✰ — lee seokmin x readeer
✷ — summary: a study in the worship of lee seokmin.
✰ — wc is approx. 1.3k
✷ — genre: smut, stand-alone, no plot only porn
✰ — warnings: blowjobs, cum swallowing, cumming-on-face, repeated use of the word embarrassing.
✷ — rating: 18+
✰ — note: spur of the moment fic written in an hour lmao! the result of seokmin's new photoshoot!!! everyone can thank @onlymingyus for alerting me to the existence of these photos lol.
you drop to your knees like it's the easiest fucking thing in the world to do.
seokmin gets embarrassed at how you look up at him in awe. then his dick hardens further in his boxers, and he can feel wetness leak from the tip and he gets embarrassed further.
he feels ridiculous.
the robe they've put him into is faux fur, soft to the touch and in a deep brown. his pants are white and unbuttoned, pulled down low enough to expose the grey band of his boxers with red lettering.
he's half naked. he's dressed up as someone who is distinctly not him.
because seokmin truly doesn't feel like himself. if seokmin were to pick an outfit, it'd be a polo and jeans or some oversized sweater that reached down to the palms of his hands.
yeah: this feels like some sort of seokmin that is distinctly not him, but then --
but then you put your hands on his thighs and his mind goes blank.
even through the white fabric of his pants seokmin feels electrified by your touch. the weight of your hands is usually comforting, but now seokmin feels as if it's all he can pay attention to and he just wants more of it.
"what're you doing?"
you hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants. you peel them down. it's slow going, and you have to move your hands beneath the brown robe to pull the waistband down over the curve of his ass.
the white pants fall around his ankles, the fabric bunching around his bare feet, and then you're pressing your face into his cock.
well, not into it. but your nose presses into the fabric, sliding along the curve of his dick through the grey boxers.
"fuck --" he groans out your name, long fingers tangling into your hair. seokmin tightens his grip on your hair. he wants to pull your face back. he wants you to stop doing something so mortifying.
because it is mortifying and embarrassing, but then you let out a hot exhale and seokmin pushes your face further against him.
"lemme," you murmur. you press your tongue against the bulge, and seokmin does a full-body shiver as you run your tongue up his dick. it's far different than when you do it without fabric separating his dick from your tongue, but his toes still curl.
it's the drag of it, leisurely and torturous; the warm and wet.
you mouth against his dick, and seokmin can't help but tip his head back in a moan.
"seokminie," you say. he glances down at you. you reward his attention by mouthing at the tip of his dick, and seokmin feels utterly humiliated by how his dick lets out a little spurt of cum, further wetting the boxers.
your hand goes up and cups his balls, thumb gently swiping over the fabric. seokmin groans and shivers.
"please," he says.
your hands go to the waistband of his boxers. you pull them down, though you're far slower with it than you were with his pants. you sit back on your knees, watching as the fabric clings to his thick golden thighs.
he whines out your name, and you laugh.
"don't worry, pretty boy," you coo. you pull down his boxers enough to where his dick springs free. it's fucking embarrassing how his dick, nearly on the far side of too-long, though his thickness is just-right, springs out and slaps against his abdomen.
his dick is an angry, dusky color. the veins are thick and particularly delicious, and the first thing you do once his dick is free is tip forward and press your lips to a vein.
mouth slick and plenty wet, you slide your tongue from the base of the vein to the tip. it's so slow and seokmin feels like he's on the verge of claiming it's torture.
you pay special attention to his dick veins, tongue treating each weaving line like royalty. you alternate the duration of the licks. some are lingering and worshipful; others, quick and eager. regardless of the duration, each is wet and delightful.
seokmin's balls feel so tight and heavy. he wants you to hurry up, wants you to take his dick down your throat, but.
your hands go to grip at his thighs. you can't wrap your hands around them, not even close. the tips of your fingers press into his flesh as you mouth at the base of his dick.
your hands slowly slide up. they slide up over his thighs, which were still slightly oiled from an earlier shoot session. your hands go to the jut of his hips, and then to his abdomen. you pet his stomach, palms sliding along the ridges of his abdomen.
then you grab his dick and seokmin fights against every bit of his being in an attempt not to cum.
you move up on your knees, guiding the dark tip into your mouth.
and if he thought he was going to cum before, then --
you take the head into your warm mouth. slowly, as you seem reluctant to do anything quickly this evening, you begin to press his dick further into the tormentful warmth of your mouth.
seokmin's dick is too big to fit into your mouth entirely. but you go until the tip is against the back of your tongue, and seokmin is torn between praising you and whimpering.
you worship his dick unhurriedly, drawing back gently. the slide of your tongue against his cock has his fingers curling in your hair, thighs tensing. you hold his hips in your hands as you languidly fuck his dick in and out of your mouth, nails leaving little indents in his flesh.
you pull off of his dick. you hold his dick with one hand, licking at the tip sweetly.
"baby," he whimpers.
you laugh at him, eyes crinkling. "can't believe you're dressed like this and here you are, whimpering like a dog for me."
seokmin pouts. you guide his head back into your mouth. you open your mouth wide, and then you're swallowing down around it once more.
your mouth is wet. your hands slide to his back, to his ass, and then you're pressing his hips forward. you push his hips towards you, forcing his dick further into your mouth, forcing it to press further and further.
once satisfied, you peer up at seokmin.
he groans.
seokmin begins fucking into your mouth. he watches with rapt attention. your spit makes his cock glisten with wetness, and when he pulls back far enough to where the tip is millimeters from your lips, there's a cute string connecting his dick to your mouth.
seokmin can't help but moan and fuck his dick back in.
you're so perfect.
he feels horribly hot in his robe despite it being the only thing he's wearing. the faux fur hangs down around him, and when he brings your face to his groin, fucking his cock back into the heat of your mouth, you're framed by the brown fur.
it's all so lavish and ridiculous. you on your knees, unashamedly for him. his expensive pants and boxers pooling around his feet, the even-more expensive robe bouncing with every thrust into your mouth.
seokmin sets a steady rhythm. he trusts into your mouth, swift and precise. he loves this. he loves the slick, wet noises of your mouth around his cock. he adores the little moans and whimpers you let out, the tears catching at your lashes.
your hands shift against him. you keep one hand on his hip, the other going down to his balls. you fondle them, smoothing your hand over them sweetly.
his balls tighten to the point of pain; his dick throbs.
seokmin cums down your throat. you can't take all of it. you have to pull off, gasping for air, and his thick white spunk stains your lips and face.
he can't help but feel a little ashamed. his cum marring your face, the way your lips are raw from your worship of him. how you grip the faux fur robe in both hands, face tilted up towards him, eyes shining.
it's all so embarrassing.
but then you're pulling off your own shirt and seokmin can't find it within himself to care too much.
Summary: After discovering that the old brewing machine he had just purchased allowed him to travel back in time, he tried to fix his relationship with you.
Seokmin had already visited the past three times this week. If he told his best friends, Mingyu and Myungho, they wouldn’t believe him. As always, they would tell him to stop being delusional. But hey, being delusional had led him to run a successful café in a prime location in Hongdae!
This time, Seokmin found himself back on the same day—the day he decided to quit his managerial job. That familiar knot of anxiety settled in his stomach as he stepped into the office. But something was different. Something stronger. He wasn’t the same nervous wreck he had been years ago. No. He was ready for this.
He handed in his resignation letter the same way he had back then—hand outstretched, a nervous smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His boss took it, eyes scanning the paper. And then the magic moment arrived.
Seokmin cleared his throat. "You gave me plenty of chances to grow, and I’m grateful for that," he said, voice smooth, not a quiver in sight. Who was this confident guy? Oh right, it was him. "But you're wrong. You are wrong to say I won’t succeed without this company."
Those words—he had swallowed them down so many times, had watched them burn in his throat, unsaid. But now? Now they slid out like butter. The tension he didn’t even know he was carrying was gone, evaporating into thin air, leaving only the crisp taste of freedom.
His boss blinked, clearly startled. Good.
The silence between them stretched on, but Seokmin didn’t even flinch. He was done. He had finally spoken up.
And then, just like that, the weight he didn’t know he’d been carrying started to lift. He walked out of the building with his box, each step feeling lighter than the last. The door closed behind him with a soft whoosh, as though it were sealing away everything he no longer needed.
Outside, the air tasted different—fresher, like the world was offering him a second chance. He walked toward his car, a grin tugging at his lips. He wasn’t leaving something behind; he was heading somewhere, toward something.
He sat in the driver’s seat and gripped the steering wheel. The world seemed to pause around him. The weight of his past—all of it—felt distant now. Almost like someone else’s.
For the first time in forever, Seokmin wasn’t weighed down by the fear of what was to come. He wasn’t haunted by the what-ifs. No, now all he could feel was that little spark of satisfaction deep in his chest. He had finally done it. He had stepped away from a life that had never felt quite right.
His chest felt lighter. His head felt clearer. And hey, wasn’t that the definition of freedom?
Seokmin let out a long breath, not realizing how much he had been holding in. "Finally," he murmured, glancing at his reflection in the rearview mirror.
For the first time in ages, he wasn’t looking back. He wasn’t looking at anything. He was just moving forward.
And that felt, well... pretty darn good.
"Now, I should go back to the present," he murmured to himself.
But—
Oh?
"Why am I still here?" he muttered in confusion.
Usually, he could return to the present whenever he wanted. But now? Something was stopping him. His fingers tightened around the wheel. Was it because he was in the car?
He quickly stepped out and stood under the warm afternoon sun.
Still here.
A wave of panic surged through him. What if he couldn’t return this time? He had worked so hard to build and manage his café for the past seven years. He couldn’t just be stuck in the past.
"Seokmin?"
The familiar voice made his heart skip a beat. He turned quickly, and there you were—walking with a group of colleagues before they left you to approach him.
"Are you leaving for somewhere?" you asked, tilting your head slightly.
Seokmin’s heart pounded in his chest at the sight of you. It had been so long since he last saw you with short hair. He had almost forgotten that you worked in the same building as him. He never expected to run into you while revisiting this moment in time.
"Y/n.. Hi…" he greeted, but his voice came out awkward.
You let out a soft chuckle. "Why are you acting so weird?"
Seokmin bit his lower lip. He just couldn’t tell you that in the future, you would date him, love him, and then break his heart after five years.
Shaking his head, he let out a small, nervous laugh. "It's just…" He hesitated, holding his breath. Could he say it? After a moment of deep thought, he exhaled and finally admitted, "I kinda miss you, I guess."
Your eyes widened slightly. "Sorry? You miss me?" you echoed, confused. "We literally saw each other this morning in the elevator."
You laughed, thinking he was joking. But Seokmin wasn’t. He might joke about a lot of things, but when it came to you? Never. You just didn’t know.
"Hey…" You stepped closer, your brows knitting together in concern. "Are you okay? You look a little red, Seokmin."
His breath hitched at your sudden closeness. Before he could react—
Darkness.
And then—
The familiar scent of coffee beans and the soft hum of a jazz tune playing in the background.
Seokmin found himself back in his dimly lit café, sitting at his usual spot. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to process what had just happened.
He was back.
But for the first time since discovering his ability to travel through time, a strange, lingering feeling settled in his heart.
Seokmin took a deep breath before sighing heavily. Seeing you again—even if it was in the past—was harder than he had expected. He didn’t think his heart would race so much from reliving an old conversation.
He remembered that day vividly. The day he resigned. The day he first told you he was leaving the company. And, unknowingly, the day that sparked everything between you two. It had started as a simple chat, just two coworkers talking. But that conversation had brought you closer.
A series of rapid knocks pulled him back to reality. He blinked, turning toward the glass door, where Mingyu stood with a deep frown on his face.
"I was knocking like crazy while you just sat there daydreaming. Long day, man?" Mingyu asked, stepping inside as Seokmin unlocked the door for him.
Mingyu walked over to the table where Seokmin was sitting and set down a couple of plastic bags, the weight of them making a soft thud against the wood.
"Myungho's on his way with food," Mingyu added, already pulling out his phone and scrolling through it like the conversation was over.
Seokmin reached for the drinks Mingyu had brought. They were heavy, and judging by the labels, definitely on the expensive side. He raised an eyebrow.
"Are you planning to get wasted in my café tonight? In case you forgot, I have to open at seven in the morning," Seokmin said, eyeing his friend with mild exasperation.
Mingyu sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair. "Relax, man. We'll take it slow. We won’t get wasted—you know me." He threw Seokmin a playful wink before turning his attention back to his phone.
As the three of them gathered, Mingyu immediately took charge, arranging the food and drinks with an excitement that had no real reason behind it. He always got overly invested in things like this. Meanwhile, Myungho—the calmest of the three—watched in silence as his two friends bickered over something as trivial as street food plating.
"Put the tteokbokki in a bowl, obviously," Seokmin argued, gesturing toward the steaming dish.
Mingyu scoffed. "No way, a plate makes it easier to pick up!"
"And the tangsuyuk sauce?" Myungho finally chimed in, sipping his drink. "Poured or dipped?"
Seokmin and Mingyu both turned to him at the same time.
"Dipped."
"Poured."
They glared at each other, neither willing to back down.
Classic.
But just as Seokmin prepared to defend his stance, Myungho’s voice cut through the playful atmosphere.
"Did you get the invitation?" he asked suddenly.
Seokmin turned to him, momentarily distracted. "What invitation?"
Mingyu let out a sigh, shaking his head as he watched Seokmin successfully pour all the sauce over the tangsuyuk. Defeated, he dropped his chopsticks and leaned back in his chair.
The three of them sat in a small circle, their laughter fading as the conversation shifted.
"So you really didn’t get it," Mingyu mumbled, nodding to himself.
Myungho pulled out his phone and turned the screen toward Seokmin, showing him a digital invitation.
You're getting married.
The words glowed against the screen, and as Seokmin scrolled through the details, the color drained from his face.
Mingyu and Myungho exchanged a quick glance, guilt settling over them. This gathering hadn’t just been a casual hangout. It had been arranged for one reason—to soften the blow, to distract Seokmin from the inevitable heartbreak.
Seokmin’s hands tightened around the phone before he slowly slid it back across the table. He looked at his friends, a chuckle escaping his lips, but there was no humor in it. Only disbelief.
"Woah…" His voice was quiet, but the betrayal in his eyes was evident. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Is it him? That guy?"
They knew exactly who he was talking about—the so-called "best friend" who had played a part in your breakup.
Mingyu shook his head. "Not that one."
Seokmin let out a bitter laugh, his grip on his drink tightening. "So it's another guy, huh? She's quick, though." His words were muttered, almost as if he was speaking more to himself than them.
A heavy silence fell over the table.
Myungho sighed before raising his glass. "Let’s not talk about other men," he said, his tone firm as he held his drink out for a toast.
Mingyu followed, clinking his glass against Myungho’s. They both waited for Seokmin.
For a long moment, Seokmin didn’t move. His heart pounded against his ribs, beating twice as fast, as if it was ready to burst.
Then, finally, he exhaled, forcing a small smirk onto his lips as he lifted his glass.
"Yeah," he murmured. "Screw that."
And with that, their drinks clinked together—a silent agreement that, for tonight, they would drink away the pain.
"I’M SERIOUS!!!"
"That machine has taken me back to the past four times already!" Seokmin slurred, his words tumbling over each other as he waved his hand toward the vintage brewing machine sitting proudly on the counter.
Mingyu let out a loud laugh, his own face slightly flushed from the alcohol. He might have been drunk, but not that drunk—not to the point where he’d start believing Seokmin’s wild claims. "Where the hell did you even get that?" he asked, barely able to stifle his laughter.
"From an old man across the road," Seokmin explained, his words slightly incoherent. "I was just trying to help him, but he insisted I buy it—for very cheap, I swear."
Myungho chuckled, clearly amused by the drunken storytelling. "Alright," he humored him, leaning back in his chair. "So where exactly did you travel to?"
Seokmin perked up, turning to Myungho with an appreciative look. At least one of his friends was paying attention.
"First," he began, raising a finger. "Remember our road trip to Busan after we graduated?"
Myungho nodded, recalling the memory.
"That was one. Then I visited the day I broke my mother’s vase when I was six." He sighed dramatically. "Got scolded all over again, by the way."
Mingyu scoffed, swirling the drink in his glass. "Wow, what a life-changing experience."
Seokmin ignored him. "And then, I went back to the time my sisters ganged up on me to tease me mercilessly." He shuddered at the memory, throwing a side glance at Mingyu, who was looking at him with pure judgment.
"And the last one," Seokmin continued, his voice growing softer, "was the day I resigned. Seven years ago."
Mingyu chuckled once Seokmin finished his tale. "I told you to stop daydreaming. You drank too much, now your brain’s broken." With that, he took another shot, shaking his head.
Seokmin was ready to throw a punch at Mingyu, but Myungho, ever the peacekeeper, reached out and held him back.
"Did you change anything?" Myungho asked instead.
Seokmin froze at the question, caught off guard. "I don’t know... I didn’t visit to change anything. So…"
"But is there something you want to change?" Myungho pressed, his voice quieter, more thoughtful. "I mean, isn't that the natural instinct? If you could go back, wouldn't you want to fix something?"
Seokmin fell silent.
Mingyu, ever the skeptic, mouthed to Myungho, You actually believe him?
Myungho simply giggled and shook his head. Mingyu covered his mouth, trying to suppress his laughter as Seokmin sat there, lost in deep thought.
Was there something he wanted to change? A regret so strong that he’d risk altering the past?
Then, after a long pause, Seokmin exhaled.
"There’s one thing," he admitted, his voice quieter now.
Both Mingyu and Myungho looked at him, their amusement fading slightly.
"There’s something I want to fix," Seokmin said, looking up at his friends with newfound determination.
And for the first time that night, neither of them laughed.
*
Seokmin was pacing around, his footsteps echoing in the quiet of his cafe. Today was one week before your wedding day. He could still see the date written on the elegant invitation in his mind. He sighed, a weight in his chest that he thought had long since lifted. But deep down, he knew he hadn’t moved on—not really. His heart still ached for you, even though you had broken it more times than he could count.
The cafe had just closed, a long day finally over. He had worked the after-lunch shift too, his staff shorthanded. After bidding them goodbye as they went home, Seokmin lingered by the counter, cleaning up the remnants of the day. His eyes, however, were drawn to the brewing machine sitting in the corner.
It had been a week since he last used it. The discovery that it could send him to the past had shaken him. After that morning, he’d told his staff to leave the machine alone, insisting it was just a decoration—something for the aesthetic. He couldn’t risk anyone else getting sucked into its mystery, let alone the confusion of being sent back to the past.
But tonight, it called to him.
With a resigned sigh, Seokmin walked over to the machine and began making his coffee. He didn’t know why—he wasn’t in the mood for it, not really. But it felt... right. He prepared the coffee the same way he always had, the routine grounding him. Once he was finished, he sat at a table, wrapping his hands around the warm mug.
Taking a deep breath, he let his mind wander, the way it often did when he needed an escape. Seokmin was always a dreamer, his thoughts effortlessly drifting toward places and moments he longed to revisit. His eyes fluttered closed as he imagined the soft, familiar surroundings of his old apartment. He could feel the weight lifting off his body as he let the image grow sharper, clearer.
Slowly, almost absentmindedly, he raised the mug to his lips and took a sip of the warm coffee. But when he opened his eyes, the world had shifted. The cafe was gone, and in its place was the worn wooden dining table of his old apartment. The warm glow of the lamplight bathed the room in a cozy, nostalgic hue. In his hands, the red mug had changed too, filled not with coffee but with hot chocolate—the one he always made for himself after a particularly long week at the cafe.
He remembered this moment, so clearly. It had been a quiet evening after an exhausting week, his body sore from hours spent on his feet. He had come home that night, craving comfort, craving something familiar. And here it was, as if the past had pulled him back in.
For a moment, Seokmin let himself just be there, soaking in the memory. But deep down, the question gnawed at him. Could he change anything if he stayed? Could he find a way to stop this—to stop you from marrying someone else?
"You're home."
He could hear your voice, and though he expected it, the familiar ache in his chest didn’t lessen. He had been here before, so he knew what was coming next.
A fight.
Arguments.
Yells.
Tears.
He remembered it all too well—the tension that always seemed to hang between them.
"You remember home today?" Your voice was laced with sarcasm as you leaned against the fridge, eyes locking with his.
In the past, he would’ve said, "Don't start it."
But now, when he thought about it, he realized it was always him who started it. All of your frustration, your anger—it had been triggered by his absence. He hadn’t been home for three days, choosing to stay at the cafe to pour himself into work for the five-year anniversary. His team was counting on him, but he had let that responsibility push you to the side.
"I'm sorry," Seokmin mumbled, his voice low, but sincere.
Your frown softened a little, though there was still a flicker of something in your eyes—a question, a need for something more than just the apology he had offered. You didn’t seem to fully believe it yet.
"Why are you home, then?" you asked, arms still crossed tightly over your chest, a guarded expression remaining on your face.
Seokmin paused, his old reflex kicking in. The Seokmin from before would have answered defensively, “Can’t I? It’s my house too. I pay the rent.”
But now, a more mature version of him stared back at you, a version that had grown, that had learned, that understood the weight of words and actions.
He gulped, swallowing the bitterness that tried to crawl up his throat, before answering, "Because... because I miss you." The words slipped out, almost painfully, and he could feel the lump in his throat. He fought the tears threatening to fall, but he could feel them—hot, sharp—and you seemed to notice.
Seokmin set the mug down on the table, his hands trembling slightly. He wiped his face quickly, trying to regain his composure, but it was no use. He had already cracked.
And before he knew it, you were there, pulling him into an embrace.
The warmth of your touch, your familiar scent—it hit him like a wave. He hadn’t expected to break down so quickly, but here he was, clinging to you as if he could somehow undo all the hurt he had caused, all the time lost between the two of you. He hadn’t come here for this, but it was happening anyway—this rush of emotions, this sudden rush of longing.
You pulled back just enough to brush a hand through his hair, your fingers gentle and soothing, sending a ripple of calm through him.
"You must have had a hard time preparing for the event," you murmured, your voice soft, understanding. Your touch was comforting, like a balm to the rawness he was feeling.
Seokmin pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with a desperate intensity. "I'm so sorry... Forgive me, please."
You looked at him with concern, cupping his cheeks with a tenderness that made his heart ache. "Hey, you don’t need to apologize this much. You know I'll forgive you..."
And then, you kissed him. Just a soft, fleeting kiss on his lips. The butterflies that erupted in his stomach were almost overwhelming. After a year without your touch, your kiss felt like a sweet, familiar melody, bringing him back to life in an instant.
"You know I’ll always forgive you," you whispered, and in that moment, Seokmin’s heart clenched painfully. He had forgotten what it felt like to hear those words from you. Had you always been this forgiving? He couldn’t remember, but right now, it felt like everything.
“Don’t cry, baby... I’m sorry too…”
Your words hit him like a wave. You were apologizing? He almost couldn’t believe it. You had always been the tough one, the one who hid your emotions beneath a hard exterior. You never apologized for the fights, not unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, it was rare. But now, here you were, admitting you were sorry too. It was a side of you he hadn’t seen in so long.
"I'm sorry that I acted like that earlier," you added, your voice thick with emotion. "I was just... worried."
And just like that, the warmth of the moment began to slip away. Seokmin felt the coldness creep back into his bones, like a shadow settling over him. The sound of the jazz music he always played in the cafe swirled around him, pulling him back to reality.
He was back in the present.
This wasn’t the past.
And yet, somehow, this feeling—this hope—remained, flickering in his chest.
*
Seokmin was surprised when he saw your best friend walk into his cafe. He watched as your best friend placed his order while Seokmin was busy fulfilling other customers’ requests at the dessert counter. After a brief moment, your best friend found a table, sitting down with his phone in hand, seemingly lost in thought. Seokmin could feel a slight tension in the air, but he brushed it off as he prepared the order: an Americano and a slice of carrot cake.
He walked over to deliver the order, trying to maintain his usual calm demeanor. "Seungkwan, right?"
Seungkwan looked up in surprise, his gaze shifting around as he realized where he was. His eyes widened slightly at the realization that he was in Seokmin’s cafe—the cafe owned by his best friend’s ex.
"Oh, Seokmin. How are you?" Seungkwan asked, the air between them suddenly feeling awkward. Seokmin made an effort to ease the tension.
"I'm good. How about you? Still working in fashion editorial?" Seokmin asked, trying to be warmer to someone who, in the past, had felt like a potential threat to his relationship with you.
Seungkwan blinked, clearly taken aback by the question. "Actually, I haven’t worked in fashion for almost three years now. I’m in TV show production now," he said with a slight shrug.
Seokmin, embarrassed by not knowing, quickly took the business card Seungkwan offered. It had been a while since they had spoken, and Seokmin only remembered Seungkwan’s involvement with the fashion industry. He felt a little sheepish, but Seungkwan waved it off.
"It’s okay, no reason for you to know that. Anyway, your cafe is doing great," Seungkwan added, his eyes scanning the bustling space, clearly impressed.
The two of them sat at a table together, a rare moment where Seokmin found himself truly getting to know Seungkwan. He had always been your best friend since college, but the few interactions they had shared had never gone beyond awkward pleasantries. Seokmin now realized that he barely knew the person who had been by your side for so long.
In fact, he remembered the last time Seungkwan had been in his life. The memory stung, but he pushed it down as they continued their conversation, both men navigating the strange space between them.
“You ungrateful bastard.” Seungkwan’s words were sharp the last time they had ever saw each other.
Seokmin's eyes widened as he stepped into his apartment after a week of staying in the cafe. He had barely any clothes left there and needed to change. His mind was still trying to forget the argument that had taken place the last time he was home. It was like any other argument—filled with tension, unspoken words, and frustration.
There had been countless times Seungkwan was mentioned during arguments. Seokmin didn’t know him well—just that he was a friend of yours from university. Despite meeting him a few times, there had always been a lingering, uncomfortable atmosphere between Seokmin and Seungkwan, one that others could feel but no one would openly acknowledge.
But when he stepped into the bedroom, everything seemed to freeze. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and then stared again, certain that what he saw couldn’t be real. There, in his bed, was Seungkwan, your best friend, lying on his side of the bed.
It didn’t take long for the familiar anger to rise in Seokmin’s chest. His thoughts raced back to every argument, every moment Seungkwan had been mentioned, and the air of discomfort between him and Seungkwan.
He tried to shake it off, but the image of Seungkwan in his bed was burning into his brain, and the frustration, the years of pent-up tension, exploded.
“What is this?” His voice was thick with disbelief, his hands gripping the doorframe.
Your gaze flicked nervously from Seokmin to Seungkwan, and before Seokmin could react, you were moving towards him, pulling him out of the bedroom. “It’s not what it looks like,” you said quickly, but your voice trembled with uncertainty.
Seokmin’s eyes were wide, his heart pounding. “What do you mean ‘it’s not what it looks like’? Why is he in my bed?” His words were clipped, his frustration quickly building. He couldn’t wrap his head around what was happening.
You kept your voice low, trying to stay calm. “Seokmin, listen to me. It's a misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding?” Seokmin’s voice rose, unable to contain the anger. “What part of my bed being taken by him is a misunderstanding?”
You sighed deeply, stepping back slightly to avoid his fiery gaze. “He’s my best friend, Seokmin. He needed somewhere to sleep. We weren’t—” You cut yourself off, realizing how it sounded.
Seokmin’s face darkened. He laughed bitterly, the sound bitter on his tongue. “You think I’m stupid? You want me to believe you’re ‘just sleeping’?” He stepped closer to you, his voice shaking with emotion. “Are you cheating on me with him? Is that it? This whole time, while I’ve been working my ass off, you’ve been with him?”
You took a step back, stunned by his words. “No! I’m not cheating on you!” you pleaded, the frustration in your own voice rising. “Seungkwan’s my friend, my best friend. Why does it always have to be this way?”
Seokmin was pacing now, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to hold it together. His emotions were getting the best of him. “Because I saw it with my own eyes, Y/n. I saw him in my bed, sleeping next to you—” He swallowed hard, trying to get the words out. “What if I had walked in and seen something else? What if I had found you in the middle of... whatever it is you’ve been doing?”
Your eyes widened, and you shook your head frantically. “Seokmin, that’s not what’s happening!” You reached for him, trying to calm him, but he stepped back, avoiding your touch.
Seokmin let out a strained laugh, one filled with pain and betrayal. “Just sleeping? That’s your excuse? What do you expect me to believe? You’ve been so cold lately. So distant. And now this? I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“I’ve been distant?” you shot back, the words sharp. “You’ve been gone for days, Seokmin. Days! And now you come back here accusing me of—of what? Cheating?”
Seokmin’s fists clenched at his sides. He was shaking, his breath coming faster now. “Don’t act like this is my fault. You can’t even look at me the same anymore. Every time I try to come home, it feels like I’m stepping into a house full of secrets and lies. I don’t know who you are anymore.”
“I’m not the one who’s changed, Seokmin!” Your voice cracked, the weight of your words taking their toll. “You’ve pulled away. You’ve been gone, busy with the cafe. You didn’t even have time for me, for us. And now, you show up and this is what you do—accuse me of things that aren’t true!”
The argument grew louder, more intense. Words flew like daggers, each of you trying to hurt the other before the pain could sink too deep. Seokmin was on the verge of breaking down, but his anger was keeping him from seeing clearly. You were both caught in a whirlpool of hurt, accusations, and unsaid words.
Then, as if on cue, Seungkwan appeared in the doorway. His eyes were bleary from sleep, his head clearly pounding from the night before. He stepped out into the living room, rubbing his face and looking between the two of you.
“What’s going on?” Seungkwan’s voice was groggy, his confusion evident. He hadn’t expected to find a warzone when he came out of the room.
Seokmin whirled on him, his anger still burning hot. He grabbed Seungkwan’s shirt with both hands, his voice low and threatening. “What the hell are you doing in my bed with my girlfriend?”
Seungkwan blinked, still half asleep. “Relax, man... We were just sleeping.”
The words barely registered before Seokmin’s fist flew through the air, landing a punch on Seungkwan’s jaw. Seungkwan stumbled back, the shock of the hit taking him by surprise.
“Seokmin, stop!” You screamed, rushing forward, but in his anger, Seokmin pushed you aside, not realizing what he was doing.
You gasped as you hit the floor, but before Seokmin could even react, Seungkwan lunged, his fist connecting with Seokmin’s face. The force sent Seokmin stumbling backwards, his lip splitting from the impact.
“Get the hell out of here, you bastard!” Seungkwan shouted, his chest heaving with adrenaline as he shoved Seokmin toward the door.
Seokmin, dazed and bleeding, stood frozen for a moment. His heart pounded in his ears, the adrenaline still surging through his body. But as Seungkwan pushed him out, his own words haunted him.
“You ungrateful bastard.” Seungkwan’s words were sharp, final, as he slammed the door in Seokmin’s face, leaving him outside in the cold, heartbroken, and alone.
*
Seokmin took a sip of his coffee, the warmth spreading through his body, but as he opened his eyes, something felt... off. The familiar scent of freshly brewed espresso and sugar filled his senses, yet the details around him seemed different.
He wasn’t in his apartment, where he had specifically visualized it. Instead, he was in his café—a year ago.
The table in front of him was the same, scuffed in places where he had absentmindedly tapped his fingers while brainstorming new recipes. The dessert counter was still small, a far cry from what it had become over time. The soft hum of the café's old refrigerator buzzed in the background, a sound he had long since tuned out.
Seokmin’s brows furrowed. Why am I here?
Just then, his phone vibrated. A message.
Y/n: Can you come home? I have a really bad stomachache.
Seokmin stared at the screen, a strange sensation creeping up his spine. He knew this message. He had received it before—exactly one year ago.
Now he remembered.
That night, you had asked him to come home, but he hadn’t. He had stayed at the café, drowning himself in dessert recipes, convincing himself that work was more important. He had ignored your message, promising himself he’d check on you in the morning.
But the morning had come, and by then, something had already started to break between you.
Seokmin clenched his jaw, his grip tightening around his phone.
This was the moment. The turning point.
If he went home tonight, would it change anything between you?
He exhaled, forcing himself to think. Why had he chosen to stay at the café back then? What had been so important that he ignored you?
He had spent months after your breakup searching for answers—wondering why you had grown distant after five years together, why your warmth had slowly faded, why you had let someone else—Seungkwan—fill the space he had left empty.
Was that why you pulled away? Because you had already found someone else?
Seokmin shook his head. He had spent so much time blaming you, convincing himself that you had betrayed him. But deep down, he knew the truth—he had left you alone long before you ever looked elsewhere for comfort.
He stood abruptly, pushing his chair back.
He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
He wasn’t going to give another man the chance to take his place.
Wasn’t that why he had returned to the past in the first place? Because he didn’t want to lose you? Because he couldn’t bear to see you with someone else?
Without hesitation, Seokmin grabbed his keys and sprinted out of the café, the cold night air biting against his skin as he rushed toward your apartment.
"Y/n..." he called softly as he stepped inside, his heart hammering in his chest.
His breath caught when he saw you curled up on the couch, clutching your stomach. Your face was pale, and beads of cold sweat clung to your temple.
Seokmin crossed the room in long strides, kneeling in front of you.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was tight with worry as he reached out, scanning your expression. His fingers brushed against your forehead—it was damp, too cold.
You barely lifted your gaze to meet his. “I don’t know… It hurts so much…” Your voice was weak, barely a whisper.
Panic surged through him. He had no idea the pain had been this bad. Had you been suffering like this all night, alone?
Without another thought, Seokmin scooped you into his arms, holding you close.
“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he said firmly, his mind made up.
This time, he wouldn’t leave you waiting.
Seokmin sat in the cold, sterile hospital hallway, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together so tightly his knuckles turned white. The scent of antiseptic burned his nose, the bright fluorescent lights overhead only worsening the pounding in his skull.
The image of you, unconscious on the hospital bed, your skin sickly pale, was burned into his mind. He hadn't realized it was this serious. Hadn't known you had been suffering like this while he was too caught up in his own world, his own ambitions.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Please, just let her be okay.
The sound of footsteps made him lift his head, and he shot up when he saw the doctor approaching.
"How is she?" Seokmin asked immediately, his voice rough, desperate.
The doctor sighed, pulling down his mask before speaking. "She's stable now, but..."
Seokmin's heart pounded harder. The pause stretched too long. "But what?"
The doctor gave him a solemn look. "She was pregnant."
Seokmin felt the words hit him like a truck, his breath catching in his throat. Pregnant?
His vision blurred for a second, his mind racing back through time—had you known? Had you tried to tell him?
"But due to excessive stress and prolonged neglect of her symptoms," the doctor continued, "she suffered a miscarriage."
The word rang in his ears, shattering something deep inside him.
A miscarriage.
His legs felt weak, his hands trembled. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
There had been a baby. His baby. A life that had barely begun but was already gone.
Seokmin stumbled back onto the chair, his body cold, his mind reeling. He gripped his hair, exhaling shakily.
He had been so blind. So selfish.
All those times you had asked him to come home. All those moments when you had reached out, needing him. And he had ignored you, stayed at the café, convinced himself that his time, his dreams, his work mattered more.
And now, there was no going back.
His baby was gone.
And you—how were you supposed to handle this? How much pain had you endured alone while he had been too distracted, too distant to see it?
"Hey, do you know I'm never into women? I always have a boyfriend." Seungkwan’s words echoed in his mind, each syllable hitting him like a hammer to the chest.
Seokmin sat there, unmoving, the weight of those words settling deep in his bones. His breath hitched as the realization sank in—how wrong he had been.
All the accusations. The doubts. The fights.
All the times he had glared at Seungkwan, convinced that he was the reason for your distance, the reason you weren’t looking at him the way you used to. He had let his insecurities twist everything, had let jealousy consume him until all he saw was betrayal where there was none.
And while he had been drowning in his own delusions, you had been suffering in silence.
He pressed a hand over his face, his fingers trembling.
"I'm not cheating on you."
Your voice from that night played in his head, softer now, weaker. He could still see the way your face had crumpled at his accusations, the way you had begged him to believe you.
But he hadn’t.
He had let his pride win. He had let his anger control him.
And now, here he was—watching you lie in a hospital bed, pale and weak, after losing the baby he never even knew existed.
Guilt clawed at his throat, suffocating him.
"I should have been there."
But he wasn’t.
And now, it was too late.
*
Mingyu watched as Myungho sprinted down the hospital corridor, his breathing ragged, his face a mix of panic and frustration. Neither of them had expected to receive a message from one of Seokmin's staff, informing them that their friend had been found passed out in his café that morning—with ten empty espresso cups scattered around him.
Myungho raked a trembling hand through his hair, his voice sharp with disbelief. "Is it because of her wedding? Is that why he did something this stupid?" He turned to Mingyu, eyes desperate for an answer, but Mingyu looked just as lost, just as shaken.
Seokmin, their bright, ever-smiling friend, had nearly died of a heart attack.
Mingyu let out a heavy breath, rubbing his hands over his face as he sank onto one of the waiting chairs. His fingers fidgeted, betraying the unease thrumming through his body. "The wedding is tomorrow," he muttered, voice hollow.
Myungho stiffened at the words. He knew it. They both did. But hearing it out loud made it feel more real, made Seokmin’s pain more tangible.
Mingyu swallowed hard, his throat tight. "Doctor said if they hadn’t found him sooner, it could've been fatal."
Myungho clenched his fists. "That idiot," he cursed under his breath, his voice cracking. His eyes burned with unshed tears, the weight of almost losing Seokmin settling heavily on his chest.
Seokmin's eyelids fluttered open, the sterile white ceiling of the hospital room coming into focus. His body felt heavy, his head pounding as if a jackhammer was drilling into his skull. His mouth was dry, tasting faintly of bitter coffee and regret.
Before he could fully register his surroundings, a sharp gasp filled the room.
"Seokmin!"
Mingyu and Myungho rushed to his side, their expressions a mix of relief and frustration. Mingyu gripped his arm tightly, as if making sure he was real, while Myungho hovered nearby, his jaw clenched.
Seokmin blinked sluggishly, his throat constricting as he croaked out, "Where am I?"
Mingyu scoffed, shaking his head. "Where do you think? You're in the hospital, you dumbass." His voice wavered, trying to mask his emotions with irritation, but his grip on Seokmin’s arm gave him away. "You nearly died."
Seokmin groaned, attempting to sit up, but Myungho immediately pressed him back down with a firm hand on his chest. "Don’t even try. You drank ten cups of espresso in one go, Seokmin. Ten! Do you have a death wish?!"
Seokmin closed his eyes briefly, letting their words sink in. Then, in a hoarse whisper, he asked the only question that mattered to him.
"Did she get married?"
The room fell silent.
Mingyu and Myungho exchanged glances, their expressions darkening.
Seokmin's hands clenched the sheets, his breath growing unsteady. "Tell me," he pleaded, his voice cracking.
Myungho sighed, rubbing his temples. "Seokmin—"
"Did she or did she not get married?!" Seokmin's voice rose, desperate, raw.
Mingyu exhaled heavily, then finally muttered, "Not yet."
Seokmin's heart lurched. He wasn't too late. Not yet.
Ignoring the dizziness washing over him, he tried to push himself up again. "I need to see her."
"Are you insane?!" Myungho nearly shouted, pushing him back. "You almost died, and the first thing you want to do is chase after her?!"
Seokmin grabbed onto Myungho’s wrist, eyes wild with determination. "I have to stop it." His voice was barely above a whisper, but the conviction in it made both of his friends freeze.
Mingyu sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You don’t even know if she wants you to stop it, Seokmin."
Seokmin swallowed hard, his chest aching. He knew that. He knew he had no right to do this. But he also knew one thing for certain—
"I need to see her."
Mingyu let out a long breath, gripping his knees as he tried to process Seokmin’s words. Myungho, on the other hand, looked like he was on the verge of throwing something.
"Are you even listening to yourself?" Myungho snapped, glaring at Seokmin. "You just woke up from almost dying, and your first thought is running after her wedding? What the hell do you think is going to happen?"
Mingyu leaned forward, rubbing his temples. "Even if you do see her, then what? Do you expect her to come back to you just because you showed up? Do you think this is some kind of drama where the moment you say ‘don’t marry him,’ she’ll run into your arms?"
Seokmin’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. His mind was clouded, tangled between desperation and the overwhelming guilt crushing his chest.
"This isn’t about what you want anymore, Seokmin," Myungho continued, his voice quieter but firm. "She’s about to start a new life. Whether or not she’s happy with it, that’s not something you get to decide."
Seokmin’s breathing became uneven, his heart pounding against his ribs. "But what if she’s making a mistake?" he murmured.
"And what if she isn’t?" Mingyu shot back. "What if she’s already moved on and you’re the only one stuck in the past?"
Seokmin’s fingers curled into the hospital blanket. That thought—her moving on, being happy without him—made his stomach twist painfully.
"I need to know," he whispered, voice barely holding together.
Mingyu ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "You’re being selfish, man. You don’t need to know. You want to know. And there’s a big difference."
Myungho sighed, looking away for a moment before turning back to Seokmin. "You think this is love, but it’s guilt eating you alive. You regret everything, and you think if you see her, if you stop her, maybe it’ll fix something in you. But it won’t."
Seokmin clenched his jaw. "I just—"
"You just can’t accept that you lost her."
The words cut deeper than Seokmin expected. His vision blurred slightly, his throat tightening.
Seokmin’s breath hitched, his shoulders trembling as he gripped the blanket beneath him. His head hung low, strands of hair falling over his eyes, but it did nothing to hide the way his body shook. A choked sound escaped his lips, something between a breathless laugh and a sob, as if he himself wasn’t sure whether to scream or cry.
Mingyu and Myungho exchanged a glance, their own expressions heavy with helplessness. Neither of them had an answer—because if moving on was easy, Seokmin wouldn’t be here, collapsing under the weight of what-ifs and regrets.
"I ruined everything," Seokmin whispered, his fingers pressing into his temples. "I should’ve come home that night. I should’ve listened. I should’ve believed her." His voice cracked at the last part, and his body folded in on itself.
He sucked in a sharp breath, but it did nothing to steady him. The dam he had been holding back for so long finally burst. A sob tore from his throat, raw and painful, his hands clutching at his chest as if trying to hold himself together.
"I thought I was doing the right thing." Another sob. "I thought I was protecting us." His words were barely coherent between gasps. "But I— I pushed her away. Over and over. And then when I finally—when I finally wanted to fix things, it was too late."
He pressed his fists against his eyes, trying to stop the flood of tears, but they kept coming. "She waited for me," he rasped. "And I never came."
Myungho, usually the colder one, exhaled and sat on the edge of the hospital bed. He placed a hand on Seokmin’s back, firm but gentle. "You can’t change the past, Seokmin," he murmured. "No matter how much you regret it. You can't change anything."
Seokmin let out a bitter, broken laugh through his tears. "Then what the hell am I supposed to do?"
Mingyu kneeled beside the bed, gripping Seokmin’s wrist, grounding him. "You grieve, man," he said softly. "And then, one day, you start again."
Seokmin squeezed his eyes shut, his body wrecked with sobs. He had spent so long running—running from his emotions, from his mistakes, from the truth. And now, there was nowhere left to run.
All that was left was the ache in his chest and the cruel reality that no matter how much he cried, no matter how much he wished, he could never turn back time.
*
"No one can change things but themselves."
Seokmin let out a quiet chuckle as he read the faded tagline on the back of the vintage brewing machine. He ran a hand over its worn surface, the once-polished metal now dulled with age.
He pulled it from the counter, his fingers tightening around the handle as he lifted it. There was a strange sense of finality in the action, as if he were physically removing a part of himself from the past. He exhaled slowly. It was time to say goodbye.
It had taken him a month to come to terms with the truth. No matter how much he wished otherwise, he couldn’t change the past. Even after experiencing what felt like a second chance, he realized that some things were simply meant to happen. His mistakes, your choices—they were both pieces of a larger story that he had no control over.
He couldn’t be selfish anymore. You had your own life, your own decisions. And he had to respect that.
After being discharged from the hospital, Myungho had insisted he move in with him, at least for a while. “You need someone to keep an eye on your dumbass,” Myungho had said, dragging him into his apartment without giving him a chance to protest. Mingyu had taken over managing the café in his absence, making sure everything ran smoothly while Seokmin recovered.
Their support had been the reason he didn’t completely fall apart.
And now, standing in his café once again, he felt something he hadn’t in a long time—strength. Not just physical strength, but the kind that came from acceptance.
He was back.
And this time, he was ready to move forward.
Seokmin froze for a moment as he spotted the old man standing across the road, watching him with a knowing look. The same old man who had sold him the vintage brewing machine all those months ago—the one who seemed to have known more than he let on. Seokmin blinked, still trying to process the bizarre turn of events.
The old man raised his hand and waved, an almost mischievous grin on his weathered face. Seokmin's heart skipped a beat.
He made his way over, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet room. “You finished using it?” The old man asked, his voice gravelly, as if he'd been waiting for this moment. “Can I get it back?”
Seokmin hesitated for a second, the weight of everything that had happened still lingering in his chest. He glanced down at the machine in his hands, the one that had been his link to the past. "You know it too?" Seokmin asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "This machine... it can send anyone back in time?"
The old man’s smile widened, and he nodded knowingly. "I always knew," he said with quiet certainty. There was something in his eyes—a kind of ancient wisdom—that made Seokmin feel like he was standing before someone who had seen far more than he let on.
Without waiting for any further conversation, the old man reached out and took the machine from Seokmin’s arms. Despite his age, the man was surprisingly strong, and Seokmin couldn’t help but watch in awe as the old man effortlessly carried the machine.
For a moment, Seokmin stood there, frozen, as he watched the old man walk away, the heavy sound of his steps receding in the distance. It felt surreal—like the end of a chapter, yet Seokmin couldn't shake the feeling that it was only the beginning of something far more complex.
As Seokmin stood there, watching the old man walk away, he couldn’t shake the nagging question in his mind—the tagline he had read on the back of the brewing machine. It had been on his mind ever since he first set eyes on it, and now, with the machine being taken away, it felt like there was a final piece to the puzzle that was still missing.
"Hey," Seokmin called out, his voice catching the old man’s attention before he disappeared completely. The old man turned around, a knowing smile playing on his lips as if he had been expecting this.
“What’s the tagline about?” Seokmin asked, his voice tinged with curiosity. "The one that says, 'No one can change things but themselves.' What does that really mean?"
The old man chuckled softly, the sound a raspy yet warm laugh that seemed to carry the weight of countless untold stories. He looked at Seokmin with a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.
"It takes two for everything," the old man replied, his voice low and deliberate. "You couldn’t be the only one who wants it."
Seokmin stood in silence, the brewing machine now a distant memory in his hands, and the words of the old man echoed in his head. “It takes two for everything.” Was he truly ready to let go? To stop trying to control the outcome?
As the seconds ticked by, he realized that maybe, just maybe, the key wasn’t about turning back time, but about moving forward.
Seokmin’s phone buzzed with a new message. It was from Myungho.
Myungho: You're home already?
Seokmin frowned at the screen, his frustration rising. He quickly typed back:
Seokmin: Stop texting me like a creepy boyfriend!
Not even a minute later, his phone rang. It was Myungho calling this time. Seokmin groaned, rolling his eyes before answering.
“Why do you keep bothering me? What do you want, Myungho?” Seokmin grumbled as he headed back to the cafe, trying to shake off the exhaustion that clung to him.
“Mingyu texted me, saying he saw your cafe lights still on!” Myungho said with a teasing tone, clearly amused.
Seokmin, now annoyed, rubbed his temples. “I’m just done recycling, okay? What the heck, how does Mingyu know my lights are still on?”
There was a brief pause on the other end, and then Myungho’s voice came through, dripping with sarcasm. “CCTV?”
Seokmin froze mid-step, eyes widening in disbelief. “Ya! How dare you guys monitor me with my own CCTV?! We should’ve had a talk about this! You’re creepy, you know that?”
Myungho let out a laugh, clearly unfazed by Seokmin’s outburst. “Just get home already. I’ll text you in an hour!”
Seokmin scoffed, shaking his head in amusement as he made his way toward the cafe. “You guys are ridiculous.”
Before Seokmin could respond further, Myungho ended the call with a cheeky, “Don’t make me come over there and check on you myself!”
Seokmin chuckled in disbelief, muttering to himself. “As if I needed another reason to feel like I’m being watched…”
Seokmin woke up slowly, feeling the weight of Myungho's arm draped over his chest. His mind was still foggy as he tried to process the situation. Had Myungho come over last night? He had no memory of it, but the warm pressure on his chest was undeniable.
“Go away, Myungho,” he mumbled, trying to shift the arm off him and pull the blanket back over himself, desperate for more sleep.
But just as he was about to drift off again, a sharp slap landed on his cheek. His eyes snapped open in shock, his heart racing. He turned to see you standing by the bed, a frown plastered on your face, looking down at him with a mix of confusion and frustration.
“Myungho? You dream about your friend?” you asked, your tone biting.
Seokmin’s heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat. His mind couldn’t keep up with what was happening. Y/n? His eyes blinked rapidly, still disoriented from sleep.
He quickly turned his head toward Myungho, expecting to see his friend there, only to find the bed next to him empty. His eyes darted back to you, wide with surprise.
“Y/n?” Seokmin whispered, his voice cracking with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
You raised an eyebrow, still standing in the doorway. The shock on his face must’ve been evident because your expression softened slightly, your concern starting to show. “I should be asking you that,” you retorted, your arms crossed over your chest. “Why the heck were you thinking i'm Myungho? Were you two—”
“No!” Seokmin interrupted quickly, his face flushing red. He sat up straight, heart pounding. “No, it’s not like that. I… I thought it was Myungho… but it was you…” He trailed off, still struggling to make sense of the situation. “What are you doing here, Y/n?”
You stared at him for a moment, your gaze shifting from confusion to something softer, but still tinged with frustration. A small sigh escaped your lips before you spoke again.
“Why am I here?” you asked incredulously, a bemused look crossing your face. “What are you talking about? I'm your wife, Seokmin. This is my house!”
Seokmin’s breath hitched in his chest. His mind was reeling, unable to catch up with the rush of confusion, panic, and overwhelming guilt. He ran a hand through his hair, still stunned by the situation. His thoughts felt like they were slipping away from him, like he was in a dream, but everything was too real.
“Y/n…” Seokmin’s voice trailed off, still searching your face for some kind of explanation. “How did we— why did I—” He couldn’t find the right words. The mixture of emotions was overwhelming. Was this real? Had everything really led to this?
You shook your head slightly, your expression softening as you walked closer, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. "Seokmin, what’s going on? Why are you acting like this?"
Seokmin stared at you, the words stuck in his throat. He could feel the weight of everything crashing down on him—everything he had been running from, everything he had tried to avoid. But in that moment, with you sitting so close to him, so real, it all felt too much. Too real to escape.
Seokmin blinked, his mind racing as he looked down at his own finger. He felt the weight of a wedding band there, the same one he saw on yours. His eyes widened, his heart pounding in his chest.
"We're married?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the words couldn't quite sink in. "How?"
You rolled your eyes, clearly frustrated by his confusion. "A month ago, Seokmin! Stop being ridiculous or you’re going to be late."
Seokmin could hardly process what you said. "Late for what?" His mind was still trying to catch up, the fog from his sleep mixing with a heavy sense of disbelief.
You stood up from the bed and walked toward the door, tossing over your shoulder, "Your branch cafe opening, of course. We’ve been planning it for weeks now."
His eyes followed you as you left the room, still reeling from the whirlwind of information that felt too surreal. A month ago? He ran a hand through his hair again, trying to piece together the puzzle. He couldn’t remember any of it—the wedding, the plans, none of it. Everything felt like it was slipping through his fingers, like he had missed an entire chapter of his own life.
Seokmin hurriedly followed you, still trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened. "But I didn’t… I didn’t drink any coffee, and I’m sure I didn’t return to the past," he muttered to himself, almost as if convincing himself.
You stopped in your tracks and glanced back at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Seokmin, you’ve been acting strange all morning. Maybe you should just focus on today, alright? You’ve got a cafe to open."
"But I—" He was cut off by the sound of his own phone buzzing in his pocket. The reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. His mind had been clouded with confusion, but now it was clear—there was no going back.
"I know you're a newlywed, but please don't be late for today!" Mingyu's voice came through the phone, laced with frustration.
Seokmin froze, staring at his phone in disbelief. What was happening?
His thoughts were still spinning, trying to make sense of everything. Newlywed? A month ago? The cafe opening? The weight of it all was sinking in slowly, but it felt like his mind couldn’t keep up. His fingers tightened around the phone, and he felt a rush of panic creeping in.
"Mingyu… what’s going on?" Seokmin asked, his voice shaky as he stood in the hallway, still unsure of the reality he was facing.
On the other end, Mingyu sighed heavily. "Are you serious right now, Seokmin? You’re supposed to be here in an hour. Get it together."
Seokmin’s heart pounded in his chest as his mind raced. What did he mean, 'get it together'? Everything felt like a blur—like he had woken up in someone else’s life. The wedding ring, the cafe opening, your presence beside him—it was all too much to process.
Seokmin glanced over at you, still standing in the doorway, your arms crossed with a gentle but knowing expression on your face. You had your life figured out, but he… he was stuck in a whirlwind of confusion.
"Seokmin," Mingyu’s voice cut through his thoughts. "You need to snap out of it. You're really scaring me now."
Seokmin closed his eyes, trying to focus, but the weight of everything pressing on him was overwhelming. How could he have missed all of this? How could he have forgotten?
"Okay," Seokmin finally said, taking a deep breath and trying to steady his racing thoughts. "I’ll be there."
He hung up the phone and looked at you, the one person who seemed to know what was going on. "I—I don’t know what’s happening," he admitted, his voice softer now. "But I need to figure this out, Y/n."
You smiled slightly, the corner of your mouth lifting as you walked toward him. "One step at a time, Seokmin. Let’s get through today, and then we’ll talk."
Seokmin nodded, still in a daze, but he felt a strange sense of reassurance in your words. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as lost as he thought.
*
Seungkwan stepped into your place, drinks in hand, and immediately noticed something on the kitchen counter. "That's cool," he remarked, eyeing the vintage brewing machine with curiosity.
"I didn’t know you were into vintage stuff," he added, raising an eyebrow as he set the drinks down.
You rolled your eyes playfully, brushing him off as you arranged the coffee table in front of the couch, placing the food you had ordered earlier. "It's just for display," you said, trying to downplay it.
Seungkwan chuckled and sat down on the floor, pulling bottles out of the bag with a grin. "Is it really okay to drink here? Your boyfriend won’t be home, will he?"
You sighed, glancing at him as you adjusted the arrangement on the table. "I told you, he hasn’t been home for days. I don’t know what to do anymore," you admitted, the frustration in your voice barely concealed.
Seungkwan looked at you, concern flickering in his eyes. He set the bottle down and leaned forward, his tone softening. "Let’s forget about him for now, okay? Tonight’s about you. Let’s drink, relax, and leave all the stress behind."
His words, filled with sincerity, brought a small but genuine smile to your face. "Yeah," you said, finally letting yourself breathe a little easier. "Tonight, we forget about everything else."
"So, I went back to the past, where he came home, and I didn’t act like a crazy bitch asking where he was or what he was doing. I saw how hard he was working for our future," you said, your words slurring slightly, but there was an undeniable sincerity in your voice.
Seungkwan watched you closely, his gaze thoughtful. "Do you always know why he worked so hard on the cafe?" he asked, his tone soft but probing.
You nodded, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, it’s his romantic dream. I knew that all along, but I still acted like an asshole." Your voice faltered slightly, regret creeping in as you admitted your mistakes. "I let my insecurities get the best of me."
Seungkwan fell silent for a moment, processing your words. Then, almost as if he was speaking to himself, he muttered, "Maybe I’m just jealous... that I couldn’t make my dreams come true the way he did. He has something to fight for, something to believe in."
There was a quiet vulnerability in his voice, one that made you pause. You glanced at him, recognizing that his words weren’t just about your boyfriend. He, too, was struggling with his own battles, hidden beneath layers of laughter and bravado.
The day you found out you were pregnant, only to lose it in a heartbreaking miscarriage, felt like a cruel twist of fate. It was the morning where the two of you finally sat together, yet Seokmin was still letting you go, giving you space to breathe but also unintentionally distancing himself further. Maybe that’s how it was meant to be. Even after you returned to the past, even after you tried to fix things, it felt as if nothing would change. The bond you once had was slipping away, like sand through your fingers.
As you stood by the trash, about to dispose of the old brewing machine—the same one that had brought you back to the past—your thoughts were tangled with regret and confusion. That’s when you heard the soft shuffle of footsteps, and you looked up to find the old man, the one who had given you the machine, standing there near your place.
"Oh, you're here..." you murmured, surprised yet not entirely shocked.
The old man smiled faintly, as if he’d been expecting this moment. "Can I get it back?" he asked gently, his voice carrying a quiet understanding.
You nodded, the weight of his words from before still lingering in your mind as you handed the machine back to him. It felt as if he had been a silent witness to everything that had transpired.
Before he walked away, he turned to face you one last time, his gaze penetrating yet wise. "Do you know," he began, his voice a low murmur, "you can’t change someone unless they themselves want to change?"
His words hit you like a heavy realization. He was right. It shouldn’t just be you who wanted change; it had to be him too. It had to come from both sides. The problem had never been about fixing things alone—it was about the both of you, working through it together.
With that, the old man walked away, leaving you standing there, holding onto the truth he'd just given you. A truth you didn’t know you needed to hear.
warning: smut, angst, virgin!lee seokmin, soft dom fem!reader mdni
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
You've spent all day prepping, making sure everything's perfect. It's Seokmin's birthday, and you want to give him a night he'll never forget. The room is dim, lit only by the soft flicker of candles you've placed everywhere. Their warm glow dances on the walls, creating an intimate, romantic and magical atmosphere. The air is thick with the heady scent of vanilla and jasmine from the candles, blending with the faint smell of roses from the petals scattered across the bed.
When Seokmin walks in, he stops dead in his tracks. His eyes widen, taking in the scene. You can see the surprise and the flicker of something deeper in his eyes—desire, maybe even a bit of awe. You stand there, heart pounding, wearing that white dress that flows around you like a soft, delicate cloud.
"Happy birthday, baby," you whisper, stepping toward him. Your hands slide up his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt, and you rest them on his shoulders. You rise on your tiptoes and plant a gentle kiss on his lips.
Seokmin's heart is racing—you can feel it under your palms. He's nervous and excited. "Y/N, this is... amazing," he stammers. His fingers, trembling just a little, cup your face. He leans in, and his lips find yours again, this time with more urgency. The kiss deepens and grows more passionate. You feel his hands sliding into your hair, pulling you closer, and you respond eagerly, pressing your body against his.
The world outside fades away. It's just the two of you now, wrapped in this moment. Your fingers trace patterns on his back, feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. The warmth of his body against yours, the taste of his lips, and the intoxicating scent of his skin combine into a heady rush that makes your pulse quicken.
You pull away just enough to tug at his shirt, lifting it over his head. He helps by raising his arms, and then your hands are on his bare chest, exploring his muscles' smooth, firm planes. You kiss his neck, feel the shiver running through him, and smile against his skin.
His breath hitches when your lips move lower, trailing kisses down his collarbone. He wants you—God, you can feel how much he wants you. But you recognise hesitation, too, a tension in his muscles. Whenever things get heated, he always finds a way to stop, to pull back. You know it's not because he doesn't want you. It's something else, something he's never reasonably said.
Tonight, though, you're determined. You guide him towards the bed, gently pushing him down. You climb onto his lap, feeling the hardness of his desire pressing against you. He freezes, his eyes wide, a mixture of lust and fear in them.
"Seokmin, what's wrong?" you ask softly, searching his face.
He hesitates, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I... I have to tell you something," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm a virgin."
You pause, taken aback for a moment. But then you see the vulnerability in his eyes, and your heart melts. You cup his face in your hands, looking into his eyes with all your love for him. "Oh, baby, you don't have to be embarrassed. I'm sorry if I made you feel pressured," you say, your voice filled with concern and affection.
He shakes his head, a small, shy smile on his lips. "No, it's not that. I just... I didn't want to disappoint you," he admits, his voice cracking with vulnerability.
You lean in and kiss him, slow and lingering. "You could never disappoint me, Seokmin. We can go as slow as you want," you murmur against his lips.
He looks at you, and something in his eyes changes. There's a newfound courage there, a determination. "But tonight, I want you. I need you," he whispers back, his voice filled with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.
You smile, relieved and excited. "Me too," you breathe, diving back into the kiss, your hands roaming over his body with deliberate slowness that drives you both wild.
The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more fervent. You guide him to lie back on the bed, your lips never leaving his as you start to undress him. The feel of his skin under your fingers sends shivers down your spine, and you can't help the low moan that escapes your lips when you kiss down his neck, your tongue tracing a hot, wet path to his collarbone.
When he's finally naked beneath you, you take a moment to drink in the sight of him—flushed and trembling with anticipation. You kiss your way down his chest, your lips and tongue teasing every inch of his skin until you reach his hips.
You look up at him, your eyes filled with adoration and desire. You can see the tension in his body, the way his muscles tighten with anticipation and a hint of nervousness. You want to make this moment as special and comfortable for him as possible.
With a reassuring smile, you kiss the inside of his thigh, your breath warm against his skin. Seokmin's breath hitches, and he lets out a soft moan as you continue to plant gentle, lingering kisses along his thigh. You can feel his body relax slightly, his fingers gripping the sheets as he surrenders to the sensation.
You take your time, your kisses slow and deliberate, your tongue tracing delicate patterns on his skin. You move closer to his centre, your mouth hovering above him, your breath warm and teasing. Seokmin's eyes are closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to maintain control.
"Y/N," he breathes, his voice filled with longing and uncertainty.
You look up at him, your eyes filled with tenderness. "It's okay, baby," you whisper. "Just relax and let me take care of you."
With that, you take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around him in a soft, warm embrace. Seokmin lets out a deep, shuddering moan, his hips bucking involuntarily. The sensation is overwhelming, and he can't hold back the sounds of pleasure that escape his lips.
You work him with a slow, deliberate rhythm, your tongue swirling around him, exploring every inch. You can feel him trembling beneath you, his body responding to your touch in ways that make your heart race. You take him deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you create a gentle suction, your hand wrapped around the base to provide additional stimulation.
Seokmin's fingers tangle in your hair, his grip tight but not forceful. He's lost in the pleasure, his mind a whirlwind of sensation and emotion. Every touch, every movement of your mouth sends waves of ecstasy coursing through his body.
You continue your ministrations, your pace steady and unhurried. You want to draw out the pleasure, to make this experience as intense and enjoyable for him as possible. You can feel him getting closer, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, his moans growing louder and more desperate.
"Y/N, I'm—" he begins, his voice strained.
You don't stop, and your movements become more fervent and insistent. You want to take him all the way, to show him just how much you love him, how much you want to please him. With one final, deep suck, you feel him tense beneath you, his body shuddering as he reaches his climax.
Seokmin cries out your name, his hips bucking as he releases into your mouth. You take it all, your tongue and lips milking every drop, your hands soothingly caressing his thighs as he rides out the waves of pleasure. When he finally relaxes, you pull back, a satisfied smile on your lips as you look up at him.
He's breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he struggles to catch his breath. His eyes are half-lidded, a dazed, blissful expression on his face. You crawl up his body, your hands and lips trailing soft touches and kisses as you make your way back to his lips.
You kiss him deeply, allowing him to taste himself on your lips. Seokmin responds eagerly, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. The moment's intensity, the raw physical and emotional connection, leaves you both trembling with desire.
"Y/N," he whispers against your lips, his voice filled with awe and gratitude. "That was... incredible."
You smile, your heart swelling with love for him. "There's more, Seokmin," you murmur, your eyes dark with desire. "If you want."
He nods, his hands sliding down your back to grip your hips. "I want you, Y/N. I need you," he says, his voice filled with conviction.
You move to straddle him, positioning yourself just above his now-hard-again member. You take a moment to look into his eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation. All you see is love and desire, making your heart race.
"We'll go slow," you promise, your voice soft and soothing. "We'll take it slow, baby."
Seokmin nods, his hands resting on your hips, his fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. You guide him to your entrance, lowering yourself slowly, inch by inch, until he's entirely inside you. You both gasp at the sensation, your bodies perfectly aligned, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.
Guide him to your entrance, lowering yourself slowly, inch by inch, until he's entirely inside you. You both gasp at the sensation, your bodies perfectly aligned, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.
The feeling is intense, a delicious mix of pleasure and slight discomfort. You take a moment to breathe, to adjust to the incredible sensation of having him fill you so completely. His eyes are wide, his lips parted as he gazes up at you with a blend of awe and desire. You can feel his heartbeat racing against your skin, matching the wild thrum of your own.
"Are you okay?" you whisper, your voice calm and tender.
He nods, swallowing hard. "Yeah," he breathes, his hands tightening on your hips. "You feel... so good."
You smile down at him, your heart swelling with love. "So do you, Seokmin. So do you."
You start to move slowly at first, rocking your hips in a gentle rhythm. The friction is electric, sending jolts of pleasure through your body with every movement. Seokmin's hands slide up your sides, exploring the curves of your body with reverence. His touch is warm, grounding you in the moment.
"God, Y/N," he groans, his head falling back against the pillows. "This feels... amazing."
You can't help but smile at his reaction, the pure, unfiltered joy in his voice. You increase your pace slightly, finding a rhythm that makes your breath catch and your heart race. The room is filled with the soft sounds of your bodies moving together, the mingling of your breaths, the occasional gasp or moan of pleasure.
Seokmin's hands find your breasts, his fingers brushing over your nipples, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. You arch into his touch, encouraging him. He takes your nipple between his fingers, rolling it gently, and you gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily.
"Yes, Seokmin," you moan, your voice trembling with pleasure. "Just like that."
He watches you with wide, dark eyes, his lips parted, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The sight of him, so overwhelmed with desire, so open and vulnerable, sends a fresh wave of arousal through you. You lean down to kiss him, your tongue tracing the seam of his lips, tasting the sweetness of his mouth.
His hands slide down to your hips, guiding your movements, his grip firm but gentle. You move together, finding a rhythm that feels right, that brings you both closer to the edge. The sensation of him inside you, the way he fills you completely, the way his body responds to yours, is almost too much to bear.
"Seokmin," you gasp, your voice catching as a particularly intense wave of pleasure washes over you. "I can't... I can't hold on much longer."
"Me neither," he groans, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. "Y/N, I—"
You both lose yourselves in the moment, the world narrowing to just the two of you, the heat of your bodies, the mingling of your breaths, the heady scent of desire that fills the air. Every touch and movement is filled with love, passion, and a deep, undeniable connection.
You can feel the tension building inside you, a tight coil of pleasure that threatens to snap at any moment. Your movements become more urgent, more desperate as you chase that elusive climax, your body trembling with the effort.
"Seokmin," you moan, your voice breaking with the intensity of your need. "I'm so close."
"Me too," he gasps, his fingers digging into your hips, his eyes wide and dark with desire.
With a final, urgent thrust, you feel the coil of pleasure inside you snap, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of intense, overwhelming sensation. You cry out, your body shaking with the force of your release, your mind going blank with the sheer intensity of it.
Seokmin follows you over the edge, his own climax tearing through him with a force that leaves him breathless. He moans your name, his hands gripping you tightly as he spills inside you, his body shuddering with the intensity of his pleasure.
For a moment, you both lie there, tangled together, your bodies trembling, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. The world slowly comes back into focus, and you realise that you're still holding each other, your bodies still connected, the aftershocks of your orgasms still pulsing through you.
You smile, your heart swelling with love and gratitude for this incredible, beautiful man. "Thank you, Seokmin," you whisper, kissing his lips softly. "That was... amazing."
He smiles back at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "No, thank you, Y/N," he murmurs, his fingers gently stroking your hair. "You made this the best birthday I've ever had."
You laugh softly, your heart full. "Happy birthday, Seokmin," you say, your voice tender. "I love you."
"I love you too," he replies, his voice filled with emotion. "More than anything."
You stay like that for a while, just holding each other, savouring the warmth and intimacy of the moment. The candles flicker softly, casting a golden glow over the room, and the scent of vanilla and jasmine lingers in the air, creating a cocoon of love and tenderness around you.
Eventually, you roll off of him, lying by his side, your bodies still touching, still connected. You trace lazy patterns on his chest with your fingers, your touch light and soothing.
"Do you feel okay?" you ask quietly, looking up at him with concern.
He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "I feel amazing," he says. "I was nervous, but you made it... perfect. Thank you for being so patient with me."
"Always," you reply, kissing him softly. "I love you, Seokmin. There's no rush. We have all the time in the world."
He holds you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I love you too, Y/N," he murmurs. "Thank you for tonight. Thank you for everything."
You fall asleep in each other's arms, your bodies warm and tangled, your hearts full. The night had been a beautiful blend of passion and tenderness, a perfect beginning to a new chapter in your relationship.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ like & repost if u enjoyed !!!
genre: strangers to lovers, small town au, grumpy x sunshine; fluff, angst, comedy
↳ hometown cha cha cha x once upon a small town x summer strike inspired
pairings: gn!reader x lee seokmin, librarian!reader x handyman!seokmin
description: you're stuck in jeju for the summer having to run your grandma's library when you should be on vacation. things could not get worse. good thing lee seokmin, the man who you run into almost everyday, is there to make your summer a bit better.
word count estimation: 13k??
a/n - yes, dokyeom is inspired by hong dusik and yes, i love small town kdramas. anyways, please be patient as i hurriedly work on finishing and posting the final fic :') . comment or ask to be added to the tag list!
seokmin thinks he likes you.
he saw you practically every day. from then on, he wondered if he would ever have a bad day again as long as he saw you.
first, it was when he realized you would remember everything he said, all the small things, which was crazy because you couldn’t even remember what you had for dinner the day before.
it was a late night at the library. he had just finished tutoring his last student and you were closing the library.
seokmin had asked if you were hungry and you said no, only for you to be interrupted by the grumbling of your stomach saying otherwise. then that led to seokmin teasing you and you punching his shoulder, telling him to shut up.
so, he had ordered takeout to be delivered to the library for the both of you.
he had laid out all the side dishes for you as you unboxed the main dishes.
when you both finally sat down to eat, he has grabbed your chopsticks and split them for you, making you shy and then kick his foot gently under the table for mentioning your reaction.
what made him blush though was when he noticed you moved the dish of sliced cucumbers closer to you.
when he gave you a questioning look, you just shrugged, without even looking at him as you dug into the food, “you said you hate cucumbers.”
but it was definitely the time you were there for him when he felt the loneliest.
it was when mrs. park, the chinese restaurant owner, was a vendor at the summer festival in the next town over. she had called him when he happened to be with you.
the moment he ended the call and a cloudy look filled his eyes, you immediately picked up on it and asked what was wrong.
his words were brief. all he said was that mrs. park needed his help during a festival, but he declined, and mrs. park was not pleased.
you knew him well. you knew he hated disappointed the townspeople since it was his only job to fix their problems. but you also knew his trauma with crowded places, not that he knew you knew at the time.
so imagine his surprise when mrs. park texted him a blurry selfie the day of the festival and in that selfie was a beaming mrs. park and you in the background wearing an apron and hairnet with a dead look on your face.
“thank you for sending y/n in your place instead! she’s grumpy but a great worker!” she had texted.
seokmin had never asked you to go in his place.
a couple hours when he assumed you’d be home, he immediately called you.
“why’d you go in my place, y/n? i know you probably hated it the whole time,” he whined into the phone.
you laughed. and it comforted his soul. “why didn’t you tell me your fear of crowded places was real?”
his silence makes you sigh. “that day at the chinese restaurant with my friends, i accidentally overheard you and mrs. park talking about it. i didn’t mean to eavesdrop, i’m really sorry. and don’t feel bad for not doing something that you can’t do. it’s not your fault. if anything, let me do it.”
seokmin knows he likes you and he likes you so much that he doesn't know what to do about it.
─ Synopsis: Your sick boyfriend came by unannounced and has a strong hatred against the grape medicine you brought him.
But, that’s okay because Lee Seokmin’s fever was long gone in the morning due to your sweetness.
─ Pairing: Boyfriend!DK / Lee Seokmin x Gender-Neutral Reader
─ Genre: So fluffy im gonna die, just wholesome moment with Min<3
─ Concepts: Established relationship!, just seokmin being your boyfriend<3, seokmin is sick and reader basically takes care of him, some minor reference to “Our Beloved Summer” scene where Ung got sick or sumn i dont really remember please don’t jump me, cuddling with seokmin, grape medicine is horrible along with cherry
─ Count of Words: 2.0k
─ Inspiration of the work: Love by Cosmic Boy (Ft. Fisher) + Hug Me by KUN
❒ a/n: been so busy and just tired </3 so sorry for such a late update. but i wanted to fully publish my svt m.list so!! HERE’S DK<3 this was based off of a scene from Our Beloved Summer because im a sucker for kdramas and i unfortunately relate to ung and ive had these in my drafts since december HELLO? my insomnia doing the unspeakable i dont really remember what ive been writing in my notes SOBBING- but i have plenty ideas for svt <3<3 hope yall enjoy! muah
ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ
“Seokmin, what are you doing here?!”
“Please let me inside, it’s really cold.”
Your boyfriend stood in front of your apartment door, a red blush staining the tip of his nose and along his cheeks. He seems tired, shivering in his place despite the scarf tightly wrapped around his neck and his teeth continuing to chatter; though the cold is obviously cursing him, he tries to contain a smile. One smile you always adored and fell for since the first day you met him during highschool.
Well, the two of you are in college now.
Moving aside and taking him by the arm with concern written on your ‘beautiful’ face - as Seokmin loves to call it - you are bringing him inside in the warmth of your apartment. Seokmin grins at you, the congestion within his nose exposed by struggling breathe; the helpless attempts by sniffling, you realize there is something more to Seokmin’s visit.
After all, it was no ordinary occurrence for your boyfriend to appear in the middle of the night without texting.
Seokmin slips off his shoes but keeps the puffy jacket hugging his body along with the scarf, the smile remaining on his pink lips - “I thought I was going to freeze out there! But, now I am all warm and cozy here~” he hums in content, facing you with a smile that holds no worries whatsoever. You blink back at him, shaking your head.
“Is something wrong, Seokmin?” You ask, a hand reaching out and being placed on his forehead after sweeping away the bangs of his brown hair. He stiffens under your touch, raising a hand to move off your hand as an attempt to avoid the situation; however, the heat radiating off of him is enough to make you worry. “You have such a high fever, Seokmin!” You exclaim, the brunette smiling sheepishly.
Knowing you for so long, Seokmin made no claims to defend himself or try to argue with you; he wasn’t the best liar when it comes to you. Surely, he could convince his friends with his dramatic attitude, but he melts whenever he’s with you. Expectantly, you are nagging about his sickness while dragging him over to the couch. He grins at you though, unaffected by your words.
“How long have you been sick? Why did you go out of your way to visit me in this condition? What happened, you passed out when coming here, and you died out in the cold!”
The more he listened, he couldn't help but let a chuckle escape past his lips. Your worry and excessive imagination for any situation is something he loves about you; your willingness to think about him first is what had his heart captured in the first place. Surely, his own kindness prioritizing you will always be returned whenever he is with you - he confidently believes you will never let him down at such a task.
Scurrying off to your kitchen to prepare a warm cup of tea and some medicine you’ve kept in your fridge whenever you fall ill, Seokmin watches you return with the warm cup of tea in one hand and another with a small cup of disgusting purple liquid. He pouts, “You only have grape?” He takes the cup of medicine, his own nose scrunching up like a child.
You laugh a bit, “At least it’s not cherry.” You comfort him, the tangent of worry from before melted away by his lightheartedness of the situation. He laughs with you, his own shoulders sinking in defeat by your reasoning. “You are definitely right about that,” Seokmin admits when eyeing the monstrous liquid sitting inside the little medicine cup. Is it going to come alive the more he stared?
For some odd reason, you let him take his time. Your eyes softened by the sight of his lips pouting, his eyes slightly narrowing at the medication; he seems to be preparing himself for the inevitable.
“Are you sure that you don’t have any other flavor?”
“I am very sure, Min.”
A silence resumes, where he builds some confidence to drink it or possibly finding any other excuse to stall.
“How about a pill?”
“Min, this is the medicine I have.”
Seokmin sighs in reply before taking the tiny cup to his lips, tilting his head back and swallowing thickly at the thin liquid. You laugh at the dramaticness, especially the ability to resemble someone downing a shot with a cup of medicine. Slamming the plastic cup on the coffee table in front of him, an exclamation of disgust leaving in his loud voice of his while sticking out his tongue in distaste.
You smile at him, reaching a hand out to pat him on the shoulder to hopefully comfort your dramatic boyfriend and hand the warm cup of tea held in your hands. He takes it, taking a small sip before sighing - “Thank you, sweetheart.” He murmurs, relaxing against the cushions of the couch with a shudder running along his spine. You nod at his words, moving a bit closer to untie the scarf around his neck.
“If you wear layers with a high fever, it can get worse.” You softly tell him, your touch delicate and gentle. Seokmin stares back at you, admiring your fond expression; your eyes revealing a warmth he can’t help but be lured to. Leaning in, he steals a kiss from your lips and the brief taste of medication invades your senses.
He pulls away first, panic reflecting back at you despite the lovely smile on your lips; oh, he wishes to kiss you more. However, he shook off the desire to - “I am sick! I can’t get you sick.”
You laugh at his concern, his warm fingertips wiping at your lips in hopes of wiping away the contagious sickness he held. You roll your eyes, “Don’t worry, Min. I can always reserve kisses for you. Only you~” You say while taking his hand, placing chaste kisses on his fingers affectionately. Seokmin shakes his head, “If you get sick tomorrow, it’ll be my fault.”
“That means you’ll take care of me next, right?” You laugh, placing his hand on his lap while removing the puffy jacket he wore. He thinks for a moment and nods, “I will always take care of you.” He confesses with a boyish grin plastered on his face, his words light but it held a promise of loyalty. You grin back at him, “Then I look forward to it.”
Finally removing the layers, Seokmin shifts in his seat and sighs at the dark blue sweater hugging his body and he shudders due to his fever. You reach over to the blanket folded on the armrest of the couch, wrapping it around him to hopefully fight off the shivers. You hand him the remote and his hand peeks out from the fluffy blanket to only recoil back inside his cocooned warmth, you chuckle.
“I'll be right back, okay?”
“No, staay~” He pouts, opening his arms for you and the blanket falls from his shoulders. You wanted to finish up some chores, but his cute pout and whiny voice made you stay much longer; you sigh in defeat, only rolling your eyes with a smile painted on your beautiful face. You settle down next to him, Seokmin inviting you into the blanket and wrapping an arm around you to pull you close.
Cuddling up next to him, you rest your head on his chest with the remote facing the television and flickering on with a press of a button. “We should watch the drama we were watching,” Seokmin suggests with the familiar red logo of ‘Netflix’ popping up on screen and having the familiar jingle play. You nod and smile, “Sure. I wanna know what happens next.”
Within two episodes in and halfway through the third one, Seokmin is falling asleep with you in his arms; the warmth of your presence and the serenity of the shared atmosphere, and possibly the medication, he is drifting off to dreamland. You’ve noticed his lulling head, the way he fights off the sleep to no avail, his eyes closing shut then opening before closing again; you can’t help but giggle at your boyfriend’s cuteness.
“You can sleep, Min. You must be so tired,” You whisper and pause the episode with the remote. You bring a hand up to his face, your thumb caressing the skin of his face as you slowly move his face to face you properly; Seokmin looks back at you with a tired expression, pouting slightly. “I wanted to stay up…Sorry, my sweetheart.” He whispers and you shake your head with a warm smile. You lean in to place a chaste kiss near his lips, “Get some rest.”
Your words become a spell upon his ears, his eyes instantly closing and he is leaning against you to cradle you in his arms closer, if possible. Before falling into deep slumber, you caught him whispering three words; no matter how many times you hear them, those three words are enough to have your heart beat a little faster with an aching smile plastered on your face.
“I love you.”
Admiring his handsome features and the words of genuineness lingering in the air, you basked in it for some time before leaning in to kiss his lips softly. “I love you so much,” you whisper back before shifting to get comfortable; trying your best not to awake him. Once you do, you grow comfortable in his embrace to join him in dreamland also.
Words of love remaining in the air with a sweet aftertaste.
. . .
Morning light seeps into the living space of your apartment, the warm sun rays landing on the two of you. You shift on the couch, gradually recollecting the memories of the night before and you smile once seeing Seokmin fast asleep still, peace embedded on his face as he snoozes away. Beginning to move away to get up, Seokmin’s grasp tightens and he awakens to your movement.
“Good morning~” He said with his morning voice, sounding deeper than usual with heavy sleep lacing it. You smile, “Good morning, Min.” You greet him in a soft voice. He smiles at you, hugging you close to him and you instantly melt into his warmth; whatever reason you had for getting up is long gone, as you are completely captivated by the comforts of his embrace.
Raising a hand to delicately place on his forehead, you feel the temperature is normal. You sigh in relief, “It looks like you don’t have a fever.” You remark and he tilts his head at you, a grin playing at his lips. Leaning in, the tip of his nose nuzzling against yours - “Maybe I was just lovesick.”
“Oh, were you faking it all along?” You tease him, playing along with his joke.
Seokmin laughs, “You do know…I came here because I missed you.”
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Or maybe you wanted to be taken care of. We see each other everyday.”
He pursed his lips in consideration to your words, his eyes falling away as he thoughtfully pondered a reply - “Maybe that too.”
Laughing and hugging him, his arms tightening around you in response with a hand placed on the back of your head. You rest your head against his chest and he mindlessly lets his fingers run through your hair, his touch easing you into a sense of serenity. Once you relax, he leans down to your ear, his breath tickling your ear - “I didn’t snore last night right?”
You chuckle and shake your head, “Nope. You were just fine.”
“Because you were here with me. My little medicine~”
You laugh and rolled your eyes, “Good thing, I am not flavored grape or cherry huh?”
Seokmin shook his head, smiling widely with his eyes crinkling in mere delight. Leaning in, he kisses you and against your lips, murmuring - “No. You are much sweeter.”
synopsis. After you meet your bestfriend's girlfriend, you feel content with your decision to give up your feelings for him━ nevertheless, it hurts all the same.
warnings. gn! reader, angst, unrequited love, onesided crush, highschool besties, non idol au, hurt/kinda comfort?
from vyon. not edited at all!!! sorry ab it. anyways, vyon angst debut :D hello to all the followers i got from my svt crack oneshot, i think it's funny that this is content im posting after that but this has been a wip longer than the reddit confession 😸 ❲trc blew up so i might make it a short smau or smth, maybe after i get a few more chapters of npc out❳
do not repost / copy / translate.
It's strange to say you felt relief when Lee Seokmin introduced you to his lover, the love you had for him cracking like rusted 18th century armor. Over the years of knowing the boy, you've been collecting pieces of him to fill yourself up━ immature and eager to have him in any way you could, romantic or otherwise. Every platonic exchange that frequented between you two was churned into hope that you held carefully in your palms like water from a running stream and gulped down like air, it's not surprising to you nor anyone that knew the two of you that you drank yourself into sickness. You can't say for sure when these feelings started, all you know now is Lee Seokmin, who has forced you to don your love for him like a metal suit so that you are safe from his attacks even though your bones ache and creak with every move. Lee Seokmin, who you are so full of want for that it oozes out the cracks of your armour and turns silver to rust, making it hard to move.
Lee Seokmin, who was known to everyone as akin to the sun. In the way that his entire face would shift through phases when he'd smile until he was practically beaming, his personality made to soak in the imperfections of those around him and break it apart to reflect it back in ways to be loved. Something as mundane as your name leaving his mouth is spoken in a way that you've never heard: dusted in gold, dripping with ichor, punctuated with the breath of a shooting star━ like the sun, you remember, just like the sun. Syllables making up your name orbited around him as everything of yours did as soon when they left his mouth, letters forever strung into a line and stuck in that heliocentric orbit until gravity wastes away.
"Y/n━" He speaks your name and it's the first time it's ever felt so empty, stripped of its previous greatness; your name has lost its shine, turning from silver to a copper, turning flesh into colours of zombie-ish hues. ❲Still, there's something inherently freeing about this moment.❳ Then he shifts to her, his entire body moving just to accommodate his eyes to her in her great entirety and even with just a glance, he's already beaming. '"━ Eunhye," the way he says her name, you have to imagine its the way the sky has always encompassed the sun, taking on its light even at the risk of burn. Her name is one you've heard several times, in both passing and long anecdotes when Seokmin would share intimate stories of the two of them on their latest endeavours. Her name leaving Seokmin's parted lips is different to the way he says yours each syllable of her name making his lips open in an exaggerated, twisting his tongue into the oddest shapes just so he could have the taste of her name on his tongue for longer. Her name leaves his lips and then he, the sun, starts orbiting around the word that encapsulated her being, you can see it in his eyes now━ even though you're the one he's meant to be speaking to. His lips are tugged into a smile directed towards her, he stands with one arm prominent on her waist and you can't help but stare until he calls your name again.
Eunhye is pretty, she has that softish air about her that you think suits Seokmin; her eyes are round, her lips are pink, she has long hair━ you don't know what else to think other than she's pretty. You smile and extend a hand, repeating your name to her. She takes your hand, breaks out into a similar smile and then her name is spoken for the third time; you test it in your mind, chanting it slowly so that you can try to speak it as pretty as Seokmin does.
"Eunhye, it's nice to finally meet you," the words feel like a breath of fresh air and her name is awkward around your swollen tongue, there's an itch that grows on the roof of your mouth when your tongue hits it to say her name, it shoots down to your throat and lodges somewhere near your heart. From then on, Seokmin is uncharacteristically quieter as he lets you two get to know each other, often chiming in with comedic comments that embarrasses either of you or to defend himself when your conversation derails to stories about a much younger him, from either high school or from just yesterday. Eunhye is not someone you can hate━ you can practically feel why Seokmin fell in love with her to the point that you're frustrated.
If he was the sun, she had to have been the sky; everything about her was simply mundane. You won't deny that she was a girl with boring visuals, perfect to the point of blandness but once you fell in love with her, you irrevocably fell. You could only imagine that Seokmin fell in love with details that made her up, her sweet gestures, how easy it was for her to care for someone who was a mere stranger only an hour prior. Walking around aimlessly with her felt like you were meeting up with an old friend you had not seen in a long time, awkwardness and shyness contaminated your every word and interaction but still, you were full of affection for the girl. It's nice that Lee Seokmin had found a girl that suited him.
The day you meet Eunhye━ the day you decide to give up on your feelings, is a day comfortably slotted right in the middle of spring. That time where the trees have completed their transition from winter, where the flowers that have died the year previous have began to blossom again, shedding beautiful colours amongst the sea of green, where each unbearable ray of sunshine is accompanied with a gust of wind and the shadows of never stopping clouds. Far away from it's last cycle of winter and its next. It's the same as every other spring, with its vague brightness and warmish days all bleeding into each other, accompanied with the voices of friends and their laughter.
By the time the hour is over, you have not a single thing to hate about Eunhye from the way she stomps her feet when she laughs and covers her smile to the way she is uselessly stubborn and made Seokmin physically carry you off into a corner whilst she paid in that cafe you guys rested at. The close interaction between you and Seokmin made you flush━ how natural it came for him to simply touch you as if you were his, how your arms instinctively snapped around his to keep yourself safe as you were dragged away from the counter. The intimacy of it all made you feel guilty but when Eunhye returned and her and Seokmin shared another look, you knew you were nothing but an overactive fool. Because Lee Seokmin does not see you any more than a friend and Song Eunhye knows, she relishes, in that fact; she knows you are no competition to her and that's why she had turned around and simply laughed when she saw Seokmin's arms around your waist as you tried to wrestle your way out of his hold.
He's never been one to shy away from physical touch, it comes to him all too naturally like he was made to hold another person; it was all comfortable to him: holding hands with people he was walking with, hugging anyone whenever he felt a burst of emotion from either himself or them, to even repeatedly patting someone as he laughed, he seeked out touch in the same way the rays of sun would seek out the earth━ maybe that's why Eunhye didn't care too much about the way you two were wrestling. Either way, he's always been like that.
It was during highschool that the two of you met, spring it was. Except you remember this spring so much more vividly, full of beautiful flowers all the same but always drowned in rain; even on days where the rain would ease up for the sun, it was impossible to ignore the puddles that had collected on the paths, the roads, how sunshine would split into halves as they reflected off the droplets that hung from leaves. On the day that you and Seokmin met, it was not a day where there had been an allowance for the sun. The sheer amount that it rained that day led you to the belief that God had been trying to drown you; it had interrupted the cram school session you were at, your head turning towards the windows as the other students did, gasps falling out their mouths and eyebrows creasing as they thought about the way back home in the unforgiving weather when the rain began a faster, harsher descent, like it were trying to unearth something. The sound of thunder cracking against the asphalt interrupted your thoughts, a frown displayed on your face as you substitute mathematical expressions in your mind for the rounded corners of your walk home, worrying over the possibility of getting wet and sick over the missing 'x' plastered all over your work sheet. You pray for the rain to ease up for the journey.
Your prayers are not heard. By the time cram school ends, it is still raining heavily and you are holding your bag under your blazer, stuck at the door of the building where you've yet to become a victim to the weather. Several of your classmates were smart enough to have umbrellas stuffed in their bags or absent-minded enough to always leave an umbrella in their bag from the rainer seasons or were comfortable enough with the adults in their life that they'll call anyone they know with a car to come and get them. Maybe Lee Seokmin was sent your way as an apology from whatever greater entity there was out there for the shitty day you'd been having━ the idea of it honestly makes you laugh. You're still stood outside the building of your cram school, looking out uselessly into the street as rain continued splattering the puddles infront of you and seeping through the split of your shoe and its soles.
The sound of his shoes hitting against the pavement melodically make a nice beat with the rain, thudding against the asphalt, you'd soon learn enough about him to know it's strange that such a bright human would make such a good baseline with the dreary blues. The first time you meet Lee Seokmin drenches your socks in rain water; he skids to a stop right infront of you, his feet striking the large puddle you've been entertaining yourself with for the last ten minutes. Watching the sole of his boxy school shoes send a dramatic ripple through its body and breaking droplets away it as the small bullets of water attacked everything around it━ including your feet.
"Oh━" The stupid sound that leaves you when you feel the water seep into your shoes replayed in your head again when you look up to see the boy who has just half drenched you. He apologises so profusely that you start to get annoyed and then suddenly, you are no longer alone as the rain continued splitting the earth open.
Your eyes slowly move over to the boy stood beside you, attempting to wring all the water out of his shirt. Water clings to his hair like the sea swallowed the hues of the setting sun, stuck to his temples and forehead like streaks of fresh paint. Unconsciously, you follow the tracks of a water droplet that falls from the hair that's curved so that it has fallen onto his nose and slides down the steepness of his nose. It catches at his cupid's bow and you think it's stuck there for a second before it moves again, taking his face as an amusement park of slides until he puckered up his bottom lip; you watched as his bottom lip moved over the top, effectively catching the rain water and you accidentally snort.
The sound is just as noticeable behind a hand, you can see his embarrassed smile in your peripherals. Though maybe embarrassing himself was enough to make him feel comfortable around you because he somehow shuffled his way from the little corner he'd huddled himself into to the middle, closer to you and further away from the rain. Your eyes glance over just to check what he was doing and then quickly snap back to ahead of you when he thinks to do the same as you.
"Horrible weather, huh?" He speaks for the first time without lowering his head repetitively.
You can't help the way the corners of your mouth began tugging upwards at his attempt of conversation, "you don't have to make conversation, y'know." And then you find there might be something wrong with you because you suddenly have enough confidence to tease this guy like you've known him a while when you couldn't even answer a question in a class full of people you've known for years. If someone had passed you two now, they might have thought you were friends.
The guy doesn't seem embarrassed, "but I should be allowed to, no?"
The answer leaves you impressed, eyes blinking wide as your lips tugged downwards into an amused smile. "Sure," you shrugged; you're still talking to this boy like you have a immature crush on him and you're trying to impress him and the thought of it later that night when you're in bed will make you want to rip it your hair.
"Lee Seokmin," he timely introduced himself. His head turns to you, his entire body swivelling so that he could dedicate his entire front to listening to you introduce yourself.
"L/n Y/n," you indulge in the strange boy whom you felt the strange need to impress. The urge doesn't ever stop, it grows and grows, hitting against your bones and dribbling through the system in your body that was meant to carry your blood. It had started off with tickling your feet, the sand uncomfortable between your toes until Lee Seokmin continued his reign in your life and completely drowned you with the need to always impress him.
By the time you truly are fortunate enough to get know Lee Seokmin, the time you spend with him is but a constant of needing to impress him━ not because he is just an attractive guy on the street that may remember you whenever the rain gets a little heavier and his shirt clings to his chest uncomfortable but because you know him and you want him to know you.
The lie that you don't remember when you fell in love with Lee Seokmin was only that: a lie. In truth, it was a rehearsal for a universe in which you didn't need to remember when you started loving him because it wouldn't have ended, it was you preparing for that pretty fairy tale retelling in which you told your friends that you didn't remember when you fell in love with him, when you came to the realisation he was 'the one'; in a universe in which Lee Seokmin loved you back, you wouldn't have remembered that dreary spring day in which you began loving a boy that would never love you back.
Perhaps the universe had always been in favour of Song Eunhye because her and Seokmin live near each other so you split off at the road with the cofffee shop where you watched the barista try and get Seokmin's number. You cross the road, thinking that you love Lee Seokmin, even though he is currently walking away from you whilst holding another girl's hand. You're on the other side of the street as you think about how much you love Lee Seokmin and you think about how much you'll think of him when it rains, when it's spring, when you look at paintings with texture and remember the way his hair streaked against the tan of his skin. When you stop and turn to glance back at the two, you think about how much you'll forever love Lee Seokmin, even when you don't love him and your affections go towards someone that will love you the way you loved him.
When you turn around to finally go home, you think about a day when the rain will be just rain and spring will be just another season that will pass; you'll think of the relief you felt when Song Eunhye became an obstacle in your affections for your bestfriend. You'd think about the way your lungs swelled with air from the world, turning larger than your heart and you'll remember that the reason why humans don't go staring at the sun is because it will hurt. And finally, instead of thinking that the universe favoured Song Eunhye, you'll remember that the universe loved you the same and could not bear to watch you fall like Icarus. You'll finally, finally take off that rusted armour that you've been wearing to protect your fragile heart from the boy always beside you and fall in love with the way the rain falls on your skin instead.
When that time comes, you'll confidently say that you no longer love Lee Seokmin but you'd still go the long way round to avoid the places you two used to frequent, where everyone who knew you two, knew that you liked him. You'd look down a familiar road and turn around to avoid that ramen shop where the owner's daughter knew that there had to be something going on and would press even when you two corrected your relationship as platonic, where you two had been forever immortalised as friends and just that.
warnings: slightly suggestive, but nothing happens!
rating: pg-13
a/n: another svt fic!! we’re supposed to have a snow storm where i live so i felt it was very fitting to write this! thank you a bunch to @playmetheclassics for being a beta reader for this fic, along with creating the title! this is a submission for k-vanity’s season’s greetings event! theme: traditional/lounge, accessories/extras: first snow, snow slopes, snowball fight/playing in snow, peppermint hot chocolate.
“Y/N, it’s already well past noon!” You hear a familiar voice shout to you from outside, and you jolt up, quickly throwing your comforter off of you. Instantly regretting that you removed your only object of warmth, you jog to your door, greeted with the bright smile of your best friend. The light from the winter sun, along with the freshly fallen snow, is enough for you to squint your eyes, still not fully awake.
Seokmin was dressed in his most extensive winter outfits you’ve seen him wear, with thick snow pants, but still maintaining his fashionable sense of style by choosing a chevron patterned brown peacoat and multicolored scarf. Was that scarf new? Making it clear that he was proud of his outfit and his success in waking you up, Seokmin invites himself in with an even bigger grin plastered on his face, while enveloping you in his typical cozy bear hugs.
“Ack! You have snow on you, Seokmin! Not to mention, you’re making me extremely cold and wet. Please…let me at least go get properly dressed first.” You huff, wanting to be surprised by his usual behavior, but nothing he did could phase you at this point. You had been best friends with his dorky self for over a decade, he was your person, and you were his. Letting him enjoy the hug for a couple more seconds, you find yourself becoming colder and colder as time passes. You unlatch yourself from his hug, frowning at him for making your pajamas a mess before he ruffles the bedhead state of your hair.
“Take it as punishment for sleeping past your alarm.” He cheekily retorts, clearly not remorseful for making you equally covered in snow.
“Ugh, I hate you.” You grunt, heading back into your room to change into snow attire.
“You love me.” He replies, making himself comfortable on your couch and scrolling through his phone.
You thank your past self for laying out your outfit last night and throw on your snow boots before heading back into the living room, “Can’t you let me win once, Min?” He shakes his head in refusal to your request, making you both smile at your daily dynamics. “Ugh, fine, did it snow a lot?” You follow up, preparing hot cocoa and paying special attention to adding a candy cane into his thermos. Peppermint hot cocoa had always been a weak spot for him, and you knew he loved the ‘artisan’ mix from the local market you purchased yearly. Vanilla bean hot cocoa, with some peppermint and marshmallows, added? The perfect way to warm up after a day in the cold.
“Yeah, way more than the forecaster predicted! We got a little over three feet/one meter of snow. When they said the first snow this year was going to be historic, they meant it.” He informs you, still stunned at the speed at which you got ready. Although spending time outside in the snow after the first snow was an annual tradition, he still found himself always turning giddy the night before you hung out. He loved you in a way that a friend shouldn’t, but you never saw him as anything more than your best friend. While you friend zoning him hurt, he was satisfied as long as he could stay by your side forever. But who knows, maybe he’ll gain the courage to tell you how he really feels someday.
Unaware of his feelings, you hum at the news of the weather before securing the caps onto your thermoses. “Alright, traditions are traditions, and we are going to go have fun today!” You resolutely decide.
“Look at my snowperson!” Seokmin insists, making you take a break from your construction of a gingerbread man-made from snow. Glancing at his creation, your eyebrows immediately furrow, unable to distinguish what he made. He wasn’t hiding how much he was anticipating your opinions, clapping his hands together and motioning in a way that said, lay it all out.
“It’s cool!” You carefully read his facial expression before giving your final review, “I would never have thought to make a snow alien. It’s different and very you!” You smile innocently, immediately regretting your interpretation as his triumphant smile turns into a disappointed frown.
“Wait, wait, I’m sorry! Is it not an alien?”
“It’s you…” He confesses meekly before looking at you again and realizing that you weren’t offended by his work. Seeing that you weren’t insulted gave Seokmin the confidence to be cocky again with you, “Y/N, it looks exactly like you. I practically made a clone.” He pouts, still trying to build his case for his self-proclaimed masterpiece.
“Uh huh, the day I admit it looks like me, you will know I have actually been swapped with my evil clone, Min.” You comment, still admiring your apparent twin.
“You clearly don’t have an eye for art!” He childishly defends himself, cringing since you were a well-respected art curator at your local art museum.
“See, the more you back up, the more it resembles you,” You grin in amusement at his explanation and nod, allowing him to explain more, “from here it- Woah!” Neither of you realized, but he had stepped farther and farther until the end of the flat part of the ground.
“Min!” You tried to latch onto his arm to prevent him from falling down the snowy hill, but it was too late, and you were now watching in horror as your best friend rolled down, laughing the entire way. The slope wasn’t extremely steep since you two used to sled down it as kids, but you know that the fall probably still would make him sore. “Gah, you idiot.” Sighing, you start to waddle to him slowly, but you slip on a patch of ice, and soon enough you’re rolling down the same path, hurtling towards him.
“I got you!” Seokmin yells from the bottom of the hill, comically holding out both of his arms to catch you. Onlookers were amused at the scene playing out in front of them, certain that you two had to be a bickering couple.
“Just let me keep rolling- Ow!” You try to motion for him to move over with your hands, but soon enough, your rolling form knocks him over like a bowling ball to a bowling pin. Rubbing your forehead and attempting to get up, your legs were still weak, and you found yourself immediately falling back onto the ground, or so you thought. The ground suddenly didn’t feel as cold or slippery anymore, and soon enough, you opened your eyes. Laying down beneath you was your best friend, making your face turn beet red at the unexpected physical contact. Sure, you were best friends, but you couldn’t deny that he was hot.
“Sorry, I just added more insult to injury, I’ll get off of you right now-” You begin to profusely apologize, and Seokmin can only continue to smile at you. As you attempt to get up again, he softly wraps his hands around your legs, making you stay down. He slowly sits up, making you straddle his lap, and you can’t help but be speechless since you were laughing at his clumsiness just moments ago. You continued to stare at each other as the world around you began to vanish.
An old lady had approached you, unknown to the two of you in your own world. “There are children here!” She grabs her cane and hits you both against your backs, scowling at your public obscenity.
You pry yourself from his grip, and both stand up to say sorry to the older lady, blushing at what just happened. She shakes her hand up in defeat, and you both head over to Seokmin’s car, unable to face each other. After closing his car door and pouring him some hot cocoa from the thermos, you shyly offer the cup to him.
“As an apology for mistaking my clone for an alien?” You smile softly, finally looking up at him.
He grabs the cup, blurting, “I like you,” at a louder volume than he expected.
“Well, I figured out that much after you acted the way you did when I fell, Min.” You break your eye contact with him, still unable to process how the day took a turn.
“I know it might take some time, but-”
“I love you, silly.” You reply, still unable to meet his eyes.
“You do?” He asks, still unsure if this was all a dream. You nod, confirming his feelings were reciprocated.
“Okay, in that case, I love you too! I just said I like you as a way to softball it, but, god, I love you so much Y/N.”
“More than this peppermint hot cocoa?” You smirk, relieved that he felt the same you had for years.
“Oh,” He inhales deeply, pretending to be in deep thought, “well that’s debatable.”
“Shut up, idiot.” You lightly hit his arm, before taking another swig of your hot cocoa.
“Make me.” He has a mischievous grin on his face, challenging you to do just that. You knew that this tradition would be able to occur every year, and the thought of that excited you. He was your home, and as the saying goes, there’s snow place like home.
