Jun 25
another day another dokey
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another day another dokey
where the hell is my husband?! ᯓᡣ𐭩 lsm
pairing: coworker! lee seokmin x f!reader
wc: 7.9k
synopsis: your coworker was extremely oblivious. he was literal husband material, bringing you coffee every morning, walking you to your car in the rain simply because that’s who he was as a person. you made every attempt to show how downbad you were for him, yet he thought you were his adorable coworker whom he hung out with. you needed this man to wife you up immediately and you wouldn’t stop until he finally took a hint.
tags: office!au, coworker! au, fem reader, fluff, sexual implications, alcohol consumption, seokmin is very oblivious, seokmin is a sweetie, reader is a bit of a gooner, downbad reader, smut mdni!! , protected sex (yay), face sitting, oral (f), riding, subby whiny seokmin 🤓, dom! reader, dk nose.., overstimulation, mentions of driving under the influence
first part of the svt record store series : a song based series for ot13.
notes: happy new year everyone! the first product of the series is here! seokmin we yearn for you… anyways hope u guys enjoy! playlist in rotation is perfectly curated for every fic it enhances the experience (trust bro..) thank you to @orbitondgtl for beta reading ur the best!
now in rotation: where is my husband- raye | the boy is mine remix - ariana grande, brandy, monica | man i need - olivia dean | stereo driver - q | multiply - woodz | inferno - jmsn |ride - lolo zouaï | just like that - snoh aalegra | toro - remi wolf |
dividers by @cafekitsune!
Lee Seokmin had no idea how frustrating he was to your existence.
He was the epitome of work husband. Your cubbie mate had the habit of bringing you a fresh pastry from the small shop near the office every morning accompanied with a cup of iced coffee, just how you liked it. How he learned your order was something you still questioned, but you appreciated the motion.
Seokmin was a fan favorite on the fifth floor of your marketing team. Every morning, he greeted whoever he walked past with that killer smile of his, the singles of the office eyeing him carefully. You heard the whispers from your coworkers; everyone wanted Seokmin. Your coworker Dohyun had a smug look on his face, already plotting how to catch his attention. Something about bending over the printer and acting like he needed help.
You couldn't help but snort at his stupid plan over lunch at your favorite place nearby, chatting with your other colleague and friend Meera.
"Listen, I don't know if that man is just straight or there's a little sugar in the tank but I've got to find out if I can change him."
You and Meera laugh. Dohyun was never short of confidence.
"Dohyun, you can't just derail her plans to make him her work hubby!" Meera exclaimed, your number one supporter of your delusions.
"Yeah? How's your eye contact-ulationship going so far?"
You roll your eyes hard as Meera sputters a laugh next to you.
"I'll have you know he brings me, only me, coffee every morning. Who else in the office does he do that for?" You glare, daring him to say anything back as he shrugs, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Oh okay, that's what I thought."
You could say you were delusional but why else would Seokmin go out of his way to bring you treats on the daily?
That very morning he strolled up to your desk, his signature smile radiating as he gently shook the bag filled with your breakfast.
"Good morning!" He beamed at you, placing the bag and iced macchiato down on your desk. You smiled back at him, his brown eyes glowing brightly.
"Morning Min, how's your morning going?" You spoke sweetly, your voice going up an octave intentionally.
"Well considering it's only 8am, it's been good so far! The bakery started rolling out their spring lineup today!" He pointed towards the bag as you listened intently. Anyone who walked past and looked at you could see how you hung onto every word coming from his mouth.
"I got you a strawberry cherry blossom pastry, it's to die for."
"Thank you honey, you're too sweet!" You cooed, the nickname unaffecting him and he just grinned.
"Any time! I'll bring more tomorrow but I have a meeting in 10, I'll catch you later!"
You watched him walk off towards the meeting rooms with a sigh.
Were you really gonna have to start calling him baby to get it through his head?
After bickering with Dohyun about whether to carry out his ridiculous plan or not, the three of you finished up your lunch and headed back to work.
You spent the rest of your work day responding to emails and making adjustments to the weekly spreadsheets. You catch a glimpse of Seokmin coming back to his cubicle around mid day. Keeping your eyes trained to him so he felt your gaze, he makes eye contact and offers a small smile as he sits down with a sigh.
"Day full of meetings huh?" You poke your head over the divider, looking down at Seokmin with his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose. He usually didn't make his stress known but you knew he was overloaded with a new product campaign at the moment. Your brain churned with an idea, fighting to keep the smirk off your face as you cooked up a plan.
"Yeah.. just trying to touch things up before the roll out date. This might be the project that gets me a promotion finally." He gazes back at you. You swore you would get lost in his eyes before you cleared your throat, ready to put your plan in motion.
"That's great Seokmin! I mean, considering how important this promotion is for you is there anything I can do to help?"
"Actually.. I might take up your offer!" His head tilts as you could physically see him thinking. "Another set of eyes could help with anything I would be missing."
You damn near jumped for joy.
"Wonderful! How can I be of assistance?" You step out your cubbie, leaning against the wall dividing the two spaces. His eyes fall upon your legs briefly before turning back to his computer, going over the specifics of his design.
You come close to him, leaning over as you rest your elbows on his desk, claiming you needed to see better. You were so close you knew he could smell your perfume and the fresh scent of your hair products.
"Hmm.. What if we sharpen this sentence up a bit, change the background color and add another divider?" You toss a glance back at him, his eyes lingering across your face momentarily before he mulls over your words.
"I trust your vision!" He smiles, hands moving quick over the keyboard to add changes.
You stand up and place a hand along the back of his chair, awfully close to him. If you did this with anyone else, they could've picked up on your body language. This was Seokmin however, the man probably needed a flashing neon light saying ’I like you please let me sit on your face!!!!’ to get the clue.
You gave him pointers as the work day came to an end, moving back to your own cubbie to shut down your computer and start packing up.
"Do you have any plans later?" You hear your name as Seokmin is standing across from you, his glasses back on again as he blinks, waiting for your response.
You feel like your moment has finally come. Your months of flirting has come to fruition and he was asking you on a date finally.
"N-No!" Your voice coming out higher pitched than you wanted. "I don't have anything going on today." He nods, running a hand through his dark hair.
"Nice! Let's go grab some dinner! As a thank you for helping with my project." He zips up his work bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he looks down at you, your jaw falling slack.
"What? Did I spill coffee on my sweater?" He looks down frantically searching the navy pullover. You regain your composure and bump your hip against his, grabbing him and directing him towards the elevators.
"No cutie, I wasn't expecting you to ask me out though." You take a bolder approach, waiting for the doors to slide open.
"Ah! Well, It's more so a thank you for being such a good friend. I'll treat you!"
You were going to bash your head into a fucking wall. The elevator doors can close around your head at this point.
Good friend? Was he friendzoning you? Right…
Dinner with Seokmin was at a Thai restaurant, one of the best in the area. You ordered drunken noodles and he ordered pad thai to split both dishes amongst yourselves. You rambled about nonsense at work, how his meetings went, and the plans you were making to hang out that weekend with friends.
Never missing an opportunity to compliment him or flirt, he would just smile and say thank you, or "You're so sweet!", softly saying your name with a smile.
You honestly were contemplating straight up telling him you wanted to fuck him. His puppy eyes made it hard to pay attention to half of what he was saying, your mind wandering off into a dangerous place often.
"Earth to Y/N? Did you hear what I said?" He snickered at you as you snapped back to reality.
"No Min, I'm sorry. Can you repeat?"
He continued to giggle, shaking his head with a quick bite of noodle. "I said," He finished chewing, a small smile forming. "What time did you want to meet us on Friday?"
"Oh! I'll probably get there around eight."
He nodded, reaching over with a napkin to wipe the side of your mouth. You felt your body freeze up, his gaze fixated on your lip and the light brush of his fingertips along your face had you feeling faint.
You needed to get a grip and stop acting like a Victorian woman.
"Okay eight sounds perfect!" He continued like he didn't just cause your brain to short circuit, pulling his arm back and continuing to slurp his noodles.
There was no way he was this oblivious. You thought he was putting up a front, but Seokmin genuinely was missing all the flags. You needed to step your game up and immediately.
The next day at work you were bent down in the copier room, the printer acting up right as you needed important documents for your meeting in an hour.
"Fuck me, why does this always happen to me." You mumble, banging on the sides frustrated. Bending over you made sure the printer actually was plugged in— Soonyoung had unplugged it one too many times lately; when you heard someone huff a laugh behind you.
"Do you need help?"
You throw a glance over your shoulder to see Seokmin with his eyebrows up in his hairline, an enormous grin on his face.
Your face suddenly felt hot as you realized you quite literally were bent over the printer, ass poking up in your pencil skirt.
Dohyun was gonna be so pissed when you told him you unintentionally stole his idea.
"I- No I'm fine, the printer is just fucking with me." You straighten up with a huff of frustration. Seokmin pokes your side, his finger leaving a searing heat as he moves to press random buttons on the printer. Moments later, the familiar sound of papers coming out filled the room, Seokmin nodding to himself proudly.
"Fixed it, just had to do some maintenance real quick."
You felt dumb now, anybody could've pressed some buttons and fixed that easily.
"Thanks Min.." You felt sheepish for once, as he clicked his teeth, reassuring you most people didnt know how to work this printer here.
"Sorry you had to see me bent over the printer like that." You joke, noticing the way his eyes widened half a fraction as he waved his hands frantically.
"No, no it's okay! I didn't even think about that-" His eyes shifted down before he cleared his throat, mumbling something about needing to check his spreadsheet before he bid you farewell.
You were going to take that as a victory, the slight acknowledgment to your compromising position and how flustered he got.
Seokmin - 0. You - 1 .
Thursday morning you left a string of post it notes on his desk, getting in a bit earlier than Seokmin that morning.
'Are you http? Cus without you I am ://'
'I know you're busy, but please add me to your list of things to do.'
You were being a complete corn ball, facepalming as that was the best your brain could come up with running on four hours of sleep at 7:50am. You knew it would make him at least laugh, Seokmin loved corny shit.
When the object of your affections walked in throwing 'good mornings' left and right, you fought the smile off your lips.
"Good morning!" He said your name sweetly, the usual coffee and treat in his hand as you took them with a wide grin.
His attention was suddenly on his desk as he sat his own drink down, a confused look on his face.
"I know you're busy.." You heard him mumble out loud, eyes scanning the post its. A faint blush spread across his face as he laughed, amused at the cheesy pick up lines. That man had proofread your handwritten documents multiple times, you knew he would recognize your handwriting in a heartbeat.
"Did you see who left these? God this is hilarious!"
You felt your eye twitch, opting to take a slow sip of your coffee and shrug at Seokmin instead of crashing out.
"You don't recognize the handwritting?" You full send, you didn't want to remain hidden any longer.
"Hmm not really? Maybe it came from Minji on the sixth floor?"
Lee Seokmin was gonna cause you to rip your hair out and he had zero idea.
Friday rolled around quicker than you expected, the hectic work week coming to an end as the office slowly started getting emptier before 5pm hit.
You finished typing up your last email of the week when a presence appeared behind you. Seokmin was standing behind your chair— startling you badly, your knee slammed up against your desk with a wince.
"Sorry! Didn't mean to startle you. Just wanted to say I can't wait to see you later! We need some time to unwind!" You swirl your chair around and nearly choke at the sight of him. His white button up was rolled a quarter of a way up, veiny forearms on full display. His black frames sat heavy on his face, his hair ruffled and fluffy like the wind had it's time with him earlier.
You gulp, nodding frantically as your mind traveled to other places it had no business going right now.
"Right! Me too, I need to get dressed up and have a drink." You turn back to your computer, working on the last bit of your message. If you didn't get out of his face you were going to fucking bite his arm.
"You have emails to finish still?" The massive arms in question were suddenly resting against your chair, the other on your desk as he scanned your screen from behind you. You could hear his soft breaths near your ear and you wanted nothing more than to die. He had to be genuinely taunting you at this point.
"Uh- I- Uh just this one. Almost finished now!" You choke out, his presence backing up finally allowing you to let out a breath. He hums in acknowledgment as he goes to the opposite wall, shutting down his own computer and packing up.
"Hopefully it won't take too long. I'll see you in a little bit yeah?" He beams, waving before taking off towards the elevator. Joshua, the lead of the digital marketing team, throws an arm around Seokmin sharing his excitement for later as they disappear into the elevator.
You hit send on the email, closing your eyes briefly as the image of Seokmin fills your vision. He was driving you up a wall and you didn't know how much longer you could hold out before doing something heinous.
You get home and eat a quick bite, texting Meera you'll be ready in an hour. You fix your makeup and hair, not wanting to do too much but still look good. You opt for jeans that hug your body just right, a plain black top that showed just the right amount of cleavage and a pair of kitten heels. You're finishing your lip combo when you hear a horn honk outside, signaling Meera was waiting. You grab your purse and keys, locking up and meeting your friend at her car.
"Bitch you look hot! Your work husband is gonna be foaming at the mouth when he sees you!"
You giggle as you slide in her passenger, heading towards the bar your group planned to meet up at.
"Girl whatever, he hasn't reciprocated any of my advances, its getting frustrating. He's genuinely missing every one of my cues!" You throw your head back against the headrest, exasperated.
"At this point… you just gotta tell him how you feel." She glances at you as you side eye her like she was crazy.
"I'm pretty sure somebody confesses their feelings to him every other day and he thinks they're joking, being friendly, or he'll kindly reject them. I won't be different than any of the other people fawning over him." You huff, Seokmin being too attractive and too nice for his own good.
"Okay but he actually talks to you. Those other girls— actually not just girls but you know. They don't get a free coffee from him everyday. Nor does he share his umbrella with them to walk to their car. He doesn't take anyone else out for dinner in the office that isn't his friend group."
"What if I'm just one of the homies to him?" You pout, playing with the rip on your jeans as Meera sighs next to you.
"You'll never find out if you don't shoot your shot. No more subliminal messages and little notes. Talk your shit and tell him you want him. If he doesn't feel that way then you know you're just a homie. Otherwise get in that man's pants cus if it was me-"
"Please focus on the road." You laugh, cutting her off before she got too unhinged. You mull over her words though, deciding you need a little liquid courage to execute your plan.
You pull up to the bar and mentally prepare for the amount of alcohol you know Mingyu will try to force down your body. You and Meera walk in, scanning the bar for your coworkers before you hear loud laughter. You find Chan, Mingyu, Soonyoung, Joshua and Seokmin seated at a big table, orders of fries and wings along the table with bottles of soju and beer.
"Ah Meer Meer! Y/N!" Soonyoung waves, cheeks already flushed from the alcohol as you greet everyone.
"You look hot as fuck!" Chan winks at you and you roll your eyes at him. You feel a gaze burn into you, turning to see Seokmin eyeing you intensely, a faint smile on his lips. A chill runs through you as you smile at him, sitting across from him, Mingyu to your left and Meera on your right.
"Glad you made it out," he smiles softly at you, his gaze holding a weight behind it you hadn't noticed before.
"Perfect timing too! You two take a shot!" Mingyu pushes two glasses towards you and Meera, the two of you sharing a look before clinking glasses and throwing the shot back.
"Got peach just for you, I know you're a bit of a pussy-" you flip Chan off across the table as he busts out in laughter, warmth spreading in your chest from the single shot.
"Whatever, at least I'm drinking."
"I won't be having much else, I gotta drive." Meera states, followed by boo's from Joshua and Soonyoung.
The night ends up being chaotic, Soonyoung making you get up and dance with him, everyone drunk off their ass laughing and being loud. Meera calls it an early night, saying goodbye to you.
"You sure you don't want to just leave now with me?" She asks as you both wash your hands in the bathroom.
"I wanna stay a little longer honestly.." Your eyes meet in the mirror as her eyebrow shoots up, smug look spreading.
"Hoping to score a certain somebody later?" You giggle as your tipsy thoughts take over.
"Yeahhhhh."
She laughs at your tone. "If anything I'll get an uber later. Or force Mingyu to take me home."
"Girl he is not okay to drive, that whole group will be blacked out in an uber later." You laugh, wondering why Mingyu even brought his car knowing how he drinks.
"Get home safe please! Text me when you're back home!" You wave Meera off, the boys giving loud protests as she leaves.
You drink a little more with them, toeing the line between tipsy and drunk, resting your head on Mingyu's shoulder as you listen to Chan's drunken rant over the IT team at work.
"Bro, Wonwoo won't ever help me. He swears he's my friend but every time I have a problem with my computer he stares at me like I just killed his six kids." You laugh at Chan, his ridiculousness amplified now that he was drunk.
You glance at Seokmin, a lazy smile on his face as his eyes land on yours, holding your gaze for a long moment. He breaks away first, turning down towards his water. He stopped drinking a few hours ago, opting to stick with water as he was sobered up already.
"Minnie?" You call for him, his eyes wide as he looks at you.
"Yes?"
"Could you drop me off when you're ready to go please? I'll give you gas money." You offer with a pout, pleading with the beautiful man in front of you. He waves his hand, dismissing the gas money but promising to take you home.
The bar was starting to quiet down, your group getting ready to head out as Seokmin helped you get up, the others already waiting on their ubers and taxis. You bid your goodnight to your friends and colleagues — Mingyu promising you next time you'll have no flavored soju, wanting you to suffer.
Seokmin helps you out to his car, your knees wobbling a bit in your heels as you lean into his warm embrace. His cologne was faint, wafting down to your nose and making you feel dizzy. You wanted him so bad and knew the liquid coursing through you would affect your reactions.
He sits you in the passenger seat, closing the door and running around to start up the car. You glance at him, eyes heavy from the alcohol and fatigue of the day.
"You okay?" You hear your name and nod, your gaze unwaving from his. He feels shy under your glare, turning away to start the car and head down the road towards your house. The lull of the car rocks you to sleep, your eyes not opening again until Seokmin is shaking you awake gently in front of your complex. You hum, stretching and grabbing your bag when he turns the car off.
"Let me make sure you get in okay." He comes around and opens your door, helping you out. You weren't as drunk as he probably thought you were but you enjoyed being taken care of by him. You reached your apartment, digging through your purse for your keys as Seokmin has a hand around your waist to steady you; your heels in his other hand. You had made it to the hallway outside your apartment before having to yank them off your aching feet.
The thoughts in the back of your head run rampant, wondering if this would be how Seokmin took care of you as your boyfriend. You unlock your door and stumble in, Seokmin following closely behind.
"It's nice in here, very comfy, very.. you."
You lean against your door as you stare at him, Seokmin struggling to keep eye contact under your intense gaze.
"Thanks Minnie," You throw your purse on the floor, wandering to the couch and flopping down. He follows you asking if you'd like to just sleep on your couch tonight. You shrug and tell him you want to get out of your jeans. His eyes get wide as saucers, stammering as he questions where to get a change of pants.
"The bottom left drawer of my dresser.. a pair of shorts please." You mumble, feeling sleepy as he disappears for a second, coming back with your sleep shorts.
"Uh.. Um…So you can get out of them on your own right?" You crack an eye open and nod. Having no shame, you unbutton your jeans, beginning to tug them down.
His eyes nearly fall out his head as he whips his head around to give you privacy. In the darkness you couldn't see how deep red his cheeks were.
"Okay.. I'm good."
He takes a second to turn around, cheeks still burning as he takes in the sight of you spread out, legs on full display. His stomach flips in a way he knows he shouldn't think about his friend in.
He places a blanket over you, headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of water for the morning.
"Seokmin."
He looks down at you as your eyes glow back at him, stare intense.
"Yes?" His voice wobbles a bit, uncertain where you may go in your intoxicated state.
"Why do you ignore my advances?" You pout at him, catching him off guard suddenly.
"Wha-What are you talking about?"
"I like you. A lot. And I have been very forward about it," He blinks looking like a deer in headlights as you continue on, tired of holding your thoughts back.
"The person who left the notes? That was me. I like you a lot like… I want you so bad fuck.. you and that damn nose of yours," He tilts his head at this, unsure of what you mean by his nose.
"My- My nose?"
"Shhh.. If you know you know. Anyways is it because you don't like me? You can tell me. It'll be easier for me to get over you then." He swallows hard at your revelation, heart racing as he had no idea you were into him.
"I think this is a conversation we should revisit when you're not intoxicated." He smiles softly at you as you whine, reaching for him. He keeps his distance, only allowing you to hold his hand.
"Fine, but don't go ghost on me."
"I promise not to." He kisses your forehead before he leaves you for the night, a deluded mess on your couch.
You knew your head would be pounding in the morning and you'd regret the words that flowed out your mouth.
The weekend went by without a word from Seokmin regarding your drunken confession. A confession you unfortunately remembered the next morning, turning to scream into your pillow when the memory resurfaced. He had texted you the next day asking if your head was okay and that he'll see you Monday. Not a word about you mentioning his nose. Perfect.
Walking into the office on Monday felt like impending doom, checking every corner for a sign of Seokmin. For the first time ever you wished your desk was nowhere near him. You were trying to make yourself busy by looking over your weekend emails when Seokmin appears in front of you, shy smile upon his face. In his hands your typical macchiato and an apple fritter.
"Thank you Min." You mumble, barely able to look at him as he nodded back, quietly shuffling to his desk.
The work day seemed to go by insufferably slow, the usual chattiness between the two of you was nonexistent today. The only sounds heard were the quiet clacks of keyboards, your insides feeling queasy all day.
5pm couldn't come sooner. You practically throw your items into your bag ready to leave like a bat out of hell when Seokmin peeks his head over the cubicle, making you jump.
"Hey.. Dinner at my place tonight?" His eyes plead, big and glossy like it would kill him if you said no.
"Yeah sure um, what time?" You swallow back the anxious thoughts while Seokmin scratches his head in thought.
"Mmm.. how about 7?" You agree and head out quickly, stilettos clicking against the tile feeling his gaze lingering on your back.
You rush home, throwing clothes out your closet as you plan what to wear frantically.
"Just be casual, he's probably going to bring up the conversation when you were drunk. I mean who knows where that'll go-" Meera spoke through the speaker of your phone as you made a rampage in your room.
"Should I shave every inch of my body? I shaved like 5 days ago..."
"A real man is gonna eat it regardless." You snort at her comment, she was like the little devil on your shoulder at times.
"Okay thanks babe. I'll talk to you later!" She bids you good luck as you rush to freshen up and head out to not be late for your 7pm dinner.
You pull up to Seokmin's complex, having to be buzzed in as you head up to the third floor. Your anxiety spiked as you shoot him a text that you're outside. You knock on his door and you're greeted with the sight of Seokmin, in a plain white tee and his black slacks from work, a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder.
"Welcome, come in!" His tone is as gentle as the smile on his face, stepping back to allow you into his home. His place was modern and sleek which you admired as you kicked your shoes off. You follow him into the kitchen, the aroma of his dish filling your nose just in time for your stomach to growl.
"Hungry?" He teases, your face getting hot as he pulls out two bowls. He made a delicious looking carbonara pasta with slices of pork belly that made your mouth water.
"Jeez Seokmin, this looks insane." You thank him as he hands you a bowl, two glasses of red wine already on the kitchen island where his barstools were situated. You sat down on one, Seokmin dragging another to be directly across from you as you ate.
You had small talk as the two of you ate, a tension in the air as you danced around the question you were sure was coming.
"Can I ask you something?" Seokmin swirled his glass, an anxious air around him.
"What's up?" You took a slow sip of your wine, stomach turning in anticipation. He took a second to formulate his thoughts, his expression conflicted as his mouth opened to speak before closing it briefly.
"Do you remember anything from Friday night? After we left the bar?"
You fought the smile off your face.
Of course you remember everything, you just hoped he wouldn't beat around the bush.
You hum an acknowledgement, nodding your head. A soft 'ah,' as he watched you carefully.
"So.. Does that mean you remember what you said to me on the couch?"
"What, that I liked you? Yeah, took a little alcohol to admit it but I meant every word."
His eyes shifted a million miles a second.
"You said let's revisit when I wasn't intoxicated so.. here we are." You shrug and take another sip waiting for his response.
"I- Okay," He swallows, adam's apple bobbing. "You said I didn't pick up on your advances. What did you mean by that?" Poor sweet, clueless Seokmin.
"The amount of flirting I did? The sweet nicknames, casual touches. The home cooked meals, the post its." Recognition flashes as he recalls you sharing that in your inebriated state. "I was sure you would pick up on something but my god you wouldn't know I wanted you unless I spelled it out for you. Which took this long to get here."
He took a deep breath, brows going up in shock. He thought he was mentally prepared for this conversation, coaching himself all weekend with the help of Mingyu, yet he felt stuck. The words he planned falling short on his tongue.
"I… I thought you were just being nice," he whispers your name, eyes casted downward. "I can't tell when people actually like me it's hard to pick up on. I just am shocked you have feelings for me too.."
You damn near dropped his fancy wine glass on the floor.
Were you getting hard of hearing or did Seokmin say he had feelings for you?
"Wait what? What do you mean 'feelings for me too.' You liked me all this time Seokmin?" Your eyes were wide as he stared back, eyes just as wide like a deer in headlights.
"Um.. Yes?" He scratched his head, a crooked smile on his face. "I didn't think I had a chance-" Your jaw goes slack. You have to set this glass down before you really shatter it.
"Jesus Minnie, I've been trying to give you hints for the past year!" You laugh, wondering how he missed your signs if he had feelings of his own.
"Oh no.. I feel so stupid now!" He groans, hiding his face in his hands. You reach over and touch his arm gently, his eyes peeking through his fingers.
"No love, you're just a little oblivious. It's kinda cute." You coo, tilting your head at Seokmin still taking refuge behind his hands. You pull them away from his face and slide your fingers between his, your thumb starting to rub slow circles into his skin.
"So what does this mean for us..?" He trails off, uncertainty laced in his tone. You remember him mentioning only being in one long term relationship prior, and no more than two or three hookups. He was anxious as to where things could go between you.
"Well you've been my work husband in my head for the past year so maybe let's make that a reality?" You joke, a cheerful laugh coming from Seokmin as he grins at you. He loved your boldness.
"Okay let's start slow.." You nod in agreement, not wanting to scare him off with your long running delusions.
"We're about to be the hottest couple in the workplace- oh my god I can't wait to see the look on Minji's face when she finds out!" You chew on your lip unable to contain your excitement. The most coveted man in your building had the hots for you, and only you.
"Also another thing you said… what were you saying about my nose?" The comment was engraved in his mind, not understanding what you meant at all.
A wicked smile spreads on your face as he becomes more confused.
"Oh babe, your nose is very rideable. Like.. I want to sit on it." You had zero shame in your game.
His face was comedic, mouth gaping wide like a fish as a blush rose across his cheeks.
"Wow that's… I have no words." He chuckles, shaking his head.
"I mean, if that's what you want.. let's try it." His gaze levels yours, a hint of timidity behind it— but a newfound fire burned in his brown eyes. A heat pooled in your lower body, the sudden shift in the room electrifying.
"Don't say it if you don't mean it.." You mumble, a last ditch effort to keep from losing all your sanity.
"Let's see if the hype is worth it hmm?" He smiles, running a finger along his nose playfully wiggling his brows as you laugh. "Can I kiss you?" He asks shyly.
"You don't even have to ask." You get up and round the counter, pulling him to his feet as you bring his lips down to your own.
He walks you to the counter directly behind you, your lips moving in tandem softly. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing harder to deepen the kiss. His built form presses against yours, hands strong on your hips. The intensity of your kiss made you groan against his lips.
"Minnie, I need you," You pull away and take in his form— lips pink and puffy, eyes glossy as he nods frantically.
"Tell me what you need," He leans down, pressing a fluttering kiss to your neck, leaving a trail downward. You sigh as your eyes flutter shut, your hand trailing down his chest towards the area you wanted attention from. Your hand brushes against his hardening length, a quiet whine pulled from him from the contact.
"Bed, now." You demand, pulling his hand in the direction of his room you vaguely remembered from a previous hangout.
You push him down onto the bouncy mattress, making a show of sliding your shirt over your head. Seokmin felt like he was dreaming. He had to be dreaming, you were unreal. You climbed on top of him, situating yourself in his lap before leaning down to kiss him roughly again. His pants felt awfully tight, the warmth of your clothed cunt against his cock was driving him insane.
"Baby," he whined under you. "Can you take these off please?" He tugged on your stretch pants, getting eager as he rubbed against you, his jaw slack. You grind down on him a few more times before sliding off, taking your sweet time to slide your pants and underwear down. You bend over, your glossy pussy directly in his line of vision as he moans at the sight. You were grinning like a mad woman knowing the effect you had on him already. He slides further back up the bed towards the headboard, motioning for you to join him.
You crawl on top of him, making your way towards his face. His hands find the backs of your thighs and yanks you over his mouth with a yelp. You're hovering over him, not setting your weight on his face as you feel his breaths hot against your center.
"Minnie, don't let me crush you okay?" You glance down at him, his eyes wide and glowing when peeking up at you.
"Don't worry, if I go I would have died a noble death."
You laugh at his comment, caught off guard by him pulling your cunt down to his mouth prodding the hole with his tongue. He licks a long strip along your core, the bridge of his nose bumping against your clit making you throw your head back in overwhelming pleasure.
He was humming below you, clearly enjoying himself, as he fucked his tongue in and out of your hole, his nose hitting against your clit in a way that had your legs trembling around his head.
"Minnie you're doing so good," You purr, one hand gripping his dark hair tightly while the other holds the headboard for support.
He speaks below you, muffled in your cunt. You lift up a bit asking him to repeat as he gulps, taking in shaky breaths.
"I said, you can use me. Go ahead and ride my face."
You wondered how many kittens you saved in your past life. The one thing you desired most, always joking with Meera about was actually about to happen.
"If you need to tap out, pat my leg four times okay?" You couldn't see his mouth but you knew he was smiling the way his eyes crinkled, giving a quick nod and a quiet okay.
You felt his thick arms wrap around your legs, dragging you back onto his tongue. Lapping at your clit leaving you shaking before he alternated between your hole and clit. Your hips moving as you grinded harder into him, quiet moans from Seokmin below you.
You started to pick up your rhythm, moaning loudly as he pushed you closer to your climax, sucking on your clit hard.
If he couldn't breathe he didn't make any effort to show, hums and moans vibrating into your pussy as you rode his face, nose bumping against you addictively.
"Minnie I'm-" You choke, a particular swirl of his tongue pushing you over the edge as you cum on his face hard. Your body shakes while you grind into his mouth, riding out the waves of your release.
He continues to lap up your cunt, the aftershocks of your orgasm leaving you trembling as you try to pull away. His strong arms stayed around you as he continued to fuck your hole with his tongue. You were moaning and shaking hard from overstimulation before a yank on his hair had him unclasping his arms from you.
"Holy shit Seokmin that was crazy." You whine, sliding off his face down his body to rest around his hips. Your dripping pussy was leaking onto his slacks, his cock throbbing from how hard he was.
He wipes his shiny mouth and nose with a grin, like he just had the meal of his life. The carbonara earlier had no comparison to you.
"That was so fun, please ride my face again." He pouted causing you to laugh. Poor Seokmin was pussy drunk, a single taste leaving him with a desire for more.
"Next time baby. Right now I need you in me." Your hands slide down his toned chest, reaching behind you to palm him through his pants with a long groan from him. You unbutton his pants and slowly drag them off Seokmin, his cock finally free and dripping from neglect.
"Condom?" You ask as he reaches over to his nightstand, blindly digging until he found a foil wrapper. You take it out his hands, ripping it open frantically. He watched with hooded eyes, chest heaving as you placed a kiss on the head of his cock. He jerked, a low whine escaping from the contact.
"Aww so needy baby. I got you my love." You coo, running a finger along his head to collect the beads of precum there. You jerk him a few times, the quick strokes making Seokmin moan loudly, bucking his hips into your hand.
You clench around nothing, eager for him as you roll the condom onto his cock.
"You were so good for me Minnie, I'm gonna reward you now."
"Please, please I need it so bad!" He whines, eyes bright as he begs. You slide back up, lining yourself up with his cock as you slowly sink down. His head falls back to the pillow in pleasure while you take him with ease. You moan once you bottom out, his aching cock twitching inside.
"You feel so.. so good.. oh!" He chokes as you swirl your hips, getting him riled up before you begin bouncing on his dick. He's a babbling mess under you while you ride him, bouncing roughly while his hands fist the sheets next to him.
His eyes were screwed shut, the pleasure wracking him in waves as you gripped him tightly, the sound of your pussy taking him filling the room.
You grab his hands, sliding them up to your breasts as Seokmin's brain felt like it was fried. He was so overwhelmed with the feel of your cunt sucking him in he couldn't even think straight. He needed a little directing as he was in a completely fucked out state. He gave a rough squeeze, pinching your sensitive nipples as you clench on him, head thrown back while you glide up and down his length.
"Please keep touching me Seokmin." You moan, feeling his hands slide to your ass and squeezing the flesh there. His mouth closes around your breast, sucking on the bud there.
You were putting in the work, your knees aching and thighs burning but you had a mission; a mission to absolutely ruin Seokmin.
His hips started meeting yours with every thrust, a whiney moan leaving him each time. His eyes kept fluttering shut as he fought from cumming too quick.
"Look at me baby." You slide your hands up his chest as he pries his eyes open, mouth hanging open at the sight of you.
"I'm- I-I'm so close," he whines your name, hands bruising around your waist as he helps guide you down his cock. You purposely squeeze around him knowing he was about to come, your hand drifting down to your clit to reach your peak as well.
His cock twitches inside of you as you swirl your fingers on your sensitive clit, your breasts bouncing in his face. He groans, chanting your name over and over until his eyes rolled back, his orgasm hitting him hard. He moans, hips jerking up as you milk him, your pace quickening as your own orgasm approaches.
"Minnie, I'm gonna cum now." You glance down at his dazed face, his hands on your ass as he pushes through his own overstimulation, fucking up into you to get your release.
You throw your head back as your orgasm hits making you see stars, pussy spasming while Seokmin shakes below you. You collapse into his chest, both of your breaths heavy and staggered as he drew circles along your back.
"You okay Minnie?" You ask, his flesh burning hot as he meets your gaze. His eyes were teary but the grin on his lips was too big.
"You're absolutely insane. I think I stopped breathing and it's your fault."
You giggle at him, slowly sliding off his softening dick. He peels the condom off and gets up to throw it away. You admire his back view before he disappears into his bathroom, returning to clean you up.
He takes his time, planting feathery kisses along your body as you sigh, a calm smile on your lips as he reaches your lips and planting a soft kiss there.
He puts his boxers back on and you slip his shirt on after running to go pee. His strong arms were around you now as he spooned you comfortably.
"I really don't wanna go to work now. Can we just say we're sick and stay here all day?" You groan, Seokmin chuckling as he buried his face in the crook of your neck behind you.
"Mmm I wish... it would be suspicious if we're both sick no?"
"I couldn't give a fuck, let the whole floor know!" You huff, Seokmin tickled by your antics.
"I'm sure it won't take anyone long to notice we're together now." You hum in acknowledgment, knowing how watchful everyone on your floor was of Seokmin.
"Good, those bitches are like vultures. Make out with me in the printer room maybe that'll get them to back off." He laughs, never having a dull moment with you.
"We're so getting fired if I followed through with your ideas."
"Whatever man, just know Dohyun was gonna bend over the printer to get your attention." He laughs comedically behind you, whole body shaking against your back at the revelation.
"No way! Is that why I caught you bent over it like that?"
"Um no… that actually was me just being stupid..."
"Dohyun would be so mad if he knew you spoiled his plans."
"Oh hush!"
The next day at work you had a pep in your step, ready to bare your teeth like a dog at anyone who approached Seokmin. You were a little territorial…
"Good morning baby."
You glance up from your spreedsheets from hell to see Seokmin beaming at you, the usual drink and breakfast in his hand.
"Good morning my love, please kill me before I blow up this computer." You groan, resting your head against your desk as he leans down, patting your shoulder.
"It's okay! I can help you with it in a moment." He puts your breakfast down and moves to set his own stuff down as you lift your head up, a big smile on your face.
"Really? If you fix this I will literally drag you to the bathroom and give you crazy sloppy head right now."
Your timing was awful as Mingyu walked past, his eyebrows shooting up as he looked between you two. Seokmin avoiding eye contact and turning beat red as you smirked, shrugging nonchalantly.
"Please no workplace sex. I don't want to report you two." He teases, shaking his head as he continues on.
You really had to work on your mouth now, Seokmin brought out the best (and horniest) side out of you and it was a matter of time before everyone would know.
Months of calling him your work husband lead to this moment, you could barely hold back from the watchful eyes on the fifth floor.
You hope Minji walks in on the two of you kissing one day.
taglist: @hopecutie @livmarauder @choco-scoups @cherrymayz @paradiseonthemoon @caratchronicles @mellowgyu
Playing House [Seokmin x reader]
synopsis: Going raw for the first time? DK doesn't stand a chance.
requested: AMANI IM BEGGING for breeding kink with any member of seventeen.
warnings: mdni, 18+, pwp, dubcon, unprotected, dirty talk, mating press, dk is down bad, so are you, dk big, dk strong, pussdrunk, multiple orgasm, threats/promises of impreg, breeding kink unlocked, dk crashes out, he talks you through it? yeah?, little descriptions of the idea of the reader being preg, etc.
wc: 1.2k+
[BE VERY AWARE, SMUT BELOW THE 'KEEP READING' TAG]
Lee Seokmin doesn't know he has a breeding kink until he pushes his cock inside you, raw, for the first time.
He visibly shudders, squeezing his eyes shut as he fails to take a full breath after. You're so warm, so wet, and taking all of him so deep inside that his mouth actually waters. And when he blinks his eyes open, it only gets worse for him. Harder, maybe would be the better word. His cock twitches, rubbing against your gummy walls, and your mouth parts in awe as he looks down at you.
You're so pretty underneath him.
You're lying on your back, staring up at him with glossy lips and starry eyes, and fuck, your walls are gripping him so tightly he doesn't want to leave.
But then you start squirming, giving him the signal to start moving, and he does. He would do anything for you - and you gasp just as much as you did when he bullied his way inside as you do when he pushes his hips back. He slides back until the tip of his thick cock remains inside your drooling cunt before he surges forward. The bed creaks, your pretty tits bounce, and the mushroom-shaped head of his cock kisses your cervix in greeting, making both of you groan in unison.
It's like a flip is switched for Dokyeom. His vision whitens, his cock twitches, splurting a few gooey wads of precum along your cervix, and he can only think about cumming inside. Filling you to the brim with his seed until you're round and it sticks. The image of you, a mess, dripping with him, makes a deep groan slip from the back of his throat, and he's hitching your leg higher onto his hip to press even deeper into your weeping cunt.
The pretty noises you make rise in pitch when he does, and Seokmin's lips curve up into a lovesick grin. "So pretty, you're so pretty." His thrusts grow in strength, just like his grip on your hips does. He jostles you, pulling you back every time his hips push you up on the bed, and his tongue licks his lips with a newfound hunger for more.
Sweat begins to line his forehead, the muscles in his back straining as he gives, and gives, and gives. You're making it harder for him to leave your pretty pussy, soaking him with your sweet slick as you chant his name like a prayer. Your nails claw into the bedsheet underneath you, trying to grip onto anything, something, until they dig into his back as he brings you closer to the edge.
Your stomach flexes, your thighs twitching with a pleasurable hum, and Dokyeom can't look away from where he's connected to you. Your sweet pussy is slobbering all over his cock, coating it in a shiny sheen that makes each thrust slippier, and effectively makes DK more pussydrunk after each snap of his hips. "You're makin' it harder for me to leave, Baby." He confesses with a gasp, his pupils blown, and his jaw clenching as you whimper back in response.
The familiar heat swirls low in your abdomen, the telltale sign that you're going to cum, and it's got Dokyeom sliding his hands down from your hips and under your thighs, pushing your plush legs up until your knees bend. This position makes your mouth drop, your tongue lewdly sticking out as the mating press keeps you trapped under his strong arms. The position is squeezing the air from your lungs as he carves a deeper path inside you, his cock dragging over all the sweet spots inside your sopping cunt like you were truly made just for him.
And maybe you are. Because the idea of you just like this, dumb on his cock, can only get better if he gets you pregnant. The way your body would change, your tummy soft and round, and your pretty tits full as he makes you feel so good - the idea of you glowing and carrying his child - fuck, his eyes roll and you're falling apart underneath him with a wail.
Your pussy pulses around his shaft, trying to milk him, and it's the cause of the final thread of his sanity snapping. His teeth grit, his fingers dig into the fat of your thighs as he fucks you through your orgasm, his hips pounding you into the mattress with one goal in mind. "Fuck, you're so perfect - I'm gonna cum inside your pretty pussy, okay? Need you to take - fuck - need you to take it all, okay?"
His eyes swirl, and the filthy squelches of your pussy taking his cock to the hilt resonate louder in the room as his words begin to slur.
"So good for me, you're gonna be so good for me." He huffs, and your pussy flutters at the praise, your orgasm subsiding only to be brought back up as he blabbers, drunk off the idea that he's going to breed you. "M'gonna cum and stuff you full of my seed, Baby. And then I'm gonna do it again, and again - you'll let me, right? Let me breed your sweet pussy until it takes." Your pussy squeezes him tighter, and a baffled, delirious laugh bubbles from his lips, his smile growing more lovesick as he slips a hand down your stomach and to where you two were connected between your thighs.
Your orgasm had made it wet and sticky, your sweet slick dripping down to his balls as he fucked you with determination. He finds your puffy clit with ease and begins thumbing your little nub to get you over the edge again. His thrusts were growing erratic, and he wanted you to cum one more time before he did.
"That's it, Baby. Need you to cum one more time for me, okay? M'gonna have you nice n' wet for when I cum inside."
And just like he wants, you cum, crying out so beautifully as your eyes roll back because of him. He coos happily, rubbing sloppy hearts into your clit and giving you praise until it is his turn to shiver in ecstasy.
When he cums, he cums a lot. Rope after rope of his gooey seed spills from his thick tip, and your pussy flutters in waves as he paints your gummy walls white with a low groan from his chest. His head drops as he feels his cock jerk, and his eyelashes flutter as he presses his hips flush against your ass, making sure not to waste a drop of his seed as he keeps you in a dirty mating press.
It feels like forever when he finally moves a couple of inches from your drooling cunt. Your puffy folds are swollen, gripping onto his cock even in the aftershocks, and Dokyeom can see his cum threatening to escape - so he pushes forward, earning another sweet moan from you. "Can't let it go to waste, Baby." He licks his lips and spreads your legs wider, giving you shallow thrusts as he fucks his cum back in deeper. "Think I need to fuck you again, gotta make sure it takes, mamas."
Any response you might have for him gets silenced when your glossy eyes blink up at him, only to see him still focusing on your pretty pussy stretched around his cock. It's then that you realize he's still hard, sliding in and out at a delicious slow rate that makes you feel everything. Every vein running down his shaft, every kiss his tip gives your soft cervix, and the slosh of his cum stirring inside you.
"Yeah, this pussy just needs to be bred, Baby. Tell me, do you want a boy or a girl?"
대박 - you made it to the end!
Tell me about it. (Silent Readers kill)
my bts mstrlst - svt mstrlst
Saltwater Sins || seungcheol, joshua, dk
pairings: dk x seungcheol x joshua x afab!reader
summary: years of almosts and not-quites finally ignite on a maldives trip with your three closest friends — where the only thing hotter than the sun is the tension you can’t ignore anymore.
wc: 4.7k
genre: pwp/ smut
smut warnings: nsfw (MDNI), p in v, multiple rounds, hair pulling, dirty talk, oral(f receiving), cumplay, creampie, anal fingering, overstimulation, double penetration, spanking, degradation, cunnilingus, anal, body worship, aftercare (lmk if i missed anything)
a/n: it’s officially my time to go to horny jail. half-naked svt will be the death of me, i swear. my brain hasn’t functioned properly since those pics dropped and not writing smut after seeing them would've been the real crime. huge thank you to cel (@mylovesstuffs) for matching my freak energy and beta-ing this. ilysm 💗
dividers by @strangergraphics
work is difficult. day and night of skimming through reports, sitting through meetings, and having almost no time for yourself. you needed to cool off.
what better way than to go on a trip with your friends?
so when joshua, seokmin, and seungcheol floated the idea of a vacation — somewhere warm, with no responsibilities and plenty of alcohol, you didn’t even hesitate. the four of you had been talking about it for months, and somehow, miraculously, everyone’s schedules finally aligned.
maldives is fun, beachy, sunny — everything to help take your minds off things. the water’s clear, the drinks are cold, and your biggest concern is whether to swim before or after your third mimosa.
and when your view includes three half-naked men with zero shame and way too much confidence? oh, scrumptious vacation.
you reach maldives after a long, painful 18-hour flight. exhausted, slightly dehydrated, but buzzing with the idea of doing absolutely nothing for the next few days.
you’d rented a villa just beside the beach — private, peaceful, and stupidly pretty. it looked exactly like the pictures, which felt like a small miracle in itself. joshua doesn't even wait to rest and removes his shirt and dives straight into the sea. he rises to the surface after a few seconds — hair sticking to his forehead, wet, and his shorts sticking way too well to his thighs.
fuck.
you shake your head, like that would somehow make the image disappear. you mutter something about needing to unpack and hurry inside, pretending like your brain isn’t already betraying you.
seungcheol follows you. he lugs in a couple of bags, drops them carelessly by the wall, and immediately makes himself at home — stretching like he’s just run a marathon, then flopping onto the couch with a dramatic sigh.
he spreads his legs. manspreads, really. like the couch owes him space. arms draped over the backrest, head tilted like he owns the place.
“you good?” he asks, glancing at you with that lazy smile. the one that’s gotten him out of actual consequences more times than you can count.
no, you are not good. not when his shirt rides up slightly and you catch a sliver of skin. not when he looks that comfortable in his own body.
you force a nod. “yeah. great.”
liar.
the rest of the day is…quite uneventful.
well not really. while the boys run straight into vacation mode — playing beachball, yelling over rules that don't exist, and somehow turning it into a full-on wrestling match in the water; you decide to sunbathe.
a peaceful choice. relaxing. calm.
except the view wasn’t exactly PG.
wet hair, bare chests, muscles flexing way too dramatically over a plastic ball, water glistening on skin that had no business looking that good under the sun.
you aren't even pretending to read anymore. just lying there on your towel, sunglasses on, trying to look unaffected while watching what could only be described as a thirst trap in motion.
delectable, honestly.
but after a while, it had gone suspiciously quiet. no yelling, no splashing, no chaotic screams over who cheated in beachball.
you lower your sunglasses just a little, eyes scanning the shoreline — only to find all three of them walking toward you in sync like some kind of hot boy band comeback.
you sit up instantly. “what.”
seokmin’s the first to speak, his voice all sunshine and mischief. “hey. you enjoying yourself?”
your eyes narrow. “…yes?”
joshua steps in beside him, flashing that deceptively innocent smile of his. “want to enjoy more?”
you barely get the chance to squint in confusion before a strong arm wraps around your waist.
“wait— wait, no—”
you are slung over seungcheol’s shoulder like a rag doll, the towel falling from your lap as he marches toward the ocean like a man on a mission.
“seungcheol!” you yell, squirming violently. “put me down!”
he doesn’t slow. doesn’t even flinch when you start pounding on his back, or when your palm smacks flat against his ass with a sharp thwack. if anything, he laughs.
“you sure you’re not enjoying this?” he teases.
“i swear to god, if you drop me, i’ll—”
he drops you.
one second you are yelling, the next you are underwater, surrounded by a burst of bubbles and betrayal. you come up gasping, hair clinging to your face, already shivering from the sudden shock.
“you absolute assholes!” you shout, wiping water from your eyes.
the three of them are doubled over on the sand, cackling like this is the funniest thing they’ve seen all year. they don’t even try to hide it.
you flip them off with both hands, still panting. “i hope jellyfish sting all of you.”
seokmin is the first to dive in after you, laughter spilling out of him. joshua follows with a dramatic splash. seungcheol strolls in last— smug, unbothered, like he hasn't just commit a full war crime.
you want to stay mad. really, you do. but when all three of them surround you in the water and start splashing like chaotic children, you burst out laughing before you can stop yourself.
by the time the sun starts to set, casting the beach in soft gold and cotton-candy pink, the chaos of the afternoon has settled into something calmer. the four of you are gathered around a bonfire, legs tucked into blankets, drinks in hand, the sound of waves lapping quietly in the background. seokmin connects a speaker, soft music playing in the background, and for the first time since arriving, it feels like you're really on vacation.
the fire crackles between you, sending warm flickers of light across their faces — catching in joshua’s lashes, the curve of seokmin’s smile, the sharp line of seungcheol’s jaw. you try not to stare. you fail miserably.
a few drinks in, with your feet buried in the cool sand and your head pleasantly fuzzy, seokmin claps his hands and declares that it’s time for truth or dare. and of course, no one says no.
the first few rounds are harmless. mild. someone has to sing. someone else has to reenact their most embarrassing drunken memory. you laugh until your stomach hurts, the buzz of alcohol and fire making everything feel lighter than it is.
and then joshua turns to you, his expression innocent in the most suspicious way possible. he leans back on one arm, cradling his drink, and asks, “truth. have you ever found any of us attractive?”
you freeze. your drink pauses halfway to your lips. it’s an easy question to dodge. but for whatever reason, maybe it’s the alcohol — you don’t dodge.
“yes,” you say, simply.
seokmin blinks. “wait, like... one of us?”
you look him right in the eye. “no. all of you. i want all of you.”
you don’t really know why you say the last part, but that shuts them up. for a second, at least.
then seokmin laughs, stunned. joshua raises his brows, clearly amused. seungcheol’s gaze sharpens, but he doesn’t say anything.
you try to act unfazed, but you can feel the shift in the air — the way all three of them are looking at you now, just a little differently. like they’re seeing something they weren’t allowed to before.
joshua laughs, but there’s a ragged edge to it. “You’re serious?”
you swallow, heart hammering. “Yeah. I’m serious.”
the flames of the bonfire crackle behind you, warm against your back, but it’s nothing compared to the heat rolling off them now.
“fuck,” he murmurs, voice low and tight. “you really know how to set us off.”
seungcheol still hasn’t moved. still hasn’t spoken. just watching you with that dangerous, calculating look, as if he’s deciding what to do next. finally, he shifts forward, elbows on his knees: “say it again.”
you hesitate, then you repeat, “i want all of you.”
a moment of perfect, breathless silence.
then seungcheol stands up. he holds out a hand, steady and sure, no questions in his eyes anymore. “come here.”
your legs feel like water, but you obey, slipping your fingers into his. he pulls you up, guiding you off the sand, joshua and seokmin following behind.
joshua’s hand comes to rest at the small of your back, reassuring and possessive all at once. “we’ll take care of you,” he promises, voice gone husky.
your breath catches, tension coiling low in your belly as the atmosphere shifts.
joshua steps in first, fingers reaching up to brush your hair from your face. his touch is gentle, careful — but his eyes are anything but. “say the word,” he murmurs. “we’ll stop if you want us to.”
you glance at all of them. seungcheol is standing near the bar, watching you like he’s been holding back all night. seokmin’s already closer, his eyes flicking to your mouth. joshua, in front of you now, so close his breath brushes your cheek.
you nod. once. “don’t stop.”
joshua kisses you first. slow, like he’s testing what you’ll allow — but you don’t want to hold back. your hands slide into his hair, fingers tugging slightly, and he groans against your mouth.
then seokmin’s behind you, arms slipping around your waist as he presses a kiss to your neck, and your knees almost give.
“fuck, you smell good,” he mumbles, lips trailing just below your ear. “you’ve been driving me insane all day.”
you feel another presence — seungcheol, finally stepping in. his hand comes up to tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.
“how do you want this?” he asks, voice low and steady. “you tell us.”
you blink up at him, breathless. “i want you all over me.”
“fuck,” seokmin says behind you. “this is really happening.”
“no backing out now,” joshua murmurs, smiling as he kisses down your jaw.
then everything blurs — hands tugging at clothes, laughter mixed with groans, mouths everywhere. someone lifts you, someone else pulls your shirt over your head, and soon you’re being laid down on the oversized couch, bodies pressing in from every side.
you feel joshua’s lips on your chest, soft and reverent, while seokmin is sliding his fingers along your thighs, eyes wide with awe like he’s never seen anything prettier.
seungcheol kneels beside you, one hand wrapped around your jaw, the other sliding slowly down your stomach. “you’re still sure?” he asks again.
you don’t answer with words and just grab his wrist and guide his hand lower.
seungcheol’s mouth twitches at your answer — or lack thereof — when you guide his hand lower, letting your hips roll up into his palm.
“needy already?” he mutters, fingers slipping between your legs over your damp bottoms. “figures. all that attitude earlier — guess you just needed someone to fuck it out of you.”
your breath hitches. before you can even think of something smart to say, joshua tugs your shorts down your legs, tossing them somewhere across the room.
“she’s soaked,” joshua murmurs, his tone almost reverent. “and we’ve barely touched her.”
seokmin groans behind you. “fuck, i want her mouth.”
“then take it,” seungcheol says, voice hard now, like he’s not here to play anymore.
seokmin’s hand forms a fist in your hair in the next second, yanking your head back just enough to make you gasp. his cock is already out — hard, flushed, leaking — and he presses it to your lips, grinning down at you.
“open up, sweetheart. no more hiding behind those pretty little eyes.”
he groans the second you wrap your lips around him, pushing deep with no hesitation. his hand stays tangled in your hair, controlling the pace, dragging you down on his cock until your eyes water.
“shit, look at her,” joshua breathes, kneeling beside your thighs now. “so fucking desperate. you like being used, don’t you?”
you moan around seokmin’s cock, hips jerking upward because now seungcheol’s fingers are slipping inside you, thick and rough and fast.
joshua leans in and spits right on your pussy, spreading it with two fingers while seungcheol still pumps you open. “i want her dripping down my cock,” he mutters. “i want to hear her cry for it.”
seokmin lets out a choked laugh above you. “she’s already crying, hyung. look at her.”
tears stream down your cheeks from how deep he’s fucking your mouth, the wet squelch of fingers between your legs echoing in the room, your body squirming — helpless, overwhelmed, and loving every filthy second.
then it all moves fast.
you are flipped on your knees, cheeks hot, ass in the air. seungcheol delivers the first slap hard, loud, making you yelp and clench around nothing.
“don’t whine,” he snaps, rubbing the sting in. “you wanted this. all of us, remember?”
“yeah,” joshua laughs, lining up behind you now. “you said it so sweet. ‘i want all of you.’ little attention whore.”
you don’t get a chance to argue, not when joshua sinks into you in one hard thrust, burying himself to the hilt.
you scream — or you try to, but seokmin’s already pushing back into your mouth.
double stuffed. one in your mouth, one in your cunt, and one more still waiting.
“look at her,” seungcheol mutters, stroking himself now as he watches from the front. “fucking made for this.”
you’re already shaking. joshua’s pace is brutal, slamming into you from behind, his fingers digging into your hips. seokmin keeps your head in place, fucking your throat with no mercy.
“gonna stretch that tight little ass too,” seungcheol says, leaning down behind you. “think you can take it, baby?”
you try to nod, eyes wide and wet.
he spits on his fingers and starts working them into your ass, slow at first — then faster when he feels how easily you’re giving in.
“so fucking filthy,” he growls. “what a perfect fucking toy.”
you don’t know how you’re still conscious when joshua pulls out, only to be replaced by seungcheol behind you. joshua’s hand fists your hair again, lifting your head.
“you wanted all of us?” he says, voice rough. “then take all of us.”
seokmin’s still down your throat. seungcheol’s cock presses into your ass, slow, stretching you impossibly wide.
and then joshua slides into your pussy again.
both of them inside you.
you let out a muffled scream around seokmin’s cock.
you’re not even sure what you're saying anymore — the sounds coming from your mouth are nothing but muffled moans, choked and wet around seokmin’s cock. your jaw aches, your throat burns, but he doesn’t let up.
“shit,” he mutters, his grip tightening in your hair. “gonna fucking cum down your throat. you want that?”
you try to nod, eyes rolling back as you gag around him.
he groans, hips stuttering, and then he holds you down on him, cock buried deep in your throat.
“take it. fucking take it,” he growls.
and then you feel it — hot spurts spilling straight down your throat, thick and messy. he holds you there, cock twitching, groaning like he’s never felt anything better.
you swallow instinctively, tears slipping down your cheeks. he finally pulls out with a grunt, your lips swollen and wet, chin slick with spit and cum.
“fuck, look at you,” he breathes, dragging his thumb over your mouth. “so pretty when you’re ruined.”
joshua’s still fucking into you, hard and fast, every thrust punching sounds out of your mouth. you’re stretched and used, your body trembling between them, but he’s not done.
“she’s still tight,” he pants, grabbing your hips and slamming into you deeper. “still fucking milking my cock like she wants more.”
“gonna fill this pussy up,” he growls, pace growing erratic. “gonna make you leak all over the fucking floor.”
“do it,” seungcheol urges from behind, watching as he thrusts into your ass while joshua takes your pussy. “fill her up. she can take it.”
you’re so close to falling apart again, and then joshua lets out a sharp moan, thrusts one last time, and cums.
his hips stutter, cock pulsing deep inside you as he spills everything — hot and messy, groaning your name like a curse.
“fuck, fuck, fuck—”
you can feel it dripping out of you already, slick and warm and filthy.
joshua collapses forward against your back, panting against your shoulder.
“she’s perfect,” he mutters, breath still shaky. “fucking perfect.”
you don’t even get a moment to breathe before seungcheol growls in your ear —
“don’t go soft now. i’m not done with you yet.”
you barely have time to catch your breath. your body’s limp, jaw sore, your thighs shaking and soaked with a mixture of spit and cum — theirs and yours. you’re half-leaning against the couch, chest rising and falling rapidly, hair a mess across your face. joshua’s breath is still hot on your shoulder, his cum dripping slowly from between your legs.
“fuck, she’s twitching,” seokmin mutters, still sitting on the floor in front of you, lazily stroking himself back to hardness. “you gonna cry again, sweetheart?”
you whimper something incoherent. it doesn’t matter. they’re already working you open again.
joshua shifts beside you, dragging a finger through the mess dripping out of your pussy and pushing it right back in. “can’t waste any of that,” he murmurs, voice sweet but mocking. “she needs it.”
“look at this filthy little cunt,” seungcheol spits, reaching around to slap your clit hard enough to make your legs buckle. “you want another load in you? greedy whore can’t get enough?”
seokmin drags you up by your waist and flips you on your back.
“can’t wait to try this pussy next,” he says, voice low and dark. “gonna fuck you until you cry.”
and he does — hard and deep, rutting into you with a pace that has your mouth falling open in a soundless moan.
joshua kneels beside your head, grinning like he’s found his favourite toy.
he grabs your jaw, thumb swiping across your swollen lower lip.
“she looks fucked stupid already,” he mutters, voice dripping with pride. “let’s see how much more she can take.”
you open your mouth for him.
he slides his cock past your lips less harshly than seokmin did — letting you feel every inch, every vein, groaning when your tongue moves against him.
“yeah, just like that,” he breathes. “so fucking pretty like this.”
seungcheol leans over the back of the couch, one hand wrapping around your throat as seokmin pounds into you.
“how’s it feel?” he growls into your ear. “being passed around like this? like a little toy for us to use?”
you moan pathetically, muffled by joshua’s cock, your body jolting with every rough thrust joshua drives into you.
“can’t even answer anymore,” seungcheol laughs.
you don’t even care. your mind’s gone. all you can do is suck and moan and cum again as seokmin hits that spot inside you with ruthless precision.
“she’s squeezing me so hard,” seokmin gasps, pace stuttering. “fuck, she’s gonna make me—”
and then he groans — loud, raw — as he cums deep inside you, hips jerking forward as he fills you.
joshua’s not far behind. he pulls out at the last second, fisting his cock quickly and he cums across your chest.
your legs barely work anymore. your whole body trembles, slick and sore and marked up from head to toe. seokmin is still half-sprawled on the couch beside you, lazy and smug, his cum leaking out of you in slow, hot drips. joshua is sitting across from you, shirtless, still catching his breath, watching you with a wide grin and glazed eyes like he just witnessed something holy.
but it’s not over. not until seungcheol says it is.
he’s still standing above you, hard as ever, one hand wrapped around his cock, the other sliding down your ruined thigh. he crouches between your legs, eyes drinking you in — fucked-out, flushed, your chest rising and falling in shallow, desperate breaths.
“look at you,” he mutters, thumb swiping between your folds, gathering the mess the other two left behind. “cum dripping out of this hole like it’s starving.”
you whimper, legs twitching as he presses two fingers back inside you. you're stretched and sensitive, your body jolting with every curl of his hand.
behind him, joshua hums, “she still wants more?”
seungcheol growls as he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours. “they already used you up. and you still want more?”
you whine, your fingers fisting in the couch cushions.
“say it,” he commands.
you choke out, “want you.”
he pulls his fingers out, sucks them clean, and then lines himself up. he thrusts all the way in. your legs fly open as your body locks up under him.
joshua lets out a low whistle. “fuck, look at her face.”
“she’s gone,” seokmin laughs. “hyung is gonna break her.”
and he does. his pace is brutal, unrelenting, fucking into you like your cunt belongs to him and only him. your body arches, nails drag down his back, and your moans dissolve into broken sobs.
“so fuckin’ messy,” he grits out. “so full, and still clenching around me like a needy slut.”
you try to speak — to beg him or thank him or tell him you’re going to cum again. but all that comes out is a desperate gasp, tears spilling down your cheeks.
“that’s it, baby. you’re doing great!” his hips snap harder.
your climax hits out of nowhere — explosive, gut-wrenching, ripping through you like lightning. your back arches violently, a scream torn from your throat as your body clamps down around him.
“fuck, that’s it.” seungcheol moans, losing control as he thrusts harder, faster, chasing his own high through your convulsing cunt. “gonna fill you up. give you every last fucking drop.”
and when he cums it’s rough — he slams in deep, cock twitching, hot spurts spilling into you while he growls your name against your neck.
he stays there for a second, buried deep, your legs still shaking around him.
joshua hums, amused. “think she passed out.”
seungcheol pulls back slowly, looking down at the mess between your legs — his cum and theirs leaking out of you, your thighs trembling, your body twitching from overstimulation.
“you took it so fucking well,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
you feel like jelly now. muscles aching, lips swollen, thighs sticky and sore in the best way. the air’s heavy with sex and sweat and heat, yet no one’s moving away.
you lie back on the cushion, chest rising and falling unevenly, and they… just look at you. like they’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
seokmin is the first to move. he leans in and kisses your shoulder, then one just above your collarbone, then another on the curve of your jaw.
“hi,” he whispers against your skin, lips curling into a smile. “still alive?”
you manage a breathy laugh. “barely.”
“good.” he kisses you again. “we’ll keep it that way.”
joshua shifts beside you, dragging his fingertips up and down your thigh, slow and gentle, before leaning down to kiss your hip.
“you okay?” he murmurs.
you turn your head toward him, reaching to tangle your fingers in his hair. “i’m perfect.”
he grins, then leans in and kisses you slowly.
seungcheol’s hand rests on your stomach. he watches the two of you kiss for a moment, then leans in and steals one of his own.
he kisses you deeper, firm but gentle — never taking more than you give.
“can i hold you?” he asks courteously. “while i’m inside?”
you nod immediately.
he pulls you gently onto his lap, easing you down over his cock with slow aching patience. there’s no rush, no pressure, just the stretch of him filling you again and the quiet gasp you let out as your arms wrap around his neck.
his lips find yours again, a little hungrier this time. his hands roam your back, your hips, your spine like he can’t stop touching you.
joshua moves behind you, peppering kisses along your neck, your shoulder then down your back. seokmin joins, his mouth pressing against your chest, your ribs, your stomach. every part of you that trembles under their touch gets kissed like worship.
“i feel like i’m dreaming,” seokmin admits, his voice muffled against your skin. “you’re going to ruin everyone else for me.”
seungcheol holds you like you are fragile now, his cock buried deep inside but barely moving — just enough to keep you full.
“you feel it?” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours.
“everywhere,” you breathe.
slow rolls of seungcheol’s hips. joshua’s lips dragging up your spine. seokmin’s kisses laid over your chest, your throat, your cheek.
your eyes flutter shut. your mouth finds whoever leans in first — joshua maybe, then seokmin, then seungcheol.
“can you cum one more time?” seungcheol asks, voice rough from holding back. “for us?”
you nod, chest tight.
his hand slides between you, thumb circling your clit slow, maddening motions.
“let go for us, baby.” joshua whispers into your ear. “you are so fucking good for us.”
you break again, coming around seungcheol with a quiet cry, clinging to his shoulder as he groans and finally lets go inside of you, filling you with a trembling gasp against your neck.
you don’t know how long you lie there, half-sprawled against seungcheol’s chest, with joshua stretched out beside you, his hand lazily draws circles into your thigh, and seokmin curled against your side like a contented cat.
no one speaks for a while. your body is buzzing — overstimulated and sore, but in the best way. your lips are swollen, your thighs sticky, your chest covered in love bites and lazy kisses. your skin feels too warm, like you’ve been sun-drunk and sex-drunk all at once.
then joshua breaks the silence with a soft laugh. “well. that happened.”
you groan and bury your face in seungcheol’s neck. “don’t say it like that.”
“you mean… like we didn’t just absolutely destroy you?” seokmin teases, brushing his knuckles along your ribs. “because we did. and you’re gonna feel it tomorrow.”
“i feel it now.” you mutter.
“bath,” seungcheol says quietly, voice gravelly against your cheek. “you need one.”
he doesn’t ask, just moves. lifts you effortlessly off his chest. joshua and seokmin follow, groaning as they stretch and stumble toward the bathroom, like you’re all a little tipsy on each other.
the tub fills while you sit on the edge, wrapped in one of joshua’s shirts — the first thing someone pulled over you, soft and worn and smelling like him. you blink slowly, dazed, as seokmin adjusts the temperature and seungcheol pours something that smells like lavender into the water.
“she’s still floaty,” joshua murmurs, kissing your shoulder as he crouches behind you. “you good?”
you nod, sleepily. “mm. warm.”
“good,” he smiles. “we’ll take care of the rest.”
they help you into the tub once it’s ready — hands gentle, murmurs soft. joshua sits behind you, pulling you against his chest, while seokmin starts washing your arms with slow, soapy strokes, making little bubbles just to kiss them off your shoulder.
seungcheol kneels beside the tub, running his palm over your thigh, your folds, your foot. he presses a kiss to your knee and mutters, “you did so good for us.”
you hum quietly, eyes fluttering shut. “you guys are being weirdly sweet now.”
“what, you want us to degrade you after we fill you with cum?” seokmin snorts.
“kinda,” you mumble, and they all laugh — soft, affectionate.
the rest of the bath is quiet. peaceful. joshua rubs your shoulders. seokmin starts humming something under his breath. seungcheol brings you a bottle of water and a clean towel and kisses your temple without a word.
by the time they help you into bed, you’re already half asleep — hair damp, skin warm, clean clothes sticking slightly to your freshly washed skin.
you crawl under the covers and instantly feel joshua slide in beside you, followed by seokmin on your other side. seungcheol takes the last space — his arm over your waist, his chest to your back, his breath even against your neck.
“you’re staying here, right?” joshua asks quietly.
you smile into the pillow. “where else would i go?”
you close your eyes, sinking into the warmth of their bodies, but your mind doesn’t stop.
how the hell is the rest of this trip supposed to go now? sharing cocktails by the pool like you didn’t have all of them inside you hours ago?
how do you go back to spreadsheets and small talk when you’ve just discovered that your new normal might involve three sinfully attractive men and way too few clothes?
you’re not sure.
but right now, wrapped up in their arms, you don’t really care.
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someone stole my lunch?! 𑣲 j. wonwoo
SUMMARY: You can tolerate a lot. You don’t care when someone messes up your documents or when your situationship ghosts you after two dates or when your manager is drowning your work in red ink. It was annoying, but survivable. If someone steals your lunch, especially the one you woke up early to make for yourself, that's where you draw the line. No one is hot enough to be forgiven for food theft. Not even the annoyingly calm, morally upright, infuriatingly handsome attorney from the legal department. And you’re about to catch him.
PAIRINGS: jeon wonwoo x f. reader
GENRE: fluff, comedy, angst (soft), office romance, smut, oneshot
WARNINGS: suggestive content (MDNI!), cursing ofc, mention of family death, impregnation kink themes, unprotected sex, consensual m/f dynamics, dirty jokes (im sorry), mildly toxic workplace environment
WC: 8.9k
add tags❦︎: attorney! wonwoo, reader is in pr team, strangers to lovers, food puns (intended), wonwoo is kinda of an asshole here, minghao side quest, booseoksoon mentioned ft. mingyu, jeonghan you piece of shit, crackfic, dom!wonwoo, implied inexperienced reader, happy ending aye.
a/n: i'd like to think that im creative. also pls don't play with your food guys, inspired by one of the indie VN games i played.
No one is hot enough to be forgiven for stealing food.
And you’re about to catch that rat in action.
There’s nothing more infuriating than someone eating your lunch, especially when you made it that morning. With your own groceries. Your own money and your own time.
Your blood, sweat, and tears.
Oh, you’re about to be devastatingly mad. You want to throw the trash bin across the pantry, curse at the manager, maybe even consider resigning on the spot.
But did you?
Obviously not. Moment of weakness, as we speak.
Two hours earlier.
…
Work-life balance? Don’t know her.
Your life had been mundane as usual, and honestly, you didn’t mind that. You just wished your corporate life would stop trying to actively ruin it. Ever since the new CEO took over the man who stepped in after his father—you weren’t sure what to think of him. What you did know was that the company had been overworking its employees nonstop.
You wouldn’t even complain if they at least upgraded the cafeteria menu.
The new caterer didn’t seem to care about repeating the same dishes over and over to the point that one of your coworkers ended up with a stomachache. Not to mention the coffee drip machine sucked. Like, genuinely sucked. Thousand-dime company, yet they never bothered to upgrade the damn coffee machine.
No one wanted to drink that brown liquid. You’d rather dehydrate than willingly swallow it.
Since then, most people have started going out for lunch. Some just kept working through it, to the point of developing gastritis or borderline malnutrition.
But not you.
You refused to starve yourself.
Your mother always said: never be stingy with money when it comes to food. Money comes and goes.
That’s what she said.
Nothing beats a home-cooked meal. You’d choose that over takeout any day, unless you were really busy.
Just in time, it was finally lunch.
You had been anticipating this. Your lunch. Your heavenly five-star meal that you poured your whole heart into this morning.
Heck, you didn’t even eat breakfast. Just that cheap black coffee from the café downstairs.
Today’s packed treasure? A hamburg steak with a molten cheese filling in the center, paired with soft, fluffy rice.
You didn’t forget the fiber either broccoli and roasted potatoes to balance the meal. You swore nothing beat homemade meat: freshly ground beef, breadcrumbs, and spices that actually made sense together.
You’d like to think you’re very good at pounding meat.
The mental image of that juicy steak, gravy cascading over the top and soaking into white rice, made your stomach growl loudly.
God, you couldn’t wait to devour the whole thing. It was your self-reward after hours of sitting in your office chair to the point your ass might permanently imprint into it.
Sure, you couldn’t eat it fresh off the stove but at least the microwave here was more competent than the company’s infrastructure.
With a small, happy hum, you walked to the pantry fridge.
Around this time, the shelves were usually emptier. Only one or two transparent containers remained, so spotting yours should’ve been easy, the pink lunchbox. Your trusted Tupperware.
Of course your food deserved the best of the best. Duh.
You picked it up.
And immediately, something felt… off.
There was a sauce stain around the lid. And now that you thought about it somehow felt lighter than it had that morning.
You frowned but didn’t overthink it.
Until you opened it.
Your steak was…
Gone.
Like, all gone.
Your thick, juicy steak. Your fluffy rice. Your vegetables drowned lovingly in gravy.
Vanished.
Your stomach growled again as you blinked down at the empty container.
You weren’t just hungry. You were starving.
A small, devastated wail almost slipped out of you.
How could someone steal another person’s lunch? That was straight-up cruel. There was absolutely no excuse to think someone needed it more than you.
If anything, you needed it the most.
Because you deserved it. After all the prep. The early alarm. The effort.
You inhaled slowly, trying to be rational.
It would be wildly unprofessional for someone from the PR team to crash out over stolen food. So fine. You’d handle this professionally.
You pulled out your phone and speed-dialed HR. It was important to keep essential contacts ready. That’s what Seungkwan always said.
The call connected.
“Hello, this is Hyunsuk from Human Resources,” a flat voice answered. “How may I help you?”
“Hi, Hyunsuk. I’d like to report a theft.”
“Okay,” he replied. “What was stolen?”
You didn’t hesitate. “My lunch.”
There was a brief pause.
“Was it during company hours or on company property?”
“Yes and yes.”
“Unfortunately, we cannot compensate for your loss.”
You frowned. “I don’t want compensation, Hyunsuk.”
You swore you could hear him sigh. “An employee’s lunch is considered personal property.”
“Yes, but isn’t it concerning that theft is happening on company grounds?”
“We have cases like this happen very often,” he said. “The company is not responsible for them.”
“Yes, I know, but—”
“If you have anything else to report, please send an email,” he cut in. “My lunch break is starting.”
The line went dead.
Hyunsuk hung up.
You stared at your phone in disbelief. “…But my hamburg steak…”
Your eye twitched.
He just said it happens often.
Then do something about it?
“Whatever. Nobody even likes Hyunsuk.”
In fact, you weren’t sure he liked anyone at all.
With nothing else you could do, you begrudgingly poured yourself a lukewarm cup of coffee and returned to your desk with empty stomach, extra caffeine, and a growing vendetta.
The next day, you decided to let it go.
Okay, maybe you were being too forgiving. But hey, you were just hangry yesterday. Surely it was a one-time thing.
Still, the way Hyunsuk said these “theft incidents” happened often baffled you. As if they were normalizing it.
Like, what’s even the function of all those security cameras around the office?
If they can draw a hard line on “no inappropriate office activities,” then surely they can give justice to your stolen lunch too.
Crazy.
The last time people went into the pantry, they literally saw used condoms in the bin. Goodness gracious, as if the toilet didn’t exist. You’d rather not walk past and hear… unwanted noises either.
You did consider writing a company-wide email and CC’ing everyone. After all, who the hell knew who ate your lunch?
You refused to take this as egg-ceptance.
…Maybe not yet.
Despite yesterday’s tragedy, you still brought your lunch today.
After all, you made mapo tofu. And you were not backing down.
How did you make it again?
Oh, right.
Sichuan peppercorns.
While you weren’t a huge fan of overly spicy food, the spice of life played an important role in cooking. You could never forget the nose-numbing aroma of roasted Sichuan pepper. The thick red oil from the fermented bean paste. The firm, bouncy cubes of tofu holding heat so intense it transcended taste buds.
The Mapo Tofu.
You paired it with plain white rice but nothing could overpower the fragrance of chili oil and peppercorns.
It reminded you of that business trip, when Minghao introduced you to mala hotpot and a whole new universe of Chinese spices. You even brought souvenirs back, mostly seasonings to experiment with.
Bless him and his encyclopedic knowledge.
But today’s version?
Different.
Just in case, you doubled the heat. Twice the ground peppercorn. Extra chili flakes. A spice level too powerful for the mortal tongue.
Right before sealing the lid, you sprinkled a little more pepper.
If anyone dared to open your lunch, a red powdery explosion would await them.
Maybe you did this on purpose.
If they stole it again, you hoped their ass would explode in the toilet like that scene in White Chicks.
Serves them right.
…
Lunch break came.
You approached the fridge like a soldier returning to war.
You prayed the thief hadn’t struck again.
But the moment you picked up your Tupperware, the weight or lack of it—felt ominous.
You opened it and found it was already gone.
Again.
Empty.
But how? Why?
First of all, what the fuck? Second of all, who the hell devoured that hellishly spicy mapo tofu? Surely their stomach would declare war soon.
And third…
What. The. Fuck.
Who was this food-crazed glutton?
“…Wait,” you muttered to yourself. “If someone ate my super spicy Sichuan mapo tofu, their lips should be bright red right now!”
You didn’t hesitate.
Within the remaining minutes of your break, you scanned the entire floor like a detective on a mission.
Red lips. Red lips. Red lips.
But to no avail.
Your pepper-kissed burglar was nowhere to be found.
Much to your annoyance, there were simply too many employees in this company. Half of them wore bold red lipstick anyway. You couldn’t tell if it was spice-induced inflammation or just cosmetics.
You didn’t care.
You just wanted the rat-stealing-food burglar.
It was almost time to go home but unfortunately, a major project was in peak season. Several departments had to stay for overtime.
Including yours.
No one liked overtime.
Sure, you got paid. But was it worth it?
Maybe you should start your own business one day. Open a brunch café. Lower stress. Maybe finally use your bachelor’s degree properly.
You sighed.
Seokmin had given you a small box of macarons earlier after seeing the fury on your face but you hadn’t eaten them. You refused to fill your stomach with pity sweets. Too busy drowning in despair and caffeine as you typed aggressively at your keyboard.
The loud clacking and flipping of papers earned you a few glances.
You didn’t care.
Your food had been stolen. Twice.
Why should you care about their peace when they didn’t care about yours?
Fair is fair.
Eventually, you brushed it off and went downstairs to the convenience store before returning to the office. Instant noodles and sausages.
How classic.
You weren’t alone though.
There was a guy sitting a few seats away. Still in work clothes. His blazer hung over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled just above his elbows. He was eating two cups of buldak ramen, the spicy kind.
It reminded you of your Sichuan mapo tofu.
You felt like you were mourning a loss.
And for some reason, you caught a faint scent of pepper clinging to his suit.
Maybe you were imagining it.
People had been avoiding you all day anyway, some even spraying air freshener after you walked past.
Still, you kept glancing at him.
Was it common for two people to coincidentally crave spicy food on the same day? Watching him slurp down two buldak ramens made your stomach twist.
Noticing your stare, he paused.
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and turned to you. “You got some staring problem?”
His voice was deep and calm but the tone carried an edge.
“What?”
“I said,” he continued, face still stoic, cheeks slightly puffed with noodles, “got some staring problem? I know I’m a sight for sore eyes, but didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude?”
You blinked.
“Excuse me?”
Now it was your turn to feel offended.
You almost apologized earlier. Good thing that you didn’t.
This guy is insufferable.
Judging by his face alone, of course he was. The only good thing about him was his face. And unfortunately, the bad thing was also his face. What a waste of something that pretty.
You couldn’t help but hope there was at least one imperfect thing about him. Maybe his personality was rotten. Maybe he snored. Maybe—
Whatever.
You just hoped his dick is ugly. Then again, no dick is ever pretty anyway.
“Rude…” you muttered under your breath before returning to your convenience-store “meal.”
After a while, you finished dinner and headed back into the company building, americano in hand.
And much to your surprise—
The guy was there too.
Walking in the same direction.
For a second, you almost thought he was a creep.
And then came the real disappointment.
He fucking worked here.
You nearly lost it on the spot.
Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? People in this company were either painfully dull, aggressively gray, or casually insufferable. If you were lucky, you’d meet someone with a decent moral compass.
Rare species.
Standing in the same elevator as him didn’t help. You had a talent for meeting the worst people at the worst possible times.
What’s new?
Still, you caught it again.
That scent. It was faint now but familiar.
The lingering peppery aroma. The same one from your stolen mapo tofu.
Okay. Maybe you were slightly unhinged, grieving over lost lunch.
But still.
You sniffed subtly and shifted a little closer.
The man frowned at you like you’d just malfunctioned.
“Hypothetically speaking,” he said flatly, “if you want to fuck me, you could just say so.”
You blinked.
Excuse me?
Oh, you would absolutely fuck him up alright but that was a different story.
He was insufferable. And irritating him suddenly felt therapeutic.
You scoffed and stepped back into your space.
“You have your entire life to be a jerk,” you shot back. “Why not take today off?”
Now it was his turn to look at you properly.
“I don’t know what your problem is,” he replied calmly, “but I’m guessing it’s difficult to pronounce.”
Oh, he was annoying.
“If I wanted to hear from an asshole,” you said sweetly, “I’d fart.”
There was a brief silence.
He stared at you.
You stared back.
He genuinely looked like he was calculating whether you were capable of doing it.
The elevator doors slid open.
You stepped out first.
“See you not later, Mr. Hodenkobold.”
He looked like he was about to fire back but the doors closed before he could.
For once, it felt nice to rage-bait someone else.
Especially after your lunch had been stolen.
So you decided.
For the next two days, you were going to catch the rat-stealing-lunch and end this once and for all.
For a brief, dangerous second, you did consider rat poison. But the thought of going to jail?
Absolutely not.
As tempting as it was, you couldn’t risk it. You had a baby to feed back at your studio apartment.
Your cat.
While you were suffering over your stolen gourmet lunches, your cat—Wonton, the name you lovingly gave her, was happily eating premium-grade cat food.
It was unfair. Really.
So you came up with a plan.
This time, you packed a cute bento-themed lunchbox: omelet nori rolls and rice balls.
Except—
They were made of wax.
Yes. Wax.
You followed a YouTube tutorial. Styrofoam base. Acrylic paint for texture. You even added gloss to make it look freshly glazed. Turns out, you had raw talent for this.
It looked absolutely gouda. An egg-cellent fake lunchbox.
You were certain the food stealer was souper hungry right now.
Okay. You really needed to stop hanging out with Seokmin and his endless food puns.
You even added a faint pepper scent to make it smell convincing. Surely no one was dumb enough to fall for fake food.
…Right?
But if they did? It would be hilarious.
…
When you returned at lunch break and opened the lid, you froze.
“….”
There was one—no, two chunks missing.
A bite taken out of the fake omelet.
You blinked.
What kind of unhinged human gluttony was this?
You couldn’t brie-lieve it.
They actually ate the wax.
The next day, you switched tactics.
You made curry fish head, rich curry paste blooming in oil, coconut milk thickening the broth just the way you liked it. You had to thank Minghao again for that Southeast Asia culinary expedition.
This time?
Untouched.
The container was slightly shifted, the lid smudged but the food remained intact.
You assumed the thief wasn’t a seafood fan.
Or maybe allergic.
That theory lasted exactly twenty-four hours.
The following day, you packed creamy rosé pasta with shrimp and clams. Garnished with basil. Sprinkled with oregano. And, of course, little octopus-shaped cocktail sausages.
For insurance, you taped a note to the lid:
you do not touch. i will find you. bon appetit, mf.
You stuck it firmly on top of your Tupperware.
Surely this would intimidate them.
Surely.
...
You returned during lunch break and immediately noticed the note had slipped to the floor.
You picked it up.
Your handwriting stared back at you.
And underneath—
you. do not touch. i will find you. bon appetit, mf. "𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘"
You stared at it in disbelief at the bold, neat handwriting.
Slowly, you lifted the paper then tore it to shreds with your teeth, pure rage simmering in your veins.
The audacity must be on clearance sale.
When you opened the container, your jaw tightened.
Your pasta? Gone. The noodles devoured and the octopus-shaped sausages? Missing.
The shrimp and clams?
Only to be left behind.
Oh.
So they weren’t allergic.
They were picky.
You clenched your jaw, saliva dampening the dry paper as it scraped against your tongue. “Wow. Tasty, indeed,” you mocked under your breath.
This needs to end now.
You honestly need to lock the fuck in this time, to catch that rat-stealing-food burglar. You just hoped they stepped on dog shit today, that both their pillows smelled horrible, and that they’d have the worst fucking nightmare the moment they woke up.
“Hey,” Seokmin approached you with Soonyoung beside him. “Rice to meet you today.” He greeted cheerily, but the moment he noticed your moody face, he faltered. “Okay… berry sorry for that.”
Both of them leaned against the railings beside you. Soonyoung offered you a lollipop. You needed that so much instead of lighting up tobacco, which you’d quit back in your college days.
“Is it about the lunch stealing again?” he asked. “I carrot believe that person’s kept the stealing streak going this far.”
You gave him a look. It seemed like Seokmin had rubbed off on him with all those food puns.
He raised his hands in surrender. “In my defense, I’m feeling saucy today. It’s alright, we can grab dinner after this—my treat, of course.” Soonyoung tried to reassure you, knowing how furious you get when your food gets stolen.
“Yeah, let’s meat up for dinner!” Seokmin chimed in, making you roll your eyes.
Wait.
That’s it.
You have to meet that fucking rat-stealer face to face.
...
This time, you made your well-crafted most scrumptious, katsu sandwich. Cut in halves, three thick slices stacked neatly inside your Chiikawa-pattern container. Minghao had given it to you after his business trip to Japan, and you gladly accepted it since the cartoon was trending everywhere lately.
You liked the yellow rabbit character. It reminded you of yourself because he’s a big back.
Just like you.
Anyway.
You were not about to let your lunch get taken away this time.
And this time, you were going to protect it like it mattered more than your own life. For the sake of your health insurance, you tried not to pounce on that food burglar.
You were not about to let your money, sweat, and time go to waste again.
Now that you think about it, you probably should’ve shown up ten minutes earlier before catching the culprit.
Standing from your seat, you headed toward the office pantry and peeked inside.
You couldn’t believe your eyes.
Someone was hunching over the fridge, hand hovering over the transparent containers then toward your Chiikawa lunchbox.
“Hm, this is new…” he murmured. “…and tacky.”
Excuse me?
You weren’t about to back down when someone literally mocked your precious lunchbox pattern. So what? You liked when your mom packed your food in a Hello Kitty container with those little fruit picks shaped like cat ears.
You cleared your throat to catch his attention. He jumped slightly, straightening up.
“Isn’t it too early for lunch break?” you asked, slowly approaching him, arms crossed.
He blinked.
It was the same four-eyed dude who inhaled two fire spicy bowl ramens the other day. You almost scoffed.
“You again,” he echoed. “And who are you?”
He still stood there, relaxed like he hadn’t just been caught red-handed.
“Me?” you repeated nonchalantly. “I’m not that important. Rather, why don’t we start with you, buddy.”
He looked like he didn’t want to continue this conversation. Probably hoping you’d leave.
Fine.
You indulged him for a moment and gave your name. When he finally replied, you learned his.
Jeon fucking Wonwoo.
You plastered a smile on your face. He turned away, ignoring you. The two of you just stood there for a few tense seconds.
“Don’t you have work to do?” he asked, sounding impatient.
“How’s that coffee?” you shot back, blatantly ignoring his question.
Wonwoo frowned, more like bristled at it, as if offended.
“Why would I drink that slimy brown liquid?” he said. “Don’t tell me… you drink that thing?”
“It’s not that bad,” you shrugged.
(It absolutely sucks.)
He chuckled, clearly mocking you. “You sound like you hate yourself.”
Oh, he’s so cocky.
Three days. Three days you’ve suffered because of this stealing bitch.
“Actually…” you stepped closer. “What did you do these past few days?”
He cocked an eyebrow and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Why? It’s a workweek. What else would I be doing?”
You weren’t buying it. “Do you always come to the pantry this often?”
“…I mean, I have to eat,” he replied like it was obvious. “Of course I come here.”
“Wow, me too!” you exclaimed sarcastically. “I have an idea—why don’t we eat together then?”
That made him falter.
He suddenly looked uneasy at your smile. Like you were plotting something.
“…No, thank you. I prefer eating alone. Now can you leave?”
“Why not?” You stepped closer, almost chest to chest even though he was much taller.
He stiffened but tried to maintain composure, clearing his throat before a grin slowly spread across his face.
“I see. If you wanted me so much, you shouldn’t have thrown yourself at me like that,” he chuckled lowly, eyes dragging down your figure. “All you had to do was ask.”
Your smile dropped instantly and stepped back.
You wanted to wipe that stupid grin off his face. That smug look made you want to chop off all his limbs.
“Oh, don’t lose that smile,” he tutted. “I’d rather think that mouth could do better. Maybe you’d be my cup of tea. Either way, it’s cheesed to meet you, Miss ____.”
Hell nah.
You were not backing down either.
Smiling sweetly, you replied, “You know what else my mouth could do, Mr. Jeon?”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Hurt your feelings. I think dildo is a perfectly acceptable insult. I’d call you a dick—but you’re not real enough.”
That caught him off guard.
He opened his mouth. Closed it again.
For the first time, Jeon Wonwoo didn’t know what to say.
“Cat got your tongue?” you smiled. “Or maybe my words are true—your dick isn’t that real.”
His eyes darkened as he stepped forward.
“Watch it. Say that again and I’ll put that mouth to good use.”
And then—
A sudden loud gasp from behind.
Both of you turned toward the doorway to see Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung frozen in place, hands dramatically covering their mouths.
“You heard that, guys?!” Seungkwan gasped. “What the fudge—she was about to get dicked down!”
Seokmin clutched Soonyoung’s arm. “Look at them pudding up against each other! They’re both nuts!”
“That’s tea-rrific,” Soonyoung added, “but whisk I’m willing to take for a pear like this!”
“GET OUT OF HERE!” you and Wonwoo barked simultaneously.
In the end, you shared your katsu sandwich with him.
Somehow, it turned into a mutual rant session about Hyunsuk. No one likes him anyway. Glad you’re both on the same boat.
He ended up taking you to dine at a downtown French bistro. Claimed it was “compensation.” Not that you were entirely forgiving about it.
You learned he works in the legal department. Recently promoted. Employee of the Month. Overworked to death.
“So, do you not have a life then?” you asked, noticing he’d loosened two buttons of his dress shirt, sleeves rolled up.
He’s handsome.
Annoyingly attractive.
If only he’d shut up.
But again, no attractive person should be forgiven for food stealing. Especially your lunch.
“I did,” he said, sipping his wine. “Until they put me to work.”
You nodded slowly. Then circled back.
“You could’ve just ordered takeaway. Why my lunch?”
He grinned, leaning back. “Why? Your lunch, of course. Yours is the best I’ve tasted so far.”
The audacity.
Rich in audacity. Poor manners.
“So… what would you like to order?” the waiter asked.
“Right. Food.” Wonwoo skimmed the menu.
“What do you recommend?” you asked.
He hummed, closing the menu and looking directly at you. “Anything that tastes good.”
Your throat dried slightly. Maybe you’re imagining things.
“Oh? Like what?”
“Meat.”
Silence.
“…Okay. I’ll just get ratatouille.”
“But that’s all vegetables.”
“Shut up, meathead.”
The waiter coughed. “How cooked would you like your steak, sir?”
Wonwoo was still looking at you.
“Make it medium rare. And make it two,” you smiled. “I’d like a piece of meat too.”
The waiter jolted and left immediately.
“How long have you been stealing?” you circled back.
He sighed. “Look, I didn’t mean to do that—well, that was until I met you.”
“M-me?”
“Your lunch.”
Oh.
“I don’t like takeaways. I used to live with my roommate, Mingyu. He cooked for both of us until I moved into my own apartment,” he said. “And I can’t cook for shit.”
“Can tell,” you replied smoothly. “Your personality is probably as shitty as your cooking.”
He glared.
You smiled.
“Watch that,” he warned. “I’m definitely putting that smart mouth to good use—”
“Shut up. Save it for later. I’m not riding that fake dick.”
“…”
Silence.
You took a sip of wine, scanning the dim lights of the restaurant. Fine dining. Expensive plates. His salary was probably double yours anyway.
“Here’s the deal,” you said. “Stop eating my lunch. That’s it.”
He considered. “Fine. I’ll pay for your groceries. How about that?”
“Nah.”
Wonwoo frowned, fingers lacing together. “Okay, I’m sorry. But I really don’t like the dripping coffee machine. And the cafeteria sucks. And I hate that the caterer keeps slipping her phone number onto my tray.”
“All I ate were ham and cream cheese bagels,” he continued. “Depressing, I know.”
You raised a brow, unimpressed. “Why not? For an attention whore like you, I thought you’d enjoy it.”
“She’s married. With five kids.”
“….”
Okay. Fair enough.
“Alright,” you sighed. “I’ll bite.”
His eyes lit up.
He almost reached across the table, close to your hand then thought better of it and grabbed the napkins instead.
“Can I go to your place after this?” he asked suddenly.
You nearly choked on your wine. “Excuse me? Aren’t we going too fast?”
“To inspect your goods,” he deadpanned. “Your fridge.”
Yeah.
He’s definitely messing with you.
You did let him come back to your studio apartment, after all the groceries were paid for by him, of course. In return, you taught him how to make the katsu sandwich he’d been annoyingly edging about all night.
And yes, it turns out he really doesn’t like seafood. Wonwoo said it upsets his stomach, and once was enough for him to swear it off forever.
You set the groceries aside just as your cat greeted you, weaving around your ankles while you washed your hands, Wonwoo hovering awkwardly behind you.
Your place was cozy. Very you, he thought.
“Who’s this little companion?” he asked, crouching down to pet your white Persian cat. “Got a name?” He glanced up at you, finally noticing the frilly apron you were wearing.
“Wonton,” you said, peeling onions as you passed him another apron, this one reading Kiss the Cook.
He slipped it over his head without complaint. “That’s funny. Do you have a food phase or something?”
Now that you thought about it… yeah.
“Yeah. I got dumpling takeaway that night, and she was inside the box when she was still a kitten. So I named her Wonton.”
The rest of the time, you walked him through each step carefully.
“So,” he said casually, “how often do you pound the meat?”
Silence.
You looked up.
He looked back, utterly oblivious. “The fried chicken sandwich yesterday was delectable.”
“Not much,” you muttered, going back to chopping potatoes. “Other than salty food—do you like sweets?”
He hummed while dipping the meat into egg batter and breadcrumbs. “Not really to be exact. I had it during a business trip in Europe. I don’t remember what it’s called. Something like… quickie?”
Your knife froze mid-chop.
“…Quiche,” you corrected. “It’s called quiche, Wonwoo.”
His face lit up, nodding like he’d just learned a new word.
For a moment, you wondered if he was messing with you but the genuine reaction told you otherwise.
“Are you messing with me?”
He blinked. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
You didn’t push it. It was pointless.
“Why can’t you cook?” you asked instead, lowering the coated meat into hot oil.
“Well, there’s this thing called ‘I just don’t,’” he said. “I once almost ate half-burnt scrambled eggs and decided never again.”
You scoffed. “It costs nothing to be kind with your words, you know.”
“Some days it costs me my fucking sanity, honey,” he shot back, eyes sharp.
Which would’ve been intimidating if he weren’t wearing that Kiss the Cook apron.
Your mom was right. There’s nothing romantic about cooking together. Move the fuck away.
“You know what?” you said. “Let’s split up to cover more ground. I’ll go left, and you go fuck yourself.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” he grinned. “Just don’t ogle me when I pound my meat. I’d know myself for the whole course of the meal.”
He’s so hot. If only he shut up.
“Calling yourself a meal when you’ve had an STD?” you said, setting the fried cutlet aside. “Okay, food poisoning.”
He frowned. “I’d have you know I’m very healthy and clean. So you’re safe.”
“No one said I’d fuck you.”
“Fuck you.”
“Gladly,” you replied. “But after we finish this, I’ll have my way with you later.”
“…..”
“So,” he said, scanning your apartment. “You live like this while working at a million-dollar company?”
“I live alone,” you shrugged, cutting the sandwich in half and handing it to him. “No reason for a big place. I do need a spacious kitchen, though.”
He nodded, biting into it. “Fair. What about a boyfriend? Girlfriend?”
“Don’t have time for that.”
“It’s alright,” you added. “At least I get to rest on weekends. What about you? Hobbies?”
He hummed. “I dissociate. I play games. And lately, my bed is the only thing calling me.”
“Oh,” you said. “Then… hookups?”
He leaned closer, smirking. “Are you offering?”
“Hell no,” you said immediately. “I don’t have the energy.”
“For what?”
You gestured at him.
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Half of your personality is just symptoms.”
“Your mom.”
“My mom passed away four years ago,” he said simply.
Well. That rhymed.
Silence stretched between you.
You swallowed. “…Sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay,” he said, finishing his sandwich. “It’s been a while. I still miss her.”
Another quiet beat.
“So…” you said carefully, “wanna catch up on Bridgerton?”
...
That night, you both sat on the couch with a noticeable gap between you, a cushion clutched to your chest like a shield.
The room was dim, lit only by the TV. Surprisingly, he was fully invested in Bridgerton. What was supposed to be one episode turned into a full marathon.
For some reason, it felt intimate.
Jeon Wonwoo, your coworker. The man who stole your lunch for a week. Also, the cause of your suffering.
Insufferable. Infuriating. Hot as fuck.
It would be a lie to say you’d never found him attractive. Well, except for that foul mouth. Not that you were any better.
The problem with this show was the sex scenes.
You’d completely forgotten how many there were.
Every time one came on, you felt the urge to skip it but Wonwoo didn’t move. He watched with the same unreadable expression, completely composed like poker-faced.
It was impossible to tell what he was thinking inside his head.
Another scene started.
Just great.
You were very aware of how you shifted slightly, how your fingers tightened around the cushion, how your knees pressed together. The small breath you exhaled without meaning to.
The couch shifted.
He turned his head toward you.
He definitely noticed and yet, he said nothing. That somehow made it worse.
Because he remembered the way you talked to him.
The insults. The degradation. The way you never backed down.
Fuck.
Maybe that’s what did it.
Maybe Jeon Wonwoo was turned on by the way you spoke to him like you weren’t afraid.
“Do you want to make out and make noises?” he asked suddenly, looking at you like it was the most normal thing in the world.
You blinked.
For a moment, your brain short-circuited.
Then you thought: when else are you going to get the chance to make out with a disgustingly attractive man like this?
Exactly.
“Thought you’d never ask,” you muttered, dropping the cushion before swinging a leg over his lap.
“Hell yeah,” he breathed.
His hands found your hips instantly.
The kiss wasn’t gentle.
It was messy. Almost clumsy at first, teeth knocking, breaths uneven but it quickly deepened. His mouth moved slowly against yours, deliberate now. One hand slid up to the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, holding you there.
You let out a soft sound against his mouth without meaning to.
Your body pressed closer.
He let out a low groan, restrained but it vibrated against your lips. You could feel his hardness pressed against yours, and it’s big.
When his tongue brushed yours, it wasn’t rushed. It was slow and intentional. Like he was testing how much you’d let him have.
You were already giving too much.
Time blurred.
When you finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. Just enough to breathe. A thin string of saliva caught in the dim light before breaking.
He looked up at you, and whatever was in his eyes now wasn’t smugness.
It was hunger.
Like he hadn’t had enough.
His head leaned closer until the tip of his nose brushed yours as he murmured, “…I want you,” he breathed. “Please. I need to have you tonight.”
Your heart pounded at the sound of his voice. The way his ragged breath fanned against your lips.
His hand wandered, softly caressing your back before sliding lower to grip your ass, making you jump slightly.
He grinned at your reaction. “Is that a yes?” he chuckled lowly, squeezing more firmly this time, drawing a gasp from you as your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders.
“Cute,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your lips before looking up at you again. “…I need that pretty mouth of yours working now, since you’ve been such a smartass with me the whole time.”
Something about his piercing gaze made the heat pool low in your stomach. God, his commanding voice alone was enough to make you melt like chocolate left out too long under the sun.
You’re not a masochist, of course.
His thumb traced slowly over your lips before pressing gently, parting them as he slid the pad of his thumb just inside. His voice dropped.
“Get on your knees. Now.”
Did you listen? Hell yeah.
“Normally, I wouldn’t get on my knees for a man, but here I am,” you muttered as you moved between his thighs, while he spread his legs slightly, working at his belt and the sleek pants he’d worn earlier to dinner.
“I’m flattered to be the first man,” he chuckled. You could see the damp, slight pre-cum stain against his boxer. Then pulling the underwear down to reveal his shaft.
Giving a few pumps as he strokes his dick, groaning as his head goes over the couch. “Fuck, now go make use of that pretty mouth, baby.”
You breathe out, seeing that shafts make you hesitate a bit. Okay, that was a real dick; you take that back for insulting and calling his stupid dick fake.
Slowly wrapping your delicate hands around his shaft, you glance up to see his head thrown over the couch as you give a kiss on the tip of his cockhead.
His breath hitched as he watched you kneel between his legs, those soft eyes looking up at him with a mix of nervousness and determination. The sight alone made his cock throb harder in your gentle grip.
"Fuck..." he breathed out, his head tilting back against the couch cushion as he felt your lips brush against his sensitive tip.
His fingers instinctively tangled in your long wavy brown hair, not pulling but just... holding on. Grounding himself. The way your hands wrapped around his shaft made him stroke himself slower, more deliberately, letting you set the pace.
"You're so fucking pretty like this," he murmured, his voice rough and low as he watched your every move. "But you know what... I don't want your hands right now."
He gently guided your head down, his cock pressing against your lips as he guided you to take him in. Not all at once, he didn't want to make you gag or feel uncomfortable. Just... enough to feel you.
"Mmm... that's it," he groaned softly, his other hand moving to cup the back of your head possessively. "Use that pretty mouth of yours now. I want to hear from you."
His hips gave a subtle thrust, not demanding but encouraging. His eyes stayed locked on you, watching the way your lips stretched around him, the wet sounds filling the room.
"Christ... you're incredible," he breathed, his thumb stroking along your jawline tenderly despite the rough situation.
You stiffen slightly, feeling his whole length around your mouth. Slowly making your jaw work as you bobbed your head, sucking him good.
He stopped you mid-blowjob, pulling you up by your waist with surprising strength. The way you were panting, lips swollen from worshipping his cock, made him nearly lose control entirely.
"Fuck... you look so good like this," he growled, his voice strained as he guided you toward the bed.
Setting you down gently on the mattress, he immediately followed, positioning himself between your thighs. His hands pushed your skirt up slowly, deliberately, savoring how exposed you were for him.
"Shit…" he breathed, his eyes darkening as he stared at your glistening core. "So fucking wet for me already."
Without hesitation, he leaned down and buried his face between your legs, his tongue immediately seeking out your clit. The taste of you made him groan against your sensitive flesh.
"Mmm... fuck, you taste so good," he murmured against you, his tongue working in slow, deliberate circles. "Let me eat you properly before I take you."
His fingers gripped your thighs gently but firmly, spreading you wider as he feasted on you with renewed focus, determined to make you come on his tongue first.
You gasped sharply, your palm flying to your mouth, feeling his mouth dive in like a starved man. He knows exactly what you need to push you over the edge. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close.
He laughs against your core, feeling your fingers tangle in his hair. It made him groan with satisfaction. The way your body trembled beneath his mouth, your gasps growing louder.
It was fucking intoxicating.
He continues to lap on your cunt, wanting you to come undone by his tongue. He could feel you’re coming close as he works closer and closer to the edge. His fingers thrust in and out of you, over and over again.
“Fuck— you’re so close already,” he murmured against your soaked folds, his tongue working faster now. “Let go baby, let me taste it.”
You could feel your orgasm coming closer as he kept pumping into you. When you finally came, his fingers still pumping inside you, he felt your walls clench around him rhythmically. The sight of you completely undone, head thrown back as pleasure washed over you— it made him nearly lose control too.
You swore you almost saw stars and later, he was going to make you see the entire fucking galaxy once he was inside you.
“God, you look so beautiful like this,” he breathed, slowly pulling his fingers out of you with a soft, wet sound. “So fucking beautiful when you let go.”
You gave him a weak tap, blinking as you tried to catch your breath. God, you hadn’t felt this good in a long time. Or maybe no one had ever made you feel this good.
“Hold up—” you breathed meekly. “Let me… catch my… fucking hell…”
It was embarrassing to let him see you like this. Kind of pathetic, honestly, to get so worked up just from being eaten out.
Wonwoo chuckled, settling himself between your thighs as he looked down at you, almost menacingly. “Take your time, sweet pea. I’m not done with you yet.”
Then, surprisingly, he said something reasonable. “Just to make sure—give me a safe word.”
You blinked, finally propping yourself up on your elbows against the mattress as you considered it.
“Strawberry,” you said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Make it shorter. Do you think you can say that before I pound you like dough?”
You huffed. “Cherry, then.”
“Fair enough.” He leaned in to kiss you again but stopped midway. “I don’t have condoms, though…”
And you weren’t on pills. You couldn’t blame him. No one had expected this to happen.
You checked the drawer beside your bed. It had probably been sitting there for two years, back when you never expected there’d be a man in your life again.
When you handed it to him, he bristled, letting out a laugh and flashing a cocky grin. “This isn’t my size, sugarplum. It’s alright—I’ll pull out immediately,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your temple then running his hands along your curves possessively.
He sheathed himself slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. There was no hesitation in his movements, yet something raw, almost vulnerable flickered across his expression.
“I’m clean,” he murmured, his voice more serious now. “And I’ve never done this without protection before. So… yeah.” His gaze softened just slightly. “I’m trusting you, too.”
You let out a small whimper, feeling himself positioned at your entrance, his cock pressing against your wet heat. His thumbs framed your face, cradling it gently.
“Tell me you want this,” he said softly, eyes searching yours. “Tell me you want me inside you bare.” His hips gave a small thrust, just teasing waiting for your answer.
Almost cussing out at him for purposely made you feel this way, you breathe out almost pleadingly despite your bite. “...you asshole, stop playing—” you sharply inhaled when he thrusted his cock inside you.
He felt you gasp as he pushed inside, his cock stretching you open slowly.
Fucking hell.
The way you clenched around him immediately made him grit his teeth, might as well come inside you at this point.
“Fuck…” he breathed out, his hands moving to grip your hips. “So tight…fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He didn’t slam in, he took his time, letting you adjust to him. The way your walls squeezed him rhythmically was almost too much, but he forced himself to stay controlled.
And you—you never felt so fucking amazing right now. You think you might ascend to heaven. Eyes rolling over with your grip tightens on the sheets.
“Still with me, sweet pea?” he asked, voice strained as he hilted himself completely inside you.
You nodded slowly at him, murmured softly, “...yeah…you can move faster now.”
His fingers dug into your skin slightly, not quite bruising but definitely holding on tight. Breath hitched when you finally gave him permission, that single nod making his control slip dangerously. The way your walls were already clenching around him was driving him insane.
“Thank fuck,” he breathed out, hips already starting to move. He pulled back slowly, feeling every inch of you squeeze around him then thrust forward with more purpose. The wet sounds of your tangled bodies filled the room.
Your poor cat, Wonton, is already scurrying away somewhere.
He could feel your body trembling beneath him, and it made something possessive ignite in him. He wanted every gasp, every moan and every shudder of pleasure entirely for himself.
His thrusts became faster, more desperate as his breath came in harsh pants against your neck. “Tell me how it feels,” he demanded softly, one hand moving to cup your chin, fracking you to look at him. "Tell me when you’re close.”
His cock throbbed inside you, pre-cum leaking out but he was determined to make this last. To make you feel as good as you made him feel earlier with that perfect, needy mouth.
“You’re killing me,” he admitted breathlessly, his forehead resting against yours. “But I’m not pulling out until I see you completely destroyed…”
...on my cock.” you heard him finished, his voice thick with need.
God, you can’t even talk properly with him. Did he just fucked you this good?
His hips snapped against yours, making you gasp. The change in rhythm was almost punishing— harder, faster and deeper. Each thrust he gave, sent pleasure spiraling through your waves, making your toes curl and your visions blur.
“Fuck…fuck— Wonwoo! You cried out, back arching off the bed slightly as he drove into you relentlessly.
One of his hands moved from your hip to your hair, fisting it rough;y and tilting your head back. His lips crashed against yours in a desperate, messy kiss that tasted like desperation and need.
“Say my name while I fuck you.” He demanded between kisses, his other hand moving to your throat, just barely pressing, not choking but claiming.
“Wonwoo!” you sobbed into the kiss, voice breaking.
It was all too much. His mouth on yours, hands on you and the way he was fucking you like he wanted to imprint himself on your very soul. Your orgasm built faster than you could handle, climbing higher and higher until you were breathless and dizzy.
“I’m—oh god— I’m—” you couldn’t even finish the sentence as pleasure crashed over you in waves, your inner walls clamping down around him.
He felt you come, your body shaking and clenching around his cock, and it was his undoing. With a guttural groan, he buried himself deep inside then immediately pulled out as he promised. His remains spilled on your stomach, giving a few last pumps as he stays there.
“Fuck… fuck…” he breathed against your neck, his body collapsing onto yours as aftershocks rippled through both of you.
You stayed like that for a while, limbs tangled, your body slowly growing heavy with exhaustion.
But goddamn. That was the best sex you’d ever had.
(You’d only had, like, two back in school, but whatever.)
Just when you thought he was finished, he lifted his head and looked down at you before finally shrugging off the dress shirt that had been hanging open. He pulled it over his broad shoulders, revealing the hard planes of his chest and the lean muscle beneath.
God, you silently thanked the heavens for giving you an asshole that looked like him.
Grinning cockily, he hovered over you, his voice dropping into a husky murmur. “Oh, I’m not done yet, honeybun. That was just the appetizer. We still have the full course and dessert.”
Okay, maybe you should’ve bought the condoms and pills when you were grocery shopping with him.
“Now strip bare before I devour you for real.” He smacked your ass and squeezed, making you yelp.
The rest was history.
The next morning. Thank heavens it was Saturday. You would not have survived this if it were Monday and a workweek.
You fumbled beneath the comforter, still half-asleep. Then it hit you.
You’d been dicked down by the most insufferable, food-thieving man alive.
Slowly, you sat up, immediately feeling the soreness between your thighs.
Thanks a lot to that bastard for bottoming you out so good.
And you loved every single second of it.
Noticing the empty space beside you, your gaze drifted across the room—only to find him in nothing but his boxers, crouched beside Wonton, your cat. It looked like he’d already fed her.
Wow.
The sight of him watching your cat eat was almost… innocent.
Was that really the same person who pounded you like a beast last night?
Whatever.
You looked down and realized you were wearing his dress shirt. He probably cleaned you up before you passed out.
Pushing yourself out of bed, you shuffled toward the kitchen. You were starving, might as well whip something up.
He noticed you rummaging through the fridge and followed after you.
“Morning,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist as you worked at the counter. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Me,” you joked.
He immediately groped your chest, making you yelp as you slapped his hands away.
He didn’t look sorry at all. “You said it. I’m just taking what I want,” he grinned against your ear, pressing a soft kiss there.
“Let’s get married,” he suddenly said. “I need you for a lifetime.”
You hummed thoughtfully while whisking the pancake batter. “For what? The food or the sex?”
“Both,” he confirmed easily. “I already paid for the groceries. I’m basically your wallet at this point. Marry me and you get both—my dick and my money.”
You had to stifle a laugh.
His arms tightened around you as he added, “Then I can finally fuck you without using those damn condoms and pills.”
That made you turn to look at him, eyebrow raised as he flashed that stupidly annoying grin.
“Was that a threat?”
“A promise,” he corrected. “We’d make a great pear. And I wouldn’t mind putting a few little peanuts in you.”
He nuzzled your nape like an oversized cat.
You stared at him in disbelief.
“You’re crazy.”
“Yeah,” he said smoothly. “I’m nuts for you, sweetie pie.”
Since that day, you kept seeing Wonwoo during lunch breaks at work.
With a price, of course. The lunch arrangement.
For some reason, you couldn’t help but notice the change in his personality. Well… he’d been a lot nicer lately.
And it scared the shit out of you.
You’d rather have him insufferable as always, wearing that stupid cocky grin.
Okay, maybe not. That was too annoying. You weren’t sure you could restrain your fist from connecting with his majestic face.
“Have you been sitting in all that sugar you bake with? Because you’ve got a sweet butt,” Wonwoo suddenly said.
A loud crash echoed through the kitchen as you dropped the baking tray in your hands, staring at him in horror.
Noticing your mortified expression, he took a step back. “Sorry. Too forward?”
He’d been crashing at your place again, insisting on driving you home as an excuse to spend more time together.
“Have you been laying in sugar, sweetheart?” he tried again. “Because you’re looking pretty sweet. Is that better?” he asked, almost apologetically.
You honestly didn’t know what to say, setting the meatloaf aside.
“I mean…” you started slowly, “…you always smack my ass whenever you get the chance, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do it when I’m about to get into the passenger seat.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “I think all of you are sweet, really.” Then he added, “I can tell your parents were bakers—they’d have to be to make a cutie pie like you.”
You blinked, finally turning to look at him. “…Well, my mom was a baker. And my brother owns a café, so yeah. Technically.”
“Wait, really?” he asked, momentarily dropping the act. “Why didn’t I know that?”
“You never asked,” you replied simply, waving him off. “By the way, what’s with all these cheesy pick-up lines? Where did you even learn them?”
Completely ignoring your question, he continued, “Are you bread? Because you’re the loaf of my life.”
Your lips twitched. “Okay, now you’re up to something. Did you lose a bet?”
“I think I’ve got cavities, because you’re too sweet.”
You chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter in your pink frilly apron. “If you’re trying to seduce me into baking cookies, you could’ve just asked.”
“I don’t know about cookies,” he shot back smoothly, “but you and I would bake a great couple.”
Your smile widened as you pushed off the counter and slowly walked toward him. “Oh? Is that what you think?”
He audibly gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he watched you approach.
“Did you just come out of the oven?” he continued weakly. “Because you’re hot.”
You let out a soft giggle, stopping in front of him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “I don’t know if I’m scared of you or attracted to you.”
His hands naturally found your waist. “Marry me, please. Let me be your husband. I’ll take care of you… and our little peanut. Soon.” He nuzzled into your neck.
Smiling, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Hey, Won,” you murmured, “if you want something sweet, there’s plenty of sugar right here.”
You tapped your lips playfully. He didn’t hesitate before pressing his mouth to yours.
A moment later, you both pulled back, laughing and giggling like idiots, foreheads resting against each other.
“By the way,” you asked softly, “where did you even learn those pick-up lines?”
He paused, thinking for a second.
“Jeonghan,” he said simply.
Ah.
Of course.
You never liked him. Same department as Wonwoo…just more obnoxious.
He definitely put him up to this on purpose.
One thing you actually learned from your mother's advice that surprisingly worked was that the fastest way into a man’s heart was through his stomach.
Turns out, he stopped stealing your food. He found something sweeter to keep instead.
FIN.
A/N: once again, thanks a lot for staying until the end, apples!! finally we've come to the end. if you're interested in more of my fics, feel free to check my page and my masterlist, if any of you guys are interested include in my taglist, feel free to sign in the form link.
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The Wedding Date - Chwe Hansol Vernon
Pairing: neighbor!vernon x f!reader
Summary: when your ex invites you to his wedding, your recluse neighbor, hansol, offers to go with you as your fake boyfriend. what starts as a meaningless weekend trip, turns into something so much more.
W.C: 12.4k
CW: strangers to best friends to lovers, starts kind of angsty but then turns pretty fluffy and stays fluffy the rest of the time, heavy romcom vibes, reader and vernon are frequently smoking, alcohol consumption, swearing, seungcheol is your ex and kind of an ass (sorry cheol), fake dating trope, kissing, reader and vernon have a lot of fun banter and they're just overall v cutesy together hehe hardcore mutual pining as well bc they're down bad for each other i fear
A/N: got the idea for this after a dream i had um so…yeah. do with that what you will LOL the ending is lowkey a little rushed, but i'm still satisifed with it i think. - dividers by @uzmacchiato
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It was a quiet evening, with nothing but the sound of the cars below the terrace passing by every several minutes. This time of night was your favorite, because it meant the noise of the world was off. Most people hated being alone with their thoughts, but it was the only way you could cope with the insomnia that usually took over your nights. Thinking, processing—working through whatever the day has given to you.
You are hugging your knees against your chest, feeling the cold metal of the fire escape against your bare neck as you lean your head against the brick of your apartment building. There is a warm breeze passing through. Closing your eyes, you feel it fan your cheeks as you draw in a deep breath.
Today wasn't much different than any other day, other than the fact that you received an invitation to a wedding you didn't want to attend.
Which, fine, in hindsight, that made the day pretty shitty.
It was one thing when your ex broke up with you, but for him to have the audacity to send you that invite just crushed you. You'd known he had moved on for a while, now. Seungcheol was never shy about showing off his significant others online, as you were once familiar with. When he began posting with his new girlfriend (Yuna, you think her name was), it was easy to deal with because he didn't live near you anymore. But then that pretty little envelope was stuffed into your mailbox today, and you weren't even sure why he felt inclined to send the invite. Did he feel bad for you? Was it some kind of pity invite, seeing as life hadn't been as kind to you since the breakup that it was to him?
When you open your eyes again, you hear a slight rattling coming from above you. Turning your head up, you notice your upstairs neighbor, Chwe Hansol, climbing out of his window. You'd never spoken to him much outside of a quick nod in the hallway, or typical "weather" small talk in the elevator. But you did know that he was a fellow insomniac. This had become an unspoken routine between the two of you: you'd climb out first, spend a few minutes alone. Hansol would follow suit, light a cigarette, and offer you one. Then you'd just...sit in silence. You were always the first to leave, the second that dawn started to break. Hansol always stayed a few minutes after you left before retreating to his own apartment.
Your gaze turns back to the alley below, and you can hear the flicker of Hansol's lighter. When the smell of the smoke invades your senses, you hear him cough slightly.
"You want a cigarette?" He asks hoarsely. He had either just woken up or been crying before joining you. You don't know him well enough to make a verdict, however.
You push yourself to your feet and begin climbing up the stairs to the landing by his apartment. He passes you a cigarette, then quietly lights it. When you press the butt to your lips, you sit. Your legs hang off the landing as you lean forward against the rail.
"You look rough," Hansol observes aloud.
You take a slow drag of the cigarette, then look over to him. "What happened to silence?"
"I don't want silence tonight." He answers. "Is that a problem?"
"I guess not." You shrug. The smoke curls out of your nostrils as you exhale and look ahead again. "Yeah, it was a rough day. What about you?"
"Same." Hansol presses his lips into a thin line.
The silence returns, and in a way, you're thankful for it. It's not that you had anything against Hansol, but this was unfamiliar. Talking wasn't something the two of you ever did, so why now?
You take another drag of the cigarette, letting the breeze take the smoke away with it. After a few moments, Hansol sits next to you. His shoulder bumps yours momentarily before he quickly moves away.
"What's your name?"
You laugh, flicking the ash off the end of your cigarette. It falls through the fire escape as you look over to him.
"I know your name." You comment. "All these months of living next to each other, and you never figured it out?"
"I guess I never paid attention before." He admits.
Rolling your eyes, you give him your name. Hansol repeats it, like he's engraining it into his memory.
"Pretty." He mutters. "It suits you."
You choose to ignore the compliment. "Hansol suits you. I guess, as much as I can assume."
"I guess," Hansol repeats as a smile creeps up onto his face. "You want to talk about your shitty day?"
The truth was, talking about it would be really nice. But you didn't know Hansol well enough to feel like you could dump your issues onto him. So you opt to keep things vague. At least for now.
"I heard from someone today." You spoke slowly. "I, uh, haven't heard from them for a while. It kind of felt like a slap to the face, you know?"
He hums in agreement. "I get it. Did you say anything back?"
"It wasn't like that." You clarify. Sighing, you decide ‘fuck it’. "My ex is getting married. He sent me an invitation, and I don't know why."
That gets Hansol to look at you. His eyes are widened in amusement, and you almost want to wipe the dumb grin off his face.
"Fuck," he laughs in disbelief. "What an ass. I'm sorry."
You shrug. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Why was your day shitty?" You clarify. "You can't expect me to share and think you'll get away with not sharing as well. You're the one who wanted to talk."
"Right." He mutters. He reaches behind the two of you, grabbing the ashtray. You both put your cigarettes out, then turn your gazes back to the alleyway. "My girlfriend broke up with me. Work sucked, too. I guess the universe has it out for me right now."
"For both of us." You grunt. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about the breakup?"
"Not really." He says casually. It's like he's unaffected by it, which seems odd to you. You push the thought away, though. "It was a matter of time. We weren't good for each other. I guess I was expecting to do it before she did, though."
You scoff at that. "What, you got a bruised ego now?"
"So what if I do?" Hansol retorts. "Besides, it seems like you're not much better off. Your ex invited you to a wedding–one that isn't with you, by the way."
It's quiet for a second, and then you laugh. It catches Hansol by surprise, but you couldn't help it. It bubbles out of you before you have the chance to stop it.
"Fuck." You manage through your laughter. "What a bunch of losers we are, huh?"
That elicits a laugh from Hansol. "Well, she called me a scumbag, but loser works, too."
"They're interchangeable." You fire back as you look over to him. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm sorry you had a shitty day."
"Yeah." Hansol sighs, meeting your gaze. "You too."
The two of you fell back into your normal routine after that night. A week passed without any conversation, but there was a shift in the air: like you both understood each other a little bit more, now.
Meanwhile, the RSVP on your table remained. It is gradually approaching the date to send it back, and you aren't yet sure which path to take. The idea of asking Hansol his thoughts left as quickly as it came. You weren't sure if the conversation from last week warranted a pass to ask him for life advice–especially when it was about your ex.
The rattling of a window pulls you from your thoughts. You glance at the clock on your stove.
6:43 pm.
He was early...eight hours early. Your feet begin to move before you can think twice about it. The window sticks a moment before you get it fully pushed up. You're greeted by Hansol walking down to your window, looking flustered and angry.
"Can I rant?" He asks, a bit winded from making the descent to your apartment.
You blink a few times. "Sure."
Stepping to the side, Hansol hesitates before climbing into your apartment. As you close the window again, you catch him studying the inside of your home. You're suddenly very aware of the fact that you let a stranger into your living room, and begin to pace back to your kitchen table. Back to the invitation.
"Nice place." He comments.
"Thanks." You mutter. You like to keep things minimal. The place consists mostly of white decor and furniture, with a few pops of color here and there. Everything is always kept clean, and clutter is always tucked away.
Hansol clears his throat before collapsing onto your couch. "I'm sorry for just showing up. I don't really have any friends in the area anymore, and I just need to get this out of my system."
"Don't worry about it." You wave him off. "Do you want something to drink?"
He thinks for a moment. "What do you have?"
You pad into your kitchen, then open the rickety door on your fridge. It squeaks slightly as you peek inside.
"I have sparkling water." You announce. "I also have soju and–"
"I'll take the soju." He quickly cuts in. Then adds, "please."
Grabbing two bottles, you kick the door closed again, then meander back towards him. He happily takes the drink from you as you sit on the opposite side of the couch. You both drink in silence, almost as if the two of you were allowing the space to be made before approaching the topic. When Hansol pulls the bottle away from his lips, you see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows.
"My ex called me today." He finally says. "Not for any reason. Just to pick an argument."
"Over what, exactly?" You glance at him. He runs a hand through his hair, then takes another drink.
"I still have some of her shit at my apartment." He explains, meeting your eyes. "I told her last week to come get it. When she ignored my texts about it, I stuffed it all into a garbage bag. I didn't want to look at it anymore, you know?"
You nod to let him know you're listening. He continues.
"Anyways, she finally came over about three hours ago to get it." His gaze shifts down to his lap. "She called me fifteen minutes ago to accuse me of throwing one of her stupid shirts away. Then, she went on a whole tangent about how I never took care of her things and how careless I am. She told me that my carelessness was what drove her away from me, and some other bullshit after that. She barely let me get a word in, and just hung up before I could say anything."
"Jesus." You grumble, taking a sip of your drink.
"Yeah." Hansol scoffs.
The silence returns, and this time, you're not sure if you should offer him anything else. He's sunken lower into your couch, like he's trying to be swallowed whole by the cushions. His expression is blank, and you're not entirely sure what to make of it or him right now. You take another swig of your soju, then set your half-empty bottle on the coffee table in front of the couch.
"Um, I know we don't really know each other," you lean back, looking over to him. His attention is still on his lap. "But I think it's good you're not in that relationship anymore. Not that it's my place to say, but you shouldn't be with someone who talks to you like that."
Hansol lifts his head towards you, then takes another drink as he holds eye contact. When he pulls the bottle away again, he drags his tongue across his bottom lip. You're not sure you like the way he's looking at you. There’s something behind his eyes that you aren’t quite sure how to read. Shifting slightly, you decide to change the topic.
"If it's any consolation, things aren't much better for me, either," you laugh bitterly. "I have to RSVP by the end of the week for my ex's wedding."
Hansol laughs. "You're considering going?"
"I don't know." You say softly. Your shift in tone causes his laughter to slow, as he realizes that the thought was actually weighing on you. You groan, then lean back against the cushions. "I just feel like he's expecting me not to be there. He knows that I've been dealt a shitty deck of cards since he left, but my pride wants to prove that things aren't as bad as they really are."
"So, what, you want to go pretend like things are okay?" Hansol questions.
"Maybe?" You roll your head to look at him. He is already staring at you. "I don't know. I don't care if everyone else knows how bad things are, but I just want him to think they're good. Kind of like rubbing it in his face that I'm fine without him."
Hansol pauses. "You're not?"
"Obviously not." You roll your eyes.
Your voice catches slightly, so you will yourself to look up at the ceiling. You were not about to cry in front of a man you hardly knew. It's Hansol's turn to be quiet. The gears in his head were practically audible; you could tell he was trying to think of something to say. You didn't necessarily need advice, but talking about it helps. Even if you're not sharing the full story.
"Would it help if you had someone go with you?" He finally asks.
You hadn't thought about that. Even if you did, though, you didn't exactly have friends to ask. There was Jun, your cubicle neighbor. You've gotten coffee with him a few times, but never enough to call him a 'friend'. Aside from that, your best friend, Joshua, recently moved back to the States to be with his family. Between the two of them, you were pretty isolated.
"Maybe." You respond. "But, much like you, I don't really have anyone around here. I don't have anyone I could ask."
He shrugs. "I could go with you, if you want?"
It's your turn to laugh. You sit up, then shift your body so you're facing him. He quickly sits up in response.
"As far as I know, you could be a serial killer." You quip, grabbing your soju again.
"Please," Hansol scoffs, but there's hardly any bite to it. Instead, a coy smile is painted across his face. "If I were a serial killer, I would've killed you by now."
"Hm," you hum as the soju trickles down your throat. You swallow, then rest the bottle in your lap. "Not a coaxing type, huh?"
"Nah," he shakes his head. "I think I'd be right to the point about it. I mean, why coax if I'm just gonna kill you anyway?"
The smile that creeps its way onto your face is easy. If you'd known Hansol was this fun, maybe you would've taken the chance to talk to him sooner. Then again, maybe that was just the alcohol talking. You were starting to feel the slight buzz as you took another drink.
"I mean it, though." He adds. "I know it's, ah, weird to go with someone you just met, but, I dunno, we could play it up, I think."
You press your brows together. "What do you mean?"
Hansol clears his throat, then shifts his body to face yours. "Well, you want to make it seem like you've got your shit together. Right?"
You nod.
"So, if I go with, we could both clean up real nice," he explains. "I could pretend to be your new boyfriend for the weekend. It gets me away from my ex, and paints a pretty little picture for yours."
The words don't form right away. It wasn't exactly a bad idea, but would it even work? You haven't really been secretive about the fact that you've been a sinking ship for the past couple of years, but you've also never been one to post your relationships online–so it could work in that capacity.
Would Seungcheol even buy it?
As if Hansol is reading your thoughts, he leans in slightly. Your knees brush. "You're overthinking it. It'll be foolproof. I'm a great actor, you know?"
"In case you’ve forgotten, we just met." You deadpan. "Plus, don't you think it'll be, like, weird traveling with someone you don't know?"
"Only if you make it weird." He shrugs. "It's obviously your call."
You take a moment to absorb Hansol's appearance. Part of you was really questioning if he truly could clean up well–you'd only ever seen him wearing the same pair of ratted, grey sweatpants and matching hoodie. You were also pretty positive the beanie he tends to wear had never been replaced. Did he own any other clothes? Now that you really thought about it, what did he even do for work? Hobbies? Obviously, he's had at least one relationship before. If you decide to take him up on his offer, you guys would really have to get to know each other.
Because right now, you knew nothing.
Finally, you ask, "What's your favorite color?"
He falters for a moment. "Why?"
"If you're supposed to be my fake boyfriend, I need to know you." You counter. "I don't know you, Hansol."
"Oh, right." He nods. He tosses the last of his soju back, then sets the bottle down on the table. "Um, well, I like all colors, truthfully. I guess I lean towards red and black the most."
You don't even realize you're making a face until he smiles in amusement.
"What's wrong with those?" He argues. "What’s yours?"
"Pink." You answer quickly. "I like blue, too. But pink has always been my favorite."
"Pink." He repeats. "I could've guessed that."
"Oh yeah?" You quip. "On what grounds?"
Hansol kicks his legs up, making himself at home on your couch. Without hesitation, he stretches his legs across your lap, as if he'd done it a million times prior to this moment. You should be weirded out, but much to your own surprise, you don't mind it too much. You find yourself warming up to Hansol's easy personality as you finish off your own soju and set the bottle beside his.
"You're always wearing something..." he trails off, folding his arms across his chest, "...pretty."
"Pretty?" You raise your eyebrows at him.
His eyes widen momentarily. "No, not like that. I just mean, you're always wearing something so girly."
You hum. "I am a girl, you know."
"I know." He groans. "God, I just mean that your wardrobe is so frilly and bright. Do you even know how surprised I was when I found out you smoked?"
That was an argument you couldn't counter. He wasn't wrong: your wardrobe has always consisted primarily of dresses or skirts. God forbid a girl likes to dress nicely. Even your pajamas, which Hansol often found you in, were 'frilly', as he worded it. You like matching sets and very seldom wear mismatched clothes. Nighttime was no exception to that. Even now, sprawled across your couch, you were donning a tank top and pants set you had gotten from a small boutique a few weeks ago.
"I'm a woman of many surprises." You wink as you kick your own legs up onto the coffee table. "I got into smoking back in high school. I guess I thought I could try a rebellious phase, but it didn't work. The nicotine addiction ended up staying, though. Seungcheol hated it."
"Seungchoel?" Hansol frowns. "Is that your ex?"
"Yeah." You sigh. "But you'll meet him later. You're not missing out on anything exciting, really."
Hansol perks up at that. "Later?" He asks. "So, we're doing this?"
You stare back at him, silently cursing yourself for the slip of tongue. But really, it couldn't be all that bad. Conversation seems to flow easily with him, and this trip could be a good opportunity to get the closure you fully need. Having company would be nice to handle any fallout that might happen afterward, too.
What's the worst that could happen?
"What the hell?" You sigh. "Sure. You can be my date to this wedding."
Hansol bites back a smile. "Cool."
You were juggling a handful of groceries when you felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket. You curse slightly before dropping everything onto your kitchen table, not even caring that your new bag of apples just fell onto the floor. You push the door shut with your hip, then pull your phone out.
Seungcheol.
He must've gotten the RSVP. Your breath hitches as you hold the device to your ear. "Um, hello?"
"Hey." He exhales, like he wasn't sure if you'd really answer. You couldn't blame him for that, though. You weren't even sure when you last spoke to him. An awkward silence fills the air between the two of you, as you try to debate whether you let him talk himself silly, or if you try to manage a conversation. He beats you to the decision.
"Uh, Yuna and I got the RSVP!" He exclaims a little too loudly. "A plus one, huh? Is Joshua coming?"
"No, he moved back to California." You answer. "I'm bringing my boyfriend."
There's no response. You smirk in victory as you begin to clean up your groceries and put them away. There's a light tap on your window, where Hansol is waving back at you. You silently wave him in, as Seungcheol draws in a deep breath.
"You're seeing someone?" He questions. "That's...wow. Nice."
"Yeah, I am." You respond as Hansol walks over to you. He's carrying something under his arm, but you can't tell what it is. It looks like some kind of clothes. He gestures to your phone, and you mouth 'Seungcheol' to him. He chuckles.
"What's his name?" Seungcheol asks.
You roll your eyes. "It's on the RSVP, Cheol. Hansol. If you don't need anything else, he just got here. I'd like to spend time with him."
"Oh, sure." He almost sounds disappointed, but you don't let yourself dwell on it. "Yeah, uh, we'll see you in a month, then."
"See ya." You hang up before he can try to say anything else, then toss the phone onto your table.
"No pajamas?" He gestures to you.
"Hansol, it's only four." You reply. "I just got off work. I see you’re already comfy, though."
He grins at that. "Yeah, I had the day off. I found some old suits, and I didn't know what you were wearing. I figured we needed to match."
"What do you even do for work?" You question, carrying a handful of bags into your kitchen. Hansol hesitates before grabbing the remaining bags and following behind you.
"I manage a skate shop." He answers. "The one downtown? It's next to that coffee shop that Mrs. Lee owns."
"Oh, I think I know what you're talking about." You nod, picturing it in your head already. The downtown area has always been pretty worn and grungy-looking, but it's also one of the oldest strips in the city. You wouldn't have imagined Hansol owning his own business, but you were pleasantly surprised with that answer. A skate shop suited him, too.
"What about you?" He asks, setting his bags down on the counter beside him. He begins to unload the groceries as you put them away. You fall into a good rhythm before you look over to him.
"I don't do anything exciting." You grin. "I'm a secretary for a law firm."
"Gross." Hansol teases. "Have you always wanted to do that?"
You shake your head. "Not necessarily. But it pays well, and I get my weekends off."
He nods as he watches you put the last of the items away. You pat down your dress, then look over to him. He's staring absently, like he isn't sure what to say next.
"So, uh, your suits?" You remind him. "What do you have?"
"Oh." He looks under his arm, where the clothes were still neatly tucked away. "Right. Yeah, I haven't worn these in forever. I hope they still fit."
"I can alter them if you need." You shrug. "My mom taught me how to sew, you know."
The two of you make your way to the living room again, settling on the same couch you sat in several nights ago.
"I didn't know that." Hansol comments. "But I guess I could see it. It fits you."
When you were a kid, your mother was a firm believer in teaching you basic life skills. You’d learned everything between cooking, sewing, gardening, baking–whatever she deemed would be necessary to live in case of emergencies.
"Okay,” Hansol announces as he unfolds and lays out the clothes, “I've got two options. I have this plain black-and-white one, or a tan suit jacket with matching pants. I could wear a white button-up under it?"
You lean in closer, running your hand along the material of each outfit. They both look fine, but you hadn't even taken inventory of your own closet yet to find something to wear. It was almost endearing how eager he was to go on this trip. You push the thought away. As you try to make a decision, you remember a nice cocktail dress you had bought shortly after your breakup with Seungcheol: it fell just above the knees, and was a very nice shade of brown. An elegant color that complemented your skin tone nicely. If you remember correctly, Seungcheol's invite also had a dress code. Earthy tones.
"Let's go with the tan one." You look up at him to find him watching you intently. You scoot away from him again. "I have a dress that will match."
Hansol clears his throat. "Yeah, cool."
The two of you fall into your usual silence. Hansol glances out the window, where you notice the faintest shimmer of silver dangling from his ear. You gasp, playfully shoving him.
"An earring?" You ask as he turns to look at you. "I didn't know you had your ears pierced."
"All these months of sitting next to each other, and you're just now noticing?" He smirks. "Yeah, I've had them for a while. Will I need to take them out for the wedding?"
You quickly shake your head. "No, no. They're fine. I was just surprised to see them, I guess."
"I am a man of many surprises." He winks. "What're your plans for the rest of the evening?"
Really, you hadn't thought that far ahead. You figured your usual terrace-time (as Hansol has now dubbed it) would be on the agenda, as it was every night. They were enjoyable now, too. The new conversations are always enjoyable, but now, the company is growing on you, too. It was funny how Hansol already had a slot in your day-to-day life, but somehow managed to fit himself into it even more. Not that you were complaining. You were nowhere near complaining.
"Not much." You answer. "I mean, probably change and make some dinner. Then, of course, terrace-time."
Hansol laughs. "Uh, how would you feel about skipping terrace-time?"
"What, why?" You frown.
"I was thinking," he draws in a deep breath, "since we have to play these...roles...what if we just hung out today? Like, a normal hangout. No wallowing on the fire escape and smoking. I'm talking about proper conversation. I can make dinner."
You stare back at him, a little taken aback at the suggestion. If you didn't know any better, that would sound an awful lot like a date. But you knew it wasn't. It was strictly business, of course. It was probably smart, too. You knew the two of you needed to come up with a fake story about how you met and how long you'd been dating... you'd need to flesh out any details now so it didn't bite you in the ass later.
"Is that too much?"
You blink a few times, realizing you spaced out on him. You quickly shake your head, then push yourself to your feet.
"No, sorry." You smile at him gently. "I'm just tired. I think that would be a good plan, though. The more we know about each other, the better. Right?"
"Right." He quickly agrees.
You hesitate for a moment when you realize you're still in your work clothes.
"Um, I'll change, then." You announce awkwardly. "If you want to get the stuff for dinner...?"
Hansol's eyes widen. "Oh, right." He quickly gathers the suits again. You watch as he retreats back out the window and disappears up the fire escape.
By the time the dreaded weekend rolls around, the realization that you’re seeing Seungcheol again settles like an unwelcome guest in the pit of your stomach. You’re sitting on the airplane beside Hansol, who is bobbing his head along to whatever music plays through his headphones.
The only plus side is that, within the last month, you and Hansol have gotten fairly close. You’ve learned a lot about him, and you guys came up with the perfect cover story for your fake relationship. You’ve both recited it a million times by now: you’d run into each other one day when you were both coming home from work. When you found out you were neighbors, you started spending more time together, and Hansol finally asked you out.
You were just hoping the story would be enough to get through this weekend.
As you sink lower into your chair, you feel Hansol tug on the sleeve of your hoodie. You roll your head to look at him, and he takes his headphones off.
“You okay?” He asks.
Shrugging, you look back out the window. “I haven’t seen Seungcheol in almost five years. I’m just nervous about what kind of emotions I’ll feel when I see him again. It’s been easy to avoid him since we didn’t live near each other, but now…” You trail off. Below, the sky is clear and blue.
“You won’t be alone, though.” Hansol nudges you gently. “I’ll be there with you. Besides, we can make fun of how gross the food is and how fancy everything will be compared to our shitholes of apartments.”
You snort at that. “Knowing Seungcheol, the whole place will probably be dripping in his parents’ money.” You sit up to face him again, and his body is already facing yours.
“God, to have that kind of money.” Hansol clicks his tongue. “You think I’ll ever reach that point selling skateboards?”
“Highly unlikely.” You respond. You don’t remember when the two of you got closer, but you don’t mind. His knee occasionally bumps your leg as you talk. “But it’s okay, because I won’t make that much answering phones, either.”
He laughs, laying his head back against the headrest. “Damn, we won’t have terrace-time this weekend.”
“Hm,” you sigh, “what’re the odds our hotel room has a balcony?”
Hansol crosses his fingers as he turns his attention back to his phone. He doesn’t move away from you, though, as he gently leans against your shoulder with his own. You close your eyes, trying to get comfortable. Having Hansol here may actually be really nice, you think.
And maybe, hopefully, having him with you means this weekend will be manageable instead of intolerable.
Good news: the hotel room has a balcony.
Bad news: it only has one bed.
You and Hansol have been standing in the entryway for a few minutes now, unsure of what to say or do. You couldn’t exactly fault Seungcheol for booking it this way, though, because he was under the assumption that you were coming with your boyfriend. You just didn’t account for the fact that hotel rooming would be an issue until now.
“Okay,” Hansol finally speaks, taking a few steps into the room, “we can be mature about this, right?”
“Right!” You reply, but the way your voice wavers hardly hides the fact that this makes you nervous. Maybe if you just slept really close to the edge of the bed, it wouldn’t be noticeable that your friend was only a few feet away from you.
Hansol tosses his suitcase into the chair in the corner of the room. You watch as he opens up the blinds, then steps onto the balcony. Trailing behind, you set your suitcase on the bed and flop down beside it.
“Damn, who knew that Hawaii would be so…” Hansol trails off. “Hm. Hot?”
A laugh bubbles out from you as you hear him wander back inside. He flops beside you onto the bed.
“What were you going to say?” You ask, turning your head to look at him. He shrugs, then brings his hands up behind his head.
“I was going to say cool, but we’re supposed to hate this trip, right?” He replies. “Or, at least hate the person who booked it and invited you.”
You hum. “I don’t think Hawaii needs to catch our smoke because I’m mad at my ex.”
“True.” Hansol agrees, then shouts, “Sorry, Hawaii!” Out the window.
You playfully smack his side before sitting up, but Hansol is laughing. When you glance down at him, his laughter slows and something shifts.
It wasn’t noticeable immediately. It starts with your stomach flipping at the way he is looking up at you. Then, your heart quickens and you can feel your smile falter. It seems like Hansol feels it, too, because you see the corners of his mouth twitch and the tips of his ears turn pink.
In all the months you’ve known him, you’ve never realized how attractive he is. Sure, you always thought he was decent-looking. But right now, as he stares up at you with his soft eyes and messy, brown hair, it really registers to you that Hansol is beyond cute. Beyond handsome. You’re not sure you have a word to describe it.
You clear your throat and stand, quickly pushing whatever that feeling is out of the way. It has to just be the change of location, right? Don’t people usually have flings when they go on vacation? You’re nervously tucking your hair behind your ears when you hear him stand from the bed.
“Um, do we want to shower and go check out the beach?” You ask, not daring yourself to look at him just yet. Your cheeks feel hot, and you’re not even sure why you’re blushing. Nothing happened. He just looked at you, and you feel a bit ridiculous for letting it fluster you so much. “I think I want to freshen up, but then I figure we can explore? There’s supposed to be a bar somewhere in here.”
“Sure.” Hansol says, his voice low. “Uh, you can shower first. I think I need a smoke break after the plane ride.”
God, you’d kill for one, too. But you think you need the distance from Hansol more, as you slide into the bathroom to start the shower.
Yes, distance will be good.
You’re finishing off your second margarita as you and Hansol sit in the sand. The waves crash against the shore, bringing a refreshing breeze with it. Beside you, Hansol is pressing the butt of his cigarette to his lips and inhaling slowly. When he pulls it away again, he glances over to you.
“You know, I think this beats our fire escape by a long shot.” He states. “The air here feels more fresh.”
You set your empty glass in the sand next to you, then lay back. Your hair fans out behind you. “That’s because the air pollution in Korea is so much worse than here.” You pause. “Plus, we’re on vacation. I think everything feels better on vacation.”
Hansol sighs, and your usual silence falls between you once again. It’s a clear evening, making the stars totally visible from where you lay. You can make out a few constellations like the big dipper and orion’s belt. As the alcohol settles in your system, you can feel the tequila catching up to you as your head begins to feel light.
The shower earlier helped, and you think that fleeting moment in the hotel room was just a combination of exhaustion and all the extra time you’ve spent with Hansol. The rest of the night has felt normal, and you were grateful for it. It’s not like you have anything against him, but you’d be lying if you said a portion of you wasn’t nervous to get involved in anything romantic again.
Assuming that was what Hansol felt too, anyway.
“Hey,” he says as he stretches out and lays beside you, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but…what happened between you and Seungcheol?”
You shift slightly. “Oh.”
“Sorry if that’s crossing some kind of boundary.” He quickly adds. “I was just curious. It seems to be weighing on you a lot, so—“
“It’s okay,” You reassure him. “I don’t care that you asked. I just haven’t talked about it in a few years.”
Hansol is quiet, as if to give you the space you need to either share more or stop the conversation all together. You draw in a deep breath. As if the margarita has made a decision for you, you begin to feel the words spill out before you can stop them.
“Seungcheol and I first met at university.” You explain. “He was going for law, and I was going for business. We shared a few classes, and started going out in our second to last year of our undergrad programs.”
Hansol is quiet, so you keep going.
“Things were fine for a while,” you continue as you fold your hands across your stomach. “We dated for three years. I guess somewhere along the way he decided that he didn’t love me anymore. He just forgot to tell me that before he started seeing someone else.”
You hear Hansol sit up beside you. You turn your head to find him frowning.
“He cheated on you?” He asks.
“More or less,” you shrug. “Anyway, the girl he’s marrying is who he did it with. That’s why this whole invitation has felt like some sick joke.”
Hansol’s jaw tightens, as he looks out at the ocean in front of you both. “What a dick.”
“That’s a nice way of putting it.” You scoff. “But, yeah. I’m really appreciative that you offered to come with me, though. It’s only been eight hours, but I’m having fun so far.”
When he turns to look at you again, you feel the same shift as you did back in the hotel room. With the tequila in your system, though, the feeling is a lot more intense. His features seem amplified in the moonlight as the breeze sweeps through his brown hair.
“I’m having fun, too.” He replies as a smile teases at the corners of his lips. “It’s easy to have fun with you. I haven’t had that for a while.”
Your breath catches in your throat. “Oh. Well, good. I’m glad. Me neither.”
Hansol stays like that for a beat before laying down again beside you. You’re suddenly very aware of how close his arm is, and how it brushes against yours when he moves or shifts in the slightest. You don’t move, though, and neither does he.
Desperate to break the silence this time, your tipsy mind begins to scramble for a topic change or something else to bring up entirely. You try to swallow down your nerves, but it doesn’t do much.
“Uh, Hansol?” You turn your head to look at him. “Why do you think it took us so long to finally talk to each other?”
“Hm,” He muses, stretching his arms out before folding them across his chest. It’s his turn to stare up at the stars, and you wonder if he sees the same constellations you had a few minutes ago. “Well, do you want the truth?”
“Depends on what the truth is.” You mumble nervously.
Then, completely serious, he says, “I was coaxing.”
You blink, not understanding initially. When Hansol turns his head to face you, it’s obvious he’s trying (and failing) to hold in his laughter. That’s when you remember the serial killer joke you’d made to him when you first met. You gasp, and the laugh practically bursts out of him.
“I knew you’d be the coaxing type!” You exclaim, quickly scrambling to sit up. “You’re too nice to kill right away. You know? I think you’d need to warm up to the idea first before giving yourself enough courage to do it.”
His laughter slows as his smile falters for a moment. “Yeah,” he says, his tone softer than before, “I’d definitely need the courage, first.”
“Just, do it in my sleep, okay?” You tease as you push yourself to your feet. “If I need to go out, I’d rather not be awake for the whole suffering part.”
Hansol hums. “Noted.”
The morning sun seeps through the curtains in the hotel room, and you’re unbelievably warm. As you shift to push the blankets off of you, you begin to register the fact that half of Hansol’s body is currently draped over you. Your legs are a tangled mess, and he has his arm strewn over your stomach with his head in the crook of your neck.
It takes all but sixty seconds to fully process its Hansol before your breath catches in your throat. You freeze, unsure if you should move or not. You definitely did not fall asleep this way–in fact, you were so close to falling off the bed when you first got in last night, that you were wondering if it would actually happen. Not this. Not the exact opposite.
When Hansol shifts slightly, you feel your heart drop completely. He lifts his head enough to look down at you. You watch as he goes through the same motions you just had: letting his eyes adjust, realizing where he is, and registering the position he’s waking up in. His eyes widen as he quickly scrambles back.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” He says, his voice low and groggy from waking up. “I did not mean to–”
“No, it's fine.” You sit up. “Um, it just surprised me is all, you know?”
Hansol nods, running a hand through his messy hair. The silence is awkward as you both sit across from each other, unsure of what to do next. You dare a quick look at him, as he is distracting himself with his phone. He’s got bags under his eyes, and you wonder how long it has been since he got a full night’s rest like that. You knew for yourself it had been a while. More specifically, since Seungcheol left.
You didn’t even remember falling asleep last night. The last thing you remembered was laying on the edge of your side of the bed, and laughing at some horrible reality show that Hansol had put on the TV in the room. When you laid down, you were out cold. The craziest part is you slept really well. It was a heavy kind of sleep that made you actually feel well-rested and not just more tired.
Glancing at the digital clock on your bedside table, you realize just how long you guys had slept.
11:38 am.
You got into bed around nine o’clock last night, which means you slept for fourteen hours. The thought makes you laugh before you fall against the mattress again. Hansol’s attention shifts towards you as he lowers his phone into his lap.
“What?” He asks, laughing lightly with you.
“It’s just been forever since I’ve slept.” You reply, looking up at him. “Did you even see what time it was?”
The corners of his mouth twitch. “Yeah, uh, I did.” He says. “We missed breakfast, though.”
“Do you usually eat breakfast?”
He grins at that. “Nope.”
You laugh again as Hansol lays beside you once more. The screen door to the balcony was left open last night, and you can hear the sounds of people talking outside and cars driving past. Something about the laziness and simplicity of the morning makes you feel light–like you were getting everything with Hansol you could’ve had with Seungcheol.
You’d talked with Seungcheol in the past about moving in together. Sleeping in like this or wasting the day away in bed were the things you used to daydream about with him, but here you were, sharing it with your next door neighbor instead. Truthfully, though, Hansol was now past the point of ‘just your neighbor’. He was more, but the capacity of which wasn’t fully clear to you. If you’d asked the week prior, you’d say platonic in a heartbeat. But now, you weren’t sure. It was muddy. You wondered if Hansol felt the same.
“You know what I’d love, though?” He blurts.
You look at him, and he’s already staring back at you. “What is that?”
“I’d love some terrace-time.”
After each taking a quick shower, you and Hansol find yourselves comfortable on the loveseat that sits on the balcony. Hansol is leaning back against the wall behind you, while you’re leaning forward, looking at the view of the beach below. Despite the atmosphere being a bit more cozy than the fire escape, you almost miss the rickety stairs and sketchy landing outside of his apartment.
“What time is Prince Charming’s dinner tonight?” Hansol muses as he finishes off his cigarette. He tosses the butt into the ashtray, then lifts his head to look at you.
You glance at him over your shoulder. “I think he told guests to be there at five.”
“So, we’ve got some time?” He checks the time on his phone. “They have rental bikes at the beach. I was looking at them last night. How would you feel about a bike ride around the island?”
You smile, pressing your own cigarette into the ashtray. “Is this more coaxing?”
“Oh, well, of course.” Hansol nods. “Gotta get your guard down.”
“I guess a bike ride could be fun,” you hesitate, “but I haven’t rode one in years.”
He laughs, then leans forward with you. His knee bumps yours, and your heart skips a beat. “You gonna crash and burn on me, or do I need to teach you how to ride one all over again?”
This is flirting, right? This has to be flirting. Or maybe you were reading too much into the past twenty four hours. You aren’t even sure anymore. Your thoughts are moving faster than your brain is able to catch up, at this point. Deciding to test the waters, you choose to tease him back.
“Maybe I’ll need you to teach me.” You say lightly, trying to match his tone. “I think I’ve forgotten all of it.”
Hansol clicks his tongue as a smirk plays on his lips. “Tragic. I guess I’ll have to, then.”
When he leans back again, you feel your face warm. Hansol is flirting. Chewing on your bottom lip, you turn your attention back to the beach.
You find out very quickly that you definitely did forget how to ride a bike, as your foot is planted firmly on the ground beside you. As embarrassing as it is, you’re terrified to push off and the worst part is Hansol can tell.
Once his helmet is on, he glances back at you, trying to hold back any laughter that might come out. You groan. “Seriously, I don’t even want to hear it.”
“I didn’t say anything.” He replies, his grin becoming more apparent.
“You were thinking about it.” You pout, sitting down on the seat. “I mean, I’m almost thirty and I can’t ride a bike. That’s a little pathetic.”
“Nah,” Hansol waves you off as he props the stand, then rests his bike on it. He walks over to you, patting the helmet on your head. “We’ve all got our quirks.”
You roll your eyes. “Okay, what’s yours, then?”
He thinks for a moment, then says, “I’m allergic to peanuts.”
“That’s not a quirk, that’s just a fact.” You argue. He laughs as he walks behind your bike, then leans forward.
“If you’re done, I’m ready to get this show on the road.” He announces. “You wanna put your hands on the handlebars?”
“Not really.” You sheepishly admit. You shift in your seat, feeling how close he is as his black t-shirt gently brushes your back. You swallow nervously, feeling grateful he can’t see the blush creeping up onto your face.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He reassures you. “I won’t let go until you’re ready.”
After a few grueling seconds, you lean forward to grab the handles. At the same time, Hansol leans forward, resting his hands on yours. Your heart skyrockets at the touch, and you wonder if you’ll go into cardiac arrest on the spot. The two of you sit like that momentarily, before he clears his throat.
“Okay,” he says, “when you push off, I want you to pedal. I’ll keep you upright and help you steer, so don’t worry about that.”
“What if I’m already worrying?” You turn to look at him, when you about bump your head into his from how close he was. It clearly catches you both off guard, as Hansol blinks a few times. Then, he manages to give you a smile.
“Just trust me, okay?” He replies. “I’m not going to let you get hurt.”
The statement feels like it carries more weight to it than just riding a bike. You feel it settle deep inside of you, like it’s trying to make a home in the parts of your heart that still haven’t healed from Seungcheol. All you’re able to muster is a meek nod, as you look ahead at the sidewalk again.
“Ready?” Hansol asks.
“Ready.”
Drawing in a deep breath, you push off and bring your feet to the pedals. The bike wobbles at first, but Hansol keeps it steady like he said he would. You go slow at first, when slowly the motions start to come back to you.
As you gain a bit more confidence, Hansol says, “the left handle is your break. You want to try stopping?”
He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, which does nothing to calm the nerves that have been brewing since you got here. You do as he says, though, and slowly press down on the break. The bike comes to a stop, prompting you to sigh in relief.
“You did it!” He exclaims. You look up at him, unable to contain the smile on your face. He returns it, then sticks his hands into the pockets of his joggers. “Told you I’ve got you.”
“Yeah,” you laugh a little breathlessly. “That wasn’t too bad.”
“Want to try it on your own?” He hums. “I’ll stay right by your side for the whole ride.”
This time, it feels easier to believe him. So, you quickly nod, already prepping to push off.
“Ready when you are.”
You and Hansol sit outside of the restaurant when you arrive as you stall for time before walking in. Just beyond those doors was Seungcheol and the same girl he left you for five years ago. You hadn’t faced either of them since, and you were feeling a bit sick to your stomach. Thankfully, Hansol was in no rush as he stood beside you.
The two of you cleaned up, and put on some nicer clothes before coming here. Contrary to your initial doubt, Hansol cleans up very well. It was almost weird to not see him in his usual comfy clothes as he wore some nicer jeans and a button-down top. His hair was pushed back slightly, but still had the endearing messier look that you’ve grown fond of. It was true to him, and familiar to you. Kind of like a nice reminder that despite the facade, this is still the same Hansol you’ve sat next to for almost a year and spent all your sleepless nights with.
“How are you feeling?” He asks as he leans against the wall behind the two of you.
“Sick.” You laugh. “I don’t really know what to expect when we go in, you know?”
He hums, then holds his hand out. “Good thing you’re not alone, remember?” He reminds you coyly. “Just think about it this way: the faster we get this over with, the faster we can go back to the hotel for some much needed terrace-time. Maybe another reality show–?”
You make a face at that. “God, no more reality TV. But terrace-time sounds nice.”
Tentatively, you put your hand in his. Hansol smiles down at you before giving it a squeeze, then leading you both into the restaurant. It’s a nicer venue, with dim lights and light jazz music playing. The hostess directs you to the back party room, where the rest of the wedding guests are already mingling and drinking. Hansol pulls you closer to him as the two of you navigate towards an empty table to sit. Your eyes begin to wander, when you find Seungcheol at the front of the room. He’s laughing with Minghao, one of your mutual friends.
“That’s him,” you lean towards Hansol, tugging on his sleeve. He follows your gaze towards Seungcheol, and his jaw tightens. He mutters something under his breath, but you don’t have time to register it before your ex notices you, and begins walking over.
Your eyes widen, and Hansol is quick to throw his arm around you, pulling you into his side. Seungcheol offers an awkward smile as he looks between the two of you. He looks the same as he did five years ago, only his age is beginning to show on his face a bit.
“Hey,” he breathes, “you made it!”
“I did RSVP.” You reply, forcing a smile. “Uh, Cheol, this is my boyfriend, Hansol.”
Seungcheol takes one look at Hansol, and his demeanor changes instantly. He straightens his back a bit, then extends a hand towards him.
“Hey, man, glad you could make it.” He says evenly. You almost laugh.
Hansol shakes his hand, and is quick to drop it. “Yeah, congrats.”
“Well, we aren’t married yet.” Seungcheol laughs awkwardly. “But, uh, I’ll take the early congrats. Thanks. So..how long have you two known each other?”
Before you have the chance to reply, Hansol cuts in, “almost a year. We live in the same apartment building.”
“Ah,” Seungcheol’s expression twists as he looks over to you, “is it still that shitty place near downtown?”
“Well, not all of us can live off our parents’ wealth.” Hansol retorts. “Besides, it’s not that terrible. You know, if you’re humble enough to acknowledge that it’s a roof over your head.”
Oh god, you want to hide. You’re not sure what kind of stand-off these two were starting, but you did not want to be in the middle of it. You can feel Hansol’s grip on your shoulder tighten slightly. Seungcheol folds his arms across his chest.
“You’re right.” He nods curtly. “I should be more mindful of the fact that I’ve grown up a bit more privileged than others. Sorry to offend.”
His tone doesn’t quite match the words he’s saying, and Hansol seems to notice. You don’t want to give either of them the opportunity to keep arguing, so you decide to butt in.
“I’m sure you have a lot of people to catch up with.” You say with a gentle smile. “You know, people you know better than us? I mean, Hansol and I are here all weekend. We can talk more later.”
“Yeah,” Seungcheol sighs, glancing between the two of you again as if to size Hansol up. Then, he returns your smile. “Really, I’m happy you could make it. I’ll just…see you around, then?”
He hesitates before leaving, but once he does, you sink into Hansol’s side and let out a breath you didn’t even realize you had been holding in. Your head rests against his shoulder. Hansol stiffens slightly at the gesture before relaxing.
“Well,” you announce, “that was fun.”
Hansol laughs, sinking lower into his chair. “He sucks.”
You can’t help but laugh in response as you pull away from him. He looks over to you as the annoyance washes off his face, turning into a lopsided grin instead.
“I think we need some drinks.” You comment. “I’d definitely like to drink.”
“Awesome.” Hansol quickly nods. “I’m right there with you.”
“Whoooaa,” Hansol steadies you as you both stumble back into the hotel room.
You’re laughing and everything feels good. Your head has the perfect amount of buzz, and you feel warm and happy and the stress of the weekend is miraculously gone. As you flop onto the bed, you kick your heels off and stretch.
“They made some good cocktails,” you hum. “Really strong.”
“A little too strong.” Hansol teases as he sits beside you. “You should drink some water.”
“I’m fine.” You slur, rolling your head to the side to look up at him. His focus is on his shoes as he slides them off, but the only place your drunken mind can wander to is how good he looks.
You think about how nice he’s been, and how fun it was riding bikes today, and waking up beside him, and how hot it was when he stood up to Seungcheol. You tug lightly on his sleeve, prompting him to look back at you.
“What is it?” He asks, leaning back on his hands. “You want me to go grab you some from the front desk? I think they’re selling water bottles. I thought I saw some Gatorade, too–”
“You’re so pretty.” You coo happily, cutting him off from his sentence. “You’re so nice, too. So nice to me.”
His smile falters for a second, like you caught him off guard. He laughs a little breathlessly. “You’re so drunk.”
“Mmm but I think that when I’m sober, too,” you muse. “I wish we talked sooner.”
“Yeah.” Hansol mumbles. His gaze softens. “At least we are now, right? Better late than never.”
Your eyelids begin to feel heavy as the alcohol threatens to let sleep take you over. Bringing your hands to your eyes, you attempt to rub away the fatigue. It doesn’t work.
“Can we sleep together again?” You ask as you sit up.
Hansol blinks. “Like, what, cuddle?”
You nod as you push yourself to your feet and stumble towards your suitcase for some pajamas. As a yawn slips past your lips, you look back over to him.
“It was comfy,” you hum. “The only time I've ever slept well was with you.”
Hansol hesitates as he watches you close your bag again. Finally, he clears his throat and says, “Yeah. That’s fine.”
After clumsily changing in the bathroom, you drag yourself into bed, where Hansol already sat, watching the TV. He changed into his familiar sweatpants and hoodie combo that you usually saw him in, and you felt your heart flutter. The longer you were around him, the more he began to feel like home.
Though, maybe in a way he always had been.
The headache you wake up with is violent, and out to seek vengeance on you for the amount you drank the night before. The sunlight in the room is too bright, the soft whirring of the AC is too loud, and you want nothing more than to hide and stay in the room.
Beside you, Hansol’s presence is warm and grounding. He’s still snoring lightly, with his arms lightly wrapped around your waist. Your face is cozy against his chest, and he smells like a linen closet. No overbearing cologne like Seungcheol would always wear, just fresh and clean and comfortable.
You softly grab ahold of his hoodie, pulling yourself closer to him. If you could live like this for the day, you’ll be content. But then Hansol stirs, and your heart breaks a little that it’s over already. When you don’t lift your head immediately, you feel Hansol’s grip tighten just the slightest.
“How hungover are you?” He mumbles, his voice low and gravelly from waking up.
“Too much.” You groan. “I hope I didn’t do or say anything stupid yesterday.”
Hansol is quiet. Then, “You don’t remember anything?”
“I remember leaving the restaurant.” You yawn, accompanied with a shrug. “I don’t really remember coming back here, though. It’s a bit fuzzy.”
“Oh.” Hansol says.
You frown, then finally lift your head to look at him. “Why did something happen? Did I say something horribly embarrassing?”
The corners of his mouth twitch before he finally smiles. It doesn’t fully reach his eyes, though. But you figure it’s probably because he’s still waking up. “Nah,” he reassures you. “Nothing too crazy.”
Before you can ask what he means, he’s pulling away and it almost hurts when he does. Hansol rolls onto his back, then reaches for his phone on his bedside table. You sigh, then follow suit, grabbing your phone from under your pillow. It’s already almost ten, and the wedding starts in three hours.
“I’ve been sleeping so well since we got here.” You announce, glancing over to Hansol. He’s scrolling on his phone mindlessly.
“Yeah, uh,” he looks at you briefly before his attention flicks back to his phone, “me too.”
You discard your phone again, then roll on your side to face him. “What do you think our sleeping habits will be like when we get home?” You ask. “I’m holding out hope they’re going to get better.”
“I don’t think they will,” he admits with a laugh. “Besides, what’ll we do with terrace-time if our sleep schedules get fixed?”
“Damn,” you click your tongue. “Can’t give that up. It’s too precious to me.”
You’re staring at him, hoping for something–anything. A reaction, an agreement…you begin to wonder if maybe the vacation was just getting to you both. You’ve heard countless times of friends falling into weird situationships when they’re away from home, so maybe you’ve clung onto Hansol since he’s here with you and it’s easy. Except, the amount of times you try to tell yourself that, it doesn’t fully feel true.
“I think I’ll shower and start to get ready.” He states, setting his phone down again. “Unless you want to go first?”
You shake your head, rolling onto your back. “No, you can go. I think I need a little bit longer to wake up.”
He says something else to you, but you don’t register it. Instead, you absentmindedly watch as he gathers his suit, then disappears into the bathroom. Once the water turns on, you bury your face in your hands.
Maybe you just need to get over it. It’d be embarrassing if you tried to push the matter further only to find out Hansol never reciprocated those feelings. Besides, now that you knew each other beyond terrace-time, you didn’t want to lose him completely over some silly feelings from the adrenaline of vacation. He’s a good person, and good people have been hard for you to come across lately. That’s something you didn’t want to take for granted.
Poking your head around the corner, you see Hansol smoking on the balcony. His suit jacket is draped over his shoulder, as he stares out at the beach below. You can’t get your dress zipped and you feel a little embarrassed by it, but you also can’t exactly show up with your bare back on display and the risk of the dress falling off.
“Uh, hey Hansol?” You meekly call out. He glances over his shoulder towards you. “I, uh, need help with my dress.”
He tosses the remainder of his cigarette into the ashtray, then meanders over to you. After draping his suit jacket onto the bed, you push the door open slightly. You’re holding the front of your dress up with one hand, giving a lopsided smile.
“I can’t get it zipped.” You laugh nervously.
Hansol doesn’t say anything at first. But his eyes drag over your body before meeting your gaze, and you feel your face flush. He swallows.
“Yeah, okay.” He nods. “Um, you need to turn around, though, so I can zip it.”
“Oh!” You chirp. “Right. Sorry.”
You spin to face the mirror across from you in the bathroom. Hansol hesitates before grabbing your waist with one hand, and the zipper in the other. His knuckles are cold as they gently brush against your spine while he zips. You hold your breath when he’s done, and neither of you move for what feels like several minutes. His hand is still at your waist, and you wonder if he can hear how loud your heart is beating.
“Hansol–” You stop, not really sure what you were going to even say. He lifts his head, meeting your gaze in the mirror.
“Yeah?” He whispers, his breath hot behind your ear.
“I, uh,” you shake your head, like that’ll snap you out of it. You settle on giving him a smile. “Thanks.”
He returns your smile. “All I did was zip your dress.”
“No, I mean,” you turn to face him, “thanks for coming with me. This definitely wouldn’t have been as fun without you.”
“Oh,” he nods. “Yeah, for sure. It’s been great. It’s nice having a new friend gained from all of this, you know?”
Friend. “Yeah.” You agree. “Although, I do miss our own spaces. I think terrace-time at the beach feels a little too luxurious for me, you know?”
“Definitely.” He gives your waist a quick squeeze, before dropping his hand at his side. “What do you think, should we get this wedding over with?”
“Please.” You groan, following him out of the bathroom. “Do not let me drink as much tonight, okay? Unless something horribly awful and dramatic happens, then I’ll probably want to forget it.”
“Heard.” He nods, slipping on his suit jacket. “Only getting plastered in case of an emergency: you got it.”
The venue is about as lavish as you were expecting it to be. There’s a gorgeous, floral archway at the end of the aisle, and elegant green, beige, and white decorations everywhere. The second that Seungcheol is in Hansol’s sight, he grabs your hand and tugs you closer to him.
You take your seats towards the back, and settle as the last of the crowd trickles in. Despite being out of his line of sight, Hansol keeps your hand in his as he traces lazy circles on the back of yours with his thumb. His hand is larger than yours, but seems to mold perfectly against it.
“What kind of food do you think will be at the reception?” Hansol asks, leaning close to you.
You snicker, turning to look at him. “Probably something fancy that I’ve never heard of.” You whisper back. He’s close and your heart is beating at a million times per second, you’re pretty sure. You wonder if he can tell.
“I just hope it’s something edible.” He grins, his voice low. “I’m a picky eater. What if there’s peanuts?”
“If there’s peanuts, then I guess I’m killing you first.” You comment. “I’d have the high ground.”
Hansol’s eyes widen. “I thought I was the one doing the killing here?”
Instead of saying anything, you give him a wink and face forward again as you hear music begin to fill the venue. Hansol squeezes your hand gently, but doesn’t bother letting go. Not yet, anyway. But you’re really hoping he doesn’t. You like the way it feels in yours—warm and grounding.
The two of you watch the families shuffle into place along with any remaining guests who have yet to sit. A few minutes pass before the ceremony begins, and everyone stands. The wedding party seems to take their sweet time walking down the aisle, couple by couple, until finally Yuna begins to walk with her father.
She looks beautiful. Even prettier in person, and seeing her eyes light up when she sees Seungcheol makes you feel…at peace, almost. You let your gaze follow hers to where Cheol is standing, with tears threatening the corners of his eyes. They look so happy. And a sudden feeling washes over you that since meeting Hansol, you haven’t spent your nights thinking about Seungcheol anymore. You realize that seeing them commit to each other like this was the exact closure you needed.
But you also realize that you’re pretty sure you have feelings for Hansol.
You forget his hand is in yours until he lets go and begins to lightly rub the small of your back. For a moment, you wonder if he thinks you’re hurt by the scene playing out before you. But when you glance back at him, whatever expression you’re wearing seems to clear it up for him. He smiles as everyone sits again, then shifts his arm so it’s wrapped around your shoulders.
You like Hansol.
Whatever the officiant is saying quickly becomes background noise, as your mind begins to spiral. This whole time you’ve been trying to write it off by the amount of time you’ve spent together, but you’re truly not sure if that’s the case anymore. He’s kind, and funny, and seems to know how to cheer you up despite you not ever verbally telling him. You glance over to him, but his attention is on the ceremony. As if he can feel your gaze on him, he looks over briefly, then smiles.
‘What?’ he mouths.
You grin, shaking your head. ‘Nothing’ you mouth back.
After some obligatory introductions to some of Seungcheol’s family and friends, you and Hansol wander outside of the venue for a smoke. The butterflies in your stomach have not left since your realization during the ceremony, and part of you really wants to ask Hansol his thoughts about…well, everything. Getting closer to each other, this trip, and every interaction in between–you know in your heart that there had to have been something simmering this whole time.
“I’m almost sad to go home tomorrow.” Hansol suddenly says as he leans against the wall beside you. “This trip has been a lot of fun. Quick, but fun.”
You hum, flicking some of the ash off your cigarette. “It’s been…” you trail off, not really sure where you were going with your sentence. Finally, you say, “Hansol, are things going to go back to normal when we get home?”
“What do you mean?” He asks, pushing himself off the wall to stand in front of you. “Define ‘normal’.”
You shrug. “Like, not seeing each other or hanging out everyday. Terrace-time being quiet…” you clarify. “I just–I guess I don’t really want to leave here and lose all of that when we get home.”
Hansol studies you for a minute, and you feel your cheeks warm. He presses the butt of the cigarette to his lips, inhaling slowly, before pulling it away again. When he exhales, he offers you a gentle smile.
“To be quite frank, I don’t think I can even try to force myself to go back to that.” He admits. “Uh, but I would like to ask you something. I just need to know if it’s true or not.”
“Anything.” You reply quickly, suddenly growing nervous.
He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, clearly nervous as well. “When you were drunk last night, you told me you thought I was pretty.”
“Oh my god–”
“Hey, I’m not done,” he laughs, tossing his cigarette into the ashtray beside the two of you. “You said you would say it sober, too. When you said you didn’t remember anything from last night, I kinda wondered if it was true or not.”
At this point, your face is probably bright red. Hansol seems to notice as he bites back a smile, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks.
“Jesus,” you laugh nervously, turning your head down towards your heels. “Uh, that’s really embarrassing on my part but…yeah. I do.”
When he doesn’t reply right away, you’re scared he’s going to reject you or tell you he thinks of you only as a friend. You force yourself to look up at him when a few moments pass, and his smile is gone, replaced by a much softer expression.
“Good.” He finally says, taking a step closer to you. “Because I think the same thing about you.”
“Wait, really?” You straighten your posture, putting the rest of your own cigarette out in the ashtray. “Oh my God, I thought I was imagining things.”
Hansol presses his brows together. “You knew?”
“No!” You quickly say. “Not really. I mean, I thought you might’ve been flirting with me this whole time, but I was kind of worried it was just because of the fact we were on vacation and had spent a lot of time together. I didn’t think you really–”
You barely have time to register the fact that his lips are on yours before he’s cupping your face, and backing you into the wall. Your eyes flutter closed as you melt into his touch almost immediately. His lips are soft as they move against yours, slowly and carefully like he’s savoring every moment of it–like he’ll never get the opportunity again.
But, really, you’d like to do this every second of every day with him now that you know what kissing him feels like.
Hansol pulls away momentarily, prompting you to open your eyes. His chest is quickly rising and falling from the adrenaline of suddenly kissing you. His own cheeks are flushed, but the way he’s looking at you makes you weak in the knees. It’s in a way that not even Seungcheol has looked at you: with so much adoration.
“So,” he sighs, his breath fanning against your face, “do you want to be my real girlfriend or whatever?”
You shrug lazily, trying to be nonchalant with him. But your giddy grin gives you away when you say, “I mean, I guess I will. Or whatever.”
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synopsis... you accidentally text svt a thirst message about them, thinking they were someone else... inspired/directly quoted from things @mylovesstuffs and @eclipsaria said today.
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ pairing... svt x reader
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ genre... smau, fluff???, smut??
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ trigger/content warning... mature/nsfw content - minors dni, a lot of phallic symbols, freaks, jealousy, breeding, mentions of p0rn?, leg spreading, swearing, mingyu's feelings, pls let me know if i missed anything!
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging!
a/n... literally pumped this out in half an hour because of how inspired i was LMFAO... i did not mean to post this fast again but here we are YAYYY!! please thank yuki and cel for these amazing one liners... i was shocked once, twice, thrice, and then a bijillion times. i tried to make it more pg but it was kinda hard...
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