#seokmin angst

[hannieoftheyear]

RED WINE NIGHTS [L.SM]

what's the worst time to hook up with your best friend and change your relationship forever? probably the night before he gets on a plane and flies far away to become a world famous star.

pairing: formula 1 driver!dokyeom x f!reader

genre/au: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, angst, smut.

word count: 24,5k (oh my god i'm sorry)

content warnings: mentions of food, repressed feelings, messy hookups, reader is dumb, dealing with insecurities, one murder joke, alcohol consumption, jealousy, a car crash (no one gets hurt), seungkwan is a plot device | explicit smut: multiple smut scenes, masturbation, oral (f rec.), fingering, manhandling, he is very strong, protected sex, hair pulling (m rec.), multiple orgasms, sex with a lot of feelings.

🎧: this town — niall horan, don't say you love me — jin

note: this is for the 'Lights Out' collab hosted by the amazing @camandemstudios ! thank you so much cam @highvern and em @gyuswhore for letting me be a part of this collab ♡

thank you ro @shinysobi and em (again) for helping me with the banner ♡ lots of thank yous to aeris @aeristudios for reading this over for me and ensuring me it wasn't trash ♥︎ and alta @haologram for helping me brainstorm the first few scenes, they wouldn't have gotten done if it wasn't for you ♡ and to everyone who kept sending me encouragement, trixie @joshujin rae @nerdycheol and more people I'm sure I'm forgetting thank you too! I really couldn't have finished this if it wasn't for all of you 😭

THIS FIC IS FOR +18 READERS ONLY! MINORS CAUGHT INTERACTING WILL BE BLOCKED.

go check out all the amazing fics in the collab masterlist ! ♡ check out my main masterlist ♡ dividers used

I apologize for any mistake about f1 racing and races in general 😭 I had no time to catch any race while writing, but I did my best trying to remember the few I watched! this isn't realistic at all but i hope you have a good time reading hehe

last note: it's not specified, but I did imagine red bull Seokmin while writing, so, do with that what you will

hope you enjoy!! I can't wait to read your thoughts!!

The clock on the restaurant’s wall signals it’s barely 3:30 pm when the waiter walks towards your table with your order. His smile has the needed amount of politeness, mixed with a little bit of judgment at you for ordering two burgers with a side of fries at this hour.

You thank the young looking waiter as he sets the plates on the table, right before looking at the man sitting across from you, wide eyes and wiggly eyebrows to annoy him further.

“Don’t you love we’re doing this?” The salt shaker is heavy in your hand, coating your fries with a thick layer of salt before even tasting them.

Seokmin chuckles, shaking his head and extending his arm to lift the top bun of your hamburger. The tomato slices get squished between his fingers as he takes them out of your burger and puts them on his own.

There’s a faint shade of pink extending from his cheeks to his ears, probably from the unwanted attention of undoubtedly being judged by your snack choices.

“We could’ve waited until later, you know?” His mouth is full from already diving into his meal, and you chuckle in response as you salt his fries too. “Hey—stop that! Don’t tamper with my food!”

“I don’t want to hear you whining about them having no flavor in five minutes! I’m saving myself from misery!”

“You’re trying to poison me and stop me on my way to stardom!” He complains but still doesn’t stop the salt attack, “the people are going to wonder where the next big star went away to.”

“The people… being?”

Seokmin nearly chokes at the dry bread tickling the roof of his mouth, “a lot of people watch Formula 2, you know?”

The two older ladies sipping tea on the table beside yours whisper as they side-eye you two.

“They’ve been rooting for me. They even celebrated that I’m moving on from being a reserve driver and racing properly this season.”

“Oh, I’m sure…”

You didn't know that something other than Formula 1 existed before your best friend got scouted to race. Being subjected to weeks long bullying by all of your friends, and a thousand comments of ‘what did you think the One stood for?’ was enough for you to want to learn the basics.

But it was after Seokmin started racing and people started stopping him on the street, begging you to take their picture with the smiley man they knew from watching his races on TV, that you understood. It was big.

Now, after months of being a reserve driver, another thing you learned existed because of him. He had the chance to compete in a Formula 1 Championship for real. You didn't ask what happened, why the driver he's replacing can't finish the year. You celebrated his dream coming true.

“They're excited about me moving up the ladder!”

“Definitely,” you tease, hoping he knows you’re as proud of him as a best friend can be.

How couldn’t you be? The boy you used to save a seat for at lunch during the high-school days, the one who’d pirate formula 1 simulators to play during the little free time he got, who everyone doubted he had what it took to race professionally. He succeeded, and you got to see him through his journey with your own eyes as his personal cheerleader.

You see it every day, with every selfie taken with a fan, with every broadcast news showing his face, with every highlight of a race showing on TV. This is what he was meant to do, what he loves shyly, but with all his heart. And now, he finally has the chance to prove himself as a worthy driver after being overlooked by his team for so long.

“By the way," Seokmin starts as the first fry crunches between your teeth, "you have to watch every race now."

As if it wasn't already your plan, a sigh leaves you before responding, "Watching rich men drive cars fast every week? Oh! The dream!"

The grannies judge your dramatics before sipping on tea again, but you've learned to get used to being stared at. You had to, not knowing who could recognize the man who inhaled his burger in the time it took you to eat five fries.

"I expect feedback every Monday," his words come out muffled by the napkin wiping his mouth of any possible stain. "Are you eating these?"

You're quick to slap his hand away from the side of nuggets you ordered. “You said you didn't want any. Live with that."

It's always the same with him. Going out to eat anywhere, he never orders everything he wants, only to take a bite out of your order later. A new flavor of ice cream, pistachio flavored popcorn, nutella-filled churros, the list of things you never finished ‘cause he begged to try them is endless.

The crunch sounds of his fries takes you out of your thoughts, and you look up to find Seokmin's mouth moving.

"You still haven't told me why we had to drive three hours to get burgers at 4 pm."

"I did tell you!" A fry flies from your hand and hits him right in the face. He eats it like he hasn't eaten one in ages. "You just never listen to me."

"No, you didn't!" Seokmin smiles as he purposely annoys you. "I'm not buying that you just wanted to spend time with me."

"Why do you think, then? If I'm such a mean friend who doesn't want to spend time with her best friend before he disappears forever."

"Let me guess…" his finger taps repeatedly against the corner of his mouth as he thinks, unknowingly entrancing your eyes to look at the lower part of his face. "You want to kidnap me so you'll never have to be away from me."

It's common knowledge among everyone in your life that you and Seokmin are a package deal. From always seating with the other in high school to sharing any and every class possible in college, even if you weren't doing the same majors. An elective class showed up on both programs? You were doing it. You work well together, so why waste it?

The news that he was going to be racing more often was like a punch in the gut. When he became a reserve driver —and you learned that those existed only because of him, he stopped being needed on the paddock too often, and his visits to his hometown became more frequent.

Now, he's spending the rest of the season as a proper formula 1 driver. His dream come true. You should be proud. You are proud, but can't help feeling like a part of your heart crumbles a little every time the reminder hits that you won't see him for months, you won't hear the loudest laugh ever known to man, you won't have a shoulder to cry on.

How is life supposed to continue? There are other people in your life, other friends that you cherish, who will hang out at your apartment when you ask, watch the races on your couch, and tease Seokmin in the group chat. But none of them are him. 

Seokmin squints at your thoughtful state, his face the entire view in front of you, and suddenly the half-eaten burger on the table becomes the most interesting thing in the small restaurant.

You take another bite to fill your stomach before it starts aching. "You'd love to live off my cooking, admit it."

His laugh echoes around the room, contagious and warm, and your laughter quickly joins. The idea of you producing any kind of meal is always funny to him.

Burned pancakes, cakes hard as bricks, brownies with zero flavor, some people are just not made for the kitchen, and that's okay. Seokmin's been your victim countless times. He always ate what you presented with good intentions, but not even his kind smile managed to hide the disgust in his eyes as he swallowed.

"I'd love that, you're right," he's breathless, trying to tone down his squeals after the scene he himself made and stealing a few fries from your plate in the meantime.

"If I'm not feeling like racing one day, I'll ask you to send me some of your undercooked cookies."

The memory he's talking about flashes through your eyes. "They were supposed to be like that!"

"With burned down edges too?"

"You're so mean," you avoid his stare by looking down to the table, finding there's hardly any food left, courtesy of the fried-potato-stealing. "You're about to lose your one and only fan."

"You're finally admitting you're my fan?"

"Well! Not anymore!"

"Like you don't love to watch me."

He smirks as he drinks the last of his soda, the sprite zero he insists is the best drink ever even if no one on the planet likes it, and your throat dries at the sight.

There's a line, and a blurry one at that, that you're never sure if he crosses on purpose or if it's your mind playing sick games. Your amicable, smiley, gentlemanly best friend couldn't be implying something else.

You do love watching him race. The interviews he gave after his F2 races, with the sweaty hair falling in front of his face and that tired smile he flashes to every interviewer. You watch everything.

Your camera roll is filled with blurry pictures of your computer screen, his face present in every single one of them, either celebrating a win or being embarrassed at a mistake. Always with the intention of sending them to him, let him know you were watching. Still, they don't leave their place in your phone gallery. But you never delete them either.

Suddenly, the urge to clarify something he didn't even imply takes over you, "I've never missed any of your races." 

You catch it before he even replies, that soft glint in his eyes that appears when he's happy. "I know."

His smile is assuring, like the toasty air that envelops you when walking past a bakery, like that one weighted blanket saved for the coldest winter days, like a warm cup of tea before sleeping.

You've celebrated every step forward he took in the racing world. When he got into Formula 2, his first podium, his first pole position, when his team finally promoted to being a reserve driver for Formula 1. Things kept changing, but your friendship didn't, you stayed strong and cheered for him every step of the way, and he stayed the kind Seokmin you loved, even with all the fame that came with his job.

So, why does it feel different this time? He's always flying from one country to the other, except for the times he isn't needed on the paddock on race day, and doing video-calls instead of hanging out when he's away became normal for you two a long time ago. It shouldn't be different, yet it is, somehow.

The waiter comes with the check Seokmin asked behind your back, giving you no chance of paying for the meal before he's giving the boy his card and telling him to give himself a 20% tip.

But the boy's gone before your hand even reaches the depths of your bag, leaving you squinting at your best friend. "You shouldn't be paying for your celebration."

"Let me spend my money however I want," he starts grabbing his things, ignoring your moment of stubbornness. "If I want to spend it on you, I will."

"But—" his index finger places against his pursed lips, the shut-up gesture that always makes your blood boil.

It isn't his first time doing this. It's been happening since he realized that paying for meals behind your back was the only way he could get away with using his money on you since you've prohibited him from buying you gifts. It's annoying, and you'll pay him back. One day.

When he notices you're in no rush to get your things and leave, Seokmin stands on the side of your chair, towering over your, too calm, body ominously. "Are we done now? Can we go home? I still need to clean up my apartment."

Your phone's dry with no texts received during the meal time, so you lock it again and take a few seconds to place it properly on your bag, not sparing your friend a glance.

"Why do you wanna end the day so badly? Are you tired of me already?"

"I never get tired of you," Seokmin snatches your bag out of your hands and begins walking away with his long legs and big steps, your legs almost running to chase after him. "I just want to  find out what you're hiding."

His smirk can even be heard as he pushes the glass door open.

"What could I possibly be hiding?"

"I don't know, maybe Seungkwan murdered the guy I'm replacing, and you want me to have an alibi."

"Shit, you weren't supposed to find out!"

His car stands out parked around the block, red and shiny, spottable it from a mile away. "Fine, if you're in a hurry, we can go back. It's okay."

Still, you refuse to get in the car, leaning against the passenger door as if time wasn't moving. With the keys spinning around your finger, you're not even sure how you got them. But, you congratulate yourself mentally for stealing them from him at some point, one last attempt to make the afternoon longer.

"It's a 3 hour ride back. Whatever you're planning can't take longer than that." Seokmin stands just a few feet before you, eyes narrowed in an intent to analyze and catch any of your signs, something he's worriedly good at. "Stop with that! Can't someone want to spend an afternoon with their best friend who she never sees? Is that a crime!"

Seokmin smirks lightly, eyes locked with yours as he teases, "I'll miss you too." "Oh, shut up!" Unable to stand under his gaze for long, the car keys fly from your hands to his, a sign of defeat. "Fine, let's go."

He chuckles in disbelief, walking not to the driver seat, but towards you. "I'm driving?" "You're literally a professional driver," the words blurt out of your mouth, as if a teasing reminder could draw a wall between Seokmin's body and yours. "Yeah, at 200 miles per hour." His smirk hasn't faltered since leaving the restaurant. He even looks… amused at your intents of joking your way out his interrogation.

Your eyes concentrate on the opened buttons of his shirt, almost all you can see from your point of view without tilting your head up. "My record so far is 50."

"Should I call the police?" Seokmin chuckles, and you want to die, his shoulders bouncing at the rhythm of his chest rising right in front of your face. "People drive like crazy here! No one uses their side signals anymore! I need to be prepared!" "Fine, I'll drive. But we're getting home in two hours."

You grunt in response, glad to not have to drive, but annoyed at everything that his return entails. The next morning, he'll leave, again, for longer this time, with less free hours he can spend talking to you. That's not a life you want to live in. A life where the robotic sound of Seokmin's chuckles breaking through the video call is the next time you'll hear his laugh.

Neither the TV or the phone screen do justice to everything Seokmin is. Through your eyes, he's the person who'd never judge you when you tell him your weird dreams, the one you'd learn things about a rich men sport for. He's… the sun, your sun. After today, the sun will go away from your sky, leaving your days blue, cold, and sunless.

Sitting on the car's leather seat, it feels like an eternity since you got to the restaurant, yet it wasn't enough time. "Don't let me fall asleep."

"I can't make any promises," Seokmin starts the engine, but when you turn your head to glare at him, he's already focused on you. "You've slept through my loudest alarms!"

"That was one time!" Something in his eyes renders you incapable of maintaining eye contact for long, and it's easy to use the road ahead as an excuse, "eyes on the road, Formula 1 boy."

The buzzing all around you stops, your eyes shooting open and settling on the familiar gray columns and walls of the garage. Hours spent sleeping, hours missed. You wasted your time.

A ruffling sound turns your neck to the driver's seat, where Seokmin's snacking on a bag of spicy Doritos and already looking at you.

"You fell asleep," he says with a mouthful, smiling like it's funny.

Like it's funny that your last hours alone with your best friend flew by cause you were so weak you had to fall asleep. "Tell me something I don't know, Sherlock."

You regret the tone you used as soon as Seokmin raises his eyebrows and turns to unlock the car doors. "O…kay, bad mood after a nap. Got it."

He's out of the car in a beat, only his arm in your sight as he grabs the keys without looking in.

"It's not that—I'm sorry." The passenger door shuts closed behind you as you flap your arms in the air to draw his attention back, "I just didn't want to spend our last hours together passed out."

Seokmin stops in his tracks and turns around, barely a few steps away from the car, and from you, "You're acting like you're never going to see me again."

"Well, you'll be much more busy!" He looks unconvinced, shoulders still slouched due to your outburst, so you keep going, "what if the fame gets to your head and you start ignoring my calls, or leaving me on read after the third voice note telling you the gossip around school."

"I'd never do that! Gossip is my main priority." The corners of his mouth lift as he sees you walk up to him, ready to go up to his apartment after all. "Funny."

Countless times you've done the same, walked the same cold garage and hopped on the same elevator, with the same Seokmin who's walking by your side but ever-so-slightly ahead of you.

As he turns to click the button to his floor, you check your phone again and see the text you've been waiting for. "But, seriously, don't start ignoring my calls, or I'm flying to whatever country you're in, and making you pay for the plane ticket."

He chuckles again, and the same warm nostalgic sensation takes over your every organ, again.

There's nothing out of the ordinary as you get out of the elevator, steps coordinated walking the hallway you know by memory. It's suspiciously silent, as if the echo of your feet against the tile floor was enough for you two. But you're not ready to say goodbye. "We're finally back here." Seokmin fidgets with his keys, awkwardly standing beside his door and facing you. "You can drop the act now."

"What act? We spent the day together like I wanted," You cross your arms in front of your chest, giggling at his confused face."You're finally rid of me, happy?"

"Yeah, yeah, like I believe that." Seokmin sticks his ear against the wooden door, trying to hear even a sliver of a noise from inside his own apartment.

"Okay! Bye now!" With a slow pace, you begin walking away, the elevator still waiting for you. "Call me when you leave for the airport, okay?"

He, then, realizes you're actually leaving. You almost miss the small smile and the wave of his hand before you turn and walk away. All you get before he clicks his door open, defeated.

"SURPRISE!"

The screams from inside Seokmin's apartment reach you before you even turn back around, right when he starts laughing and locks eyes with yours.

You're back by Seokmin's side in seconds, with your hands on his back and pushing him inside his crashed home. "You didn't think I was just going to leave like that, huh?"

A walkway forms between all your friends, letting the man of the hour in as someone closes the door behind you. Everyone greets and hugs Seokmin, who's still in a bit of shock that all of this happened behind his back. Thanks to you.

“How did all of you get in?” Seokmin's smile is as big as ever, glancing at everyone before setting his eyes on you. 

“I gave them my key.” You shrug.

You've always had a key to his apartment in case of emergencies—the emergencies being either Seokmin getting his arm stuck between the wall and his too big bed, or times he forgets to do the dishes before flying to a country on the other side of the world.

"I didn't give it to you so you could pass it along to everyone!"

"Acting like you weren't pouting thinking I had nothing planned for you."

Everyone laughs at Seokmin getting exposed by your comment, but he gets over it quickly as something else catches his attention. 

There's a huge poster hanging where Seokmin kept an undecorated wall, with hand-painted blue, red, and white letters spelling the guest of honor's name. Just his name.

Someone you don't see pops open a bottle of champagne, and everyone goes wild with celebration, claps, and a few whistles here and there. Seokmin gets forced into the living room by Chan and Mingyu, who swear he'd previously told them they could use his fancy new washing machine before dates.

You've been with him the entire afternoon, so you let the rest of the guys harass him for a while.

Music starts blasting through the expensive speaker system Seokmin set up—another reason why you wanted the party to be at his apartment. The playlist had been kept a secret from you. Everyone was afraid of what songs you’d add if given the chance, and it almost made you go crazy. But the music is not eardrum-shattering, so you let it be.

The layout of Seokmin's apartment is tattooed in your brain. How many nights have you crashed on the very same couch Wonwoo's playing with the X BOX in right now? Or how many times have you come in the middle of the racing season to take care of Seokmin's plants?

Someone screams in the living room, followed by a choir of laughter and flashes of phone cameras. The guys are making sure Seokmin won't miss their pranks.

"Did he figure it out?" Seungkwan catches you in the kitchen, about to raid the wine cabinet.

You could walk around Seokmin's apartment blindfolded. You know in which kitchen cabinet is everything you need, where he hides the fancy wine, and you’re the only one he doesn't give shit to for drinking it.

"He suspected I was planning something, but I handled it like a champ."

"You hit him in the head and gave him temporary amnesia?"

The corkscrew in your hand works as a temporary threatening device, and Seungkwan throws his hands in the air with a pout and a frown of eyebrows of the same threat level.

"He looked really shocked," Seungkwan continues after you've placed your weapon back on the counter. "I don't think he expected all of us to be part of the surprise."

"What else could he expect?"

Seungkwan shrugs as an answer.

Grabbing one of the two matching wine glasses from the cabinet—your favorites, your mind drifts back to Seungkwan's statement as you fill your glass past the recommended amount.

Sure, Seokmin suspected there was a surprise waiting back for him. But why would his group of friends not be a part of it? Everyone wanted to celebrate his success, his final step up to where he always wanted to be. You made sure everyone came, put Seungkwan in charge of setting up the party while you distracted Seokmin all afternoon. It was a perfect plan, and it worked! He was as shocked as ever.

The taste of dry and sweet red wine dampens your lips, and you gulp down half the glass, enjoying the taste. It's a tradition. Drinking red wine on special occasions. For tonight, you didn't wait for Seokmin, afraid to interrupt his time with his other friends before snatching him back with you.

"Ew!" Seungkwan's hand gets dangerously close to the glass in your hand before you slap it away. "Grab your own glass! You know where they are."

“It's just a sip!” His eyebrows frown again, this time genuinely offended.

“You know you can die.”

“From what? The possibility of getting in contact with someone's saliva? Tell that to your past self from the college years.”

“I'm still in college!” You defend yourself, even if fighting against the memories of your slutty era is pointless. 

“Stalling entering the job market doesn't count.”

“Now I’m definitely not giving you anything.” You gulp down the rest of the wine while purposely holding eye contact with Seungkwan. He doesn’t stop you. "Hope you get h.pylori and die."

"You don’t get—Hey I wash my hands!" Someone entering the small kitchen interrupts Seungkwan’s declaration.

Vernon pops into view for two seconds, putting his hands on Seungkwan’s waist to move him a bit to the side and be able to reach a forgotten bowl full of chips left on the counter. You don’t miss the touch or your friend getting red as a tomato.

"I'm not talking about hands." Hiding your giggle behind your empty glass, it’s clear your friend’s now focused on something else.

"Bitch,” Seungkwan mutters, crashing into none other than the man being celebrated while on the way out.

Seokmin emerges through the kitchen door, hair a mess and with more buttons of his shirt opened. The wine bottle sitting on the counter beside you draws his attention immediately.

“What happened to you?” You can’t help but chuckle, your eyes following him until he stands against the wall just by your side.

He grabs the wine bottle from the counter and drinks straight from the tip, gulp after gulp falling down his throat as he quenches his thirst. “You left me alone with feral people and drank our wine alone.”

You laugh, handing him a matching wine glass as he grabs another bottle for himself after tasting yours. “I wanted to give you some time with them after having you all for myself.”

The guys always whine about not spending time with Seokmin in between the races he attends. They complain about you getting all the privileges and not sparing even a phone call for them—which you are guilty of. So, you don’t want to hear their bitching and whining again after tonight.

“Never do that again.”

Seokmin sighs dramatically, now pouring himself a proper glass of wine and then pouring the rest of it on yours before discarding the empty bottle in the trash can. He doesn’t waste time, clicking your glasses together in a toast and downing the liquid at record speed.

You do the same, eager to get on with the party. Hoping that it will never end.

The front door closes shut under the push of your hands and there's finally silence.

You look back at the, somehow, clean living room the guys left behind, but sigh at the reminder of everything that was left in the kitchen. It's not the worst you've seen, but it's not something you want to deal with.

Seokmin's grabbing stray beer cans and putting them away in a trash bag he placed on the floor. He shouldn't be cleaning up the mess that solely exists because of you. But he's nice, too nice, and wouldn't let you close to the mess.

“Go see the guys out and I'll clean up.” He said, ushering you away from the messy kitchen and into the pathway to the door.

“You need to rest for tomorrow. Let me, please.” You tried to take the bag from his hands, but he’s faster and stronger, and it was away from your reach in less than a second.

“Stop arguing with me on our last moments together!” He retorted, using your words against you, and that won him the argument.

But now, with your one job done, and your friend ignoring you in the name of dish washing, your mind wanders to dangerous places.

After tonight, it will never be the same. He’ll be too busy, too famous, wanted by everyone around him. He said he’d never stop annoying you, but what happens when the rich parties inevitably make him realize the people back home don’t compare to his new circle?

The surge in thoughts about the future triggers the hangover headache prematurely. Red wine always has two different possible outcomes: either you make bad and stupid decisions or you get the worst hangover ever known to the human species. Seems that tonight you’re getting the latter.

“I'm making us hangover smoothies. I don’t want to feel dead tomorrow.”

His blender is where you knew it would, sitting untouched and with a layer of dust accumulated on top.

Seokmin doesn’t argue with you, “use anything I have left. Can’t let it go to waste.”

Opening his fridge after his approval, you’re met with the squeaky clean white interior and a few vegetables you’ll for sure use. “Why do you have an unopened bag of spinach when you’re leaving for months?”

“So you could use it for your anti-hangover concoctions," he lies, and you side-eye him so hard he bends over laughing. “Use it all and stop judging me.”

Every green vegetable you find goes into the blender, with a lot of lemon juice and the last few ice cubes that weren’t used for drinks.

Blender noise fills the comfortable silence that falls between you two as Seokmin finishes the dishes and rests against the cabinets behind you. Your body tingles, feeling his stare on your back, watching your every more.

The kitchen is too narrow, and Seokmin knows you hate it because you told him about a million times. There isn’t space for him to be standing where he is, yet, you can’t find it in you to complain. It’s the last time you’ll have him this close to you for a long time.

Seokmin’s eyes follow you as you find the glass cups you always use for your smoothies and pour the green liquid in.

“I have to clean that now.”

“Don’t complain about my good deed,” you roll your eyes as you hand him his part of the hangover cure, “I'll do it tomorrow in the morning."

He chuckles and gulps down the drink, as he always does despite not believing when you say it helps with feeling better after drinking. You rest your hips against the counter, angling your torso backwards and hoping the added centimeters between you will help the suffocating feeling of Seokmin standing so close.

The overpowering taste of spinach takes a few sips to get used to, but you don't flinch at the bitter taste, knowing you're under Seokmin's scrutinizing gaze even if you're avoiding his eyes.

“It's not your best,” he says, reading your mind.

“You're the one that forced me to put in a whole bag of spinach!”

Knowing there’s no way you’ll finish the awful smoothie, and using it as an excuse to still not look at Seokmin, you put the half-empty glass in the sink.

“I told you I had it just for you,” he states with full honesty. And you hate that you believe him.

There it is again. The invisible line about to be crossed. There must be something in the air. Maybe the mix of questionable old vegetables and lemon juice made you delirious.

“Should I feel insulted?” 

“I knew you’d want to make a smoothie so neither of us feel like shit tomorrow,” Seokmin shrugs, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. It could be. It should be. But, judging by your pulse accelerating, it doesn’t feel like it. 

“Yeah! And now the only thing I’m capable of making in a kitchen is ruined!” You try to joke, to ease the tension in the room, to stop being so twitchy under Seokmin's gaze. But everything feels too warm, too something. “I’ve never put that much of anything into my creations.”

To your demise, Seokmin chuckles, getting off where he was resting against and taking one step into your personal space.

“So, when I peed purple for a week straight, that was a complete coincidence?”

Your breathing stops as he stretches in front of you to place his empty glass on the counter. His expensive perfume is all around you, his chest your sole view, and you get goosebumps at the warmth of his body against yours.

“How was I supposed to know that beet turns pee purple?”

His head’s tilted down, eyes on you again and resting his body on a hand too close to yours on the counter.

“It doesn’t unless you put too much in what you eat!” His smirk is all you need to know he's teasing you on purpose. But you can't seem to shut up, wanting to fill an incoming silence at all cost. 

“Well, I hope you enjoyed your last party and last smoothie with me, ‘cause no other hangover cure will ever compare to mine.”

Seokmin takes a deep breath, realizing, once again, that even if things aren't changing, a lot is. His kind smile turns sad as memories flash through his eyes.

“I had a lot of fun. Thank you.”

The moment's changing. You feel it in the air. All the borrowed time you got with him, time you took for granted, is now coming to an end. He'll leave and you'll stay behind, like you always do.

“The guys are all going to miss you,” words stumble out of you, the only way you find to freeze time, to be with him for a little longer. “I can't believe you agreed to let those two use your washing machine! I swear if they call me to come help them I'm—”

Words stop coming out of your mouth, a pair of lips against yours sealing them shut.

Seokmin's hands cup both sides of your jaw, so gently you barely notice them there over the feeling of his mouth against yours. The noise all around you quiets down for the first time since the big news.

That is, until you realize what's happening, and your hands, that were sneaking up his torso and almost wrapping around his neck, push him back.

His wide eyes connect with yours as your eyelashes flutter open. “I’m sorry, I—” He starts, and both of your apologies come out over the other.

“N-no, no, it’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting it,”

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,”

“It’s not that I didn’t like it,”

“And you wouldn’t shut up, so I—”

“Actually, I think I did like it—”

“What?” You both ask at the same time, registering what the other was saying.

Can he sense the rapid beating of your heart? Is that why his smile keeps widening?

You're sure the warmth you feel growing on your face is visible from a mile away. Concealing your thoughts and feelings is hard in his eyes. He reads you like an open book, there's no way he can't see the fireworks he just lit up in you.

For the first time since knowing Seokmin, no words come out of your mouth, too focused on the growing electricity all around. You pushed him away, but he’s still close, too close. His kiss’ repercussions in your body and soul aren’t disappearing, the feeling of his lips against yours so palpable you’d think they were still there.

All the times you found yourself contemplating how it’d feel to kiss your best friend, and all the times you ushered the thought away, the conclusion was always a negative one. Everything would change, it wouldn’t work, or he’d hate you.

But now, he isn’t backing away, there isn’t disgust in his eyes, which haven’t left your lips since you separated. You’re still you, and he’s still him, standing in his kitchen, using the narrowness of it as an excuse for your closeness.

“You did that to shut me up,” you repeat the last part of his confession.

“And you liked it,” he chuckles again, but you catch as he takes another deep breath, a nervous tick he's always had.

“You're so annoying,” you mutter, with your lips still tingling from his touch.

“Yeah, but you're still gonna miss me.”

Maybe Seokmin knows you too well. Maybe he knows that his smirk and his stare going from your lips to your eyes make a mess of your organized mind. You had a plan for the night. A well thought out plan that didn’t include making eyes at each other and reconsidering your friendship.

“Yeah, I will,” you reply in a beat.

Because you will. Because the thought of being away while his life changes so much is scary. Because you’ll become nothing to him while he’s everything to you. Because you won't be with him while his dreams come true. Because you’ve been standing on the sidelines for so long, loving him more than you should.

And yet, he’s here now. Your Seokmin. Refusing to leave your side, with the buttons of his shirt enticingly open and his parted lips a remainder of where they just were. His stare’s lost on the lower part of your face, mind racing with thoughts you hope are similar to yours. Desire. Longing. Want.

Seokmin takes the tiniest step forward, enough to have your chests colliding. You’re not breathing, you can't, waiting for what his next move will be. His hands find their place on both sides of your waist, holding you in place even if there’s no chance you’re running away.

With his face so close, his breath fans over your awaiting lips, a sick game to have you at his mercy. His smile fades the closer he gets, eyeing you for what it feels like hours before asking, “Can I kiss you again?”

Your response is automatic, as if your body knew what he’d say. “Please.”

It comes out as a whisper, and you barely finish the word before he’s on you again.

All doubt is erased the second his lips mold with yours, evaporating into the steamy atmosphere. Letting yourself dwell in this re-kindled desire, you sigh as he dominates the new kiss, soft yet needy as his hands push your chest further against his.

Your hands find the back of his neck, threading with his hair and tightening your grip. Seokmin bites at your lower lip in retaliation. Both pushing and pulling, bringing the other closer until there’s no speck of space left between you.

The marble counter digs into your lower back, but that pain becomes the least of your worries when Seokmin’s tongue swipes your lower lip, asking for access. The mess of teeth and tongue flushes your whole body from top to bottom.

The lemon and spinach mix with the faint taste of wine as your tongues meet. It’s messy in a way you never thought Seokmin would kiss like.

How many girls had the honor of feeling him against them, his lips gliding over theirs instead of yours. All the opportunities you missed due to digging your feelings into a grave they’re now popping out of. You can’t help melting against him. Finally yours. 

A hunger you’ve never felt before runs through your veins, looking for a way to feel Seokmin everywhere all at once, to get back all the time you could’ve gotten with him. His muscles tense under your touch, hands wandering everywhere you can reach. You know he feels it too. The want.

You moan in his mouth, and something takes over him. His arms get loose before you feel his hands gripping at your thighs, lifting you up until you’re sitting on the counter. The frenziness of it all blurs your surroundings. The sound of Seokmin’s forgotten glass falling into the sink is merely a background noise along with the wet sounds echoing in the kitchen.

Like a magnet, his hips find your legs spread for him, pushing his growing hard against your core with the barest amount of desperation, and that has you moaning sloppily against him once again. Thank the universe for making you choose to wear a skirt for the party.

Wanting more of him, your hands make space to sneak between your chests, undoing the last buttons holding Seokmin’s white shirt together. His warm skin gets chills under your cold fingers. His lips go still on yours as you feel down his chest, breathing into your mouth the further down you get.

Years of forbidding yourself even from peeking at him if he was showing a bit of skin. Years of wondering how his golden skin would feel against yours. Neither the past or the future matter. Now, you’re nothing more than two people looking to fulfill years of accumulated longing.

You tease his hardness over his jeans, earning a groan against your throat as Seokmin kisses down your neck. The both of you refuse to take your hands off the other, making it a chore to unbuckle the expensive belt he's wearing.

“Are we doing this?” Seokmin asks, voice hoarse against your skin.

In the haze of his hands on your ass and his lips pressing on your pulse point, feeling the acceleration, there's no time to doubt what you want.

“If you have a condom, then yes.”

Like the human of the male species he is, Seokmin takes out one out of his wallet at your request. He lays it on the table with a smirk, lips red and swollen all because of you.

“Should we talk about it?” He asks again when he feels your hands toying with the hem of his jeans.

The few layers of clothes don't do anything to hide Seokmin's bulge pressing against your core. And his hands go up and down the sides of your thighs, to tease you more or to draw your attention, you’re not sure, but it sends waves of arousal crashing through your body.

“What’s there to talk about?” It sounds stupid the second it leaves your mouth.

What should you say? That things won’t change after this? That things changed already? That you wanted this for so long you forgot how life was like before him? Too much talk. Too many feelings you don’t want to deal with just yet.

Seokmin looks at you, a mix of desire and scepticism all across his face. “You know—”

“Let’s just,” you interrupt him before he says anything that could break you, “see how it goes. We can talk after, but I need you right now.”

His throat bobs at your words. A fight going on in his mind that your hands interfere with, caressing his lower back.

“We don’t have to if you’re not sure.” You can pretend this never happened if he's doubting everything.

He takes another deep breath, releasing in half a moan that does nothing if not encourage the pulsing of your core against his. And you're sure he can feel it.

“Seok—” His mouth smashes against yours, cementing his decision.

Melting at his touch again is easy. The sound of fabric and metal hitting the floor draws your attention to the lack of another layer between you. He's big. Big in a way you know you'll feel his stretch for days after.

Your legs wrap around Seokmin's hips, pushing him so closely against you there isn't a single atom separating your bodies. His mouth on yours is merciless, his tongue working as if trying to memorize every crevice.

“I really, really want to eat you out,” he sighs into your lips.

“Nothing's stopping you, driver boy.”

Seokmin sees it in your eyes. A glint of desire that mirrors his. “You have the next world champion between your legs and you’re making jokes?”

Your eyes are locked with his as he sinks to his knees, his hands holding your thighs open until you're all he can see. His gaze turns hazy, descending down your heaving body until it lands on your poorly clothed core. His fingers hook on your sides, leaving you bare for his eyes to see.

The kitchen grows hot with every second Seokmin spends admiring the mess of juices he caused with a few kisses. All you want is for the ache to stop, to shrink before his stare and be satisfied from the years-long accumulated desire.

He takes you in, just millimeters away from where he wants and almost tipping you over the edge of the counter.

An experimental lick between your folds makes you both mutter equally hungry curses. His breath against your wet core drives a shiver up your body, followed by a rush of liquid fire through your veins.

“You haven’t—raced even o–once,” Half of his brain is paying attention to you talking, the other half concentrating on kissing your inner thighs and spreading your folds. Your pulse races, growing expectant seeing his lack of shyness. “You don’t have—fuck—bragging rights.”

Words get stuck as Seokmin attaches his mouth to your mound again, decided on making your brain scramble to make sense. 

He mumbles something in response, muffled by his tongue lapping at your juices and moaning like a starved man. You grip his hair, keeping him in place as the familiar fire begins to pool at the base of your stomach.

“I’m not—” he nods against your core, cutting away any possible thought from your head.

You feel his smirk against you, as if the embarrassingly quick way he has you done for him was amusing. He knows your signals, learned to interpret your body language, all for this moment. To please you correctly.

Delving his tongue in your entrance, your whole body quivers as his nose bumps against your clit. Your insides clench around nothing, walls begging to be stretched and dripping arousal for him to taste.

Your hand tightens on his hair as your hips grind against him, chasing the light ahead with your eyes shut tight.

“Fuck, you're so good,” your words feed his eagerness, now more determined to show you just how good he can make you feel.

Each swipe of his tongue gets faster and harder, and he doesn't seem to mind that your hand's keeping his head suffocatingly close to your core. You'd be worried if it wasn't for the mix of grunts echoing against the kitchen walls at every wave of arousal dripping out of you. He might even be enjoying it more than you.

His hands try to keep your legs open for him, but you lose control of your body feeling the coil snap hard at the flick of his tongue. It's his strong hold against the trembling of an earth-shattering orgasm sending trembles down your body.

Your body goes limp, weight falling back when you let loose Seokmin’s head and place your hands on the counter for support. He licks every sensitive part of your core, looking straight into your eyes as he cleans you up. A menace.

Oxygen takes work to get in your lungs. Mixed feelings colliding and getting your soul sucked out of you was not how you planned to end the day. But Seokmin gives you no time to ponder about it any longer.

His lips find yours once again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You bring him closer, attempting to get rid of his godforsaken shirt so you can see him properly.

“Are we in a rush?” He chuckles, but lets you take it off him without getting in your way.

“Mhm.” The plastic packet warms up in your hands before you tear it open and roll the condom down your friend's length. “If you're not in me in the next two seconds, I might die.”

“Glad you're not dramatic.” His hands grip your thighs wrapped around his waist like he has all the time in the world.

“I'll go home and take care of it myself, then.”

Something inside him snaps at your teasing. A mix of desire and wonder flashes through his eyes. But before you get to question it, you feel the head of his cock dragging along your lower lips.

He prods at your entrance, and for a second, you worry if it'll fit. Every cackle you let out at your romance books comes back at you like a boomerang in the form of your hot best friend filling you up and stretching your walls in new ways.

Seokmin's hips stutter when he's all the way in, your insides quivering around him trying to get used to the stretch.

“I need a second,” you say at the same time as he announces, “I'm not gonna last.”

Your bodies are so close, you're not sure who chuckles first, but the vibrations travel from chest to chest and all the way down.

Slowly, the dragging along your walls beats the uncomfortable position on the counter. Seokmin’s strong arms hold you against him, setting the pace with his hips and moving your body to wherever he wants.

You let him take control, indulging in every feeling he sparks. From his fingers digging into your flesh, to his cock gently prying you open with every stroke. His soft grunts by your ear only egg you further. Everything is him. Time should stop right this second and never resume.

Your nails scratch Seokmin’s back when he reaches that point that makes you squirm, and everything turns blazing hot.

Seokmin’s thrusts lose control, making you lose your breath as he lifts you off the counter and drills into you, searching for his orgasm. Your arms wrap around his neck, fearing your inevitable fall to the floor. But, once again, Seokmin’s full of surprises.

His biceps cage your torso to his, almost effortlessly keeping you in the air to thrust with no control. You take it all, everything he has to give as he mumbles nonsense praise into your ear.

Waves come crashing out of nowhere, and Seokming holds you through it all. Shaking in the air as your walls pulsing around him trigger his pending orgasm. You’re so sensitive you can feel his length twitching and unloading into the condom.

A choir of deep breaths and curses echo around the silent kitchen. Seokmin sets your limp body on the counter again, discarding the used condom in the trash. You should probably take care of that.

There’s so many things to do still. “We should finish cleaning up.” Your voice comes out half a whisper.”

Seokmin pulls his pants back up after retrieving your panties from wherever he threw them. Your body craves something. More. You don’t do silence. You can’t.

You could say something more, start a serious discussion about your friendship, about the future, his future.

But there’s so many things to do. Clean. Talk. Leave.

One of your hands flies across the narrow kitchen and finds Seokmin's wrist. His eyes haven't changed in the seconds of ruffling silence. A glare of hope flashes through them.

There's so many things to do. But only one that you want to.

Pulling him back against you is easy. Finding his lips and opening up for him again is even easier. He lets you take control, nods against the skin of your neck when you mumble instructions in his ear, and carries you across his empty apartment into his bedroom.

The coffee burns the roof of your mouth before you gulp it down. Hopefully, the warm drink will help the ache on every one of your muscles. The bitter taste makes your forehead hurt, the perfect excuse to hide your face behind the mug and ignore everything else.

A pair of eyes in front of you digs holes through every surface you put between you and him.

“If you don’t spill the beans in the next five minutes, I’m leaving.” Seungkwan’s voice tears the invisible wall down.

“I already told you what happened,” you mumble as you take another sip.

The cozy coffee shop near your place felt like a nice place to sit down and have a hard conversation at first. But now, the tired people who just want their morning coffee to go to work feel like they're judging you.

They must all see your messed up hair and realize you've been wearing the same clothes for over 24 hours. Even the shame must be seeping through your pores, filling the air inside the place with the distinct smell of embarrassment.

Looking everywhere but at your friend, you first hear his sigh, then his hands are taking your distraction away from you.

“You slept with Seokminnie,” he starts, and you mutter a chorus of r-rated curses that don’t do anything to stop him. “That doesn’t explain why you called me at 6 in the morning and forced me to have a terrible breakfast just hours before my flight.”

“I needed to eat something and you guys ate everything left last night,” you avoid the topic, and Seungkwan sighs dramatically, again.

“You didn't go to the airport.”

Seungkwan, with his judging eyes and exaggerated grunts, has been your voice of reason since forever. He lays it thick, rips the band-aid off, whatever you wanna call it. You need the shock, you need to hear the words from someone else. Maybe it makes sense if it's not coming from your own over-thinking mind.

“He probably doesn’t even want me there.”

“You know,” he sets your stolen mug on the table, ready to dig and poke until you give him what he wants, “for someone with that many master degrees, you’re pretty stupid.”

“What the hell, dude!” There's nothing throwable at your reach, so you slap his hand away from the table.

“Why are you being like this?”

“I think sleeping with my best friend is a very reasonable thing to freak out about.”

“You said it was good!”

Seungkwan’s eyes are as wide as bowling balls. The initial sex news didn't surprise him at all, but your stupidity seems to have reached unprecedented levels.

“Did you accidentally tell him you’re in love with him or something?”

There's a beat of glaring silence before you say, “you know I didn’t do that.”

It's a recurring thought that you're used to covering up with much more important subjects. It's something you're entirely too careful about to just blurb it out in the middle of a careless bone.

He checks out his notifications with a shrug. “That explains why he’s not replying to my texts and screaming at me, I guess.”

“You’re texting him?!”

Your arm flies into Seungkwan’s personal space a bit too late, and he instantly holds his phone out of your reach.

“Team business! Go away!”

You scoff, but his attention is now on texting someone. To your knowledge, everyone on the team had the same flight except for Seungkwan, who had to get one later for reasons he decided not to tell you. You're glad he's here, still, witnessing his most dumb friend.

“What the hell did you do?” He asks again after he locks his phone and puts it in his pocket.

“Nothing! I just woke up and left.”

Seungkwan glares at you. You glare back. He's no mind reader, but he must be seeing something in you, and you desperately want to find out what it is and hide it.

“What?”

“Did you talk, at least?” You shake your head. “Left a note?” Another shake. “Why?”

“I don’t know! I couldn’t stay there.”

You ghosted your psychologist months ago, but you know she'd say something about not being able to face the consequences of your actions. You'd argue that you just wouldn't want to hold Seokmin back from what he always wanted. Tie him to you and his past life.

“So, you’re making me your accomplice.”

“And I'm the dramatic one.” You don't know how many more eye rolls you have in you.

Seungkwan crosses his arms on the table, which means the conversation is now a serious one. “What should I say if he asks where I was? Or if you talked to me?”

“Just—” air leaves your lungs in a sigh. “Don’t tell him, please? I can’t talk with him right now.”

“You’re going to have to, eventually. You know that, right?”

“His mind should be on his race in a few days. He needs to train, and I don't want to bother him with useless drama.”

“He won't contact you if he thinks you want space.”

“I need space! I'm going to talk to him after I practice my speech. I promise.”

After life restarts, when your Seokmin-less days become the new normal and the dread keeps you company, you'll do it. When you're sure you can live without him.

“Okay, now that the freaking out is over, can you please tell me what happened? I want excruciating detail.” The last of your coffee finds the wrong pipe down your system and you choke at Seungkwan's ask. “It's like being inside a soap opera!”

—

Every muscle ached. The soft mattress you were laying on did nothing to help your body stop tensing, but there were two big arms keeping you close to a human-shaped heater.

His skin felt soft all around, nothing in between you and him but an invisible wall you began to build as soon as you gained consciousness. His sheets enveloping you smelled like him, sweet and expensive.

You almost closed your eyes back and pretended it was all a dream. You'd wake up and you'd be back at your place, just another more than friendly dream about your best friend. Nothing out of the ordinary. But you couldn't.

Reminders of the night all over the bedroom attacked you when you opened your eyes.

In the corner of the room, his luggage judged you as you tried to free yourself from his grip. The party clothes scattered around the floor, the used condoms on the bathroom bin, framed pictures of the two of you over the years. Every stage of your friendship plastered inside the four walls.

There was time before his alarm went off. The alarm that'd set off his bright future.

Getting dressed was the easy part. Covering every bit of skin of your body Seokmin made his, dressing up with the clothes he took off. Putting yourself back together.

Your face in the mirror was the first jumpscare you confronted. Tear stains decorated your cheeks, your natural make-up a mess on your skin. His mess. Your heart squeezed as you scrubbed your face with foamy soap, trying to hold off on tearing up and making noise.

Seokmin's deep unknowing breaths were all you heard. His eyes fluttered closed and the tiniest smile on his face broke you a little more inside. You'd just ruin him.

Somewhere in the living room was your forgotten bag, with your half-charged phone and two sets of keys to different apartments. Seungkwan must've put Seokmin's back inside your bag without you noticing.

Outside the bedroom, beginning to forget the night before was easier. Without the constant reminders, and his fingers so close to where you always wanted, the journey to forget began.

The last reminder made you jump. Green goo stuck to the dirty blender still on the counter, with a broken glass dumped in the sink, victim of two rushed people out of their mind.

For once, you wished you were drunk. You wished there was an external component to help you blur the events of the night. Memories that will inevitably hurt you and the friendship you've built for so many years.

Maybe, if you fuck up first, the heartache would be easier, too. If it was your fault, and not his. If you broke his heart before he had the chance to figure out he could do better.

Closing the door behind you, cementing your decision, was the hardest thing you did that morning.

—

“I should’ve known there was a vibe after that bullshit you told me about dying and whatever,” Seungkwan observes after carefully listening to your rendition of the morning.

“What are you talking about?”

“You were making a scandal about me drinking from your glass and then Seokmin came in and drank straight from your bottle. I couldn’t believe it, but you're both so weird I didn’t think much of it, and—”

His rambling continues, and you'd be offended by him calling you weird, if you weren't busy having slight memory issues.

“When did he—I don’t remember any of that.”

“Oh, but it happened. My memory never fails.” At your confused expression, he presses. “Were you that drunk?”

“I wasn’t drunk! And I made hangover smoothies after, I told you.”

Everything feels so natural with Seokmin, that sometime during your friendship you stopped paying attention to his actions so you wouldn’t overthink about what they meant.

“I still hate drinking from the same cup.”

“Oh,” Seungkwan wiggles his eyebrows and gets his hand slapped again, “It’s just your awful memory then.”

“Shut up, asshole. My memory’s just fine.”

Seungkwan checks his watch out of habit. He probably should already be leaving for the airport, needing to get there a few hours prior and all that.

“You need to go.”

You don’t want to keep him any longer. He also has his future ahead. Having an existential crisis can wait.

“I don’t want to leave you freaking out. What if you do something horrible? Like getting a face tattoo?”

“Fuck, I should cancel my appointment, then.” Seungkwan laughs, though skeptically. “I can figure it out, I promise.”

You know he's worried. About you, about Seokmin. His eyes analyze every micro-expression on your face, and you try to be as serious as possible.

“I'm always a text away,” he settles on saying. “A call too, but let's do those less often.”

“Don't worry about that. I need peace and quiet, and you talk too much.”

“Bitch,” he mutters and pretends to gather his things. But he should be doing it for real. 

“Okay, now leave!” You usher him away, leaving him no choice but to obey after making a scene. “Have a safe flight!”

“Hope you had safe sex!” He yells back, louder than he needs to.

“I hate you! And I hope your plane crashes!”

“I'll miss you, too!”

People stare at you, and now that Seungkwan's out the door and moving on, you care.

There's so much silence without him, just you with your thoughts and judging stares from the other clients in the café. The pressure’s there, all around you, to get it together.

Will you be able to live without Seokmin this time? Not just kilometers away from you, but actually ignoring you? It's your fault, there's no denying it. 

You'll get it together. You'll reach out to him first. Fix your friendship after fucking up tremendously. Easy.

The first few days pass with dread. Empty and gray. Sticking to your new routine is the way you found to not get lost in the emptiness, or in the unwanted thoughts.

Going back to college fills your every day. New classes to attend, assigned readings, essays. Anything you can do to stop the tsunami of thoughts, you do. But, if the three books and the open laptop in front of you prove something, it's that it’s not working.

You managed to snatch a table for yourself at the library—not that it was hard since no one willingly is on campus on a Saturday afternoon, decided on putting your mind to work on something. But you’re not stressed enough to do school work yet, and the people all around you talk so loudly, you find yourself listening to them to pass the time.

Gossip about people you don’t know is always interesting. Some girl kissed her friend’s ex at a party, another girl failed her first exam in her life, then a muscular guy chased the librarian around to look for something too specific. Fun to hear, but you take your phone out anyway. Less possibilities to form a thought.

You sip from your untouched black coffee on the table, only to realize it’s not coffee and it's not yours. It’s what Seokmin always drinks: a matcha with three packets of sugar. You always put his order first, and you must’ve automatically ordered his favorite instead of yours this time. Embarrassing.

The green drink goes down your throat with a sting.

Scrolling through social media, you can't escape your wrong-doings, or your algorithm. The timeline’s filled with clips and posts from the Qualifying, mostly people complaining about their favorite driver's position on the grid for Sunday.

There's only one person you'd share tweets with and laugh about the ridiculousness of some people's opinions.

Further down, you see what you were half avoiding, half expecting to see.

“Lee Seokmin, eliminated in Q1.”

You had talked about it, the possibility of him not doing great during the first races. Even though your little knowledge of how races work and his refusal to tell you the team's strategies snowballed in your brain into the idea that it was impossible for him to do poorly.

Starting P16 isn't bad for a first race in a Grand Prix. It can't be! Your fingers itch to text him, to encourage him, somehow. His chat glows on your screen, almost growing cobwebs from the inactivity.

Seungkwan was right. You knew it even before he said it out loud. Seokmin wasn't going to contact you first, he'd wait until you were ready to talk, not wanting to pressure you.

His profile picture taunts you. A photo you took yourself over time he came to visit. He'd made you drive him to the beach and you watched him surf for hours, not without hearing at least five pleas for you to join him.

You had your fun, staring into the ocean, seeing Seokmin riding the waves infuriatingly well. Was there nothing he was bad at? You remember taking your phone out, recording him riding the tallest wave you'd seen until then. Then a picture, and more as he came out of the water and ran to you with the biggest, proudest smile on his face.

Your stomach turns. That won't ever happen again. You're sure he'll never direct a smile that is happy and warm to you ever again.

You lock your phone and put it away before you do something stupid. He's probably busy for the race the next day. A text from you will only make things worse, you're sure.

—

Against your better judgement, and breaking your promise to not think about a certain driver, you find yourself seated in front of your small TV. Your inner alarm clock woke you up almost automatically to catch the tests before the race starts.

Race Day craze was all over your social media, with clips of every driver and predictions being almost inescapable. You couldn't catch the pre-race interview some driver is always subjected to, but you're on time for everything else.

Seokmin's face fills your screen before you have the chance to open the camera app. The dark blue uniform makes him look serious, his smile nowhere to be seen on his concentrated face.

The last time you saw him, he was peacefully sleeping on his bed with his lips curled. That Seokmin looks nothing like the one being filmed as he puts on the colorful helmet and gets in the car.

Your heart pounds inside your chest as if you were the one about to drive, and a mix of nervousness and excitement reverberates from your head to your toes. For a moment, even if your best friend hates your guts, you're as happy for him as you've ever been.

Regret. A painful regret punches you in the gut. He doesn't look sad, but there’s something missing in him. The little wrinkles beside his eyes, that shine of warm happiness that followed him everywhere.

Seokmin hates you. He has to. You changed everything then dipped before you could make sense of what happened, together. The Seokmin you see on your screen must no longer be your best friend. Not even your friend.

You look at his contact again, unsure if he'd want you to reach out after all. You lost him for good. All the hope you've harbored trying to get your feelings in order, now gone.

His voice coming from the speakers startles you. It’s important for drivers to check if their mic and radio work, and usually they’ll just say nonsense or sing a song they like so their engineers know what the issue is, if there’s any.

The last time you heard his voice, he was mouthing lust-filled nonsense against your naked back. 

Then, the first lines of a song you thought Seokmin would never sing in public reach your ears.

“You're insecure, don't know what for.”

You cackle as your eyes go back to the screen. You can’t see his face under the helmet, except for his crescent moon shaped eyes as he sings.

“You're turning heads when you walk through the door.”

Could there be hope?

To everyone listening on the paddock and at home watching the TV, Seokmin’s just singing a 2011 pop staple. But, to you, it’s a sign that your best friend might not hate you after all.

Countless were the karaoke nights you sang that song together until your lungs couldn’t take it anymore. Seokmin, as always, gave the performance of his life every single night, out-singing you and your pitchy screams.

But it wasn’t about the singing. That song became a joke between you two. You’d hear it in the supermarket and you had to send him a voice message. When it came on the radio, you’d look at each other with twinning grins and burst out laughing. It was your song, and now, he’s singing it knowing the whole world is watching him.

Does he know you’re watching too? He has to know you’d never miss something so important to him. You waited for him outside a class after your first fight. You paid for his meal one time you argued and he left the restaurant. Across the timeline of your friendship, you fought so many times, but never failed to be there for him.

People laugh off screen, and Seokmin keeps singing until they tell him everything's working fine. He concentrates on the car and the circuit in front of him, arms tensing as he fixes his posture.

Seokmin starts the race quickly after, and you watch it all with more enthusiasm than ever. You don't want to miss any detail to make sure you tell him everything after.

Unfortunately, he doesn't earn any points for the championship. But ending at P17 isn't bad at all! Sometimes finishing the race in one piece is all that matters, or so Seokmin said a lot of times after you made fun of him during his F2 era.

From the way he gets out of the car, you can tell he's disappointed. His slouched shoulders that don't match the weak smile he shows the camera give it away.

A few reporters rush to shove their mics in Seokmin’s face, ignoring the sweat dripping down from his hair onto them. You barely hear some of the questions thrown his way, but he picks some one by one and answers perfectly.

“How do you feel after your first race?”

He rakes his fingers through his damp hair before answering, “It was all I ever dreamed. A little disappointed at the result, but now I can only go up!”

His answer eggs the reporter on, who chuckles as the few that didn't get their questions chosen move on to other drivers.

“It was a good start today, but you couldn't recover the spot you lost after the pit stop.”

“It was unfortunate, yeah. The soft tyres we changed into degraded quickly and I couldn't gain back any spot,” Seokmin replies expertly. “Still, I'm happy to have finished, and I hope I have a good season ahead!”

“Your family must be very proud of you, seeing you race after being a reserve driver for so long.” The reporter sounds captivated by Seokmin, continuing with the interview when he could’ve stopped after the race feedback.

“I hope they are,” he chuckles and your stomach turns. “Everybody back home was excited to see me today.”

“I'm sure they’re waiting to call you as soon as you’re done here.”

“I’ll be waiting by the phone, mom!”

There’s no denying the natural charm Seokmin delivers with each word. His answers are all effortless, and he doesn’t look bored or bothered by the questions. You knew it before, but it gets clearer and clearer that that’s where he’s meant to be.

“Anyone special back home? Any girl you’re hoping to impress?”

Seokmin chuckles with embarrassment, and you feel heat rushing up your cheeks.

“There might be. I'm not sure, yet.”

“C'mon! Now you're a professional driver, who would let you get away?”

“I wish it was up to me,” he chuckles again with an unreadable expression. “It was good talking to you, man! See you after the next race!”

“Sure will!” The reporter replies and the next driver shows up on screen. But your eyes follow Seokmin's figure blurring further and further in the background until he disappears.

You can fix this. You won’t let your stubbornness get in between him and you. He gave you the sliver of hope you needed. Whether he meant it or not.

Bitter taste envelops your tongue from biting your nails, and you're sure you're carving a hole on your floor from pacing in circles. Your phone stares at you from the other side of your room, laughing at you.

Every minute that passes after the race that you’re not calling Seokmin is a wasted one. There really are only two options: either you call him and confront your mistake, or you never talk to each other again.

Both scenarios would result in losing him. Though, living in a world where Seokmin isn’t a part of your daily life seems even worse than admitting your feelings out loud. There has to be a way to keep him by your side still.

Seokmin’s picture shows up on your screen. Your phone is in your hand and you’re calling him. Blood pumps faster and faster from your heart, but there’s no time to panic.

“Hi,” Seokmin’s voice buzzes through the line.

The shock of him not ignoring your call makes you unable to speak for a few seconds. You were panicking so much, you forgot to rehearse what you were going to say to him.

“Hi, loser,” you say quietly over the silence.

His guard is up, no trace of a smile in his tone as he replies, “You saw the race.”

“I told you I wouldn’t miss it.”

Your earnest words fade into the awkward silence. You knew you'd have to push through it to get him to hear you. The next questions mumble out of your lips, so quickly you regret them instantly.

“How are you? How’s the fame treating you?”

“It’s fine. Nothing really changed, just more people watching.” His tone's flat like never before.

“I hope you're not too bummed about the result. I know you're going to do great in the coming races!”

He only hums in response.

The deafening silence creates a black hole inside your room, sucking any idea you could possibly get to alleviate the awkwardness. He’s waiting for you to talk, that’s clear.

“Listen, I wanted to talk to you, about…” the words take work to get out of you, and in the end, it doesn’t even sound like you intend to. “What happened at the party.”

“You left,” he says, with simplicity, with hurt.

“I panicked,” you rush to half-explain. “I'm sorry.”

There’s so much more behind your words, so many things you can’t bring yourself to address out loud.

“We could’ve talked about it, together.”

“I know. I know you wanted to.”

Seokmin's doing a great job at presenting the facts, but not helping you form a forgiveness-earning speech. Dryness was expected from his part, but you didn’t expect words to be so hard to find after hearing his voice.

“There’s no excuse for what I did. I was awful. I shouldn’t have left and I shouldn’t have ghosted you all week when it was so important for you.” Your throat tightens as tears begin brimming from your eyes. “I’ve been a terrible friend, and I’m truly sorry.”

The line falls dead as he considers your apology. Knowing how important this race and the entire week was for him, you don’t expect Seokmin to forgive you easily. You don’t even deserve it. And if he’s willing to give you another chance, you’ll work hard to earn his trust again.

You can almost picture his face as he breaks the silence. “I didn't mean for it to change things between us.”

Seokmin's words leave a sour aftertaste, even though it’s what you wanted to hear. He wants to stay friends. You should be thrilled.

“Good,” you exhale. “I don't want things to change either.” If there’s disappointment in your voice, he shows no signs of realizing.

“I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“No, stop that.” You jump in place. “You didn't do anything wrong. It was me who ran away like a coward.”

“You're right,” he chuckles in response, and a sense of familiarity takes over the call. “And I had to clean the blender.”

“Fuck! I'm sorry for that, too.” He's back to teasing you, and you're easily embarrassed.

You laugh together as if everything was okay again. As if the ghost of his fingers on your skin and his tongue on yours didn't wake you up every night in a cold sweat.

“Can we just—It may not be fair for me to ask you this, but, can we pretend it didn't  happen?”

It. You can't even say it.

His breathing slows, thinking carefully. You fear you're about to lose him, again.

“I don't want us to fight,” you over-explain, and he sighs.

“Me neither.”

“And you actually can't be mean to your fans, so, you'll be forced to talk to me no matter what.”

After what it feels like years, your body relaxes. Hearing him chuckle because of you again feels good, warm, right.

“You're my fan now?”

“I've always been. Ever since you got your driver's license.”

You're so honest, the rest of the truth almost slips out. But it's not fair to him. You can't just blurt everything out over a call and expect him to be okay with it.

Instead, you let him ramble about the car, the race and the team. And you hear and comment about every detail. Because you're also excited for him.

You talk for hours, and the awkwardness fades away as the call progresses. With you telling him how it feels to go back to college and him explaining the differences between f1 and f2 to help you understand things for the next races.

He doesn't have to know that you googled everything the day before. You're happy he's willing to talk to you like everything is normal again. You won't waste your second chance.

Your windbreaker jacket fights for its life against the storm you didn't realize was coming into town until it was too late.

The rain and you have become one.

Your socks stick uncomfortably to your feet inside your drenched sneakers, and you can only hope the jacket covered your bag enough so your things didn’t get ruined.

You enter your building, in a better mood now that there’s a roof over your head after walking from the bus stop. Almost instantly, you open the camera app, take a photo of your soaked hair sticking to your face and send it to Seokmin before hopping on the elevator.

In hopes of restoring most of the normalness you’re able to, you’ve begun texting every day with him, mainly with mundane updates about your days that easily turn into conversation.

A new notification makes your phone buzz in your hand, and your heart races with anxiety and excitement; the new mix of feelings you started getting when talking with Seokmin.

Getting a text from your best friend shouldn't feel giddy, it shouldn't draw an instant smile on your face and make your hands tremble.

Still, you try. You try to answer his questions about your new major as a best friend would. You send him posts you see on your timeline about the racing season, and he sends you memes about university. You try not to zoom in on the mirror selfies he sends daily and try not to remember the feeling of being wrapped in those same arms.

It's late at night for you, but for Seokmin, the day just started. ‘Heading out to train’, said his last message before your storm selfie. That was over half an hour ago.

You change into dry clothes and flop down on your couch as your blood pressure drops seeing his new texts.

‘You need to stop your hate for umbrellas’, reads the immediate response to your photo. You'd argue that it wasn't your refusal to carry umbrellas this time, and you genuinely didn't know it was going to rain. But the next few texts restrict the oxygen flow to your brain.

Seokmin's sitting sideways, with his full body on display and his side profile almost testing you from far away. The angle makes it so the empty gym occupies most of the photo-space, but your eyes don't see anything else other than him.

Two dumbbells sit at the sides of his feet, probably unused as he doesn't look sweaty yet. The black shorts he's wearing don't do anything to hide his thigh muscles as they tense from the position he's in. Muscles you felt slapping against your own not long ago.

Deep inside you, a sliver of guilt appears, trying to overshadow the turmoil beginning to pool at the pit of your stomach.

You've tried to push down everything Seokmin makes you feel that you shouldn't. But it's so hard when the very sight of his body takes you back to that night again.

The lights inside your home remain off. You forgot to turn them on when you came in, and only a few rays of the street lampposts bleed through your curtains. It's so dark, it's easy to step over the embarrassment and let the desire, that you fought so hard to hide, win.

As your hand pushes down past the hem of your jeans, the inner fight going on in your mind blurs completely. That night is burned on your eyelids like a tattoo. It follows you everywhere you go, but it’s forever only in your mind.

Your body quivers imagining Seokmin’s hands are touching you and not yours. You burn with embarrassment and lust, body flushed as his muscles flex below you. How it would feel to have his fingers inside you, longer, deeper, and looking to please you until you’re done for.

The ghost of that night drives you to the finish line. Sticky, tired, and knowing it can never happen again.

Your phone buzzes on the table with more notifications. You never answered him, blinded by what isn’t real.

If Seokmin notices you leaving him on read for a suspicious amount of time, he doesn’t comment on it. His next few texts are all complaining about the new routine they have him on, but then saying he enjoys the challenge and seeing the results.

Those results are going to make your life really hard moving forward.

When old people complain about the new generation being addicted to their phones, you always argue that it’s the new way we have, as a society, to learn new things every day. Sure, you can get misinformation from anyone, even on the internet, but the easier access makes everything faster.

Besides, the older generation is just as addicted as they claim others to be. You’d go even as far as to say that it’s worse for them.

You would, but you’ve been proving old people right for the past few days.

For Fridays to be your busiest day of the week, full of classes and group meet-ups for projects, your screentime resembles too closely the one of a 10 year old addicted to tiktok. You’ve been constantly checking your notifications for the past two days, and always see your lockscreen empty.

Waiting for your order at the coffee shop you had a heart to heart with Seungkwan a few weeks ago, it just looks like Seokmin decided to hate you again.

Reeling back to when you apologized, everything seemed fine! Your last text conversation didn’t differ from how you’ve been talking.

If you did something to pass him off again, it would be nice for him to tell you for once.

The bartender's loud voice startles you out of your thoughts. “Iced matcha latte!”

You groan at your changing coffee order but take the cup from the worker regardless. The table you've become a regular off is empty, and you sit on your self-assigned chair to contemplate your life's twists and turns.

The text conversations with Seokmin don't stray far away from friendly updates and banter here and there. He hasn't been available for calls either, so you know you didn't slip and said something you weren't meant to.

The last picture Seokmin sent you catches your attention. He had the day off and his teammate invited him to spend the day at his yacht.

Blueish teal water surrounds him, but even if there's nothing inherently insinuating about the picture, you can't avoid looking at his face for longer than necessary. Your eyes then steer to his naked shoulders, imagining what's below the edge of the photo.

You've sunk your teeth on those shoulders, felt that very same nose against your core and came so hard you forgot how to breathe.

Seungkwan’s name flashes on your screen with an incoming video call, making you jump on your seat and gaining you a few weird looks. 

After taking a deep breath, you check your airpods are still connected before accepting the call.

“I can't believe I have to call you myself to get in touch with you!” He accuses as soon as you pick up.

You try your best not to gasp too loud. “You told me not to call you!”

“A text wouldn't hurt either,” Seungkwan rolls eyes. “And I know you've been texting ‘Mister Yacht Party’, so don't tell me you haven't had time.”

With everything going on, and you trying to ignore anything even remotely related to Seokmin in case you slip up, you’ve forgotten about the other relationships in your life too. Your incapability to interact normally with Seokmin made you grow apart from everyone, in case they ask, in case they realize.

“Okay, I yield. I'm sorry, I should've texted you.”

Seungkwan, even if he knows what happened, is still as busy as Seokmin. You didn’t want to bother him with your college girl problems.

“Thank you. That's nice to hear.” He shows a genuine smile. “How have you been?”

“Classes and group projects and all. I don't want to annoy you with my boring routine.”

“Not that I like being annoyed, but you should tell me anyway! It's not boring to me if you like what you’re doing.”

It's heartwarming and annoyingly sweet of him, and you'd tear up if you weren't in public. “Thank you, really, but I want to talk about you! The new hotshot mechanic in Formula 1!”

His ears grow red with embarrassment. “I'm just observing the actual mechanics do their job for now.”

“That's how you learn! They'll eventually ask you to hold some tools and then you'll be working with the cars in no time!”

“Let’s hope the universe hears you,” he chuckles his words out.

In the background, you see a shadow of a figure moving before hearing Seokmin's voice. You don't quite get what he's saying to Seungkwan, but your body freezes as their focus goes away from you.

You haven't called Seokmin since you apologized weeks ago, because he's busy and you still received his daily updates anyway. But his recent silence put a stop to any progress you thought you made.

A door closes on Seungkwan’s side of the call, and his attention comes back to you. You have to pretend to be cool about it.

“So, how do you feel about that new lifestyle of his? Partying with famous people and all.”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. I’m a mechanic, not his manager,” he throws you a glitchy knowing look. “I'd like it more if he found a way to get me invitations, though.”

“I'm sure they all invite their teams to their rich men hangouts.”

“Well, they invite their friends and I'm trying to replace you.” You're about to argue when he continues, “But I'm not letting his dick anywhere near me, so I guess I'm at a disadvantage.”

You choke on your drink. “Don't say that out loud! What if he hears you? Oh my God.”

“Oh, don't be dramatic.” His evil smirk shows you no compassion. 

Your eyes scan the café in search of any wandering stares. “I shouldn’t have told you anything.”

“Too bad, you can't regret it now!” Seungkwan tries, but your worried expression doesn’t go away. “Don't worry about your sex drama. He just left anyway, he won't hear.”

The little information about Seokmin piques your interest. You guess it's his day off, since Seungkwan isn't working either, but he clearly had plans. You're not part of them. You haven't been for days now.

“Where did he go? He hasn't texted me in days.”

At your question, Seungkwan's expression turns. “Oh, shit,” he mutters under his breath.

“Are you kidding? What? What happened?”

“No, it's nothing. I'm sure he'll tell you.”

“So, there is something.” Nothing Seungkwan says helps calm you down.

“I didn't say that.”

“Come on. Did I upset him? Is he avoiding me? Is he getting drunk with Charles Leclerc again? Or worse, with Max Verstappen?”

Is it possible that Seokmin simply got tired? Maybe he realized texting wasn’t enough to keep a relationship going and decided to pursue something within his reach.

“You didn't do anything,” he sighs. You can't tell exactly why.

“Then, what? Where did he go?”

“He's doing something for his publicist.”

Whatever you thought his answer would be, that isn’t it. You didn’t even know Seokmin had a publicist, though it makes sense since he’s a public figure.

At your expectant face, Seungkwan realizes you need much more information than what he’s providing. “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“I'm going to fly wherever you are with the sole purpose of snapping your head off.”

“You don't scare me. You can't run a full block without getting the air knocked off you!”

“Besides the point! Just tell me already! I have no one to gossip with about famous people besides you, come on.” It's just gossip, you repeat to yourself. Celebrity gossip.

“Fine, but don't freak out, okay? Promise?” You nod, unsure but determined to know. “He's… on a date.”

For a second, your heart stops. “A date.”

“A PR date.” You glare at him, confused and paralyzed. “You know, when two managers arrange a dinner with two famous people to, like, boost their popularity.”

“Why the hell should he boost his popularity? He's a driver, not a fucking pop singer.”

“I know jack shit about marketing, don't ask me!” Seungkwan throws his free hand in the air, with his eyes wide at your reaction.

Your mood drops to new lows. If you weren't in a busy café, you're sure your throat would begin closing as a warning for incoming tears.

“Look. They just have to be seen hanging out. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It sounds like something if this is why he's been avoiding me.”

“I'm sure he has his reasons.”

If it was just a PR strategy, Seokmin would text you complaining about it. At least past Seokmin would have. The Seokmin you didn't ruin.

Any effort you were doing to seem uninterested fades. “Who is she?”

“Nope! We're not doing this.”

“W-why?”

“Because it doesn't matter!” Seungkwan almost yells.

“It does! His publicist team wouldn't choose someone random. They at least have to seem to have chemistry.”

This is what you were afraid of, Seokmin finding new people and realizing you're not worth the trouble. It makes perfect sense he'd want to stop contacting you altogether.

“You didn't even know what a PR date was 5 minutes ago. You don't know how it works.”

“But it makes sense! You can't deny that.”

“I can. And I will,” he asserts. “You shouldn't overthink about it. It's just a one time thing.”

“Yeah, you're right.” Just a one time thing. “I don't care.”

“Good.” Seungkwan exhales in relief. But his relaxation is short-lived.

“I don't care if he dates! He has all the right to.”

“Oh, boy,” he mutters as you start your ramble.

“He's a free, single man who just became famous. Of course he has all kinds of beautiful women lining up for a chance.”

“That’s not what I meant, just saying.”

“It's a matter of time before he gets married to a beautiful and rich model who'll give him children with symmetrical faces and buy them designer onesies.”

“Your twisted mind keeps surprising me, years after years.”

“It's not twisted, I'm being realistic.”

Being realistic is the only way you can save yourself from bad situations. You set the expectations low enough that nothing surprises you, nothing tears you down, because you were prepared.

You and Seokmin are nothing more than friends. If you were anything more, the distance and his new relationships would make everything harder. With your busy college schedule and his training, there could be nothing else.

You'd hold him back. And that would be worse than seeing him date anyone else.

The next day, the news and social media are filled with photos of the new hot couple out to dinner. But you don't allow yourself to care more than you should.

The numbness helps. Even if your eyes itch at every new angle of the two of them talking at the table. Even if he shows her that same smile that makes your stomach flutter. Even if that girl isn't you. It shouldn't be you. It could never be.

After the spectacle the day before, you should’ve expected to find that girl’s face in the foreground as soon as you turn on your TV. You gave Seungkwan’s words some thought and believed him when he said it wasn’t something to worry about, that it was just a one time thing. It certainly is not.

They came into the paddock with their arms interlocked, ready for the cameras to show them to the whole world. As Seokmin went to get ready, she stood on his team’s side, with her effortless beauty and perfect fitting outfit.

The sour mood kept getting worse as the race preparations started. Seokmin doesn't hesitate and radio checks like normal, no singing involved.

It's your fault really. You had your expectations too high for the reality you live in. Seokmin’s not going to sing One Direction before every race to get your attention. Stupid.

The first hour blurs past with a debilitating heartache. Every time Seokmin does a successful overtake, the camera focuses on his new date. Her reactions fuels social media just as much as him doing well.

You don’t catch the rest of the race. You mentally can't handle it.

It's late in the evening, so the cashier at the supermarket doesn't look at you weird for buying a ridiculously priced red wine. It's too late when you realize the brand you gravitated towards.

The race is on its last laps when you get back. Your eyes stick to the screen, that you forgot to turn off when storming out, even if you don't want to. It's a tense game of overtaking, falling behind and the ranking changing with each lap before it finishes with Seokmin positioning P11.

You watch as he celebrates with his team. Everyone with smiles on their faces and palming Seokmin on the back. And she's also there.

He was really close to gaining points for the championship, which is huge for a new driver. You know he's probably at it inside his head, telling himself that he should've placed in the top 10.

The sports channel's now airing an old basketball tournament, formula 1 long gone from your screen. You stare at it blankly, with only Seokmin’s face as he got out of his car in your mind. You want to tell him that he did awesome. That no matter the position he ended at, with all the maneuvers he managed against the other drivers, he cemented himself as someone to watch out for.

You turn the TV off and head to bed, hugging the unopened wine bottle and trying to convince yourself not to do anything you'll regret. You know it's too late when you hear his voice over the speaker.

“Hi?” The sound of a door closing echoes through the line.

Once again, you called him. Instead, this time, there was no hope that he'd answer.

“Congrats on today.” There's no cheer on your tone. “You did great.”

“Thank you. I just got to the hotel.” You hum in response, not knowing what else to say. “I-I wondered if you were watching.”

“I was.”

Silence follows your affirmation. He didn’t expect you to call. You didn't think you would either.

“I'm guessing you saw…”

“I couldn’t really ignore it,” you say dryly.

“I was going to tell you but-”

You interrupt him, “It's okay if you didn't want to.” You know you have no right to be upset by a date, he doesn't owe you an explanation.

“I wanted to.”

“Oh.” He doesn't owe you an explanation. Doesn't matter how bad you want one.

“I just didn't know how.”

You think about it for a second. Does that mean he can just ghost you entirely? Do you have the right to complain when you did the same thing not long ago?

“I missed you these past days,” you decide to admit. “You didn't need to go all silent treatment on me.”

“I'm sorry, I really am. It was just—a weird situation.”

“Kwannie told me about it.”

“That weasel,” Seokmin mutters. “Yeah, he knew ‘cause I was with him when my manager called me.”

You chuckle, fixing your posture and laying face up in bed. “He didn't want to tell me but I forced him.”

For a second, everything feels normal again. Your smile shows back up as you stare at the ceiling, hearing Seokmin laugh lightly at what you said. He’s still your best friend.

You hear ruffles of sheets on his side. He's also in bed. “Why did you want to know?” If you shut your eyes, you could picture him laying with you.

“Why did I want to know the reason why my best friend was ignoring me?”

“Okay, fair. I'm sorry, again.”

“I was actually sad, you know,” you chuckle your words out. “I bought wine to get sad drunk and all.”

“Are you drunk in bed? What time is it?” Your stomach does a funny flip at his concerned tone, but you push it back down.

“I know it’s barely after noon for you, but it’s night time here,” you remark before taking a deep breath. “I didn't open the wine. I called you instead.”

“Good, ‘cause you can't be trusted when you're wine-drunk.”

“Okay, now I'm getting offended! When have I ever misbehaved when drunk?” You regret the teasing question as soon as it leaves your lips.

“Do I have to remind you of the last time we drank a whole bottle of red wine each?”

The conversation was going there regardless, but you still lose your breath at his mention. The forbidden topic. You shouldn’t be talking about it, but you need to clarify something to him before trying to delete it from your memory. It’s not much of a confession, you just need to get it out there.

“I wasn’t drunk.”

“I know,” he replies almost too quickly.

“It wasn't like I didn't know what I was doing.”

Seokmin might’ve initiated the kissing and touching, but you were just as eager as him. After all that time, he was kissing you like it meant something, and it was easy to ignore the uncertain future when his hands were on you and he was licking his way into your mouth so good.

“After you left, I just thought-”

“You shouldn’t worry. You didn't do anything wrong.”

The burden of that morning comes creeping into your mind. He still sounds hurt talking about it, and you wouldn't hold it against him if he still resented you.

“I know you don't want to remember it.” His words are so quiet you almost break. He might’ve forgiven you, but you didn't mend the wound you left him with.

“It's not that. I-” You want to explain, but you can't finish the thought.

“It's okay.”

“But it's not!” The darkness allows you to speak your feelings out loud. In the pitch black of your room, no one can judge you. “I do remember it. Like, a lot. And it's embarrassing.”

From the other side of the line, only breathing sounds can be heard. You shouldn't have said anything. You need to learn to shut up and stop making everything weird.

“I remember it, too,” he replies, shy and quiet. “Every day.”

Oh. Goosebumps creep up your body, your blood sizzling traveling through your veins from head to toe.

You want to believe him so bad. “You don't have to say that just because I did.”

“I'm not. You need to stop putting words in my mouth.” Seokmin sounds severe, tired of going around circles but never getting to the point.

“I can't really see your reactions through a call.” You try to hide your nervousness behind a chuckle. “You could be making puking faces and I wouldn't know.”

“Isn't my word enough?”

“It's not. Sorry,” you chuckle again. What else can you do?

“Close your eyes,” he instructs.

“For what?” You ask, incredulously, but still do as he says.

“Close your eyes. Imagine me there, like we're talking face to face.” He sounds so calm, all while your thoughts reel looking for an answer as to what he's doing. “Are you laying down?”

“Yes.”

“What would you say if I was there?”

“I-I don't know.” Your voice shakes, anxious and expectant.

“If you were here with me, I'd be the happiest man in the world,” Seokmin admits, and your heart stops.

“Aren't you happy living your dream?”

“It's not the same if you're not here watching.”

“But you did well today!”

“And I wanted to celebrate with you. But you weren't there.” While the celebration seemed nice on TV, he's telling you another story. “I didn't go out with them. I came straight here to the hotel. I was about to call you when I saw your name on the screen.”

Your legs shake lightly with excitement. All that sadness you felt taking over you dissipated with each of his words.

“I missed you. So I called.”

“I'm glad you did.”

Ending the conversation at this moment, switching the topic even, would be the wise decision. You didn't have a single drop of alcohol, but your mouth is unrestricted.

“I wish I was there with you for real. Not in your imagination.” You swallow hard, but it's not enough to stop your blabbering. “I don't like not being with you.”

After a pause, Seokmin finally speaks up again, "You could be.”

You chuckle in disbelief. “I can't go to a race.”

“I don't mean to a race. Or at least, not just one.” You're speechless, scavenging in your mind for any other thing he could be talking about. At the silence, Seokmin continues, “You could be with me.”

“What are you saying? Seokmin, please.”

“C'mon,” he spits out, as if it was obvious. “You know.”

“Know what? I was just saying-”

“You know how I feel about you.”

—

The bed dipped where your bodies were tangled together. It was too hot, your skin glistening with sweat, but neither of you cared.

His arms wrapped around your waist, flushing your back against his chest to keep you from escaping. You were too sleepy to even think of the possibility. His steady breath and the beating of his heart were more calming than anything.

Nothing seemed real. Your eyelids felt heavy after being up all night, and you were sure the sun would come up any minute. Time, unfortunately, still moved.

You were almost drifting to sleep when you heard his voice.

“This,” his words slurred, as if he was on the verge of falling asleep, too. “This meant something right?”

You didn't know if he was awake, if he wanted an answer. He surely felt your lungs suddenly not filling with air.

“Yes,” you replied. Only with the lights turned off and in the limbo between days you could admit something like that.

“I don't think I can ever go back.”

—

For the tenth time in the night, your heart stops. You're shivering, beginning to sweat from the overwhelming sensation. For how much time have you waited to hear him tell you this?

“You can't say that. Not right now.”

“When should I? There's no such thing as the right time. I feel it, right now. I l-”

“Don't. Please, Seokmin,” you choke out, trying and failing to stop the cascade threatening to fall from your face. “We can't.”

“Why?” Your eyes are still closed, imagining his reactions like you've memorized his face and his every expression. “Why can't we try? Don't you feel it too?”

“It's not that simple.”

“But it is! Why are you so against it?”

“Because I don't want us to change!” You yell into the air. To him. Pleading to the universe.

“It won't. I know it won't because it never has.” Seokmin's not calm either. You can tell there's something brewing behind his thought out words. “I’ve liked you all this time, all these years. Since I was nobody and you insisted on coming to watch me get my racing license. You were the only one there, you were always the only one supporting me at the beginning.”

“I didn't say anything then because I didn't feel worthy. I never thought you'd look at me the way I looked at you. And that night,” he continues. “I kissed you that night because I wanted to since forever. You were acting like everything was going to change drastically, but my feelings weren’t going to. And they're still the same. You finally looked at me when I was leaving and I thought it was my last chance. Then, you wanted to act like nothing happened, and I accepted. I went on with it, thinking that at least I was still in your life. But it's not enough. It's not enough anymore.”

“Seokmin, please.” Tears stream down your face, nothing working to stop them. “I'd just hold you back.”

“Why? Why? I want this! I'm asking you!”

"Because! You're moving forward, doing something with your life, getting to where you always wanted, and I'm stuck here, studying like I've done all my life, watching everything from the sidelines.” Hiccups force you to take a breath, no matter how hard it is. “I'm not worth it. You should be with someone with a future. With someone you can hug, and kiss, and actually be with.”

“I don't want anyone else. I want you,” he pleads quietly. You're breaking him, again. “I don't care about having to video-call to talk. I'd gladly do it with you.”

“It might seem like enough now, but you'll get tired. We'd start hating each other for being busy the only time one of us had time.”

“You're always so pessimistic. We can make it work! We've been doing it for years now!”

“But it’s different. I-I don't think I could handle it.”

“Tell me. Tell me you don't want to be with me.” He asserts. Done. Tired. “But I can't go back to how it was. It'd hurt too much.”

Everything stops as his words settle in. You don't have any more teats to spill. The thing you feared became real. Your relationship isn't enough, he wants something you can't give him.

You clear your throat, “I'm sorry.”

You've said those words too many times to each other. But this time it's not to take what you did back. You know you're breaking his heart, but there's nothing else you can do.

“It's done then.”

You hope he doesn't hear you getting choked up. It's not fair to him when it's your fault.

“Goodbye,” It's a whisper of your name, but it hurts like a gunshot.

You start living zoned out. Seconds blend into hours and hours blend into days, seamless. Your body works on autopilot, repeating the same cycle day after day: go to classes, eat, sleep, repeat.

The past weeks were just a test, nothing compared to the real thing. Living a life knowing you will never have Seokmin by your side again.

Roughly two weeks have passed since the cursed phone call that changed it all. Two weeks since you had to admit the worst part of your insecure brain to him. Two weeks since you broke his heart. But you push through it, even if it seems like days will never have bright colors again.

From time to time, you check your phone in hope to find something, and disappointment is always the result. You've exchanged texts with Seungkwan, disclosing the least amount of detail possible to his gossiping self, but even if you want to believe things will get better, it never feels normal. He'll always be in Seokmin's team. Even him talking to you feels like treason.

Is there a world where this wasn't the end result? Maybe if you weren't a coward.

Stepping slowly on the grey cement, you get out of the library and see your bus speed away from your stop. Another small consequence of your actions. You've given up on anything working your way by now.

You wait for the next one with a blank mind. Standing at the bus stop, staring at your feet, you try to think of something that aren't Seokmin's last words to you, ever.

It's done then. They sounded so harsh at that moment, but the more you think about it, the more you realize how badly you hurt him. It was for the best, you think. It has to be. You're saving both of you from a worst heartbreak. If you let yourself fall more deeply, it'd hurt more. You can't handle that.

The Sunday sun makes your skin prickly with sweat. You didn't put in sunscreen before deciding to kill time in the library doing God knows what. A day full of regrets, it seems.

When you finally sit on the bus, some time later, you don't fight the urge to check on the latest sports related news. You aren’t in each other’s lives anymore, but that doesn’t mean you won’t check on his career. You’ll never stop supporting him.

Your Seokmin related news have been scarce since that call. Of course, you chose one of the few race free weekends to end your friendship. You knew how he spent his free weeks, but you didn’t hear anything about him either. You didn’t ask.

This week’s race was one Seokmin had been expecting since the first moment he got the news that he’ll be racing. The São Paulo Grand Prix was specifically hard for him. Not only is the weather in the region unpredictable, it’s also not located on flat ground, which means it follows the ups and down of hills, and it’s a counterclockwise circuit, which has different repercussions on the driver’s body.

You may not have hourly updates of his life anymore, but you’ve built an entire encyclopedia of Seokminisms. With the anxiety that comes with having to follow his team’s past success on the circuit, combined with the special training to get the body ready for the race, Seokmin probably hasn’t left the gym in days.

The race started while you were waiting on the sidewalk. Seokmin started at P10 and quickly gains a few spots as the laps progress, positioning P7 by the time you reach your home.

But, with all the sad groveling you’ve been doing, you haven’t checked São Paulo’s estimated climate for the weekend. You realize your mistake the second the sun stops illuminating your screen, replaced by a gray, worrying layer of clouds covering the sky. The narrators all comment on the weather change and the start of the rainfall, expected in the region at this time of the year.

Racing under the rain is normal, every driver has done it countless times. It's the decreasing ability to see past one meter ahead that worries you.

Your remote is in your hand the moment you sit on your couch, without even taking your outside clothes off. Your eyes glue to the screen. Seeing the amount of laps decrease without any incidents lets you breathe, but the anxiousness never leaves.

Seokmin manages to block drivers from passing him, and not even his rushed pit stop prevents him from staying within the scoring positions, but when he celebrates through the radio, you can almost hear the toll the circuit is taking on him. Racing counterclockwise pushes the driver's neck to the right, straining the body uncomfortably.

The storm worsens each minute that passes, and you wonder why they haven't stopped the race yet. With 5 laps left to finish, maybe there's hope it can be done. For a second, you think that too.

Seokmin overtakes another driver during the ‘S’ turn, officially positioning P5. Having just 4 laps left, it's basically his final position.

But the rain doesn't relent. If the hope was that the storm ended as a mere drizzle, everyone was wrong. The circuit and paddock were nearly invisible, cast aside by the blurring rain.

It happens before you even register what’s barely visible behind the rain.

Tyres squeak against the pavement, harsh and loud. No one knows what happened. The sports narrators describe the accident you can’t see, wondering which driver almost managed to finish the race.

The broken car’s color is barely recognizable. You listen attentively to each driver that stops racing, name after name hoping to hear Seokmin saying he’s at the pit stop.

“The back right tyre’s done for,” his voice gets picked up by the radio with a chuckle, followed by a choir of questions from his team.

You exhale for the first time in minutes. If he’s talking he must be okay. But you don't get to relax. No one knows what happened, or how badly the car or Seokmin were hurt.

The storm calms down just barely, but enough to see both the medical car and the safety car doing their respective jobs.

Seokmin is extracted from the car and instantly laid down on a gurney. The narrators explain the way his degraded tyres slipped on the wet asphalt and caused the car to run into the wall.

You analyze the repetition, now clearer thanks to the many angles the races are filmed in. Somehow, as the experts are explaining, Seokmin managed to turn the car in a way it wouldn't badly hurt him before it crashed. It could’ve been much worse.

But, even with every maneuver in the world, he still got carried to the hospital, and you have no way of knowing how he was. You couldn't ask him. You couldn't ask anyone.

Your TV is off the second the narrators change topics and the race resumes to the last laps. As the afternoon goes on after the race finishes without him, you stop caring about everything else. Anything that isn't news about Seokmin goes in through one ear and out the other.

Hours and hours pass with you debilitating your sense of sight by looking at your phone, searching news articles and social media for any kind of information. You get nothing, only people discussing the ending positions. How can no one worry about a driver getting injured?

You're about to give up when your ringtone catches your attention. You pick up instantly. “How is he?”

“He's at the hospital,” Seungkwan sighs. “They're just now allowing visitors.”

Okay. If they’re allowing people to see him, it probably means he’s not in need of intensive therapy. He’s okay.

You might be more relaxed, but there are still tons of questions to ask. “Are they making him stay the night? Is he hurt?”

“I don't know the extent of his injuries yet, I'm sorry.” Seungkwan sounds out of breath, like he’s pacing back and forth in the hallway.

“What happened?” You insist. “I couldn't see anything with the rain.”

“The team didn't manage the pit stops correctly and the car slipped with the wet floor.”

“So, his team and whoever decided that the race could continue with the storm are idiots.”

“Hey! I told them it wasn't safe?”

After watching so many races over the years, it became clear that when anything that could endanger the drivers came into play, the race would stop until it was safe. The weather in that region of Brazil might be unpredictable, but a storm is still a storm, and just thinking about Seokmin being as blind to the circuit as you were from the cameras puts a lump in your throat.

“I don’t understand how they allowed that.”

“Me neither, I swear.” Seungkwan sounds defeated.

Deep down you know he was probably fighting everyone on the paddock before the accident happened. He isn’t making jokes and teasing you like he usually would. You don’t want to fight.

“Can you just—let me know if he's okay?” You whisper, fearing that saying it out loud would trigger some response from the universe.

“Why don't you ask him yourself?”

“You know I can't do that,” you protest. “He hates me.”

He sighs and continues with a babying voice, “He doesn't hate you.”

“He does. Don't lie to me.”

Seungkwan is aware that you and Seokmin talked and essentially ended your friendship, but he doesn’t have a clue what you said to him, the way he pleaded for you to listen and how you refused. It hasn’t been long enough for him to even consider beginning to forgive you. And it’s okay. You did it knowing the consequences.

“You're so fucking stubborn,” Seungkwan mutters. “I can't believe I have to do something for you two to grow some balls.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?” You must look crazy, pacing around your apartment screaming at the phone.

“You're coming here.”

“Here? To fucking Brazil?” He just hums as a reply. “Yeah, right.”

“You are. I'm booking you a plane ticket right now.”

He must be joking. “You're not.”

“Hell yeah I am! And I'm using his card, too.”

“That's called stealing. You know that, right.”

“Not if it's what Seokminnie really wants.”

His nickname being uttered pinches your heart. You want nothing more than to see him, to hug him and breathe him in. If these past two hours proved anything, it’s that being away from him and left out of what happens to him is hell on earth.

“I can't go there,” you repeat quietly. “He won't want to see me.”

“He will.” You sigh with hesitation, but Seungkwan interrupts you before you can object. “I won't tell you how he is if you don't come. And I'll pay the guys to not talk to you, too. Simple as that.”

“You can't be serious.”

The free trip offer starts sounding not too bad. You fear if he pushes you a bit further, you’ll accept. You’re weak when it comes to Seokmin and he knows that.

“I have never been more serious about something in my life.”

You sigh again, knowing you’re going to accept. It’s as simple as that, and you hate yourself for it. How are you going to get ready for the inevitable heartbreak that’ll come with seeing Seokmin face to face again?

“I'm going to punch you in the face when I see you.”

“And I'll gladly take it. After you talk to him.”

The doorknob is within reach from your hand, cold, taunting, and the thing that separates you from the one person you want to see the most.

For once, you forgot about your other responsibilities. You threw everything away and jumped on a plane on a Sunday afternoon to travel to the other side of the world. Currently, Seokmin's well-being is your top concern, above going to beginner college classes.

On the plane you could only think of that to say to him. Seeing him again was such a wild and foreign idea that, even standing with only a wall between him and you, it still doesn't seem real.

Hours in the sky didn't prepare you for shit, and the emptiness of the hallway gives you chills.

Your heart's pounding like you're being chased, with your hands sweaty and brain reeling. You're in no state to face the most important person in your life. You need to get it together.

Trying to accustom your brain to the high possibility of receiving a string of curses and screams, to be asked to get out and never return, is not hard. Hearing his voice will be enough. Knowing he's okay, at least physically.

After taking a deep breath, but not yet revealing yourself, you knock on the door as you open it slightly.

You hear Seokmin sigh before he says, “Soonyoung, I already told you I don't want—”

Whatever he was about to say gets cut off when you peek your head through the opening.

Seokmin's sitting with his back against the lifted bed, already dressed in his clothes and with no visible bruises or stitches. He's as shocked as you that you're entering his room, blinking rapidly trying to check if he's seeing correctly.

“Can I come in?” You ask, knowing there's a high possibility of being denied.

There's a beat of silence before he asks, “Why are you here?”

You take a step into the room, and when he doesn't tell you to get lost, you take it as a yes.

“I saw what happened.” You stand awkwardly away from his bed, searching for injuries on him and feeling his eyes going over you. “I was worried.”

“So you flew all the way here?” Of course, he's not convinced, especially after your last conversation.

“I wanted to see if you were okay,” you reply, but it's not the whole truth. “I wanted to see you.”

“There was no need for you to—”

“Well, I came.”

You stare at each other, trying to figure out what's going through the other's mind.

Now that he's in front of you, waiting for you to say something, words don’t want to form sentences in your mind. Whatever you planned to say disappeared the second his eyes laid on yours.

His silence is unnerving. Maybe you made a mistake. You'd rather him scream and tell you how much he hates you than being subjected to the icy quiet for any longer. What else were you expecting?

“I'm sorry—maybe I shouldn't have. I'll leave.”

You motion to turn around and leave. Seungkwan got you a back ticket for the next day. You can wait at a hotel until then.

Tears pool on your eyes as you begin to face the door. Everything moves at a slow pace. You saw him after months being away, and you're ending it once again.

“Wait! Wait a minute.” His voice freezes you in place. “Don't leave.”

“I should let you rest.” You turn halfway, still not facing him again. “You probably don't want to see me.”

“I'm glad you're here.”

For the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe. As you dare to look his way again, your lungs fill with air and a weight lifts off your shoulders.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you chuckle to hide your nervousness. “Are you hurt?”

“No, no. Just a few bruises on my left side. The circuit had nothing on me.”

You laugh with him, unsure of what's appropriate to say. Yes, he's an amazing driver, but you were still worried, and now you know he's okay. There isn't really anything else to do.

“It's okay if you hate me,” you blurt out.

Because it is. You can't expect him to be forgiving just ‘cause you showed up at the hospital. It's not fair to him.

“You don't get it,” he sighs and pushes himself up the bed. “I don't.” 

“I was awful to you and now I have the nerve to show up! I wouldn't hold it against you if you did.”

Seokmin walks towards you, casting his shadow on the white cemented floor. You can't look down for long, because his form blocks any other view and his scent and warmth touches your skin, erupting goosebumps all across your body.

Your throat threatens to close. It's hard to swallow with the rush of emotions taking over you.

Before he can speak, the door behind you opens and reveals one of the nurses. For a second, you forgot you were in a public place in another country.

“You're officially discharged, Mr. Lee. Is this who'll be taking you home?” She points at you.

You look at him, perplexed. He doesn't even have to stay the night. Seungkwan played you. He made you worried sick, he flew you here in a rush, for the whole thing to be over after a few hours. He'll pay for this.

The nurse taps her foot against the floor, waiting for an answer. “I am. Yes.”

It's a quiet taxi ride to the hotel Seokmin's staying in. The unsaid words between you are for no one else to hear. Not the driver, not the hotel staff, not even the hot air engulfing the hallway.

When the door clicks closed behind you, you rush to place all his things on the couch –because of course he booked a room with a full living room.

“I could've got my stuff, you know. I didn't break both arms.”

“You should rest for a few days.”

Seokmin stands behind you, waiting for you to quit stalling and face him again. His presence is all too ominous, drawing heat up your body.

But you can't deal with the pressure. “I'll leave you to it.”

He grabs your hand, keeping you from running away. “Why did you come?” He asks, voice too close to you.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” you whisper back, turning around slowly.

“And hopping on a plane and coming to São Paulo was your first choice? You could've texted me.”

His eyes bore holes on the top of your head as you avoid his stare. Analyzing the room is much more important than catching his eyes and melting right into his hold.

“I wasn't sure if you'll reply.”

“Then, you could've texted anyone else.”

“It's not the same.”

Seokmin's hands creep up your arms, boiling your blood everywhere he touches. When he reaches your neck, his fingers tilt your jaw up to finally meet your eyes.

Everything you expected to see in his eyes, from disappointment to dislike, or even repulsion, it's not there. His expression is as soft as ever, except for the faintest smirk forming in one corner of his mouth. Not that you're looking.

“Why did you come?”

“You know why.”

Words were never your strong suit, especially not when the man you love is staring down at you like you hold the secrets of the universe. After all this time, how can he not know?

“I don't. That's why I'm asking.”

You roll your eyes playfully, falling into his trap too easily.

“I missed you. Is that what you want to hear?” He's smug as he nods and urges you to keep going. “I hate being away from you. Because, I am my own person, but I don’t know how to live if it's not with you and your stupid smile by my side.”

“I have a stupid smile?”

“Very stupid.”

You chuckle together, chests almost colliding from the closeness. He isn't stepping away. You don't want to either.

“I'm sorry—for the other day.” You see his expression fall into seriousness.

“You don't have to apologize.”

“No. I do.” Your hand in his chest stops him from contradicting you. “I shouldn’t have acted out like that. Not after we slept together, and especially not during that call. I got scared and I was selfish to think that it was the only way I could save myself from being hurt. And I know I keep fucking everything up, hurting you and then apologizing. I don't know how you have it in you to keep wanting to see me even when you hate me, but I'm also selfishly happy that you do.”

“That's where you keep getting it wrong.”

Standing in the middle of the empty room, you're trapped between his hands and the weight of his following words.

“You didn't let me finish what I wanted to say that day,” he continues. “I don't know why you're scared to hear me say it, but now that you're here, I think it's because you're ready to.”

Seokmin breathes in and out, giving you time to reject him. You want nothing more than to hear those few words.

“I love you. I've loved you for years and I have never stopped. I don't think I'm capable of feeling any other way about you.”

The four walls surrounding the both of you suffocate you. Breathing takes double the effort after hearing the words you've been chasing for years.

When his thumb caresses your cheek, you realize he's wiping off the tears running down your face.

“Don't leave. Stay with me tonight.”

Not trusting your ability to speak at the moment, you only nod and let him lead you to the bedroom, after ensuring you're leaving your bag with his stuff.

Getting into bed with him feels just as natural as it feels like the most anxiety inducing thing you did ever in life. While your pajamas consist of old stretched clothes that don't fit anymore, his is only a pair of shorts. Nothing else.

Inside the covers, your bodies are drawn together like magnets, and your head's suddenly laying on his bare chest. His steady breathing could soothe any worry. You'd drift to sleep if it wasn't for the little time you have together.

His hand searches for yours and interlocks your fingers right above his stomach. All so intimate, but for once, you don't want to run away.

“Are you missing class tomorrow?” He asks, breaking the comfortable silence of the night.

“Hmm, yeah, my flight back leaves at night.”

With your eyes closed, you feel his light chuckle against your cheek.

“Miss goody two shoes skipping an entire day of class? For me?”

“Oh, shut up!”

You aim to hide your face behind your hands, but he grabs your wrist before you even get the chance to. With his other hand, he lifts your chin up, once again connecting your eyes.

The yellowy lamp on the nightstand highlights the feature on his face. His high cheekbones take the cake, pinkish red due to the warm temperatures. You see his eyes going over your face too.

Your shy smile dies below his stare. A thousand thoughts run inside his mind, unsure of everything.

“Have I told you how happy I am that you're here?”

His voice, so soft and honest, melts you in place. You feel giddy all around, being with him so comfortably. Weeks ago you might’ve been panicking in the same scenario, but every minute it passes, your decision becomes clearer and clearer.

“Happy enough that you won't mind that Seungkwan used your card to pay for my plane tickets?”

“I knew I shouldn’t have given it to him for those discounts he wanted.”

You chuckle. “You're a good friend. To everyone and to me.”

“A good friend, huh?” Seokmin's hands drift down to your hips and lift you until you're on top of him. “I don't think you'd allow any friend to touch you like this.”

He traces your back, feeling your hot skin as his hands drift inside your t-shirt. Your eyes almost close with a sigh, but the sight of him under you is one you don't want to miss a second of.

His bare chest under your touch rises and falls as he thinks of a witty answer. Your fingers go over his skin, finding every mole on his torso and wishing you were the only to have seen them.

“What do you want to be, then? The ‘best friend’ title is already yours.”

“The one that starts with ‘boy’.”

“Boy best friend?”

It's fun to tease him, more so when you seem to be in charge of the situation. But, without changing his position or his tone of voice, he manages to flip that around.

With all this time away, you forgot Seokmin is not who he always seems. He's kind and infectiously happy, but he's also a man that frequents the gym and knows his effect on you.

When he pushes your hips down on his groin, your little shorts and his paper-thin sleeping shorts let you feel just how much he wants you.

“Fuck,” you mumble, and it's clear he got what he wanted.

One hand caresses the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before he says.

“You're really pretty.”

If he can't see the wave of warmness across your face, you're sure he can feel it.

“I didn't even put make-up on before coming ‘cause I was in such a rush.”

“You sooo care about me.”

Your jaw and your neck and your nape, all fall into the trap of his touch. His magnetism almost controls you, lowering your face slowly, entranced by the way his lips move.

You kiss the corner of his mouth. Then, you kiss up his jaw and both his cheeks. He chases your lips but you manage to avoid him, save for the faintest graze when you speak.

“And you sooo love me.”

Seokmin hums in response, letting you have your teasing moment back. He doesn't know that you're trembling inside, feeling his length twitching under you with just a few kisses.

“Are you going to let me kiss you or should I beg?” The breathless question almost leaves you speechless.

“Only if you promise to never stop.”

“You're gonna have to restrain me, then.”

“I bet you'd like that.” 

Seokmin breaks the tension, pushing your neck down and finally connecting your lips after so long.

Neither of you waste time, delving into the kiss like starved people. You don't know how you lived this long away from him after learning how he tasted.

Teeth clash as your limbs tangle together trying to feel every bit of skin you can. You grind against his bulge shamelessly, earning groan after groan into your mouth. He doesn't stop you.

The few layers between your cores allow you to feel everything. Your already damp panties stick to your folds with his shape dragging along.

You moan in each other’s mouths, desperately seeking to satisfy the fire growing inside you. His arms hold you impossibly closer, keeping you in place as his tip presses against your clit over the clothes.

“Seok—what the fuck.” You're breathless, with your body flushed with embarrassment at how quickly he's able to get you to the edge without even touching you properly.

You hide your face on the side of his neck as he keeps going. You let him get off against you, feeling his cock grow with every day of his hips and every moan you don't contain.

“Can you come like this?” The broken words struggle to leave him between the light grunts he lets out.

“I don't want—” His hand going under your shorts cut your words off.

In between your sweaty bodies, Seokmin found a way past your inner thighs and now plays with his fingers against your drenched panties. He sneaks past the last bit of fabric and coats his digits with your arousal.

“Fuck, baby, already?”

You can't find it in you to be embarrassed anymore. Not when you feel the rapid beating of Seokmin’s heart as he feels just how much you crave for his touch.

Your nails claw on his shoulders as he prods two digits on your entrance, warm and ready for him since that first time not long ago.

“I've thought about this every day for months,” he admits as your walls clamp around his fingers. “Having you like this.”

“Really?”

If he responds, it sounds like mumbling nonsense to you. You're barely registering his words, concentrating on his long fingers reaching places not even you could.

Your body doesn't give any of you a warning before you start trembling on top of Seokmin. He curls his digits to take you further into the moment and doesn't stop until you're coating his entire hand.

You ride the orgasm down as he kisses your shoulder, so sweetly one wouldn't think he still has two digits buried inside you, taunting your sensitive walls.

With all the strength you can gather, you get up from the bed, feeling empty at the loss of him. You take off your t-shirt and shorts in one go, leaving only the ruined panties on.

“Don't just stare at me,” you say with your most playful tone you can manage. “Get a condom or this isn't happening.”

Your voice draws him out of the trance he was in, looking at you.

“Right, yeah, right.” He scrambles to get up and find his discarded pants. “I think I had one here.”

Now back on the bed, you take his place as he breaks open the plastic packet he found in one of his pockets. You watch him pull his shorts down and puts the condom on like eye candy as your body prepares for him.

Seokmin crawls on the bed, kissing up your thigh and stomach until you're face to face.

“The doctor said you should rest,” you giggle as he pecks your lips and wraps your legs around his hips.

You clamp against nothing as Seokmin kisses you deeply once more. His hard glides along your sensitive core, but you want more.

“The doctor didn't know I'd have a pretty girl in my arms.”

He kisses down your neck as his protected length coats with your arousal, pressing your wet folds and swollen clit and making you moan into the air.

“Stop playing with me.”

Seokmin chuckles against your chest at your plea, his breath fanning over the damp spots he's leaving on your skin. Every fire he ignites sends waves of heat through your body down to where your cores meet.

“Look who's begging now.”

“I don't beg. I demand.”

You feel his tip just barely poking at your entrance, so close yet so far from what you need. He pins you down with his whole body, rendering you incapable of doing anything else than taking his teasing.

“Hmm,” he hums against your throat, liking up your jaw until his lips press against your earlobe.

Your warmness welcomes him as he stretches you open slowly. Seokmin's long fingers weren't enough to prepare you to be filled by his hardness again.

Every time your mind wandered to that first night, worried but needy at the same time, you spent longing to feel him against you. But you weren't ready for his cock to carve space for his shape to fit in.

“Shit,” he half moans in your ear.

But his noises just turn you on more. Your insides hug him tight in place, and you can feel his dick twitch every time he tries to move.

He snaps his hips back until he's almost all the way out of you. “Min–”

“I'm giving you what you wanted, baby.”

His hips pound against yours, hard, filling you up to the hilt again. The bed squeaks below you as he starts thrusting mercilessly.

A choir of grunts and moans echo around the walls, over and over as Seokmin reaches every spot to make you scream. and scream you do.

You scream his name like a mantra, no longer afraid of the meaning of what you're doing. You allow yourself to feel everything he gives you. Every thrust, every moan, every sweet word in your ear. You're ready for him. All of him and what it entails.

When you rake your nails down his back, he loses control of his thrusts. Your touch sends him to another plane, where he can't control the way he moves or thinks. “Oh my God!” You roll your eyes back at the new added pleasure.

Seokmin's thumb circles your clit slowly, contradicting the menacing pace of his hips. He pushes every button to make you squirm, to squeeze around him harder and harder until he has to push your walls open. It's too much. It's everywhere and nowhere. Your mind and body are focused on reaching the fireworks that Seokmin strokes and strokes to explode.

Everything combines in one deliberate stroke that has you seeing stars, trembling under Seokmin's body uncontrollably.

He whispers praise in your ear as he keeps thrusting in his search for his orgasm. Your gummy walls, sensitive and still wanting, quiver around him, making it hard for him to continue his pace. But it's not hard for him to cum into the condom after you egg him on.

This time, when he gets up to clean the both of you, there isn't a single drop of panic creeping up on you. And if there were, you wouldn't let it.

“I hope you're not getting any ideas,” Seokmin chuckles as he gets back under the covers with you. “I have one idea. But you're gonna like this one. I promise.”

He stretches his arm for you to lay your head on and you happily comply. You accept his every act of affection, his soft caresses on your sides, his kisses on the top of your head. You even proudly wear the big shirt he gave you.

“What's on your mind?” He asks, a bit scared. “There’s something I haven't told you.”

The truth at the tip of your tongue draws heat up your body. He just saw you naked and kissed every inch of your body, but this is another kind of bare.

He waits for you to continue, and you hide your face from his too kind eyes.

“As you know, I've been letting all the scary thoughts I had dictate my life decisions.” He hums, and you go on. “But, I've been so scared of losing you, that I thought I'd be easier if it was my fault. I couldn't stand the thought of drifting apart without reason, so I made one up.”

“We were never going to-”

“Shut up.” You shut his mouth with your hand. “I know that now. I'm getting there!”

“Anyway, you showed me that I had nothing to be afraid of. You kept giving me opportunities even when I didn't deserve them and I realized that my paranoia warped my image of you to someone you really weren't. And I can't believe that I believed that for so long.”

You chuckle with nervousness and finally look him in the eyes.

“I love you, too.” A tear runs down your cheek. Seokmin caresses the side of your face but doesn't interrupt you. “I don't know when it started, because it's so natural to me that I feel like I've always loved you. The truth is, I can't see myself with anyone else. It's always been you.”

There it is. You poured your whole heart out and the world as you know it it's still the same.

Seokmin closes the small distance between you, kissing your tears away. He wasn't spooked, he didn't run like you always imagined.

“I really needed to get that out before I fell asleep,” you find it in you to chuckle.

His two hands hold your face. You look straight at him, the first time you can't decipher what he's thinking. The wrinkles by his eyes make an appearance before he cracks into a smile. Your favorite smile of his.

“I'll tell you that I love you everyday if that's what you need. Every hour. Every minute, even.” He tucks your hair behind your ears, so there's nothing in the way between your eyes and his.

“I'd like that very much.”

A shower of pecks comes your way. “I love you.” One on your lips.  “I love you.” One on both your cheeks. “I love you.” And one on your nose. Just everywhere. You giggle and fight for a way away from his trap, but he's decided.

“Will you be my long term, long distance, low commitment, casual girlfriend?”

You were about to cry your eyes out again,  but instead you frown in confusion. “What the hell is that?”

“You don't know that line? It's from the Barbie movie!”

“When did you watch the Barbie movie?”

“My teammate’s daughter forced me once.” He joins you as you laugh hysterically. “But seriously, will you be my girlfriend?”

You think about it. For real this time. With no self-sabotage and the real Seokmin sitting in front of you.

You nod eagerly and kiss him again, knowing it's the first kiss of millions you'll share with him forever.

“I can't believe I'm officially a WAG!”

“Okay, now where did you learn that term?”

note: thank you so much for reading! this last scene wasn't proof read, so, i'm really sorry if it has any mistakes :(

i hope you enjoyed! please tell me your thoughts and don't forhet to check out the other fics in the collab!

[aeristudios]

Through The Haze: I

𓆩♡𓆪 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're the star of Neo City Nights, the hottest nightclub in the city. Your voice brings in people from all over, including the handsome stranger Seokmin who you can't stay away from. Too bad you don't remember him from your past life, before the accident that changed your life forever. 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: estranged boyfriend!seokmin x f.reader 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, fluff, thriller, cyberpunk au, lovers to exes au, 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS! smoking, drinking, violence (fights, shootings, murder, blood, weapons, manhandling, injuries), memory loss, mention of drugs, corruption, criminal activity, sexual explicit content including: kissing, fingering, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving) 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 9.7K 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐀𝐍: This is apart of the Cyberpunk: Reload collab hosted by @studiosvt! This is part 1 of 3 (the parts posting is TBD). Thank you to @hannieoftheyear and @yoongihan for looking at this for me! The lyrics mentioned are for the songs "I Feel Love" by Donna Summer and "Future Lovers" by Madonna.

𓆩♡𓆪 playlist 𓆩♡𓆪

Ooh, it's so good, it's so good, It's so good, it's so good It's so good

Your voice has everyone in a trance, their eyes fixed on you through the purple haze of smoke and flickering lights. The bass vibrates your bones as the music flows through you as if it were made for you, your dress accentuating your hips as you dance with a subtle seductiveness that keeps everyone coming back. Your hair flows effortlessly, catching the glow of neon, and your makeup is flawless, commanding attention.

Ooh, I feel love, I feel love I feel love, I feel love I feel love

You lick your lips, a smirk on your face as your confidence grows.

I feel love I feel love I feel love

You know you are killing it, stepping off the stage and sitting in a patron’s lap as your soulful, rich voice seduces her further. You see it in her eyes, a hidden, curious flame you might be interested in unlocking at the end of the night.

Ooh, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love I'm in love

Her eyes watch you intently as your finger brushes her chin, trailing flirtatiously to her lips painted a shade of plum. With a wink, you rise from her lap, sashaying across the floor as you sing your heart out. The drink you had before you stepped on stage is slowly kicking in, easing the nerves you felt earlier. You feel a strange pull, magnetic and charismatic, as the crowd's energy bends around you. The main attraction at Neo City Night Club has never looked better, and you love every bit of it.

Not too bad for a woman who doesn’t remember two years of her life.

Ooh, fall and free, fall and free Fall and free, fall and free Fall and free

Your accident made news all over the city, the scandal of a promising club singer robbed of her memories overshadowing the ongoing murders haunting the darkest corners. As far as you know, you slipped and fell during a robbery gone wrong, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. You woke up at Neo City Memorial Hospital with your head wrapped in bandages and swollen, black eyes. Your mother prayed in front of a holographic Bible, clutching her Rosary tightly, while your father stared blankly out the window, lost in thought. It was the worst day of your life that you can remember, and it lingers in your mind.

So it’s no surprise that people from all over would come to see this mysterious person with a great voice and missing patches of her life put on a performance, because that’s what this city lives and breathes on. Scandals, violence, and sex mixed in between. You’ve figured out your role, and you play it well—it’s the only way you can survive.

I feel love I feel love I feel love

The beat fades out as you’re back on stage, the purple lights shifting slightly and shining on you, the enigma. Claps and cheers erupt in the club, and you let yourself bask in it all as the velvet curtains close. Buzzing from the energy of the crowd, you stand there rooted in place, your eyes closed as you hear them chant ENCORE! ENCORE! ENCORE! The buzz you get from this can never be replicated, no matter how much kosmi dust you snort. 

“Well done, gorgeous.”

Turning around, you face your boss, Cado, who walks towards you, clapping his hands. Your buzz drops like a free fall.

“Just doing my job, boss,” you sarcastically salute, the energy in the room shifting to something colder. It’s no surprise your boss is attracted to you, and you don’t miss the way he gazes over your body as something to possess rather than something to behold. He’s offered many times to get you to do “work” on the side for him, but you never budged. Maybe it’s worked on others, but not you. You don’t shit where you eat.

He’s unfortunately a conventionally attractive man, with a jawline sculpted by a god and dark, seductive brown eyes you can get trapped in. Cado takes good care of his body, bragging about how much he works out and sometimes flexing his arms or flashing his abs. All he talks about is himself and his money; it doesn’t impress you.

“You know my offer still stands, if you are looking for extra work,” Cado offers, a glint of mischievousness in his eyes.

Giving him a slow once-over, you snort. “I don’t need the extra money. You know that,” you scoff. “I’m sure one of the waitresses might.”

You walk away before he can say another word, exiting the side stage and heading to the bar. The need for a stiff drink is strong as ever, craving a shot of Sunshine Mist that’ll burn your throat and numb you in the best way. You only put up with Cado’s advances because this club feels familiar to you, even though you don't remember working here before. The nice guy facade he tried to put on at first, you saw through that early on. You see him for who he is, and you’ve made it clear every chance you get.

Holding your fingers up towards the bartender, Chan, you take a seat on the stool as the lively chatter and studio music fade into the background. Your head bobs lightly, your fingers drumming on the counter as you wait for your drink.

“Rough night?” Chan asks, twirling the cocktail shaker.

“Eh, just Cado being Cado,” you quip.

“My condolences,” he chuckles, sliding the shot towards you.

You snort, grabbing the glass and throwing it back. It gives you an almost therapeutic burn, instantly putting you at ease. Sunshine Mist is one of the strongest drinks concocted, and while not everyone can stand its aftereffects, it’s your preferred drink here, especially when dealing with the likes of Cado. For a moment, everything softens, and your buzz has returned, leaving your skin tingling all over.

“Mind if I join you?”

You turn towards an unfairly attractive stranger standing beside you, staring at him blankly before realizing you were. His dark hair falls across his forehead, his smile bright enough to rival the neon lights flooding the club. He definitely doesn’t fit this crowd, and you don’t recall ever seeing him, but you are not a stranger to unusual occurrences.

You gesture towards the stool next to you, and he follows your lead, scooting his seat closer to you.

Chan gives him a measured look. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll have the same thing she’s having,” the stranger responds, tapping his watch and revealing a digicard. “And put hers on my tab.”

“Thank you,” you say, the curves of your mouth twitching.

“You’re welcome, gorgeous.”

Your eyebrows lift, followed by a silvery laugh. Studying him more carefully, you can’t help but notice the shape of his eyes, the curve of his smile, the timbre of his voice. A flutter of butterflies invades your stomach; you shake your head as the heat creeps up your neck.

“So, what’s the catch?”

It’s his turn to lift his brow. “Catch?”

Sitting up straighter, you throw him a look. “You bought me a drink, which is greatly appreciated, but I have the feeling that you didn’t come over here to take a shot with me.”

You can’t help but notice the way his eyes twinkle when he laughs. “Okay, you caught me,” he says, raising his hands. “I just wanted to tell you I liked your performance.”

You stare at him blankly, and then you laugh. “That’s it?” You flash him a smile. “I’m almost disappointed.”

“Give me time.”

Chan slides the drink over to the stranger, who catches the rim with the tips of his fingers. The veins on his hands pop suddenly, and you shake away the thoughts that are creeping into your head. He thanks Chan as he takes his shot, shooting it back in the same manner you did. The burning liquor doesn't faze him at all, and you sit there impressed.

“Seokmin.”

Your brows knit together. “Excuse me?”

He pulls out his hand to shake. “My name is Seokmin.”

You giggle, realizing he was introducing himself. “Nice to meet you,” you say, shaking his hand in return. “My name is—”

“I know who you are,” he says smoothly. His hand is warm and soft, and you can’t shake this sensation in your chest. You gaze at each other, your body feeling drawn to him, as if magnetism is pushing you together. Your hand is still in his, and you are in no hurry to let it go.

“I’m sorry, I have to ask,” you say suddenly. “But have we met before?”

Seokmin falters slightly before regaining his composure, slowly taking his hand from yours. “I—”

“Hey, boss wants us to go over the set list for tomorrow night.”

Your manager, nicknamed Snake-Eyes, appears from behind, holding a holographic tablet with a floating stylus. Looking past your manager, you eye Cado towards the back, watching you intently with a cigarette in his mouth. Of course, he wants to talk about it now, of all the times.

Glancing back at Seokmin, you let out a small sigh, your mood soured once again thanks to your boss. “I’m sorry we have to cut this short,” you say. “Maybe I’ll see you again?”

“Maybe,” Seokmin smiles softly, sending more butterflies to your stomach.

He gives you a hand to slide off the stool, his cologne appealing to your nose. It smells familiar, and you can’t pinpoint where it’s from. Maybe it’s something you came across in the years you can’t remember. Lucky you.

You start to walk away, but something tells you to turn around, and you find him still standing in place, watching you walk away. “Don’t be a stranger?”

He smiles. “Don’t worry, love. You’ll be seeing more of me.”

For some reason, those words resonate with you for the rest of the night.

Seokmin steps out into the wet night, lighting a cigarette from the corner of his mouth. The petrichor is fresh and calming as he deeply inhales, letting the enhanced tobacco burn his throat. It’s past two a.m., and the city is still alive, with no sign of slowing down. Neon lights and advertisements are shoved in his face at every corner, drug paraphernalia in the streets, and people coming from all directions looking for adventure. He remembers when he was that carefree and full of life, looking forward to the next day and many after. But so much has changed, and it feels like a distant memory, a whole lifetime ago.

Seokmin takes another puff as he watches on, lost in the thoughts that have been tormenting him for the past two years. He came to the club to find peace, to get answers to the darkness in his soul and the mystery that refuses to rest in his mind. Seokmin sought a reprieve that can only be cured by one, and when he watched you perform for the crowd, with the light shining on you like the star you are, it made him sadder. You don’t remember him, or your past life together, and every day it gets harder to bear. You are the light of his life, the one thing that has kept him alive, and he is determined to help you remember him, or at least, know the truth.

The authorities say it was an accident. Sure, like he will believe a fall like that will leave you on the brink of death with black eyes, broken ribs, and needing surgery. Seokmin has been a private investigator for many years and has seen a lot of shit, and the insult to his intelligence is laughable. He’s mentioned it to your parents, but they practically threatened to call the police if he came on their property again. The reaction didn’t surprise him much—your parents never thought he was good enough for you anyway.

They never told you about Seokmin and your life together. Your father is a very powerful man, and he had every trace of you and him wiped out of digital existence. It’s almost amusing the lengths he went through to erase Seokmin from your life. But what’s cruelly ironic is that he cannot take Seokmin’s memories away from him. It’s what helps Seokmin sleep at night.

There were many times he sat in the dark, in the apartment that you shared, and thought about barging into the hospital room or the club and telling you the full truth, hoping it would trigger something. But he can’t tell you anything he doesn’t know himself. How were you hurt? Who would do this to you? Why were you targeted? These are questions that have been wrestling in his mind with little to no answers, and forcing the truth on you wouldn’t serve you any better.

But being in your orbit again, hearing your voice and seeing the warmth in your eyes, renewed something in Seokmin’s spirit. He’s more determined than ever to uncover the truth and secure the justice you deserve. To bring you home.

God help anyone who tries to get in Seokmin’s way.

“Hi, baby.”

The voice is a low, honeyed murmur that makes you smile. A kiss is planted on your shoulder in a haze, and your body automatically eases. You reach back, blindly massaging the head of the hidden person as you watch the sun rise in an apartment. He feels familiar, as if you’ve known him for some time, even though you can't see his face.

“Have you been to sleep yet?”

You shake your head, a peaceful smile on your lips as sunlight rises over the horizon. It’s the first time you have seen the sun in days because of the rain, and you're too wired to sleep, thanks to the cup of coffee you had when you came home. “I just wanted to see this—the sun rise,” you explain. “There aren’t enough artificial sun rooms that can compare to the real thing.”

“Mmm,” he hums in agreement. “You are right about that, baby.”

He shifts, placing a lingering kiss beneath your earlobe. A moan escapes your lips as tingles spread throughout your body. His hands are warm, comforting as they grab your waist, pulling you closer to him. His cologne is pleasing, its scent unlike any of the synthetic materials made in factories throughout the city. It’s fresh and comforting, like vanilla, with a hint of aromatic spice. More kisses trail down your neck, his soft lips each imprinting electric and hard to ignore. Your nipples harden at his sensuality, your skin suddenly feeling hot and in need of more touch.

“I’m supposed to be watching the sunrise.” Your protest is weak with little effort. The hidden figure smirks against your skin, a low chuckle booming through his throat. “Not funny,” you sigh.

You turn to face him, kissing him with your eyes closed, allowing your body and mind to give yourself to him completely. His hands roam your body as if they know you, and your spirit isn’t disturbed—instead, your intuition tells you it’s okay, and he’s yours. Your shirt rises over your head, and you lean back into your pillows. Your blanket is caught in between your fingers, a tug of something metal caught in its snag. Raising your hand in the light reveals a ruby ring on a silver band, sitting perfectly on your ring finger.

“I fall in love with this ring every time I see it,” you sigh, the words flowing from your heart. “Good job, lover.”

You look up at him properly, trying to catch the shape of your stranger’s face. But it keeps slipping at the edges, the rays of light refusing to let you focus too hard. His presence, however, feels steady, familiar in a way your thoughts don’t know how to argue with.

“I missed you, you know,” he says, his hands cupping your face. He kisses you deeply, and you lose all feeling in your legs. “I could do this all day.”

You raise a brow, a smirk on your lips. “Technically, you can.”

“I could.” He lets out a silvery laugh. “But Seungcheol wouldn’t like that.”

You don’t know who he is, but somehow the name doesn’t seem foreign to you. Sitting up slightly, you cock your head to the side. “Well, tell Seungcheol you have plans and will be busy all day.”

“And what are those plans?” He asks, trailing his fingers along your shorts.

Despite his face being covered in a shroud of light, you know he’s staring at your body, ogling your breasts that were made just for him. Lifting slightly, you help yourself out of your shorts, revealing your bare center, and part your legs slightly, just for his view.

“Tell him you will be busy eating out your fiancé,” you half-joke, placing your foot on his shoulder.

He guffaws as he lays his head on your foot, massaging it. You don’t know why the words ‘fiancé’ came out of your mouth. You don’t even know who you are in bed with. It like deja vu, and you can’t explain it, but it feels right. This is where you are supposed to be.

“I don’t think I can tell him that, baby,” he breathes in between laughs. “I’ll think of something.”

His free hand spreads your legs apart further, dipping his fingers into your wet heat. You hiss at the contact, every nerve in your body on alert.

“You're soaked, baby,” he coos, his thumb rubbing against your clit. “Maybe I’ll tell Seungcheol there was a leak that needs fixing.”

You're buzzing, unfocused, enthralled with the pleasure he is giving you. “Mmhmm, sure.”

The stranger shuffles, spreading your legs wider as he lowers himself to your center. His tongue takes a long swipe without warning, leaving you clutching your sheets. He moans and grunts in your pussy, tasting and sucking you as you squirm in his hands, the haze you are in multiplying by the second. Lip smacking, slurping, and lewd moans fill the room, lifting you further on cloud nine.

“Fuck, I—” you sound pathetic, but the incessant need to cum in his mouth is greater. You try to pull yourself together, but the pleasure is too great, and you succumb to him completely. Tugging his hair, you ride the wave of his tongue, chasing your release until it washes over you suddenly, leaving you with a vision of white and shaky breath.

“I got you, baby,” he says smoothly. “Give me all of it.”

You let out a guttural moan that ripples through you, gushing in his mouth unabashedly. He doesn’t let up, licking you until there is nothing left, leaving a kiss on your pulsing clit that makes you shudder. You dissolve into the blanket, slowly coming down from your high. Lying there with half-sleepy eyes and a smile on your face, the sunlight shifting as it rises in the sky. You turn your head as your lover lifts his face, the sunlight no longer protecting him, revealing him at least.

“I love you.”

You jolt upright, your heart beating heavily, your vision blurry, beads of sweat forming on your forehead. He disappears, and you’re no longer in the dreamy haze of light; instead, the softness shifts cruelly into a large room of unnatural darkness. Your alarm clock is blaring on the walls, the constant chirping grating on your nerves.

“Maxima, I’m awake,” you croak to the virtual assistant.

It takes a moment for your vision to fully come back, replaying what just happened in your bed. You dismiss it as a dream, but it feels so real, like an unlocked memory calling to you. You glance down at your crotch, noticing the obvious wetness between your legs. Letting out a loud groan, you scoot to the edge of the bed, your head in your hands, trying to make sense of it all.

Seokmin.

He was the man of your dreams. You were in love, you were happy, and seemingly engaged. Your parents never mentioned you to him, and maybe it is all just a dream, but you still remember how your body reacted when you were near him, as if he were a familiar instead of a stranger. Or maybe it is all in your head—a fantasy constructed by a lonely brain.

But something tells you there is more to the story, and if you want your mind to rest, you will need answers.

Aug 02 2061. 

That was the day Seokmin’s life changed forever.

He remembers the day like it was yesterday. You two watched the sun rise together, made love, and he watched you fall asleep before he left for the day. He did not, in fact, tell Seungcheol you had a leak that needed fixing, but Seokmin promised he would spend the next day with you. He had it all worked out with Seungcheol, and he was so excited to come home to you that night, to tell you the good news and plan the day together, or do nothing at all. It didn’t matter as long as he was with you.

But when you didn’t come home, and the minutes turned into hours, he knew something was wrong. Seokmin checked your location and noticed it was headed towards the opposite end of the city. He rushed out of the apartment like a bat out of hell, following your signal until it came to an abrupt stop at Neo City Memorial. Seokmin pushed on the gas pedal as hard as he could, running every traffic light and evading law enforcement to get to you. Every fear he had came true that night—you were hurt almost beyond repair, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

Seokmin shakes his head slowly, taking himself out of that day and back to reality, in an apartment where the sun no longer shines, barren of the life and love you brought into it. His phone buzzes again, and he sighs, grabbing the phone and swiping the screen up. His colleague and friend, Wonwoo, has been helping him with his investigation, digging into records that are behind red tape and out of his reach. A large file was sent to Seokmin’s email, encrypted with a password that only he knows.

Vulpes.

Entering his password, he connects his phone to a projector as the files load, filled with contacts of people who were at the club the night you were hurt. Scrolling through the list, he recognizes some of the names: bigwigs, politicians, and gang leaders who contribute to the corruption of Neo City. Nothing out of the ordinary. His attention turns to the file that holds the video footage, the icon blinking in sequences of threes. Tapping on his screen, he sees the video display on his wall, the frame still focused on a back entrance. 

“Let’s do this,” Seokmin sighs before pressing play. 

The video is audioless, with heavy rain pouring from the sky, slightly obscuring the street camera's lens. Seokmin watches intently, his fingers drumming on his leg in anticipation, not wanting to miss anything amiss. Growing impatient, he fast-forwards the video, the minutes dragging on with little to no movement to the back entrance. Did Wonwoo make a mistake? Seokmin thinks to himself. Maybe this is the wrong vid—

At 2:03 am, the back entrance door swings open, with two large men carrying what appears to be a woman, who is twisting and turning wildly, trying to get loose. A light flashed on the figure, briefly but clearly enough, which gave Seokmin pause. The blue dress, one he has seen too many times, is on display, and a chill shoots up his spine. Rewinding slowly, he stops at the frame, his chest tightening at the frozen image before him.

It’s you.

Seokmin stares for far too long, almost unable to believe what he is seeing. You were being carried out and manhandled like you didn’t matter, as if there wasn’t anyone out there who loved you and wouldn’t care if you disappeared. His blood boils with anger as he hastily taps the screen to let the video continue. One of the guards made the mistake of letting go of one of your legs, and you used it to your advantage, kicking him in the chest. He fell back, losing his step and falling ass-first onto the wet pavement. The other guard had your arms pinned behind your back, and as hard as you wrangled, you couldn’t get out of his lock. Even without audio, Seokmin knows you were giving them a good verbal lashing, a look of rage on your delicate face that Seokmin has never seen.

“Atta’ girl,” Seokmin says out loud. At least you still fought back.

Seokmin’s smile vanishes quickly when the fallen guard rose from the ground, stumbling towards you furiously. His fist connected with your left cheek, stunning you into shock. Blow after blow, the man assaulted you, hitting every exposed area he could. Seokmin watched your body go limp, the glee in the guard’s eyes embedded in his head. The guard holding you said something to your assaulter, who stopped his onslaught with a look of satisfaction on his face. Seokmin watches on, his stomach in knots, the anger burning deeper in his gut. These men will never see the light of fucking day again.

You're dragged to a waiting vehicle, set aside the passenger door like some sort of rag doll, your chest rising and falling slowly, your face swollen and bloodied. A figure stepped out of the back entrance, the light catching him, and Seokmin recognized him: Cado. Seokmin always sensed he didn’t like him much, and it’s not lost on him how Cado looked like you with carnality in his eyes. Cado knew better than to try anything in front of him, though.

Cado hustled over to the car, raising his hands angrily and slapping the backs of the heads of the guards. Opening the back door, he motioned for your assaulter to put you in the car. As he grabbed your arms, it is as if you were brought to life, and as an act of defiance, you spat in his face. The light goes out suddenly, just for a few seconds, but when it comes back on, you are on the wet ground, rain pouring on your face, with blood pooling from your head. Cado was enraged, picking you up and shoving you unceremoniously in the car, shouting and pointing in the north direction. Both guards entered the car, driving off suddenly, and Cado re-enters the club, the door shutting swiftly behind him.

The video stops playing, and Seokmin stands there, rooted in place and stewing in rage. He couldn’t be there to protect you, and he had to watch you experience the worst day of your life, and indirectly his too. You were supposed to be married now and living happy lives, but instead, you are apart, and you don’t remember a any of it.

Swiping to a different screen, he presses Wonwoo’s contact, the phone ringing once before he answers.

“You saw the video?”

“No shit,” Seokmin scoffs. “I want those guards found—”

“I’m already ahead of you, Seokmin,” Wonwoo answers. “I’m going to send you this address for the one who did the most damage.”

“Do that, and tell Seungcheol to meet me there,” Seokmin instructs. “Things will get extremely messy.”

“Well. You weren’t exaggerating about the mess.”

Seungcheol walks into the blood-splattered small apartment, slapping on a pair of black gloves made of matte obsidian and seamless synthetic polymer that clings like a second skin. Built with tech that alters fingerprint texture, it makes the person who uses it basically untraceable.

“I take it they are still alive?” Seungcheol surmises, stepping over broken glass.

“Barely,” Seokmin mumbles. Kneeling, he turns the head of one of the guards, the assaulter, Scion, lifting a finger under his nose.

As soon as Seokmin retrieved the address from Wonwoo, he was there in no time. He could’ve waited for Seungcheol to do things the ‘right way’, but all Seokmin could see was you being beaten and thrown around. He could have granted them mercy, but why should he? They gave you less than that, and now you’re both paying the price.

Seokmin hears shuffling behind him, and he turns, watching Seungcheol drag the other guard, Brucus, into the bathroom. He quickly learned their life story from the information Wonwoo sent over. Brucus’s family all died in the war in the neighboring desert, Dismiscus, a decade ago, and Scion comes from a family of lowlifes who are either dead, in jail, or walking the streets.

Basically, nobody would miss them when Seokmin wipes them off the face of the planet.

The bathroom door opens, and Seunghcheol comes out, his nose crinkling at the protruding smell that is starting to fill the space. “I’m pretty sure that guy took his last breath in the tub,” Seungcheol comments, surveying the living room. “I didn’t see any stab wounds or gunshots. What did you use?”

Seokmin holds up his left hand, showing off a glove made of synthetic chromium. “My goal was to make sure he stopped breathing.”

“Goal met,” Seungcheol quips.

Seokmin turns his attention back to Scion, tapping his cheek with two slaps. “Wake up.”

Scion doesn’t stir, his chest rising and falling as if he is in a deep coma. Without a second thought, Seokmin lowers a fist to his ribs, hearing a bone-shattering crack that satisfies him. Scion’s eyes almost bulge out of his sockets, followed by a piercing howl that is quickly covered by Seokmin’s fist.

“This pain is nothing compared to what you gave her,” Seokmin grits his teeth. “Tighten the fuck up.” Crimson slowly coats Scion’s lips. Seokmin stands straight, observing the weak man in this state. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and you are going to tell me everything I need to know.”

Scion slowly raises his head, meeting your gaze for the first time. “I’ve…seen…you…club.” His mouth twitches, a slight smirk on his lips. “You come to see our Vixen.”

Seokmin clenches his jaw, anger stirring in his stomach and hardening from within. He referred to you by your stage name, a nickname Seokmin gave you, and it makes him want to wring Scion's neck. Seungcheol appears to his left, adjusting his gloves. “So you know why he’s here then.”

Letting out a weak scoff, he attempts to sit up but winces, sliding further down the carpet. “Let’s…not play games.”

Seokmin couldn’t agree more. “Aug 02 2061,” he began. “Why was she being carried out of the club?”

Scion attempts to sit up again, lifting off the ground until he is comfortable. He doesn’t answer, instead pulling a cigarette from his front pocket and slipping it into his mouth.

“You got a light?”

Seokmin and Seungcheol exchange annoyed looks, shaking their heads in unison. Seungcheol digs into his pocket, pulls out a lighter, and flicks the switch to ignite the flame. Seokmin is in his right mind to take that cigarette and shove it down his throat while it’s still lit.

Scion looks at you carefully, inhales deeply, and lets out a wet cough. “It was on the boss’s orders.”

Seokmin stares, his jaw ticking in annoyance. “Cado?”

He nods, taking another puff. “That’s the one.” Wiping his nose with his sleeve, he closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall. “She saw something she wasn’t supposed to see.”

That catches Seokmin’s attention. “What wasn’t she supposed to see?”

A slow, evil grin is on his lips, followed by a chuckle. “Business. Stuff way above my pay grade.”

“Care to elaborate on that?” Seokmin grits his teeth.

Scion doesn’t answer, instead burning out the cigarette in his hand. Seokmin takes a good look at him, watching the color slowly drain from his face. A long white scar trails from his sea-green, baggy eye to the corner of his mouth, and he looked rugged, rough around the edges, with tattoos and more scars riddling his arms. It would scare the average person walking down the street, but one thing Seokmin has learned in life is that it doesn’t matter how tough you look if you can’t back it up.

“You still want to protect your boss in death? That’s almost admirable.” Seokmin reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a 9 mm silencer. Taking a deep breath, he points the gun at his head, his index finger steady on the trigger. “I suggest you think long and hard about your answer.”

Flashes of your face and your smile flood his mind. The woman he knows, the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with, was taken away from him cruelly. He will work day and night to get you back, and if a few brains have to be splattered on some walls, so be it.

“I’m not telling you shit—”

The gun goes off before Scion could finish his sentence, blood splattering on his face. Seokmin is numb, not bothered by the violence he had to inflict. He could do it ten times over and still wouldn’t satisfy him.

“Go, Seok,” Seungcheol commands, taking the weapon out of his hands. “I’ll clean up here.”

Seokmin nods, leaving without saying a word. He wasn’t concerned about the noise, since the apartment is in a shitty part of the city and everyone minds their own business. The rain starts to fall heavily from the sky, washing the blood off his face and his leather jacket. Seokmin stands there for a moment, soaking it all in, letting the memories of you dancing in the rain fill his mind. You were always carefree, a pretty bird in a city of terror, and he would give anything to have that back.

Climbing onto his motorcycle, he loads “I Feel Love” into his headphones and roars out of sight, the venom of vengeance consuming him whole.

You can’t stop thinking about Seokmin.

He encompasses every corner of your mind, the montage of your moment together fresh in your head. You seemed to be a couple in love, a familiarity that you somehow feel in your heart, and it bothers you. You don’t know who Seokmin is; you met him for the first time last week at the club. Why does it feel like you were meant to know him?

You gaze at your bare ring finger, rubbing it with your index finger as you're lost in thought. For the past few days, it has felt weird not having a ring there, and if you stare long enough, you imagine seeing an imprint of something that might have been there at one point. You don’t know.

“Is everything alright?”

Slowly coming out of your reverie, you glance at your mother, whose eyes mirror yours in color. “I’m fine,” you clear your throat, shaking your head. “Just a bit tired.”

You stab your fork lazily into your seared lemon trout, taking a small bite to appease your mother. You aren’t sure what your relationship was like during the years you were gone, but before then, she was barely a parent. You were raised by the various nannies that were employed in your home; your mother spent her time playing the perfect wife, and your father was hardly around. You were merely an afterthought unless there was an event that required the whole family to be together. Chin up and smile wide, your mother would dutifully remind you. You don’t want to embarrass your father or the company. Your name carries weight in Neo City, and your parents will protect it by all means, even making you a pawn whether you like it or not.

“Are you still working at that club?” Your mother grimaces. “I don’t know why you bother setting foot in that soiled establishment.”

“Because I like to sing, Mom, and being there lets me do that,” you respond, feeling slightly irritated. You glance at your father, who watches you carefully, his silence louder than anything your mother could say. Crossing your arms, you feel the erratic thump of your heart. “I know you guys are worried about me, but aside from a weird dream, I’m fine—”

“What dream?”

Your father’s voice is soft yet commanding, catching you off guard. He hasn’t talked much since you arrived, barely shown any interest in the daughter walking around with partial amnesia.

“It’s nothing really, Dad,” you dismiss it, shaking your head. “I doubt it means anything.”

“Tell me.”

Your eyes drift from your father to your plate, and you let out a quiet breath. Your finger taps on your leg, unease settling on your chest. If you say it out loud, it becomes real, this dream, that moment with Seokmin. You don’t know what to make of it, and it scares you, experiencing a level of intimacy with a stranger you only met once. But knowing your parents, they will not let it go, and you might as well rip the Band-Aid off now.

“I had a dream about someone who came into the club,” you start, running your fingers through your hair. “I don’t think I know him, but in the dream, it felt like I did. Like maybe I knew him before.”

“Oh?” Your mother’s eyes light up as she wipes her mouth with a napkin. “And you’re sure you don’t know him?”

“Yeah,” you shake your head. “This guy, Seokmin, I have never met him before—”

“Wait,” your father cuts in, raising his hand. “What did you say his name was again?”

‘Seokmin,” you confirm. Grabbing your glass of white wine, you take a sip, noticing his brow furrow with annoyance. “Do you know him, Dad?”

‘What?” Your dad slurs before shaking his head. “No, I don’t know him. I am just concerned about you having dreams about a stranger.” He smiles reassuringly, though it doesn’t match his eyes. “You are still taking your medication, right?”

You throw him an incredulous look and scoff. “Yes, I’m taking my medication!” you spit, rising from your seat. “How could you think that?”

“Well, hold on,” your mother leaps out of her seat, raising her hands. “Your father and I just want what’s best for you.” Her voice cracks at the end, tears welling in her eyes. “We almost lost you.”

You stare at your mother and father, the burning ember of anger brewing in your stomach slowly cooling off. There is something indescribable in your father’s eyes that leaves you uneasy, an ice-cold shiver spreading down your spine.

“It was just a dream,” your mother says. “I wouldn’t worry about it, okay?”

“Your mother is right,” your father agrees. “Sit down and finish dinner.”

It wasn’t a suggestion, but you don’t have any more will to fight with your family tonight. You do as you're told, slowly putting on your poker face as you finish your meal in silence. But something your gut tells you is more than just a dream, and even more sinister, your father might know something about it.

Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since Seokmin has seen you, and the distance physically aches. Not that he hasn’t wanted to, but he’s been busy, cracking heads and taking names—so to speak.

He’s gone through the list of names that were there the night you were hurt, and showed up to a few of those places, gathering all of the information he could get. Some gave it to him willingly; others were harder to convince. It didn’t matter how he got it done, as long as he got what he was looking for. Some survived to see another day; others weren’t so lucky.

Seokmin stares at his hands in the bathroom, his hands covered with dirt and dried-up blood, bruised knuckles that are turning into a nasty shade of purple. Turning on the warm water, he washes the blood away with a fluxus genorum soap he acquired from the Neo City black market, which specializes in rapidly healing most injuries. It was created by a scientist who wanted to cure humanity of their ailments, but the government had other plans. It’s said that the scientist refused, and the scientist suddenly went missing, presumed to be killed by the others of your very own Senator. Yet somehow, his creation can be accessed by certain means. Seokmin always found that interesting.

He unbuttons his shirt, revealing fading bruises he didn’t care to heal. In a way, Seokmin is addicted to the pain. It’s one of the few things that’s real to him; the feeling of a fist trying to crush his abdomen or a pole that swings wildly on his arm. It’s an adrenaline high that he is not trying to be cured from. It keeps him focused and guarded on his investigation to reveal the truth and set you free.

And bring you back to him.

Seokmin strips off the rest of his clothes, washes up quickly, and changes into jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt, then pairs them with his leather motorcycle jacket. He puts on the cologne you like, hoping it will stir your memory in some way. He reminisces about the first time you brought the bottle home and sprayed it on him without warning.

“Whoa there, baby. What did you put on me?”

“Your good luck charm,” you said cheekily, holding up a small yellow bottle.

“My good luck charm is standing in front of me,” Seokmin flirted, pulling you by your waist.

“Well, yes,” you agreed, pressing the bottle onto his chest. “But this will give you an extra boost. It smells good.”

Seokmin squinted, trying to detect any deceit. You loved to prank him, and even though he knew what you were doing before it happened, he let you do it anyway. Seeing the joy in your eyes, the warm laugh that bubbled from your throat gave him endorphins no one else could replicate.

"This isn’t some sort of joke, is it?” Seokmin murmured, his hand drifting lower to squeeze your derriere.

“Mm mm,” you shook your head. “No joke, baby. I bought this with you in mind, and I hope it makes you think of me.”

“I think of you all the time,” Seokmin chuckled, leaning in. “It doesn’t take much.”

“Good, my sunflower,” you nodded proudly. You spray his neck lightly, rubbing in the cologne with your fingers. “Now take me to bed.”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Seokmin jolts himself back to the present, clutching the gun hidden in the back of his waistband. He wasn’t expecting anyone over, and aside from Seungcheol and Wonwoo, no one knows where he lives. He stalks towards the door, his heart racing, wondering if all of the bloodshed is catching up to him. Slowly looking into the peephole, he lets out a small breath of relief, followed by an annoyed scoff.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Seokmin unlocks the door, swinging it widely, facing the unwanted visitor.

“Silas.”

“Seokmin.”

The older man lets himself in, brushing his shoulder against Seokmin as a silent test to see if Seokmin will bite. He knows this type of man, the kind who gets a rise out of pushing buttons; they snap, and then the victim becomes the villain, fitting their narrative. Seokmin was almost always one step ahead of him, and he’s sure it's one of the many reasons he hates him.

“Yes, come in.’ he says under his breath, shutting the door.

“Why are you bothering her at the club?” Silas gets right to the point.

Seokmin gives him a slow, unimpressed once-over. “Because she’s my fiancée,” he answers bluntly. “That’s never going to change, no matter how you try to spin it.”

Silas snorts, surveying the space. “I think you need to get your head checked, boy. My daughter doesn’t and will not have anything to do with you.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Seokmin scoffs, holding eye contact. “Did you come all this way to puff out your chest? Or are you going to finally be the father she needs?”

Silas’s eyes narrow into menacing slits as he steps toward him, his voice a low, dangerous growl. “You don’t know shit about what she needs.”

Seokmin lets out a short, dry laugh, feeling it deep in his gut. “Old man, I know way more than you think.” Stepping around him, he opens the door. “If that’s all you have to say.”

Silas does not invoke any fear in Seokmin’s heart. It doesn’t matter how many connections your father has; Seokmin will still find a way to take them down, and he’s doing alright so far.

Silas sneers, turning on his heel and storming down the hall. “You will regret this!” He barks over his shoulder.

“No, I won’t,” Seokmin yells back, slamming the door behind him.

The sound echoes through his apartment, and Seokmin lets out a long, drawn breath, relieving the tension in his abdomen. A visit from Silas is never a good thing, but it doesn’t deter him—it pushes him to dig even deeper to uncover the lies just beneath the surface. How did he know Seokmin was coming to the club? Aside from the obvious, why is Silas bothered by it?

A myriad of questions swirl in his head, his suspicions growing louder. Pulling out his phone, he presses the dial button and is immediately met with a voicemail. 

“Wonwoo. Look into Silas—yes, that Silas. I have a feeling this is bigger than we thought.”

I'm gonna tell you about love Let's forget your life Forget your problems Administration, bills and loads Come with me

You’re one with the rhythm, twirling in a sensual circle as you swing the mic in the air. There is a large attendance tonight, due to a convention in Neo City that brings nerds from all over the planet. You changed up your makeup at the last minute, going for a more divine look that brings out your eyes. Cado gave you shit for it, but you know what you’re doing, and it’s working; once again, everyone is at your mercy, their mouths partly open as you seduce the crowd with your voice.

Connect to the sky Future lovers ride their ambitions high, would you like to try? Let me be your guide, cut inside your pride Future lovers hide love inside their eyes

The red light sparkles on your dress, a tight, short number that accentuates your legs, paired with heels that are an accessory in their own right. Scanning the room, you let the vibrant energy take over, falling into a trance while you perform. Being on stage is truly your happy place, and there isn’t anywhere else you’d want to be.

As you sing, you’re drawn to a pair of warm brown eyes you could get lost in, a slow smile on his lips as he watches your every move. Excitement tingles through your body, and you keep your composure as you strut over to the man of your dreams.

Love controlled by time Future lovers shine for eternity in a world that's free Put away your past, love will never last If you're holding on to a dream that's gone I'm gonna tell you about love Would you like to try?

The final note lingers in the air, a shimmering vibration that seems to hold the entire room in an intoxicating suspension. As the crowd roars in applause, you wink at him, the shimmer of your makeup catching the strobe lights before you gracefully leave the stage.

Your heart is racing, but it’s not just because of the performance. Instead of heading to your dressing room, you detour to the floor, searching for him among all the bodies in colorful attire. You find your dream guy at the bar, ordering a drink with Chan. Despite the butterflies invading your stomach, you take a seat next to him.

“Hey, stranger,” you greet him with your signature low, sultry voice. “Thought I’d never see you again.”

“You did?” Seokmin responds, a gentle grin on his lips. “That just made my night.”

“I’m glad I could be of service.” You wink again. Feeling confident, you grab his hand, slide off your stool, and pull him along. “Walk with me?”

His hands feel the same as they did in your dream; warm, inviting, and safe. You notice the way his eyes dance as you lead him outside to your hideaway spot near the front entrance. You’re fully aware you’re acting recklessly, and you don’t really know Seokmin. For all you know, he could be a mass murderer. But despite all that, something in the back of your mind tells you it’s okay.

You stop in a tucked-away spot in the dimly lit alley, two patio chairs in front of an abandoned building. Streaks of magenta and cyan from the neon signs spread across the brick walls, alternating sides as the light adjusts according to its programming. No one else comes here, and you come here to think whenever the noise gets too loud. It’s your own little sanctuary, a small bit of peace that’s of your own making.

Seokmin digs into his jacket pocket, pulling out a pack of menthols and opening the carton toward you.

“Want one?”

You smile, taking one and slipping it between your lips. He lights it, his eyes not leaving yours, sending a jolt of sparks throughout your body.

“The man of my dreams,” you murmur as you exhale.

“Am I?” His eyes shift to something softer and unspoken, and you feel heat creep up on your neck.

“Figuratively speaking, of course,” you lie, inhaling deeply.

You exhale the smoke with a perfect ‘O’, watching it rise in the night air until it dissipates. You feel his eyes burning on you, and you don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to explain that you feel drawn to him, and it feels like you were meant to know him. You haven’t had another dream since then, and yet, Seokmin has been in the back of your mind with every thought. You tried shaking it away, meditating away, even sexing it away with someone you met at a bar that you knew you would never see again. Nothing has worked, and you are starting to feel you are truly fucked.

“So what do you do, Seokmin?” you ask, discarding the ash from the stick.

“I’m a private investigator,” he answers, taking a puff of his cigarette. “Been doing it for a while.”

“Yeah?” You say, amused. “So you probably have seen a lot of crazy things.”

“Something like that.”

A sly grin curves on his lips, making him more attractive. “I bet you handle yourself well.”

“I… do my best,” he alludes. “I’m still breathing.”

“You look good and alive to me,” you laugh, your nerves suddenly getting to you. Turning to the side, you slap your hand lightly on your head. This has never been you. You don’t tumble over your words or get tongue-tied over anything, especially men. And yet, Seokmin has you all over the place, stumbling over everything you thought you knew.

“So… what do you do when you’re not hypnotizing clubs or terrorizing your boss?”

You let out an embarrassing snicker, caught off guard by his statement. “What makes you think I terrorize my boss?”

Seokmin throws you a look, a twinkle in his eye as he raises a brow. “You perform like that on stage, and you tell me you aren’t driving your boss nuts?”

You almost choke on your cigarette, laughing. The nerves leave you as easy as they came. “Is it terrorizing or just knowing that I’m right?”

He shrugs with a smirk on his lips. “Touche.”

You shake your head playfully, putting out half of your cigarette. You aren’t really a smoker, but he offered, and you didn’t want to turn him down. Gazing at the sky, the two moons of the planet are full, in a shade of red that appears only once every millennium. How ironic that you are sharing it with the man of your dreams.

“I would ask if you come here often, but I think we know the answer to that,” you say, sauntering closer to him. “I never forget a face—brain injury aside.”

Seokmin bites his bottom lip, turning away slightly to hide a grin.

“It’s okay to laugh,” you encourage him. “My accident didn’t deprive me of my sense of humor, thank gods.”

He lets out a guffaw, his voice echoing off the walls of the alley. In the darkness, you see the light in his eyes, and it melts you. He's even more handsome than he was the first day you saw him.

“You… are funny,” Seokmin manages to say in between breaths. “Are you sure you don’t want to be a comedian?”

“Nah.” You scrunch your nose playfully. “I’d get bored.”

The time on the nearest building dings midnight, signaling your break being over. You don’t want to leave; you want to stay in this place and get to know him, figure out what makes him tick and why you can’t get him out of your head. Silence falls between you two, loud thoughts running through your mind, unsure of what to say next.

“So will you be coming back—”

“—Do you want to go out with me sometime?”

You stare at each other, the silence thick and charged with the kind of electricity that would raise your hair in the wind, followed by a lightning strike. A slow, playful smile curves on your lips as you lean in, the scent of his vanilla-and-spice cologne swirling around you, mixed with the sharp tang of menthols.

“You wanna go out with me?” you tease him. “How do you know I’m not a crazy person who takes their victims into dark alleys?”

Seokmin’s laugh is silvery, his foot itching closer to you, the warmth of his presence vibrating off you. “You’re a creative woman. I’m sure you could do better than that.”

You cock your head back in laughter, almost at a loss for words. “Touche.” Looking back towards the club, you turn to him again. “Walk me back?”

Seokmin holds out his arm to you, and you slip into it easily, like a fitted glove. The walk back is mostly quiet, aside from exchanging numbers and agreeing to see each other in two days. The neon lights dance on your skin, and the club's impending noise grows louder with each step. It’s like you're in your own bubble, existing with him with ease, feeling a sort of peace you didn’t know you needed.

When you reach the entrance, the bubble bursts as Cado leans against the doorframe, arms folded with irritation on his face. His eyes land on you two, his dark pupils narrowing into predatory splits.

“You’re late for your second set, Vixen,” Cado says with a smile that doesn’t match his eyes. “Let’s get you inside, gorgeous.”

He holds out his hand, but his gaze is on Seokmin, his poker face faltering with each second. You glance at Seokmin, who meets the gaze with an unimpressed stare, stepping back slightly to give you space.

“I’ll see you Friday, sunflower.”

You watch him walk away, disappearing into the night. Giddiness takes over; you wish you could leap forward two days. You feel Cado’s hands grip your upper arm, a tad too much pressure, making you wince. You’re ushered back inside, the thumping bass, the thick smoke, and expensive perfume irritating your nose.

“You don’t have to guide me to my dressing room,” you bite. “I’m not a child.”

“If only you knew the concept of time is money,” Cado snaps. “You have five minutes.”

You step into the dim light of your dressing room, the mirror reflecting your image in all of its glory. You quickly tousle your hair, adjust your dress and makeup, and touch your lips with a shade of red that would make the devil jealous. You were done in two minutes instead of five, rolling your eyes at Cado’s attitude earlier.

“I don’t know what his issue is,” you mutter to yourself. “I’m already done.”

Swinging the door open, you make your way to the stage, passing by the boss’s door, which is left slightly ajar.

“Yeah, she’s in the dressing room now… yes, I will keep an eye on her.”

You come to a halt, a chill coming down your spine. You may have lost part of your memory, but you aren’t naive—he is talking about you.

“Yeah… yeah… He was here again.”

Your heart starts to race, everything suddenly feeling heightened as you continue the conversation. Why is Cado so invested in you and who you keep your company with?

“Are you alright?”

You turn around suddenly, facing Chan, who is standing in the hallway, holding boxes of liquor, presumably to stock the bar. You blink, your ears burning from embarrassment and being caught red-handed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you croak, clearing your throat. “I just have a slight headache, that’s all.”

“Oh, if you want, I can give you coltis powder later; that’ll clear it up.”

You give him a weak smile. “I would appreciate it, Chan.”

He nods and walks around you, going back to the bar. You pinch your nose, shaking your head as you let out a loud sigh. Fuck, that was close. Turning around, you see Cado’s door is now closed, ending any chance you had to hear more of the conversation. Disappointment starts to seep in like a leak, but you push it aside, realizing your five minutes are up and it’s time to get on stage. You put on your best poker face, going on stage to applause and cheers, your hands resting on the microphone as you begin your next set.

“Who’s ready for more?”

The crowd cheers.

Turning to your right, you meet the eyes of Cado, who watches you intently with an all-knowing look you can’t understand. You wink at him and begin your set, seemingly showing everyone all is right in the world.

But that’s the opposite of the truth, and it’s far from over.

Part 2 will be posted soon! Let me know what you think in the comments or reblogs <3

taglist: @livelaughloveseventeen @lovelylonelinesssvt @j3nnch3ls3a @shadowkoo @gyupremacy @woo-wonwoo @midariiii

[jakedustry]

𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐂 - 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊𝐌𝐈𝐍

IN WHICH The dreams you once had have died a long time ago. You realized you and music weren’t meant to be, and you learned to be okay with that. While it once ate you alive, you are better now. Knowing you can help aspiring artists pursue their dreams is better than trying for your own anyway. Seokmin doesn’t see it the same way, though. And while he loves your radio show with his whole heart, he loves you just a little bit more. Everyone knows love makes you do stupid things, and it’s no different for him.

pairing » singer!seokmin x radio host!fem!reader genre » fluff, smut, tiniest bit of angst featuring » BSS, dino, jennie

contains » strangers to lovers, radio show setting, BSS as an artist group, self doubt, lost of passion, green flag!Seokmin, nicknames (pretty, princess) warnings » dry humping, voice kink, lots of eye contact, he wraps it up, fingering

word count » 13.5k

↪ izzy adds... oh Seokmin please tell me I didn't do you too dirty akdgakhdgakg I tried I promise. This is only lightly proof read, bear that in mind.

A huge shout out to my favorite banner maker @livmarauder, who did this beauty for me again <33 Also a shout out to @studiosvt for making this amazing collab happen! You all know how much I love our little (big) group.

seokmin masterlist | first time caller

If there is one thing you are unable to live without, it's music.

Humming as you walk the company halls, you allow yourself to only focus on the song playing in your headphones, everything around you becoming blurry. LNGSHOT has been playing on repeat lately, and you can't wait to have them on the show next week.

"Where have you been? I've been texting you all morning!" Chan's voice reaches you as soon as you take your headphones off, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as he disturbs the melody still playing in your head. You take your time getting your jacket off and hanging it on the wall right beside the entrance, turning around just to find your best friend looking at you like he is not happy with the shit you're pulling right now.

You met Chan back when you were twenty one, still struggling with being comfortable with music. It was weird back then but thanks to Chan's constant meddling and encouragement, you managed to love music again. You don't tell him enough, but you are extremely grateful to him for what he did for you all those years back, despite him not even knowing about it.

It's not like he did much in theory, but to you it felt like he did everything. He reminded you why you always loved music, and that was more than anyone else has done for you in a while. He became your best friend shortly after, your shared hobbies and opinions drawing you closer together.

"I'm sorry," you apologize as you cross the room and take your seat beside him. "I didn't notice you were texting me, and I thought I'd take my time this morning when we aren't going live today."

He sighs, unable to be mad at you for long. Taking his phone out, he lays it out in front of you, clicking though multiple tabs before finally landing on the YouTube one. You blink confusedly, your eyes flickering between him and his phone. Chan's weird, that's nothing new, but he is the loud, excited, and overly joyed weird, so seeing him just click through things without saying anything catches you off guard.

"It feels weird since it's my friend I'm talking about here, but he's got a band and they just released their first album and it's really fucking good. I wanted you to listen as soon as I heard it to see what you think," he explains as he clicks on a music video titled CBZ and you finally realize why he's so serious. This is work related.

Focusing instantly, you close your eyes in order for the music to do what it knows best—impress you. You categorize all the voices in your head, the melodies, rhythm, and lyrics. You nod your head in the rhythm, letting yourself enjoy it. Despite you liking a variety of genres, it's still hard for songs to be to your liking. This one though—you are not disappointed. You open your eyes to try and grasp the video as well, but with how short the song is, it switches to a different one at the exact same time.

It's another song by them, by BSS, titled Love Song. Right off the bat, it's different from the first song, but still as good. You like what they have going on, and by the look on Chan's face as he listens with you, he does as well.

"Who is this friend of yours?" You question as the second song comes to an end.

"Seungkwan. Boo Seungkwan. I've known him for a few years and he texted me a few weeks ago asking for my opinion on their CBZ demo. I told him then that it was perfect and it's even better now."

"They write their songs themselves?"

"Yes and no. They have a part, but most of it is by Woozi."

"They got Woozi on this?" Your eyes widen and he laughs at your reaction. "Man, you can't just casually tell me one of my favorite producers was on the team!" You nudge his shoulder. Woozi producing these songs explains a lot—like why you already love it so much.

Chan laughs, the serious tone in his voice disappearing again, like it tends to do around you. You can't blame him because you're the same. Every time you try to be serious at work, it leads to moments like these. It's not your fault. You promise it's not. It's just what happens when your coworker is your best friend. Especially when you get paid for talking together on a radio show about the things you love the most. "I was thinking about pitching them to Jennie. What do you think?"

"I think you should," you encourage him. "I'd love to have them on. I think they fit us. And I'm not saying that because Woozi produced the song," you roll your eyes when he gives you a knowing look. Having Woozi helped, but you seriously think they have a talent. "Talk to Jennie about it first and then send Seungkwan an official email so we can plan further."

"Yes, ma'am," he salutes, causing you to shake your head at him.

♡⸝⸝♡⸝⸝

Seokmin always dreamed big. From wishing he'd grow as tall as his father when he was a child, up to this day, hoping for his career to take off and showcase his voice to the whole world. He's one step closer to that goal now that their first album has been released, and he couldn't be happier. The first hundred views was already a blow, but nothing could prepare him for how it'd feel to wake up and their song to blow up.

He's been buzzing all morning, constantly texting all his closest friends and freaking out about it. It's a dream coming true, and with each new compliment he sees, his love for music only grows.

But what makes him jump up from his bed entire is the message sent into the BSS group chat just a week after CBZ was released. There are many things Seungkwan could say—they are trending, people hate their song, people love their song, Woozi wants them to get into the studio again, or maybe that Seungkwan's mom is inviting them for dinner again—but a forward of an invite for behind the mic, one of Seokmin's favorite shows, is on the very bottom of things he expects.

It only takes him a few clicks before he is on a call, waiting for both Seungkwan and Soonyoung to join. "You're serious, right? This isn't a joke of some sort? Because if it is, Kwan, I cannot promise you I won't slap the shit out of you."

"Whoa, violence," Seungkwan raises his free hand up in surrender, blinking at him. When he joined the video call, he was not prepared for Min to start with this without any greeting. "It's real. Remember the friend I mentioned before, Chan?"

"The first person who listened to our song? No, how could I remember him?" Seokmin fakes a confusion, causing Soonyoung to snicker as he hides his laugh with his hand.

"He is a host on the show. They want us on sometimes next week. We need to tell them what day we're free as soon as possible."

"How did I not figure out your Chan is Lee Chan?" Seokmin curses at himself quietly, plopping down on his bed again. "This has been a milestone ever since they first started broadcasting, you don't get it."

"Trust me," Soonyoung starts, smiling awkwardly as he passes a group of people at the store he's at, "we've heard plenty enough about them from you to get it."

"As if you didn't find a bunch of new artists you listen to through them," Seokmin scoffs.

"Never said otherwise."

Behind the mic started broadcasting three years ago, with you and Chan as the hosts. He was on his way to visit his family back then, the car radio on a random station. It was a coincidence, really, but Seokmin likes to call it fate. He remembers Sombr being on that day after his first EP was released. He debated changing the station to something more popular when he stopped at a red light, but your voice stopped him. He couldn't tell what it was you were talking about, but he certainly remembers the pull he felt.

He's been tuning in at two pm every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday like a clock, looking forward to the new artists you were going to introduce to him and finding out more about them. To now be offered the same opportunity, to sit in the studio with both of you and talk about the process behind writing CBZ and what he does in his every day life, truly feels like a dream come true. Not only will it bring new fans their way, but he will also finally get to talk to the two people that have been brightening his days for the past three years.

If he is honest, he might be looking forward to one of the hosts more than the other, but he wouldn't dare to say that out loud.

Friday is what they guys have decided on, Seungkwan sending Chan a message as soon as their video call ended and Seokmin stopped freaking out over being on his favorite show. His friends can't blame him though, they would have done the same had they been in his shoes. So they sat there patiently on the call with him, letting him talk their ears off.

Just like the week ago, and the week before that, and the one before that, Seokmin turns on his radio right on time, finding the right station. "That was amazing, 16," your voice rings in his ears. He's a little late today, so he didn't get to hear the first song, but it's okay, he's surprisingly always preferred the chatting segment more either way. "Can you tell us more about the process behind writing Not Anymore so the fans can get to know the song a little more before they get to know you?"

Seokmin listens to the radio as he paces around his room, taking the time he has on hand to clean his room. He stops in his track every once and then when you say something that catches his attention, taking the time to listen to what you have to say or ask before he resumes what he was doing.

One may call him biased, but he swears it's not like that. You just happen to ask the more interesting questions, while Chan is the one to make the chats more funny. You each have your own strengths, and he just sometimes prefers the interesting questions over funny moments.

He listens till the end, staying for the ending song Make no sense as well and adding it to his playlist before turning the radio off again as your broadcast comes to an end. Checking the time as if he didn't already know the show ending means it's three pm, he quickly collects all his things before rushing out of the apartment to get to the studio.

Soonyoung will complain he is late again, but it's not his fault. He needed to listen to today's behind the mic, otherwise the rest of the day would just go wrong.

♡⸝⸝♡⸝⸝

You've met many artists since you started behind the mic with Chan. Much more than you could count if anyone asked you. But you are certain none of them were ever as excited as the man standing in front of you right now. His eyes flicker all over the room, taking in the sight of the studio. It's not much, but it's enough to have your show running. Neither you or Chan ever troubled yourself too much with how the interior looks since the fans can't see it anyway.

The walls are all white, decorated with different kinds of paintings and awards you got. There is a large black desk with six chairs and a dark green couch in the corner that Chan likes to occupy during his break. Despite your show only being on for an hour a day, there is a lot more work the two of you do. Planning future broadcasts, scouting artists, budgeting their fees, helping your other coworkers when they need, and even making music together.

Chan is the only person you're comfortable around enough to show him your music and have him hear your voice, whether that's through singing or simple lyrics composing. You know you will never showcase it to the world, you've made your mind on that back when you were fifteen, but he likes taking his ideas to the finish line and consulting you along the way. He released his first song two years ago, and you couldn't be prouder of him. You still have the demo version of Wait somewhere on your laptop, thinking about the day he let you listen to it for the first time whenever you question if what you're doing is really the right move for you.

Being reminded of the smile on his face when he showed you his song, and then the one he wore as he talked about his single on the show always reassures you that you are right where you're meant to be. Making your own music and showcasing it to the world might not have been in your cards, but helping others reach their goal and support them on their way certainly is.

"Please, take a seat anywhere," you smile at the three guys known as BSS. "We are sorry if calling you here so early was an inconvenience for you. We just need to go through some things before the broadcast starts and there is no way of knowing how long that will take."

"We used to meet thirty minutes before the show would start and it always ended up being a mess, which is why we prefer it this way," Chan explains, motioning towards the couch with his hand for them to sit.

"No worries, we cleared our schedule for today in advance," Seungkwan brushes him off before shooting Seokmin a look, almost as if it was his fault. Well, it might have been. With how he wouldn't stop talking about it, it was the only way they could get him to shut up. "Thanks for having us," he smiles, pulling Chan into a hug.

It's the first time you've had someone he knows on the show, and the vibe is already entirely different. It tends to be awkward at times at first, but thanks to how comfortable the guys are together, you don't think you'll have to worry about that.

You watch them with a smile before turning on your heel and going to one of the drawers you have, pulling out three papers from it. "These are some of the questions we ask on the show. Please, look through them and let us know which ones you don't want us to ask, for whatever reason. On the other hand, feel free to mark, underline, or anything else, with the questions you want us to ask. It's nice when we can talk about something that excites you, whether that is your hobbies outside of music, your family, or how you grew up."

They all nod as you hand them the papers. They all tower over you, so you appreciate it when they all sit down on the couch and you don't feel so little anymore. Chan takes the opportunity and reminds you of their names as they study the questions, only Seokmin raising his eyes from the paper when his name falls off your friend's lips.

"Lee Seokmin," he grins, extending his hand towards you. You return his smile, holding his hand in yours as you name slips past your lips. "I know," he chuckles. "Kind of a fan."

"Kind of," Soonyoung laughs and Seokmin shoots him a glare. "Should have seen him when we got the invitation."

"Soonyoung is known for lying any chance he gets, please don't listen to him."

You laugh at their interaction, shaking your head before turning to your colleague. "Coffee time?" He immediately agrees, and so you ask the same question the other three.

Seokmin watches as you leave the room to make coffee for everyone, nudging Soonyoung's shoulder harshly when the door closes. "Can you not embarrass me? I know a lot about you, stuff that I could talk about when the show starts."

Soonyoung raises his hands in surrender, "I only spoke the truth. In fact, by the smile on her face I believe she liked it."

"I thought you guys were here to promote your music?" Chan raises an eyebrow as he watches them, a teasing tone lacing his voice.

"We are," Seungkwan assures him quickly, not catching the hint of amusement on Chan's face. "Seokmin is a fan, though, and by how much he talks about the show and how excited he was when he found out we would be on, one would think he is in love."

"I love the concept you two built," he jumps right in, ignoring the comment about him being in love. Because he isn't. It's normal to have a favorite broadcast and to tune in every time it's on. Many of your fans do it, so why would it be any different for him? He simply enjoys listening to you talk and learning more about great artists. "It's nice to look at music from a different perspective and learn not only about how the song was made, but also about who made it."

"A lot of the artists you guys introduce are either freshly on the scene or aren't as popular as others, so their fans don't have many sources where they could learn about their lives, but you provide that. You allow the fans to learn about the person they listen to while still promoting their music," he finishes his rant, his cheeks heating up when he realizes how much he said. He's glad you're out right now and he saved this embarrassement from at least one of the hosts.

But Chan's lips curve up into a smile much to Seokmin's surprise. "You should repeat that when she comes back if you want to make her even more excited about working with you. It was her idea, really. I just chased her around and complimented her until she allowed me to be a part of this project. I still don't get how it worked out."

His words ring in Seokmin's ears loud and clear. Chased her around and complimented her until she allowed me to be a part of this. It's definitely not an advice he should take, those are completely different situations and most importantly, how he feels about your radio show does not mean he also feels a certain way about you like his friends tend to believe.

He has always been good at chasing and complimenting, though.

You come back into the room with a trail full of coffee mugs and Seokmin stands up from the couch as soon as he notices you, crossing the room in a few long strides. "Here, allow me," he offers with a bright smile, taking the trail from your hands.

Blinking up at him, you let your hands drop down to your sides. "Thank you," you return his smile, your eyes flickering to the rest of guys in the room. They're all watching you for some reason, making your cheeks heat up. Clearing your throat, you quickly avert your eyes from them and fix your shirt, letting them each take a cup.

"Thank you for inviting us," Seokmin says as he approaches you again, leaving the trail with two cups—one for you and one for him—on the table. "Like I said, I'm kind of a fan," he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, his eyes closed and an adorable smile on his lips. "And maybe Soonyoung wasn't so far from the truth. It does mean a lot to be here."

"We aren't anything you should freak out over," you shake your head, even though a smile creeps up on your lips as you listen to him. "Wait for when you get a Buzzfeed invite."

"As great as it would be to be on Buzzfeed, Behind the Mic means the same to me," he assures you. "I've been listen to you guys ever since you started, and I just want you to know how much I love what you and Chan built together. It's a great opportunity for artists to introduce themselves to fans and get out there."

Seokmin watches as your cheeks catch the color red, your eyes flickering all over your face, as if trying to find a proof of him not being real. He has to admit, you're cute. With your eyes focused on him, a soft smile playing on your lips, partly in disbelief and partly from how proud of yourself you are, and your hair framing your face, you exceed all expectations he's ever had of you.

He's seen you before, of course he has. Shortly after finding your broadcast, he started following both you and Chan on instagram. It helped him put a face to the voice he is always listening to, but if he's honest, you look so much prettier in person. He would never dare to say you wouldn't be beautiful in the pictures he saw you post on your feed, but the camera simply doesn't capture your beauty as well as his eyes do.

"You've—" you pause, trying to grasp the situation. You know people listen to your radio show, you know you have fans who have been here for a while and all that, but it's the first time you're standing in front of an actual artist who just expressed to you he is probably a bigger fan of you than you're of him. "How long have you been listening for?"

"Got here when Sombr did." You don't have to do the math in your head, knowing exactly when that was. You had him on at the very beginning, your room half the size it's now as you were just starting and your boss wasn't sure how well you'd do. Three years. This man has been listening to you and Chan talk for three years. Oh God. Is this the right time to freak out?

You snap out of it, trying to look as unbothered as possible as you reach for your cup of coffee and bring it to your lips. "Thank you for sticking around for so long," you mumble, looking at him briefly through your eyelashes. "We appreciate it a lot." The smile never leaves his lips, not as he takes his own cup with his eyes never leaving yours, not as he tells you about his favorite interviews so far, and definitely not as you admit you really loved their first album.

"We are on in ten," Chan interrupts your talk with Seokmin as he passes by you. Your eyes widen at the realization of how long you've been talking to him for, panic taking over you in worry of things not being ready.

"Fuck," you curse, standing on your tiptoes to look over his shoulder at his two band mates. "Are there any questions you guys have for us before we go live? Anything you want to know about? We need to talk about how it's going to go, what segments will be on and if you're okay with everything. We don't want to share anything you aren't comfortable with."

"Calm down," Seokmin's voice reaches you at the same time as his hands do. He's holding both of your shoulders, his eyes reminding you it's all okay and there is no need to panic.

"I already went over it with them," Chan smiles, but it's not as reassuring as Seokmin's smile is. No, his is much more teasing, as if he was trying to tell you something with it. You don't pay it any attention, shifting your attention back to Seokmin. You like looking at him more than looking at your coworker anyway. "Hope you don't mind we did it without you, Min. You just seemed so occupied."

You catch him rolling his eyes a bit as he shakes his head. "I'm sure whatever you guys decided on is great. As much as I hate they do, the two of them know me more than I know myself."

Soonyoung scoffs behind him. "Took you long enough to realize."

"Just about what? Three years to accept what we've been saying this entire time?" Seungkwan is smiling as well as he walks past you, patting his friend on the shoulder before sitting down at the table. Soonyoung follows suit, and it's only then that Seokmin let's go off your shoulders again. He shoots the guys a look you can't read, making your brows furrow as you look at them. You have a feeling there is more to what was just said than you can understand, and you hate that Chan's teasing grin makes it look like he is in on whatever is going on.

"Just so you know, you are still full of bullshit," he points at both of them. You take a step aside from the table and he smiles at you once more before taking a seat. "I'm just growing and realizing some things. Neither of you have anything to do with it, though."

"Sure we don't," they scoff at the same time and Seokmin rolls his eyes. You round the table to take your own seat, collecting the papers with questions from the guys and taking a look at them.

"We have two of your songs ready," you proclaim as you look up. "One is going to play at the beginning before we start talking, and the other is going to end our segment. Would you like for CBZ or Love Song to play first?"

"Let's play Love Song first," Seokmin decides. The guys don't question him in the slightest, nodding along. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but more people are listening at the end than right at the beginning."

"You're right," you blink, amazed by his knowledge. Your eyes stay on his and his smile grows, easily one of the prettiest ones you've seen in a long time. You shake your head out of it, glancing at your colleague. "Ready?"

"I always am," Chan grins, checking the time once more before changing the radio status to live.

♡⸝⸝♡⸝⸝

As the live light turns off again, you lean back in your chair, stretching your hands above your head. "Good work today, you all did awesome," you praise them, catching Seokmin's eyes. The two of you have been playing eye tag the entirety of the broadcast, checking each other out as sneakily as possible.

At least that's what you think you've been doing. You can't exactly see inside his head and read his thoughts—even though you'd love to be able to do that—but you can speak for yourself and the longer you look at him for, the more attractive you find him.

You'd like to blame it on the fact you love his music, and so it's only natural to be curious about him, but in the last three years, you never felt like this while on the show. Sure, you had a bunch of artists you admire and look up to, but that's all it is, admiration. When you look at Seokmin, and catch the smile on his face, it's attraction much more than anything else.

"It was great having you guys on," Chan adds, extending his hand forward over the table for them to shake it. Soonyoung is the first one to reach towards him, praising the work you two did as he shakes his hand. Seokmin follows right after, until finally, Seungkwan stands up from his place and instead of just shaking his hand wraps his friend in a hug.

Seokmin watches you as you get up to clean the papers with questions back to where you took them from, exchanging a glance with the other guys. "Go for it," Chan chuckles at him, shaking his head slightly before continuing his conversation with Seungkwan. They did perfectly until now, so who is he to stand in Seokmin's way when he saw how much you laughed with him before they went live?

"Hi," whispers as he joins your side. You glance at him over your shoulder, greeting him right back. "I still can't believe I just did that."

You roll your eyes playfully, "We aren't a huge show," you remind him, but you're sure he doesn't pay much attention to your words. It's nice to know someone thinks so highly of the show you created and supports it with his whole heart.

"You are huge to me, though."

You keep your eyes on the cabinet in front of you, reorganizing things as if there was anything that would need fixing. Truth is, you just don't want him to see how red your face gets when he talks to you. You enjoyed today's broadcast more than others, partly because of how friendly the atmosphere was, but mainly because you got to know him more.

Who would have thought this man was in a rock band when he was in middle school, that his role model is Yoon Dohyun, or that he likes anime? He walks around you, leaning on his side. You glance at him briefly before looking down at the cabinet again, ignoring how handsome he looks while watching you.

"I enjoyed today a lot, being able to sit here and be on the receiving end of your questions instead of just listening over the radio," he tells you. "Knowing how it actually works now, I think I'll like your show even more from now on."

"It's not just my show," you remind him, finally looking at him properly again.

He shrugs, his significant smile on. "That's true, but I learned I tend to care about you more than Chan, so I think I'll keep addressing it as such."

The last thing you expected today is to have the guy you were just interviewing to be so openly flirting with you. Is this how Hailey felt when her favorite artist started flirting back with her? You bet it is. Quickly shutting the cabinet close, you look at him in panic. His eyes soften as soon as he meets yours, offering you a gentle smile.

"Min, we should get going."

Seokmin doesn't look at his friends as he answers, keeping his eyes on you, "Just a second!" You swallow under his gaze, feeling more and more nervous. As much as you liked playing eye tag with him during the interview, this is a completely different situation. You didn't have enough media training. You have no idea what you're supposed to do when he looks at you like he's just as—if not more—interested as you are.

Have you lost your mind? You might have if you think it's okay to look at him like this—like you want him to cross the invisible line you're trying so hard to draw. Okay, trying might be a strong word.

"What are you doing on Saturday?" He tilts his head. You shake your head quickly but his smile only grows. "You're not doing anything or you're already rejecting me?"

"Is there anything to reject?"

"If you'd like for something to be there," he shrugs innocently. "Any plans for Saturday?" He repeats his question when you don't give him a clear answer.

You hesitate, your eyes flickering all across his face, trying to decide what the right answer is. It's not helping that you can feel Chan's eyes on you. As much as they're pretending to be busy in a conversation, you know all three of them are watching you and waiting for what you have to say.

You wonder what Chan would do if he was in your position. If someone from a girl band flirted with him and gave him the opportunity to take her out, would he go with her? Thinking back to all the times he talked your ears off about some female celebrities and how he swore he would shoot his shot with them if he ever met them because he only lives once, you think he would.

"Whatever you have in mind?"

"Perfect," Seokmin nods. He digs his phone from his pocket, unlocking it for you before extending his hand towards you. You blink at the screen for a second before taking it from him, typing in your number.

As much as it feels like a dream to have your number in an artist's phone, it's scary. What if your boss finds out and decides you're being unprofessional? What if it causes a scandal that will destroy everything you worked on until now? What if even the last one of your dreams gets buried because of the fact you decided to be selfish for once?

"I'll text you," Seokmin's voice brings you out of your thoughts again, his proud grin reassuring you that whatever happens, it's okay to see it though first before panicking. He joins his friends, wrapping his arm around Soonyoung's shoulder and showing him something on his phone—your number, no doubt. You shake your head at them, unable to hide your own smile as you watch them all say their last goodbyes before leaving the room.

♡⸝⸝♡⸝⸝

Just like he said he would, Seokmin texted you that night. At first, you simply exchanged a few words about the interview earlier, but those messages shortly turned into him trying to get to know you more.

Asking anything that came to mind as well as sharing random things about himself, he managed to completely forget about the show playing on his TV screen. He could not say what the last thing that happened there was, but he could confidently talk about what your favorite show is, or your favorite color, or the flowers you like, or literally anything you told him about yourself in the past hour.

You're not doing any better. The songs you put on as background noise while cleaning your kitchen after dinner have long been forgotten, and so has your kitchen, sitting still as messily as it did before you ate your food. Leaning against the kitchen counter, you keep a smile on your face while exchanging messages with Seokmin, your interest growing with each thing he tells you about himself.

He is adorable. His favorite movies are the Harry Potter movies—and as much as you don't share the same interest, you are convinced you could listen to him talk about it for hours—he loves sunflowers, all kinds of sports, and apparently used to act a little before forming BSS with his friends. You will never regret asking him more about it, because as soon as you did, you received not only pictures of him when he was playing in the theater, but also pictures of his other hobbies, including a photo of him in the swimming pool, which you know he sent on purpose.

You certainly don't mind, taking a good look at him before answering, teasing him about how hard he's trying. When he asks you back if it's working and you admit that it is, you create a smile on both your and his face.

Saturday comes around quickly, and you find yourself in front of a coffee shop, the first stop on today's plan as he informed you. Fixing your hair one last time, you walk inside and immediately search for him. It's not hard when your eyes find his instantly, the smile he offers you as you walk to the table he is occupying causing a warm feeling in your chest.

"Hi," he greets you softly.

"Hi."

He goes order for the both of you, using what he's learned about you last night to order your favorite. He's cute. You watch him as he does, admiring him from afar. He's dressed in a white button up, his sleeves rolled up slightly to show off his forearms, blue jeans, and there's a black jacket hanging over his chair. It's simple, and yet you still can't stop looking at him. He's handsome, radiating off this energy you feel drawn to.

He places a latte in front of you and you bring it closer, thanking him for buying it for you. He brushes you off, acting as if it wasn't anything as he takes his seat. Resting his hands on the table, he let's his coffee sit for a while, simply watching you. You feel your cheeks flush under his gaze, looking down at the table. "You didn't tell me what the rest of the plan is," you mumble, suddenly nervous as you sit in front of him.

"I want for it to be a surprise. And, truthfully, I'm scared if you're going to like it or not so I'm deciding not to think about it and stay in the moment instead."

"As long as you're not planning to feed me to the sharks or something, I think we're good," you glance up at him again, a reassuring smile on your lips. He returns it, his nerves slowly disappearing. He can do this. What's the worse that could happen? You tell him to go fuck himself and he won't be able to listen to your show anymore without feeling like shit? Oh yeah, there's nothing to worry about today.

The shift in the vibe as soon as he starts talking about what he did in the morning is obvious, both of you getting more relaxed. He tells you about another interview they did this morning, and how he completely memorized the story meaning behind their music video now, telling you all about that as well when you ask. You keep nodding along, unable to look away from him when he speaks so excitedly. You can tell he is genuinely proud of himself and the guys.

"That's incredible, Min," you praise in awe after he shows you how well their songs are doing right now. You knew they would right away when you first listened. "You deserve all the love— Fame. I meant fame," you quickly correct yourself but it's too late already, his easy going smile is now replaced with a teasing smirk, his chin resting in his palm and his head slightly tilted.

"I deserve the love?" He repeats, the grin on his face so annoying you just with to slap it away. Or kiss it away. Both options work for you at the moment. "I know of one person's love I want. And if you think I deserve it, then surely it's possible."

"Love? I didn't say love," you shake your head, acting as if nothing happened. "You must be hearing things. The fame probably got to you already and now you're imagining things."

"What does one have to do to have you admit you are also interested in me," he sighs, but nothing about it screams exhaustion like he probably wants. If anything, he sounds dreamy, holding back his smile as he bats his eyelashes at you. "At least a little bit."

"A little bit," you nod, keeping your eyes on him as you do. You see his back straighten immediately, his grin growing. It makes you laugh. He looks like a little puppy, excited because his owner just said he'll give him a treat. He truly is adorable. It'd be a lie if you claimed you aren't interested, or that you don't wonder what he'd be like in a relationship, how he'd act and if he'd treat you well. Something tells you he'd be a perfect boyfriend.

If you're lucky enough, maybe you'll be able to find out.

"Tell me what you did this morning," he prompts, doing nothing to hide the fact he is excited like a little kid. "I want to hear all about it."

You take a sip of your latte in an attempt to not dwell on his words and fall for him right then and there, but it doesn't do much to help. Clearing your throat, you glance at him briefly before letting him know you visited your sister earlier. When he asks further, you also tell him what you talked about together, and what you watched. When he says he'd love to watch a movie with you another day as well, all your hopes at staying sane vanish out the window.

You leave the café an hour later, walking side by side with him. Your hands keep brushing against each other, but he doesn't do anything to pull away, so you don't either. There is constantly a smile on your face when you're around Seokmin, and if the easy conversations you have with him didn't already convince you enough to want to pursue this further, this certainly does.

You still don't know where you're headed next, blindly following Seokmin as he guides you through the streets. At one point, when you are about to step on the crosswalk at the same time as the green light switches to red, he grasps your hand in his, pulling you back until you hit his chest. Gasping, you quickly raise your eyes to meet his, obviously panicked while he just carries his carefree smile. You push yourself off him again, but let him keep holding your hand. As not to get lost, you convince yourself.

When you see how happy he is from the simple act, from being able to hold your hand for a while, you stop convincing yourself of anything and admit to yourself you also want to hold his hand. You lace your fingers with his, tugging your free hand into your pocket and looking down at the ground beneath your feet as you keep walking, the conversation with him never dying.

Finally stopping again, you look up at the building you're standing in front of, trying to figure out where he took you. "Oh no," you quickly shake your head as you read the name, facing him. "Let's not do this. Let's go somewhere else. I'm sure there is something playing in the cinema, or maybe we could go get dinner? I could even go for a swim with those sharks right now."

He chuckles at your reaction, thinking you're just joking around. But honestly, karaoke is the last thing you want to do right now. When he notices your eyes full of distress, he raises your connected hands and draws small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. "It'll be fun, c'mon. Please, the fact that I'm technically a singer doesn't mean I'm good at karaoke," he smiles, hopping to make you feel better about this. He managed to completely forget about his worries of you not liking this as he was talking with you, but it's all slowly coming back to him now. "We don't need to be serious about this at all. Let's just laugh together and order some good food to it, hm?"

Your eyes flicker all over his face, debating turning around and running away for a good second. As much as you don't want to do karaoke tonight and find out what he thinks about your singing, you don't want to leave, though. You want to stay with him, listen to him singing, laugh a lot with him, and eat that delicious food. So, after giving it a second though while gazing into his eyes, you sigh. "Let's go in."

"Yes! You won't regret this, I promise. And, who knows, maybe we'll find out you're a much better singer than I am."

Yeah, you're convinced that won't happen. If anything, you're expecting for him to run away the moment he hears you singing, realizing you're just embarrassing and whatever he saw in you before is now gone. People tend to do that. And as much as you don't want him to be like that, you're always expecting the worst when it comes to you and music.

The karaoke room is pretty, white walls lined with colored lightnings that change it to purple, a nice brown couch that could easily fit an entire party, and most importantly, a karaoke machine with a projector. Seokmin doesn't hesitate going to the machine, already looking through the song list while you take a seat on the couch, looking around the room.

It's been a while since you last visited a karaoke place. Almost ten years, if you remember correctly. Who are you trying to fool here? You know exactly when the last time you were here was. You were fourteen, going out with your old friend and a bunch of her older friends. You were the youngest of them all, and the one in love with music much more than they were.

Thinking back to it, it was just your fault, really. Hadn't you tried so hard, hadn't you hoped for one of the older guys to notice and praise you, you would be saved from the embarrassement that followed. But at fourteen, you couldn't possibly know guys don't like music like you did, that they go here just to laugh and joke around instead of actually trying.

You thought singing your heart out would give you the attention of the boy you liked, and it did, but in a completely different way than you wished for. You still remember the Britney Spears song you sang, and how everyone looked at you weirdly when they realized you weren't just playing around like they were. They claimed you tried to embarrass them by being better, that you did it on purpose to make yourself feel superior. You tried to argue, explain the situation and apologize, but before you could do any of it, you were interrupted by who you thought was your friend. "She does this all the time. She thinks she's going to be a singer or whatever. Her notes are all full of texts she wrote in class, look."

You felt proud at first when she pulled out your notes book from your bag, but as soon as everyone started laughing while flipping through the pages, your smile quickly fell off. You quickly dropped the mic, trying your hardest not to let their words get to you and snatch the book away. At fourteen, though, it's not easy to ignore what others say about you and how they feel about the things you love.

It was never easy to ignore how others perceived you, but at that moment, even the last bits of accomplishment left you. You stopped loving music for years, completely giving up on the dream you once had. There was no reason to continue trying if what you got in return was this.

It was only after Chan came into your life that you managed to stop hating music again and pick up your old notes, smiling as you red through the lyrics you wrote as an early teen.

Sitting here now, all the bad memories you have with music come rushing back, the image of Seokmin replaced with the image of your old upper classmates, the pretty smile on his face gone and a loud, mocking laugh facing you instead.

You quickly shake your head, but the image doesn't disappear until finally, finally, Seokmin's voice reaches you, the call of your name making you snap out of it. "You're in your head," he says, not in a way that would be meant to accuse you, but rather wondering what it is you're thinking so hard about. "Do you really hate this?" He tilts his head and you're about to burst from how pretty you find him. "We can leave. I should have asked properly first if you wouldn't mind going here, I was selfish deciding on what I wanted instead of thinking about you—"

"Let's stay," you interrupt him with a smile. "I want to hear you sing live. And, I was promised some delicious food." He smiles again at your words, nodding enthusiastically.

The first song starts—a Korean ballad you heard a few times when you were little—and Seokmin's voice echoes loudly in your head instantly, helping you stay grounded in the present. He pushes aside all the bad memories of this place, doing his hardest to replace them with happy once without even knowing it as he sings while looking at you. His eyes stay locked on you, and you happily nod your head along to the rhythm, only focusing on the music.

He's great. You knew he was, but getting to hear him sing in person, his raw voice the only thing you hear in this closed room, is so much better than you thought it'd be. He motions with his hand for you to stand up and join him, but you just shake your head, refusing. When he lowers his mic so you can see his face fully, his eyes gently commanding you to listen to him, you do as he says and get up. Your steps are hesitant as you cross the room to him, but he doesn't seem to pay it any attention.

Lowering the mic to your height, he encourages you to sing with him and turn the song into a duet. You don't. Keeping your lips shut, you let only the melody play in the background with no support of the vocals. Seokmin reaches for your hand with his free one, lacing his fingers with yours again. His voice is closer to a whisper now as he continues singing, keeping your mind wondering what the right move here is. Deep down, you want nothing more than to sing with him and give into your passion again, but you're also freaked out.

You're not sure how long you just stand there for, but eventually, once a different song is on, you join in. You keep your voice quiet, enough for the mic to pick it up but not loud enough like he did before. A smile spreads on his lips—wider than before—instantly, squeezing your hand gently. It takes a moment for you to get comfortable, but as soon as you do, it's a lot easier to have fun again.

He spins you under his arm, laughing into the mic while also trying his hardest to keep the song going, glancing on the wall where the projected screen falls to check on the lyrics every now and then. You laugh with him, dancing with him to the Korean ballad he sings that certainly doesn't suit this dance. Neither of you care though, and it helps you forget about the bad memories.

Eventually, you even take the mic from him, choosing your own song to sing. He takes a seat on the couch, watching you with such a proud smile you feel like you can do anything at the moment. It's definitely thanks to him and his continuous cheers that you get to let go of your worries and sing loudly again, completely forgetting about why you stopped loving singing in the first place.

You watch the lyrics on the wall, doing your best not to mess up while he whistles behind you, causing a laugh to bubble out of you. The food he ordered after the first few songs arrives in the meantime, but you don't look back to acknowledge it. Not until the song ends and you look at Seokmin to see what he thinks.

Clapping loudly, he is unable to take his eyes off you. "Encore! Encore! Encore!" He shouts, making you laugh. You shake your head at him, taking a seat beside him on the couch and leaving the mic to rest on the table for now. "You are so amazing. I don't get why you didn't want to sing right away."

"I'm not really good," you shake your head. He doesn't need to say what he thinks about the bullshit that just left your lips, his gaze giving it away clearly enough.

"I'm not even kidding, I wonder how on earth BSS is doing so good when there are singers like you out here. You're going to steal my job," he nudges your shoulder playfully. You roll your eyes at him, but it'd be a lie to say his words won't be on repeat tonight. Your name leaves his lips, a hopeful attempt to get you to look at him again. Once you do, he offers you one of his smiles. "You are an incredible singer."

Is this what it feels like to fall in love? Your head spins. You feel drunk, drunk on him and his words. It's the same thing you've wanted to hear for ages, words of encouragement you needed so desperately when your life was falling apart at the mere age of fourteen. You could cry. You're pretty sure if he says anything else, you actually will.

So, before he can do that, you lean forward and press your lips to his.

The shock he feels is evident, but it's also gone as fast as it appeared, his hands finding your waist with ease and pulling you closer. His lips mold perfectly with your own, his hands on your skin burning in just the right way, making you feel like that's exactly where they are supposed to be. Your body inches towards him on its own, melting into him.

"Thank you," you breathe out against his lips, your voice barely above a whisper.

He watches you, a little confused and blown, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. "I didn't do anything," he shakes his head gently, but that's not true. He did everything you could possibly want him to do.

You had relationships before, casual hook ups but also things more serious. Not once were you told what he managed to assure you of on your first date together. Maybe it makes you easy, maybe it screams how broken you are, but you could not ask for more. It's the only thing you always ached for, to hear you shouldn't give up on your dreams and that you have potential. Your sister tried, but it never felt the same coming from her like it does hearing it from him.

"I should have asked first," you pipe nervously, still not moving away, staying with your face inches from his.

He shakes his head again, "You don't have to. In fact, please kiss me whenever you like." You chuckle at his response, his eyes desperate, never leaving yours. You nudge his shoulder with your palm, only for him to catch your wrist and lean forward, kissing you again. The smile is evident on both your and his lips as you kiss, moving closer and closer, until you're practically sitting in his lap.

You fight the urge to thank him again, for making you feel so comfortable, for making you forget about stuff, for reminding you how much you love singing, for being here with you. There is a lot you want to thank him for, but you decide not to for now. For now, you'll just settle on kissing him until you're sure he knows exactly what you're thinking.

It doesn't feel like the first date anymore as you eat, sharing giggles over the dinner. You can't explain it well, but being around him makes you feel like you've known him for years. It's easy with him, just like you always thought it was meant to be. "What's the plan after this?" You wonder, interrupting the song he is in the middle of right now. He finished eating just a few minutes back, picking up the mic right away.

He glances at you, forgetting all about the right lyrics and answering you instead. "Whatever you'd like to do. I'm open to anything. Unless you want to feed me to the sharks," he grins.

You think for a moment, your eyes flickering from his lips to his eyes, wondering where the line lies in his head. "We could watch a movie or something?" You suggest nervously.

He brings the mic to his lips, not hesitating in the slightest as he loudly sings, "Yes. Let's do that," into it.

You let him hold your hand again as you walk through the busy streets, following him to his apartment. When you suggested watching a movie, there was a lot more on your mind than just a piece of some filmography, wondering if he'd take you home with him. And now that that's exactly where you're headed, you're rethinking yourself more and more. Because while you want nothing more than to kiss him all night long, you have no idea what's going on in his head.

Seokmin's place is exactly like one might expect; clean, organized, filled with only necessities and his hobbies. There are traces of music everywhere you look, and you could not love it more. Taking off your shoes, you follow him into his living room, taking a seat on his couch while he disappears into the kitchen to fetch you something to drink. You take your time looking around, taking in the sight of his apartment.

You make yourself comfortable on the couch, waiting for him to join you. He comes back with not only a drink for the both of you but also a bag of chips, placing it all on his coffee table before taking a seat beside you. You look over at his, your expression a mix of nervousness and joy. He meets your gaze curiously, waiting for you to say what's on your mind. "What if I'd like to kiss you again?"

His smile grows. "Then I'd tell you to get here," he motions with his head for you to move and you do, allowing him to pull you into his lap. Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you take your time looking at his face. He brushes your hair behind your ears, cupping your face gently as he leans forward and kisses you.

With one of his hands on your cheek, he grips your waist with the other, keeping you close. You ran your fingers through his hair, causing a groan to escape his lips. You feel the sound in every inch of your body, moaning into his lips yourself. You're quick to close your lips shut after, refusing to open your eyes and look at him. "Come on, pretty," he kisses the corner of your lips, and you're not sure if it was on purpose or if he missed. "Give me another one of those sounds."

You shake your head, keeping it in. Slowly opening your eyes, you find him already looking at you, his eyes full of the need and desperation you feel deep as well. "Please," he nudges your nose with his, his lips hovering over yours. "Let me hear more of you." A whine leaves past your lips as you feel him grow hard under you, the boner in his pants showing you had nothing to worry about when you thought he'd find you weird for wanting him so much already.

Sliding his hand under your shirt, he presses his palm against your hot skin, staying in place until you tell him otherwise. "Tell me what you want, hm? Where do we go from here?"

You think about it, unable to voice what you want out loud like he wants you to. Instead, you slide your hand under his shirt, feeling his abs tense under your fingertips. You trace his body, feeling his chest and then shoulders, keeping your eyes on the skin you're exposing. He let's you watch, let's you take his shirt off, and even let's you rock your hips forward on top of him. He doesn't do anything, though, waiting for you to answer like he asked.

"Min," you plead, itching for more.

"What do you need, princess?" The nicknames makes you bite your bottom lip as you glide your hips forward again, his clothed cock pressed against your core. "Do you want me to do something?" You nod, desperate. "Use your words. I want to hear you."

"Touch me, please," you beg, his smile showing that's exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Where?"

"Anywhere," you sigh.

It doesn't seem to satisfy him enough, but he he moves for now, sliding his hand up until he cups your breast. He works your shirt over your head, groaning at the sight of you in your bra. A lacy white fabric covers your breast, and as much as he knows you probably didn't wear it with the intend of him seeing it tonight, the possibility of it being true after all gets him so much more worked up. "Will the bottom match?" He trails his fingers down your skin until they land on the zipper of your pants, looking up at you.

You bite onto your bottom lip in an attempt to steady yourself, nodding. "I didn't— I didn't plan for us to end up like this—" you try to excuse, knowing exactly how it looks like. God, what will he think of you now?

"Fucking hell," he curses, a low sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "You're so beautiful. All for me, hm?" You nod again, unable to think much about it. You're certain you'd say yes to anything right now if it means he gets his hands on you again.

Gripping your waist, he helps you roll your hips over him. You don't hesitate, leaning down to kiss him again. Feeling his muscles as you kiss him, you keep riding him, chasing after the pleasure you so desperately need. "Tell me what you're thinking about," he prompts, another whine leaving your lips upon losing the feeling of his lips on yours. "Please, talk to me."

"About how much I want this off," you tug at the hem of his pants. "And this," you do the same with yours.

He nods, "I can take care of that."

"Please."

"I'm also going to change the setting, okay?"

You nod, not questioning him in the slightest. Standing up from the couch, he grips your ass, carrying you into a different room. You wrap your legs and arms around him as quickly as you can, resting your head on his shoulder. Seokmin takes you to his room with ease, only letting you go once he is standing in front of his bed.

"I'm sorry but I don't think we're going to watch a movie anymore."

"I never wanted to watch one anyway," you shake your head and his soft smile gets replaced by a teasing smirk.

"Oh? Is that so?"

You feel your cheeks redden under his gaze, moving back on the bed until you hit the headboard. He climbs in after you, catching your ankles to pull you back to him. You yelp, but don't do anything to get from him again, getting lost in his eyes as he hovers over you. Shirtless, horny, and looking like he is absolutely gone for you—do they even get any better?

"I'm pretty sure I've liked you for the past three years, so I'm good at waiting. We don't have to do anything tonight," he assures you, just in case you'd have any doubts. "Or we could only do some things," his eyes trail down your body, his fingers coming to circle your clothed core. "I could just take care of you."

"You're pretty sure you've liked me?" There is a smile on your face as you repeat his words, watching as he scoffs in embarrassement, his red ears giving him away.

"That's the thing you decide to focus on?" You nod and he shakes his head. "I need you to tell me how far you want to go today."

"All you want me to do is talk, talk, talk," you roll your eyes before wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him flush against you. "I want to feel you inside me, Min. I want to come on your cock."

He groans as soon as you finish the sentence, thrusting his hips against you. Your lips part, which he immediately takes advantage of, stealing another kiss. You wrap yours hands behind his neck, playing with his hair as he works your pants down, not hesitating anymore. You don't stop kissing him until all your clothes are off—or at least as off as he can get them without pulling away.

Throwing them aside, he takes a moment to admire your naked body, eyes scanning every inch of your skin, memorizing it. You feel nervous, especially when he locks his eyes with your wet pussy, licking his lips at the sight. It's hot, he's hot.

Undoing his jeans as well, he gets rid of the last piece of clothing in the way, and you instantly let your eyes fall to his bare legs. You do the same as he just did, taking your time with memorizing every inch of him. Not only does he have a handsome face, his build is equally hot.

"Get here already," the command is laced with the need you feel, causing him to chuckle as he joins you again. You don't hesitate, wrapping your hand around the length of his cock as soon as he's in your reach. "I need you in."

"Keep talking and I'll come before even getting to it," he groans. "I love your voice."

"Yeah?" You tilt your head prettily, loving how desperate he looks between your legs with your hand on him. "Is that why you want me to talk so much?"

"Yes," he nods without giving it a second though. You slide your hand over his tip and he whimpers. This man fucking whimpers. Your eyes widen at the sound, your pussy clenching around nothing. There is no way you're coming back from this now, from knowing how he sounds when he is completely and utterly gone.

He pushes your legs up to your chest and you let go off him just to hold them up, watching him as he reaches for a condom and rolls it over his length. He doesn't give you what you want right away, though. Your eyes flicker over him confusedly as he doesn't move, begging him to do something. "Don't worry, pretty. I got you," he assures you, his eyes locked on your pussy.

You figure what he meant as he spreads your folds with his fingers, collecting your wetness before dipping two of his fingers in. A whine leaves past your lips as you watch him. It's crazy how good he makes you feel with just his fingers, spreading you open for him. "Min," you plead. "More."

"Don't you want to come once before?"

You shake your head quickly, not caring about that. "With you. I want to come with you."

He doesn't need to be told twice, pulling out his fingers and bringing them to his lips to taste you. You miss his fingers already, a disapproving whine escaping you. He moans at the taste of you, giving his cock a few pumps before aligning himself with your pussy.

Thrusting into you with ease, he leans down and wraps your legs around his waist instead, connecting his lips with yours again. You kiss him back, scratching his back gently as he starts to move. Digging your heels into his lower back, you keep him as close as possible, the way he makes you feel so full making your head spin.

His moves are slow and steady at first, but as soon as you moan into his ear, asking for more, he shifts his pace to suit your needs. You melt together completely, mixture of your and his moans filling the room. It's lewd, the sounds you let out, but you can't care less right now. All you care about is satisfying your urges.

He rubs your clit with his thumb, helping you get where you need. You feel every one of his veins inside, your walls clenching tightly around his length. For a second, you wonder if there is anything this man is not absolutely amazing at. Not only is a an awesome singer with a great face, full of kindness, he's also incredible at fucking you in the exact way you want him to.

"Almost there," you gasp, your mouth hanging open. Your breathes mix together due to how close you are to one another.

He nods, looking down at your connected bodies. "Me too. Just a bit more, yeah?" You nod frantically, rolling your hips forward in response. He curses under his breath, pinching your clit. Your legs shake around him as you reach your high, his name falling off your lips like a prayer.

He's right behind you, burying his head in your breast as he fills the condom, slowly thrusting into you even after to let you both ride it out. "Thank you," you breathe out, exhausted.

"Anytime," he chuckles, the easy smile you're learning to love spreading on his lips.

♡⸝⸝♡⸝⸝

The sound of your phone blowing up stirs you awake in the morning. You open your eyes with much more effort than you're used to, remembering where you are once you see the room. Prompting yourself up, you search for Seokmin with your eyes. He's nowhere to be found, but judging by how warm the side of the bed he slept in still is, you're assuming it's not long since he woke up as well.

After showing together last night, and getting one more orgasm out, you fell asleep in his shirt and boxers, cuddled up in his arms. It felt amazing to be held like that, dreams coming easier than ever before.

Remembering why your sleep was interrupted, you reach for your phone on his nightstand. Thankfully, you brought it over here before going to bed last night, otherwise it'd be going off in the living room where you originally left it.

There are messages from both Chan and your sister, but the one that catches your attention the most is from your boss. Jennie doesn't text you much unless it's important. Opening the chat with her, you find a link attached with a simple question: 'That's you, isn't it?'

Before you can think properly, realize what you're watching, you're rushing out of the bed, searching for Seokmin. "Good morning," he smiles at you warmly, a plate filled with scrambled eggs and bread in his hands, a matching one lying in front of him on the counter. He opens his mouth, probably to explain he made breakfast for the two of you, but closes it again when he sees your face—your eyes wide, clearly panicked and distressed. "Is everything okay?"

You shake your head, unable to look away from him as you grip your phone in your hands. "Why did you— Why did you post that?" Despite trying your hardest not to, your voice stutters, partly from the betrayal you feel and partly because what the fuck? Why would he do that to himself?

His brows furrow, confusion written all over him. Not because he wouldn't know what you're talking about, he knows exactly what post you're referring to, but no matter how hard he tries to, he can't seem to understand why you're so upset, why you're looking at him like he just pointed the gun at you.

"What— Let's sit down, pretty, okay? Let's talk about what's bothering you. Tell me what goes in that head of yours." He places the plate in his hands down, not hesitating to cross the room and get into your space.

"You need to delete it," you state quickly, not stepping away from him but also not inching forward. "You—" You frown when you see the look in his eyes. "How does none of this bother you? Have you even checked to see what people are saying? How your followers count changed? What this can do to BSS? The guys or—"

He doesn't let you go into a spiral like you'd like to, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into him. "I didn't check because I don't care," he whispers into your hair. You hesitate about hugging him back, carefully wrapping your arms around his sides when he doesn't let go off you. "I wanted everyone to hear how great you sound, so I shared it."

"I care though," you complain. "You need to delete it." He shakes his head against you, but doesn't verbally argue again. "This is going to be bad for your image."

"I don't care," he repeats. "Let it be bad for me if it's good for you. Let the world hear your voice, it's beautiful." You take a step back, looking up at him and shaking your head. "I've known this ever since the day I first heard you, and they should all know it too. Who cares if some people don't like me because they're insecure I might have a girlfriend and they don't—which I'm not labeling you as, I swear. I'll need a date or two before I ask you for that title." His rush makes you chuckle, but it doesn't help how you feel about the situation.

You gave up on music when you were still a child because of this exact reason, because you let people hear you sing. You don't want to hate music again. You're desperate to not let it come to it, and the only way you see possible is to convince him to delete the video off his feet and pray no one saw it. You can only see the laughs, the faces of your childhood friends, or what you thought they were, as they laughed at you for having a passion, as they made sure you wouldn't dream about something so stupid again.

It's not only that, though. As much as you're scared for yourself, you're scared for him. For him losing his passion, his love for music, all because he decided to post a video of you singing on his account, thinking it would be good for you.

This can't be good for either of you. You're convinced.

"You need to delete it," you beg again.

He doesn't acknowledge your comment, simply smiling at you. "Let's have breakfast together, hm?"

Sitting on his couch, your knees pulled to your chest, and an almost empty plate in your hands, you bring it up again. "Seokmin, I'm serious. I need you to delete the video. Now."

He sets his empty plate on the table, turning to face you in his seat. "If that's what you really want me to do, then I will. But please, tell me you don't want me to just because you think it's going to hurt my image or anything like that. I'm also serious, and I think you deserve all the love in the world. I think you deserve for your voice to be heard and appreciated by not only me, but everyone else as well."

You swallow as you look at him, letting your gaze fall down to your legs. How do you explain to a man as perfect as him that, even though it's been ages, you're haunted by the memory of your peers making fun of you for the exact same reason he now wants them to appreciate you. How do you tell him that you fear other people's opinions more than anything else in the world, and have no idea how to move without letting it consume you?

"I could get fired," you whisper. "For being with you. Crossing the line." You're not sure if Jennie would actually fire you for this, but you can't cross the option out. It's not only you who depends on people's views, it's also the radio, Chan, and Seokmin's group too, no matter how much he says he doesn't care. "It's not professional."

He moves closer to you, cupping your face so you'd look at him. "We could figure that out together. I could help, if you'd let me," he tries to hard to find a solution for you, to show you how much he wants to keep the video out there, to have you out there. "You don't always have to do the right thing. The professional thing. The grown up thing."

You frown, because you're pretty sure you do. You need to be perfect to save yourself from those disgusted looks again. "It's okay to be selfish sometimes. It's okay to chase after things you want, even if it means being immature." Your eyes soften instantly, because you're sure you heard similar words before. From Chan. When he first found out you love music like he does, and that you can produce it even though you keep from it, he said something along the lines as well. He didn't know anything about why you were so keen on not being involved with music so much, still doesn't, but he probably had an idea unlike Seokmin, who is trying his hardest to assure you it's okay to want this without even knowing what it is that bothers you deep down.

"Do you know how many times I've been called a child?" You don't answer, letting him continue. "If you let me help, I promise I'll take care of everything that worries you. I'll make sure nothing happens to BSS or your radio show, that you can stay with Chan and do what you love. And if it's what you want, then I'll also love to help you purse this career, because I truly believe you should. I think you should sing, if that'd be something you'd enjoy."

"It would," you admit quietly and his smile grows wider. "It always has been."

"Okay," he nods, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle, tender, kiss. "Then let's do something about that, hm?"

♡⸝⸝♡⸝⸝

If someone told you weeks ago that you'd be in the recording studio with Woozi and your boyfriend on the other side of the glass, you would have laughed in their face.

You're not sure if the fact Woozi is helping you produce this song or the fact you get to call Seokmin your boyfriend that is more unbelievable right now.

You let him keep the video of you singing at karaoke up, deciding to face your fear and see what would happen if people heard you sing. To your surprise, except for the few people hating simply for the fact you were suddenly on their artists' feed, others were supportive of you getting into the music industry. Fans who already knew your from the broadcast were amazed when they heard you sing, and the rest were immediately asking for your social to see more of you.

You couldn't have been happier at the moment.

"Let's go from the top again," Woozi tells you and you nod, glancing briefly at Seokmin, who wears the proudest smile on his face as he watches you record your own song.

It's a dream come true, really.

You called Jennie as soon as you decided to trust Seokmin and believe it'd be possible to pursue this, asking her if she's mad at you and needs you to take the video down anyways. She laughed into your ear before assuring you that's not why she texted you. She explained how she looked at you at the studio as soon as the video reached her, wanting to question you for not telling her you have such talent way sooner, only to find a giddy Chan in the room. He took his time talking about all the times you spend writing lyrics with him and helping him produce his songs, praising you to her just like he always did.

Both Seokmin and her decided to call a few people that day, trying to make sure it doesn't cause any damage to him or BSS as you worried, and also to see if there's a way to get you into a studio.

Which eventually happened. It happened.

"Great work today," Jihoon praises you with a smile. Your cheeks flush, but before you can thank him, Seokmin steps into your vision, opening his arms for you. You gladly steps into them, offering him a kiss.

"The best," he praises. "My pretty girl who can just do about anything."

You shake your head at him, wondering what you did to deserve all this. "Thank you," you whisper so only he can hear, stepping away again to look at your favorite producer. "Thank you for helping me so much. I hope I don't leave you disappointed with the result."

Jihoon shakes his head. "You have a great voice, and we all know it. You won't disappoint me or anyone else for the matter. Just keep chasing."

Yeah, you'll do just that.

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[rosequartz-archive]

Pairing ✨ Prince Dokyeom x Female OC

Synopsis ✨ You've been stuck in this damn castle for years, the best friend of the Princess. But when a suitable(ish) gentleman finally asks for your hand in marriage, her brother stops you. You've always hated each other, so why is he stopping you leaving?!

Genre ✨ Enemies to Lovers, fantasy au, angst, fluff, smut

Warnings ✨ angst, OC is called a slut (not in a hot way), violence (a sort of sword fight), old fashioned views on marriage, misogynistic language (not Seokmin), OC and Seokmin are both inexperienced, unprotected sex (it is the medieval times), oral m. recieving, face fucking, slight nipple play, p in v sex, cream pie, angst with a happy ending

Word Count ✨ 11k

a/n ✨ I have LOVED writing this and it took everything in me to keep it at 11k, but I hope you love Prince Seokmin as much as I do.! (:

Jeonghan's story in this universe

It's only when you stop to think about your life, living in a castle, best friend to the Princess of the Kingdom that you come to realise..... Life is still shit.

Yes, you eat well, dress well, learn to read, write and dance (luxuries not afforded to many girls), spend your days embroidering flowers you can't stand. But with all that, comes one thing that always dampens your mood.

Seokmin.

The Prince and heir to the throne. That is if they manage to find a thrown large enough to take the weight of his enormous head.

To the rest of the land, he was Prince charming. He gave to the elderly, donated gold to help the orphan children, he even gives the wild boar a royal pardon when he's been hunting. Such is the kindness of the great Prince Seokmin.

But to you, he is a shit of the highest order of shittery.

For years he's spent his time pulling your hair, constantly asking you what you were reading and then hiding the book so you can't finish it, poking you, telling everyone you still sleep with the candle burning because you're scared of the dark. Anything he could do to make your life that bit harder, he did it.

And he enjoyed it. When he becomes King, it wouldn't surprise you if he decided to get you a funny hat and make you his court jester.

That's why today, your life is going to change for the better.

Your parents had been best friends of the King and Queen since you were born and when you were 10, they sent you to live with them. Deciding that staying in your humble abode (still a ten-bedroom castle, but smaller than the Royal Castle by some margins) wasn't an option, they said you needed variety, a chance to become a proper lady.

And what does a proper lady need? A proper gentleman. So today, that's who you're meeting.

Lord Eghart, from a foreign land you can't remember the name of. But apparently, they have the finest silks in the world and excellent cakes covered in syrup, so you really don't care where he's from.

You're sat waiting in the rose garden, one of your favourite spots to sit and read. The smells fill your senses and it's usually quiet, standing some way from the castle, more towards the woods.

Heavy footsteps sound on the small stones that line the paths and you take a deep breath to steady yourself. It's a big thing, meeting your husband to be for the first time!

You pretend to keep reading your book. Your tutor had told you years ago to always remain demure. And once you'd managed to find out what that meant, you made it your mission to try and behave like the perfect lady. Most of the time. Sort of.

"Lady _____?"

Your heart pounds in your chest, he sounds kind. His voice soft and gentle as he says your name.

You raise your eyes slowly, trying to add some allure to them so as to entice your new fiancé.

Your eyes meet. And fuck he's......dreadful.

Your parents said he was 32?! So then why does this man in front of you, look about 62?! He's bald, except for one small clump of hair in the middle of his head and his two front teeth are missing.

They told the truth in one respect. Wherever he's from certainly does have the finest silks, if his clothes are anything to go by. But why he's decided to wear every colour of them, in one go, is beyond you.

"Lady _____?"

Shit. You're just sat staring. He might be odd but he's still a lord.

"Yes!" You shoot to your feet, book falling to the floor, "Nice to meet you, my lord."

You dip into your deepest curtsy. Mainly to show your respect but also to pick up your book off the floor, in the most lady like way you can in these awful corsets.

"Shall we take a walk, my dear?"

You try not swat the man right on his bald head with your book, for calling you dear. But you agree none the less, he is your betrothed after all.

"How was it?"

Your best friend is sitting by the fire in the library when you come back from your torture walk. Your silk skirts swish as you stomp, mind fogged with anger at this clear betrayal from your parents.

In the time you've spent with him you've learnt that, as he's missing so many teeth, Lord Eghart has seen fit to lose any modicum of dental hygiene. He only cares about his horses and his pet crocodile he was given by an Emperor of a land, even further away than his. He only eats rabbit meat. And he likes to decide what you will eat. To that, you almost made your tongue bleed from biting it, wanting to tell him where he could shove his damn crocodile. But knowing a lady must smile and nod.

"He's horrible. An ogre would have been more suitable." You throw yourself in the chair, skirts rising and falling as you do.

"You'd be well suited then."

Seokmin. If you'd have known he was in here, you'd have told his sister all the gossip later, after dinner. You don't need him laughing at you.

So, you choose to ignore him. Stare at the fire wondering how long it would take you to run away from here and back to your parents.

"He can't have been that bad _____. You're 29 now anyway, surely anyone is better than no-one."

You hate that. Just because you're 29 doesn't mean you need to marry. Seokmin is 29. He isn't being forced to get married yet. But then men don't have to bear children, the only thing people these days think women are good for.

"He was missing his front teeth, told me he'd be deciding my meals and is bald. Not to mention hideous."

You note Dahye, your supposed best friend, is biting her lips trying not to laugh. It's alright for her, she married Jeonghan years ago and has been happily popping out babies for years. And what sickens you is that they're still besotted with each other.

"Yet another man you've scared away." Seokmin sighs, revelling in your misery as he sits on the bench that runs around the fire.

"I haven't scared him away," you snarl. "I've got a week left here, whilst he does business with your parents, and then I'm gone. Married to someone who'll make me eat rabbits or no doubt feed me to his crocodile."

"His crocodile?!"

You can't help but chuckle at Dahye's face. She looks horrified at the very idea of someone owning such a vicious pet.

"You're leaving?!"

You both turn to look at Seokmin, who's now standing imposingly in front of the fire.

"Yes. In a week. I'm sure you'd like me to hurry it up, but you'll have to take that up with your parents, the King and Queen."

"But you just said how dreadful he was. You always say no when you don't like them. You never like them."

"We can't all be Princes and do as we please. I have to marry him, my parents have arranged it."

"Then say no."

"Did you not hear what I just said Prince Big Head?"

"Better than being Lady.... Lady.... Fuck never mind."

He struts off out of the library, leather boots making a loud thudding noise on the stone floor, as you and Dahye smirk at each. You presume she's smirking because you've managed to outsmart her brother, yet again. But what you don't realise, is that Dahye is smirking because she knows this little turn of events may be the one thing that will finally push her brother into actually telling you he loves you.

You hate breakfast. It's the one meal a day where you have to eat with the whole family. And now that sadly, because he's a guest, includes Lord Eghart.

Your body stiffens as he enters the room. There being two free chairs and knowing he'll be making his seedy way over to you. But just as he spots you, you feel woosh of air and someone lands next to you.

"What are you doing?" You murmur to a disinterested Seokmin.

"Sitting at the table to eat my eggs. Is that a crime?"

"No. But I think I'm meant to sit next to Lord Eghart."

"Then he can ask me to move. It's not like I want to sit next to you and have to smell your foul perfume anyway."

You frown at him, well more the side of his face, you never asked him to sit there. He could have sat at the other free chair across the table from you. And he knows Lord Eghart would never ask a Prince to move from his seat.

"Good morning my dear."

Your mouth opens as the Lord takes his seat, a little put out at his placement around the table.

"Good morning." Seokmin replies.

You, his parents, Dahye and Jeonghan give him a confused look.

"O-oh," Lord Eghart stutters, "I meant my d-dear Lady _____."

Seokmin looks at him, or more specifically through him.

"Oh," he hums, "I presumed, as you'd greeted my parents, the King and Queen, you were following the correct order of things. And addressing your superiors in order and thus, calling me, my dear." He points his fork to himself before taking a bite, looking at Lord Eghart, almost daring him to look away.

Seokmin had never enforced his power and hierarchy on anyone. He'd never even stopped you answering him back. For him to be this way, is completely out of the ordinary.

“Seokmin!” His mother scolds, before turning to Lord Eghart, “I am sorry, he’s normally very amenable.”

“No, he’s right!” Lord Eghart recovers quickly, “The order of things is there for a reason, apologies everyone.”

You all send him a half-assed smile and turn your attention back to your lunch.

The Queen and Dahye send each other knowing looks, Jeonghan spotting it straight away and looking more than baffled by this weird new form of mind reading that he’s clearly not privy to. You, on the other hand, push eggs round your plate, staring at the man you are about to marry. How has it come to this? Married to an old man, in a place you won’t know, without your friends or your books. Your parents seem far away now, and they’re only a two-day horse ride away. Now you’ll be a three-week boat journey away. You’ll probably never seem them again. Never see Seokmin again. You might revel in annoying him but in a weird way, you love him.

Shit. You love Seokmin.

Your fork drops to the gold plate in front of you, causing everyone to jump, you included.

“S-sorry! Just got a little distracted, I didn’t sleep well.”

“This is why when we arrive home, my dear, you’ll follow a strict bedtime. 8pm sharp and then 9pm to sleep.”

You try not to grimace at the leering smile he sends you. An hour? An hour in bed with him. Fuck, thank god you didn’t eat your eggs, they’d surely be back on your plate by now.

“And then early to rise in the morning, a nice bowl of salted porridge and then you’ll be off into your quarters for the day.”

The whole family look at him in horror. The King looks ready to send him to the gallows.

“Sounds lovely.” You murmur before returning to moving your eggs around your plate.

You’re in no position to piss him off. But what you wouldn’t give to throw your gold plate at him.

“I think I’m going to head for a walk, if that’s ok with your majesties?” You turn to the King and Queen who are still sharing horrified looks with Dahye and Jeonghan about Lord Eghart. Seokmin is simply sat, leaning back in his chair, arms folded and looking off into the distance.

“Of course, _____.” The King averts his eyes to you, sending you the kindest smile he can muster at the moment, “Fresh air will wake you up!”

You nod and smile but make quick work of leaving the table. You curtsey as you leave, making sure to also repeat the gesture to Lord Eghart, ignoring the way his eyes only look at your breasts as you dip into it.

The silence at the table is palpable.

“Let me show you my hounds Lord Eghart.”

“O-oh. I haven’t managed to eat anything yet my Prince.”

Seokmin doesn’t care, he stands and walks off, knowing that Lord Eghart will be left with no choice but to follow him.

The others watch as Lord Eghart waddles after Seokmin, like the sniffling creature he is.

“Father, she cannot marry him! She’s my dearest friend! You’ve always said she’s like a daughter to you!”

“And she is! But she’s 29, way past the age of most young ladies looking for a suiter, and she’s said no to everyone else! Her father cried to me when he told me of the match, but what are we to do!”

“But he’s going to control what she eats, when she sleeps, locking her in a room all day! And I do not even want to imagine what will happen in that hour between going to bed and sleeping!”

“I agree with Dahye,” the Queen nods, “this is too much. Her mother must be beside herself with worry! Hell, I’m not even her mother and I am bordering on tears!”

“I know my opinion doesn’t go for much, not since I had the idea about painting the horse’s manes,” the King rolls his eyes at Jeonghan, remembering the chaos of the last jousting tournament where the horses looked more like mythical beasts than noble stallions. “But are we not missing the very obvious fact, that I’ve literally just thought of?”

“Which is?”

“Seokmin. He could marry _____.” He looks around his family, “What?! Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Do you not think we’ve thought about that. He’s loved her since they were children. And vice versa.”

“WHAT?!”

“You’re a very stupid man at times Jeonghan,” the King shakes his head.

“Why did no-one tell me?!”

“You’ve lived in this castle since your eighteenth birthday! And it’s taken you this long to see it?!”

“I’m just saying, someone could have told me.” Jeonghan pouts, his wife soothing him with a hand on his back. “Surely then, there’s the answer.”

“Neither of them will admit it.” The Queen sighs, throwing her linen napkin on her plate in defeat.

“You’re the King and Queen, can’t you just tell them?”

“They need to see it on their own. I always thought they would. Now it’s too late.”

“I don’t know,” Dahye smirks, all of them snapping their eyes to her, “he was so angry yesterday, I have a suspicion that this may just have been the thing that makes him do something.”

“Feed Lord Eghart to his hounds judging by how fast he marched him out of here.”

“That’s not a bad idea Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan smiles proudly, having finally, after twelve years of being his son-in-law, given the King a good idea.

“Would her parents be angry though? If the engagement to Lord Eghart were to be broken?”

“Her parents would dance in the town square and give all their servants the week off, in celebration of that engagement being broken.”

“Then let's all hope Seokmin does something.”

After your walk, you’d spent most of the day packing your belongings. Four ornately carved trunks stood piled high in the corner of the room, only keeping the essentials left to pack the closer your impending doom got.

Things may have gone a little quicker if every little thing didn't remind you of what you were leaving behind. A small fox carved from wood by the King himself on your twentieth birthday lay next to the tapestry the Queen and your mother had created together one summer. And next to both of those was a flower crown you'd made with Dahye, which you'd dried and kept in a small diary. All little bits of your life that you felt were insignificant, now only made tears well in your eyes each time you saw them.

You sit on the bench near the window, overlooking the gardens, noting it's been oddly quiet in the castle all day. You'd have thought Lord Eghart would have been to find you at some point, even Dahye perhaps, but no-one had ventured to find you all day.

It's only when you're pondering whether to take another walk to fill in the dreariness of the day, that you hear hurried footsteps in the hall way.

Before you can even make it to the threshold, a frantic Jeonghan bursts through the wooden door.

"_____, hurry up! And bring everything you need, Lord Eghart says you're to go with him now!"

"W-what??! I can't go now! I haven't said goodbye, I haven't......"

"Just hurry! His servant will come up to get your trunks!"

He runs off before you can even garner any sort of explanation from him, so you've no choice but to follow him. You get your cloak, sparing the room you love so much one last glance, trying to be brave and not shed any tears, before leaving your old life behind to rush after Jeonghan.

You descend the stone stairs, entering the great hall to say goodbye to the King and Queen and thank them for everything they've done for you. But what you find, shocks you beyond words.

The King and Queen appear the be huddled in the corner talking about something frantically, whilst Dahye tries to talk to Seokmin. You're not sure you've ever seen him looking so angry, his cheeks flushed, breathing ragged and paying little attention to what his sister is saying to him.

You don't even get a chance to speak before your arm is grabbed and you're being dragged roughly towards the large double doors, that lead out of the great hall.

"What are you doing?!" You can't help but scream, not expecting to be dragged in such a manner, Lord Eghart's fingers bruise your skin as he tries to pull you along with him.

"WE ARE LEAVING THIS GOD FORSAKEN CASTLE. YOU ARE TO BE MY WIFE AND I WILL NOT BE DISRESPECTED LIKE THIS."

Just then another hand grabs your other arm and pulls you towards them, and somehow they manage to break you free from Lord Eghart. Or rather his releases your arm without a fight.

The sound of metal sliding on metal slices through the air and you spin to find Seokmin baring his sword at Lord Eghart.

"She is to be my wife! You have done quite enough for one day, I will not stop without taking what is mine!"

"What is yours?"

Seokmin says it calmly. Too calmly. Slowly circling Lord Eghart who's fumbling to get his own sword out.

"Yes, what is mine," he spits, getting his feeble excuse for a sword out of its sheath, "I have arrangements with her parents. She is mine. She belongs to me."

"You see," Seokmin pretends to lunge forward with his sword making Lord Eghart stumble back slightly, "I've known _____ for many years. Too many years, some might say. And I know, she cannot belong to anyone. Certainly not some idiot who cannot find his way out of a room on his own."

Even the King looks apprehensive to interrupt whatever the hell is going on here. What has made Lord Eghart react like this? Yes. He isn't pleasant. But you didn't think he could be so cruel as to manhandle you the way he just has been doing.

"FIND MY WAY OUT OF A ROOM?! YOU CALL LOCKING SOMEONE IN A DUNGEON AND ATTACHING THE KEY TO ONE OF YOUR HOUNDS, NOT BEING ABLE TO GET OUT OF A ROOM?!"

Well, that would do it.

Seokmin locked him in a dungeon? What is he thinking?! Why is he acting like this at all, he hates you, surely, he wants you gone. You'd have thought he found it quite entertaining that you were being married off to such a man.

"The door closed of its own accord." Seokmin shrugs. "How was I to know that you weren't still walking behind me?"

Another lunge and Lord Eghart falls to the ground.

"Son, that is enough. Let them go."

The King rushes towards him whilst the Queen rushes to you and Dahye, arms wrapping around you both to keep you close.

"Father did you not see the way he hurt her?!"

You appreciate Dahye trying to help but it seems Lord Eghart has been disrespected. And so now you're going to face the consequences, as his wife to be.

"I will do what I like to her!!!"

He barely gets chance to finish his sentence before Seokmin kicks him to the ground, kneeling over him with his sword to his throat.

"You will do no such thing, you will turn around, mount your horse and fuck off back to whatever hole you crawled out of."

Seokmin's voice is laced with venom, angling the sword a little so it nearly cuts the skin.

"I will..... I will not." He gasps for breath. "I will have what's mine."

"SHE IS NOT YOURS."

Seokmin's scream silences the whole hall. Jeonghan turning to look at him, in astonishment, alongside the King. The queen holding you and Dahye that bit closer.

Your heart feels like it may break out of your chest.

"You will leave. You will leave on your own and you will never return to this land. If you do, I will make sure that everyone knows that not only are you abusive, but you are a thief."

Panic flashes in Lord Eghart's eyes, the King turning to his son.

"What do you mean?"

"Lord Egg-head here has a trunk full of gold that he didn't arrive with. So not only was he taking my _____, but he was also taking your gold, father."

Did you hear that right? Nobody else has reacted at all, too stunned about the gold. His _____. Seokmin's _____. You can feel your heartbeat in your feet it's hammering that strongly.

Seokmin's _____.

You don't know whether to laugh or cry. Lord Eghart calling you his made you want to vomit, but Seokmin? You know he doesn't truly mean he owns you, just that you're his.

And you suppose you always have been.

You've both always been each other’s.

All those years he's let you get away with speaking to him like he was a stableboy rather than a Prince. And he's made your life hell but in a way that you couldn't live without it.

"I'll go!"

"Oh, nooow you'll leave?" Seokmin smirks, angling the sword perilously close to Lord Eghart's jugular. "And _____?"

"The slut can stay here."

The sword is thrown to the side and about two seconds later a loud crack rings around the room. You've never heard a bone break before, you're not sure it's a sound you ever want to hear again. But the fact it's Lord Eghart's bones that have broken does bring you some satisfaction.

Jeonghan and the King pull Seokmin off the Lord before he breaks something more than his nose.

"YOU EVER UTTER ANOTHER WORD LIKE THAT AGAIN, ABOUT HER, AND I WILL CUT EACH FINGER OFF YOU AND FEED THEM TO MY HOUNDS."

Jeonghan is wrestling with Seokmin, trying to stop him from getting any closer to Lord Eghart.

"Knights!!" The King only has to speak once before ten knights enter the room at speed. "Arrest him, put him back where my son had him earlier today. He'll be tried and then the Lords of the Land can decide what happens to him."

"You can't do that! My people will rebel!" Lord Eghart splutters out as two knights drag him to his feet.

"Your people will be glad to see the back of you. You forget, my brother is husband to your Queen. I know your reputation and I know your countrymen would be pleased if you never returned. I don't know who you bribed to get Lady _____'s hand in marriage but it ends now. You end now. Take him."

The King turns his back on Lord Eghart who's desperately trying to break free from the knights and quickly approaches you.

"I am sorry I ever let it get this far _____. You are free to stay here or go to your parents if you wish. I only beg your forgiveness for allowing any of this to happen."

You avert your eyes to the King, having never taken them off Seokmin.

"T-thank you, your majesty. I think...... I think I will tell you tomorrow. If that pleases you?"

"Anything my dear."

He looks around the room, seemingly trying to figure out what exactly should happen now, but catches his wife's eye.

You don't miss how she gestures to him, her daughter and son-in-law to leave the room with her. All of them realising what's happening. Except, of course, Jeonghan.

"Let’s go then!" The King tries to hurry them out of the room, looking between Seokmin, who's sitting against the wall, and yourself.

"But I'd quite like to know how he knew about the gold! Damn good luck he did, if you ask me, I need to order new leathers!"

"Come. On." The King grabs the back of Jeonghan's leather waist coat, both of them following the Queen and Dahye out of the hall.

Silence falls and Seokmin doesn't even spare you a glance. Just sits with his head in his hands against the finely decorated wall.

Worry overtakes you. Did you even hear what he said properly? There was so much happening, it's completely understandable you've made a mistake. Perhaps he meant our _____, you have lived here in the castle for some years now, all of them treating you no less than family.

"Are you just going to stand there?"

You jump a little at the sound of his voice.

"I didn't know if I should stay. Didn't know if I heard you right."

He looks at you, tears streaming down his cheeks and your heart cracks, much like Lord Eghart's nose.

You make your way over to sit with him. If you're his, he surely won't mind you sitting with him. You lower yourself to the ground, once again damning the day someone invented the fucking corset you're made to wear, day in day out.

"Why don't you just not wear one?"

Curse him for knowing you so well.

"Because I'm a lady and so I need to dress as such."

He peers at you out the corner of his eye, a sad smile on his face.

"I've seen you attack a turkey leg, you're not much of a lady."

You don't answer him. Instead, you reach into your dress pocket and pull out your embroidered handkerchief.

"Here."

"It's ok."

"Will you just take it. Please. I hate seeing you cry."

Seokmin takes it but not without a roll of his eyes. Stubborn idiot. Although you do feel your heart flutter a little when instead of giving it back to you, he places it in his own pocket.

"Did you mean what you said?"

"Does it matter if I did. You hate me. We hate each other."

"I don't hate you."

He looks at you sceptically.

"I think hate turned to love a long time ago."

The silence worries you. Have you said too much? Shown your hand too soon? He said you were his, he never mentioned anything of love.

"I've loved you since I was a boy. Just never knew how to tell you."

"Typical," you roll your eyes, playfully, "always have to do one better than me."

He just smiles, picking at a thread on his boots.

"How did you know about the gold?"

"I didn't. He just looked like a thief, and it turns out I was right."

You squint at him, thoroughly unconvinced of his mind reading skills.

"Some gold fell out of his pocket. Gold with our emblem on, not his own." He concedes.

"And why did you lock him in the dungeon?"

"I couldn't let a man like that take you. I couldn't let any man take you."

"Why?"

He turns to you, a look of loveable annoyance on his face.

"Why do you have to ask such ridiculous questions?! I've just said I love you and you persist in being irritating."

You can't help but grin at him, your heart fluttering wildly at yet another confession of love.

"I may love you. But I love annoying you more than anything."

He sighs, shaking his head that even now, you're the same irritating _____.

"I just.... I couldn't cope with the idea of you not being here. Every time a suitor came along before, you'd always said no. Now you were given no chance to say no, and I couldn't imagine a world without you in it. I don't even know why, I thought you'd just always be here. I'm my head it was always us here with my sister and Jeonghan, until our dying days."

You never imagined such honesty from him. He'd always been playful, but proud. Never wanting to show too much of himself. The fact he's sitting here with you now, telling you things you never thought you'd hear, makes your whole world shake.

"I never thought I'd leave either. I guess I thought we'd just bicker our way into a grave."

His laugh is like ecstasy in your veins, especially after the events that have just unfolded.

"What happens now?"

Why is he asking you?! He's the Prince.

"How am I meant to know?! I've never been in love before! Should we...."

"Outside of marriage?!"

"I was going to say court. Plan a wedding? But if your mind is heading straight to the sewers, I'll leave now!"

You pretend to get up, knowing full well you both know you're joking. Before he holds you arm to keep you next to him.

"Marriage sounds good."

Well, how very romantic.

You stare at him, disgust on your face.

"What?" He asks, defensively.

"That is how you propose? Like you're deciding between having goose or pheasant for your supper?"

"I literally locked a Lord in a dungeon for you!"

"I never asked you to! And that's hardly romantic either! Jeonghan lit three thousand candles to propose to your sister and quilted her a throw!"

"Jeonghan got servants to light those candles, spent two weeks apologising to them and offering to do their chores because they burnt their hands, and his mother quilted that throw."

"But he thought about it?" You say in horror. "You've just seen it as an afterthought!"

He glowers at you. You're not sure whether you want to jump on him or slap him as he launches himself to his feet.

"Right. Fine. Stand up."

"I'm not standing up for nothing, not in this corset. It had better be worth it Seokmin."

"You are an infuriating woman."

He holds his hand out for you, a silent promise that it will be worth it.

Your breath hitches when, as soon as you stand, he kneels to the ground on one knee, hand still holding yours.

He's silent for a moment, eyes taking you in like he can't believe this is finally happening.

"_____, since I was a boy, I have thought you to be the most intelligent, beautiful, most incredible woman I've ever met. You put up with my nonsense, challenge me in ways I didn't know I needed and make me excited to leave my bed chamber everyday, because I know I will get to spend the day with you. When I thought I'd lost you, when that man was going to take you away from us, I couldn't stand it. I have never felt fear like it and I never want to feel that way again. I never wish to be apart from you, nor wish to think about it. Will you please do me the honour, of being my wife?"

You hate him. You thought it was going to be a simple proposal, you weren't expecting all that.

"Can I take those tears as a yes?"

"Hm-mm," you nod, wiping your eyes.

He rushes to his feet, arms wrapping around you to spin your round in the air.

"I love you." He says once he places you on the floor, head pulling back to look at you.

"I love you too."

You can't believe you actually get to feel his hair under your fingers tips as you hold each other as close as you can.

"Can I?"

"I've never kissed anyone." Ladies aren't allowed to be alone with most men, let alone kiss them. "I don't want to do it wrong."

"I don't care, just let me finally feel your lips on mine."

His lips find yours, it's tentative, both of you clearly nervous but once the initial embarrassment subsides you find you like having his lips on yours. Seokmin deepens the kiss, hands pulling you impossibly closer to him by your waist. Your lips move with each like it's the most natural thing in the world, like it's what you should have been doing all along. You'd read about kissing in books, but never did you think it could feel like this, your whole body is on fire as he tongue enters your mouth, tongues dancing slowly as your fingers still play with his hair.

You've no idea how long you stand there, wrapped in each other senses, but it's only when Jeonghan enters the grand hall again that you finally pull away from each other.

"Sorry!" He covers his eyes, tripping slightly as he tries to move closer to you, "it's just we all sort of want to know what's happening and they sent me to find out. I'll go and tell them."

"No!" Jeonghan jumps slightly causing him to nearly fall to the ground. You rush forward to get him, holding his arm to steady him.

"Sorry."

"No, I didn't mean to shout, sorry Jeonghan. It's just, I'd like to tell them myself. For both of us to tell them ourselves."

Jeonghan's smile is wide, as though the kiss he saw wasn't quite confirmation enough.

"I'm so pleased for you!"

He hugs you both together in a bone crushing hug. Seokmin pats his back awkwardly as Jeonghan hums into the embrace that's going on just a bit too long at this point.

"Shall we go then?"

You can't help but giggle at Seokmin trying to hurry this up in the nicest way he can.

"Sure, sorry. Just I didn't know anything about this till this morning! They'd all known years apparently, could have told me."

His pout soon turns to wide eyed panic when he sees the looks on your faces. They'd always known?!

"Let’s go find them" Seokmin sighs, taking your hand.

You and Jeonghan share a smile at the gesture, whilst you desperately try to will yourself not to squeal and skip out the hall in happiness.

"Do you think the kitchens have any of that blackberry dessert wine left? My nerves are dangerously close to the edge."

"Probably Jeonghan." You soothe.

"Good, that's good. I've had a hell of day."

You smile knowingly at Seokmin who just rolls his eyes. Happy in the knowledge that you never have to leave this place and your family ever again.

"Why must he paint animals? What is wrong with his brain that his default thing to do for a grand occasion, is to paint animals?"

You can't help but fall into another fit of giggles at the memory of twelve gold swans marching around the grand hall, wreaking havoc wherever they went.

Your wedding day had been perfection. The ceremony had taken place in the gardens, the roses all being in full bloom and so as you uttered your vows to each other, the scent of roses filled your senses. You can't help but think that from now on, that scent will bring you straight back to that moment where you were finally his and he was finally yours.

It had taken two months to arrange everything, your parents had arrived two weeks ago to oversee the final arrangements. Both of your sets of parents were thrilled that they were, finally, truly family in every sense of the word. Your father's hunted for wild boars during the day whilst you all rushed around the castle making sure every little last thing was perfect.

The grand hall had been decorated to within an inch of its life. Gold silk was draped from every available point and green velvet covered the two thrones that stood beside the King and Queen’s. After the wedding ceremony, you were officially crowned Princess. You and Seokmin taking your seats beside the King and Queen, knowing one day it would be you two that took their place.

The Queen and your mother had gifted you a gold and emerald tiara, a gift you said was far too grand but wore proudly with your cream silk gown. Lavender, the flower of your home, and roses, the flower of Seokmin's, were embroidered onto the train and the emblem of your parent's house and the royal emblem where delicately added with gold thread.

Your maid had spent two hours ornately styling your hair to make sure it would withstand a day of dancing and drinking but still be strong enough to hold the tiara in place. The poor girl was so tired by the end of it, you let her have a nap in your bed chambers and found her a slice of the wedding cakes that had been made as test recipes.

After all the ceremonies, came the part you'd been looking forward to most. The feast and dancing. Six hogs had been roasted, hundreds of guests lined the wooden tables and mead and wine was a plenty. You sat at the top table with your loved ones and felt nothing but love as you looked around the room.

That is until Jeonghan's grand surprise. Gold swans. Which apparently, where he comes from, signify peace and prosperity. His parents, once they'd gotten over the shock of whatever their son was doing, had said it's traditionally doves that signify peace and prosperity. And gold had nothing to do with it.

But he ushered them into the hall anyway, his two daughters following after him giggling away because they think their father is the greatest man in the kingdom.

The swans had no interest in being introduced to you or anyone, they set off waddling around the hall in a pack, feathers still wet from whatever concoction he'd made to turn them gold. Not a single person left the banquet without being tarnished with gold paint and the head housekeeper was furious at the golden swan footprints that lay on every inch of the stone floor.

Ladies screamed and men bared their swords as Seokmin and Dahye tried to wrangle the swans, the children and a frantic Jeonghan, out of the hall. But not even a swan-based disaster could ruin your day, if anything you revelled in the chaos of it. Knowing that if you’d have been shipped off to marry Lord Eghart, you’d have never had so much fun in your life, ever again.

Jeonghan's father had said he wouldn't blame the King if he put Jeonghan in the stocks. Even suggested the head housekeeper should get to throw the first piece of rotten veg at him for the sheer amount of cleaning everyone is going to have to do.

"He just likes to make things unforgettable!"

You laugh even harder at Seokmin's face.

"Unforgettable?! It will certainly be that! Every single guest is covered in gold paint! How did he even get them that covered in it?! Fucking stupid man."

"You love him."

"I do." He sighs.

He sits on the bed next to you. He looks relaxed, like his whole life has been leading up to this moment and now he's here, he's going to fully enjoy the life he's got ahead of him.

You, on the other hand, have been dreading this moment.

This is the first time you've stayed in your new, shared, bed chambers. They'd been designed and re-decorated to both your specifications. It was large, airy, but with luscious throws and furs scattered everywhere, a large wooden four poster bed stood in the far end and a sumptuous sitting area with velvet goose feather cushions was in the centre. The windows overlooked the lake on one side, and the rose garden on the other. You'd be able to keep the wooden shutters open in the summer, but they were thick enough to keep the cold out a little in the winter. Although the large stone fireplace would keep you more than toasty when the winter snows arrived.

It wasn't the idea of sharing bed chambers that was worrying you. It was what that entailed. You'd spent many happy hours kissing and holding each other but nothing more than that. And you are well aware what tonight was going to entail.

You think.

You'd read about it in books, but never actually done anything. How are you given the opportunity to when you're not allowed to be alone with a man?!

You're certain Seokmin isn't as inexperienced as you though, he'd spent many an evening at the tavern in the nearby village. He's surely spent countless nights with a beautiful village girl or stunning noble woman who was passing through.

You had certainly climaxed before, normally to whatever you were reading that you found in a far end corner of the library. But never with anyone else.

"You know we don't have to do anything, right?"

"What?" He breaks you out of your thoughts.

The main purpose of people getting married is to provide an heir, surely that entails doing something.

"You're clearly overthinking this, we don't have to do anything if you're not ready."

"I'm just..... I'm worried, I'm not as experienced as you and..."

"I've never been with anyone." He frowns.

"You're a man. You've all been with someone. You go to the tavern, or you used to."

"I generally pay with gold, not my body."

You know he's trying to lighten the mood but to say you're shocked would be an understatement. You thought it was just what young men of his age did.

"I just thought you'd have laid with someone, that's all." You shrug, playing with your hands.

You don't mean for your voice to come out a quietly as it does, not wanting to show any more nerves than you already are. But he loves you, why are you so worried to share your worries and thoughts?

"I told you,” he takes your face in his hands, “I have loved you since I was a boy, I haven't looked at anyone else, bar you. And I'm the Prince and heir to this kingdom, I can't just be roaming the taverns, finding women to bed!"

"Many Princes do."

"Well not this one. I'm in the same boat as you. Don't get me wrong, I've got very good ideas about what I want us to do together."

His smirk makes you tingle, you've no doubt he's been thinking about this as much as you.

And you feel a little better knowing you're both in the same boat, both of you starting out on an even footing going into all this.

"I do want to do this. Tonight. I mean."

He stares at you, like he's trying to see whether you're just trying to do your wifely duty or if you really want this. Right now. With him.

"Are you sure?"

"I am. I love you and I trust you."

He leans into your touch when you hold his cheek, the fire reflects in his eyes as you take in the man that's now your husband.

"I love you too."

Your lips ghost his, the tension between you both is palpable, neither of you wanting to make the first move but wanting to do something more than ever.

“Stand up,” He whispers softly into your ear, placing a gentle kiss just under your ear lobe.

You rise slowly from the bed, your fingers shaking slightly as you turn to stand in front of him. Seokmin takes your waist, looking deeply into your eyes before he turns you around.

“Is this, ok?” He’s careful with his voice, noting the deep breath you took when you felt his fingers at the strings of the corset of your wedding dress.

“Yes,” you whisper back, torn between wanting to run and wanting to show the man you love everything he wants to see.

With every pull of the strings as he makes his way down your back, you feel your nerves weirdly leaving your body. It’s just you two here, two people who love each other and are going to give their bodies to each other in a way they never have with anyone else.

He moves the silk gown off your shoulders and onto the floor so that you can step out of it. Any care for the dress is lost when you turn back around to face him and see how his eyes shine bright with hunger. The only light in the room comes from the fire and various candles lit around the room and the way the fire currently illuminates you, Seokmin can see the silhouette of your body perfectly through the thin cotton under dress that you have on.

The way he’s looking at you bolsters your confidence and your hands reach down to pull the thin cotton smock off your body. Now standing completely naked in front of your husband, your nipples harden in the now cool air, and you find you don’t feel exposed or uncomfortable. You feel right, like this is exactly how this should be.

“You’re incredible.” He says in awe as his eyes run again and again up and down your body.

“Are you going to undress too?”

He doesn’t answer in words, simply stands to his feet, removing his shirt and undershirt and rushing to take off his leather slacks.

Your mind goes blank when he stands proudly, if not eagerly, in front of you.

Well, where the hell is that meant to go?!

Seokmin stands in front of you, completely bare and to say that he’s big would be an understatement. But is he even that big? It’s not like you’ve ever seen one, you once saw a diagram in a book about the human anatomy, but doctors have said that a lot of the anatomy books are to be taken with a pinch of salt, so you’re not even sure the drawing you saw was accurate.

Seokmin can sense you’re in your head and what better way to bring you back to him, than by holding the body he’s long admired.

His hands on your waist break your thoughts and before you can admonish him or worry about someone’s hands on your bear skin, his lips make contact with your neck, and you lose any worry that you mind held. His soft lips leave little pecks along your neck, making their way down towards you collar bones. Your pussy is wet between your legs, just from his lips on your skin and if you wait much longer you feel like you might burst.

Its time be brave _____.

You reach forward to take his cock into your hand, feeling pretty proud at the noise he lets out, somewhere between a groan and a high-pitched moan. Instinct takes over and you move your hand slowly up and down his length, you thought he had been fully hard when he revealed himself to you but to your horror it grows even larger in your hand.

Stop panicking _____. You’ve got this. It’s just Seokmin. Your Seokmin.

“Does that feel good?”

“Y-yeah,” his breath hitches, head resting on your shoulder as his hands move down to your ass.

You don’t know what takes over you, you want to feel him, to taste him, to know him.

Your knees hit the fur throw by your bed and a wide eyed Seokmin gawks down at you.

“You don’t have to do that if you don’t to. I wanted to taste you but….” His voice trails off.

He says it almost bashfully, like he should be the one to do things to you first, with him being your husband. But you don’t care, you’re almost salivating at the sight in front of you, you just want him.

“I want to.”

You don’t wait for an answer, your tongue tentatively licks the tip, his taste lingering on your taste buds just a little. It isn’t an unpleasant taste like you always thought it would be. You lick again and note the way Seokmin’s hips stutter slightly. Yes, you may have never done this before, but it isn’t hard to figure out the basic logistics of what to do with a cock in your mouth. You wrap your lips around the bulbous tip, sucking gently before pulling back a little to check his reaction.

Seokmin’s eyes are closed, hands fiddling near his sides as he waits for you to carry on. And so, you do. Your lips wrap around his cock once more, hand pumping the base a little so none of it goes unnoticed, as you begin to move you head up and down his length.

Your thighs clench together when Seokmin’s hands come down into your hair, the way your mouth is moving along his cock making him lose all of inhibitions. Your hurry up your motions, hand pumping and tongue running along the base of his length every time you move your head.

Feeling brave you swirl your tongue around the tip, all the while sucking on it. Your pussy is dripping down onto fur throw at this point, the idea of you making him this hard, drives you wild. His taste is becoming more and more strong on your tongue and you’ve no intention of stopping until you taste everything he has to give you.

His hands grip your hair, you never thought someone pulling on your hair could feel so good but the way he’s doing it, like he’s so desperate he has to hold onto something, makes you clench around nothing. Seokmin begins to guide your movements, dragging your eager mouth and tongue around his pulsing length with so much force that he may as well be fucking himself into your mouth.

He’s using you, not a care in the world other than making himself release in your mouth and you fucking love it. Both of your hands rest on his thighs, letting him use you in any way he pleases, his cock hits the back of your throat but the sound of you gagging seems to pull him out of whatever haze he was in.

His hands leave your head, and you wobble to the ground a little, now you haven’t got him to hold onto when he moves back.

“What are you doing?!” You whine, trying to reach for him, desperate to feel him in your mouth again.

You don’t miss how he twitches at you whining, the little movement only bolstering your need for him even more.

“You liked that?”

He’s looking at you in horror and you don’t care for what reason, you just want his cock back in your mouth.

“Yes! Now come back, please Seokmin.”

You here him mumble something about perfection but you don’t care, his pink tip is oozing in your face and your only wish it to taste what’s escaping.

Seokmin pauses you though, chucking at the annoyed look that’s thrown at him from your spot on the fur throw.

“Can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Can I…..help? Like….move?”

“You want to fuck my face?”

“_____!!!”

“What?! I read Seokmin, and I have spoken to your sister about such things.”

“Never mention my sister and face fucking in a sentence every again please.” He grimaces. “But…yes.”

He looks like he’s asking cook for second helpings of dessert, wondering if he’s going to get told off.

You don’t know why. The idea of him using you like that makes you fucking drip.

You don’t answer him, just sit on your knees, mouth open and waiting for him.

“Fuck.”

He places his cock in your mouth, your lips wrapping around it greedily as you hum at the taste of him on your tongue again. His hands come back down to your head, holding the back of it as he tentatively moves his hips forward. He chuckles a little when he feels your hands on his thighs trying to make him move quicker. The muffled moan you let out when his tip kisses the back of your throat seems to be the only sign he needs to get moving.

His hips snap into your face, cock repeatedly hitting your throat, revelling in the way it tightens every time you gag around him. Your tongue still runs up and down the underside of his length as best it can at the speed his hips are moving and the way his hands grip your hair hurts so nicely that you clench repeatedly around nothing, thighs pressing together to relieve the ache.

You’re not sure what’s wetter, your pussy or your face. Tears stream down your cheeks and saliva runs down your chin as Seokmin keeps abusing your mouth. You’re certain he’s bruising your throat with the ferocity that his cock slams into it, but you don’t care, the only thing in your mind is his cock.

His movements are becoming erratic and his taste his overtaking your senses more and more, a couple more thrusts into your more than willing mouth and you feel something warm and salty hit the back of your throat. Seokmin holds your head so firmly against him that your nose meets the little patch of dark hair just above his cock. His hips twitch as he empies himself in your throat before cursing and quickly realising what he’s done.

You’re breathless when he finally releases you, swallowing on instinct because of how far inside you he was. But you wanted that, you wanted to taste him, to swallow.

But that seems to panic Seokmin.

“Shit,” he rushes to help you up off the floor, you having leant to the side a little to recover, “are you ok? I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?” You ask, once you’re back on the bed with him. “I wanted you to, I wanted everything.”

He stares at you, like he can’t believe his perfect _____ is talking like this.

“You’re filthy.” He smirks once the initial shock wears off.

“Is that a problem?” You raise your eyebrow in challenge.

“Absolutely not.”

You don’t get a chance to respond, he lunges forward, knocking you to lie down on the bed as his lips attack yours. He clearly doesn’t care that he can taste himself on your tongue judging from the way his own is demanding entry to explore your mouth. The kiss is needy and wanton, his tongue swirling round yours until he finally has to pull away for air.

“Can I return the favour?”

You do want that. At some point anyway. But not now, you want to feel what it’s like to have him inside you, to not know where you start and he ends.

“Do you think you’ll be ready to go again any time soon?”

You chance a look down and your heart leaps when you see he’s already half hard again. It drops slightly though when you turn your attention back to his face and he looks a little put out.

“I do want that, I just…I really want to feel what it’s like when you fill me up.”

Any disappointment is gone with the way you say that, his cock hardening that bit more.

“I could get there,” he smirks, taking you nipple into his mouth, air hitting your breast when he huffs out a laugh around it from the way you moaned.

His tongue swirls around your nipple the way yours did around the tip of his length before he releases it with a pop. The cool night air feels chillier against your wet nipple, making you impossibly wetter.

His fingers travel slowly downwards, his eyes finding yours as he makes his first contact with your sopping cunt. Fire roars in his eyes when he feels how wet you are for him, how much you want him.

“Me fucking your face made you this wet?”

“You make me this wet, Seokmin.”

His fingers pause what they were doing, and he moves away from you.

“Turn around.”

The sound of his dark voice sends a thrill straight to your pussy and you rush to turn around for him, presenting your dripping pussy to him happily. Your back arches, butt high in the air when his fingers find your pussy again.

You can tell he’s a little nervous, he’s moving his two fingers around slowly, waiting for the reaction he’s looking for. His fingers lightly run over your clit and the airy moan that leaves you tells him he’s found what he was looking for.

A little more pressure is added, Seokmin looking in wonderment at how much wetter you get for him every time he rubs your bundle of nerves just right. The sight of you, ready for him to take you, makes his cock twitch, him now fully hard again. How did he get such a perfect fucking wife?

“Are you ready? Are you sure it’s ok like this?”

“I’m ready. Just, go slow please, at first.”

“Of course, my love, just tell me if it hurts please.”

“I will, you whisper.”

A strange mixture of nerves and excitement course through you, not knowing what to expect but knowing, at this moment in time, you need him.

Your breath hitches when he lines himself up with your aching hole and you feel him near you for the first time. He waits a second, allowing you both to take a deep breath before he moves forward a little, his tip entering you just a tiny amount.

You wince a little, the feeling completely foreign. It’s a little painful, but you’re so wet that you feel like it’s going a little better than it may have gone with anyone other than Seokmin. He heard you wince though and so pauses, the tip just breaking through your clenching hole.

“Are you ok?”

His voice is strained, like it’s paining him to hold back.

“Just a little sore.”

“Shall we stop?” he rushes to say, the idea of you being in pain hurting him too.

“No, just move a little more, I’ll get used to it.”

“Ok,” he sighs, hand gently rubbing your thigh to steady you, and himself.

He pushes forward a little further and then a little further again before he moves back out a small amount. Tentatively he moves in and out slowly until eventually he’s fully inside you. Your tight hole clenching repeatedly around him in a way that makes his brain fog.

“Tell me when I can move,”

“Move now,” you moan, moving back a little needing to feel him.

And so, he does, he slowly fucks himself in and out of your sopping pussy, his cock making you feel things you never have before whilst you can do nothing but moan beneath him.

His fingers dig into your hips and his tests out thrusting just that bit harder. When you moan loudly into the feather mattress, he knows you need more, just like him. He holds you tight and slams his hips into you, cock plunging deep inside you as he tips greets a spot inside you that you didn’t know you had. Your fingers had certainly never found it, but Seokmin has and the feeling off his big cock hitting it repeatedly has you sobbing into the mattress.

He pulls you up, so your back meets his chest as his cock continues its assault on your drooling cunt, one hand on your hip and the other coming to toy with one of your pebbled nipples. His ragged breath in your ear only makes you clench down harder on him, your pussy leaking all over his cock.

“You feel so good my love, fuck I’d have told you years ago how I felt if I knew you felt like this.”

You don’t answer, just stammer out a moan and rest your head back on his shoulder.

Seokmin takes the opportunity to suck a mark on your neck, seeing as how you presented it to him so nicely. But it may have proved to be a mistake because the way your hole clenches around him brings him perilously close to cumming again.

“Are you close?”

No answer, just strangled moans as he impales you again and again on his throbbing length.

“My love,” his voice is strained, “are you going to cum for me? Cum all over my cock?”

“Mm-mm” you hum, eyes closed in ecstasy from the way his cock hits you and his fingers tug on your nipple.

“Me.” A hard thrust. “Too.” Another one and just like that you clench so hard around him that you push both of you into ecstasy.

You’ve never felt anything like it, your whole body feels like it’s being lit from within. Your fingers cling to the bed as tears fall down your cheeks and your thighs, the feeling of cumming around him like this brining you a feeling you never expected. You feel him empty himself deep inside you as he groans in your ear when he feels you cum all over his cock. He keeps moving as best he can, wanting to ride you through your high as your body shakes and twitches against his own, small moans leaving your pretty lips as his cock keeps getting you off even after his own release.

Seokmin holds you against him as you both come back down to reality, making sure you know he’s there for you after what’s just happened. The feel of his heartbeat against your back almost matches your own, like the two of your hearts belong together so much that even your heart beats thump together as one.

“Are you ok?”

His fingers run up and down your stomach, trying to soothe you and calm your breathing.

“Yes,” you whisper, trying to turn your head on his shoulder, to look at him, “are you?”

“I’m wonderful.” He beams down at you, kissing your nose.

You grimace a little when his soft length leaves you, Seokmin taking the opportunity to manoeuvre you both down onto the bed, pulling the silk throw over you the pair of you.

He stares down at you, moving a piece of hair off your sweaty forehead, looking at you like your eyes hold all the wonders of the world and he’s got his whole life to discover them.

“I’m so pleased Lord Eghart came.”

Any joy in his face vanishes with those words you utter.

“Don’t be like that! I just mean……. if he hadn’t have come here, we’d probably still be tearing shreds off each other. I doubt either of us would have confessed until we were eighty, if it wasn’t for him.”

“I guess so, at least he’s done one good thing in his rotten life.”

You can’t help but smile at how much Seokmin hates Lord Eghart.

“Never mention him again though,” he pouts, wrapping you in his arms and squeezing you so tight you might pop, “I want us only to be happy. To have a happy life and a happy Kingdom and do a lot more of what we’ve just done.”

“Well, we could,” you groan, “if you don’t break me first!”

His laugh fills your ears as he lets you go a little, but not completely.

“I mean it. We’ve wasted enough time being rotten to each other. Now we can look forward to life of pure happiness.” He beams at you.

“Is that right Prince Big Head?”

You move his hair out of his face as his smile turns into a frown, realising that you may be married, but you’ll still try your best to annoy him.  

“It is, Princess Big Head.”

He’s very pleased with himself when he sees your horrified look. You don’t have it in you to stay angry at him though, not when his wide smile reflects your own as you cocoon yourselves in the silk throw, bodies moulding together as you drift off to sleep.

Perhaps life in this castle isn’t so bad after all. Not when your husband’s hands hold you tightly and you have a family around you that love you. Good old lord Eghart. May he rot in the dungeons.

🏷️ @vwintershire @cheolwoo @sejeonggggg @fwairychlo3 @bramos91 @ninigyuuu @cardi-bre91 @rutheaflowers

[serejae]

DEAR, FUTURE HUSBAND | LSK

IN WHICH... Seokmin follows your guide to your perfect husband

[acphengene]

Melodies

✦ pairing: Dokyeom x reader

✦ genre: soulmate au, fluff, angst, found family

✦ wordcount: 3.6k

✦ note: i'm so excited for you all to read this. I can't figure out if I'm somewhat dissapointed in this story or if it came out exactly as imagined. maybe it's just because I've planned it for so long that if for some reason feels kind of anticlimactic?

✦ reading order: Hoshi ✦ Jun ✦ Jeonghan ✦ Woozi ✦ Minghao ✦ Dino ✦ Wonwoo ✦ Dokyeom ✦ Seungkwan ✦ The article ✦ Scoups ✦ Joshua ✦ Vernon ✦ Mingyu ✦

Seokmin was a singer, he had been since he had found his voice, since he had heard his first song. It had always been the only thing he ever wanted to do. It had always been what brought him joy. So of course singing had also been his mark. 

He discovered it a day where he was abruptly woken from his sleep while a cat was dying outside of his window, or at least that was what he thought had made that all around terrible sound. 

It had taken him a minute or so before he discovered that it in fact was you that was singing so loud, and so incredibly bad, that he would’ve gafa-taped your mouth if he could. 

He had tried harmonizing with you, but in the end he had to give up entirely, he was after all pretty sure whatever note you tried hitting didn’t exist. What had he done in his previous life to deserve something like this? 

No, as bad as you were at singing he found complete and utter joy in it. Bad karaoke night when you had a slurred speech and were with your friends was one of his favorite things, so was waking him while you were singing in the shower. Or at least that was what he was telling himself you were doing, since it was around the same time all workdays of the week.

To him you were perfect, to him you were just right. 

Every now and then, you would sing a song, one so heartbreaking and sad, one with a voice so small and broken, that he knew it was only meant for him. A song that represented just how you missed him every day the two of you weren’t together. 

He would always stay quiet, tears welling in his eyes, as he listened to the declaration of love, always humming a few words from ‘Thanks’ in response. 

He had loved you from the very first note. And he would love you until the very last. 

His voice was amazing, it was clean, crisp as an autumn morning, and the first time you had heard it, you had been completely mesmerized. 

Your soulmate had most likely more musical talent in his little finger, than you had in your entire body. And it made you proud. 

At first you didn’t have the slightest idea of who he was, all you knew was that he was Korean, so naturally you had started learning the language, and one day, in one of the night classes you had hummed one of the songs he had been singing all day every day for the past few months. 

One of the girls in your class gently tapped you on the shoulder, and as you turned to her she gave you a gentle smile. 

“Are you a carat?” she asked with what almost looked like hopeful eyes. 

“I’m… I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure I know what that means” you could feel the blush that crept up your neck and flooded your cheeks with color. 

“The song” she crooked her head to one side and looked like a puppy with those large eyes. “It’s by Seventeen?” 

You shook your head a little confused, suddenly embarrassed. Within a second she had pulled out her phone. And had the song blasting on her speakers. “They just released it yesterday, definitely one of my favorites” 

The mystery woman had stood and left you to your own thoughts after that. Nothing she had said made any kind of sense. Seventeen was a number and carats were a way to measure the worth of diamonds. 

You tried your best to forget it, but there was this somewhat nagging voice in the back of your mind who kept telling you to check it out, to google it. But for some reason you just didn’t. 

Seokmin was currently sulking in a corner of the dressing room. A small pout on his lips as he stared down at the clothes he was wearing. He couldn’t help but fidget with the golden belt that was tied around his waist. 

Joshua dropped down beside him. He analyzed his friend with those large eyes, trying to figure out just what the current problem was. 

It was a common misconception that Seokmin was loud in everything that he did. He loved loudly, laughed loudly. But when the feelings were gloomy and sad, he pulled back into himself. He got quiet, distant. 

“Are you okay?” Joshua asked as he reached out for his hand. 

Seokmin just sighed deeply before he shrugged. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” 

He pressed his lips together, making the pout even more predominant than it had been the second before. The tears welled in his eyes and they threatened to spill.

“I thought she would’ve found me by now” he managed to say. He turned his head away from Joshua and the rest of the room as he let a single tear fall before he expertly whisked it away before it could ruin his make up. 

The room around them quieted. His brothers all looked to one another, they all understood the pain. They all understood what he meant. Seokmin was blessed with a voice not many had, and he was blessed with a platform to share it. He was also blessed with a mark that would make it  easy for you to find him.

“I really thought this would be the comeback you know…” He leaned forward on the couch as he buried his head in his hands. 

“What if she knows and just doesn't care for me? What if she doesn’t want to know me? What if she’s… disappointed that it’s me?” 

He took a deep breath and looked at the sealing to avoid ruining the job of the make-up artists completely. His brothers all flocked around him. 

“If she has ever thought that. Even for a second, she doesn’t deserve you. But maybe she just hasn’t found you yet. Maybe this will be the comeback that reaches her” Joshua said with as much hope he could muster. Sparkling eyes that tried to get him to understand his own worth. 

Luckily it seemed to work. He leaned into him, and allowed him a few minutes of comfort in his best friend's arms. 

Joshua had been right, this was the comeback that finally reached you. A quick google search a few nights after that night class had sent you down the right path. And there he was, the voice of an angel and a beauty so jawdropping you for a second thought he must’ve been shaped by the gods himself. 

You had cried, you had cried a lot that night as you did a deep dive into the group, desperate to learn absolutely everything you could about your other half. It had been quite the shock to find out that the beauty with the voice of a siren was in fact a major crackhead. 

It had been a long time since anyone had made you laugh so hard your cheeks were physically hurting, but he had managed to do just that. You needed to see him, needed to meet him. 

Unfortunately that was easier said than done. Being a somewhat broke student meant that you needed to save at least for a little while, because there was no chance you would just run into him on the street. No, if you were going to meet him, you were gonna need a concert, and you would need to be as close to that stage as humanly possible. 

It ended up taking a little longer than you had expected. But as soon as you got your first job after you finished school, you purchased the ticket to Seoul. 

You had been blessed by meeting the sweetest stewardess in the airport that quickly upgraded your seat to first class when she noticed the little Doa hanging from your bag. It would at least make the trip a little more enjoyable. 

The woman next to you was around your own age, and at one point the two of you ended up sharing your life stories with one another while you shared a bottle of champagne. 

“So why are you going to Seoul?” the women named Thalia had asked somewhere between your first and fifth glass. 

You had sighed. “I’m going to find my soulmate” 

She had raised her glass to that. “What about you? Have you found yours yet?” 

A sad smile was all she gave you in response, and you guessed that was answer enough. “My mark is complex,” she shrugged. 

You furrowed your brows. “How?” 

She sighed. “It’s difficult to explain” 

You had left it at that and talked about everything else that seemed interesting for the two of you to share on the long journey. It had felt almost bittersweet to leave her, for a second you had considered if you should ask her to go with you, if she wanted to embark on this adventure with you. But it was way too much to ask of a stranger. 

She had gotten off the plane before you, but you ended up catching up to her at the arrival section of the airport where she seemed to have found her driver. You walked up behind her and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

She laughed as she pulled you into her, giving you a hug. “There you were, I thought I wouldn’t get to say goodbye” 

“Glad I found you then” You sent a wink her way that she quickly returned. 

“Good luck on finding your soulmate” she said as she took your hand. 

You gave Thalias a gentle squeeze. “Yours too. I don't know what makes your mark complex. But if you ask me; the flowers are absolutely beautiful, I’m sure he will think so too. I hope to see you around!” 

You pulled your suitcase with you as you walked towards the exit. “Oh! And the sunflowers sprouting when walking through them are especially cute” you waved at her, taking one last look at this stranger, this friend, and the sunflowers you had left in the wake of her daisies. 

The next few days you spent getting used to the time difference, eating food and exploring the city. The exploration especially consisted of visiting stores and events for the upcoming concert. It felt nice getting to experience this side of him, of all 13 of them before you got to know them. 

It also felt like you were extremely delusional. If it hadn’t been for the constant singing in your head you would’ve felt like you were losing your mind.. Although you wondered just how many of those attending tomorrow's concert would walk in there, hoping they would feel that pull of love towards one of the members. 

In all your research about Seokmin and his brothers it hadn’t been quite clear how many of them had met their other halves. The only one that was confirmed was Jeonghan and Limo, the rest was only rumors. 

You only hoped you wouldn’t be the last. That he hadn’t waited for too long. 

“Limo is bringing a friend today and a reporter, so please be kind to her, and try not to be too strange” Jeonghan had said as they had gotten to the venue that morning. 

“I will not be kind to strangers Jeonghan, you know this!” Dino yelled after the older man who already looked like he had lost all his energy. 

Seokmin and Soonyoung laid in one of the couches and laughed at the youngest who only got a smack on the arm from his soulmate as a response. 

The day went smoothly and before he knew it he was standing on stage once again, ready for yet another performance. But one song into the soundcheck and his heart stopped. 

In that pretty head of his he heard that voice of his other half, as she sang along with him. 

At first he was just over the moon that she had finally found them, that she finally seemed to catch on and google at least one of the many songs he had been singing over and over again throughout the years. 

But this was different. She was singing along, to all of his parts, in all of the songs they were currently performing for their soundcheck. Which could mean one of two things: either she was there in one of the seats, or she was out there being let in at any moment. 

Unfortunately for Seokmin they were whisked off stage before he had a chance to really look at the people in the audience, to see if he felt that connection that was hidden deep within him. The shock of it all had made him look down at his feet for most of the time, or looking only at his members, as he tried his best not to cry. 

He grabbed Seungkwan as soon as they stepped off the stage. “She’s here” he whispered to the younger man.

“What?” He looked at Seokmin with a look that usually meant: please stop whatever it is you’re doing. But the serious expression and quiet demeanor made him instantly intrigued. 

“Wait… Are you sure?” He scanned the man before him, and it was clear for all to see that he was a complete nervous wreck. 

“Seokmin, look at me” and he did, his exhales shaking with each breath. “How do you know?” 

So he told him, and luckily for Seokmin his friend locked in right away. 

He felt like he was floating before he went on stage. In fact he doubted he had ever been more nervous in his life. 

Seungkwan had pulled him aside right before they went back up on stage, whispering that he had to cool down a little, and that he did in fact not know if it was just a coincidence and that you just knew the songs because of him, not because you were in fact there. 

He had rolled his eyes at that, but he also knew he was right. It could go one of two ways, he would either get the best gift of his life or leave the venue more disappointed than he had ever been. There was no in between. 

He was so nervous his whole body shook when he looked out at the crowd. Nothing could calm that beating heart of his, inside his chest. 

He scanned every face whenever he could, every single one who looked his way. He heard the small echo of your voice in his ear. It wasn’t loud, almost as if you didn’t want to disturb him. But it was there and it brought him hope. 

In one of the breaks he had talked to Wonwoo, and apparently he wasn’t the only one destined to find his other half that evening. Wonwoo seemed more worried, nervous than he did himself. 

It was finally turn to walk around on stage and he did, almost in a hurried manner. He scanned every face, as a man on a mission, doing his very best to seem as light and happy as usual. Despite feeling like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. 

And then the world stopped. Because right there, holding your hands tightly around the barricade were you. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen. 

He felt heat like never before blossom in his chest, and he had to force himself not to run to you. Instead he sat down at the edge of the stage and sang to you. 

It was absolute magic to finally have him standing in front of you. He was even more beautiful in real life. As soon as he had found you, his eyes never left yours. He took your breath away with each note that he sang, he made your heart sing for him whenever you lost your voice due to the overwhelming emotions you felt. 

The arena could be empty and you wouldn’t know, because all you saw was him. The man you knew as Seungkwan sat down next to him and sent a wave your way which you quickly returned, and before you knew it he was there by your side, holding a microphone to you. 

You knew the traditions of ‘Aju Nice’, every carat did, and it came as no surprise to those around you that you were picked due to DK’s infatuation with you. 

You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue and raised a brow to him. He knew your singing voice sounded more like a cat dying than a person singing, and here he was, daring you to make it known for the entire arena. Hell the world. 

The notes left your mouth as on queue and the entirety of Seventeen broke down in laughter. You knew right then and there, that this would be something that would haunt you for the rest of your life. 

Seokmin ran down the stairs and gently pushed his brother out of the way. The notes had been the final confirmation, because they had echoed in his mind and he now knew that you were his and his alone. 

He swung his arms around you and pulled you close, not caring about the crowd or the carats that stood so close. Tears of happiness ran down his face as he pulled away to look at you. To wipe away your tears, before kissing your forehead. 

He made a small gesture with his head, and quickly called over security to help you over the fence that was currently between the two of you. As quickly as you had been in his arms, as quickly you were whisked away. 

A manager had been there and helped you backstage, where the two of you would be united in no more than a few short minutes. 

Your hands flew to your mouth as you buckled over, doing your absolute best to force air into your lungs. 

A woman stood close by and was by your side in an instant. “Hey are you okay?” She said with a calm smile displayed on her lips. 

You nodded, and then the tears fell even heavier, and without even thinking she had pulled you into her chest. 

“Shhhh… It’s okay” she said as she silently stroked your hair. You could’ve sworn you heard her smile, but she calmed you, and for that you were grateful. 

She had given your shoulders a small squeeze as the guys one by one started coming back from the stage. Her arms reached out for Jun, as his did for her. He gave you a smile similar to the one she had given you only a moment ago, as he gestured over his shoulders. 

And there he was. You had no idea why, but all you could do was laugh, and it was as if the sound itself released him from the trance he was in. Cause he let out what you could only describe as a scream of pure joy, and then he ran to you. 

He lifted you from the ground and spun you around, and the two of you laughed. People around you stopped and cheered. 

When he sat you down his lips crashed onto yours, and you welcomed it with a smile as you pulled him closer into you. You felt his chest rise and fall as a giggle blossomed beneath his muscles. He was a lot bigger in real life than you had expected. 

He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “I can't believe you’re actually here” he whispered. 

“Sorry it took so long” You saw his pained expression, and you stood on your tiptoes as you kissed him tenderly, hoping the gesture would be enough to make him look less sad. Luckily it was. “I got here as fast as I could” 

He gave you a quick kiss before he pulled you into him, he hummed a little melody and it felt like pure bliss to be there to hear his vocals in real time. “I know. I looked for you everywhere I went” he whispered in your ear. 

It was a funny feeling. You felt at home instantly despite this being your first ever encounter. He was everything you could’ve ever wished for and more. 

He rested that perfectly sculpted nose against yours as he laughed, and you decided right then and there, that it had to be your favorite melody in the entire world. 

Neither of you really registered the men and women who stood around you all observing you. You saw only one another, the rest of the world had disappeared. 

“Yah! Can you let go of her! Some of us want to meet her!” Joshua yelled from the sidelines, earning him a laugh from the people around them, including the two of you. 

Seokmin squeezed you once before releasing only one of his arms, but he never let go. All he did was pull you into his side. Then he nodded and the boys flooded you with introductions and sweet words of congratulations. 

When they were done, he kissed the top of your head, and then his look turned serious. “Wait… What about Wonwoo?” 

Jeonghan entered then, and gave you a small wave. “They’re in here. Both of them” He smiled and then the room broke out in celebration once again. 

As they left him he captured your lips once more, slowly biting your lower lip, an action that made you release a whimper, a sound so perfect and beautiful he almost threw you over his shoulder and kidnapped you back to his apartment. 

Instead he just smirked. “Let’s go meet the other new couple”

✦ taglist: @ijustwannareadstuff20 @zaycie @lveegsoi @hellaboredd @loudpeachdetective @why4anne @why-did-i-just-do-this @ramyeonzwithspam @floating-moon-dust @skyearby @acourtofmoonlightandstars @stormy1408 @tunafishyfishylike @sol3chu @blvengene @fics-lovebot @fangirl125reader @fabulousarepo4 @tunafishyfishylike @meowstake @chaseyui @ateez-atiny380 @reiofsuns2001 @dcrlingyou @dy-kyeom @unusuallyshy @littlemoonfairy02 @melovehao @kwonhs96 @juju-227592 @strwberrymuffins @mute-chaos @girliepop-is-in-the-house @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @wonznme @uncndtnllvr @plumpot17 @shegotheruby @huiimoon @user-0703 @my-neurodivergent-world

✦ as always; please comment, like, share, reblog all of that. It what's keeps me going and keeps me writing. My asks are always open for feedback or if you just wanna give me a little praise

[seokmn]

︵⠀F*CKING TOY ⠀◌Ⳋ ✧ ── moving on from your breakup is harder than you could ever imagine and it's making your "friend", Seokmin, frustrated.

pairing: seokmin x gn!reader wc: 2.1k words warnings: curse words, reader is bi and wears micro shorts, mentions of drinking, kissing and sex (sfw)

ᯓ★ “i came looking for the cure, it might be temporary”

You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this anymore; that you would change and would get in a better place, and you managed to do that for almost two months, until you felt it again. The breakup  was suffocating you and it seemed to follow you no matter where you went. You drowned in your work; changed your whole apartment; did your best to improve your results at the gym; found new hobbies; interacted more with your friends, and yet, nothing worked. 

That was the reason why you were at the crowded club, pouring alcohol down your throat like it was water. Your body moved along with the beats and, finally, you forgot about everything but the way you somehow connected to everyone that was on the dance floor with a cup of alcohol in their hands. You danced like there was no tomorrow; kissed some guys and girls that came to you and kept drinking until you felt drunk enough.

Everything seemed amazing and incredibly fine until you went to the restroom and stared at the blurry mirror and reality crashed you like a wave. Suddenly, you didn’t even know why you decided to go to the club if you promised yourself you wouldn’t fall for this trap anymore and why the person you were looking at in the mirror looked like you, but didn't feel like it was you. However, it was already too late, you’ve already found yourself calling an Uber to a place that’s on the other side of the city — probably thirty minutes from your place, you’ve never bothered to do the math.

The strong wind against your face when you were in the car sobered you up, but not entirely because you still didn’t feel the shame of what you were about to do and stop it before you knocked on his door. It felt like in a blink of an eye you were in front of his apartment’s door, the reddish wood making you feel nervous and forcing yourself to take a deep breath and fix your posture before knocking on it.

“Seokmin? Seokmin-ah, it’s me, Y/N.”

Nothing.

“Seokmin? Are you there?” You knocked again. “I want to talk to you.”

Not a single sound from inside the apartment. You huffed and rested your head on the closed door. “Minnie, please. It’s cold outside, I don’t want to get sick.”

You heard the sound of the door unlocking and your lips curled up in a smile. When the door opened, you immediately looked up and your eyes locked with Seokmin’s tired eyes that grew even more tired when he glanced at you and at what you were wearing.

 “It’s 2AM, Y/N. What do you want?” His voice lacked its usual softness.

He knew exactly what you wanted, he’s been a victim of your routine ever since you opened up to him and he told you that you could reach out to him anytime. You indeed reached out to him every time you felt like it, but it wasn’t in the way he initially imagined. He thought you would want to talk your feelings out, but it turned out you wanted to let your body talk and let him claim you for the night. At first, he was worried that those nights would blur the lines of your friendship, but you would always leave in the morning and act like nothing happened. I’m a fuck buddy, Seokmin thought, and then those nights became more frequent, but something changed, you started to leave him out of your life until the very moment you found yourself at his front door, waiting for him to open it to you. Seokmin didn’t feel like a fuck buddy anymore, he felt used and trapped in a cage he helped you to lock himself in and was holding the key, but was too infatuated for you to bring himself to leave.

You didn’t say to him what you wanted, you showed him by leaning in and crashing your lips against his and wrapping your arms around his neck as soon as your lips made contact. He clenched his fists on his sides and stayed still before giving in and kissing you back, his hands automatically finding your waist.

Seokmin broke the kiss to tell you that he wasn’t going to be part of your little routine this time, that he was tired of being used by you but the words died in his mouth when he looked at your face and saw how beautiful you looked while looking up at him and wanting him that bad. This is the last time, Seokmin, this is the last time you’ll let her in, the last time you’ll give her what she wants. And with that thought, he closed the distance between you once again and took you to his bedroom without breaking the kiss.

When you woke up the next day, the sun was already peeking through the curtains of Seokmin’s bedroom. You groaned quietly and sat up with the blanket wrapped around your chest, then you looked to the side and saw Seokmin’s back facing you. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing only the sweatpants from the night before, and was looking to the floor.

“Morning,” you reached out and rested your hand on his shoulder, but as soon as you saw the way his body stiffened you brought your hand back to your lap.

“When do you plan on doing this again? Next week? In three weeks? Will you try to beat your score and come to me in two months? Because you were so close to two months that I thought you would never show up again.”

“Don’t be like that, Minnie…”

“Don’t call me Minnie, Y/N. I’m tired of this sick game you play. You go to a club to have fun, then when you’re bored you just come to me so you can have sex and disappear from my life until the moment you think ‘I think I’m missing the way Seokmin touches me’ or some bullshit like that. I mean,” he looked to the side, leaving his side profile on display as he bit his lower lip and let out a bitter chuckle. “What kind of club are you going to that you can’t find an attractive guy to fuck? Do you get horny, find no good looking person at the club and that’s when you remember that I exist? Get a fucking grip, Y/N. I’m not a toy.”

“It’s not like that and you know it.”

“Do I really know it?” He turned his upper body to look at you. “Because it feels like you’re using me to forget about your ex.”

“I just,” you ran your fingers through your hair and glanced at the curtains before looking at the blanket, not being able to look in his eyes at that moment. “I like the way you make me feel and it helps me to forget about everything else. It’s like a cure to my sickness, but I’m not using you.”

“This so-called ‘cure’ is temporary and I’m not a cure, I’m a human being. Every time you leave this apartment you take some of my dignity and a piece of my heart with you. Hell, I feel like a prostitute but instead of getting money I just get this sick feeling of being humiliated!”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. If you feel so humiliated, why do you even open the door for me? You’re complaining about something that you’ve always agreed on!”

“Because I’m in love with you!” His voice raised more than he intended to, he cleared his throat and stood up, taking his shirt to put it on and lowering his voice. “It’s hard to say no to you when I hear you asking me to open the door or when you’re already all over me. I try to, but it feels impossible, okay? So when you leave it sucks because I know that I’ll only see or hear from you again when you decide that it’s time for you to use me again, but my stupid heart tells me to keep trying to reach out to you because maybe you’ll change your mind, but you always leave me on radio silence. Always.”

You tried to find the right words to defend yourself, but they didn’t seem to exist. You never thought about Seokmin’s feelings towards the situation. You didn’t remember when you stopped seeing him as your friend and started to see him as a tool to make the bad thoughts and feelings disappear, but you did it and at that moment you were handling the consequences of your actions.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your apologies, I want you to tell me that things will change. Tell me that once you step outside this apartment you will text me or reply to my texts. Tell me that you won’t come here only when you leave a club looking for a quick fuck.”

You wanted to lie, to tell him that things would change, that you’d make room for him in your life once again but you felt so vulnerable — and it wasn’t because you were fully naked under the blanket. “I don’t know, Seokmin. I can’t give you what you want right now. Everything’s just so… fucked up.”

“You know what’s actually fucked up? What you’ve been doing to me. If things are bad, you look up for a therapist, not for a night at the club and sex afterwards every freaking time! For God’s sake, Y/N, stop trying to ruin our lives, this won’t take us anywhere.”

“I know,” you reached out for your clothes that were on the floor and started to put them on.

“If you know that, why do you keep doing this?” He glanced at you and saw the unshed tears and felt a pang of guilt, so he sighed and sat next to you on the bed. “I know the breakup is taking a toll on you, even after months, but please… If you don’t want me in your life, stop showing up. I’m not even asking you to give me a chance because I can see that you’re not in the place to give anyone but yourself a chance, I’m just asking you to call this off so I can stop suffering.”

“I hate myself for doing this to you,” the lump in your throat started to hurt and you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. “I didn’t want any of this to happen. I wanted to give you a chance, I swear I wanted to, but,” you didn’t finish the sentence due to a sob that came out. 

Seokmin placed his hand on the back of your head and guided it to his chest. “Let it out, it’s alright,” his voice cracked a little bit and that was when you realized he was holding his tears back. Seokmin was always like that, when you vented to him for the very first time he cried along with you. He was always so precious to you and to everyone he cares for that made you cry even more and mumble countless I’m sorry.

After what it felt like hours of crying in silence, Seokmin spoke up. “Stay for breakfast and then you can leave. Try to leave this spiral again and don’t give up, but don’t call me or come here again, unless it’s urgent and I’m not talking about a carnal urgency. I’ll wait for you, Y/N, I'll wait for you to come back deciding just to be friends or deciding to take a chance on me. It doesn’t matter to me as long as you’re happy. I just can’t see you ruining your life and I can’t keep getting this hurt.”

You nodded and sniffled. You knew it could take a long time to move on from your past relationship and to overcome your bad habits, but you felt encouraged to do so because you had Seokmin by your side. Maybe all you needed was to hear someone telling you that they would wait for you and help you when you needed to. Sure, your closest friends also told you that and you knew they were being genuine, but it didn’t hit you like Seokmin’s words because at that moment, with your head resting on Seokmin’s chest, you let yourself be vulnerable for the first time instead of acting like everything was fine and you weren’t even suffering.

“Now come on, I’ll cook something for us.”

taglist ! @tkooooop @smiileflower @auroramilaa @livelaughloveseventeen @bbyinni @choco-scoups 𖹭.ᐟ enjoyed the fic? join my taglist to know whenever i'll post another one! have a great day ;)

[mochacoda]

[teaser] habitually | kmg

Pairing: Model!Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader (secondary Lee Dokyeom x Reader)

Synopsis: Dokyeom checks all the boxes. He's marriage material, at least according to your friends. So why can't you believe them? Maybe it has something to do with the ex you're still hung up over, Mingyu.

Content: Fluff, Angst | Childhood Friends to Lovers to Exes to Lovers

Tags: in which you are younghee (DON'T look at me), imagine 500 days of summer and la la land had a baby, lowk toxicity, dk is a bumbling "nice guy" for fic purposes only, reader basically thinks everything that isn’t mingyu-coded is an ick, jealousy, cursing, gyu is taller, mingiggles, no "y/n," konglish

Playlist: Tear the Roof with a High Kick (Tear the Roof with a High Kick OST), Some (Soyou), Juna (Clairo), ONLY (LeeHi), You are my Girl (Tear the Roof with a High Kick OST), Fear (Seventeen) + more in full

Word Count: 8K (teaser) -> 20K (est. full)

Release Date: late September

2015년 11월 20일 | 2015 November 20

“안녕?” Hi?

It’s just one word, but it’s accompanied by a bashful wave and a familiar smile, and that’s about all it takes. Years of imagining what you’d say when he finally returned, rendered totally useless. Steady self control knocked down in a single sweeping blow. 

“안녕,” you say softly back, a little breathless. Hi.

He stands up suddenly from his desk, which draws some fleeting stares from other students loitering around the classroom. A little flustered from the attention, he clears his throat and stiffly folds his arms together before looking at you again. 

“키가 많이 컸네. 오랜만이야,” he blurts. You got a lot taller. It’s been a while. 

He smiles shyly, and you catch a flash of the canines peeking behind his lips. 

You swallow thickly, right hand fidgeting with the material of your pants. Has the air gotten more humid since the bell rang? As if something presses against your chest, every breath takes effort.

Voice faint, you just barely manage a reply. “어⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅.” Yeah… 

The tail end of the sound tapers off as your eyes busy themselves with tracing the physical features of the boy standing before you. What’s different? His eyes, nose, and lips are the same. His hair is dyed light brown and he’s styled it to be more swoopy than it was before. His voice is a bit deeper. His height has definitely sprouted. And of course, there’s that dreadful knee brace, and his crutches. 

But what else? Something’s different. Something important. It has to be. Something logically has to explain why your body has stiffened so much. Just as a multiple choice question can only have one best answer, there must be a correct explanation somewhere out there. 

Sensing something in the silence, he clears his throat. “안 본 사이에 어떻게 지냈어?” How have you been since the last time I saw you?

It’s not just a light greeting. He’s actually earnestly asking, judging by the hint of worry found in the light crinkle between his brows. 

Suddenly fatigued, your eyes fall to the tiled floor. High school has been rough. Your dull life is dictated by exam scores and CSAT studies and law school preparation. But it certainly can’t be any worse than he’s been doing. That hideous grey chunk of plastic attached to his left leg speaks for itself. 

And so, the words robotically fall out of your mouth. “뭐, 잘지내고 있지.” Ah, I’m good.

A sharp bout of coughing and the obnoxious squeaking of sneakers causes you to turn your head to the door. On their way out, three classmates wave at you, and you wave back. 

Gently, he asks, “진짜?” Really?

“어?” you say distractedly, still watching the last student leave. Huh? 

“너⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅ 진짜 괜찮아?” You… are you really okay?”

Your eyes snap back to him, taking in his strangely concerned eyes. His facial features are familiar, but the expression he’s making is alien. Has he always been so serious-looking? Your right hand twitches, as if you almost want to reach out and smooth down the crease between his eyebrows. 

What happened to the boy who loved fooling around so much that he regularly scraped his knees on the playground? What became of the silly boy who didn’t care about the scars on his legs, as long as he got to play soccer? Was that boy—the one you used to carry Band-Aids in your back pocket for—really the same as the one standing before you? When that boy left to chase his dreams, you had figured that you’d see him again when he made it to a national team. Never in a million years would you have imagined that he could change. That he would get hurt. That he’d fail to go pro. 

So if there’s anyone who should be asked that deadly question, it would be him. Granted, he probably won’t answer. It’s obvious, and pointing out things that are obvious tend to wound the heart. 

You say it anyway. “너는?” What about you? 

“나는?” Me? With wide, bewildered eyes, he points at himself with confusion. 

You nod. Is he even okay? 

If he should be worried about anyone, it should be himself. Unless he talks about how he’s feeling, you’re not about to talk about how you’re feeling. And with half the school whispering—both behind his back and sometimes right in front of him—about his career-ending ACL tear, it’s clear that he isn’t keen on harping on it. 

He frowns, but it’s closer to a pout than a scowl. 

You glance at the small clock nailed to the wall. It’s almost time for him to go to his physical therapy appointment. If he leaves now, he’ll probably be able to make it on time. 

You stand up from your chair. Hauling your school bag over your shoulders, you grab your lunch box and turn toward the door, as if you’re going to head out immediately.

He immediately protests. “야, 어디가?” Hey, where are you going? 

Scrambling to grab the book bag he haphazardly threw on the floor, but unable to bend his left knee very well, he looks at you with wide, frantic eyes. 

“됐어, 내가 들게.” Relax, I’ll take it. 

You turn around and swipe his bag off the floor. It’s so lightweight, you almost laugh. Does he have any books in there at all? Squishing the material down so that the second backpack doesn’t obscure your vision, you walk toward the door. 

As you step out into the hall, you call out to him. “뭐해, 안 따라오고?” What are you doing, not following me?

“어? 같이 가! 같이 가자고!” he shouts desperately, finally getting a hold of himself. Huh? Let’s go together! I said ‘let’s go together!’ 

Like an injured puppy who still wants to play outside, he scrambles to push in his chair before hobbling over with his crutches. A faint curve traces your lips as you lean against the door, holding it open for him. 

Okay, maybe some things haven’t changed that much.

2015년 11월 27일 | 2015 November 27 (+7 days)

It’s freezing outside. Wrapped in a thick coat, you rub your exposed palms together, staring blankly at the busy night road. November in Seoul is always cold, but it feels a little bit icier than usual today. Your ears and hands are going numb. As you exhale a puff of condensation, you close your eyes briefly, only for someone to call out your name.

“안녕!” Hey!

You turn around to see a boy with a bright face and fanged smile, which sparks a relieved wave from you. He’s dressed in a cable knit sweater and a thick coat, and it seems that he dyed his hair since the last time you saw him, because it’s a silvery grey now. Though he got rid of the crutches a few days ago, you can see the plastic parts of the ugly brace peeking through the material of his pants.

“안녕,” you reply casually. Hi.

“안녕, 뭐해 여기서? 방가워, 안녕!” Hey, what are you doing here? It’s so nice to see you, hi! 

He rounds out the end of the last greeting with a hesitant little wave of his hand, as if he wasn’t sure if a hug would be appropriate. The wave is followed by a sheepish glance to the shops to the right of the sidewalk, before he turns his gaze back to you.

A small laugh escapes you. He’s acting weird. As a kid, he never thought twice about his actions. Is he nervous or something? 

Seemingly proud that he made you laugh, he musters the courage to keep talking. “집에 가는 길이야?” Are you on your way home?

Unfortunately for him, teasing him is your newfound favorite pastime, so you say, “어.” Yeah. 

You state it dryly, like it’s obvious, but it’s a lie. Lately, you’ve taken to dropping him off and picking him up from his physical therapy appointments. It’d be stranger if you didn’t show up for him. He knows it, too, judging by his initial lack of alarm. 

When you remain silent, though, his excitement crumbles into panic. You can just see his eyes shaking with the idea that your dismissal could be potentially real. Well, you can’t have him worried about that, can you?

Before he pouts again, you quickly add, “근데 시간이 좀 있어.” But I have some time.

At that, he relaxes, then tenses again. With a nervous laugh, he asks, “그래? 그럼 우리⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅ 커피 마시러 갈래?” Really? Then should we… get coffee?

After pretending to weigh your options for a few seconds, you hum and nod your head. “그래.” Sure.

He brightens immediately, like a puppy given a treat, and the sight of his earnest happiness makes your heart beat faster. 

For a moment, you wonder what you’re really doing right now with him. Hanging out? Babysitting? Chauffeuring? Since when did your dynamic go from you chasing him around the playground to you chasing him around town? Well, maybe it doesn’t matter what you call it. You know you’ll follow him anywhere, or at least for the months leading up to his full recovery. 

You’re quick to fall in step with him when he finally takes off, probably toward whatever coffee shop is nearest. His stride is shorter due to the hinged knee brace attached to his left leg, so you slow down your steps to match his pace. 

The intense wind is making it hard to breathe through your nose, so you inhale the crisp night air through your mouth. As you exhale, your eye catches a rather large lamp post. It clearly obstructs the sidewalk. With the way you’re walking at a similar pace right next to each other, that’s bound to cause a problem. An accident-prone boy like him shouldn’t walk near the road and any weird poles.

Frowning, you gently grab his arm to try and maneuver him over to where the stores are. Although your arms strain, he doesn’t really budge. You tug a little harder. He tilts his head in confusion, but his body eventually moves in the direction of your insistent arm. 

You belatedly explain, “안 쪽으로 걸어. 위험하잖아.” Walk on the inside. It’s dangerous. 

Eyebrows raised, he blinks innocently for a few seconds, then nods slowly in understanding. He momentarily averts eye contact, choosing to randomly examine the signs of the stores across the street as he walks forward. 

You can hardly feel your face anymore from the wind and the cold, but you have to ask about how his training went. With frozen lips, you ask, “PT는 어땠어?” How was PT?

He responds quickly. “좋았어.” It was good.

You narrow your eyes at him. “진짜?” Really?

“어.” Yeah. He lets out a small puff of air, then sniffles. 

His nose is flushed like Rudolph, and the realization brings a slew of childhood memories. Like when you made fun of his red, runny nose while going sledding, and when he made fun of you right back for being unable to build a snowman. (He’d cried, complaining that his snot wasn’t something he could control. You’d cried too, complaining that you really could build the best snowman if your limbs weren’t numbed by the cold.)

You laugh, nudging his side with your right elbow. “춥지?” Cold?

Your right arm reflexively moves to loosely wrap around his shoulders, but you fall short, which is somewhat upsetting because you’ve never once miscalculated when you were kids. Your arm bends awkwardly while you try to accommodate for the height difference and the huge puffer jacket he’s wearing. In about two seconds, you give up pursuing his shoulders, and settle for wrapping your arm around his mid-back. 

It’s strangely familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. That is, to warm up his core with a half-hug, just like he used to do for you. Even back in elementary school, your mother said you had to take care of each other. So while you ran after him with bandages in the summer, he ran after you with hand warmers and mittens in the winter. 

After your arm comfortably finds its way around him, he leans into your touch. Maybe it’s because of the puffer, but he feels like a radiator. He wraps his warm left arm around your waist with ease, as if he’s done it dozens of times before—which he has, technically.

With a hint of satisfaction curling on his lips, he says, “이제 괜찮은데?” Now, I think I’m okay?

“Good,” you say with a content sigh. 

It really is important that he conserves his body heat. It would be horrible if he arrived back home with a cold. 

“Good!” He repeats the word cutely, with a thick Korean accent that cuts off the end of the last consonant. “요즘에 영어 좀 배운다고 했지?” You said you were learning English lately, right?

You shrug, averting eye contact as you try to avoid thinking about the virtual English tutoring sessions you’ve been having with your cousin, who lives in the States. It’s expected of you to know English if you’re going to apply to American law schools after college. 

“너 아직도 미국에서 일하고 싶어?” Do you still want to work in the US?

Your dry reply is automatic. “어.” Yeah. 

Maybe if you pretend that it’s what you want, it’ll really become what you want. Just maybe. But you don’t really have a choice in the matter, anyway. Half of your family lives in the States, working in the legal department of some stupid international company. It’s your duty to follow in their footsteps. To maintain your ranking at the top of your high school class, achieve a stellar CSAT score, get into a top university in Seoul, get accepted to a top American law school, get hired by Pleiades Corporation, and work for the rest of your life. 

When you didn’t qualify for the best high schools with your poor middle school grades, you thought your life was over. It was a miracle you even got a last chance at achieving the life expected of you through the college crap shoot, of which results are pending release in December and January. Your recollection of the past three years of high school is a grey blur of libraries and hagwons where you’d studied for hours on end. Your solace was in secretly reading web novels and, if you were lucky, eating malatang if cram school ended early. 

And while there certainly are worse lives to live, you have only ever experienced this one—this superficial yet somehow sharp life that claws shame deep into you in the name of filial piety and submission to authority and the wisdom that comes with more life experience. It’s a fate that many students around the nation are subject to, but its ubiquitous condition has not limited its impact. 

If the boy walking along your side doesn’t believe your claim about wanting to work in America, he doesn’t say anything about it. 

In fact, he doesn’t say anything at all. He’s become deep in thought, with the way that his eyes are trained on one place of empty space and how his left hand flexes every so often against your waist. He looks far away. 

You haven’t spoken for around a minute, and maybe you said that last word with a bit of attitude unconsciously, making him think that you were annoyed at him? Your heart sinks at the idea of making him feel bored or unwanted, accidentally or not. Whatever the reason, it does make sense that he’d be spacing out. You don’t really have any interesting stories to tell him. You’re not a funny person. You can’t help him fix his knee. All you really do is protect him from bumping into things. So you can’t hold his zoning out against him. Actually, you’ve never held anything against him—except for maybe leaving you all those years ago. 

…But he’s here now, and you forgive him, so does that immature resentment really matter anymore?

All of a sudden, he moves. He nods reverently at nothing in particular. As if observing a surrealist painting from a museum, you stare at him with fascination. The mole at the tip of his nose stands out even more with how red his face has gotten from the cold. What on Earth could he be thinking so seriously about? Is he going to ask you about the States again? Surely not? 

With a lopsided smile, he turns his gaze to you and says, “내가 알아봤던 커피샵이 있어, 언젠가 너랑 한번 같이 가고싶었던 곳. 어때? 괜찮아?” There’s a coffee shop I looked into, I wanted to go with you some time. What do you think? Are you okay with that?

There’s an odd weight to his words. It makes you slow down. Swallowing roughly, you search his body language for ounces of either superficiality or sincerity. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that he really is just talking about the café. But his sparkling eyes are framed with tense eyebrows. His smile is measured with restraint. He’s removed his hand from your waist, and he now grasps your right hand so tightly you can feel his warmth over the numbing cold. 

And then you know. You just know that he gets how you really feel. That he sees through the facade you’ve spent the last three years building. That he’s choosing not to talk about it because he can tell you don’t want to. That he cares about you. That he knows you, truly and deeply, like no one’s ever known you before. 

You nod, and he smiles. 

Radiantly, like the sun. Unabashedly, like he’s yours. His eyes are crinkled at the corners and his lips look so happy curled up and his cute little fangs are exposed and suddenly everything going wrong in your life escapes you. An unfamiliar smile—a long hidden, real, and raw one—takes hold of your wind-whipped face. Like an absolute maniac, or maybe a girl in love, you’re just beaming from ear to ear, and you can’t even stop it in the name of maintaining some semblance of normality upon finally approaching the café! And, well, why should you? It’s so special! Oh, it’s so special! To be taken to the café he spent his precious time finding for you…

A few more steps and he suddenly halts, double-checking the name of the place before he opens the front door. 

You almost run into him, but thankfully you stop right before tripping on his boot. The ordeal happens in about three seconds but it’s enough to decrease the shocking angle of that ridiculous smile on your face. You have to get a hold of yourself! Whatever happened to the calm, cool level head you’ve prided yourself for having throughout all of high school? 

“짠! 들어와,” he says with a sheepish look, opening the door with his hip. Ta-da! Come in.

No surprise, it’s a cozy small café. Enveloped in a blanket of warm air, you sniffle and sigh happily in relief. 

Although your right hand was a bit warmed up by his touch, your left and both of your uncovered ears were practically on the verge of falling off. You wouldn’t want it any other way, though. While you probably could’ve walked into a nearby shop instead of waiting outside, you didn’t want to be kicked out for loitering, since you couldn’t buy anything. Since your parents made you spend all your time studying, you didn’t have time for a job, and your meager allowance barely afforded your malatang cravings. After a week, you hardly had enough money on you for a small drink. 

You reluctantly let go of his hand as you follow him up to the counter, then stand somewhat awkwardly to the side as he orders. Hopefully, he’d make it quick. You’ll watch him drink his drink, and then you can usher him back home. He’s been out in the cold for far too long. 

After scanning the menu, he looks at you with such a tender gaze it makes your cheeks heat up. Why does he…? Does he even know that he’s been strangely intense these days? In the last week, you’ve almost had whiplash. Sometimes it seems as if he’s been here the entire time, and other times, it’s like he’s a total stranger whose inner thoughts are utterly unknown to you. 

He asks, “뭐 마실래? 나는⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅” What do you want? I want…

You shake your head and wave your right hand rapidly, trying to convey that you don’t need to drink anything, but he misses it, turning to the cashier instead.

“저는 바닐라 라떼 아이—어, 따뜻한 거로 하나 주시고요.” I would like a vanilla latte, ice—uh, hot, please. And—

He turns to you. “너는?” he asks, smiling at the sight of your protest. “알았어 내가 추천해줄게. 에스프레소 어때?” For you? Okay, I’ll recommend one for you. How about an espresso?

You shake your head again.

He murmurs, “별로야? 그러면⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅.” So-so? Then… 

He turns to the cashier again, then says, “바닐라 라떼 따뜻한 거 하나 만 주세요.” Please give me just one hot vanilla latte.

Before you can blink, he’s paying for the 7,400 won transaction, and asking you if you’re okay. “밖에 추운데 왜 서있었어?” Why were you just standing outside in the cold? 

You shrug, unable to really look at him, now that he’s gone and paid for your drink. 

Should you thank him? No, wait—he probably wants you to pay him back later, what are you thinking? It’s not like he sees you like a girl, you’re just one of his old friends. Besides, he has way too much on his plate for a silly romance. He has to re-learn how to use his left leg and re-learn how to study, now that he won’t be held to athlete standards during college admissions. To him, you’re probably just the too-serious, annoying mom friend. The forgettable one who’s only there because his mother assigned a buddy to him. She had consulted her best friend (your mother) about her fears that her son would trip on snow and fall down without anyone to help him. Even without the ACL injury, he’s the kind of guy that trips on air, so you definitely understood where her worries were coming from. 

But hey, even if you technically volunteered yourself to help your mom’s friend’s son, he definitely didn’t volunteer to get babysat by you every other day. It would be silly to think that any teenaged boy would enjoy getting supervised like a baby. If you were in his shoes, you’d probably be feeling suffocated by now, with all the attention on his leg. 

You sniffle. You should probably stop thinking and overcomplicating everything. Your hands are slowly regaining feeling, which is unnervingly tingly, so you rub them together for a few seconds. It’s a good distraction and a way to soothe the after effects of the cold. 

When you look back up at him, there’s a fold in between his eyebrows. He quickly grabs the receipt and motions for you to follow him to the back. 

As he walks, he stammers, “방가워, 만나서⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅.” It’s nice to see you… 

He hastily sits down by one of the tables, adjusting the position of his leg as he waits for you to get there. He’s taken the chair, so you’ll have to sit in the booth area. 

You scrunch your nose. Why does he keep saying the same greeting over and over again? He’s definitely being weird today. You frown, checking the clock on the opposite side of the café as you toss your backpack down on the booth cushion. You should be heading back soon. His mother will get worried. 

As you shuffle into the seat, you turn your gaze to him. He’s brought an arm up to his neck, rubbing it like he’s trying to find the right words to express his thoughts. It seems that his leg-shaking habit hasn’t changed since middle school, either. His right leg is popping up and down like dancing popcorn kernels.

As soon as you sit down, he bashfully admits, “나 지금 왜 이리 떨리니?” Why am I so nervous right now?

At that, you furrow your eyebrows. Did you hear him wrong? 

No, he definitely said that he was nervous. 

“왜?” The worry flies out of your mouth without you realizing it. Why?

Why would he be nervous? Your heart rate exponentially increases. Seriously, why on Earth would he be nervous? 

Did the MRI results come in? Is his knee in a good place for recovery? Is it bad? Has he been in a lot of pain, secretly? If the MRI came back badly, what did Dr. Kang have to say about it?

Did the doctor say he has to get surgery again, after all? She had said that if his knee didn’t improve with physical therapy, he might need to go through a second surgery. That would mean that physical therapy isn’t working, but that isn’t what he’s been claiming. He’s always waved it off, saying that PT went well. 

Is it possible that his physical therapist said the condition of his leg is worsening? Or maybe, has progress been stagnant, and he didn’t want to admit it? God, how much pain has been in?

Is he going to be okay? No, is he even okay right now?

As if still finding out the right words to use, he says one word before trailing off. “나⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅.” I…

He swallows thickly, eyebrows furrowed as if he’s hurt.

Wide-eyed, you search for fear in his eyes. Unable to take it anymore, you blurt something at the same time he finally spits it out. 

“너 어디 아파?” Are you hurt anywhere?

“나 너 좋아해.” I like you.

2016년 11월 12일 | 2016 November 12 (+1 year)

“와.” Wow. Jun speaks up first, glancing at Joshua with a wave of both secondhand embarrassment and jealousy. 

You get that a lot.

Joshua agrees, addressing your boyfriend with an unserious wiggle of his eyebrows. “아주 좋아 죽겠네, 좋아 죽겠어.” You really must love each other to death, you’re just dying to look at her.

He waves it off, speaking quickly. “나는 당당히 우리 멤버들에게 너를 만난다고 포게”—he halts momentarily, trying not to laugh at his verbal slip up—“소개하고 싶어.” In front of our members, I want to confidently droduce—introduce you as my girlfriend.

Upon hearing him stumble over his words, you can’t help but smile fondly. You were lucky to be going to the same college as him, and even more lucky that he found a family away from home in Sebong. He had coincidentally picked up dancing while rehabilitating his left knee, and as his stability grew better and better, dance became a passion for him. You’d expected him to try out for dance groups on campus, but you had no idea that he’d join such a close-knit 13-member community! 

Around the third week of the semester, when he had just passed auditions, he attended a congratulatory dinner with all the other Sebong members. That was when you saw Joshua, Jun, and a few other members for the first time. 

He pats your left thigh gently, then addresses Jun and Joshua. “인사해,” he tells them, saying your name. Say hi. “내 여자친구야. 옛날에 그때 우리 고기 먹으러 갔었을때 본 적 있지?” This is my girlfriend. You met her at the BBQ place a while ago, right?

“본 적 있지,” says Joshua with a strained smile, eyeing your boyfriend like he’s a weirdo. Which, to be fair, he totally is. A very sweet one.

Jun and Joshua look at each other and share a grin before sending a polite bow and wave your way. You bow slightly back in return, pressing your lips together as you contemplate what to say. It does feel a bit awkward to act formally in front of people you already know too much about, despite not having officially met. Well, it’s both a touch embarrassing and a touch entertaining. You’re pretending that your boyfriend hasn’t told you that Joshua is a crazy aquaphile and that Jun is an odd cat—and they’re pretending he hasn’t told them some strange story or another about you!

The entire team is famous for being funnier than the campus comedy group, so it’s not surprising that they immediately recruited your boyfriend, who takes jokes made at his expense quite well. (He’s complained to you before that they just make fun of him and then clap him on the back for responding well to their teasing, even though he tries not to react at all.) It’s all in good fun, though, because within a few months, Sebong has become almost as tightly knit as you and him are. 

“So, you’re from LA?” you ask Joshua.

He responds, “Yeah. Hey, your accent’s pretty good, how do you know English?”

“Half of my family lives in the States.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Oh, cool, where?”

“Queens.”

“Oh that’s nice. I’ve actually visited Manhattan before, but not Queens. Would you ever live there?”

You start to nod automatically, then freeze as you realize that you’ve done it again—mindlessly agreeing. You agree when your parents and neighbors and teachers say you’d be a good lawyer, and you confirm when friends and acquaintances ask if you’re planning on working in the States. Why is it that you just let other people think that your future is in law? God, what happened to your New Year’s resolution of figuring out whether you actually want to go abroad or not? Getting into a second-rate university already waters down your chances of getting into an American law school, but your family is still insistent on you going down that path.

If you didn’t do law, what would you do, anyway? You hated Math and Science in school. Korean, English, and History were technically more bearable. So it’s not like a career in science would be any more appealing or doable than pursuing law. And if you were to apply to jobs with an undergraduate degree in humanities, it’s not like you’d have a ton of stable options. The most obvious career paths fall into law or teaching, and you definitely can’t picture yourself being patient enough to handle teaching. It’s horrendous. To think—it’s your life, and you don’t even know what you want to do with it!

Why don’t you ever have anything to say when your family asks you what else you could even do if you didn’t do law? It would be more reasonable to hate their judgment if they denied some dream of yours—if they said you couldn’t be an elementary school teacher or a museum curator. But they haven’t, because you’ve never wanted anything like that, and you’ve certainly never asked. So why do you let this resentment silently build against them, when you can’t even express what you want? 

You hate this, being indecisive to the bone. You can’t breathe, under the weight of it all! All your life, your family has always made the decisions for you. You’ve never not followed their instruction. But now you’re an adult. Legally, you have the right to make your own decisions. So why can’t you do it? Under the weight of your uncertain future, your chest feels like a truck has crashed into it. A truck carrying the hopes and dreams you wish you could say you have, except you don’t have any dreams at all! No, nothing at all… why is that? 

And then it occurs to you, all at once, that you’re likely acting very oddly. Who freezes midway in a perfectly normal conversation? 

How many seconds of silence have passed? Has it been minutes? You should probably say something about now. Wait, what was it that he had said exactly? Oh, it doesn’t matter. Say something, anything, anything at all! Like… Yes, something, something like—

Something about…? Anything!

God, why can’t you think of anything? 

Your boyfriend clears his throat and suddenly stands up, jolting you out of your spiraling. He quickly taps on your back, and you numbly stand up as well. 

He says, “사실 우리 이제 가야 할 것 같아. 우연히 만나서 너무 반가운데 내일 연습실에 만나자!“ Actually I think we have to go right now. It’s so nice to meet you coincidentally but I’ll see you tomorrow at the practice room!

With that, he grabs your arm and drags you out of the restaurant. You hardly have a chance to breathe in the shuffle, not to mention say goodbye! 

When you finally make it outside, he acts like nothing odd happened at all.

“뭐야?” What was that? Bewildered, you stare at him with mild concern.

He shrugs, then quietly says, “그냥.” Just ‘cause.

You shake your head. Does he want you to say something? 

He rubs the back of his neck, then sheepishly says,“쉬 매려워.” I have to pee.

You narrow your eyes at him. He easily could have just gone into the restaurant bathroom. There was no logical reason for that whole fiasco. You were having a perfectly fine discussion with his American friend. No issues at all. 

“Okay?” you say reluctantly. 

You turn away from him to start walking along the sidewalk. You catch a glimpse of his face right before you do, and you swallow thickly. His casual words might have tried to mask it, but his worried gaze is obvious and unnecessarily burdensome. He has better things to be worried about. 

His next word stops you. “괜찮아?” Are you okay?

You blink rapidly, averting eye contact as you deflect. “너는?” Are you?

He breathes in deeply. Deeply enough that you can hear his steady inhale and controlled exhale. 

“와봐,” he says softly, then takes you in his arms. C’mere.

You protest at the sudden public display of affection. “뭐 하는 거야—” What are you doing—

“가만히 있어봐,” he scolds, wrapping his arms tighter around you. Hold still.

So you do. You hold still. 

You exhale shakily, and you let him hold you.

2017년 3월 15일 | 2017 March 15 (+1 year)

The east-end campus café isn’t usually so empty. It also doesn’t usually have a barista manning the counter two hours past closing. But today, it does, and you’re it’s lucky visitor. 

Your eyes scan appreciatively over the figure of a tall, slender guy carefully making drip coffee at the counter. 

“오! 커피 만들때 섹시한 남자!” Oh! A guy who looks sexy while making coffee!

Your boyfriend flushes, looking down shyly as you call out unabashedly at him. “쉿!” Shh!

“아무도 없는데 뭐,” you say with a pout. There’s no one around anyway. 

He giggles, and the sound is like a musical chime to your ears. “알겠어, 알겠어.” Okay, okay. 

Today is White Day, but you haven’t been able to see him until tonight. He’s been busy with rehearsals for the upcoming dance showcase, and you’ve been bogged down with papers for your history courses. The essays definitely are crying out for help, but they can wait.

He places the coffee mug down with a flourish of his hands, and you can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous it is. He bites his lip apprehensively as you take your first sips. At the taste of the clean roast, you widen your eyes and give him a thumbs up.

“괜찮아?” Is it okay?

“맛있어,” you say assuredly. Tastes good.

He breathes a sigh of relief, and you laugh at the sight of the worry between his brows smoothening. 

“이게 뭐, 큰 일이야?” you joke. What is this, a big deal?

“어,” he deadpans, then giggles again. His fangs peek adorably out. “바리스타의 진심.” Yes, a barista’s honest work. 

Sarcastically overly indulgent, you say, “음, 그래 그래.” Mmh, yes yes.

You reach across the counter to pat him on the, congratulating him like you would an ecstatic golden retriever that captured a frisbee. “아이구, 우리 규 잘했네!” Aigoo, our Gyu did so well!

He withdraws slightly to show you his exaggerated pout, which you press a fleeting kiss to. 

He smiles brightly as you take another sip of the mug. When his phone buzzes, you remember about the scam in his DMs that he texted you a photo of earlier that morning.

You clear your throat. “Hey, did you talk to that guy?”

“누구?” Who?

“알잖아, 그 modeling agent.” You know, the modeling agent.

“어?” Huh? He purses his lips in confusion before registering the English words. “아, 그 그캐스팅 매니저?” Oh, the casting manager?

You raise your eyebrows. He’s suddenly gotten tense. 

“왜? 그 사람이 뭐라고 말했는데? 설마 모델을 하레?” Why? What did that person say? No way, did he ask you to model?

He nods slowly. 

You raise your eyebrows and clap excitedly. “헐… 스캠인줄! 뭐라고 대답했는데?” Wow… I thought it was a scam! What did you say?

“생각 해본다고…” That I’d think about it…

“생각할 것이 뭔데?” What’s there to think about?

“캐스팅이 우리가 데트 잡았던 날이라서,” he says. The casting date is for when we planned our date. 

You wave your hand at him insistently. “Reschedule 하면 되잖아.” We can just reschedule. 

He nods slowly, contemplative. 

You can’t help a smile. It’s cute that he’s so worried. Come on, what’s the harm in pushing back a date? He should go for his career!

2025년 3월 15일 | 2025 March 15 (+10 years)

Lee Dokyeom checks all the boxes.

For one, he’s genuinely kind. He’s polite to waiters and tips well. He holds the door open to every establishment he enters and exits for at least ten strangers. He asks about the little happenings in your life. He’s also financially stable, so he can afford to take you to all the sites you’ve never seen. He seems to be effortlessly happy, all the time. Even during breaks in conversation, he tends to have a goofy smile spread across his face. The nickname your closest friend has assigned him, “Happy Virus,” is an apt description. He’s so straightforward with his affection, you never have to guess what he’s thinking—he makes it clear that you’re the only person on his mind. 

“He’s perfect! He’s marriage material!” exclaims your roommate Minsi, her loud voice standing out amongst the buzz of other conversations in this café. She waves her hand in an accusatory fashion at you. 

You stifle a laugh. Her seat is directly across the table from you, which is so small that there’s hardly a need for such large hand motions. Nevertheless, Minsi is Minsi. Her index finger flashes outward, nearly striking your nose with how close it is to your face. 

You don’t move, though, instead opting for a frown. “I don’t know,” is all you can manage to say in reply.

She tsks, clicking her tongue in a rather annoying way. “If you don’t know, who knows?”

You grimace. “Okay, 아줌마.” Okay, ahjumma.

“What are we gonna do about you?” she asks rhetorically, shaking her head in mock concern. “Come on, how are you supposed to get to know the love of your life if you’re not putting yourself out there?”

“Dokyeom is hardly the love of my life,” you scoff. 

“아니, 왜?” she groans. But, why? “You’ve gone on like, one date with him. How do you know for sure?”

You defend, “Whenever I hear wedding stories, they always say, ‘oh, I knew on the first date, I knew he was the one,’ whatever. But what I’m saying is, I didn’t. I didn’t feel it, so he can’t be the one! How is the logic any different?”

Minsi stirs her iced tea with disapproval, pinching the straw with her thumb and pointer fingers. She scrunches her nose, tilting her chin upward as she tries to coax you to change your mind. 

“Come on, this is the closest anyone’s ever got! It’s a miracle you even gave him your number. I half-thought he was going to faint before you finished typing it into his phone.”

You faintly wince, recalling the way Dokyeom had walked up to you that day. “Yeah…”

Sure, people have come up to you at clubs and bars and restaurants, but a used bookstore? That was new. What’s more, while most of the people who have hit on you were more or less masters of the pick up craft, the same certainly could not be said for the trembling man. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that he was shaking like a leaf when he asked what book you were looking at. What was running through your mind as you processed that pick-up line of his: “Could I ask what book you’re reading, if that’s okay?”

You exhale deeply, closing your eyes as you remember the fiasco vividly, as if it happened just hours ago. Just one look at his sparkling eyes and flustered body language, and you’d clocked him as the sweet and innocent type. The kind of guy who wants to make people laugh and has a major case of people pleasing, judging by the way he’d tripped on his words and stammered that he could just go away if you wanted. 

“Well,” you open your eyes with a sigh, “you saw him.”

His eager but unsure approach gave you a wave of deja vu. His behavior was similar to that of a curious puppy—cute enough to warrant a warm reply, at the very least. As expected, after a few minutes of small talk, he bashfully asked if he could get to know you better. 

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad,” she laughs. 

“Mmh.” You don’t disagree, but you don’t exactly voice your agreement either. 

You shake your head, thinking back to Minsi’s reaction when it first happened. At the other end of the science fiction aisle, she’d strongly eyed you down, as if it would be stupid not to accept. If not for her advocacy, you might have turned him down. But, then again, you can’t entirely put the blame on her. It’s not like you’d lacked a will of your own. It had been a long time since you met someone with such a happy-go-lucky personality. 

Somewhere between his stuttering and fumbling, your eyes saw double, a subconscious part of your brain diverging from the main conversation to chase after memories starting from a decade ago. Recollections of laughter-filled late night coffee runs and fleeting touches from accidental meetings. Echoes of love and pain. 

And maybe it was cruel to give Dokyeom your number because he reflected a ghost from the past, but if you were honest about your intentions—which you were, you’d made it very clear that you wanted to take things slow, post-breakup—what harm could it do? At this point in your life, you thought you might as well see where any vaguely romantic exchange could go. 

But after going on one date with him, you left feeling more awkward than excited. 

“I don’t know.” You press your lips together for a few seconds, wondering how best to explain this to her. “He’s decent, but I just don’t feel anything click, y’know?”

“Why?”

You sigh. “I just feel like he might be a bit overcautious about everything. I mean, asking before skinship is one thing, but asking for permission to ask about my favorite ramen brand is another. Why does he have to ask two questions to make a single point? Plus, he sent me three super long texts about how much he thought we connected, and I just… didn’t feel that. There was zero chemistry, so I have no idea where he’s getting that from.”

Recognition dawns on Minsi. She claps, then says, “Oh, right, this is what you were talking about earlier.” She waves her hand with a silly smile. “Come on, he’s just a Consent King. Maybe he was afraid of the convo dying, or something.” 

You can’t help but laugh at the nickname, then groan as you contemplate reliving that. 

“Aw, aren’t you being too hard on him?” she insists, then sips on her tea. “Based on what you’re saying, I really don’t think he’s that bad.” 

The volume of your voice increases. “You don’t get it. It was like he memorized a list of first date questions and jokes!”

“Hey, give the man a break,” she says, laughing again. “He was probably just super nervous.”

You shake your head, murmuring, “Honestly…” 

Another sigh escapes your mouth. Who knows, maybe you’re the weird one looking down on a supposed “nice guy” in the wild. 

“Well, what’s the final verdict, then?” Minsi asks, yawning as she stirs her half-empty tea cup. “Are you finally going to tell me what’s wrong with Mr. Right? Come on, you met him on White Day, that’s so romantic!”

“Just because I gave him my number, doesn’t mean I’m going to marry him,” you finally say dryly, exhaling roughly at the thought of reliving that first date. 

“Okay, but since when do you do that? You never do that!” she retorts. 

You blink silently, wondering what to say in return. It’s true, you’re not usually one to give your number out. 

Then again, not every stranger who hits on you reminds you of what you once had.

She raises her eyebrows. “Maybe it’s because you saw something in him, subconsciously.”

You freeze awkwardly, then force a laugh. Fidgeting with the rings adorning your left index and middle fingers, you try to pass your behavior off as a sarcastic reaction to her obnoxious facial expressions. God, she knows you a little too well. 

“뭐래.” What are you on about? Defensively, you look down at your rings and blurt, “You know I’m over him.”

When you raise your head, there’s a glint of sadness in Minsi’s eyes, and her lips have curled downwards into a sympathetic frown. 

“I didn’t say that,” she says softly. 

You swallow roughly, averting eye contact again. 

Unfortunately, you were never the subtle type, and Minsi is the most perceptive person you know. And to some, it might seem strange that your friend is pushing so hard for you to start dating again. In fact, she’s probably more desperate for you to get a partner than you are. But if the scripts were flipped, maybe you’d be trying hard to set her up too. 

It’d be pretty shocking if your hopeless-romantic best friend suddenly broke up with her long-term boyfriend for “mutual reasons,” then stayed single for almost half a decade.  

You still haven’t told her the truth about why you really accepted Dokyeom’s advances that day. Mostly because you’re too ashamed to even bring your ex’s name up, since you’ve always insisted that you’re over him. Minsi doesn’t need to know that you check up on him once in a while, or that his mom still sends you greeting cards every holiday. 

And considering your reaction to that first date with Dokyeom, stepping back into the infinitesimal dating pool seems so futile. 

Five years post-breakup, your ex is probably traveling the world as a model—likely dating someone new, too. (Although you wouldn’t know about his dating life, because you ended up blocking him on every social media platform two weeks after the break up to focus on working. That’s what you told yourself, at least.) Meanwhile, you’re sitting in your hometown coffee shop with the same best friend you had 10 years ago, who keeps insisting that you download Hinge again. 

What are the odds that you will ever find anyone who makes you feel like he did? Considering that you haven’t found anyone new in the past five years, it seems like your last relationship might really be the last one. 

You swallow thickly, stiffening your back as you contemplate your loveless future. 

“Maybe I’m done,” you say with a defeated sigh. “Maybe, this is it for me.” 

“야, 그런 말 좀 하지마!” Minsi scowls. Hey, don’t say that! “Why are you pushing Mr. Happy Virus away? I don’t get it. I’m telling you, your perfect man is right there, and he wants to go out with you!”

You wrinkle your nose. Your “perfect man,” really?

“Is he, though?” you retort. You slump forward, then set your elbow down against the table to rest your heavy head against it. “Is he the perfect man for me? Maybe he’s the perfect man for someone else, y’know? Come on, Mins, I feel like he doesn’t even know me.”

“Well, how is he supposed to know you if you don’t go out with him?” she says matter-of-factly, narrowing her eyes at your slouching figure.

At that, you’re at a loss for words. 

Well, she’s technically right.

Masterlist

Author's Note: hv u ever seen a 8k word teaser? uh me neither but it's literally been in the works since april so #habituallyiscomingsoonipromise!!

full playlist: Tear the Roof with a High Kick (Tear the Roof with a High Kick OST), Some (Soyou), Juna (Clairo), ONLY (LeeHi), You are my Girl (Tear the Roof with a High Kick OST), Fear (Seventeen), Moth to a Flame (The Weeknd), Once Again (Descendants of the Sun OST), Habit (Seventeen), back to friends (sombr), Someday, the Boy (Itaewon Class OST), Drowning (Woodz), I Miss You (Goblin OST), It's You (Ali Gatie), Still With You (Jungkook), Sudden Shower (Lovely Runner OST)

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!