waddling in as a silent reader... i've been so, so obsessed with look after you :(( the way you write that vernon is just so beautiful, i hope you write more alpha!vernon (or just vernon) in the future >< no pressure, my english isn't the best :')
there's just something about it that fills my heart, thank you for writing and portraying him so beautifully fatima !! i think about him time to time, and i constantly find myself reading look after you again and again °^° through the simple nights and the bad days, this vernon never stops running through the back of my mind, maybe i'm just too attached to that vernon.. but it brought me so much comfort that i wrote one of my sociology research papers loosely based off his personality traits and mannerisms +-+
i'm so sorry for the word vomiting.. but please never stop writing ^ oĂo ^
â nonver anon ><
This is such a sweet askâŠ. SnifflesâŠ. Thank you so much for the praise, this truly means a lot and i had no idea that fic could be soooo impactful. Im thrilled and i read this ask like three times it made my heart feel so full â„ïžâ„ïžâ„ïž
Summary:Â It is one of those days when you and Seungcheol are both working from home. Notoriously, no work gets done on days like this one.
Word count:Â 6.6k
Genres/warnings:Â smut, pwp (plot? what plot?); non-idol au, loser!nerd!perv!seungcheol, established relationship, honestly i can stop at pwp, cheol is a simp and we're not surprised; lmk if i skipped anything important
Smut warnings:Â Minors DNI, thicc dicc!cheol, implied size difference, dirty talk (of course), slow piv sex, unprotected (this is how we roll here; but please be safe irl), creampie, they continue being horndogs, reader takes charge, light hints of pet play; oral (f rec), face sitting, some brief hand job (m. rec), orgasm denial/control, edging, kinda ruined orgasm, cheol is down bad as always, he's sweetly pathetic, reader is on the phone with her manager when cheol fucks her (oops, don't do it irl kids); see anything i missed? please lmk
A/N: everyone say thank you, seungcheol for that live he held. it gave me the idea of writing a full scene of what i only mentioned briefly in the main fic, though the action here takes place after the main story. as always, enjoy your read and iâll be happy to see your feedback in any form youâre comfortable with: comments, asks or reblogs. and i will see you in my next fic á̫̀
You can read it separately but I would recommend reading all of it for the full experience of this couple :)
If you see any mistakes: I try to proofread but English isnât my first language, proceed at your own discretion.
Masterlist. | PART 1
Seungcheol is forty-seven minutes deep into this video call and he has absorbed precisely none of it. His manager's voice comes through the headset like a monotone hum. He can swear this woman's voice is designed to sandpaper the edges of his sanity. On screen, a grid of eight faces, all feigning attention, and his own small rectangle in the corner shows a man who hasn't blinked in thirty seconds because he's too busy tracking a silhouette moving past the doorway.
That's you. Just a flicker of movementâbare legs, the hem of an oversized t-shirt he knows is his, the soft grey one you stole three months ago and never gave backâand his concentration detonates. His cock twitches against his thigh, a slow, traitorous swell that has nothing to do with whatever the hell his manager is droning on about.
Seungcheol leans back in his chair, the springs groaning under his weight, and tilts his head just enough to catch a sliver of the kitchen through the gap in the doorframe. You're at the counter now, back to him, reaching to open the microwave. The t-shirt stretches, outlining the curve of your butt. Suddenly, the fabric rides up as you tiptoe to grab something from the cupboard above and the very bottom of your ass peeks out, bare and soft-looking, and he has to swallow a sound that would get him fired.
"âand moving forward, I think we need to restructure our code reviews which are taking two days on average," his manager drones, and Seungcheol wants to scream. Fuck them code reviews. He's going to lose his mind. He's going to combust in this ergonomic chair and they'll find him as nothing but a pile of ash and a half-hard dick.
His fingers drum against the armrest. He risks another glance. You're bent over now, rummaging in the fridge, and the t-shirt has ridden up so high he can see the crease where your thigh meets your ass. Seungcheol knows exactly how that crease tastes. He knows the sound you make when he presses his tongue flat against it and drags upward. He knows the way you shudder, the way your hand fists in his hair, the way you always whisper his name in a mix of a curse and a prayer.
Fuck. His cock is fully hard now, a rigid line trapped in his sweatpants and boxer briefs in a way that's becoming painful. He shifts in his seat, trying to find relief, and accidentally knocks his knee against the underside of his desk with a dull thud that makes his microphoneâthat he forgot to muteâspike.
"You okay there, Seungcheol?" His manager's voice cuts through, and for one horrifying second his heart stops. But he quickly realises that it's just the noise that drew her attention. Just the thud.
"Yeah, fine," he says, and his voice comes out strained, a little too tight. "Justâhit my knee on the table."
He mutes himself. Lets out a breath that shakes. Rubs his palm over his face and tries to think about spreadsheets. Deadlines. Anything except you currently being in the kitchen or the way you looked this morning when you rolled out of bed, hair a disaster, his t-shirt swallowing you, and kissed him on the forehead before padding to the bathroom. Domestic shit. Soft, sweet, married-couple shit that still makes his chest ache even now, months in, even after everything.
It's worse now. That's the thing. He thought it would level outâthe insatiable, clawing need that's been devouring him since that first drunk night on the couch. He thought once the novelty wore off, once you'd had each other in every conceivable position on every conceivable surface, the fever would break and you'd settle into something manageable. Normal.
It didn't.
It got so much worse.
Last Friday, for instance. You both worked from home. By his generous estimate, you managed three hours of actual productivity between you. The rest of the day dissolved into a blur of skin and sweat and the obscene, wet sound of his cock sliding into you over and over. He bent you over your desk during what was supposed to be a fifteen-minute coffee break and didn't pull out for forty-five. You sucked him off under his desk during a monthly team call on Google Meet, his teeth sinking into his fist and leaving marks just to keep from moaning into an unmuted mic, his eyes watering with restraint of not rolling back into his skull. Seungcheol fucked you against the hallway wall on the way to the bathroom, one hand clamped over your mouth, your legs wrapped around his waist, your nails carving trenches into his shoulders through his shirt. By the end of the day you couldn't walk straight. Neither could he. You ordered pizza and ate it cross-legged on the floor of your living room, half-naked, feeding each other slices and communicating with humms and grunts because forming full thoughts and voicing them felt like mission impossible. And then he got hard again just from watching you lick grease off your thumb, and you let him lay you back on the soft carpet and fill you up again, until you were both too wrecked to move.
So yeah. It didn't level out. It metastasised.
And now it's Tuesday, and he's been on this call for almost an hour, and you are a room away, in the kitchen, heating up leftovers, and his entire body is humming with want. He can smell you from here. He swears he canâthat faint, familiar scent of your body wash and underneath it, the warm scent of your skin that makes his mouth water and his brain go syrupy and stupid.
"âso if everyone could have their reports in by Thursday," his manager is saying, finally, mercifully, "that would be great. Any questions? No? Great. Thanks, everyone."
The call ends. Seungcheol doesn't even say goodbye. He yanks the headset off, tosses it onto his desk, and is out of the bedroom before his chair stops spinning.
You hear him coming. He's not particularly secretive about his arrivalâthe heavy, purposeful tread of a man who spends too much time at the gym and hasn't learned to move quietly in a shared apartment. But you don't turn around. You're standing at the counter, reaching for the microwave handle, when his arms wrap around you from behind and his body folds over yours like a collapsing star.
He's so big. That's the first thing you register, the same thing you register every timeâthe sheer, enveloping mass of him. His chest presses against your back, solid and warm through the thin fabric of yourâhisât-shirt. His arms circle your waist, thick and possessive, and his face buries into the crook of your neck with a sound that can only be described as a whimper.
"You're done?" you ask, not bothering to hide the amusement in your voice.
"Finally," he mumbles against your skin. His lips move as he speaks, brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear, and you have to suppress a shiver. "Thought she was never going to shut up. I was losing my mind."
"Yeah, I could hear her from here. That voice is something else. Like a sadistic lullaby."
Seungcheol huffs a laugh, his breath warm and damp against your throat. "It's not funny. I was suffering."
"Poor baby." You tilt your head, giving him more access without thinking, your body responding to his proximity the way it always doesâon instinct, on autopilot, like your nerve endings have been rewired to recognise him as a primary need. Purely Pavlovian response. "My heart bleeds for you and your very important corporate meeting."
"Don't be mean." He pouts. You can't see his face but you know he's poutingâyou can hear it in the way his voice goes soft and petulant, the way his lower lip juts out. "I missed you."
"I was literally a wall away."
"That's a wall too far."
The microwave beeps. You reach for it again, but Seungcheol's hand catches yours first. His fingers slide between yours, locking them together, and he pulls your hand back down, pressing it flat against the counter top. His other hand slips under the hem of your shirt and settles on your lower belly, palm warm and broad and possessive.
"Food can wait," he murmurs.
You open your mouth to argue, to tease him about being a needy, insufferable menace, but then his palm presses down. Just a little. Just enough to apply pressure, to make you aware of the heat pooling low in your abdomen, of the way your body responds to him on a level that has nothing to do with conscious thought. An involuntary sound escapes your throatâsmall, breathy, embarrassingâand you feel your pussy clench around nothing.
"That's what I thought," he says, and there's a smile in his voice now, satisfied and soft and infuriating.
His lips find the junction of your neck and shoulder. He kisses you there, slow and open-mouthed, and then his teeth graze your skin and you stop breathing for a second.
"Cheol."
"Mm?"
"You're doing that thing."
"What thing?" He does it againâa gentle scrape of teeth, followed by the wet, soothing press of his tongueâand your knees go weak.
"That thing where youâwhere you turn me intoâ" You can't finish the sentence. His lips have found a new spot, just above your collarbone, and he's sucking a bruise into existence with the kind of focused intensity he usually reserves for boss fights in Elden Ring. Your brain fills with static. Your hands grip the edge of the counter. "âinto aâfuck."
"Into a what?" He pulls back just long enough to speak, his voice low and rough and dripping with false innocence. "Use your words, baby."
"I hate you."
"No you don't." Kiss. Bite. Suck. "You love it. You love when I make you all dumb and shaky. When I take my time and turn you into a little mess before I've even touched you properly." Another kiss, this one pressed to the shell of your ear. "I know you're clenching even without touching you, baby. You think I'm not aware? Oh, I am. I know your body better than I know my own at this point."
You think of saying something sharp, to cut through the haze and reassert some semblance of control. But Seungcheol is right. He does know your body. He's spent months mapping every inch of it with his hands and his mouth and his cock, learning every spot that makes you gasp, every rhythm that makes you fall apart. And right now, with his palm still pressing on your lower belly and his lips trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, the only thing your brain can produce is a stream of increasingly pathetic sounds.
You think, distantly, about the irony of it. Months ago you called him a loser to your friend. You rolled your eyes at his compression shirts and his anime figures and his inability to talk to women. And now here you are, melting into a puddle of need because he's kissing your neck and breathing on you. Your friends have noticed, of course. Because you can't exactly hide it. You walk into every brunch, every cafe meetup, wearing the unmistakable glow of a woman who's getting thoroughly, regularly, devastatingly fucked. Loud and proud as they say.
Seungcheol's fingers have trailed lower while you were lost in thought. They're resting on the waistband of your underwear now, tracing the elastic edge with a maddening lightness that makes your hips twitch.
"Mmm, bet you're so wet already," he murmurs, and you can hear the satisfaction in his voice, the smug, reverent delight. "I haven't even done anything and you're soaking through your panties, aren't you? What am I going to do with you?"
"I don't know," you manage, your voice coming out embarrassingly breathy. "Maybe actually fuck me instead of just talking about it?"
"Impatient." He nips at your earlobe. "I like it."
His fingers dip lower, pressing against you through the damp cotton of your underwear and finding his theory to be true. The pressure is light, teasing, nowhere near enough, and you can feel your pussy clenching and throbbing again, desperate for more, desperate for anything. Behind you, pressed against the curve of your ass, his cock is a hard, insistent weight. He's been half-hard since the call startedâyou could guess from the way he was squirming in his chair, the way his eyes kept cutting toward the kitchenâbut now he's fully erect, thick and hot even through the layers of his sweatpants and your t-shirt that barely covers your ass anymore. He rocks against you, a slow, deliberate grind, and the friction makes you both groan.
"Thought about this the whole call," he says, his voice dropping into that lower register that makes your stomach flip. "Thought about bending you over this counter. Thought about pulling these little panties to the side and sliding into you while you're still trying to heat up your stupid breakfast leftovers. Thought about filling you up so full you'd be leaking me all afternoon while you sit in your meetings pretending to be a professional."
"That'sâ" You swallow, hard. "That's what you were thinking about? During a work call?"
"Every second." Seungcheol grinds against you again, and this time you can feel the full length of him, the girth that still makes your mouth water even after all these months. "Couldn't focus. Couldn't think about anything except your tight little cunt and how bad I need to be inside it. How bad I need to use it."
He says that and lets out a shameful pathetic mewl.
The word "use" and the desperate sound that escapes him land in your chest and detonate. You know what he's doingâhe's working you up, talking filth the way he knows you like, the way that makes you weak and pliant and ready to let him do anything. And normally you would let him. Normally you would let him spin you around, bend you over, and fuck you stupid right here against the kitchen counter, and you would come apart on his cock and thank him for it afterwards.
But thanks to his little pathetic display you're feeling something else. Something sharper. Seungcheol spent an hour squirming in his chair thinking about using you? Fine. But you spent that same hour catching glimpses of him in his stupid soft flannel shirt, his hair messy, his brows furrowed, his plush lips wrapped around his water bottle, and you've been simmering with your own kind of want. And maybe it's the oncoming ovulation hormones, or maybe it's the way he whimpered when he first wrapped his arms around you and mewled just now, but something in you decides that today, you're not going to be the one who gets reduced to a mindless, begging mess.
Today, that's going to be him.
His fingers have slipped under the waistband of your panties now, tracing through your slick folds with a slow, exploratory pressure that makes your breath hitch. He's about to push insideâyou can feel the tension in his wrist, the way his breathing has gone ragged against your neckâwhen you reach around with your free hand and squeeze his cock through his sweatpants.
Hard.
Seungcheol makes a sound you've never heard before. A choked, strangled yelp that's half surprise and half something else entirely. His whole body jerks against you, his hips bucking into your grip, and his fingers freeze where they are.
"Whatâ" he starts, but you squeeze again, and the word dissolves into a whimper.
"Here's what's going to happen, baby," you say, and your voice comes out breathless but somewhat steady. "You're going to take your hand out of my panties. You're going to get on your knees. And you're going to do exactly what I tell you. Got it, hmm?"
Seungcheol doesn't answer immediately. His chest is heaving against your back, his cock throbbing in your grip, and you can feel the war happening inside himâthe instinct to take over, to reclaim control, wrestling with the part of him that loves this, the part that goes soft and eager and desperate when you turn the tables.
"Got it?" you repeat, and you twist your wrist just enough to make him gasp.
"Yeah," he breathes, voice going a little higher than usual. "Yeah, okay. Got it."
"Good boy."
The words hit him like a physical blow. You feel the full-body shudder that runs through him, the way his cock kicks against your palm, the way his breathing goes even more ragged and uneven. He pulls his hand out of your panties slowly, reluctantly, and you release your grip on him just long enough for him to step back.
"Strip," you say as soon as you turn around to see him.
He does. He pulls his t-shirt over his head first, revealing the broad expanse of his chest, the thick shoulders and defined pecs, the trail of dark hair that runs down his stomach and disappears into the waistband of his sweats. Then his pants go, pushed down over his hips, and his boxers with them, until he's standing naked in the middle of the kitchen with his cock jutting up toward his belly, flushed dark at the tip and already leaking.
You take a moment to look at Seungcheol. It never gets oldâthe sheer size of him, the thickness, the way his cock curves just slightly, so pretty. The way it twitches under your gaze like it's begging for attentionâand you bet it is. The way his balls hang heavy and full, a reminder that he hasn't come since yesterday morning, which in his case means he's already backed up and desperate and so, so easy to break.
"You're so pretty," you murmur, and you mean it. "Look at you. Standing there dripping for me. Such a desperate pathetic mess already and I haven't even touched you."
His cock gives you an eager reaction, twitching and bobbing up and down at your words, and you smile at how it throbs, almost like it's whining and jumping for you to touch it. Seungcheol's ears go red. That very deep, mortified flush that you've been watching since the very first night, except now it makes your chest ache with something tender and possessive instead of irritated. "Babyâ"
"On your knees," you order softly, lips stretched in the sweetest of smiles.
He drops so fast you hear his knees hit the tile. You wince, breaking character just for a moment, worried, but Seungcheol doesn't seem to care at all, he is looking up at you with those big brown eyes, pupils blown wide, lips parted, and he is so fucking wreckable in this very moment that it makes your pussy clench and you don't even notice as you slip back into the little play the two of you are orchestrating.
"Please," he whispers, and he doesn't even know what he's asking for. He just knows he needs something, anything, as long as it is from you.
"Please what?" you hum, watching his eyes turn even shinier than before. He's so pretty like this it is unfair. Not for the first time he's giving you aggression urges.
"Please let me taste you. Need to put my mouth on you. I've been thinking about it all morningâthinking about how you taste, how soft and warm you feel on my tongueâplease, baby? I need itâ"
"Shh." You step forward, close enough that he can smell you againâhis nostrils visibly flare when he silently inhales youâand you can feel his exhale ghost against your thighs. "I know. I know you've been a desperate little puppy all morning, couldn't even pay attention to your stupid meeting because you were too busy thinking about my pussy. Isn't that right?"
He nods, frantic, his hands twitching at his sides like he's physically restraining himself from grabbing you. You wouldn't mind if he did, to be fair. "Yes. Yes, that's right. Couldn'tâcouldn't think about anything else. Just you. Just your sweet pussy. Just how bad I wanted to be inside it." He whimpers and squirms on his knees, and his cock twitches again at the image growing vivid in his head.
"And instead you're on your knees." You reach down, thread your fingers through his hair, and tugânot hard enough to hurt, only to tilt his head back and make him look at you. "Because you're not in charge right now. I am. And I decide when you get to touch me. I decide when you get to cum. Understood?"
"Understood." His voice is wrecked already, and you haven't even started.
"Good." You release his hair and hop up onto the edge of the counter, spreading your legs. "Now be a good boy and get to work."
You pat your thigh and Seungcheol doesn't need to be told twice. His hands find your thighs, tugging your underwear off with urgent impatience before spreading you wider to make room, and then his mouth is on you and the world dissolves into sensation for both of you.
Seungcheol eats pussy like he's been starving for years and you're the first meal he's been served. His tongue is broad and wet and relentless, licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit with a pressure that makes your hips immediately buck against his face. He genuinely moans when he tastes you, like the flavour of your arousal is the best thing he's ever experiencedâand the vibration against your clit sends a shockwave up your spine, makes your soles tingle and toes curl.
"Fuck," you breathe, one hand bracing against the counter, the other fisting in his hair. "That's it. That'sâright thereâ"
He stays there. His tongue circles your clit in slow, deliberate strokes, and then his lips close around it and he sucks, and your vision whites out for a second, an involuntary squeal leaving your mouth.
"Oh my godâ" you pant, voice getting strained and high-pitched with pleasure.
He hums against you, pleased, and the vibration makes you jolt again. His hands are gripping your thighs hard enough to leave marks, holding you open for him, and his tongue keeps working you in a rhythm that's devastatingly precise. He knows exactly what you like. Of course he does. He's spent months learning your body like a language, and now he's fluent.
But you're not going to let him make you come just yet. You tug on his hair, pulling him back, and he looks up at you with his face slick and shining, his lips swollen and wet, his eyes hazy and half-lidded with want.
"Why'd you stop me?" he whines. "I wasn't done. You taste so good, baby, please let me finishâ"
"Because I want to sit on your face."
His eyes go wide. Then darken. His cock, which has been bobbing neglected against his stomach, twitches and throbs visibly, a fresh bead of precum welling at the tip.
"Fuck," he whispers. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I want that. Please."
"Get on the floor then."
He lies down on the kitchen tiles without a shred of dignity, his cock standing up like a flagpole, his chest heaving. You slide off the counter and stand over him for a moment, looking down at the picture he makesâthis big, muscular man, sprawled on the cold floor, looking up at you like you're the sun and the moon and every star in the sky, his cock leaking all over his own stomach.
"You're so pathetic," you tell him, and you mean it as the highest compliment.
"I know," he breathes. "I'm your pathetic little puppy. Now pleaseâplease sit on my face. I need your cunt on my tongue. Need you to smother me with your sweet pussy, baby."
Gosh, you both are so fucking nasty for each other, you chuckle and lower yourself down, kneeling carefully over his head. The first contact of his tongue against your pussy makes you both groanâhim from the taste, you from the sensation of his mouth working you open while you settle your full weight onto him. Your thighs bracket his head, and his hands come up to grip your ass, guiding you, pulling you down harder, to sit your entire weight on him.
You let Seungcheol work for a while. Let his tongue fuck into you, let his lips close around your clit, let him moan and whimper against your flesh while you rock your hips in slow, lazy circles. But you have other plans for him, so you twist just enough to reach back, your hand finding his cock where it's standing rigid and neglected.
The sound he makes when you wrap your fingers around him is muffled by your pussy, and you feel the desperate, broken groan that vibrates through your entire body. You stroke him slowly, from base to tip, your thumb swiping over the slick, swollen head to collect the precum that's been pooling there just to massage his frenulum and make the man twitch and jerk his hips uncontrollably, losing all pace of his oral ministrations.
"Look at you," you murmur, looking down at him. "So hard for me. So wet. You're dripping all over yourself. Such a pretty mess, hmm."
He can't answer. His mouth is full of your cunt, his tongue buried inside you, and all he can do is whine and buck his hips into your grip, either encouraging or just sensitive.
"Is this what you wanted? When you were sitting in your meeting with your cock all hard and aching? You wanted to be on your back on the kitchen floor, being used like a toy?"
Seungcheol nods frantically, his nose bumping against your clit, and the sensation makes you gasp.
"That's what I thought. You're nothing but a dumb mutt when I get my hands on you. What a sight, huh? A big, strong man reduced to a whimpering mess on the floor. Your friends have no idea, do they? Do they think you're this alpha male now? That you're the cool guy of the group after you bagged me, hmm?â You apply more weight onto his face and Seungcheol groans against you, soft tongue licking deeper into your heat, coaxing a moan out of you. "Should we let them know that you actually love getting on your knees for me? Love being a good puppy for me?"
You twist your wrist on the upstroke, and his hips stutter, his cock pulsing in your grip. He's close. You can feel it in the way his thighs are tensing, the way his breathing has gone ragged and uneven, and the way his tongue has lost its rhythm against your pussy because he can't concentrate on anything except the pleasure you're wringing out of him.
"Are you going to come?" You ask sweetly. "Are you going to spill all over yourself and make a mess like a good little slut?"
He tries to nod again, but you're already pulling your hand away.
"Too bad," you say, and his desperate, wounded keen is the most beautiful sound you've ever heard. "You don't get to cum until I say so. And I haven't said so."
"Please," he gasps, his mouth finally free of your pussy because you've lifted your hips just enough to look down at him. His face is a messâlips swollen, cheeks flushed, chin slick with your arousal. "Please, baby, I need to cum. I've been thinking about it all day. I can'tâ"
"Oh, but you can." You climb off him, and he whines at the loss of contact, his hands reaching for you instinctively. "Get up. Bend me over the counter."
Seungcheol scrambles to his feet so fast he nearly slips and you snicker, telling him to be careful. His cock is an angry red, throbbing visibly, a steady stream of precum dripping from the tip on every twitch. He looks ruined already, and you haven't even let him inside you yet.
You turn around and brace yourself against the counter, arching your back, presenting yourself to him. You're soakedâyour thighs are glistening, your pussy is swollen and dripping with a mix of your juices and his spit, and you know exactly what he's seeing right now.
"Now you can fuck me," you tell him. "Slow. Exactly the way I want it. And you're not going to come. Do you understand?"
"Yes," he breathes, steps closer behind you. "Yes, I understand. I'll be good. I'll be so good for you."
He lines himself up. You feel the blunt, thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance, and even though you're wet and open and ready, the stretch is still overwhelming. Seungcheol pushes in slowly, inch by inch, spreading your walls, filing the empty space that begged to be filled, and you both groan in unison as he fills you.
"Fuck," he whispers. "Fuck, baby, you're so tight. You're always so tight. How are you still so tight?"
"Shut up and move."
He pulls out almost all the way, making you feel the way his veined shaft drags against your sensitive walls, and then pushes back in. Seungcheol fucks you exactly the way you told him toâslow, deep, each thrust deliberate and measured. His hands are gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, and you can hear the effort it's taking him to hold back, the way his breathing is coming in ragged gasps, the way he's trembling against you.
"You feel so good," he babbles again. "You feel so fucking good, baby, I can'tâI don't know how much longer I canâ"
"You can last as long as I tell you to last." But your voice is shaking now too. The angle is perfect, his cock hitting that spot inside you with every slow, grinding thrust, and you're getting close yourself. "Don't you dare cum without permission. Don't you fucking dare."
"I won't. I won't, I promise, justâplease, can I go faster? Please?"
"No. Keep it slow. I want to feel every inch of you."
He whimpers, but he does what he's told. His thrusts stay slow and deep, his cock dragging against your walls, and you can feel the orgasm building in your core, coiling tighter and tighterâ
Your phone rings.
Your intuition immediately screams at you that it must be someone from work.
"Fuck," you hiss in half frustration, half panic. "Fuck, Cheol, stop, I haveâhave to take thisâ"
You try to pull away, but his grip on your hips tightens. "No," he whines. "No, baby, please, I'm so close, don't stop meâ"
Somewhere in the back of your mind you feel bad for the man, he sounds so ruined.
"I'm not asking." You pull yourself off his cock with a wet, obscene sound, and Seungcheol makes a noise like you've stabbed him. His cock bobs in the air, angry and neglected, throbbing and jumping with denied orgasm. A thick strand of your combined fluids connects him to your pussy for a brief moment before it snaps. He whines out a sob.
"You ruined it," Seungcheol breathes, and he sounds genuinely devastated. "You ruined my orgasm. Baby, why? I was right thereâ"
"Stay here," you order, already grabbing your phone from the kitchen table where it was resting forgotten all this time. "Don't move."
You answer the call as you walk toward your room, your voice switching to a semblance of something professional and pleasant even though your thighs are still wet and your pussy is still aching and empty. "Hey, yeah, sorry, just give me one secondâ"
You don't get your one second. Because Seungcheol, your sweet, pathetic, desperate boyfriend, has followed you despite what you told him to do.
You feel him before you see himâhis body pressing up behind you, his hands gripping your hips, his cock sliding between your thighs, still slick with your arousal. You're standing in front of your desk, phone pressed to your ear, and he's already bending you forward, already lining himself up.
"No," you mouth silently, turning your head to glare at him. "Don't you dare."
Seungcheol meets your eyes. His are dark and wild and desperate, and there's something almost feral in his expression. He doesn't stop. He pushes inside you in one smooth, harsh thrust that jolts your entire body, and the sensation of intrusion is so sudden and overwhelming that you have to bite down on your own hand to keep from crying out. This leaves you with no support, which means you pretty much topple over, suddenly pressed into your desk with Seungcheol's hand that was applying pressure between your shoulder blades.Â
"âand so I was wondering if you could take a look at this document before the meeting this afternoon," your team lead is saying in your ear, her voice cheerful and oblivious. "I know it's last minute, but I think there might be an error on page five."
"Of course," you manage, and your voice comes out surprisingly steady considering the fact that your boyfriend is currently buried balls-deep inside you, his hips already starting to move. "I canâI can do that. No problem."
Seungcheol fucks into you with slow, deliberate strokes, and you can feel him throbbing inside you, can feel how close he still is from before, how desperate. One of his hands slides up and down your back, pressing you down onto the desk before you can even think of lifting your upper body into an upright position, and the other grips your hip hard enough to anchor you in place.
"Great, thanks," your team lead says. "Also, I wanted to ask about the client presentation next week. Have you had a chance toâ"
He chooses that moment to thrust particularly deep, his cock hitting your cervix, and a tiny, strangled sound escapes your throat before you can stop it.
"You okay?" your team lead asks.
"Yes," you say, and your voice is definitely too high. "Yes, sorry, I justâstubbed my toe. On the desk. It's fine."
Seungcheol leans down, his chest pressing against your back, his lips brushing your free ear. "Little liar," he whispers, so quiet only you can hear. "What will your boss do if she finds out you're getting fucked during your working hours?â He can't help a chuckle that escapes him when he comes up with his next question. "Hmm, does it make you a slut for fucking me and getting paid while doing so? TechnicallyâŠ" he trails off and your pussy clenches traitorously as soon as your brain registers what he just said.
You want to kill him. You want to kill him and then marry him and then kill him again.
"âand if you could send me the updated slides by end of day, that would be perfect," your team lead is saying.
"End of day," you repeat, barely processing the words. Seungcheol has picked up his pace, just slightly, and the sound of his cock sliding into your wet, messy pussy is so loud in the quiet room that you're sure your team lead can hear it if the line stays silent for a moment too long. "Yes. Slides. I'llâI'll send them."
"Are you sure you're okay? You sound a little off."
"I'm fine. I'm great. Justâwriting it down."
Seungcheol muffles a laugh against your shoulder. His hand leaves your hip and snakes around to your front, finding your clit with devastating accuracy. Your whole body jolts.
"That's the spot, isn't it?" he breathes in your ear. "That's the spot that makes you stupid. You're going to come on my cock while you're on the phone, aren't you? You're going to soak me and she's going to hear it."
You shake your head frantically, but you can't speak. Your team lead is still talking, something about deadlines and team meetings, and you're nodding along and making vague sounds of agreement while your boyfriend rubs circles on your clit and fucks into you with deep, punishing strokes. You're trying so hard not to start panting or moaning, and your brainpower continues to slip from your grasp.
"I'm going to fill you up," he whispers. "I'm going to pump you so full of cum it'll be dripping out of you for the rest of the day. And you're going to sit in your meetings and feel it leaking into your panties, and you're going to think about me. About this. About how I ruined you while you were trying to be professional."
"Okay," you say into the phone, and you have no idea what you're agreeing to. "Okay, sounds good. I have toâI have to go now, I'll send those slides."
"No rush," your team lead says. "Talk later!"
You hang up with confused fingers, missing the red button on the screen a couple of taps before you finally manage to end the call. The phone clatters onto the desk.
And then you let yourself fall apart.
"Cheolâ" It comes out as a loud sob, half fury and half desperate, overwhelming need. "Youâyou fuckingâI can't believe youâ"
"You loved it." He's not even trying to hide the smugness in his voice, but it's undercut by the way his hips are stuttering, the way his rhythm is falling apart. "You loved every second of it. I could feel you getting wetter and clenching around me when she asked if you were okay."
"I'm going to kill youâafterâafter I comeâ"
"Yeah?" He presses harder on your clit, circles it with the perfect pressure that he knows you enjoy, and the orgasm that's been building since the kitchen finally, finally explodes. "Then come for me. Now, baby. Let me feel it."
You shatter with a mewl. It rips through you like a thunderclap, your whole body seizing up, your pussy clamping down on his cock in rhythmic, pulsing waves. You screamâyou can't help it, the sound tears out of you raw and unguarded after long minutes of trying to suppress it allâand Seungcheol groans and buries himself to the hilt, spilling inside you in hot, copious pulses.
He keeps thrusting through it, fucking his cum deeper into you, and you can feel it flooding you, filling you, leaking out around his cock in a white obscene ring and dripping down your thighs. He doesn't stop until he's completely spent, and then he collapses over you, his weight pressing you into the desk, his breath hot and ragged against the back of your neck.
For a long moment the room is silent. The only sounds are your mingled breathing and the faint, distant hum of the fridge in the kitchen.
Then: "You're a menace," you whisper, swallowing thickly and heaving a sigh.
He laughs, breathless and giddy and a little bit wrecked. "Yeah. But you're the same. And you love me."
You don't argue. You can't. Not when his cock is still inside you, still half-hard, still plugging you full of his cum. Not when you can already feel it starting to drip out despite his best efforts. Not when your legs are shaking so badly you're not sure you can stand if you try.
"Next time," you manage, "I'm locking you to a piece of furniture before I take a work call."
"Hmm, I think next time," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade, "you'll let me do it again. Because you're just as depraved as I am."
You hate that he's right. You hate it even more that you don't hate it at all.
*.(àčâąÍ Ë âąÍàč).* Please like + reblog + comment if you enjoyed your time reading this! This means a lot and motivates me to continue posting.
summary: when you break seungcheolâs most important rule, he knows he has to punish you. you just didnât know how much you would end up liking it.
word count: 4.9k
warnings: angst if you squint, smut, nsfw, dom!seungcheol, sub!reader, spanking, some pain play, praise and degradation, rough (and I mean ROUGH) sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, lots of dirty talk, daddy kink, mentions of subspace. Pls read at your own risk.
a/n: this is the most out there thing Iâve written seriouslyâŠ. I usually donât write dynamics like these so this was an exercise for me too lol. I hope you like it! Feedback is always loved and appreciated xx
Things felt off from the very start.
You know itâs your fault. You had a terrible day, and you shouldâve just taken it easy when you got back home. Work was a shitshow, and for hours, all you wanted was to just lay down in your bed and never speak to another human being again. You should have communicated that. Without a doubt, Seungcheol wouldâve dropped everything to pamper you. He wouldâve drawn you a nice, warm bath and taken over the dishes after dinner. He wouldâve rubbed your feet and gotten you something overly sweet for dessert as a treat for getting through the absolute hell of a day you had.
But you didnât say anything. In fact, you just kissed him harder, with more purpose, and told him dinner could wait. You pawed at his clothes and told him to take you hard and rough. You wanted to feel, but you forgot that your mind is really not strong enough today to handle what you were asking your boyfriend to give you.
Because, you see, Seungcheol has rules.
You had always been a fan of more spice in the bedroom, and you truly feel like you met your match when you got with Seungcheol. For every submissive tendency in your body, for all the times you wanted zero control over your own senses, Seungcheol was more than happy to take the reins. He loved it, basked in it, knew how to play your body like a stringed instrument. His dominance in the bedroom came with only one, all encompassing rule: you donât do anything he doesnât give you explicit permission to do. And that includes every single one of your innumerable orgasms.
Usually, you love it. Your job is taxing and overburdening, and sometimes, you want someone else to take charge and just tell you what to do. For years, you have been perfect, the epitome of submission. Youâre his good girl, always, disciplined and in-line. Thereâs only a smattering of brat in you, which Seungcheol tolerates in small doses, but otherwise, you are perfectly pliant, suited for his needs the way he is suited to yours. Thereâs a harmony here, established by many years of communication and understanding. So you shouldâve known. You shouldâve said something, told him to take it easy. But you stupidly kept your mouth shut, and hence began your current predicament.
Heâs fucking you into the mattress just like you asked, his sweats pulled down just enough to let him pound his cock into you. Youâre naked from the waist down, arching, chest constricted in your pale, buttoned up blouse. You hadnât even let him fully undress you. You didnât want to take your time, you just wanted him in you. Even when he tried to tighten his grip on you, tried to mumble a âslow downâ into your mouth, you didnât let him, begging, pleading, promising to be good for him if he would just fill you up, and so he complied.
That was the mistake, and it became your undoing when, just minutes later, you are clamping up around him, your body already so stiff and wound up, so glaringly exhausted, that no amount of self control can stop you. You clench hard and come, writhing on the mattress fisting the sheets, wailing as it washes over you in scattered, broken waves. You havenât even come down from it when tears coat your eyes and you realise what youâve done.
Seungcheol slows to a stop, still throbbing inside you, but jaw dropped in shock. This might be the first time in years that youâve come without slurring out your usual âpleaseâ or âlet meâ or âcan I?â, waiting for his permission. Youâd always listened, always done what you were told, never once stepping even a toe out of line.
This is incredibly out of character.
Immediately, he can see it weigh heavily on you. Youâre panting, legs still trembling, but your body is stiffening, he can feel it around his dick, and your face is crumpling. He knows you regret it, but he also knows why this happened. He shouldâve known. God, he shouldâve spotted it the second you walked in through the door. The hard plane of your shoulders, the tight line of your lips. But he had gotten barely two words out of his mouth before you were smothering him with yours, begging in that cute, whiny voice of yours that you need this bad. He had stupidly agreed, and now heâs watching you fall apart.
He needs to fix this.
âIâm-â Your voice is pitched and wobbly. Your arms tuck into your body, legs pulling together as much as they can with him between them. Youâre trying to shrink yourself. ââM sorry. Cheol, Iâm so-â
This isnât on you, he knows this. This isnât your fault at all. If anything, itâs his. He should know you well enough by now to estimate what you need and give it to you. But now is not the time to beat himself up. You need to forget this happening, or you will do what you always do; think about this to the point of spiraling and making yourself sick with guilt. He also knows that no amount of reassurance is going to make you forget it.
Through your teary vision, you hear a tut of disappointment, and then your boyfriend pulls out. Youâre filled with dread, because you donât want him to step back. You know youâve fucked up. This is one of his most important rules. Thereâs just no conceivable universe where youâre allowed to cum without Seungcheol telling you to, and already, guilt is striking your chest like stab wounds from knives.
âThat wasnât like you, sweetheart.â His voice is rough but soft. âIâm very surprised.â
You sniffle, resisting the urge to curl into yourself. âIâm sorry.â
âAre you?â You feel his hands on your bare knees, closing them and sitting back on his haunches. You sit up shakily, blinking hard to try and see him in the relative darkness of the room. The golden light from the lamp hits the side of his face. His expression is blank. You canât tell what heâs thinking.
âI am sorry.â You insist again. âI donât know what came over me-â
âI donât know what came over you either.â He tilts his head, watching you. âThats not how good girls behave.â
Your heart lurches. This is your biggest medal. Your point of pride; being good for Seungcheol. Never once in all your years of doing this had you let him down. Never. The mere thought of it might push you to panic. Before you can say anything, you feel Seungcheolâs hand, strong and sure, run over your jaw and cup the back of your neck. He squeezes slowly, affectionately, and you lean into it, wet eyelids fluttering. Every fibre in you hopes he isnât mad.
âWhen good girls misbehave, they have to be punished.â He whispers. âI know you never have before, princess, but you know itâs fair.â
You swallow tightly before hesitantly nodding. Itâs the rules. You step out of line, you get punished. You will do anything to make up for your misstep. You will take any punishment.
âOkay.â You sniffle. Seungcheol sighs and nods.
âGood.â He says, not âgood girlâ. But you donât deserve to be called that right now. âStrip.â
Seungcheol stands as he watches you shakily undo your blouse buttons. You tug it off and reach back for your bra. When youâre sat bare before him, you watch him tuck his erection back into his sweats, seating himself on the edge of the bed with his back to you. He reaches an arm back to gesture to you.
âCome here.â
You comply, crawling to him on your hands and knees. He maneuvers your body very easily, settling you on his lap until your stomach is pressed to his thighs, strong and sturdy under the soft material of his pants. Your legs dangle, ass sticking out. You flush at the position, realising whatâs coming. Youâve been spanked before, mostly during sex when Seungcheol is whispering dirty things into your ear from behind and slapping your ass. But never like this. You almost jump when you feel his hand run up your right asscheek.
âI think ten sounds good.â He hums. âYou will count, and you will say thank you after every single one. Got it?â
Your eyelids flutter. You rest your head on your arms. âYes, sir.â
âGood.â
The first one is the biggest shock to your system. Seungcheolâs hand comes down with unbelievable force, full palmed and encompassing your entire ass cheek. You yelp loudly, fingernails digging into your arms. Immediately, tears spring into your eyes. You were just wondering why he decided to do only ten, but now itâs clear to you that even ten will be more than anything you can withstand.
âO-one.â You immediately choke out. âThank you, sir.â
The second one marrs your other asscheek, stinging just as much, and your entire face scrunches as you cry out. You writhe where youâre draped over his lap. Your skin is screaming, and you already feel dizzy.
âTwo.â You heave, the very air feeling like torture on your skin.
âTwo what?â Seungcheol snaps. âAlready forgetting the rules? Donât make me start over, princess.â
You shake your head immediately, trying to take long breaths. âIâm sorry, sir. Thank you. Thank you.â
You whisper it again, and again, even as he lands more spanks on your ass. It feels heated now, like itâs on fire, and by the time you reach eight, you are lightheaded, sobbing openly, poor pussy clenching around nothing as the sensitivity spreads all the way down your thighs as well.
Seungcheol tuts and sighs, you can hear him over the sound of your own cries. You lurch when he caresses your stinging skin. He reaches down, one thick finger sliding through your slit and pressing into your aching nub. Your eyes roll, the feeling so intense that you can barely process it. Youâve been edged before, so many times, youâve been overstimulated and wanting, but never has it felt this divine, the pleasure curling around the tendrils of pain running through your body. Seungcheol dips a finger into your squelching hole, sinking it in to the last knuckle, and you wail at the feeling.
âSo wet, baby.â He coos. âGreedy little thing, you even enjoy your punishment.â
âIâm sorry.â You whimper, trying everything in your power to not buck back into his finger. When he pulls out, you almost cry, but he wastes no time, using that already wet hand to spank you again, just as harsh, not losing steam at all.
âN-nine.â You weep. âThank you, sir.â
You almost feel like youâre seeing spots in your vision. Seungcheol reaches between your thighs again, like he knows this is becoming too much. He cups your pussy, sliding his fingers through the sopping mess side to side, just enough to stimulate your clit.
âLast one, princess.â He encourages. âReady?â
You nod weakly, voice cracking when you cry out again as his hand meets your ass one last time. You choke out the number, the thank you. Youâre openly tearful, face nearly as wet as your cunt, and finally Seungcheol moves. He lifts you up, placing you very gently on your back in the center of the mattress. You feel his lips on your forehead, and you bask in the feeling.
âSuch a good girl.â He says finally, hand caressing through your sweaty hair. âYou took that so well, baby.â
You keen, pussy clenching desperately around nothing.
ââM your good girl.â You slur.
You donât see the fond smile on his face, eyes soft with affection. He kisses your forehead, your cheeks, any part of you he can reach.
âYes, you are.â He reassures you. âMy perfect girl. Your first time and you did so good.â
You whine, shaky hands reaching up to claw at his shirt. He takes the hint, sitting back to tug it off, followed by his sweatpants. His cock bobs up, thick and hard, leaking copious amounts of precum.
âI think you deserve my cock now, princess.â He hums. âFor being such a good girl.â
You nod eagerly, spreading your legs before he can even do it for you. He settles between them, running the angry, throbbing head through the sticky mess in your slit. He does that a few times, coating his shaft until itâs glistening, before finally reaching down and nudging the entrance. When he slides in, your jaw goes slack, eyes rolling at the feeling. Your ass still stings, especially where it rubs on the sheets, but it sends pleasant, burning tendrils shooting through your skin, and it adds to how sensitive you already are. It does nothing but augment your arousal even more. You moan wantonly as Seungcheol bottoms out, and you hear him softly curse.
âPerfect little cunt.â He groans. âTight as anything even after Iâve fucked it for so many years. Youâre molded to me, arenât you baby?â
You nod eagerly as he starts moving, your moans punched out of your throat with every thrust, little âuh, uh, uhâs that only seem to spur him on more. Youâre dripping consistently, wetting his cock as it rams in and out of you at a punishing pace. Every slam of his hips into you jolts your body, your breasts bouncing, and his hungry eyes train on every movement.
âYouâve got the prettiest tits, baby.â He grunts, one hand reaching up to pinch harshly at your left nipple and tug. You cry out. Then, he lets it go, reaching a hand back and bringing it down to harshly slap the swell of it. You gasp.
âGood?â He rasps. You nod enthusiastically and arch up, tempting him more. He groans and does it again, the sting making your eyes roll.
âDirty slut.â He grits out. âYou love this. Love getting slapped around, donât you?â
Youâre so far gone as he rams into you, nearly delirious with it. Even after so long of being together, there are things youâre discovering not only about Seungcheol, but about yourself as well. Youâre sinking into the depths of depravity, and you want to fall further into it. So you blink wetly up at your boyfriend, eyes wide and big.
âOnly if daddy does it.â
Seungcheolâs hips stutter. You can see the shock pass over his face, but it hardens immediately. His pace slows. He slams his hips into yours and stays there, leaning down closer to you.
âWhat did you just say?â
You bite the inside of your cheek, clenching wildly around his suddenly still cock. âOnly wanna be slapped around by daddy.â
You can see, in real time, Seungcheolâs eyes darken as his pupils dilate. He bites the plump of his bottom lip. Beside your head, his hands fist the sheets tightly.
âYouâre playing a dangerous game.â He grits, voice low and brassy. You swallow tightly.
âYou donât like it?â
The corner of his mouth twitches. He pulls out slowly until only the head of his cock is snug inside you. Then, he lurches forward, slamming into you so hard your whole body jerks. You gasp.
âI love it, baby.â He does it again. âMaybe a little too much.â
You canât speak, all the breath knocked straight out of your lungs with every harsh, deep, slow thrust of Seungcheolâs hips. His head smooches the opening of your cervix, a shooting sensation through your lower abdomen that makes you gush around his thick cock. You feel his hand encircle your neck, and your toes curl in anticipation.
âYouâre gonna be a good girl for Daddy then, sweetheart?â Another thrust. You feel your hair brush the headboard as your body is pushed up by sheer force. You nod vigorously, unable to say the words. His grip on the sides of your throat tightens, and you start to feel a little lightheaded.
His pace is brutal, picking up speed as he slams into you over and over. He uses his free arm to tuck just above your head so you donât slam into the bed frame, but he doesnât let up even once. He mutters the most filthy, unbearable things in your ear, telling you how youâre his perfect little cocksleeve, made to take him whenever he wants it, no questions asked. That he has trained your pussy to be this way, the perfect little slut for him. You moan whenever he loosens his grip on your neck, choking out how much you love getting fucked hard by daddy, how youâre just a hole for him to fuck and use, and when you canât take it anymore, you ask him the golden question.
âCan I cum, daddy?â
His thrusts immediately get harsher. âDonât you fucking dare.â He grits. âYou think you deserve to, after cumming without permission? Iâve barely forgiven you for that, baby. Youâve got a lot of making up to do before you get a reward.â
You wail, chest heaving as you clamp desperately around his throbbing, huge cock. You know heâs right. Youâve been bad, and some spanking and one offering of your wet pussy isnât enough to earn you forgiveness. So you donât protest. You donât ask again. You only agree.
âIâm sorry for asking, daddy.â You babble. âYouâre right, I donât deserve it. Iâm just daddyâs little cum dump. Iâll take whatever daddy will give me.â
Seungcheolâs groan is broken. âGod, I donât know whatâs gotten into you, but I love it, sweetheart. Being such a perfect girl for me, fuck.â
You shake and cry as he fucks into you some more, your head now tilting forward as he folds you closer and closer to the headboard, crowding you against it. You canât barely breathe at the force. And finally, finally, his movements turn sloppy.
âThink you should be allowed to take my cum?â He grits out. âFeels awfully like a reward, no? Have you earned it, baby?â
Your face crumples. You want to feel it inside you so bad, the heat of his release warming your insides. But you know what he wants to hear, you know you havenât been good enough to deserve a big reward like that.
âNo, daddy.â You whimper. âI donât deserve it. I havenât been good.â
Seungcheolâs smirk is sick. He licks over his bottom lip. âYouâre so self aware tonight.â His tone is near-mocking, and it makes you tighten pathetically.
When he abruptly pulls out, it feels like getting your insides ripped from you. His hand moves rapidly over his wet cock, and he shuffles up until heâs straddling your torso.
âOpen your mouth.â He grits. You immediately obey, sticking your tongue out. Your eyelids flutter when the first rope of it hits your lips, dripping over your tongue. Some of it splatters on your cheek, but you manage to catch most of it as he groans and shudders above you. You canât take your eyes off him, sweaty and shaky, muscles shifting under his pale skin as he rides his high. Your poor pussy clenches around nothing, deprived so suddenly of the intense pleasure. You swallow every last drop, using your fingers to collect whatever your mouth missed and popping it between your lips. Seungcheol is heaving as he shifts back.
Even though your legs are shaky and you feel dizzy, you manage to sit up, making wide, pleading eyes at your boyfriend.
âCan I clean you up?â
You can see how soft and fond his smile is, the little dimple indenting his cheek with it. He sits back leaning on his hands and nods.
âGo ahead, baby.â
You settle between his legs, using little kitten licks to clean your mess, and some of his, off his soft cock. It twitches under your ministrations, already getting half hard as you keep going. He sighs and hums approvingly, running a soft hand through your hair. This was half your motive, anyway, because you like to see this power you have over him. Heâs in control, always, but his dick hardens at your very touch, and that makes you giddy.
He pulls you away with a gentle tug on your hair. You lick your lips for any remnants of his taste, blinking eagerly up at him.
âLay back now.â He whispers. âIâm not done playing with that pretty cunt.â
He sits with your legs framing his hips, laid back on the mattress. You look up at him half with anticipation and half with hesitation, because you know he will toy with you until youâre begging to cum, and even then, you donât know if he will let you.
He runs his hands gently up your thighs, delicate brushes that only wind you up more. You try to lay perfectly still, knowing he doesnât like it when youâre impatient. He massages the creases of your thighs, playing with your pussy lips, stroking over them softly. Youâre already sensitive from the harsh fucking he gave you just earlier, so youâre twitching a little before he has even properly touched you. You donât want to beg, mostly because you still think youâre not entitled to it. This is for him. He wants to play with you, itâs not for your pleasure.
(You both know that it is.)
Finally, his fingers slide through your slit, parting your lips to open you up. Your hole quivers, twitches, and he watches it with heated eyes. He hums and his eyes are reverent as he traces the lines of your pussy. He nudges your clit just barely, and you let out your first, tiny moan.
âDonât hold back, baby.â He coos. âYou let me know whenever it feels good.â
You comply beautifully, little whimpers and sighs that accompany every touch of his fingers over your aching center. He takes his time as he toys with your clit, rubbing, flicking, pinching it until it is swollen and throbbing under his fingers. He circles your opening to collect the wetness, using it to smear over the rest of your cunt and leaving you wet all over. When you feel like your skin is quietly buzzing, hypersensitive because of his touches, he finally dips into your entrance, sliding his index finger in to the last knuckle. You sigh in palpable relief, clenching hard around the digit.
âYes.â A tear slips down the side of your face. âThank you, daddy.â
He likes that, because he moves it the exact way you want it, curling it and probing your most sensitive spot. He adds another quickly, watching every shift in your face as you swallow his fingers greedily. Two of his thick fingers means a stretch, the kind that you love, and when he scissors them inside you, you moan loudly.
After your last failed orgasm, this one builds too quickly. Your face pinches, your legs stiffening as you hold back. Seungcheol notices, and it only makes him finger you harder. You whine in protest.
âWhatâs wrong, baby?â He goads you.
âFeels-â You almost choke as he curls both fingers hard into your sweet spot. âFeels so good. Please.â
âPlease what?â
You buck your hips into him, self control slipping. âPlease, can I cum, daddy?â
Seungcheol hums, as if contemplating. His fingers donât slow for a single second.
âI donât know. Do you deserve it?â
Your face crumples. You want to, you do. But the submissive, depraved part inside you shakes its head. You know if you are to cum, you want it to be on his cock. So you squeeze your eyes shut and whimper out a little ânoâ.
âThen keep taking it like a good girl.â Seungcheol responds. You know he likes that youâre depriving yourself of this. It strikes a sick part of him. The sounds of his fingers fill the room, filthy, sopping noises that come from his digits slamming into you over and over. You are panting heavily, gripping the sheets so hard that youâre almost afraid you will rip them, toes curled and legs stiff, doing everything in your power to not gush over his fingers, to prove to him that you can take whatever he will give you and you wonât do anything youâre not allowed to.
Seungcheol pulls out his fingers just when you think youâre reaching your limit. His wet hand comes down with a harsh spank on your tingling pussy. You scream. He does it two more times, and you weep through it. Finally, you canât take it anymore.
âPlease.â You sob. âPlease, daddy. Need your cock. Wanna cum on it, please.â
By this time, he is throbbing hard again, and he wastes not even a single second, groaning as he tugs your body down and stuffs your aching cunt full of himself once again. His pace from the start is rough and fast. Thereâs no indulgence in him anymore. Watching you shake and tremble under him as he abused your pussy must have been enough, because he is nothing but primal need now. Heâs so hard itâs almost painful, like youâre being impaled, but the relief of the stretch has you wailing loudly. The room is dense with the smell of sweat, sex and cum, noises picking up as he fucks you the way you need. Your mind blanks, focused on nothing but the wonderful feeling of it. Your body sings, glows, buzzes with anticipation because this time, you know he will let you reach your peak.
You donât even have to ask. He cups your jaw, tilts your head and slots his lips into yours. He kisses you until you canât breathe, your walls spasming hard around him, more than ready, as he whispers.
âCum.â
You nearly black out.
Itâs less like a wave and more like an electric shock, shooting through your body and freezing every nerve inside you. Your breath catches and your lungs scream. You cry and wail through it, not even caring how you sound as you gush around Seungcheolâs cock. He rubs harshly over your poor clit, prolonging an already intense high. You arch so deeply you feel like your soul is leaving your body. You babble nonsense, a mix of swear words, thank yous, and incoherent phrases. Seungcheol holds you down after a bit, draping his weight over you to ground you, and itâs such a welcome feeling that your whole body relaxes into it. When the roaring in your ears lessens, you hear his endless praises, telling you how good you are, how sexy and perfect, cumming so beautifully like that. He thrusts shallowly into you, not even properly leaving your cunt, rutting into you so youâre not empty for a single second.
âThat was divine, sweetheart.â He sighs. âSo pretty when you cum. You want another reward for being such a good girl? You want my cum?â
Youâre already nodding before he even finishes speaking, blinking your tear-heavy eyelids.
âPlease, daddy. Need it.â
He shushes you, brushes the hair off your face and presses his forehead to yours.
âNo more begging, baby. You deserve it.â
And then he floods you, two or three more thrusts until you feel warmth coat your insides. Itâs perfect, itâs everything you couldâve asked for and more. He empties his balls into you, thrusting until it dampens into a slow grind, plugging his cum inside your thoroughly fucked out hole.
Itâs silent for a long time before Seungcheol moves. Your chests rise and fall together, slowly catching your breaths. Heâs draped over you still, and it feels so reassuring that you canât help but whine in protest when he moves. It makes him chuckle.
âIf you get cold like this, your muscles will be very sore in the morning, sweetheart.â He reasons. He would know, the gym freak that he is, so you curl into yourself as he trudges into the bathroom. You can hear water running, and a familiar fruity aroma quickly drifts into the room through the open door. Heâs running you a bath.
The warm water is like balm on your skin as he carries your body into it. You moan appreciatively, letting your boyfriend knead and press into your thighs. His front presses against your back as he slowly works over you in blissful silence, laying tiny kisses on your shoulders as he works. After a while, he finally speaks.
âSo,â he begins, âwhat happened at work today?â
You blink, thinking. After a few seconds, you giggle.
âHonestly, I donât even care anymore.â
That makes him laugh. âWell, I guess thatâs a job well done for me.â
You turn in his arms just a bit to lay a kiss on his lips, and he returns it so softly and sweetly that you almost want to cry. This time from unadulterated bliss.
You donât even know if you have the words to tell Seungcheol how much you love him. But when he squeezes your body tightly to his, you think you donât have to. He already knows.
El omg thank you smmmmmm this means a lot coming from you đ„č i tried to make it hardcore but an underlying soft demeanour too so im glad that came across â„ïž this made my dayyyy
ââ an unexpected reunion with your fatherâs friend causes old feelings to reach their boiling point.
tags: f!rea x seungcheol | smut/pwp 18+
wc: 8.7k
content: age gap (reader early 20s, cheol late 30s), miscommunication, light angst, alcohol, smoking, mentions of mingyu x reader, smut including dom!cheol, grinding, choking, hair pulling, fingering/oral, unprotected sex
notes: idk man i blacked the fuck out. donât look at me. shout out to emmie & mer for cheering me on while this fic and i were throwing hands ily both
đŁHE PRESENCE OF YOUR FATHERâS FRIEND HAS NEVER FAILED TO MAKE YOU FEEL JUST SHORT OF PSYCHOTIC.Â
if you werenât at such a high-end event, and from one of the most esteemed families on the guest list, youâd allow your wobbling knees to buckle from underneath you; the tears clumping in your lashes to flow down in inky streaks.
youâre acutely aware of how childish it is, to feel this way about one man. to feel this way at all at your age. but years worth of social etiquette lessons and honing emotional intellect run for the hills where heâs concerned. they always have.
swallowing down the boulder-sized lump in your throat, you count the breaths until your vision isnât blurred with tears anymore. all your hard work is almost for nothing when you side-eye his corner of the room and realise heâs still fucking staring at you. probably hasnât stopped, the creep.
you canât even remember what mingyu was yapping your ear off about one minute ago, what had you wishing for divine intervention to get you out of this conversation. it was like the air tilted, like the room moved with himâ choi seungcheol. fire of your loins, bane of your existence as of about a year ago.
itâs as if his eyes commanded attention the instant they fell on you, since your head was turning before you could even clock the reason why.
which brings you to now: feeling like youâre dying from the inside out as your fatherâs friend watches you like a hawk from across the room, mingyu none the wiser while he continues to listen to himself talk.
you curse yourself for not hiding your phone in your bra, instead having forfeited it to security at the entrance. you start scanning the room for a circle of people to step into, or even a server holding a tray of champagne to beckon over, as you ignore your fatherâs attempts to get your attention.
instinct wins out when he calls your name, and you make the mistake of snapping your head to his directionâ instantly locking eyes with the dark brown pair that has your previous glasses of bubbly churning in your belly.
pitifully, you excuse yourself from mingyu, directing his attention to your father very clearly waiting for you to come to him. you give mingyuâs arm a squeeze as you promise youâll continue this conversation, in hopes that he might rescue you later.
your lips are near pursing in a tight-lipped smile as you finally walk to your fatherâs side, refusing to spare even a glance towards his friend standing silently across from you.
âyou havenât forgotten mr. choi, have you?â
you wish you had.
it feels like a puncture straight into your ribs when he says your name in that mellow voice. âitâs been a while since iâve last seen you.â seungcheol smiles.
the memory of the last night you heard from him still flashes hot in your head. itâs been a year, maybe more. youâve met a lot more men than just your fatherâs friendâ enough decent ones to last you a lifetime. and yet, youâre still bitter like it was just yesterday.
you can only manage a nod in response, swallowing down the cusses sizzling on your tongue.
âwell, iâll leave you two to catch up, then. you used to be such good friends, didnât you?â your father asks you without leaving room for argument. he shakes hands with seungcheol as he takes his leave, stepping out of the conversation he started; leaving you stranded and pissed.
you keep your eyes trained on your fatherâs back as he walks off, hoping that the ground might open up and swallow you.
âyou look really beautiful tonight.â seungcheol starts, speaking softly as if to a baby. âhowâve you been?â
noticing that youâre ignoring him, he tries to step in to your line of sight that youâre purposefully keeping away from him. in retaliation, you duck your head down to pick at your nails, and he chuckles lowly.
âyouâve gone all shy now?â
that hits almost like a slap. it feels like heâs poking fun at the very last interaction you shared, even if thatâs not what he meant.
you let him win and actually look at him now.
your resolve damn nearly crumbles. seungcheolâs been aging like the finest fucking wine.
breathlessly, you take in his features youâre already familiar with that have somehow gotten even more attractive: the dark hair loosely framing his temples, the heady gaze of his eyes behind thin glasses, the faintest smug curve of his full lips.
he looks wider too, no doubt thanks to his steadfast commitment to the gym. seungcheolâs dressed in black from head to toe in a button-up and slacks that fit him like a damn glove, if not a little tighter with how the fabric looks like itâs straining around the muscles heâs hiding under there.
itâs not until your eyes meet his again that you realise they ever left. you unclench your jaw, becoming acutely aware that youâve been ogling him and he was just.. letting you.
self-conscious, you grimace. âwhat do you want me to say? i donât want to talk to you.â
itâs only half true. and if you had kept in contact, heâd be able to see right through it. but you didnât. so you watch seungcheolâs face drop ever-so-slightly, buying the bitter edge to your words.
âi know.â he shifts his weight, perhaps uncomfortably. good. âi didnât ask your father to do that. iâm sure itâs only because he got tired of me asking about you.â
âwhat?â you nearly scoff out, trying to not sound too eager at the fact he still gave even a single shit about you.
âhe called you over so that you could just answer my questions yourself. i tried to insist that it was fine, though.â
you heart pangs a little over the fact seungcheol tried to convince your father against calling you over. even if you were close to having a breakdown just because you realised his eyes were on you.
âokay⊠so ask.â
his lip curls. maybe disbelief, maybe amusement. âhowâs school been treating you?â
you stifle a roll of your eyes. calling it school made you feel like a kid. youâre in your third year of college, for christâs sake. in saying that, seungcheol knew your father as the companyâs CEO first and foremost before he became his friend, so youâve always been the bossâs daughter to him.
even when he started coming around your home, joining your family at dinner, asking about your day in passing. even when you were old enough to be on a first name basis with him and catch up regularly over the phone when you moved away for college. seungcheol always finds a way to remind you that youâre just a kid to himâ in case you ever, god forbid, hope he could view you as an equal.
âwell, the work doesnât get any easier. but iâm enjoying staying in the city. it makes coming home feel like a holiday.â
âyouâve made some more friends there?â
âof course i have.â it comes out like a response to an accusation. you donât want him thinking youâre lonely. you donât know why you still care what he thinks.
seungcheolâs smug grin only stretches wider at your tone. âand theyâre good for you?â
better than you, fuck you, i hate youâ âthey keep me sane.â
seungcheol chuckles, a deep sound from his chest that feels like a punch straight to yours.
god, youâre still so attracted to him. youâd even say youâve missed him, if only you didnât have to jump off a cliff before letting yourself admit that.
you startle the poor server boy passing by when you call out to him by name suddenly (âchanâ the name-tag read), and he faces you like heâs braced for a scolding. softening your face with an apologetic smile, you take one of the champagne flutes on his tray and thank him before he scurries off to the other side of the room.
seungcheolâs brow quirks in that infuriatingly cocky way he does as he watches you take a hefty gulp of the champagne.
too eager, some of the liquid ends up running down your chin and falling onto your cleavage in droplets. you mutter a cuss as you swallow down, unceremoniously wiping your chest off with your hand.
your eyes flick back up to seungcheol, and you catch his doing the exact same movement as they meet yoursâ as if he was also looking down there.
you narrow your eyes at him.
âyou look.. different.â he mutters.
âworse?â
he cocks his head, voice low and deliberate. âyou know thatâs not what i said.â
a shock races straight up your spine with the way his eyes go half-lidded, jaw slack. if you were still as insane about him as you used to be, you could delude yourself into thinking he was giving you bedroom eyes.
but you know he isnât. seungcheol already made it clear that he doesnât want you like that.
âi miss your calls, you know.â he admits in a murmur.
before you can stop yourself, youâre thinking out loud with a scoff: âgee, i wonder why they stopped.â
at that, the air between you completely changesâ replaced by something crackling with tension. seungcheol goes rigid, brows furrowing like heâs checking if youâre joking, but you donât back down.
you may as well stop beating around the bush. stop ignoring the massive fucking elephant in the room.
stop pretending that you didnât ghost seungcheol for a year after he ghosted you for a night.
he sighs, stepping to you. âyou never let me explain myself.â
you step back in turn, reinstating the distance between you. âkind of speaks for itself, doesnât it? iâm a big girl, i can take a hint.â
seungcheolâs lip twitches at the big girl part of your sentence before he runs a hand through his hair; fixes the glasses on his nose like heâs composing himself.
âi didnât want to hurt your feelings, and iâm sorry. but you know why i had to make that choice.â
âi donât know, actually.â you reply, sarcasm dripping from your tongue. âi donât know why you couldnât just talk to me like an adult instead of standing me up.â
you hate how little it makes you feel, arguing your side. like what could you ever understand about the grown-up reasons behind his actions?
you catch seungcheolâs hands flex at his sides, and he clicks his teeth, incredulous. âi donât expect you to explain the obvious for why you blocked my number, so donât expect me to do the same for why i didnât come that night. you know damn well how it wouldâve looked on me.â
âlike what? what are you so afraid of?â you push him, shoving the rational part of your brain into timeout.
you need to hear him say it. itâs not like you planned on anything actually happening that nightâ hoped and dreamt and possibly prayed, yesâ but realistically, you didnât expect it to go any further than you just confessing your feelings.
youâre a woman, maybe not as grown as him, but an adult at the end of it. heâs acting like he wouldâve been taken away in handcuffs.
when seungcheol says your name again, this time itâs a warning. his dark eyes behind those lenses watch intently for your next move, and your blood flares with the adrenaline of pissing him off. if you can get under his skin in any way, youâre going to run with it.
âokay. well, for future reference, maybe donât tell a girl youâll go to dinner with her if youâre just not going to fucking show up.â
seungcheolâs eyes widen, and you feel a buzz of anticipation as his jaw ticks, before his tense shoulders deflate with a sigh. âi really am sorry.â
sorry isnât nearly enough to cut it. last year, when you were briefly home for your spring break, youâd asked seungcheol to join you for dinner on your last day there. by this point, catching up with him over the phone was part of your daily routine. youâre grown enough to be studying for a serious âadultâ job, to be calling him just seungcheol instead of mr. choi, and to think that maybe your long-term crush on him could actually be reciprocated. he promised that heâd be there, after all.
silly you.
you donât know whether he was intentionally leading you on or you were a dog chasing an imaginary bone but you felt so incredibly stupid all the same. and now he has the gall to be standing in front of you, looking like a kicked puppy because you dare confront him about it.
âyou know what? i actually donât care what your reason is anymore. just leave me alone.â another lie that youâre hoping he canât see through.
you go to walk right past him, but seungcheol catches your wrist in a firm grip, rendering you frozen as he pulls you close enough to feel the heat radiating from his bodyâ right here in the middle of this crowded room like youâre the only person he even sees.
seungcheol carries an air of dominance everywhere he goes. when he speaks, his voice demands silence. itâs why he stands as high as he does in your fatherâs companyâ he knows what he wants and he knows how to make it his. but he is never rough in his ways. thereâs a composed way to how he controls things. and everything youâve come to know about seungcheol is completely contradicted by the man standing before you.
âi wasnât lying when i said i missed you.â he mutters, thick brows pinched in frustration. âyou donât understand how much regret i feel for how we left things.â
you really didnât understand. sheepishly, you turn your head to the side to get some air away from his breath hitting your face, and also to check if anyoneâs staring at you both like youâre crazy. seungcheol intercepts your efforts, nose an inch from bumping yours as he dips his face close.
âwould you let me try to fix it?â
are you drunk and hallucinating?? how he can stand you up for a private dinner because of âhow itâll lookâ, and now tug you by the arm this close to him in front of your peers and ask you for a second chance, you wonder just what the fuck happened to him during your year apart.
you donât budge, and his frown grows even deeper as he groans out a hoarse âplease.â
you could get high off the way heâs looking at you, like heâll beg if he doesnât get an answer. all the power is in your hands here and your mind is reeling because of it. you wonder just what he means by âfixing itâ, and how far heâll go to do so.
but, instead of finding out, you just smirk cruelly and snatch your arm back from out of his grip.
âno. fuck you.â
you donât spare him a second glance as you walk off, progressively feeling more self-conscious at the weight of his eyes burning holes into your back.
youâre not recognising any of the faces here, anyone that you could spring up a conversation with. before you start to panic and look like an idiot, you pivot for the bathroom.
by the time youâre locking the door behind you, your clammy palms leave the knob slippery.
really, you needed to take that dramatic exit before you did something embarrassingly desperate in retaliation. you didnât know how much longer you had left before your knees gave out, with how seungcheolâs heavy stare and tight grip on your wrist was chipping away at your sanity.
he has never been like that with you.
in the past year youâve had his number blocked, you considered going back on your decision before talking yourself out of it time and againâ convinced he probably couldnât give even less shits than he must already.
evidently, he looks like heâs been even worse off than you are. and heâs the one who stood you up.
your dress feels like itâs sticky and also somehow like itâs made of sheet metal. you readjust how everythingâs sitting on your body, slipping out the lighter and single cigarette tucked into the side of your bra (just a mousekatool to help you later) to peel the elastic from your sweaty skin and fan it dry.
after you feel freshened up and like a person again, you sigh and open the door to the hall outside, nearly knocking into seungcheol.
you jump at the sudden sight of him, muttering a curse under your breath. your initial shock quickly curdles into annoyance that youâve run into a him a second time.
âare you seriously following me?â you snap, stepping past the threshold.
âno, iâm justââ he stops himself short when you suddenly readjust how your braâs sitting on your body. you donât miss the way his eyes flick down, though theyâre back up and staring at your face as if it was just an accident. ââŠwaiting.â
you scrunch your face at him like heâs dumb. âfor what?â
seungcheol doesnât reply. he looks past you, into the bathroom, down at his shoes. anywhere but at your face. he must be waiting for you to leave already, you realise.
âyouâre being weird.â you study his face. âdid something happen?â
ânothingâs happened.â he answers at once.
silence stretches. it presses. his jaw works, adamâs apple bobbing as he swallows.
âwell, i hope i donât see you around.â you say after a long moment, unconvinced.
you go to step around him, intending to walk off, except seungcheol doesnât move out of your way quick enough and your arm knocks with his as he takes his hand out from his pocket.
you turn back to make another annoyed comment, except you take immediate notice of how seungcheol was standing. without shame, your eyes dart down to his hand as it moves towards the front of his pants, almost covering hisâ
oh.
you blink thrice to prove you arenât just imagining things, noticing his fingers twitch where they try (and fail) to shield the visible lump in his black slacks.
your lip curls. âare you .. turned on?â
seungcheol looks like heâs gone into rigour mortis.
âsorry,â he murmurs. âitâs not intentional.â
itâs like your world goes into slow motion as he moves to step past you. if you donât take advantage of this situation thatâs in your favour right the fuck now, you may lose the only chance youâve got.
much like he did before, you stop seungcheol when you wrap a hand around his arm. his bicep completely tenses under your touch, and you think youâre about two seconds from losing it.
seungcheol looks like heâs already gone when his eyes meet yours. jaw clenched tight, pupil dilation cranked up to the max. you recognise the look immediately. youâve see it in men before, but not choi seungcheol; the irrepressible crush thatâs defined your entire adulthood. and you feel plastered off the flip in power.
you scoff out a laugh, breathless. âwhat, are you gonna jerk off in there, you freak?â
âiâm not.â he retorts, voice dropping a decibel.
you must look crazy with how youâre smirking right now.
heart pounding against your ribs, you throw all caution to the wind and rake your fingers up over seungcheolâs arm. when he doesnât immediately flinch away, you smooth your palm over his shoulder until youâre cupping the side of his neck, thumb resting over his fluttering pulse. you swear you feel him shiver at the warmth of your touch.
seungcheol startles you when his hand flies out and envelops yours, ripping it off his neck.
âyou need to stop.â he nearly pants out.
heady with adrenaline, you just blink dumbly. âwhy?â
his eyes flutter shut as he exhales a shaky breath through his nose. your own eyes flick down, feeling your stomach knot at how heâs still hard against his pants, and at this proximity you could so easilyâ
âbecause iâll do something i fucking regret.â he murmurs, eyes shaded over when he opens them.
you canât believe this was the same man that stood you up a year agoâ the same man thatâs nearly two decades older than youâ now agonisingly turned on and itâs all your fault.
you were so sure it was because he didnât want you. because he still sees you as a kid. and you may as well be, since you donât know whatâs true or not anymore.
your face splits into a shit-eating grin. âi donât believe you.â
seungcheolâs breath hitches, lip curling halfway to a grimace as he fights a war with own conscience. your eyes go half-lidded, and that seems to be enough to convince him.
you hold your breath as seungcheol steps forward, wetting his lips with his tongue. your eyes flutter shutâ but before you can feel the warmth of his mouth on yours, your eyes snap open at the sound of footsteps around the corner.
your heart goes from fluttering like a hummingbird to completely stopping. seungcheol drops your hand from his grip, but itâs too late to back away from each other before a figure appears at the start of the hallway.
chanâs wide-eyed as he catches you both, a tray full of empty champagne flutes wobbling in his hands. heâs gone within the next blink, scampering off like he walked in on something he knows he shouldnât have.
youâre not too worried. if anything, youâre relieved it was just one of the staff.
seungcheol sighs, putting distance back between you as he steps away. âiâm sorry. i should be better than this.â
âdonât be.â you quickly say back.
when seungcheol raises his eyes to yours, it knocks the air straight from your lungs. he looks like heâs dying. he looks like heâs at his fucking wits end and wants to drag you right down with him. and youâd go happily.
but, before lust can completely cloud your judgement and you follow him into that bathroom, you take a step back too.
âcheol.â your first use of his name all night getting his breath to hitch. âcome find me outside after. we should.. talk. right?â
you flash him a smile, and his eyes just widen. he manages to get out a silent nod, and before you can ignore your judgment and bend yourself over that bathroom sink, you turn away and leave him to it.
youâre greeted by the chirping of cicadas when you push past the sliding glass door out to the gardens. you slipped through the crowd quietly enough and without anyone pulling you aside or calling after you, so you hope no one but seungcheol will be coming to look for you out here.
you need that damn cigarette.
reaching into the side of your bra, you slide out the cigarette, but turn up empty when you try to feel for the lighter that should be right next to it.
you must look insane as you feel your own boobs up, trying to find where the lighter mightâve shifted to. youâre about to start patting at the grass until the crunch of gravel has your head snapping up.
seungcheol cocks his head, tutting at the sight of the cigarette hanging between your lips. âyou know better than that.â
âoh, fuck off. donât even try to parent me.â
âlanguage.â he smirks, and it just gets a roll of your eyes in reply.
once seungcheolâs closed the distance between you, he lifts a hand up to your faceâ and you can only watch in disbelief as he slides the cigarette out from your mouth himself, the pads of his fingers brushing across your lower lip.
you canât even feel mad as you watch him stuff it away inside his pocket.
flicking your eyes back up to meet his, noticing the newfound heaviness to his gaze and the smirk playing at his lips, you decide youâll bite first.
âbe honest: when you got hard back there, was it because you were checking me out?â
his lips part for a thought, and with the way heâs keeping his eyes locked on yours, you could almost think heâs forcing himself to not trail down.
âi was.â
your tongue pokes your cheek as you grinâ in triumph, and in disbelief.
âalright.â you nod. âbut why now?â
âwhat do you mean?â
âwhy change your mind? you already turned me down before.â
âand i canât tell you enough how sorry i am. i wish i never did that.â he presses a palm to his chest, face pinching like the memory physically hurts him.
âbut you did. you had your chance already.â you fire back, feeling what was once desire quickly derail into your bottled up resentment. âit took you a year to decide you want to return my feelings, but first you had to stand me up and make me look like aââ
ââbecause i shouldnât feel them.â seungcheol cuts you off by suddenly closing the distance, massive frame caging you in. you canât breathe at the sight of his pupils blown wide open, lowering your gaze to the fists clenched at his sides like he doesnât know what else to do with them.
his breath hits your face as he exhales shakily, sounding like heâs two seconds from exploding. âiâve got no right to feel any type of way about you. i work for your fatherâ hell, iâm old enough to be your father. what kind of man does that make me, feeling the way i do?â
exactly the kind of man you were hoping he was, thatâs what.
âyou know why i didnât show that night?â he goes on. âbecause i was afraid. of what weâwhat i would do. what i knew wouldâve happened because when it comes you i canâtââ
you frown. you know what he means, what heâs trying to imply. but he keeps beating around the bush instead of saying it outright, saying what youâve wished upon a star for him to confess, and that simply just wonât do.
âwhat are you saying?â you whisper. seungcheolâs face twitches when he spots your lip tremble (just a little act put on for encouragement). âis this.. are you rejecting me again?â
you go to twist away from him, but seungcheol stops you with two firm hands either side of your arms. heat erupts where heâs holding you.
âno, noââ you watch his throat bob in a gulp before he speaks. feel his fingers dig tighter like heâs still scared youâll run away. âi do want you. god, fuck, i do. i have. i wish i didnât but i do and itâs driving me insane.â
there it is.
fucking finally. it feels like victory, like pure bliss.
it is palpable how all the power is in your hands right now. it has been, always. and you know now, this is precisely why seungcheol didnât show that infamous night. because all resistance runs for the hills where youâre concerned.
you tilt your chin up, revelling in the pure want pouring from his eyes.
you chew your bottom lip softly, watch as his eyes follow your every minuscule move. then you release it, popping the âpâ as you say: âprove it.â
seungcheol hesitates a second too long. you open your mouth to berate himâ but then he smothers the words with his lips on yours.
itâs soft at first, which takes you back. seungcheolâs hands move over the bare skin of your arms: one falling down to hold your waist, the other holding your cheek. you melt into him, letting him take the lead as your lips follow his.
you breathe in his cologne, sighing out something that sounds like a whine, and a low noise rumbles in seungcheolâs throat over it. he kisses you even harder until your head cranes back from the force. his hand moves to cradle the back of your head, keeping you right where he wants you as he licks into your mouth.
you whine once again around his tongue, just to rile him up, and you get what you want when he pulls you in to press flush against his body. his arousal digs hard into your thigh. you so badly want to tear his flyer open and drop to your knees right here.
your hand wedges between your bodies, and you try to snake your hand down to palm at him before seungcheolâs own flies out to catch it.
he parts with you, smirking with glossy lips as he shakes his head. âuh-uh.â
you pout. âyouâve made me wait this long already.â
âsweetheart,â he hisses when you press your body up against him, thigh shifting to rub at his clothed cock. âwe need to make good choices.â
âso what are we doing then?â you say a little too loudly. too carelessly. âbecause iâmââ
your heart sinks at sound of someone elseâs voice, calling out your name.
you canât will your body to move when your recognition of the voice dawns. seungcheolâs quick to act for you, softly guiding you to your knees. he leads you towards a concrete pillar and you shuffle behind it. it shields barely half of you, and you look up to seungcheol with a panicked expression.
âtrust me,â is all he can get out before the voice comes again, startlingly closer.
seungcheol turns around, standing against the beam. you get the hint and hide yourself behind his legs.
âoh⊠mr. choi.â
âmingyu.â it comes out a little breathless, but he gulps, voice smoothed over as he asks: âwhat are you doing out here?â
your heart skips a beat when mingyu says that heâs looking for you because you need to talk, and you can only pray that seungcheol kept his face straight.
you question if mingyu would even notice anyways, since heâs obviously had some more alcohol since the last time you spoke, with how heâs drawling his words.
âi thought i just heard her voice...â
âwhat do you need to talk to her about?â seungcheol answers too quick, too snappy.
âitâs⊠private.â
fuck.
seungcheol shifts his weight, forcing himself to not glance back at you, and mingyu seems to catch on to whatever seungcheolâs reaction gave away.
âis she there?â
youâre sure both your and seungcheolâs stomachs dropped in unison.
he manages to shake his head. ânope. i havenât seen her all night.â
mingyu nods, seemingly wrestling with himself on whether or not to say something, before landing on a decision.
âchan says he saw you with her earlier.â the server boy? fuck, did mingyu get his friend a job? well, someoneâs getting fucking blacklisted tonightâ âapparently you looked really close.â
âiâm good friends with her father. yours is, too.â
âno, but..â mingyu shifts, gravel crunching under his shoe. âhe said it was a weird close. like it looked like somethingââ
âi think you should lay off the champagne, mingyu.â seungcheol cuts in, deadpanning. âthatâs not an appropriate thing to insinuate about your fatherâs coworker and his bossâs daughter.â
mingyu stammers, and deciding that he needs to fuck off now, seungcheol makes a show of sighing like heâs run out of patience.
âwell,â seungcheol says, slipping his hand out from his pocket, and you can only watch in pure fucking disbelief as he pulls your lighter outâ followed by your cigarette as he sticks it between his lips. âiâll see you inside after i have this.â
you can hear mingyu taking a step back, seemingly accepting defeat.
âand mingyu? have some water while youâre at it.â
you listen to his receding footsteps and for the sliding glass door to shut in the distance before you get back up.
âkimâs boy, huh?â seungcheol starts before you can, tone accusatory.
âare you mad?â
âno.â
âi can literally tell that you are.â
âyou werenât honest with me.â he sulks.
âi donât need to tell you who iâm with.â you snap back, growing annoyed. âthatâs none of your business.â
âyouâre together?â his eyes go wide as saucers as he exclaims.
âno, weâre not.â you scowl. âit shouldnât even matter to you, but since you wonât just drop it: we went out for a bit. i broke it off and we stayed friends. thatâs it.â
you graciously neglect to mention the part where you sometimes still see him on lonely nights, hence why he wonât leave you alone.
but so what? a girl has needs and seungcheol denied you them. mingyu was eager to please and he was a gentleman, and heâs older than you just enough to fill the seungcheol-sized void.
seungcheol looks like he wants to scold youâ for what exactly, youâre not sure, since heâd just be a raging hypocrite.
among other things, actually.
âhow about i ask you why you have my lighter, you fucking perv.â you punctuate the question with a finger pressed to his chest.
seungcheolâs lip twitches. âwas i supposed to leave it in the bathroom? not a good look at an event like this.â
âyour face wonât have a good look when i fuckingââ
seungcheol shuts you up with a kiss on the lips, wasting no time to push his tongue past your teeth. his hands are back on your body, though heâs mindful in where he puts them, even if that means heâs avoiding right where you want him to squeeze you.
you push yourself up against him, mindlessly rocking your hips and chasing the outline of his cock through the layers.
youâre too impatient at this point, adrenaline pumping hot from nearly getting caught by mingyu. you need an out to this energy before you implode. you need him.
âwant you, cheol,â you whine in between his tongue tasting every inch of your month.
even through all the fabric you can feel his cock twitch at your words. you paw at his chest when he doesnât respondâ whining on his tongue and grinding down on his hips until he breaks off the kiss, cussing in between heavy breaths.
his eyes flit all over your face while he thinks scattered thoughts. he licks the taste of your spit off his lips, then pinches your chin between his fingers. âi want you too, gorgeous. but we donât have many options.â
god fucking damn, youâre about to actually just bend over a bush if he doesnât get in you within the next few minutes.
âdid you drive here?â
âi did.â seungcheol reaches into his pocket, and his car keys jingle.
âthen letâs fucking go.â
ever the gentleman, seungcheol opens the back door to his car for you to climb in first. on your hands and knees, you make a show of hiking your ass in the air as you crawl to the other side. youâre not even sat down before you hear seungcheol shuffling in behind you, and you jump when the door slams shut.Â
âare you trying to draw attentâ?â
ââcome here.â seungcheol urges you breathlessly, his large hands on your waist guiding you to lay back on the seats before heâs diving in to kiss you.Â
since you both know exactly where this is going, youâre a lot more shameless now. you let all the little whines spill from your lips as seungcheol kisses you, each noise just driving him crazier as his tongue licks deeper and harder into the heat of your mouth.Â
he keeps his body hovering over yours, mindful to keep his full weight off of you, even as you tug at his shirt to try and get him to press against you. both his palms roam freely up and over your curves, grabbing greedy handfuls of the flesh through the fabric, yet conveniently avoiding the places right where you want him.Â
frustrated, you bunch your hands in the fabric of his shirt like youâre trying to tear it open, and he chuckles lowly onto your lips.Â
âpatience, sweetheart.â he coos, gently stroking your hair.Â
you groan. âcheol, i want you toââ
he shushes you with a sweet kiss to your lips. you try to slide your tongue past his teeth, but he pulls away, tutting.Â
âi know what you want.â he smiles, pinching your chin between his fingers. âand iâll give it to you. just let me do what i want first, yeah?âÂ
you narrow your eyes at him. you havenât waited literal years to get fucking edged any more by him.Â
you go to argue again, but you shut up real quick when his hand finally finds your breast, gently kneading it. you whine as he swipes a thumb right over your nipple, earning a soft groan from seungcheol in response.Â
âi knew you werenât wearing a bra.â he says hoarsely, seemingly entranced at how the bud hardens through the thin fabric.Â
seungcheol flicks and pinches at your nipples over the dress, and your hips end up unintentionally bucking from the sensitivityâ knocking right into his crotch he was intentionally keeping away from you. seungcheol lets out a heavy breath, looking like youâre crumbling his resolve with every second.Â
âthis fucking dress..â he sighs, almost to himself.Â
âdo you like it?âÂ
âi love it.â he smiles, tapping the strap on your shoulder. âtake this off for me before i rip it?âÂ
you nod, tugging the straps over your arms and pulling the top of the dress down your chest, exposing your bare tits to him. seungcheol watches with a slack jaw, and you worry he might start drooling.Â
you blink, and then he basically jumps at you, latching his mouth to your nipple. you squeak when his tongue swirls over the sensitive budâ keeping the other occupied as he flicks at it with his thumb.Â
seungcheol finally drops his body down to yours, and when you feel the weight of his arousal press at your thigh, in the next breath youâre tugging your dress up to wrap your legs around his pelvis and grinding right up against it.Â
a strained groan from seungcheol rumbles on your chest before his free hand flies down to grab at your ass, a futile attempt to hold you in place as you keep rutting your clothed heat against his.Â
his mouth pops off you, the hand at your nipple reaching up to hold your jaw as a warningâ not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your eyes glint in anticipation. seungcheol notices, and his lip curls.Â
âyou want this too, donât you?â his hand slides down to yours neck, softly pressing in until your breath audibly hitches. you nod frantically. he cocks his head, breathless. âgod, youâll kill me.âÂ
âstop making me wait then.â you pout. admittedly, itâs not like you to forego all foreplay. quite the opposite actually. but youâve also never had a man like choi seungcheol above you. you might as well have orgasmed already with the wet mess thatâs down there, and you need his cock to clean it up yesterday.Â
seungcheol chuckles on his way back down to your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth to suck. your hips grind on him again at the sensation, and this time it gets him to snap.
you gasp when his hand tightens around your throat, pushing you down into the car cushion as he takes over, rolling his hips harshly into yours. you can feel the length of his cock dragging against you, chasing the friction through all the layersâ and another suck of his mouth on your nipple has your eyes rolling back without him even being in you yet.Â
âdidnât you parents teach you how to use your manners?â seungcheol asks you, thrusting at an angle that has his cock prodding right where your hole is. âhm?âÂ
all that leaves you is a whimper when his fingers dig further into your neck, another gush of wetness soaking your underwear.Â
god, you love that heâs older. that heâs got countless years more of experience than you and he knows exactly how to use it. that heâs not afraid to own it anymoreâ talking down at you like youâre a child who needs a scolding.Â
you knew you havenât wanted him since you first met for nothing. seungcheol just keeps getting more and more perfect.Â
âplease,â you nearly cry out, going batshit insane at the feel of his cock grinding against you but not in you. âplease just put it in me already, cheol, seriously,â
youâre not one to beg but you donât even care at this point. youâre so horny you canât remember left from right.Â
thankfully, that seems to tug at his heartstrings. he pulls both hands away from you, reaching down to hike your dress further up your tummy and out of his way. you spread your legs as far as you can in the cramped space, and he cusses lowly when his eyes land on your soaked-through panties.Â
seungcheol shuffles back on the carseat, leaning down until heâs level with your core. tentatively, he trails a finger over the fabric, and he moans when he feels you clench around nothing. you physically canât wait any longer.Â
âstop teasing me, old fucking man.âÂ
seungcheolâs response is closing his mouth over your clothed pussy, causing you to full-body jolt as his tongue drags over the fabric like he canât even wait to get it off first.Â
âfuck.â he groans, and you can hear his lips smacking as he licks the taste of you off them. you prop yourself up by your elbows, and you canât help yourself to whining impatiently as you watch him hook a finger around your underwear to pull it aside.Â
âiâll fuck you soon, sweetheart. promise.â seungcheol smiles up at you, pointer and middle finger spreading your pussy apart. âjust gotta taste you first.âÂ
you sob out into the car when you feel the heat of his tongue dip into your hole, licking up the pooled slick before it drags upwards, stopping to circle at your clit.Â
your hand finds solace in his hair, grabbing at the locks until you damn nearly make a bald patch. seungcheol only encourages you with a moan, the noise vibrating on your pussy.Â
seungcheol mutters curses while he spits directly onto your clit, and you pull at his locks as you jump. he uses two fingers to rub his saliva onto your clit, his mouth diving back down to fuck you on his tongue.Â
youâve never been eaten out like this, like the man down there is a fucking caveman about to starve to death. thereâs no doubt a massive stain on his car seat from all the spit and slick running down from between your thighs. seungcheol doesnât seem to pay the thought any mind, lapping at your clit like a dog while his fingers keep you spread wide open so you can feel him lick at every nerve end.Â
with how heâs eating you out like a madman, itâs barely a few minutes before your stomachâs coiling tight, your moans turning higher and faster as you pulse under seungcheolâs tongue.Â
you whine as you clench down around nothing but air once again, and you hadnât realised your eyes even closed before youâre opening them to stare down at seungcheol.Â
his eyes, however, never left youâ gaze trained on how your face scrunches, lip even curled in that cocky ass way as it closes around your clit to suck harshly. it only makes you clench down again, desperate to feel him in your fucking guts.Â
âf-fuck meââ you manage to get out around a moan. âuse yourââ
thereâs a wet smack as his mouth comes off you.Â
âmanners.â he reminds you, blowing softly on your clit just to be mean, and something that sounds like a sob leaves you.Â
youâre so out of it that you donât even hear the strained âpleaseâ from your mouth since his is immediately back on youâ tongue attentively swirling on your clit as his hand snakes down, sliding his pointer finger into your wet heat.Â
you donât even realise just how hard youâre tugging at his scalp either until his loud moan rumbles on your clit. in retaliation, a second finger joins the first, crooking up to hit your sweet spot.Â
he moans again when you clench down around his fingersâ and when you start to tighten around him in spasms, he knows whatâs happening before you do.
seungcheol starts to curl his fingers relentlessly and hollow his cheeks around your clit just before you can topple off the edge, so your orgasm comes slamming into you like a bag of bricks.Â
you shout something that might be his name in between your borderline screams, seungcheol staying diligent to fuck you with his fingers and suck you with his mouth right until you physically canât shake anymore.Â
as youâre winding down from your high, seungcheol leaves kitten licks on your clit until youâre pawing at him that itâs too much.Â
he smirks, dragging his knuckles against your walls as he pulls his fingers out, leaving one last kiss on your clit before he sits up.Â
when youâre finally not catching your breath anymore, you look back to seungcheol, and youâre instantly ready to go again when you see heâs palming himself over his slacks as he licks the taste of you from his fingers.
you grab at his belt loop to weakly tug him closer, batting your lashes as you ask: âmy turn?âÂ
he chuckles hoarsely. âif we werenât in this car, it wouldnât be your turn for a longââ he cuts himself off with a hiss when you grab his whole length through his slacks.Â
it sits heavy in your palm, twitching just from the heat of your touch. you stroke him over the damp mess of fabric, and he gets lost in the feel of your hand for only a momentâ eyes fluttering shut as he breathes out a moanâ before heâs stopping you with a firm hand around your wrist.Â
âfuck, if you do that..â
you pout. âyou promised me.âÂ
he nods, before the lust-fuelled haze falters for just a moment. he goes silent, and youâre worried he may be getting cold feet before he mutters: ââŠi donât have a condom.âÂ
you blink, unphased. âthen just donât go inside.â
âwhat?â his eyes go wide as saucers. âsweetheart, donât just go saying things if youâre notââ
âiâm certain, cheol.â you reassure him, this close to just jumping him like a tree. ânow hurry up.âÂ
âfuck, youâre gonna be the death of me.âÂ
âgoing dry over hereââ
you gasp out a moan when seungcheol plunges two fingers into you, curling them without warning.Â
âthought you wanted this old man?âÂ
the motherfucker just smirks as he keeps fucking into that spongey spot, his free hand working on unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.Â
âgod, lucky iâm not going inside. youâre so fucking tight, baby.â you clench around his fingers at the name, and he breathes out a moan at the revelation. âyou like being called that? huh? baby?â he coos, and you can only nod weakly in response.Â
you donât even realise heâd pulled his pants and boxers down until his dick is bobbing out and slapping his shirt, a string of precum connecting it. you just gape at the size of him, watching in awe as he pulls his fingers out from your pussy and strokes himself with your slick. his eyes flutter shut as he fucks his fist, moaning softly into the car.Â
suddenly not having a condom is the least of your worries.Â
âtake these off for me?â he says hoarsely, tugging at your panties.Â
âtheyâre already to the side.âÂ
âi want to see all of you. i havenât waited this long to notâŠâ he trails off, hoping you donât mention it. you do.Â
âoh, have you thought about this before?â you grin.Â
his mouth opens then shuts, mind gone blank at the sight of your bare pussy laying before him. he nods.Â
the confession shoots straight down to your core, and seungcheol exhales when your pussy visibly twitches. âmy fucking god.âÂ
you make a mental note to hound him later to know exactly how heâs thought about you like this in the past.
he leans in, and you squirm when his tip nudges your clit. he guides his cock down, cursing when his head is soaked in the slick pooled at your hole. briefly, you think his self-control is going to snap, before his cock travels back up, smearing your pussy in the mix of your arousal and his pre.Â
seungcheolâs already heaving above you, eyes trained on how you clench around thin air while his cock rubs over your clit.Â
you actually canât take it anymore.Â
âcheol,â you grab at his cock, and he keels over with a moan at your vice grip. âi canât do this. i need you in me.âÂ
âshâfucking shit,â he moans, âbaby, as much as i want to we canât,âÂ
âi donât care.â you near sob. âyou promised me you would, please, if youâve really waited this long then show me. you can even keep my panties.â
his hips buck at the thought, right into the circle of your fist, and he twitches violently in your palm with a tortured groan. you think you could throw up from how badly you want to feel that twitching and leaking inside you.Â
âokay,â seungcheol pulls out from your hand, face contorting. âokay. but the second you want to stopââ
ânot gonna wanna stop.â you grin, triumphant.Â
he shakes his head with a smile like heâs in disbelief. he holds your hamstrings with his hands, lining himself up with your core. you whine when his tip nudges into your heat. seungcheol takes a moment to breathe before he slowly inches forward, giving you time to adjust to the stretch or to tap out.Â
if he hadnât of fucked you on his fingers, seungcheol wouldâve split you in fucking half right now. the size of him burns, and you dig your fingers into his biceps as you settle around him, pussy fluttering. seungcheol hums softly each time.Â
âfuck,â he laughs out breathlessly. âthis was a bad idea. i donât know how long iâll last.âÂ
âyou can move.â you croak out.Â
seungcheol forces himself to get out a nod, snapping his hips once before youâre both moaning in unison. anyone who walked by the parking lot could probably hear whatâs happening before they see it. thatâs the last thing on your mind though, as seungcheol starts fucking you with a steady rhythm.Â
youâre completely lost in the feel of his cock dragging inside of you, tip fucking right into your g-spot with each precise thrust. you couldnât care less about the gaps in your years of experience when it gets him to fuck you like this, like heâs completely in tune with your body.Â
before you know it youâre pulsing around him like crazy, eyes rolling back into your head, and seungcheol bites down on his lip as he channels all his willpower into fucking you through your orgasm as it washes over you.Â
he canât last as long as he was trying to, and you whimper through the aftershocks of your high just as seungcheol reaches hisâ shooting warm ropes of cum into your pussy.Â
he stops himself from crushing you with elbows planted beside your head as he keels over, and you wince at every ragged twitch of his cock as he pulls out.Â
you both catch your breaths for what may have been minutes, fogging up the car windows.Â
âyouâre trying to kill me.â seungcheol finally speaks, voice strained from all the hooting and hollering.Â
âyouâd deserve it.âÂ
âi would. i meant to ask, before we..â he gestures to your bodies, covered in sweat and spit. âwould you let me take you out? to dinner?âÂ
you narrow your eyes at him. âfinally hungry a year later?âÂ
âbaby, iâve been hungry.â he taps at your still-sensitive pussy and you writhe, swatting him away. he chuckles. âbut i meant everything iâve said tonight. however i can make this up to you, just say the word and iâll do it.âÂ
you hum in thought, before an evil thought bubbles up to the surface.
you smile sweetly, pressing a kiss to his nose. âlet me ask my dad first.âÂ
âș pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader
âș aus: dilf jeonghan, boyfriend jeonghan, jeonghan is a girl dad
âș genres: angst, fluff, smut (18+)
âș word count: 23k
READ PART ONE HERE
âș warnings: toxic family dynamics: jeonghan's ex is a bad person in general (a neglectful parent), talks about speech therapy, speech impediment. jeonghan is an idiot. reader is emotionally constipated. so there's A LOT OF drama.
âș smut warnings: smut with plot (this part has more plot than the previous one, you're warned), they're both crazy for each other, dirty talk, pussy eating, jeonghan is pussy drunk, quickies, make up sex, breeding kink, cowgirl, daddy kink, edging, bathroom sex, silence play, unprotected p in v sex (i'm such a bad influence, wrap it up!), creampies, mating press, yn is slightly đ€đ» bratty, dom jeonghan, aftercare. pet names: babe, baby, beautiful, darling, sweetheart, (hers) babe, daddy (his)
âș author's note: hiiii! i'm here to say thank you guys for the support in the pineapple on pizza? post! it was really nice to see that so many of you enjoyed it, so here is a part two! honestly i enjoyed writing dilf!hannie quite a lot and couldn't get him out of my brain for months so here it is, a part two lol. and this chapter is looooong, so buckle in!
also another note: this is incredibly self indulgent. like everything i write. but i think this one takes the cake.
âș disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and try not to look like a bot please đ
âHave you seen my keys?â
Morning routines were always a mess. Something different happened every time, and somehow, even though youâve done this more than a dozen times, it was still hard to catch up.
But you were getting the hang of it.
The apartment was a controlled chaos, as you liked calling it. The air smelled of coffee and the soft fragrance that Jeonghan wore to work. Repetition was starting to have its effect as you began to associate your mornings with those two scents.
âHave you tried looking under the couch?â you asked, turning around with a small bowl in your hands. You placed it carefully on the small tabletop of Soheeâs booster seat and watched quietly as she sank her little spoon into her bowl of cereal and milk.
âI shouldâve added more milk,â you mumbled, biting on the inside of your cheek.
The little girl didnât seem to notice, though. She ate happily, kicking her feet in the air and clapping her tiny hands together as she chewed, milk dripping from the corners of her pouty mouth.
You heard a sigh, and then the sound of footsteps approaching from the hall, and you lifted your head.
Jeonghan was still buttoning his perfectly ironed shirt, his hands going lower and lower, distracting you from your initial task. You felt your lips parting before forcing any kind of control onto your facial expression. His black trousers were also yet to be fixed, but as he finished buttoning his shirt, he tucked it inside his pants, quickly fastening his belt.
You lowered your gaze to the little girl slamming her palms onto the tabletop. Sohee was dancing happily. And you were glad that you had zero witnesses to your ogling your boyfriend quite shamelessly.
You brushed crumbs off the table, picked up the empty bowl and put it away. âAlright,â you said with a sigh, pretending to be deeply focused on the morning routine. âDid you find them?â
When you looked up, you found that Jeonghan had also been staring. His eyes were trained on the scene happening before him. His mouth parted, and he appeared to be confused for a split secondâgiving himself a very brief shake. âYeah,â he smiled shyly and patted the pocket of his trousers. âUnder the bed.â
âHuh,â you grinned. âHow could they have gotten there?â you asked, innocently tilting your head.
Jeonghan sighed. The smile was still glued to his face, but it slowly brushed off as he raised his wrist to his face, looking at his watch. âIâm late,â he said, delivering the words with an annoyed edge in his tone. âFuck. Iâm so late,â he added, turning around to grab the jacket that had been previously placed on the couch.
Panic rushed in your veins. It was a big day for Jeonghan at his workâhe had a big meeting in which it was certain that he would get some good news about a project that he had proposed for the company he worked for. You knew what this meant for him.
You looked at the time. His shift started earlier than yours did, and with another twist to your stomach, you knew that he wouldnât be able to drop Sohee off at the daycare and then make it on time to his meeting.
âGo. Iâll drop Sohee at daycare,â you blurted right as he was throwing Soheeâs things into her bag.
His gaze snapped up and locked onto your face. The shock was flitting, but you were able to catch it before he blinked and parted his mouth to say something.
But you were quickerâ âHere. Take my car and Iâll take yours so I can put Sohee in her car seat. We can switch later,â you said, stumbling over your words as you fished your car keys from the pocket of your smart trousers, handing them to him.
Jeonghan straightened, fixing the wire-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his noseâyou always went a little crazy when he did thatâbut this time he placed his hands on his hips, his face thoughtful, calculating. âAre you sure? I donât want to cause an inconvenience withââ
âBabe, youâre not causing anything,â you insisted, thrusting your fist holding the keys into the space between you and him. âTake my car. Go to your meeting. Iâve got Sohee.â
At that, Jeonghanâs face relaxed, starting to approach you with a softened look on his faceâlike he could melt just at the sight of you. He took the keys from your hand. âYouâre godsent, did you know that?â he asked, his tone low as he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you to his body.
âIâm just here to help,â you said lightly, meeting his gaze as he bent his head to meet your lips with his own.
Jeonghan gave you one feathery kiss. âThank you, baby,â he whispered, pushing his lips on yours again. âBe careful, okay? Call me if anything happens.â
You smiled against his lips. âI got this,â you repeated in a sweeter tone.
Part of you was sure that Jeonghan knew this as well. But Sohee was his entire world. And he was quite literally leaving her in your hands.Â
And you were unsure as to what to think about it.
Jeonghan turned, peeling himself from your lips with a begrudged groan and placed a kiss on top of Soheeâs head. âGoodbye, sweetheart,â he cooed gently.
Your tummy twisted again. This time, the reaction was from the way Jeonghan switched into dad mode in the blink of an eye. The switch from hot boyfriend to diligent father never failed to mess with you.
Sohee lifted her head, her eyes looking at her dad, but she didnât respond.
âBe good today, okay? Eat all of your meals and try not to miss me too much,â Jeonghan insisted, trying to get her to utter something. âIâll see you later, sweetheart. Byeee,â he cooed again.
But Sohee kept looking at her father fixedly.
âSweetheart, say bye,â Jeonghan encouraged Sohee again, this time lower but still gentle.
âMaybe sheâs not feeling it today, babe,â you muttered behind him.
A few weeks ago, Jeonghan confided in you that he started to notice that Sohee often froze at the moment of speaking full sentences. Initially, he had brushed it off, thinking that his daughter was innately shy, just like himself. But as months passed by and she continued developing other social skills, he began to believe that it was something else.
âRight,â Jeonghan mumbled, not hiding the slight look of worry on his face. But he leaned and propped another kiss on her forehead before stepping back. He kissed you on the cheek, handing you the keys to his car.
âGood luck,â you mumbled, and he replied with a quick nod. You and Sohee watched quietly as Jeonghan slipped through the door.
As soon as the door clicked shut, you realized what you had gotten yourself into. It was supposed to be a simple task, yes. But it had a thousand layers of meaning beneath it. Taking Sohee to daycare was something you could do every day, gladlyâbut something felt off.
Like you were starting to cross a line, and neither Jeonghan nor you knew how to talk about it.
Taking Sohee to her daycare was one thingâdriving Jeonghanâs SUV was another.
It wasnât a particularly daring task either, but it also put your nerves on edge. After fixing Soheeâs daycare bag and your own stuff, you grabbed her first, hoisting her up your hip, and then you swung your bag and Soheeâs on your shoulder.
âReady to see your friends today, Sohee?â you asked, raising your tone into a sweet one. It felt practiced, and you remembered the first few times you ever did itâhow it made your cheeks flush in embarrassment. But after a time, you could say that you understood why people would talk in a cute way to kids, it came naturally.
âYeah,â Sohee replied, the word landing almost aloofly. Like you had just caught her in a moment where she didnât find any barriers for her to speak.
You pushed the button of the elevator and slowly moved your head to look at her.
Sohee was a perfect little girl of almost three years of age. When you met her over half a year ago, you were sure you were holding a little angel. She was gentle and sweet. Her head was full of dark hair that matched her long eyelashes, just like her fatherâs.
âOh, yeah? What are their names?â you asked, eyeing her as you stepped into the elevator with her still attached to your hip.
âDany,â she mumbled perfectly, raising her tone as though she were about to make a list of names.
âDany? Okay, and who else?â
âNora,â she said, quieter this time.
The elevator paused on its way down, opening the doors for another person to step in. You knew the conversation was over.
Sohee fell silent, lowering her gaze from you and fixing it on one point on your shirt. You realized after a few seconds that she was staring at your hand, at your painted fingernails. What made you certain was the way she raised her hands to her gaze, comparing her fingernails to your own.
Something twisted inside you, the idea of her and you doing each otherâs nails dawned in your head. And you knew what that pang in your stomach wasâpossibility. You were thinking of the future.
âHere we go,â you mumbled as you approached Jeonghanâs navy blue Kia Seltos. The fresh smell of new and clean leather still lingered inside it as you opened the door and put Sohee in her chair.
She never complained, just quietly sat on the chair and looked at you as you fixed the buckle of her safety belt.
âSafety first,â you said, trying to fill in the silence. You grabbed one of the toys from the toy basket sitting beneath her seat and showed it to her. âLook, itâs Rory!â you cried dramatically, showing her the dinosaur plushie that you knew she loved.
Sohee extended her arms and made grabby hands at the green and very cute T. rex. She didnât speak again, no matter how hard you tried to get her to say something.
The parking lot was buzzing with activity, cars coming and going, hustling parents coming in and out of the building, dropping their kids offâand you for sure felt like a fish out of water, but you didnât want to entertain the thought for too long. You signed Sohee in without an issueâthe staff mentioned that as you were dropping Sohee off, Jeonghan had phoned them to let them know you were coming in his stead.
You soothed Soheeâs hair and gave her a quick kiss on her head as she scrunched her fingers on your back, almost affectionately. âYou be good, sweetie,â you said before leaving her and turning to the parking lot, feeling strangely empty when you climbed inside the SUV.
You carried out work as usual. You didnât think about the odd feeling clawing at your heart for the rest of the morning. The second the clock hit one oâclock, your phone started vibrating, snapping you out of your monitor screen. You scrambled to get your phone, only to see Jeonghanâs face on the screen.
âHello?â you responded with a hushed tone, looking over to see if you had interrupted the workflow in the office. But you realized the space was nearly empty, and everyone had left for lunch.
âAm I interrupting?â Jeonghan noticed immediately by your tone alone.
âNo. I just didnât look at the time,â you told him, pushing yourself off the chair and walking in the direction of the elevator.
âOh, I see. Is this still a good time to speak with you?â he asked.
You smirked at his choice of words. âI donât know, you tell me. Is this a good time for you?â you retorted, noticing that he was also in his cubicle.
âYou got me,â he said, and you could imagine the shy smile on his face. âIâm stepping outside, hold on.â
You pushed the button to the elevator and waited while on the other side of the line, you heard Jeonghan moving.
âOkay, Iâm out,â he said with a sigh. âAre you going to the food court?â he asked.
Jeonghan knew your schedule well, and he was also very familiar with your routine since you always kept him in the loop of the things you did. When you started dating, you would quite practically narrate to him your daily life through text messages, to the point that he knew all of your co-workers by name without knowing them in person.
âYes,â you replied, stepping out of the elevator.
âChicken salad?â he asked with a low tone, making you think that he probably had some co-worker passed him by.
âOh, I think Iâm moving on from that,â you told him. âI want a burrito. A chicken burrito.â
âOof, how different,â he teased.
âLet me be,â you bit back and then frowned, suspecting something was off.
âI will. But Iâm going to tease you about it either way,â he said with a brief laugh. âHow is work going?â
âFine,â you replied simply. But it was then that you dared to ask, âIs something going on, babe? Youâre never this weird.â
Jeonghan sighed, and you knew he was smiling. âAm I being that obvious?â he said, and then, before you could say something, he continued. âI just wanted to tell you to come tonight and have dinner with Sohee and me.â
âMmn, why do I feel like this couldâve been a text,â you said as you sat down at an empty table that was cluttered with a tray and a single French fry sitting on its box.
He laughed. âI am trying to get somewhere here,â he said.
âYouâre taking a lot of detours!â you laughed with him. âOf course, babe. You know I love having dinner with you and Sohee.â
âGood. Great,â he mumbled, and something about the dejected way his words came out made your ears perk.
A long moment of silence happened between you, where you could hear the sound of his breathing and nothing else. Your gaze fell out of focus, landing on a single grain of salt on the dirty table in the very crowded food court.
âIs everything alright, babe?â you asked, your tone lower. âDid the meeting go well?â
âYeah. Itâs not that. I wantââ he cut himself off, but then, âI want us to talk,â he said.
Your heart fell to your stomach, the feeling so impactful that it left you completely stunned. There was nothing in the world that could replace the feeling youâd get when you heard the words we need to talk, and all of its variations.
âOh, thenât-that changes things,â you mumbled awkwardly, not forgoing that he ignored your initial question.
âWait, no,â he started, noticing the tension in your words. âItâs nothing bad.â
âOkay,â you said under a heavy sigh. âThen tell me now,â you said.
âIâd rather wait until tonightââ
âDid I do something wrong?â you asked instead. And perhaps you couldâve controlled yourself better, but you were fully induced in anxiety now.
âNo. I swear itâs nothing bad,â he told you firmly. âItâs something I have been wanting to ask you.â
You started toying with the lonely grain of salt with the tip of your finger. âIf it really is nothing bad, then you could ask me now,â you said, fully aware of how shaky your tone was.
âAre you sure?â he asked slowly, stretching out each word.
âVery.â
Jeonghan sighed and then paused. You could picture him clearlyâstanding on the balcony of the building where he worked, looking very polished on the outside but probably tense, judging by his tone alone.
âI was just thinking that weâre always so busy, you with work and me withâwell, with everything andâŠâ You heard him pause, and then release a sigh, and thatâs how you knew he was also steadying himself. âI wanted to know if you would like to move in with us. With Sohee and me.â
In all of the things you couldâve possibly imagined him saying, this wasnât one of them. You straightened in your seat as a chill ran down your spine. âJeonghan, are you serious?â you asked, unable to control how firm you sounded.
âI donât mean now, but sometime in the future. We can plan and see how things go from there,â he offered, and he sounded steady, but you could notice the slight edge of nervousness in it.
The feeling invading your body made you feel as if you had been dropped from a very tall building.
âBabeâŠâ you started, looking for the words to say.
âItâs okay if you want to say no,â he said. âI just wanted to talk about it with you tonight over dinner.â
You closed your eyes, swallowing hard. âIâm not saying no,â you told him.
âYouâre not saying yes either,â he sighed in defeat. âIâm rushing into things.â
Your chest caved in. You wanted to say yes, you wanted this. But there were so many things that you thought needed to happen before you moved in with him and his daughter. In your book, things like the first I love you had to happen before sharing a roof with that person. Or at least knowing them for a full year.
Oh, and the judgment. Your friends already thought you were insane for dating a single parent, and now you were moving in with him eight months after meeting him? Not only that, your whole life had taken a turn when you started dating Jeonghanâto the point that the person you were a year ago wouldnât recognize the person you were now.
âCan we talk about it tonight over dinner?â you asked, your tone tiny.
âOf course. We can talk about it more calmly,â he said, and you couldnât ignore the note of sadness in his words. âI get it, baby. I shouldâve waited. Iâm sorry.â
âNo, Jeonghan. You did nothing wrong,â you said, but then something felt off.
âListen, I have to go back. See you tonight?â he asked, and you caught the way his tone picked up. Something had come up.
You deflated completely. âSee you tonight, Jeonghan.â
And then something hung in the air. An unspoken thing between you, something that needed to be said.
Your heart started to hope.
But then the line went dead.
There was a thought that you couldnât quite keep away. When you met Jeonghan, you instantly knew this man was for youâevery bone, every nerve ending in your body told you that. Then, when you knew he was a single father, you knew that a relationship with him would be challenging. But it turned out to be easier than expected.
However, things started to shift from the first night you and he took things to the next level. Spending the night in his bed was a very conscious decision you both made. You were both ready, and truth be told, aching for each other. What you didnât foresee was that you were climbing those steps into a serious relationship without paying attention to how fast and how uncontrolled you were.
Now, it felt as though you were in too deep, but there were no rules or boundaries in place.
You gnawed on your lower lip, debating whether to write him a text telling him that you knew he meant well by his proposition.
Instead, you got up and went to the nearest convenience store, got a sandwich, and ate half of it on the elevator ride back to your office.
The rest of your shift happened in a blink. Thankfully, you were so busy that the aftermath of that call with Jeonghan was pushed to the second plane of your brain. You would sometimes remember it with a jolt in your stomach. And he also didnât text you afterwards, which meant that he was also probably busyâor thatâs what you wanted to believe anyway.
You came out of the office some four hours after the phone call, scrambling inside your handbag to get your car keys.
Your phone started vibrating furiously somewhere in one of the many pockets, your heart deflating stressfully in the thought that it could possibly be Jeonghan. A flashing thought drove that anxiousness right into your soul, telling you that he would be telling you that tonightâs plans were off.
But it was an unknown caller. And you picked up solely on the thought that it would be a work-related thing.
âYes?â you said, putting your bag on top of the trunk of your car.
The caller was a woman with a very polite tone, asking for you using your full name.
âThis is her,â you replied almost routinely.
âHi! This is Katy from the Speech and Learning Center. Am I speaking to Soheeâs mother?â
âOhââ you gasped, leaving the task of finding your keys completely abandoned due to the sheer shock that question gave you. âNo. Iâm her fatherâs partner. Is something wrong?â
âOh, no. Everything is fine. Iâm so sorry, maâam,â Katy responded kindly. âWe have you on Soheeâs file as the emergency contact in case her father doesnât answer, and weâve tried him three times just now, but no answer. Are you able to make choices about her appointments with us?â
âGod,â you mouthed to yourself, screwing your eyes shut. âUm, Soheeâs birthday is on Friday, so Thursday would probably be better,â you responded automatically, and then you stopped yourself with a shake. âBut I think you should try her father again.â
But then you rememberedâJeonghan had mentioned a very important meeting, the one where his boss would determine whether he had the promotion or not.
âI believe he was in a meeting. Maybe you should try inâŠâ you checked your watch. âTwenty minutes. He should be off by then.â
âUnderstood. I will call him instead. Well, I thank you for picking up this call and wish you a good rest of your day. Bye!â
âThanks. You too,â you replied shakily.
And then she hung up.
The drive to Jeonghanâs apartment felt like an out-of-body experience. You felt yourself driving, but at the same time, your mind was somewhere else. After being hit with two reality checks, one after another, you were reconsidering what to do, what to say to Jeonghan once you saw him.
He had assigned you as Soheeâs emergency contact. Not her grandmother, not her aunt. And certainly not her mother. You.
It shouldnât be a big dealâmaybe you were making it into a big deal. But after Jeonghan had told you he wanted you to move in with him and his daughter, this just felt like too much.
You turned the doorknob of his apartment door as you released a shaky sigh, trying to drive out all your nervousness. But as you entered and laid eyes on him, you knew it would be impossible not to be nervous for the remainder of the night.
Jeonghan was sitting on the couch, baby Sohee sitting safely on his thigh as he held a triceratops in one hand, making it clash gently against Soheeâs brontosaurus. His gaze immediately switched to the door as you crossed it. Then tension set in, making the features of his face harden.
And you probably were mirroring that same expression. You closed the door behind you quietly and removed your shoes by the entrance.
Jeonghan placed Sohee on the couch carefully as you walked to the living room, feeling strange.
âHey,â he said, reading your face with his eyes.
Your heart was racing incredibly fast. âHi,â you replied.
âI got it,â he said with a big sigh.
Understanding dawned on you with a blink. âYou got promoted?â
He nodded, but his expression was still blank.
âOh my god!â you gasped, thinking that the tension in his demeanor was due to the call from earlier. âCongratulations!â you said excitedly, going for a hug.
Jeonghan didnât appear to be happy, not precisely. But he wrapped your torso in his arms, hugging you tightly. âThank you, baby,â he sighed, sinking his face into the crook of your neck.
Then you felt a pair of tiny hands palming your leg intuitively. You pulled away from Jeonghanâs arms, looking down to spot Sohee trying to get your attention.
âI think sheâs feeling left out,â Jeonghan interpreted keenly.
âOh, my bad,â you giggled and bent down to hug her. âCome here, princess,â you spoke softly to her as you lifted her in your arms.
âLook,â Sohee said quietly, showing you a new dinosaur toy.
âWow, what is this?â you asked her, your tone turning into honey.
âSaurus,â she mumbled shyly, still showing you her dinosaur figurine.
âA stegosaurus,â Jeonghan informed you quietly as he watched you carry Sohee in your arms. And there was that look again. The one you had seen in the morning. He was watching intently, calmlyâlike he wanted to remember this moment forever without missing a thing.
âThis is so cool,â you told her, still using that tone. âIs this the one you liked the most?â you asked her.
She listened to you intently, but her gaze was fixed on her figurine. She shook her head.
âShow her your favorite one, sweetheart,â Jeonghan said as you placed her back on the floor.
She ran back to the couch, grabbed the forgotten dinosaur and brought it back to you. You crouched to be at eye level with her as she showed you a new Triceratops.
âDid you just get these?â you asked her sweetly, your tummy twisting in cuteness aggression as she just nodded, ruffling her black hair.
âIt was one of her birthday gifts. I thought that it would be safe to keep them stashed in my closet, but I guess that I shouldâve known better,â he said guiltily, crouching with you as Sohee went on to show you her new collection of dinosaur toys.
âYouâre a very observant girl, arenât you?â you asked her, to which she ignored completely.
You could feel Jeonghan beside you, his gaze set on you as you continued your silent exchange with Sohee. After some seconds of feeling the weight of his gaze on you, you glanced to his direction.
âCan we talk?â he whispered as soon as he caught your eye.
You nodded, tummy twisting uneasily.
Jeonghan opened and then closed the fridge in one short motion. He placed his empty hands on his hips as he released a sigh. You noticed then that he was anxious. âSoheeâs mother is coming to town.â
You froze in place.
Of course. You shouldâve expected her to be for her daughterâs birthday. But part of you was also completely vexed about this piece of informationâsince you had believed for a moment that Jeonghan wanted to talk about the proposal heâd made earlier. But Soheeâs mother rarely called, to the point that in the eight months youâve been dating Jeonghan, you had never even seen her in person.
âOh, I see,â you said, swallowing hard. And then you added quite awkwardly: âIs she⊠did you⊠Did she call to see what you would do for Soheeâs birthday?â
Jeonghan understood where your curiosity came from. But he was still looking at you wearily, just like all the times he talked to you about a difficult thing in his life. Like the time he told you about his daughter, or the time he told you about Soheeâs absent mother.
It made your stomach churn.
And you knew what it was. It was selfishness.
âNo. I called her,â he said. You knew that he was telling you the truth, and in doing so, he was nervous. âSoheeâs birthday is one of the few times I can get her mother to come see her, soâŠâ
âI understand,â you said, resuming to set the table with the tablecloth and the dishware. âDo you⊠want me here that day?â
âOf course I do,â he said. You glanced his way, seeing his worried faceâhis eyebrows knitting softly. âDo you want to be here?â
âAs long as you are comfortable with it, yes,â you said, and then added: âI just donât want to complicate things.â
Jeonghan rolled his eyes. âBelieve me, things canât get more complicated with her. Soomin is justâŠâ he shook his head lightly. âWell, youâll see.â
You exhaled sharply. âOkay⊠no pressure,â you mumbled.
All you knew about Soomin was that she was not present in Sohee and Jeonghanâs lives from the moment Sohee turned eight months old. Her reason for parting and leaving everything behind was simplyâI donât want this lifeâand one day she packed her bags and left. Some months later, Jeonghan asked her for full custody of the baby, receiving it without any fight from her.
âIs she coming the day of?â you asked.
âOn Thursday afternoon, after Soheeâs therapy,â he said. And then you noticed that the anxiety hadnât quite brushed off. âI want you to meet her that day. That way we can have the party without any issues, if any.â
You raised your eyebrows, watching him from the other side of the table. âThat bad?â
He nodded silently, throwing a look to the living room, where Sohee was dancing around to the music playing on the TV screen. âI just donât want her to make a scene on Soheeâs birthday, you know? Itâs supposed to be her day.â
The tension in your shoulders dissolved when you turned over your shoulder and saw baby Sohee bending her knees to the rhythm of the music, her tiny hands planted on the sofa to keep herself steady as she danced happily. Your stomach twisted with the realization that you loved Sohee in a way that you wanted to protect her, care for her.
You had gotten irrevocably attached.
You took a deep breath, slowly turning to see Jeonghan. âDonât worry, babe,â you told him, smiling at him as you approached him again. âWeâll make Soheeâs day just about her, alright?â you said, pushing yourself to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
Jeonghan smiled softly. âAlright,â he said.
You stared at that smile on his face for one long second, and slowly, the memory of the phone call from earlier came back to your mind. Your heart faltered. You carefully thought of how to open the conversation, but nerves got the better of you firstâ âAbout earlierâŠâ you said in a whisper, pausing to clear your throat. âWere you serious? About me moving in?â
Jeonghan inhaled slowly, blinking away from your face briefly, glancing to where his daughter was in the living room. âWe donât have to rush,â he said, licking his lips before turning his gaze back to you. âItâs a big step, but it makes sense, right? I mean, youâre already here all the timeâŠâ
You studied him for a brief moment. You were hearing him, but all you could think about was the way his shoulders were tight, the way he was gripping the back of the chair with one hand. And more than everything elseâthe way he wasnât meeting your eyes.
âIt feels fast, Jeonghan,â you said carefully.
âIt feels right,â he countered, taking one step towards you. His face had changed now that you could see him with more closenessâhis dark eyes were full of certainty, full of tenderness. âI want you here. With us. Youâre already here all the time, you do morning routines with us, put her in bed, and drop-offsâŠâ
Your chest tightened. Something felt off. And then by pure instinct, you glanced at Sohee. The baby had stopped moving, her gaze fixed on the flat screen mounted on the wall, sticking her index finger in her mouth quite aloofly.
But the sight of her made your tummy twist even harder. It was the realization hitting you like a train. If you lost thisâif Jeonghan and you ever get to a point where you split, you would lose Sohee as well. The mere thought threatened to break your heart.
His gaze shiftedâand without following it, you knew that he was looking at Sohee. âIâm just⊠scared of doing this wrong way, you know?â
You reached for his face, cupping it with your hands to draw his gaze back to you again. âThen we should slow down,â you said, your heart protesting against your words with a stabbing pain. âJust a little.â
He swallowed hard. âOkay,â he breathed.
âYeah?â you replied in kind. âWe slow down for just a little while. We could talk about it again when the timing feels right.â
Jeonghan grabbed one of your wrists, squeezing it gently. He looked relieved, so much so that the next sigh he let out was slow as he leaned his forehead on yours. âIâm sorry. The last thing I want is to rush you,â he whispered.
âItâs okay,â you replied, despite your heart deflating a little. âI understand. Just know that Iâm not saying no. Okay?â you said, raising your tone just a little bit higher, trying to swallow your nerves.
âOkay,â Jeonghan replied with a breathy giggle, hearing your nervous tone.
You felt his lips grazing yours before he kissed you fully. It was then that you felt those three littlewords sitting on the tip of your tongue. You were falling for him, fast and uncontrollably. But instead of telling him that, you pushed your lips against his, kissing him fervently.
But then a sharp, and very high-pitched laugh pulled you both apart. Baby Sohee was laughing at something happening on the TV. You broke away and stepped back from Jeonghan.
âIâll⊠bring her to her chair so she can have dinner,â Jeonghan said. And by the look in his eyes, you knew that there was something else on his mind.
You let out a tired breath. âWhat a Monday,â you sighed.
âWelcome to my life,â Jeonghan replied. Â
After dinner, Jeonghan started to ready Sohee for bed, and that usually involved a bath, brushing teeth and then bed. It took him around thirty or forty minutes. And in that time, you usually took it upon yourself to tidy the space up. Initially, you had started doing it to kill the time while waiting for Jeonghan to come backâdespite his insistence for you not to do itâbut lately, it felt like it was part of your routine too.
You had put all of Soheeâs toys in the basket, folded the blankets and were now doing the dishes. The task had fallen into a steady rhythm, and so you were deeply focused on washing a pan when a pair of arms snaked around your waist, startling you.
âStay the night,â Jeonghan said, his tone low as he bent his head to rest it on your shoulder.Â
Your tummy twisted.
Ever since you slept with Jeonghan for the first time, you had fallen into a pattern of addiction. You would stay over at every chance you could get, which, granted, werenât as many since you had a very hectic work schedule as a CEO Assistant and he as a single parent, and now newly ascended to Director. But even as you had finally stepped to that level of intimacy, it was life that constantly would get in the way. It wasnât as easy to find a time for you to come to his apartment, and it would be nearly impossible for Jeonghan to spend the night at yours.
You felt his lips grazing a particular tender spot on the crook of your neck. âHannie,â you sighed, recoiling from his sweet kisses.
âWhat?â he mumbled against your skin, you could tell from his tone that he was smiling. But he didnât stop kissing your neck slowly.
You swore you could melt. When you took too long to respond, he giggled gently against your skin.
âWant me to stop?â
You had already scrubbed every inch of the pan you were holding under the stream of water; the task had been long forgotten. âNo, I want you to let me finish doing the dishes,â you replied with a playful tone.
âAlright, my bad,â he said, stepping back from you and starting to put things away in the kitchen.
You watched him through the corner of your eye as he roamed all over the space. Feeling the absence of his touch on your skin made you swallow hard. âI didnât say you had to stop,â you mumbled, feeling hot on the cheeks.
Jeonghan huffed, clearly still amused. âBaby, weâve been going like this for weeks,â he said pointedly, then chuckled as he threw a look at your face, finding your pout.
Since the night when you slept with Jeonghan for the first time, you have had very few occasions of true intimacy. However, that didnât stop Jeonghan from teasing you, touching you in places he hadnât dared before that night, but now he did it at every chance he could get when no one else was looking.
It got you nervous. You liked him too much. Every time he touched you intimately, your mind would be thrown back to those nights where it was just you and Jeonghan. It made your blood dance, heating your entire body.
Only Jeonghan had that power.
You placed the last item on the drying rack and grabbed the hand towel, drying your hands before returning it to its place. âFine, Iâm done doing the dishes,â you said, putting your hands on your hips. âWhere were we?â
Jeonghan let out a teasing huff. âYouâre cute,â he said with a chuckle.
âYouâre a tease,â you bit back, trying to sound as annoyed as you could, but instead your tone denoted how flustered you already were.
Jeonghan rolled his eyes at you, the smirk not washing off his face. âSo? Are you staying or not?â he asked, his tone still playful.
âOnly if you behave,â you said impishly.
Jeonghan raised his eyebrows, stepping closer to you. âMe?â he asked, his tone rising. He was close enough now that all he had to do was lift his hand to cup your face, fixing your gaze on him. âAll I do is what you tell me, baby,â he said, his tone so low and raspy it was almost like a purr.
âSo whenever you misbehave, is it because I told you to?â you huffed, not caring that his face was closer to yours now.
He smirked slowly as his eyes outlined your face. âObviously,â he shrugged lightly. He finally closed the space between your lips and his, kissing you tenderly. âI always behave. While you, on the other handâŠâ
He didnât finish his sentence, his gaze dipping to look at your lips briefly before he kissed you again. You smiled into the kiss, despite it being chaste in the way that he was only pressing his lips to yours repeatedly, creating soft, wet noises that only incited you to get more.
âBabe,â you muttered, laughing sweetly. âKiss me properly,â you told him.
Jeonghan didnât waste a second. Repositioning his hands around your face, he only leaned in, locking his lips with yours. His kiss was soft, but slow, wet, and so full of heat. You closed your eyes and let him dominate the kiss, parting your mouth when you felt the tip of his tongue swipe your bottom lip, and then you felt his tongue against yours.
Your legs tensed as an automatic response, a shot of arousal coursing through you like lightning. His hands switched from cupping your cheeks to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. That made a silent moan bubble in your mouth, so you grabbed him by the belt in his jeans, pulling him closer to you.
Jeonghan grunted in your mouth and then pushed you to the kitchen counter by simply taking two steps forward, making you take two steps back. His lips took yours with more vehemency now, kissing you deeply, with a very unique urgency. It made you lose control, it made you feel hot all over.
So you pulled back, but not far. âLetâs go to bed, yeah?â you said breathily, running a hand over his clothed chest.
Jeonghan smiled, making you think that heâd say something about your nervousness again. But he grabbed your hand, âAlright,â he said, and then he pulled you in the direction of his bedroom.
Whenever you stayed the night, you would wear Jeonghanâs clothesâmostly oversized t-shirts and sometimes sporty shorts. So much so that youâd noticed Jeonghan kept the clothes heâd lent you in a particular spot in his closet, making you suspect that he probably had stopped wearing them, only to keep them clean in case you came to stay the night.
Your gut twisted when Jeonghan pulled the same oversized t-shirt and handed it to you. âYou know, you could bring some stuff in. Iâll empty a drawer for you,â he mumbled, turning on the bedside lamp.
He always said something akin to those words whenever he had the opportunity. It reminded you of his other requestâof moving in. âYeah, Iâll bring some spare pyjamas,â you replied nervously, turning on your feet to start unbuttoning your shirt.
âAnd maybe clothes for work?â he asked, and you could hear the hint of hope in his tone.
You already had a toothbrush and makeup remover wipes that you once bought to keep in Jeonghanâs bathroom. That time youâd also felt you were stepping over a line, for some reason. But Jeonghan thought it was endearing that you had asked him for permission beforehand. You donât have to ask, he told you every time.
âYeah, that too,â you replied, sounding short of breath. When finished unbuttoning your shirt, you threw a look behind you, seeing that Jeonghan had just turned his gaze elsewhere in that instant. You smiled to yourself, noticing that he, too, was acting strange, fidgety.
Or perhaps it was just staying behind the line you always painted. That was another thing that drove you crazy about this manâhe always waited for your word. But he kept a keen eye on you, certainly making sure that you were not having trouble initiating. And this time was no different.
You liked Jeonghan. No, you loved him. And tonight, with all those questions roaming about in your mind, questions about moving in, taking care of Sohee, meeting her mother⊠You were simply too much in your head.
And Jeonghan knew.
After brushing your teeth and cleaning your makeup off, you slid into the bed beside him. He was eyeing you and the screen of his phone back and forth, waiting for you. âReady?â he asked.
Your stomach twisted again. âHuh?â
Jeonghan smiled at you. âTo sleep?â he added.
âAh. Yes. Oh, yeah,â you stuttered nervously, scooting closer to him.
Jeonghan left the phone on the bedside table and turned the lamp off. He turned around, draping an arm around your waist as you also turned, forming up a spooning situation where he was the bigger spoon. He kissed your shoulder over his clothes, and then your cheek.
âDid you have a good day at work?â he asked, his tone soft and low.
You blinked, turning slightly to look at him. âYeah. Why?â you asked.
He shrugged. âHopefully I didnât distract you too much with my stupid phone call,â he said.
Your heart softened. âIt was okay, babe. Today's work was nothing out of the ordinary,â you told him, and then showed him a playful smile. âAnd I love your phone calls.â
âNo matter how inopportune they are?â he asked, his tone waning ever so softly.
You nodded. âThey never are. Stupid or inopportune,â you replied, your tone waning too.
He paused, looking briefly at your lips before bringing a hand to pinch your chin softly. âWhere were you my whole life?â he asked.
Your heart could burst. You wanted to say a million things to him. You wanted to tell him how you fell in love with him at first glance, you wanted to tell him you loved him.
But you choked up. âI could say the same,â you whispered. And you werenât lyingâdespite having had other boyfriends in the past, you had never ever felt love like this in your life. It only made you think that Jeonghan hadnât either. And the thought broke your heart.
He smiled, moving his head so he could touch your forehead with his. âIâm never letting you go, you hear me?â he said.
You nodded. âNever.â Please.
You and Jeonghan fell asleep shortly after that, going back to your original spooning position. He wrapped an arm around you, and you snuggled close to him under the covers. Sleeping with him was extraordinarily goodâhe never moved, never snored, and you were careful not to disrupt his sleeping either.
Somewhere in the middle of the night, you felt him stir and slip out of bed. You became too conscious about it because the bed grew colder around you, and it was getting harder to go back to sleep.
You turned over, thinking that you mightâve done something to wake him up. But he was nowhere to be seen. âJeonghan?â you called.
He stepped into the bedroom, carefully leaving the door ajar. âDid I wake you?â he asked, his tone low.
You watched him as he came back to bed. âWhatâs wrong?â you asked instead.
He sucked in a breath when he felt your warm body, as though he had been exposed to a chill temperature. âSoheeâs mother called.â
âThis late?â you asked. âIs she okay?â
âYeah. Sheâs fine. I suppose she didnât look up what our time zone was before calling,â he explained calmly.
âWell, what did she have to say?â you asked, feeling sharply awake now.
He slipped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him. His clothes were cold, as well as his skin. He was probably having the phone call outside on the balcony so as not to wake you or Sohee up. âA bunch of nothings. She cancelled Thursdayâs plan. Said sheâll be meeting us at the party.â
You couldnât help but feel relieved. âDid she say why?â
Jeonghan shrugged. âYeah. But it was all an excuse.â
Something inside you deflated with shame. Here you were, feeling relieved that you wouldnât meet Soomin a day sooner; meanwhile, that also meant that Sohee wouldnât see her mom either until the party. And Jeonghanâs lower tone reflected that pity.
âIâm sorry, babe,â you murmured.
âItâs fine. I had expected something like that,â he replied, but you could still hear the hurt in his tone. âShe promised sheâd be here for Soheeâs birthday. So, Iâll take whatever at this point.â
Now, you were even more reluctant to meet her. Your gut twisted, but before you could even process what type of feeling you were having, Jeonghan kissed your brow, easing the storm cooking up in your mind.
âShall we go back to sleep, beautiful?â he whispered, moving his lips to kiss your eyelid, then your cheekbone.
Jeonghan was so sweet, so loving, that it scrambled your brains to think how he was yours.
His lips reached your cheek, and you moved your face so that the next kiss landed on your lips. He planted a sweet kiss, but then you parted your mouth, trapping his bottom lip in. You kissed him deeply, trying to put all of your feelings into one single kiss.
You wanted to show him that you were madly in love with him without having to say the words. You kissed him with such force that had him moaning in your mouth. He said nothing, only letting you lead as you pushed him by the shoulders, wordlessly telling him to lie on his back.
He gave you one confused look that quickly evaporated once you straddled him. His hands snaked on your thighs as you bent forward, taking his face in your hands to kiss him, moaning on his lips once his fingertips grazed the lace hem of your panties. The sound only gave him the green light to continue, exploring your skin with the pads of his fingers as he hiked the t-shirt up your torso.
You pulled back, but only to let him take the t-shirt off, leaving you only in your panties, and your chest bare for his view. His gaze roamed all over your bare skin, but it was for just a moment. You leaned in again, his hands latching to your waist, while the other fisted your hair by the side of your head.
You shifted on your knees, grounding your hips down on himâbut just barely. Jeonghan was already hard, and you could feel him just by moving on top of him a little.
Dragging your fingernails down his chest, you crawled back to give yourself space to pull his shorts down. Your fingers hooked around the waistband of both his boxers and shorts, and you pulled, uncovering an inch of skin as one of your fingers traced a line over his thin but dark, happy trail.
Jeonghan sucked in a breathâbut this time it was because of something else. âSweetheart,â he mumbled, looking at your hands as you pulled his cock out, grabbing it with your other hand.
âMn?â You raised your gaze to him.
His hands slipped on your hips, clutching you gently as you lifted them to move your panty line aside. âCondom?â he mumbled, groaning and clenching his jaw as you guided the head of his cock down your folds.
You pretended not to hear, lowering your hips and slipping him inside your warm walls, all in one go. And fuck, he was perfectâhis cock was perfect too. The feeling of having him raw and stretching your pussy was the sweetest feeling youâve ever felt. Your mouth fell open, eyebrows drawn together as you started bouncing on him gently.
âFuck,â Jeonghan gasped, closing his eyes before sinking his head back on his pillow.
You anchored your hands on his chest, using him as support to roll your hips on top of him. And yet again, you wondered what the scene would look likeâmiddle of the night, his pants halfway pulled down, you bouncing on top of him with your panties still on and trying your best to be quiet.
But it was nearly impossible. Jeonghan moved his hands from your hips, palming your breasts and caressing your pebbled nipples with the pad of his thumbs. You clenched your teeth together, letting out a soft whine as you ground your hips on him, trying to take his cock deeper into you.
âQuiet, baby,â he said, smirking. But then he moved his hands, one to your hip, the other on your lower abdomen. He pushed your panties further aside, pressing your lower belly with his palm before starting to rub your clit with the pad of his thumb.
âFuckâDaddy,â you mewled, hips buckling on top of him.
âDo you like that?â he asked, his tone low. He glanced at your face once before his gaze dipped to your cunt, moaning at the sight of his cock disappearing inside you.
You nodded, picking up the pace of your hips. The pad of his thumb rubbed your clit steadily, not switching, unstopping. It was driving you closer to the edge with every second that passed, making your walls tighten around his girth.
âIs this what you wanted, baby? Daddyâs cock?â he asked with that lazy smile still on his face, his tone raw, but waning.
It drove you insaneâthe switch from being sweet and gentle to talking to you like that. âMm-mmph,â you admitted.
He tilted his head back slightly, teeth clenched tightly as he tried to exert some control on himself. But as you continued rolling your hips on top of him, you saw him starting to fall apartâhis eyes went white before he squeezed them shut. And then, he made a sound, a long, raspy moan that was stuck in his throat. âBaby, Iâm not going to last long,â he said.
It was your turn to smile now. âThatâs okay, Daddy,â you told him sweetly, and then you tilted your head, showing him a playful side. âI could slow down for you.â
Jeonghanâs eyes rolled to the back of his head. âI donât think thatâll make a difference,â he gritted, smiling despite himself.
His hands switched to your sides, lifting your hips with one powerful groan that rumbled in his chest. The sound made your pulse quicken, and your gaze immediately shot to the door, as though trying to fish for any kind of sounds coming from down the hall.
Jeonghan acted quicklyârolling your back onto the mattress effortlessly. A gasp spilled from your mouth, eyes locking with his as he slid your panties down your legs. And then he crawled between your thighs before taking his t-shirt off.
âWe should be quiet,â you told him, smiling shyly as he placed his palms on your knees, pushing your thighs up to your chest.
âLetâs see how long you can do that,â he replied, letting out a tired giggle.
And he had a point about that. Last time you and Jeonghan had sex, you had been so noisy that the downstairs neighbors made some tacit remarks about a creaky bedframe. So you watched as Jeonghan grabbed a pillow, probably thinking the same as you and placed it behind the headboard.
âCanât make any promises,â you mumbled, still looking as he pulled his shorts and boxers down, taking his hard cock in one hand and guiding it to your drenched pussy. You swallowed hard, holding your breath as the crown of his cock nuzzled against your entrance, and then he slipped inside you, so fucking slow.
You couldnât resist it. The sight of his length disappearing in your mound was alluring, and the feeling of him reaching so deep inside you was even more delicious than riding him. He pushed your thighs to the sides of your ribs by climbing on top of you, so he was now fully pressing your body with his.
Jeonghan smiled. âSee? Didnât last long,â he said, hearing your soft whines as he bottomed out inside you.
âFuckâdaddy,â you gritted, breathing hard under the weight of his body, but you loved it. âMove, please, move.â
You didnât need to begâhe did it right away, pulling back to push right in, creating a steady pace effortlessly. He framed your face with his forearms, his face so close to yours that he only leaned slightly to get a swift kiss. You cupped his head in your hands, lifting your head so you could kiss him deeper, earning a soft moan from him.
It was truly suffocating. The warmth of his body, being so close to him. Looking into his eyes as he claimed your body like it was his. It overwhelmed youâthe need to be his woman and have him like this every night, forever. You were going insane with the mere thoughtâwaves of love and lust coursed through you uncontrollably.
The room became flooded with the muffled sounds of pleasureâthe small whines you made, the short moans Jeonghan let out in between tired breaths, and the very obvious creaking of the bedframe despite the headboard having a pillow to not slam against the wall.
You loved it. Loved how you both had fallen into an addiction of silent quickies in the middle of the night, stifling moans and speaking filth in hushed tones. The sheer adrenaline of trying and failing to be quiet made you wet. You could even catch the slippery sound of your arousal as Jeonghan pushed his cock deep inside you.
âGod,â you gasped when he picked up a pace, fucking you faster, still massaging that glorious spot inside your walls.Â
And you let pleasure bloom inside your body with a hot, intense shiver. Long ago, it was so rare that youâd cum with penetration aloneâbut somehow Jeonghan always made you cum like that, effortlessly. Your mouth dropped open, almost tasting your orgasm on the tip of your tongue.
âYou close?â he asked with sharp, ragged breaths. He gave you a dazed look, outlining your features with his gaze. When you nodded, he gave you another light smile. âLet go, baby.â
You stared into his eyes, watched him as his jaw twitched when he ground his teeth downâyou noticed he was close too. âCum with me?â you asked, cheeks turning hot as you heard how fucking sweet you sounded.
Oh, you were in love. You had come to this realization a while ago, but now it was becoming more and more unbearable. Your mind spun with questionsâdid Jeonghan know? Could he see it in your eyes? Hear it in your tone? There you were, riddled with questions while you were begging for him to cum with you, and he wasnât wearing a condom.
âYouâre cumming first, Babygirl,â he replied, his tone waning.
You couldâve sworn that he had a way to hear your thoughts, but you didnât let that distract youâbecause you were instantly swept over by an intense wave of pleasure. A gasp tore from your chest, and before you could let out a scream, Jeonghan crushed his mouth against yours, drowning out your sounds of pleasure.
He continued thrusting in that same calculated pace until you became a puddle of pleasure. You were wet. Sweaty, hot, and quivering on his bedsheets. And he was kissing you softly, passionately, like he hadnât done before.
âFelt good?â he mumbled.
You nodded. âAmazing,â you drawled sweetly.
âGood,â he mouthed, the muscles of his face tightening, like he was in painâhe was close.
Your heart skipped a beat. âDonât pull out,â you said.
He blinked, his gaze finding you instantly. Â
âPlease,â you whispered, linking your wrists behind his nape, as though trying to hold him right there.
He blinked slowly and then let his forehead rest on top of yours. âFuck,â he sighed, pushing his hips against yours with tight, deep thrusts. You closed your eyes as another euphoric rush gripped your body wholly. âGodâfuck, baby,â Jeonghan drawled, letting out a raw, quiet moan as he gave you a final push, his cock twitching in your walls as he spilled himself deep inside you.
Jeonghan remained there, breathing fitfully, his body completely glued to yours as though unable to move. And then you wished youâd known what to say next. You wished you knew what to do or say after making love. So instead, you moved your face, finding his lips with your own. You kissed him slowly, trying to convey the quick rhythm of your heart, the butterflies swarming inside your chest.
He pressed his lips against the corner of yours, then he kissed your cheek. âYouâre okay?â he whispered, gently pushing the tip of your nose with his before pressing another kiss against your lips.
Your heart gave another leap. âYeah,â you mumbled shakily. âWe should probably get ready to sleep. You have work tomorrow.â
Jeonghan pulled back, blinking at you confusedly. âYeah. Sure,â he replied, his gaze outlining your features. âBut after Iâve taken care of you, baby.â
And when he peeled off your body, you knew you had made a mistake. You felt foolish then, because this man was clearly thrown off by the switch in your tone, confused by your evident refusal to talk about what was going on in your mind.
But he took care of you with the utmost gentleness, offering to start a shower for you, which you declined due to how late into the night it was. However, you cleaned up in the bathroom, and when you came out, he had a glass full of water ready on the bedside table, and heâd already changed the bedsheets.
âI put your clothes in the washing machine and programmed it for a quick start early in the morning,â he said thoughtfully as he unstuck the pillow behind the headboard. âThey should be clean and dry by the time we both get up.â
It made you smileâthe very careful manner in which he was fluffing the pillows as you approached the bed. âThank you, babe,â you replied, feeling your heart warm up.
âDonât thank me,â he whispered, lifting his head as you stood beside him before the bed. âHopefully you will remember to bring in some spare clothes next time?â he insisted, smiling shyly about something, and thenâ âSorry. I keep bringing it up.â
Your heart deflated. âDonât apologize,â you replied, placing your palm on his side, feeling the muscle of his abdomen contract at your touch. âIâll remember to bring some stuff in. I promise.â
âOkay,â he mumbled, grabbing your hand and taking it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. âLetâs go to sleep.â
You nodded, climbing back on the bed and snuggling him close. Jeonghan wrapped your waist with one arm, the little crook beneath your earlobe.
Your heart fluttered. âDo we already have a cake?â you asked suddenly.
Jeonghan pulled back. âWhat?â he mumbled.
You turned slightly. âFor Soheeâs party. Did you order a cake?â
His brow creased. âYes. Why?â he asked curiously.
You turned again, face to your pillow. âItâs nothing. I can bake really good chocolate cakes,â you gave him a light shrug. âThought I could help with something.â
Jeonghan smiled; you felt the change in his breath on your neck, making you shiver. âIâll remember that,â he said, pressing his lips to the first spot of skin he could find. âFor her fourth birthday.â
The knot in your tummy twisted harder. âYeahâŠâ you trailed off, deciding to snuggle closer to him, silently telling him to hold you tighter to his body.
âSleep well, pretty,â he whispered, unaware of the shift happening in you.
Your head was about to blow up. You were sure. And every time you blew air out of your lungs, your abdomen screamed in pain and exhaustion.
âPerhaps Iâm not made for this,â you mumbled to yourself quietly, wrapping the bead around your fingers to secure a tight knot, and then proceeded to put tape on one side of it, sticking it to the wall.
You had successfully decorated the side of the dining room that had the most cleared space for it. There perched a big and colorful daisy of white and light blue petals, with a Happy B-day Sohee sign sitting in the centre in baby pink colors, made by your hand. You had pulled out your party decorating skills, which you had put away since entering college, but they came in handy the moment you realized Jeonghan wasnât planning on decorating.
âOkay,â you sighed tiredly, looking at the wall. Now that you had one task done, you needed to tend to the other two tasks you had set for yourself.
Task number one was decorating, done. Task number two was tidying up the place for the guests. And task number three was psyching yourself up for meeting your boyfriendâs ex, and the mother of his daughter.
Your stomach did that thing againâit felt like some deep part of you protested against what you had ahead for you, and it wanted to draw your attention to it by stabbing you right in the gut.
But you went ahead and tidied the place upâputting toys where they belonged, folding blankets and taking them to the bedrooms, cleaning the kitchen counters, and setting the table just nicely.
Two hours had passed since youâd arrived at Jeonghanâs place, and all of your tasks were done. You realized you could sneak fifteen minutes of mirror talk and touching up your makeup before Jeonghan and Sohee arrived back home.
When you came out of the bathroom, you felt like something was shaking inside your veins, leaving a trail of prickled nerves in its wake. But you took a deep breathâcatching the sweet smell of vanilla, sugar, and cinnamon from the birthday cake set in the centre of the round dining table. You outlined the entire space with your gaze, mentally checking every single item you told Jeonghan you were in charge of getting for the party.
Balloons. Fruit tray. Candy tray. Banana milk. Peach drinks (Soheeâs favorite), candles and goodie bags, which were dinosaur themed.
The smart lock of the main door clicked and beeped, making your stomach contract and your nerves fire up in different directions inside your limbs. Jeonghan was crossing the door carrying a backpack on one shoulder, gift bags hanging on the same arm he was carrying Sohee with.
âHello, you two,â you chirped, anxiety instantly swept when you saw Soheeâs adorable face. âWhat took you so long?â
âSoheeâs teachers,â Jeonghan exhaled tiredly, closing the door behind him and watching you approach him and Sohee. âThey had a lot to say to me. One of them even got emotional.â
âAnd what did they have to say?â you asked, eyes set on the little girl perched on her fatherâs arm.
âOh, just how much they appreciate Sohee,â he replied, bumping his daughter on his arm and turning to her. âThey said you were the best girl, right? The smartest, kindest and friendliest. Sheâs been pretty talkative at school,â he added at the end, giving you a meaningful glance.
You made a shocked expression. âIs that true?â you asked, and then giggled at the sound of your own voice.
Sohee was listening to the conversation while she chewed on the tip of her index finger. But she nodded intently.
âThey gave her a couple of presents,â Jeonghan said, gesturing to the gift bags on his arm. âSome of them were from her friends, two of them were from her teachers.â
You took one glance at the gift bags. âOh, shoot,â you muttered.
âWhat?â Jeonghan said, brow furrowing.
âI forgot the present I got for her back in my apartment,â you said dispiritedly. But you turned to Sohee, extending your hands at her. âHi, sweetheart!â
Sohee inclined her little body forward, just as you grabbed her by the torso and wrapped her around your hip. The movement was so natural that it went almost unnoticed, but it was Jeonghanâs gaze, the way he blinked, and his eyes lit up as he looked at his daughter, pointing at the wall behind you.
âThatâs okay, we can go get it tomorrow morning,â Jeonghan mumbled faintly, still looking at his daughter perched now on your hip.
âMn,â Sohee hummed softly, kicking her legs up in the air and pointing at the wall slightly harder.
âOh, right,â you turned on your feet, taking the baby girl to the living room area so she could see the wall decorations. âWe made this for you, kiddo,â you chirped, looking at her pretty face.
She pointed again.
âDâyou like it?â you whispered, heart warming up at the sight of her sweet brown eyes taking in the big daisy on the wall.
She nodded aloofly. And then kicked her legs, pointing them to the floor.
âAlrighty,â you mumbled, carefully setting her on the floor. You watched her run joyfully to her bedroom, perhaps to get something, a toy for her to show you.
But then you turned, catching Jeonghan still staring at you, hands deep in his pockets, head tilted to one side. But it was the tenderness in his eyes that made your heart flip in that same rhythm as beforeâthe one you had been so keen on avoiding, but was becoming unbearable.
âDo you like it?â you parroted, showing him the wall with your hands. You exhaled, trying to calm your nerves downâbut it was futile.
âI love it,â he replied with a warm tone coating his words. Then he approached you with a slow step, slipping a hand on your waist to pull you closer to his frame. He leaned his head forward, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. âI donât know what Iâd do without you.â
A vehement shudder crossed your entire body, and you let your eyelids fall closed as he planted another kiss on your forehead, this time longer. The words he said were ones you knew your heart was aching to hearâbut the noise inside your head didnât let you form a response.
The doorbell rang loudly, making you cringe visibly and turn to the door. âIâll get it,â you said, slipping out of his embrace.
âNo, Iâll get it,â Jeonghan said kindly.
âThen Iâll go get the birthday girl,â you said, forcing a smile that didnât feel too stiff on your faceâbut your heart was going a thousand miles per second.
Jeonghan caught something in your face, his eyes outlining your features before you turned around and hurried down the hall and to the toddlerâs bedroom.
Sohee was playing with the new dinosaurs that her father had gotten for her birthday. She already got them all lined up on the colorful bookshelf in one corner of the room. Your stomach twisted with cuteness overload when you heard the tiny noises she was making for a triceratops as she made it stomp across the shelf.
âHey kiddo,â you cooed, approaching her and crouching behind her. âYour friends are here. Do you want to come with me and greet them?â
She turned around and directed a steady look at your face. âYeap,â she nodded happily, taking another dinosaur in her fist and running out of the room, squealing like she knew she was the star of the day.
You rose, and with a big sigh, you followed the toddler down to the dining room. You greeted the guests, parents of Soheeâs friends from daycare. And before you knew it, the party had already started, and it was going smoothly.
You made light conversation as you got juice boxes for all the kids, who werenât many, but they felt like a massive multitude when they were swarming around you trying to get juice boxes and goodie bags.
âAlright, alright!â you laughed, holding up both hands. âEveryone will get one, I promise!â you said while handing a goodie bag to each kid.
You felt a hand on the small of your back. âThat includes me?â Jeonghan asked close to your ear before planting a kiss on your cheek.
You leaned into the kiss. âIf you behave, Iâll consider it,â you replied warmly.
âMmn,â he hummed, pressing another loving kiss. âYou know youâre all I want.âÂ
Your heart stammered, making you blink and find his eyes. Your tongue twisted, and you wished you had been quick enough to quip back something as enticingâbut it was already too late. The doorbell rang again, but this time, neither you nor Jeonghan had to go get it.
It was Soheeâs mother, Soomin. She had only rung the doorbell to announce her arrival, since she knew the combination to the smart lockâa thing you had thought only you and Jeonghan knew, but you were proven wrong.
The person who crossed the door was entirely not what you had imagined. In all the scenarios where you had pictured yourself meeting Jeonghanâs ex and the mother of his child, youâd never imagined that it would be like this.
Soomin was beautiful. She was tall and had a bright smile as she crossed the door. âWhereâs my girl?â she shouted from across the apartment, and your poor heart fell to your stomach when you saw Jeonghan smile widely.
âOh, thank god,â he mumbled beside you. He ran quickly to his daughter, snatching her from the floor and making her squeal with the abrupt movement. Sohee laughed, drawing the attention of the room as Jeonghan carried her to see her mother. âSohee baby, momâs here!â
âHi, peanut,â Soomin said in a high-pitched tone. âHappy birthday, sweetheart! Mommy is here,â she said, and then she leaned towards Sohee, who was sitting in Jeonghanâs arms.
But Sohee recoiled, turning her back to her mother. It was only natural, you thought, since the child barely recognized the face in front of her. But the scene before you hurt to watch either way. Jeonghan bounced the toddler in his arms, trying to drag her attention back to Soomin, who was getting something out of her leather handbag.
âLook what mommy got for you!â Soomin said, still speaking in that faux sweet tone. âLook!â
Sohee turned to see her mother getting a red gift bag, small enough that it fit inside the slick black leather bag. Sohee stared at it for a hard second before extending her hand and grabbing it, and then she proceeded to kick her legs to the floor.
âAlright,â Jeonghan said, putting the toddler back on the floor.
Sohee ran freely, and back to her little friends. Your gaze followed back to Jeonghan, who greeted Soomin with a very dry hey, but then approached to give her a quick hug, devoid of all kinds of affection. It was almost like neither of them knew how to treat each other anymore.
âWow, you really went out this time,â Soomin said, looking at the decorations, the birthday cake carefully set in the centre of the table, birthday plates piled up, and trays of fruit and candy already about to empty.
âOh, it was all her,â Jeonghan said, extending an arm towards you almost ceremoniously.
Your heart warmed up at the gesture, but your nerves had eaten you up already. You approached them with a stiff step until Jeonghan wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you up to his side, showing you off proudly.
âSo I can put a face to the name, finally,â Soomin said, showing you a dashing smile. She extended a hand towards you. âIâm Soomin, Soheeâs mother.â
You took her hand. âPleasure to meet you,â you said, smiling at her politely.
At that exact second, one of the little kids had pulled one of the candy trays from the table and thrown the candy all over the floor. âOhââ you uttered, motioning to go clean the candy from the floor.
âIâll get it,â Jeonghan said, giving you a quick but reassuring look. And then he said to you, âIâll be back, baby.â
And you knew he didnât want to leave you alone with his ex, but he also didnât want you to go and clean up the floor. So you stood there, anxiously watching as Jeonghan picked the candies and put them back on the tray one by one.
âCan I help with anything?â Soomin asked, more for decency than true intentions of helping.
âNope,â you said awkwardly. âEverythingâs set up.â
Soomin leaned her head to one side slightly before throwing one glance to the kids playing with Sohee. âYouâve done a lot already.â
âItâs not that big of a party,â you said, shrugging.
She smiled faintly, and you knew what she was looking at. âItâs big enough,â she said faintly.
You followed her gaze, finding Sohee playing with one of her little friends. They were both sharing a soundboard that someone at the party had gifted her.
âSheâs shy, isnât she?â Soomin said, her tone was devoid of snark, but then she added, âKind of like her father.â
Although the comment wasnât ill-natured, it hurt your heart to hear it. âShe just takes a minute,â you replied, wishing you hadnât sounded so harsh towards Soomin. But your heart was beating frantically, making you afraid that it was going to jump out of your chest.
And then you watched as Soominâs gaze went around the room again, stopping on the wall behind you. Her dark brown eyes went over the balloons forming a giant daisy, and the big birthday sign made by you.
âYouâre really good with her,â Soomin said after a moment. Her eyes found you. âJeonghan has told me about you.â
Your tummy clenched. âI care about her.â
âI can tell,â she replied, and then you caught an edge in her tone. And then added, softer, âNot everyone would step into something like this.â
You frowned. âLike what?â
Soomin raised her eyebrows, gesturing around the apartment, the toddlers. âWell, a life thatâs already in progress, you know what I mean?â
You told yourself that the words were neutral. Nothing was targeted towards you. But it still felt like it was.
You forced a smile. âI didnât see it that way.â
Soominâs expression didnât change; it was as though she were having a great time talking with you. âThatâs probably why youâve made it work. It was really brave of you to have stepped in. To do what I couldnât.â
Your stomach clenched again, and your mouth twitched like you were about to tell her something youâd regret.
âBaby! Where are the candles?â Jeonghan called from the kitchen.
You exhaled, glad. âExcuse me,â you said, and as you walked away, you felt Soominâs gaze on you, following you.
Your ears were ringing, anger still boiling inside you. Jeonghan was closing a drawer, his expression hardening at once as he took one look at you. âEverything okay there, beautiful?â he asked, glancing towards the living room.
You could still feel Soominâs eyes on you. You nodded. âYeah, everythingâs fine,â you said, trying to mask your anger. You would talk about it with him later.
His eyes outlined your expression. âSure?âÂ
âSure,â you said, opening the top cabinet and then handing him the pack with green and pink candles in it.
Jeonghan grabbed the candles, sighing. âLooks like the party is going well,â he said, giving you a hopeful smile and glimmering eyes.
Despite the rage still tightening your stomach, you smiled at him. âSoheeâs happy,â you said, casting a look at Sohee. âIâll go get her,â you told him, turning around and walking towards Sohee.
The toddler was happily focused on her toys and her little friends. Her eyes were wide and glimmering in excitement, and candy wrappers were spread all across the floor. Something caught your eyeâa red, unopened gift bag, forgotten in one corner of the living room.
âPrincess, come here,â you called softly, crouching behind her to see her at eye level. âDo you want cake?â
The question caught her attention immediately, making her turn around and face you. You stretched your hands to her, and she silently responded by stretching her little arms to you. You grabbed her, standing up to secure her at your hip, and she instantly wrapped her legs around you.
âOh, I got her. Let me.â
Soomin was already behind you, showing you her palms so you could transfer Sohee to her grip. A pang of jealousy sank deep inside your belly, making you want to hold Sohee closer to your body, almost like a protective defence mechanism.
You conceded, though begrudgingly. âOf course,â you replied, but there was no way you could hide the disappointment in your tone.
With a fretful pain lacing your heart, you handed Sohee over to her mother. The toddler kicked her legs anxiously and turned to look at you as though trying to understand she wasnât in your arms anymore. And with little control over yourself, you glanced in Jeonghanâs direction, almost as knowing heâd be looking. He had watched the whole exchange from afar, and he immediately recognized the dispirited look on your face, because all he did was offer you a solemn smile.
It made your blood boil. What else could he do? A tiny voice called inside your head. Youâre not Soheeâs mother. The voice said with painful regret.
It was the truth. No matter how bad it hurt, you werenât Soheeâs mother. And you were getting attached to herâattached to this life without having a true anchor to it.
And the thought ruined the rest of the night for you.
So you watched as Soomin sat on the table with Sohee sitting on her lap, the toddler forgot about the anxiety of being with a stranger as soon as Jeonghan stepped beside the chair and lit up the candles on the cake.
You debated whether to step closer or just watch from afar. The candles you had picked for Soheeâs cake were green and pink, and a single sparkling candle that, once Jeonghan got to light it up, stole the attention of the toddler. Her big, brown eyes glimmered in the dark against the sparkles that flew up to the ceiling, and instead of gasping or crying out as the other kids did, Sohee just stared at it, fascination spread across her face, parting her little lips.
Your stomach twisted in adoration. And you couldnât resist it. You pulled out your phone and hit the record button, determined to save this little moment foreverâeven if in real life it only lasted about fifty seconds.
Sohee was happy. She ate cake happily, shared her toys with her friends and seemed to be getting better at talking with others. And that was the only shining light in your night.
By the time that all the guests had left, the apartment didnât look as wrecked as you half expected it to be after hosting about fifteen people in it. The paper plates were stacked in a crooked tower, forks and spoons piled next to it on the kitchen counter, breadcrumbs spread all over the surface. There were plastic cups everywhere, toys, gift bags and confetti all over the living room floor.
The front door opened, and Jeonghan slipped inside the apartment, quietly closing the door behind him. The minute he stepped in, you decided to busy yourself by looking for a large trash bag that you had left somewhere in the kitchen.
âWell, thatâs everyone,â Jeonghan said, pleased that all of the guests had gone home. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing.
You started shoving trash into the bag as quickly as you could without making too much noise, and you were half glad that there was so much to do before you went home because you needed to think.
But Jeonghan had already noticed you were in a mood, and you could feel him hovering in the kitchen, trying to get a read on you. âThe party went really well. Everyone had a lot of fun,â he said, his tone gentle.
You were grabbing a bunch of plastic cups in one hand, throwing them inside the bag without caring that they were still half full. âYeah. Sure,â you huffed, continuing to clean the dining table.
The silence that followed was truly unsettling, making you weigh on the tone you had used and the manner in which you were moving. You were stepping out of control, and you didnât care where you were taking this conversation.
By the time you found the courage to raise your gaze, you found Jeonghan frowning at you. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
Air left your lungs like you were suddenly punched in the chest. âDid you have fun today?â you asked, raising your eyebrows. âBecause I didnât.â
Jeonghanâs frown didnât ease; he was confused. But his gaze softened, showing you worry. âWhat do you mean?â he asked, his tone dropping when he added, âDid something happen?â
You left the bag aside on the floor, dropping your arms at your sides in a defeated manner. âI mean, I spent the entire evening running around, trying to make sure everything worked,â you said, gesturing around you. âI made the food, drinks, decorations, and cleanup. I didnât have the chance to sit down once.â
Jeonghan blinked. âYou didnât have to do all that.â
You sighed. âThatâs easy to say now.â
He shifted his weight, motioning to approach you. âThatâs not what I meantââ
âI know,â you cut him off, putting a hand between him and you. âI know you meant it nicely.â
You could feel the waves of emotion coming closer, coming to get you. And your body acted off of instinct, picking up one stray napkin on the table and folding it in half, almost as though preparing yourself to have something in your hand for when you started crying.
With a tearless sob, you added. âIt wouldâve been nice if someone had noticed while it was happening.â
Jeonghanâs frown disappeared. âI noticed.â
âDid you?â you asked, still holding your emotions back.
âOf course I did,â he said, his tone dropping to an even gentler one.
But you could still feel the tears prickling in your eyes, everything you held back making you taste them in your tongue. âThen why was I still doing everything while everyone else was enjoying the party?â
Jeonghan tilted his head to one side, looking at you as though finding you endearing that you were about to cry for something like this, but still approached you with caution. âWhy didnât you ask for help?â he said, and then he hesitated, almost as though wanting to take back his words, so he added instead, âI was busy with things as well, I thought we were both busy, baby.â
You deadpanned to him. âYou really didnât think I wanted to enjoy the party too?â
He opened his mouth, his eyes widening as his mind started to reel, you knew it.
But you kept going. âI wanted to sit down with her when she opened her presents. Or be next to her when she blew out the candles. Honestly, Jeonghan, I felt like a guest at a party I helped throw. I couldnât even hold Sohee for two minutes!â
His face fell in utter worry, his shoulders going slack. âIs this all because Soomin wanted to hold her?â he asked, his tone hollow, like he now couldnât believe you were throwing a tantrum over this.
You let out an exasperated sigh. âNoâ! Yes! But itâs not only that!â you stammered.
Jeonghan stepped back, but just slightly, as though he wanted to take a good look at your faceâdisbelief still contorting his face. âSoomin was just trying to have a moment with her as well,â he shook his head. âI donât see that as a bad thing. Maybe youâre reading too much into it.â
âAm I?â you asked, raising your tone.
And Jeonghan sighed. âBaby⊠sheâs Soheeâs mother.â
It wasnât necessarily cruel. His tone was devoid of venom, but it still hurtâlike a bitter truth being forced down your bloodstream, burning and leaving an ache in its wake.
Your entire body shook before a powerful shudder. âRight,â you said slowly.
Jeonghan immediately realized the weight of his words, the pain translating in your features. âWaitââ he said, his jaw set tight as his eyes widened in worry. âBaby, I didnât mean it like that. I meantââ
You shook your head. âNo, I get it,â you said, but your voice had lost all power, and the wall you had put between reason and emotions crumbled. Tears burst in your eyes, and a sob broke through your chest.
âYouâre right. Iâm not her mom,â you continued, giving him a brittle smile. âI never forgot that. Not for a second,â you said, voice cracking slightly. âYou know, I keep reminding myself of that. Of where I stand.â
Jeonghan took another step towards you, this time more decisive. âBaby, youâre blowing this out of proportion,â he said, trying to be nice still, trying to figure out how to calm you down.
You looked down to wipe your tears. Confetti was spread all over the floor, and your stomach twisted at the thought of how this scene might appear from the outside. The apartment was a messâgift bags, wrapping paper, candy, and new toys scattered across the living room. A half-eaten cake sat on the table, and balloons were stuck to the walls. The lights in the kitchen and living room remained on. You and Jeonghan were arguing, trying to keep your voices down so as not to disturb the little girlâs sleep.
You finally found the strength to look at him again. And when Jeonghan saw your tired face, fear replaced the worry in his eyes. He saw the determination in your eyesâhe knew you well. âI think Iâm going to go.â
Jeonghan sighed, motioning a step closer. âItâs late. Stay,â he said, his tone still wrapped in a careful gentleness.
You shook your head. âI donât think thatâs a good idea, Jeonghan,â you said, your tone fading into a mere whisper. âIâm going home.â
He took a pause, studying you with his gaze roaming all over the features of your face, finding something in your eyes that made you wonder what you would look like. Because he seemed to lose all composure. âBaby, come on,â he said, his eyebrows drawn in. âWe just had a fight. That doesnât mean you need to leave.â
You sighed tiredly. âIt wasnât just a fight, Jeonghan,â you said calmly. All need to fight was gone now. You had lost. You shook your head. âIâm done.â
You turned around, heading towards the door. But you caught a glimpse of Jeonghanâs expression, the shock and worry making his eyes wide and glistening. âBaby.â
You grabbed your sweater and your handbag. The only two non-disposable belongings you had in his house.
âBaby,â he insisted again, more firmly now. âYouâre not seriously leaving because of something I said.â
You paused, but you didnât let the moment catch you in your determination. âItâs not just something you said. Itâs a fact.â
Jeonghan stiffened, but words got stuck in his mouth, making his throat bob visibly.
You wrapped your fingers around the doorknob. And then all self-control slipped out of your hands. âToday I learned two things. One is that I was changing my whole life to fit into yours,â you told him, pulse quickening when you realized what you were doing, what you were breaking. âAnd the other thing is that I was the only one doing that.â
Jeonghan took a weak step towards you, his eyes showing the realization of what was about to happen. âWe can still figure things out,â he whispered, eyes wide and glossy.
And something reminded you of how easy Soomin walked back into Jeonghan and Soheeâs life, how fleeting her presence was compared to the mess you had in your hands now. Your heart was breaking, and you couldnât fit in your head how easy it was for her to walk out and walk back in. You envied that for a split second, because now you had a broken heart to fix.
Jeonghan still thought the problem was logical. And not something you had been wanting him to truly see.
You took in a deep breath. âGoodbye, Jeonghan,â you whispered, slipping out through the door and shutting it quietly behind you.
Coming back home to your apartment felt hauntingly out of the ordinary. It was as though you were stepping into a scene that had been put on pause. There was a forgotten glass of juice half empty on the kitchen counter, and you couldnât remember leaving it there. The ironing board was standing in the middle of the living room, iron unplugged and in the holderâtwo things you had left there while in a hurry to get to your work in time. Plants all over the apartment were starting to wither, neglected.
A secondary instinct kicked in, telling you that at this hour youâd be helping Jeonghan tidy the place up while Sohee slept. Youâd be stacking toys back into their place, folding blankets while Jeonghan did the dishes.
You closed your eyes slowly, finally hurting when you realized that you had walked out on all of it.
And your apartment didnât feel like home.
You left your things on the counter and decided to plop down on the couch, face down against the cushions. Your pulse hadnât slowed down since the moment youâd said goodbye to Jeonghanâand when you collapsed on the couch, you realized that you were crying. And you werenât crying angry tears like when you were having a fight with Jeonghan, no.
You sobbed uncontrollably, tears kept coming and blurring your vision. And there was nothing in your mind except the memory of Jeonghanâs face when you walked out on him. You did the right thing, you told yourself, but your heart felt empty.
It had been the right thing. That much was true.
You loved Jeonghan. You loved Sohee.
Somewhere in the kitchen, you heard your phone buzzing, vibrating furiously inside your handbag. You ignored it. And you ignored it ten times all through the night, until it eventually ceased ringing.
Quiet settled around the empty apartment. An apartment that was yours, with all the things you built on your own. And the worst part is that it didnât feel like home anymore. You kept wanting to reach for your car keys and leave somewhere.
Did you overreact? You wondered. I probably did blow everything out of proportion. You thought, remembering Soominâs satisfied face when she told you that you were brave for stepping into her shoes.
Your chest tightened.
But you pushed it down.
The first twenty hours were hell.
Thatâs how Jeonghan felt. Like a long, gruelling torture that only pushed him to reflect.
The balloons on the wall had started to deflate, but he didnât want to take them down. The rest of the things that you had prepared for the party had already been cleaned up, one thing that Jeonghan had done the morning after you left. It helped him think instead of bombarding your voicemail with messages pleading with you to call him back.
I could just go to her apartment, he thought. But he imagined the sceneâSohee on his arms as he begged you to come back. And he instantly pushed the idea away.
The apartment was awfully quiet. Until his phone started to vibrate on the dining table, making his stomach drop, and his hand reached for it instantly, thinking it was you, finally calling him back.
Soomin.
Jeonghan sighed, his heart deflating.
But then, a knock came to the front door. And for a moment, he thought he imagined it.
Then it came again. You knocked two quick times, deciding to step back from it and wait, clasping the gift bag with your hands. Standing there, your gaze fell out of focus, and inevitably started comparing the times you had stood there, how quickly Jeonghan would get to the door and welcome you in with open arms.
When Jeonghan finally opened the door, it was the first time you had seen him truly torn. It was normal for you to see him untidy after a long day at work, hair messy, unmade tie, untucked shirt, whatever. But no, this time was different. His face was darkened by the dark circles under his eyes, but it was the deep, conflicted sparkle in them that disheartened you completely.
âHi,â you croaked, and cleared your throat nervously.
Jeonghan let out a quick sigh, running a palm down his mouth and chin before stepping aside, letting you in.
Your stomach twisted. You didnât know what you were expecting him to say, but silence was the last thing you had anticipated. But you stepped into the apartment anyway, immediately spotting the quietness, which could only indicate one thing.
âWhere is she?â you muttered, turning around to see Jeonghan shutting the door behind him quietly.
âAsleep,â he told you quietly, leaning back against the door with his hands tucked behind his back. You noticed the tired look he gave you, but that wasnât the only thing that consumed your attention whollyâhe was wary. âI just put her to bed.â
Your heart squeezed one more time, and you gave him a reproachful look. âOh, okay,â you sighed, looking at the green gift bag in your hands. âThen Iâll leave this with you. Sheâll like it, Iâm sure. Itâs aâitâs an axolotl plushie,â you said, stammering over your words with the need to hurry and get this over with. You wanted to run back to your car and cry.
Jeonghan nodded, licking his lips in a way that told you he had a lot to say, but decided to remain quiet. See how things would unfold first.
But this wasnât going according to your plans. Your eyes began to brim with tears, which you blinked away quite successfully. âI wanted to see her one last time. Say goodbye properly,â you told him, tone lowering as your throat closed up.
He leaned the back of his head against the door, and as he blinked slowly, you saw his walls crumble down. âI know,â he said, his tone lowered too. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing visibly.
You saw him blink up, fixing his gaze on the ceiling. âIs that why you put her to bed earlier than usual?â you asked keenly. âSo I wouldnât get to see her?â
Jeonghan nodded slowly, moving his arms and crossing them on his chest. âI didnât want her to see this. Iâm sorry,â he shrugged with a look of pity on his face. âBut I think we should talk first.â
You felt your brow furrowing. âI thought we already talked, Jeonghan. Last night,â you said, feeling lost.
âYeah, but last night you walked out on me,â he said, tilting his head to one side as his gaze changed, quickly being filled with disappointment and resentment. He pushed himself away from the door, approaching you with the same wariness.
âThere was nothing left to say,â you muttered, trying to keep down the tight knot sitting in your throat.
âReally?â he gasped, stopping dead in his tracks just one step in front of you. His face had fallen in something that went far beyond resentment now, like uncontrolled exasperation and anger. âWe couldâve solved things last night before you ended everything!â
Shame filled your bloodstream, coursing through your body and leaving your skin feeling hot and prickling with anger. You carefully set down the gift bag on the table, deciding to leave. âI wonât let anyone treat me like Iâm second-best, Jeonghan. Thatâs why I walked out.â
It was as though you had slapped him in the face. He stepped back, blinking in a way that told you that your words had hurt him. But before you could have a confirmation on this, Jeonghan took another step, but now in your direction. âI didnât treat you like second-best,â he replied, his face crumpling with hurt, and most shockingâyou saw fear in his eyes.
âNo? I was trying to make everything perfect for Sohee. And by the end of it, what did I get? Your ex walking all over me like Iâm her stand-in!â you blurted, words coming out raw and shaky. But you were glad that, despite the overwhelming need to cry, you could still speak what troubled your heart.
Jeonghan looked at you like he was finally seeing the truth. Almost as though he had willingly blindfolded himself throughout the party last night, but now, he finally saw something he didnât want to.
So, with heat flooding your chest, you continued, âYou truly didnât notice, Jeonghan? The tacit remarks sheâd make? Or when I wanted to hold Sohee and she would casually step in? Or what about the moment she told me I was brave for doing what she couldnât?â you said. Your throat tightened, anger burning as tears finally spilled. You wiped them angrily, refusing to look away.
âShe said that?â he said with an empty look in his eyes as his shoulders sagged a little. âI didnât hear her. I actually thought she was being nice. For once.â
âMaybe you didnât want to see it because she was being nice to you,â you accused, crossing your arms to hold yourself steady. Or to protect yourself. âThatâs myproblem. She doesnât have to fight for a space!â
âThatâs not fair. You donât have to fight for a spaceââ
âNo, but I do,â you interrupted, blood heating up after remembering how it felt. âAnd whatâs not fair was pretending she was being nice. She knew exactly what she was doing, and whether you meant it or not, you let her.â
âI shouldâve known she would do things when I wasnât looking,â Jeonghan replied, his tone firm. But then his gaze softened, right as he too crossed his arms, making you think that he was guarding himself up as well.
You let out a resigned sigh. âBut this isnât truly about your ex, Jeonghan,â you finally said, gulping hard. âThis is about us failing to do things right.â
And when he lifted his gaze back to you, you noticed a glint in his eyes, like sorrow taking over him. He wasnât crying, but your heart slowed down at seeing that torn-up look on him. Your words had struck a nerve. âThis isnât on meâI tried making things right!â he said, not lifting his tone, his words devoid of heat.
âYou were rushing into things! Asking me to move in? Putting me as the emergency contact on Soheeâs file without telling me?â you said, trying to keep your tone light, but instead you sounded like you were on the brink of tears again.
He still looked hurt, but now, he was beginning to detach himself from youâand you could tell. He shook his head like he couldnât believe you, running a hand down his mouth, frustratedly. âI thought that you moving in with us would make us stronger. But now I know we werenât on the same page with that.â
You understood why he delivered his words dryly, but it still made your aching heart deflate even more. Tears burst from your eyes again, and you hated that you were now out of control. âI just wanted to know that you werenât just looking for someone to share the burden with.â
He let out a huff, a cold smile painting his face. âI donât need someone to share the burden with; I have been doing fine on my own since Soomin left.â
You rolled your eyesâhe was missing the point. âI wanted to be certain that you wanted me.â
That left him cold. His arms were still crossed on his chest, but you saw the smallest of budges, as though the very air had left his lungs, cracking that wall he was putting between you. âIs that it? Is that why you said no?â he asked, his tone softer. He motioned to approach you, but the look on your face stopped him.
You were fully crying now. No sobbing, no hiccupping, no runny nose. Just unstoppable tears streaking down your cheeks. Your lip trembled, just as you were looking for the words to tell him what you needed to hear from him.
His mind reeledâyou could tell from the way his gaze shifted quickly, dropping from your face to the ground and then back to you. His brow twitched. âI thought you knew.â
You nodded. âI still needed to hear it, Jeonghan.â
His gaze fell to the space between you, as though trying to untangle this mess in his mind.
But it didnât matter now. Nothing he could say now would ease the pain in your chest. You were done now. You wanted to go home.
You didnât say goodbye this time. You didnât want to drag it any further.
You walked past him, rushing to the door before he could stop youâor to be quick and have the confirmation that he wouldnât try to stop you. And when you were safe in the elevator, your heart broke anew when you blinked and saw the image of Jeonghan standing in the dining room, a grief-stricken look on his face.
Oh, this would take you months to heal.
Your friends were right. Getting into a relationship with someone like Jeonghan would only bring you pain. Nothing else.
The walk from the elevator to where you had parked your car was excruciatingly long. Your chest was constricting more and more as you fished your key out of the pocket of your jeans, unlocking the car door from afar.
âWait!â
Jeonghanâs raw voice crossed the parking lot like lightning shooting through the night sky. You stopped, not because you wanted to follow the request, but because of the sheer shock of knowing that heâd chased you down to the parking lot.
Jeonghan was catching up, running to where you stood, frozen to the ground. âWait,â he pleaded, breathing hard as he reached you. âDonât go⊠please.â
Had he run down the emergency stairs just to catch you before you got in your car? Had he left Sohee alone just to get to you? You stared at him, beyond disbelief.
He composed himself with one deep breath, raising his palms at you warily. âI know I donât deserve this, but please hear me out.â
When you didnât respond, a wild look of fear shot across his face, making his eyes widen slightly. âI didnât ask you to move in with us because I wanted someone to share the burden of being a parent,â he said, his words honest despite the tremble in his tone. âI said those things because Sohee is my priority. I was dumb, and that was the first thing that popped into my mind. I wasnât thinking of how I sounded.â
He gulped air, hard. âI asked you to move in with us because I feel empty when youâre not around,â he said, more fiercely, his eyes glimmering as he took another step towards you. âI asked you to move in with me because of the most selfish reasonâbecause I donât want to be without you.â
And then the look in his eyes turned to complete despair when you remained motionless. His confession had done nothing to you, or so he appeared to believe. But your heart was beating wildly, thumping in your eardrums. You stood there, torn between holding your ground and giving in to him.
His mouth parted, and he took half a pace to where you stood. But he stopped, as though all strength and courage had dissipated the moment your eyes began to brim with tears again. âPlease,â he whispered, gulping hard once again. And you knew what he was feelingâhis heart thrumming in his throat. âDonât do this.â
He wasnât scared of losing a perfect candidate for his exâs stand-in. Noâand you were a fool to have believed that. You had seen the terrible person his ex was and still decided to run with that idea.
What you had failed to remember was that Jeonghan had gone through difficult breakups before. His ex left him with a baby in his arms. And even if his relationship with Soomin had been loveless from the start, it was still hard, and it still hurt.
God knows how long it had been since Jeonghan felt love.
And the truth is, you trusted that not even he remembers it as well.
Jeonghan was exceptionally bad at sharing his feelings aloud. That is one thing youâve learned in all eight months youâve been with him. But then you saw his posture change, the strength in him waning. âI wonât let things go this way again,â he told you, his eyes pleading.
A brutal shudder coursed through you. You loved this man. There was no way you could just turn around and walk away.
Your lip trembled. âYou promise?â
It was as though life had been injected into him, hope glimmering in his eyes now. âI promise,â he replied.
With just a couple of paces, you closed the space between you and him, grabbing him by the collar of his black t-shirt and pulling him in. And he simply let you, receiving the impact of your smaller body against his by grabbing you by the waist, already knowing you were aiming for a kiss.
Your lips clashed with his in a crushing kiss; it almost hurt, but you didnât care. Your body brimmed with energy, making your fingers curl around the fabric of his t-shirt. It was a leap of faithâbut this time, you were ready. âI love you,â you said, squeezing your eyelids tightly.
A small sigh escaped him. âI love you too,â he replied, switching his hands from your waist to your face, cupping it before going back to kissing you. âPlease, stay,â he whispered before pressing his lips against yours tightly.
You melted in his embrace. âOkay,â you replied, nodding.
He wrapped you with his arms completely, placing one hand on your back and the other on your head, making your face nuzzle against the crook of his neck. âYou scared me,â he whispered, the sound of his voice strangled.
You swallowed hard. âYou scared me too,â you admitted.
He kissed the top of your head, moving to cup your face again. âI know this doesnât solve everything,â he said, his tone brittle. Thatâs when you noticed his eyelashes crumpled with tears. âSo I think we should talk about what comes next.â
You shifted slightly to get the tears on the corners of your eyes. âWhat do you mean?â
He seemed to calm down with one breath. âSoomin is still going to be part of our lives.â
You nodded. âI know.â
His eyebrows knitted slightly. âAnd sometimes our lives will get messy.â
âI know that, Jeonghan,â you whispered, smiling at him softly.
He caressed your cheek tenderly. âBut I want you to talk to me every time something feels off,â he said.
âAnd will you?â you asked.
He nodded. âEvery single time,â he said. âI want us to be stronger together.â
The certainty in his demeanour made you pause. âYou mean that?â you asked with a tiny tone.
âYes, I do,â he replied. âI shouldâve told you this before. I donât want to be without you.â
And now the honesty was the thing that disarmed you completely. For a second, you almost felt like your vulnerable side was about to win, but you sighed. âI was jealous of her,â you confessed.
He blinked in disbelief. âOf Soomin?â
You nodded. âSheâs Soheeâs mom. I didnât like to feel that I was competing with her.â
âYou werenât,â he said with certainty. âThings got messy yesterday. I didnât notice she was trying to make you feel insecure.â
You shook your head lightly. âThis whole thing feels ridiculous now.â
He frowned. âWhat does?â
âAll of this,â you gestured to the space between you and him. âWe nearly blew up our entire relationship because we couldnât talk about what we actually feel.â
He let out a light laugh. âIt wonât happen again,â he said, stepping back and grabbing your hand, motioning back to the building. âLetâs go back inside?â
You nodded, walking with him, feeling ten times lighter than before.
You both stepped into the elevator, still holding hands. But as soon as the doors closed, Jeonghan tugged at your hand, pulling you closer to his frame. He wrapped an arm around your waist, finding your cheek with the other hand. âWill you forgive me?â he mumbled softly, smiling at you like he was shy. âI let things go out of hand.â
Your heart softened again, making you choke up, so you just nodded. âMe too,â you whispered. âI apologize too.â
He blinked slowly. âWe talked about this before, remember?â he told you. âMy life is messy, and I havenât had a relationship since Soomin. I think this is us trying to find the balance in everything.â
You smiled at him. âPlease donât tell me that finding the balance will look like this every time.â
He laughed lightly. âI told you, baby. I wonât let this happen again,â he said, full of certainty. âI mean it.â
You sighed softly, relief finally setting in. âOkay,â you whispered, closing your eyes as he leaned in to kiss you, pressing his lips against yours ever so tenderly, like he was trying to isolate every single feeling and just focus on how your lips felt against his.
The kiss deepened, lips locking together in a heated dance that had your blood dancing in your veins almost instantly. A moan bubbled in your mouth when you felt the tip of his tongue swiping on your bottom lip, touching your tongue as it rolled inside your mouth.
You placed a hand square on his chest. âDonât think youâre off the hook,â you said, faking a stern look on your face.
The elevator reached the floor, doors parting with a soft ding. Jeonghan took your hand again, as though not wanting to let you go for one second. âI didnât think it would be that easy,â he said with a smirk. âBut please tell me what I can do to get there faster.â
You laughed. âWell, first, you could give me a neck massage.â
He raised his eyebrows. âThatâs starting strong?â he laughed.
âAnd take me for dinner at that restaurant you keep telling me you wanted to take me,â you said.
âYou free tomorrow?â he said while opening the door for you.
He quickly pushed your back against the wall of the hall to his bedroom, locking his lips with yours in a quick, but passionate kiss. âI could pick you up at eight,â he said, his tone raw.
âI dunno. Iâll have to check my calendar,â you replied jokingly, putting your hands on his chest, feeling him up.
Jeonghan giggled into the kiss. âYou do that,â he replied.
You smiled, letting him dominate the kiss. And Jeonghan quickly took on the task, kissing you vehemently, like putting every emotion he felt for you into a silent dance of his lips with yours. His hands slipped from your face, finding your waist to clutch on as his tongue rolled inside your mouth.
You moaned, feeling his tongue against yours sent a shiver down your spine. Your hands on his torso slipped further down, finding the hem of his clothes and slipping beneath his shirt, feeling his warm skin.
The muscle of his abdomen contracted softly. âWaitââ Jeonghan said, pausing mid-kiss with a smacking sound from his lips and yours. âBathroom.â
You were only able to moan out a sound of affirmation. The door to the bathroom was a couple of steps away from you, and when you both got there, it was as though a lightbulb had been switched on in your mind. Jeonghan was intending to take you to the most secluded place in the houseâfar away from the babyâs room.
Jeonghan turned the lights on with one hand, undoing the button of his jeans with the other. You acted quicklyâtaking one step in his direction and grabbing the black t-shirt, enjoying the look in his eyes, the hunger, the lust and devotion in them.
The clothes came off quietlyâhurriedly, while his gaze remained trained on your face. Jeonghan was quiet, unusually quiet as you worked your trembling fingers to undress him. âDo you want to undress me?â you mumbled, your tone sweet, but low.
He blinked slowly and nodded, biting his bottom lip. He first grabbed the hem of your tank top, hiking it up your torso while you raised your arms to help him in the process. His gaze shifted to your chest when your bralette came into view. âI like this,â he whispered, running the pad of his thumb along the pretty lace hem of the cup of the bralette. âYou know I like this one.â
You smiled softly. âIf youâre suggesting that I wore the bra you liked to break up with you in case something happened, then youâre sorely mistaken,â you replied smugly.
He matched your smile. âIâm glad,â he whispered, tilting his head to meet your lips with his. He kissed you once, softly at first, his lips creating a low smacking sound when he pulled back, but not far. âIâm glad you didnât break up with me.â
âI guess all we needed was to talk it out,â you joked in between hurried, heated pecks. Then your breath hitched, Jeonghanâs cold fingers had found the clasp of your bralette.
Jeonghan sighed in amusement. âWho wouldâve thought,â he replied with an obvious tone while his hands gently eased the straps off your shoulders, and took your bra off your chest.
You needed one second to take in the situation inâyou had just gone through one of the worst moments of your life, thinking that you were breaking up with the man you had fallen head over heels for. And now to be back in his apartment, hiding in the bathroom with him so that whatever went down in there wouldnât wake the baby up.
It felt strangely exciting.
He pushed the tip of his nose against yours softly, making you angle your face as he swiped the tip of his tongue on your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You parted your mouth, letting him in with a silent moan, right as his tongue found yours. He kissed you slowly, sensually, like he had been aching to do that for the longest time, but things just got in the way.
You understood then, all the intense gazes, the way he kept looking at your lipsâŠ
âFrom now on, Iâll tell you everything,â he told you suddenly, giving you small kisses as his hands came up to cup your face lovingly. âEvery single thought that crosses my brain, youâll know it.â
You laughed at that, the sound louder than anything else; it bounced off the walls in a denouncing manner.
âQuiet, baby,â Jeonghan uttered, but he let out a tiny giggle with you anyway. âSohee might hear you.â
You couldnât help it; your heart melted. âSorry,â you whispered, but the smile didnât wipe off your face.
He tilted his head to one side, smiling endearingly at you. âI have a feeling you like this,â he muttered, voice low like a purr.
You nodded, biting your lower lip as you pushed his boxers down.
âYou like it when I tell you to be quiet,â he kept going, keeping his tone down.
His gaze dropped to your hands as you grabbed his cock and started stroking him with your hand wrapped around the underside of his shaft. He had a pretty cock, soft and veiny on his thick shaft, dark pink on its head.
Seeing your hand rolling up and down his erect cock made him swallow a grunt, but as you twisted your grip around him, the sounds he made grew louder. How easy it was for him to surrender under your touch caused a deep satisfaction to bloom in your chest. But more than that, arousal had already started to pulsate between your legs. You enjoyed giving him pleasure just as much as you enjoyed receiving it.
âI like everything you do, daddy,â you mumbled, your tone wrapped in honey.
âFuck,â he sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. He slipped his hands on your waist, clutching your skin tightly but not enough for it to burn. âYou make me crazy.âÂ
Your fist tightened around the crown of his cock, smearing the slick precum leaking from his slit. You loved pleasuring him, yes, but you needed him inside youâthe thrumming between your legs ached to feel him. A cunning smile painted your lips, considering playing with him some more.
But Jeonghan caught that naughty smirk on your face.
In one motion, he pushed your back to the countertop of the sink. You gasped at the sudden movement, but before you could protest, he was already getting to one knee in front of you.
âIf you make a single sound, Iâll stop,â he told you, his eyes darkened with need and lust.
And without waiting for your verbal response, his head dipped down, pressing his mouth to your mound. He kissed the top of your pussy first, pressing his lips to your skin tenderly, almost adoringly as his sweet brown eyes found yours, but briefly. You let out a ragged breath, parting your legs by half, sitting on the countertop. That gave him all the access to your slick folds, which he nipped and licked eagerly.
You instantly tensed, your hand finding his head and the other holding onto the basin like your life depended on it. Jeonghan knew you well; he knew how you liked being touched, how to eat your pussy out until you were a mess of tears and babbles. He knew how to make you cum. What he was doing now was just to tease you, to drive you crazyâlicking the juices off your folds with pleased grunts from his part, loving the way you were always ready for him.
He grabbed your thighs, spreading you further apart so you stopped twitching and movingâand licked your pussy up and down slowly, thoroughly, only to tease you some more.
But then he finally wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking it ever so lightly.
Your jaw went slack, and to not let a scream out, the hand that was previously clutching the basin flew and landed on the tap, accidentally pushing it open. The sound of water flowing freely was the perfect mask for your whiny moans, because Jeonghan had started to run his tongue flatly on top of your engorged clit, all the while his lips kept it trapped.
Thoughts ceased to exist. Nothing mattered to you except for the sweet waves of pleasure running uncontrollably through your veins, making your skin prickle and your nipples pebble. It was as though you were submerged in a pool of pleasure. Your breathing turned ragged, and your body tensed solely to let the orgasm build upâbecause Jeonghan wasnât stopping, and apparently, he had forgotten about the no noise rule.
Or maybe he liked this too.
But then he lifted his face slightly, keeping his lips and tongue on the top of your pussy as his lust-filled gaze met yours. You sank your teeth on your bottom lip, using the hand that was cradling the back of his head to push his face against your cunt, begging him silently to continue.
Jeonghan eyed the basin swiftly, briefly. And that was all the command you needed. You pushed your thumb against the tap, shutting it off.
However, he continued being a tease. Or a menace. He dragged his tongue against your swollen clit, pushing the wet muscle against you, achingly slow.
Your eyebrows pinched. Please, you begged with just one look.
There was a smile that only showed in his eyes right before he resumed eating you out, sucking and licking your clit. And he only needed to do it for mere thirty seconds before your orgasm tore through your body. You forgot about pulling his hair, taking that hand against your own mouth to stop yourself from screaming.
The waves of pleasure running through you were beyond anything else youâve felt before. Heâd teased you for so long that you were very much ready for that orgasm, leaving you limp and trembling on the countertop.
Your chest was rising and falling dramatically. Embarrassed, you cast a look at Jeonghan, who was pushing himself onto his feet with a light but wicked grin on his face. He didnât need to say anything, he knew that youâd liked that.
And you needed him now.
You grabbed his wrist, pulling so that he stood between your thighs. âWait,â he whispered, sliding his hands on your thighs to bring you to a halt.
You instantly knew what heâd say. You shook your head. âI want you now,â you mumbled.
But he motioned a hand to the cabinet behind you, where you knew he kept one large box of condoms. He kept it there and would also restock the bedside table every night you stayed in.
You grabbed him by the hip, pulling him closer to your body. âNow,â you whined.Â
Jeonghan didnât resist, didnât question you.
His hands returned to your thighs, wrenching them further apart and positioning himself between them. Tilting your hips up, you angled yourself for him while still sitting back on the countertopâyou knew he liked the view of his bare cock entering you, the view of your pussy stretched open with his girth.
So his head dipped, keeping his gaze where your body and his were about to join. He pushed his hips closer to yours, and you took his cock, guiding it to your sopping core. His mouth parted when the crown of his cock nuzzled your entrance, and a rush of excitement flowed through you when you felt him push inside.
Feeling him raw, skin on skin, was a delicious experience. Maybe it was more in your brain than in your bodyâbecause you swore you could cum right there and then, and he wasnât even fully inside you.
You caught a glimpse of his face changing, of the pleasure taking over him quickly as he gave the first thrust, the muscle of his jaw twitched, and he immediately crushed his mouth with yours. With a muffled moan, he started moving, languidly at first, as though testing you.
âGod, baby, you feel⊠amazing,â he whispered, pushing his hips with gentle motions. You believed that he wanted to take it slowly, so he wouldnât finish fast and inside you. But then you heard how fucking wet you were. You could hear his cock slipping in and out of your walls, and Jeonghan wanted to enjoy it.
You cupped the side of his neck with one hand, motioning his gaze back to yours. You stared into his eyes for a long moment while he took your body slowly. Jeonghan blinked, his hands grabbing your thighs and motioning them around his hips, making it even harder for him to pull out.
It was a game you both had. And it made you feral. You loved it.
Jeonghan pushed his body flushed against yours, thrusting slowly, but deeply. âLike that?â he asked, although he didnât need toâthe look on your face told him enough.
But you nodded either way. You remembered what he said about telling you every single thought that crossed his brain, and you decided to give him some of your thoughts in return. âI love this,â you whispered. âI love feeling you like this.â
He let out a grunt, bowing his head to kiss your shoulder. âI know,â he sighed, his breath fanning your pert nipples. âI love it too.â
You slipped your hand from his neck and then locked your arms around his shoulders. All reason flew out of your brain, and then you knew you were just babblingâbut you didnât care. âThe thought of you cumming inside me makes me cum,â you mumbled, uncaring of how pathetically sweet your tone sounded.
âOh, fuck,â Jeonghan moaned loudly, the sound barely muffled by the crook of your neck, hips stuttering against yours for half a second.
You cupped his nape with your hand as he lifted his head to face you. âYeah?â he hummed, his gaze taking you in. âWant me to pump you full of my cum?â he asked with a playful lilt.
You nodded, incapable of giving him a verbal reply. The question was crude; it sounded beyond dirty and sinful as it came out of his lips. This surely wasnât the first time he spoke filthy things to you, but it was the first time he asked a question like this.
And you loved it.
The pacing of his thrusts quickened, but didnât relent on their depth, keeping his body flush against yours. You could feel the film layer of sweat covering his skin, and for a moment, you couldnât tell if you were sweating as well.
But you noticed that Jeonghan was forgetting about your game of keeping quiet. The pacing of his thrusts quickening also meant that the sounds of skin slapping against skin were harder to avoid. You thought of mentioning this to him, but it turned you on to see him lose control slowly.
âBabe,â you whispered, âbe quiet.â
Jeonghan had to bite his smile back. And fuck, you loved this man. One of the things you loved about him was how sexy he could be. He pushed his hips against yours in a particularly thorough way that made you think he was trying to reach as deep into you as he could, making you whimper loudly.
âYou be quiet,â he bit back, continuing to slip his cock in and out of your walls deliciously, making you see stars.
Your eyelids fell closed, but you could capture the image of him leaning his face closer to yours, feeling his breath on your lips before he kissed them. âQuiet or you wonât get to cum,â he said, his tone raspy, tired.
âDoesnât that mean you wonât either?â you taunted, loving the way the pacing of his thrusts changed. You knew he was trying to draw out his own pleasure, make himself last longer.
Jeonghan laughed, the sound languid. âRemember how I got you to shut up that one time?â he asked, his tone still low, waning. And when the memory instantly flashed behind your closed lids, your walls tightened around him, drawing out a moan from him.
That time, he showed you a different side of himself. You were being louder than most nights, having fun by testing how far Jeonghan would go to make you submit to him.
âYeah, you remember it,â he drawled, moving his face ever so slightly so he could join his lips with yours, all while still moving inside you painfully slow. He was edging you, and in turn, he was edging himself as well. âI thought you looked pretty with my cock inside your mouth,â he said.
You couldâve fallen over the edge in that second. A shameful whine came out of you, but you were too gone to even think of how pathetic you were sounding. You didnât care. Having Jeonghan inside you, raw, and speaking filth to you felt so good. âIâll be quiet, Hannie,â you told him. âJust donât stop.â
With a grunt, Jeonghan obliged, changing the push and pull from a painfully slow one to a deliciously hard and deep one. You let out a silent moan, angling your hips to him so he could reach deeper inside you, so you could feel him completely.
Jeonghan cussed, his voice drowned out by the dull sound of skin hitting against skin. And it was then that you knew that this was his obsessionâthe quiet play, the bickering, the very obvious sounds of pleasureâŠ
And you simply let him take you. The closer he grew to his orgasm, the closer you felt like giving in to the sweet pleasure dancing beneath your skin. Jeonghan parted his mouth, and you felt his hips buckling, his hands gripping your hips, his body flush and pushing against yoursâŠ
âFuck, baby,â he said with a tired, but blissful drawl. âIâm close,â he said, his words heavy with meaning. Â
And you knew what he wanted to say. âInside,â you moaned. âDo it inside me.â
Jeonghan gave you another one of those hazy smiles, tilting his head back so you could see his face, while pleasure took over the features of his beautiful face. âAre you going to cum for me, sweetheart?â he asked, looking like he was in between happy and tired.
You nodded. âUh-huh,â you mewled, aware that the sounds bouncing off the walls of the bathroom had become louder. But you didnât care, and Jeonghan didnât seem to pay attention.
He pushed inside, slamming his front to yours, switching the grip on one side of your thigh to your hair at the base of your head. âThen give it to me,â he whispered, the sound raspy and full of greed. âCum for me.â
You couldâve gone off simply from the way he was talking to you. But you needed to get it done, fast, now. You moved your body slightly, taking your hand in between his body and yours and started rubbing your clit, teasing it with fast swirls. âDaddy,â you moaned, louder. His thrusts were deep, hard, and so fucking good. âFuck, fuck, fuck.â
Jeonghan responded with a deep moan of his own. âBaby,â he gasped, releasing the grip he had on your hair, his hand sliding down your back as he dropped his forehead on your shoulder.
You closed your eyes, letting your orgasm barrel down your body, letting Jeonghan push his cum deep inside you with a couple of final, languid thrusts. His face was pressed tightly against the crook of your neck, making your skin prickle as he breathed hard against you.
The inner side of your thighs trembled quite dramatically as you tried holding onto him. Jeonghan let out a light, breathy giggle, right as you, too, were composing yourself, caressing his naked back with the tips of your fingers.
Then you felt his lips on the crook of your neck, your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. âIâll start a shower for you,â he croaked, lifting his head to direct a tender look at you. âI have to go check on Sohee.â
You nodded. âOkay,â you replied.
But there was a great reluctance in his following movements. Casting a look down your body, he carefully peeled his body back from yours, turning around to start the shower. You watched him as he walked back, only to plant a sweet kiss on the tip of your nose before grabbing his shorts and slipping through the bathroom door.
Once you found your limbs, you climbed off the counter and stepping before the shower. After testing the temperature, you stood below the stream, closing your eyes as you let the water wash down your face.
Your heart still felt heavy with the weight of a thousand questions and things that you still wanted to say. But one thing was finally clear to you.
The gentle sounds coming from the door announced he was back, right as you were halfway done washing up. When he stepped into the shower, he immediately wrapped his arms around you, his chest pressing against your back as he embraced you tightly. âHey,â you mumbled, grabbing his forearm to squeeze him.
He inhaled deeply, pressing his lips to your hair. âHey,â he replied, his tone low and raspy.
You turned around, moving on the shower floor so that the stream bathed his bare skin. âLet me,â you said, grabbing the soap and washcloth.Â
Jeonghan gave you a sheepish smile. âOh, are you going to wash me?â he asked, his tone turning playful as you nodded at him silently, looking into his eyes. âAlright, just donât give me those eyes, or weâll never get this done.â
You laughed, the sound filling the bathroom. His glimmering eyes found your face, and you could see the minute his mind snapped with decision. Cupping your face in his hands, he pulled you in for a kiss full of passion and endearment. âI love you,â he mumbled, his tone so gentle that it made you think he was relieved to say it.
âI love you,â you replied, laughing softly before he pressed his lips against yours again.
âWhatâs that?â he asked in between pecks.
âNothing,â you huffed as he moved to kiss your cheek. âYouâre very confident now.â
He responded with a light laugh of his own. âI donât care. Iâm going to say it more,â he told you, sounding serious like a warning.
âGood,â you mumbled faintly, as he bent down to kiss your neck.
âStarting now,â he said, slipping his hands from your lower back to your rear, pressing you against his frame.
âCareful,â you replied. âYou might start sounding desperate,â you teased.
You felt him smile against your skin. âDesperate, huh?â he asked, his voice low and in your ear.
âWell,â you said, tilting your head to give him more space for him to kiss, âyou did just almost lose me.â
He nodded. âThat put things in perspective.â
A sigh escaped your mouth when he kissed a particular sweet spot on your shoulder. âYouâre going a bit overboard.â
âMmm,â he sighed against your skin. hands squeezing your ass, but just softly, tenderly. âI love you.â
You bit back a smile. âSee?â
âYouâre the one who wanted me to say it.â
âI didnât say you had to start saying it every minute,â you said, smiling despite yourself.
He pulled back, making you miss his lips on your skin instantly. âI can slow down.â
You bit your lower lip, nodding. âPlease.â
But he showed you a charming half smile. âI love you.â
You laughed, trying to push his shoulder. âYouâre a tease.â
A pause. The smirk wiped off his face as he exhaled softly. âAnd yet,â he said, his eyes glimmering with something you hadnât seen before in him, âyouâre still here.â
You watched his eyes for a moment, your pulse quickening. âThatâs still under review,â you tried to joke, sounding out of breath.
If Jeonghan heard your tone, he made no comment about it; he played along. âWhat can I do to help my case?â
âI already told you,â you said, looking at his eyes and then his lips.
He nodded, leaning to kiss the tip of your nose. âWhat else?â he whispered.
You slipped your hands from his shoulders, down his torso, feeling his warm and wet skin. âLetâs go to that water park⊠all three of us together.â
He smiled before pressing his lips against yours. âYou got it,â he replied.
Your heart shuddered. âJeonghan?â you mumbled softly, feeling his hands all over your skin, exploring you, getting you aroused again.
âYes?â
âAsk me to move in with you,â you said, tone falling to a mere whisper.
He pulled back, only to look into your eyes. He didnât hesitate. âMove in with me.â
Your eyes glimmered, your whole body trembling with joy, relief, and love. You nodded. âIâll move in with you.â
Jeonghan smiled. âGood,â he mumbled, content. âI love you.â
You groaned softly, rolling your eyes playfully. âOh my god,â you said, loving the sound of his laughter bouncing off the walls. He leaned over, showering you with kisses again. âI love you more,â you replied shyly.
âImpossible,â he said.Â
âș author's note pt. 2: hi hey hello!!
so, we're are so back. and jeonghan is coming back? hannieween is writing again? hell yeah
OKAY BUT I WANT TO TAKE A MOMENT TO ADDRESS SOMETHING HERE. apparently, tumblr has moved some things so that if someone comments, likes or reblogs a post that has been previously reblogged by someone else, i won't get to see those notifs. so for example, if you're not reblogging this from my page directly, i won't get to see it đ so if you guys comment, like, reblog, etc, i appreciate you all so much, i might not get to see it, but i appreciate it anyway!
â synopsis: following an abrupt break-up that has lasted a year, you find yourself standing in front of the very apartment where your past lover sleeps, and where you once used to call home. two birthdays, several holidays and one sullen, teary 'could've been' anniversary later â you're ready to face him and ask the unexpected.
â genre: exes to ??? ; angst, smut, fluff.
â pairing: ex-boyfriend!hansol vernon chwe x fem!reader
â word count: 12k.
â rating: 18+. minors do not interact!
â warnings: seungkwan plot device! lots of tears, breakups, mentions of food/eating, mentions of alcohol. smoking (weed), swearing, kissing, exes being exes that can't let go. smut warnings: unprotected sex (yeah yeah don't do it), pet names (babe, baby, etc.) ; brief oral/fingering (f.rec), dirty talk (sorry), body worship, slight breeding kink, ruined orgasms, clitplay, creampie. that's about it i think. enjoy?
â what to listen to: iris - the goo goo dolls ; the only heartbreaker - mitski ; supercut - lorde ; if you leave me - seventeen ; winterbreak - muna ; perdoname - yoskar sarante ; beg for you (remix) - charli xcx, rina sawayama, a.g. cook, vernon.
â author's note: [special thank you to @diamonddaze01, @hannieoftheyear + @ikeukiss for beta-reading most of this before i finished it off tonight!] he's bald! he's bald and he's falling in love with people who have hair! as previously stated, i could not finish off 2025 without thee hansol vernon chwe making his debut on my blog, and i'm incredibly excited to dedicate this one to none other than @sailorsoons ! i'm not going to get sappy because i'm not good at it and i know you don't like it, but please know i love you and i hope your birthday was a blast. here's to you, to 2025 and hansollie's debut on haologram! happy birthday, halali! âĄ
âWHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?âÂ
You donât have an answer for him; your hand clenched inside your jacket pocket, the other gripping the handle of your umbrella. You look up at him from under the rim of the pink shade, his eyes boring into your face. He looks upset, but perhaps...not with you.Â
Maybe the circumstances.Â
âIâm not sure,â you mumble back, your throat burning as you step back slightly.Â
He stays silent as he averts his gaze to your boots, muddy from the rain and possibly jumping in every puddle available. You always liked doing that when the rain was light, and it usually ended up with him offering you a pair of sweatpants when you got home.Â
Or, to his apartment. Itâs not home to you, not anymore.Â
He doesnât say anything as he moves to the side, opening the door wider for you to step inside. Youâre seemingly rooted in place until he turns his head to face the inside of his apartment. Slightly messy, with blankets and sweaters strewn everywhere. Candles burning on his coffee table fill the place you once called home with smells of salted caramel, vanilla and a hint of cedarwood.Â
Youâre quiet as you slip your feet out of your pink rain boots, your mismatched yellow and purple socks doing nothing to keep you warm from the freezing tile of his foyer. You shake off the umbrella, wrapping it closed and leaning it against the brick of his building.Â
âNo one will take it, right?âÂ
âYou know no one will.âÂ
You shove your hand in your pocket as you duck into his apartment, feeling the sting of tears prick at your eyes as you look around his living room. Heâs got his journal open on the coffee table, the list of films you promised youâd watch together displayed in his handwriting. Smudges of blue and splats of ink from what you presume to be tears cover the page.Â
The Netflix account you once shared is paused forty minutes into Mary and The Witchâs Flower.Â
âI thought we saidââÂ
âWe said a lot of things, letâs not go down that rabbit hole.âÂ
You suck in a breath, nodding as he shuts the door. You hear the lock click, before hearing him skirt into the kitchen.Â
âDrink?âÂ
âAny soju?âÂ
A scoff is heard, before the familiar clinking of the green bottles you know he hasnât touched and possibly been sitting since you left. Hansol never did like to drink alone.Â
Even if it meant drowning in every sinking thought he had about you.Â
He comes out of the kitchen with the bottled gripped between his knuckles, and a bottle of juice in his other hand. Itâs new, and itâs one of your favorites. One that he hates.Â
âForce of habit, huh?âÂ
âI guess.âÂ
You inch towards the couch, the Persian rug beneath your feet soft and cushiony. You remember buying it with him, browsing a website heâd gotten from Seungkwan and buying three things while stoned out of your mind. The tiger blanket draped across the couch was one of the three, and a personalized cushion with your initials was the other.Â
That was nowhere to be found.Â
You perch on the edge of the couch, suddenly feeling hot as he sets the drinks on the coffee table. He still smells the same, soft aftershave and cotton deodorant.Â
Cotton deodorant you used to buy for him, in bulk at Costco.Â
He had half a stick on the vanity before you left. Heâs had to have bought more since.Â
Heâs almost too close as he opens the bottles, flicking the caps onto the table and leaning back into the couch. Your fingers brush the sweating neck of the soju bottle as you grab for it, cold and slippery. He takes it from you abruptly, a bit of it spilling down his hand as he shakes his head.Â
âWrong one.âÂ
You look at the bottle in his hand, his fingers just barely covering the word Fresh scrawled on the label. Your cheeks heat as you nod, grabbing for the other one.Â
Yogurt.Â
âDo you need a glass?âÂ
âNo, Iâm okay.âÂ
He hums, picking at the label on his bottle with his ringed forefinger. He doesnât press play on the movie; he doesnât move to comfort any sort of awkward situation. Hansol knows youâll speak when youâre ready.Â
âWhatâs the movie about?âÂ
âThe kidâs a witch.âÂ
âOh, cool.âÂ
âYep.âÂ
His eyes are wide as he quickly faces you; your eyes glued to the burning flame of the salted caramel candle on his coffee table. You bought that one. You bought it at a home goods store, and you remember scowling at him when he raised an eyebrow at you when you beelined for it â you'd told him youâd just wanted to get new pillows for the bed.Â
Pillows you left behind.Â
âDo you hate me, Hansol? Iâd hate me?âÂ
âI could never hate you.âÂ
You swallow hard, your fingers tightening around the bottle of soju. He sighs, setting his down on the coffee table before running a hand through his hair. Or lack thereof, heâs buzzed it off since â chocolate brown hair youâd run your fingers through before bed or swipe out of his eyes when he was too concentrated on Mario Kart.Â
He looks good.Â
He looks...tired.Â
âI could never hate you.â He repeats, and suddenly, the air feels thicker around you. Everything feels like it weighs a thousand pounds, your chest tight as you force yourself to look up at him. His eyes are rimmed with unshed tears, your jaw dropping slightly as you inch forward.Â
He looks away, wiping his eyes quickly before clearing his throat.Â
âYou did what you thought was best. I canât hate you for taking care of yourself, thatâs what youâre supposed to do.â He mumbles thickly, shrugging his shoulders as he traces the spout of the bottle. You follow his fingers carefully, your heart sinking at the slight tremble in them.Â
âIâm sorry I disturbed you tonight, Hansol.â You murmur back, wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans, still damp from sprinkles of the rain. He shakes his head, sighing. Youâre both staring at the condensation dripping on his coffee table.Â
His coffee table that you bought together. His bottle of juice that heâs never going to drink. His television, and the remote that you always changed the batteries to because he would forget.Â
His apartment. Speckled with you, everywhere. Everywhere you looked, you saw yourself.Â
âYou didnât.âÂ
âI did.âÂ
âDonât tell me how I feel, Y/N. Iâm so tired of everyone telling me how I feel, or how Iâm supposed to feel, or whatever. Iâm human, too. I can feel whatever I want. And you didnât disturb me, okay? I wouldnât have opened the door if I didnât want to.âÂ
Your chest aches at the sound of your name from his lips, eyes wide as you look at him; his own still trained on the condensation gathering on his coffee table. You watch him as his eyes follow the drops sliding down the bottles, your tongue darting out slowly to wet your lips.Â
âWhy...did you?âÂ
âWhy did I what?âÂ
âOpen the door.âÂ
âItâs storming. You only like rain when itâs light.â He whispers to himself, before glancing at you. âYou still...right? You still donât like thunder?âÂ
Itâs only been a year, but he acts like itâs been an eternity.Â
Maybe it has been.Â
Maybe itâs been a millennia for him, as it has been for you.Â
âRight,â you nod, picking at your nail polish as your leg starts bouncing. He used to stop you â when he was your boyfriend. Heâd splay his hand on your kneecap; his thumb would rub gentle circles into the side before giving it a squeeze. You found solace in the touch.Â
Now? Heâs more than a cushion and a half away, and the space between you is hot; itâs burning hot. And you so badly want to close the gap, to feel his hand on your knee and feel the comfort of him spread through your body.Â
In any way. Youâd allow it in any way.Â
âItâs been a year. Today.â You clear your throat, and he closes his eyes â folding his hands in his lap as he leans back into the couch. He nods before resting his head on the back of his couch and opening his eyes to look at you.Â
â...Is this where we do the whole âhow have you beenâ bullshit?âÂ
There is a lilt of a smile in his voice, but it doesnât show on his face. You shake your head, shrugging your shoulders.Â
âI donât know.âÂ
âYou donât know how youâve been, or you donât know ifââÂ
âI miss you, Hansol.â You blurt, wincing inwardly as you shove your hands under your thighs; your fingers cold from the bottle and the rain and the way all the blood in your body rushes to your chest to aid the fire of anxiety in growing. You shift, wondering how long you could stare at the coffee table before your eyes wore holes into it.Â
â...Is that why youâre here?âÂ
You suck in a shaky breath, opting to close your eyes. If youâre going to cry, you donât want to see his reaction to it. You donât want to see the flame in his eyes when he tells you to get out, to leave â that youâre too little, too late.Â
That he doesnât want you anymore, and youâll have to live with the regret of leaving him for the sake of nothing for the rest of your life.Â
âI know I donât get to say that. I know itâs my fault. I left, and I...Iâm sorry, Hansol. Iâm sorry that I was a coward and I jumped ship when things started getting serious. I was a douche, and you donât have to miss me. You donât have to feel anything, I just...â Your tongue darts out to lick your lips, the salty taste of a stray tear coating the tip.Â
âI wasnât even in the neighborhood. I was six blocks away; Iâd gotten coffee with Seungkwan. He told me you still lived here, and that you were good. That you were doing well.âÂ
âAnd you wanted to...what? Check and make sure for yourself? Ruin it, if I was?âÂ
Thereâs no poison in his voice. Hansol has always been diplomatic, respectful. Sometimes you wondered if there was a single bone in his body that ever felt rage. The urge to make everything look like a war zone, the subtle need to want to destroy every relationship heâs ever built from the ground up.Â
Sometimes, you feel that kind of rage.Â
âI donât know,â you murmur, tightly squeezing your eyes shut as you feel him shift on the other edge of the couch. A roll of thunder is heard outside, your fingers gripping the fabric of the cushion beneath your thighs as it fades.Â
You donât catch the way he instinctively reaches for you, before sinking back into the cushion.Â
âI donât know what I wanted to do. I donât know what Iâm doing here.âÂ
He hums, and you sniffle. One of your hands reaches to swipe at your face, wiping the tears on your jeans as you face away from him. You open your eyes, looking at the wall through the blur of tears. All the frames on the wall are still the same, and they hold all of your pictures together. Your face is still cemented in the memories, and you wonder how he felt looking at those pictures every single day.Â
âDo you want to talk about everything?â He asks softly, and you glance over your shoulder to see him resting his cheek on his palm. His eyes are just as gentle and understanding as theyâve always been.Â
As warm as theyâve always been.Â
âIt could help you...uh, figure yourself out.âÂ
Help you figure yourself out.Â
âWhat is there to talk about? I left for no reason.âÂ
âDonât do that. You left to find yourself. You left to take care of you.âÂ
âAnd it was selfish,â you scoff, and he clicks his tongue.Â
âYou think so?âÂ
âI know so.âÂ
âI think it wouldâve been worse if I kept begging you to stay, knowing you wouldnât have been happy here. I mean, look around,â he gestures to the apartment. There is so much of you, and so much of him. âEverything in this apartment was a display of what our relationship was. Everything was you and me, me and you and us. It was never just Y/N, and it was never just Hansol. I could not, in good faith, keep you here if it was me that was suffocating you. It was not fair.âÂ
âYou could never suffocate me,â you mumble to yourself, feeling a few tears trickle down your face as you speak. Â
Itâs silent for a moment.Â
âWhat about you, Sol?âÂ
The nickname slips from your bitten lips, and he sighs.Â
âWhat about me, Y/N?âÂ
âIf the tables were turned. If I had begged the way you did, would you have stayed?âÂ
Itâs not a fair question. You know itâs not, and you can tell he thinks itâs not as his eyes shut, and he silently nods his head. He tongues his cheek, running a hand over his buzzed hair and down his face.Â
âThatâs not a fair question.âÂ
âI know.âÂ
You nod, choosing to refocus your gaze on the coffee table. There was a sticker youâd peeled off an apple a few weeks before you left, still stuck to the table leg. It looks glossed over, like itâd come unstuck and somehow been put back. Glue, maybe. Clear nail polish.Â
âWhy didnât you change the apartment?âÂ
âIn case you ever found your way back.âÂ
There was a hint of hope in the back of his throat, and you realize that heâs wearing the same hoodie he wore the day you left. Baby blue, over a white t-shirt. You bought it for him, just a few weeks before you decided that things were too overwhelming. That the idea of forever was too similar to the feeling of impending doom, that seeing him so irrevocably in love with you when you couldnât even understand the ache in your chest when you looked at yourself in the mirror...it felt unfair. It felt unfair to lose yourself in him.Â
It felt unfair to have the goodness of Hansolâs heart in the palm of your hand.Â
And it was unfair to get to break it into pieces as he knelt in front of you that very day, his forehead pressed against your thighs int he very same jeans youâre wearing now. The way his tears soaked through the material the same way the rain had, and how you bit back your own sobs as you carded your fingers through his hair that night â before untangling his arms from around your knees and walking out of the navy grey door you wish would open so you could bolt out right now.Â
âIf I beg nowââÂ
âYou never have to beg for anything. Not from me.âÂ
You felt your throat ache as you forced yourself to swallow, holding back a sob as he sighed quietly.Â
âCan I...talk about what it was like not having you around?â His voice is tentative, almost like he was talking to a deer he didnât want to spook. You nod in silence, letting the tears drip onto your pants freely as you continue to stare at the coffee table.Â
âI still go by the grocery list you left on the fridge. Eggs, bread, strawberry jam and that gross fucking juice.âÂ
âI havenât used pots or pans. I bought a crappy set from the dollar store to get myself through the days alone. I havenât used the silverware, but I havenât polished it either...so itâs just gathering dust in the drawer. I havenât slept in the bedroom, either. I usually sleep here, on the couch. You left a tube of lipstick on the bathroom counter, and your shampoo is still in the shower caddy.âÂ
He nods, and you can feel the heat of his gaze leave your face. You peek at him through the corner of your eye, seeing him looking behind you â at the wall of photos.Â
âI bought a sample size of your perfume, so the bathroom would still smell like it did in the morning when you would leave for work.âÂ
You can feel your chest ache; almost like someone had reached into your ribcage and squeezed your heart so tight, it could burst in their hand.Â
âI refill the same disposable soap you bought the week you left. The detergent is still the same cotton scent, because you said that the other scents made your head hurt. I bought a new air freshener a few months ago but went back to return it because it was Febreze, and you donât like Febreze unless itâs the Linen & Sky scent. I replaced the baking soda in the refrigerator, but the only food in there is what I mentioned earlier. Eggs, bread, strawberry jam.âÂ
âAnd the juice,â you utter, and you can sense a dull ache start to thump at your temples. You bring your fingers up to your face, rubbing slow circles. Your eyes are low as they flicker up to the wall next to the door â his caps are hung up in the exact order they had been when you left. His navy New York Yankees, blue Texas Rangers, black Chicago White Sox and a pink one he rarely wore unless the two of you were going somewhere together.Â
It had your initials embroidered on the bill.Â
âI left everything exactly the same. I wanted it to still feel like home to you, if you ever came back.âÂ
You turn to face him, seeing his eyes brimming with tears as he clears his throat, but interrupt him before he can speak.Â
âI carry a Polaroid of us in my wallet,â you start, running a hand over your face as you bring your knees to your chest, leaning back fully into the couch. âI carry a Polaroid of us, and I would show it to guys when they asked me if I was dating anyone. I couldnât bring myself to delete any of our photos, so I put them all in a locked folder and forced myself to never look at it. Iâve eaten so much peanut butter, and it doesnât even taste good. I hate it, actually. I hate peanut butter.âÂ
He covers his mouth with his fingers, pursing his lips so as to not let his laughter out. You feel a smile try to fight its way onto your lips, but you swallow it down as you pick at a loose thread on the couch. You used to snip them when you still lived here. Youâre sure if you reach just under the middle cushion, the gold pair of sewing scissors would still be tucked away safely.Â
âI left, and I was miserable. I was miserable because I was doing everything to let go of something...of someone I was so sure I didnât deserve. I was trying to erase you from my life, but you were already missing. I would order too much food and wonder what to do with the leftovers. I would see a poster for a new indie movie I thought youâd like, and Iâd go to text you, typing in the message box before I realized I couldnât just do that. It wasnât fair.âÂ
âI saw the bubble pop up a lot,â he confesses softly. You must look confused, because he clears his throat before shrugging, âI once opened the chat while I was in the grocery store. I was going to ask you if we needed anything else. You were typing and then you stopped. I cried in the dry cereal aisle, a little girl called me a wimp, and I left without groceries. Itâs kind of funny, now that I think about it.âÂ
âIâm sorry.âÂ
âThatâs the last time you say that to me. Iâm sick of hearing it.âÂ
His eyes are serious, no longer glazed with tears. You nod slowly, before you run your tongue over your lips for a third time. Itâs suddenly too dry in his apartment, and you feel your skin start to itch as you clear your throat.Â
âI miss you, Sol.âÂ
You feel your eyes flood, a fat teardrop splatting onto your hand. You wipe it off on your jeans, before sniveling one last time and pushing off the couch.Â
âThank you for listening, and for letting me in.âÂ
He nods silently, before standing up. He doesnât move towards the door â instead beelining for what used to be your shared bedroom. You wipe at your eyes haphazardly, drying your hands of what few tears were left on the back of your jeans. You can hear him rooting around, and you opt to move towards the hallway mirror to check your reflection.Â
In the corner of the mirrorâs frame is a Polaroid of you and him. Your cheeks squished together, with your birthday scrawled in blue marker across the bottom in his handwriting. A lopsided heart follows the date.Â
Itâs been so many years since that photo. It feels like so long ago.Â
Heâs wearing the same blue hoodie, and your shoulders brave the same hot pink windbreaker.Â
Heâd spotted it at a thrift store, the windbreaker. And the jeans you have on. And the t-shirt you wear to bed, still sullied with the scent of his deodorant and his toothpaste stain that doesnât come out no matter how many times you wash it.Â
And you realize â that you are entangled.Â
You are everything he is, and he is everything you are. You mirror one another â from the love of cinema to the way you find each other in every universe; whether itâs in a baby blue hoodie and a hot pink windbreaker, in bottles of Fresh and Yogurt soju, or in a pink cap with your initials embroidered on it and the locket he got you with his engraved.Â
It burns the skin of your chest under your shirt.Â
Your bedroom at your motherâs house is riddled with more of him â from the single love letter you took when you left, to the odd collection of his shirt and hoodies youâd stolen from him over the years. He picked the forest green paint on the walls a few summers ago, and he made you a shitload of tchotchkes to line the floating shelves heâd helped you put up. Youâd escaped there when you left him a year ago.Â
Only a few miles from him.Â
From home.Â
You bring your hand to your chest, feeling around for the gold locket and finding it twisted in your cleavage. It held two pictures â one of him as a baby, and one of you together. Close to your heart, close to your soul â you carried him.Â
You would beg. God, you would beg.Â
You would â if it meant you didnât have to leave. If it meant you could leave your umbrella outside and know that Mrs. Kim next door would borrow it in the morning to get her newspaper before putting it back. You would beg on your hands and knees if it meant that Hansol wrapped his arms around you in this very moment, and let you breathe in the cotton and salted caramel and vanilla and everything heâs ever been.Â
You would beg, plead, pray to whatever God was out there to feel the warmth of his lips against your forehead. To hear that he missed you, he misses you. To stay up well into the night watching Princess Mononoke on his iPad in the kitchen while you bicker about how bad he is at polishing the silverware.Â
To lay in bed with him and count his eyelashes. To stuff a towel on the windowsill so you can open the window and breathe in the petrichor but not ruin the paint. To throw the duvet off the bed and run your hands under his shirt, likely stained with splatters of kimchi stew and the juice he fucking hates but drinks because it reminds him of the way you taste.Â
But itâs much sweeter when he thinks of it that way, he told you once. It tastes a lot better when itâs on your lips.Â
He loves that gross fucking juice when itâs lingering on your tongue.Â
You sigh, finally looking at your face in the mirror. Hansol is standing behind you, brows slightly furrowed as he seemingly stares at the back of your head. You jump, your hand splaying on your chest as you suck in a breath too quickly.Â
âYou jerk, you scared me!âÂ
âIâll wear a bell next time,â he rolls his eyes, before holding up something in the mirror. Purple with white flowers, yellow with cats â your socks.Â
Ones you lost a year ago.Â
âWhere did you find those?âÂ
âMrs. Kim next door found them in her basket after she pulled her clothes from the dryer yesterday. She said she remembered you running in your underwear for the newspaper and you were wearing the purple ones.âÂ
Your eyes widen, âIâve never run outside in my underwear! And I had shorts on that day!âÂ
âMy boxers do not count as shorts,â he snorts, before holding them out to you. âUnderwear is still underwear, no matter who wears it.âÂ
âPft. Whatever.â You mutter before hesitating to take the socks. It could mean the end of whatever this was â you would have to stuff them in your pocket and walk towards his front door. You would have to turn his doorknob and hold onto the threshold of his apartment as you slipped your feet back into your wet rain boots. You would have to stand in his stoop as you shook out and opened your umbrella.Â
You would have to look into his eyes and say goodbye.Â
And for how long?Â
How long will goodbye be this time?Â
You reach behind you and carefully take the socks, your thumb brushing him. He doesnât move, doesnât react â only watching as you tuck the socks into the pocket of your windbreaker. His eyes return to the mirror, the Polaroid in the corner catching his attention.Â
âI havenât looked at that photo in so long,â he murmurs, stepping forward slightly. You can feel the heat of his body on your back, before nimble fingers pluck the photo from the corner of the frame. He looks like heâs in pain as he takes it, as if it hurts him to move anything that was there when you left.Â
His thumb wipes dust off the photo, particularly off your face. You look at the mirror and see the perfect outline of the Polaroid, formed by the dust. You reach over and wipe it off, before wiping your hand on your jeans.Â
Iâm ready to come home.Â
Please. Ask me to come home.Â
He glances up at the motion, tonguing his cheek as he manages to place the picture back perfectly.Â
âNice try.âÂ
You donât respond, but he doesn't say anything else, either. He simply stares at the photo before sighing softly. He looks hesitant, and you continue to let your eyes linger on the heart-shape of his smile in the photo as you mutter under your breath.Â
âItâs still raining.âÂ
âItâs only going to get worse. Iâm surprised you agreed to go out with Seungkwan at all.âÂ
You nod, before your eyes flit back to the mirror. Heâs not looking at the photo anymore â but at you. His eyes are full of emotions you canât place as he scans the entirety of your face, as if heâs taking you in; as if he canât believe youâre real.Â
As if he canât believe youâre home.Â
âYou changed your mascara.âÂ
You blink, opting to clear your throat as you nod, âhowâd you know?âÂ
âThe other one was kind of blue, I think. This one is brown.â He shrugs, âI liked the blue one.âÂ
âIâll wear it more often,â you reply smoothly, before realizing it was one of the responses youâd give him when he complimented something you donned during your relationship. The hot pink windbreaker, the jeans you have on, OPI polish in Cos-mo Money on your fingernails.Â
He doesnât say anything else, and you feel your throat dry as his eyes continue their path around your face. Eyes, nose...Â
Lips.Â
âI miss you,â he murmurs.Â
You feel your back stiffen as he shifts away, hearing his footsteps round the edge of the couch. He doesnât sit down â instead, blowing out his candles as he gathers the bottles of untouched soju and tucks the unopened juice under his arm as he speaks.Â
âI miss you, and I donât want you to leave. I understand if you have to, and Iâll be here when youâre ready to come home.âÂ
Youâre rooted in place as you watch him slink away into the kitchen, hearing him pour the liquor down the drain. The clinking of the bottles is mocking you as he rinses them, before sliding them into the glass-only recycling bin. The sound of the refrigerator opening pains you, hearing the clunk of the heavy juice bottle being slid into the door before it shuts again.Â
For what seems like the thousandth time today, you feel your eyes sting with tears. Your nose burns as you wait for him to slip out of the kitchen, your fingers toying with the zipper of your windbreaker before it gets the chance to start feeling too sticky on your skin. You tug it off, bunching it up and tossing it over the back of the couch before running your hands over your face in frustration.Â
âToo sticky?âÂ
He appears next to you; eyes rimmed red as he sidles up. Or at least you wish he would â he's a good foot and a half away. The tip of his nose is pink, and there is a soft sheen on his cheeks â from tears finally spilling, you assume.Â
It makes you ache.Â
It makes your teeth hurt, the bittersweet pain of watching the man who you were sure put the stars in the sky every night feel like he had to act like you were a stranger while still yearning for you â just to make you comfortable. Why does he do that?Â
How can he do that?Â
âHansol?âÂ
âMmh?âÂ
You should feel pathetic, selfish, with the way the words crawl up your throat so easily.Â
âCan I stay?âÂ
He doesnât respond; his eyes glancing at the clock above the television. It was one of the first things you bought together â at yet another thrift store. It had a badly painted version of Shrek and Donkey on the face; the numbers shakily smeared, but the two of you bought it for giggles. It became a statement piece; your friends always commented on how ugly the thing was in comparison to everything else in your home.Â
But it was so you, and it was so Hansol.Â
So, who cares?Â
âPlease. Please, let me stay, Sol.âÂ
âYou donât need to beg. This is your home.â He shakes his head, and you can feel your voice shaking before you can even get the words out.Â
âYou donât have to miss me because I miss you. You donât have to love me, because I love you. Itâs not transactional.âÂ
You almost miss the way he rolls his eyes, before he glances down at you by the slope of his nose. His brow is raised, your skin prickling at the sight.Â
âDonât tell me how to feel.âÂ
âIâm not.âÂ
He shrugs, perching on the back of the couch. His hands are hidden in the pocket of his hoodie, and the proximity is enough to make your knees grow weak â worsening as a hint of that soft aftershave floats up your nostrils.Â
âYou are. Iâm allowed to miss you, you know. Iâm allowed to think about you before I go to bed at three in the morning. Iâm allowed to feel the twist in my stomach when I look at the toothbrush you left that I havenât had the balls to replace, as if youâre still here. Iâm allowed to still love you, after all this time.âÂ
âI was gone for a year. You should hate me.â You lament, absently picking at your cuticles, âan entire year, Hansol. Two birthdays, yours and mine. So many holidays so many special events...all over my own insecurities of not knowing who I was and if I was even worth your time.âÂ
He scoffs, shaking his head, âa year, ten years, a millennia. My heart has only ever been my own when youâre not the one holding it. Only then, could you have told me how to feel, and I still wouldnât have listened to you. I will love you even if you do not love me, and even when you feel like you donât deserve it. Even when you know who you are, and especially when you donât. Because I know.âÂ
You feel your lip jut out in a pout as you try to hold back the pathetic sob in your throat, only to see his hand slip out of his pocket and stop you from picking at your skin. Heâs warm, like he always is.Â
Heâs warm, inviting. Comforting.Â
You look up cautiously, only to see the same gaze youâd been used to in the mornings just a year ago. Soft, gentle, loving. Unadulterated adoration.Â
Glazed over with a hint of uncertainty. Of the present, of the future.Â
Of us, and everything we are. Everything we could be, and everything we are.Â
You look around the apartment, the weight of his hand on yours seeping into your bones. You take everything in again â the coffee table, the condensation left from the bottles, the remote. The television. The journal, with smudged blue ink. The candles. The hideous Shrek clock.Â
Your coffee table that you bought together. Your television, and the remote you always changed the batteries to because he would forget. The journal you bought him at a bookstore while he was preparing to visit his sister in New York City. The candles you bought around the time of that trip, because they reminded you of him â though he smells like cotton and they smell like candy.Â
The blanket you knitted yourself when he complained about being cold one evening â it took you four months, but it was well worth it to see the giddy grin on his face when you finally threw it over him before bed. The glass chess set that had been gathering dust in the corner for far longer than youâd been gone â one that you lost three games to him on, and sulked for hours as he peppered kisses all over your face.Â
Your bright red coat hung by the window, one that youâd gone frantic looking for as the colder months crept in â right next to his black one.Â
Coats you bought together.Â
âCan I see the bedroom?âÂ
He nods silently, pushing off the back of the couch as you nervously intertwine your fingers. He says nothing, only squeezing your hand softly as he leads you down the hall â as if youâd never been there. He twists the doorknob open; the room illuminated only by the gloomy sky outside.Â
You reluctantly let go of his hand to step inside, your fingers flexing at your sides as you walk on the soft beige carpet. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and watching you stare at the floating shelves on the walls. Everything is still where you left it â wooden plane models, a few Smiski figurines, a singular LEGO wildflower bouquet. A deck of tarot cards that you used to fool around with him on long nights, stoned and flipping your bar of selenite through your fingers while he actively asked what upright Lovers meant.Â
The bed is made â the sage green sheets neatly tucked and folded under the mattress. The pillows are fluffed and stacked exactly the way you left them the day you went out the front door. Your pitcher of water had been refilled, and the glass wasnât fogged over â it was new water.Â
Clean water.Â
The window is open, and a familiar pink towel is rolled carefully and stuffed onto the windowsill â the room smells of petrichor and your perfume. You spot the wall still lined with your shared collection of vinyl records, the player still holding Dizzy Up the Girl by The Goo Goo Dolls.Â
He bought you that one the day before you left. You remember laying on the floor with him, your head on his stomach while his fingers ran through your hair. You had told yourself you wouldnât cry that night â but you did anyway, at half past four in the morning as he lay asleep in your arms.Â
Your fingers gently run over the needle, before you pick it up carefully and place it on one of the grooves. The first few notes of All Eyes on Me play through the small speakers before you lift the needle and stop it. You let it fall back into its slot in front of the record, before folding your hands behind your back and turning to face him â your eyes immediately dropping to the floor.Â
âAre you ready to come home?âÂ
You look up wearily, feeling your breath catch in your throat.Â
âI love you, Hansol.âÂ
âThat doesnât answer my question, Y/N.âÂ
You move forward abruptly, circling your arms around his waist and tucking yourself into his chest. He reciprocates carefully, almost as if heâs afraid.Â
His hands tremble slightly as they ghost over your back, your own fisting the back of his hoodie as you press your face into the fabric. You feel his cheek rest on the top of your head, hearing a sigh slip from his lips as his hand slides up your back. Your voice is muffled as you speak into his chest, but you know he can hear you just fine.Â
Hansol has always understood you, deeper than words.Â
âI have to pick some stuff up from my momâs.âÂ
âY/N. Answer the question.âÂ
âIâm ready to come home, Sol.â You murmur, before feeling the tips of his fingers move your hair away from your neck. He smooths it down your back with one hand, the other swiping stray tendrils from your forehead. You look up at him, resting your chin on his chest as he pads his thumbs over your cheeks.Â
âI hate it when you cry. It makes my stomach hurt.âÂ
His honesty makes you snort, and you struggle not to roll your eyes as he continues to caress your face. He runs his thumbs over your brows, across your eyelids, down your cheeks...Â
On your lips.Â
âYou cut your hair,â you whisper, and he nods.Â
âI was having one of those moments. Like when girls give themselves bangs because they need to feel in control of something,â he shrugs, before his eyes light up slightly. âDidnât you bleachââÂ
âShut up. You promised me we wouldnât talk about it after it happened. Plus, you look like Buzz Lightyear. Leave me alone.âÂ
âIâll have you know that being called Buzz Lightyear is actually a compliment,â he gloats, making you huff.Â
âYeah, because being compared to a delusional space cowboy is the way to go.âÂ
âYou did not just call him a delusional space cowboy, bro.âÂ
âYou did not just call me bro, Hansol.âÂ
He bites back his smile, carding his fingertips through your hair. You close your eyes at the sensation, preening at the way it sends subtle shivers down your spine.Â
âCall me babe, or something. Honey. I like doll, too, that was a good one.â Youâre murmuring into his sweater, hoping youâll open your eyes, and he wonât suddenly disappear. Your fingers reflexively tighten around the fabric of his sweater in your fists, and you hear the rickety laughter youâve missed so much ring through the air.Â
âIâm not going anywhere, just relax.â His fingers tug gently at the hair on the nape of your neck, making you scowl. Your lip juts out as you look up at him through damp lashes, eyes full of guilt.Â
âDo you forgive me?â The words weigh on your tongue, and you feel the tiniest bit pathetic laying yourself out like this â but itâs Hansol.Â
âNothing to forgive, you know.âÂ
âYou donât resent me at all?âÂ
"Not one bit.âÂ
Your eyes scan his; narrowing at the hint of mischief in the depth of them as you pull back slightly. Your brows furrow, a scoff leaving your lips as you poke your finger into his chest.Â
âYouâre lying.âÂ
âIâm not. If anything...I just missed you.â He admits quietly, pressing his forehead to the top of your head before wrapping his arms around your neck and pulling you close, âI miss seeing you when I come home from work. I miss finding you passed out while folding laundry on the carpet. I miss holding you, like this.âÂ
He sighs, shaking his head as he tucks strands of your hair behind your ears before thumbing at your pierced earlobes. Small hoops loop through them â gold ones, a gift from him many years ago.Â
âI miss sleeping next to you, in our bed. That couch has awful cushions, why did we buy it?âÂ
â...We didnât. Seungkwan made us take it when you moved out, remember? Because we...you know. On it.â You glance up at him quizzically, his cheeks tinging pink as the memory settles in the forefront of his mind. He grimaces, baring his teeth slightly as he shudders.Â
âI still canât believe he didnât knock.âÂ
âIt was his apartment, Sol.âÂ
â...And it was his couch, huh?â He snorts, glancing down at you. You nod, letting a smile paint your lips as your laugh slips out. He smiles at the sound, leaning slightly closer. His fingertips tug on your earrings lightly.Â
âYou missed me, right?âÂ
âIs this when you fake me out two or three times before you kiss me?â You raise a brow, palms clammy as he shrugs.Â
âI could, or I couldnât. Depends on your answer, and how much.â His face is ever so slightly closer to yours, and you never really know how to react to this side of him â now, or a year ago â despite being the only receiver of it for over half a decade. Everyone views him as someone so cool, so calm, so collected â no one really understands how easily flustered you get at his subliminally flirtatious comments, or the way he looks at you like he could eat you alive...or the way he eggs you on with his provocative insinuations and those stupid eyes of his until you fold like a house of cards.Â
Heâs an enigma of a man, a lover, a soul.Â
âA lot.âÂ
âA lot.âÂ
âSo much. Iâll get a billboard and make it say I love Hansol Chwe.âÂ
âOh, you missed me so bad.â He chides, making you scoff as you dig your fingers into his sides lightly. He squeals, his hands grabbing your wrists and holding them away from his body, âdonât do that!âÂ
His eyes are considerably lighter than when youâd arrived â and you feel your cheeks grow warm as he lets your arms go, once more carding his fingers through your hair.Â
âYouâre still awful at detangling,â he murmurs, before cradling your face in his hands. âHorrible, awful, no good at detangling your hair.âÂ
âYeah, well...â you huff, crossing your arms as you look away. âYou kind of get used to someone else doing it for you.âÂ
He hums, âdo you need to go get your stuff tonight?âÂ
You shake your head, glancing up at him with a small smile, âif I go tonight, the silverware wonât get polished. And we need that, so we can have dinner.âÂ
âI am not polishing silverware tonight.âÂ
âOh, yes, you are. I canât imagine how dusty my forks are.âÂ
âOur forks, first of all. Second of all, weâre not polishing them tonight. We have other things to do,â he rolls his eyes, pressing a kiss to your hairline.Â
You swallow the hitched breath in your throat, feigning nonchalance as you raise a brow at him.Â
âOh, do we? What other things, Hansol?âÂ
âThe usual, you know.â He plants another kiss to your temple, âfirst order of business is actually ordering takeout.âÂ
âTakeout, he says. Have you got money for that?â You close your eyes as his lips brush the soft arch of your brows, your eyelids, forehead...the tip of your nose. âLast I checked, we were very frugal. Eggs, bread, strawberry jam.âÂ
âYou made us expand our budget for your nasty ass juice. I think takeout can be an option tonight,â he mumbles against your cheek, and you feel your stomach start to flutter as he brushes his lips against it. âSecond order of business is actually a shower. We can listen to that true crime podcast you like while I detangle your hair. This is just unacceptable.âÂ
âMaybe I should shave my head.âÂ
âIâd hate for you to think that youâre a delusional space cowboy, babe.âÂ
Your eyes widen slightly at the pet name, but he doesnât allow you to speak as he presses his lips to yours softly â smooth with the scent of strawberry lip balm. Itâs chaste, itâs fast.Â
Too chaste, too fast for your taste.Â
âThird orderââÂ
âNo, no. Kiss me.âÂ
He raises a brow, but does as you ask. His lips mold against yours, your hands finding home on his chest. He moves to pull back, but you chase after him â pulling him back and deepening the kiss. You feel like youâre on fire as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him; your fingers pawing at his sweater as you slip your tongue into his mouth.Â
The groan from his throat still tastes like home.Â
He still tastes like home; like strawberry jam and your disgusting juice. Sweet, tart. Loving.Â
âI missed you, Sol.âÂ
He doesnât reply, his hand gingerly wrapping around your throat as he pulls you back in. The way he kisses you is desperate; holding you against him tightly as he pushes off the doorframe. He starts moving you backward, your hands wrapped around his wrist as the back of your knees hit the foot of the bed.Â
âSolââÂ
âShh.âÂ
His lips never leave yours, his hand moving from your neck to the back of your head, tangling in your hair. He lays you back against the comforter gently, your hand fisting the collar of his hoodie. You tug at it as he licks into your mouth, a soft groan falling from your throat as his fingertips breach the hem of your t-shirt and graze over the skin of your belly.Â
You pull back from his lips with a quiet pant, your own swollen as you blink up at him. You feel his fingers squeeze your side carefully, eyes searching your face.Â
âY/N?âÂ
His voice is soft as he hovers over you lightly, his knee slotted between yours, and you feel your throat burn as your hand strokes his jaw.Â
âIâm sorry for leaving.âÂ
He shakes his head, his hands moving to hold your face, âstop it. Stop being sorry for taking care of yourself. I love you. I know you, and I know that if you felt the need to leave...you had to do it. Please stop being sorry. Just...just let me love you, even if you have to leave again in another year. In ten years, in a month...tomorrow.âÂ
You breathe out shakily, peering at him through teary eyes. His gaze is still everything itâs ever been.Â
Warm, gentle.Â
Home.Â
âPlease, just let me.âÂ
âI love you.âÂ
âI know, babe. I know.âÂ
You sit up abruptly, your hand moving to pull at the hem of his sweatshirt. He obliges, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side as you move up the bed. His lips find yours again as your head hits the pillow, slower than before. Like heâs savoring the moment, his fingers toying with the button of your jeans before he pops it free. He breaks the kiss briefly, pulling your jeans down with ease. You kick them off the edge of the bed as his hands slide up your thighs slowly, warm and soft. A finger snaps the waistband of your underwear against your hip, making you scowl as you swat his hand away.Â
âDonât be mean.âÂ
âMânot being mean, baby.â He bites back a smile, watching as you sit up on your elbows, feeling the bed sink slightly under him as he hovers over you, the tip of his nose brushing yours. You look up at him through your lashes, moving to bridge the gap as he pulls back slightly.Â
âSol?âÂ
âI love you.âÂ
Your chest heats as he presses his lips against yours, his hand pushing your thighs apart slightly. It slides up your hip; his thumb rubbing circles into your lower belly before he slips it under the hem of your shirt. He deepens the kiss, pushing your shirt up to the bottom of your breasts as the cool air makes your skin prickle with goosebumps. You move to pull it over your head, tossing it somewhere across the bedroom before pulling him back to your mouth, slipping your tongue between his lips. Â
His hands wander, softly clawing at your sides and enveloping your hips in the warmth of his fingers as your own pull at the short ends of his hair. His lips trail up your jaw, soft and feathery, before his teeth nip at your earlobe. Your knee digs into his side as he tugs lightly at your earring, and you twist away from him â only to feel the scrape of his teeth against your neck, earning a whine from your throat as your legs tighten around his hips.Â
âTake your pants off,â you whisper, a frown tugging at your lips as you feel him shake his head.Â
âNot yet,â he speaks against your skin, his lips trailing down your neck and across your clavicle. His hold on your hips loosens as his hands slide down your thighs, parting them further to slot himself between them as he peppers kisses down your chest â flattening his tongue on your nipple before you can speak. A choked sound leaves your mouth as he rolls his tongue over the sensitive bud, his thumb brushing over your neglected nipple with precision. Heâs gentle, your thighs trying to close around his hips as he hums against your skin.Â
âMissed seeing you like this,â he murmurs, switching sides and pulling your nipple into his mouth with a soft suck. Your breathing is shaky, embarrassingly shaky â and you feel him smile against your skin, âreally? Already? Iâm flattered.âÂ
âShut up,â you bite, earning a chuckle as he trails his lips back up your neck with a tentative roll of his hips against yours. Your cheeks grow hot, feeling the weight of his cock against your clit through your flimsy underwear. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders lightly as you try to grind your hips up against him, only for him to pin you to the mattress.Â
âGod, I missed you.â His voice is gravelly, rutting his shaft against you harder before his hand suddenly slips between your legs and slide over the damp patch of arousal soaking through your panties. He presses his fingers against it, a gasp catching in your throat â your cheeks burning as you feel him pull away from your neck. Your fingers move to pull at his sweatpants, but he moves your hand away with a quick shake of his head as his hands slide down your legs. He follows their path with his lips, dragging open-mouthed kisses up your thighs and calves, even pulling your socks off to kiss the sides of your feet.Â
His fingertips hook around the cotton fabric of your panties, his eyes flickering up to meet yours as he pulls on them gently. You lift your hips to let him pull them down entirely; the fabric flung somewhere across the room as he spreads your thighs, settling between them with a kiss to your hip. You cover your face with shaky hands as his lips trail across your skin, peering up at you through his lashes as he ghosts over your center. You peek out from between your fingers to see him biting back a smile as he shakes his head, âbaby, itâs just me.âÂ
âYeah, wellââ Your sentence is cut short with a choked gasp as he flattens his tongue against your cunt, licking a fat stripe through your folds and gathering your arousal before sucking your clit into his mouth carefully. His eyes flutter shut at the taste, your teeth sinking into your lip to stop the embarrassing whine trying to claw its way out of your throat. He sucks harder, your fingers flying to his hair and tugging the short strands as best as you can before you feel his fingers prodding at your entrance. They slide in easily, your thighs closing around his head with a soft whimper. He forces them apart with his shoulders, pinning your rutting hips to the mattress with his arm as he curls his fingers inside you, his tongue working you over almost painfully slow â and the warmth in your lower just starts to spread as he pulls away.
âDid you touch yourself while you were gone?â His voice is much steadier than you trust your own to be, his fingers expertly working you open as you nodded, feeling his lips trail down your shoulder. âDid you think about me while you did it?âÂ
âE-Everyday,â you hate the meekness in your tone, your nails digging uselessly into his bicep as he smiles against your skin. His free hand trails up your arm, gently pulling your hand away from his body and kissing your knuckles.Â
âShow me.âÂ
You force yourself to peer at him through your lashes, eyes low as he brings you closer to the edge â only to see him kiss the tips of your fingers, before pulling them into his mouth. Your lips part with a soft groan, rolling your eyes as you feel his tongue slide between them, perfectly coating them with his salvia before pulling them out and snaking your hand between your thighs. His eyes are dark â desperate, even. Needy.Â
âShow me.âÂ
His fingers slow inside you as you swallow hard, dragging your fingertips through your folds, spreading them slightly and circling your swollen clit. His eyes don't leave yours as you cover your mouth with your hand, your thighs twitching at the stimulation. You break eye contact, your body feeling hot as you let your head hit the pillow, squeezing your eyes shut as the mix of your fingers with his bring you closer to the edge.Â
âSol, IâmââÂ
He didnât let you finish your sentence, pulling his fingers out of you just as the taste of your orgasm tried to hit the back of your tongue. You let your lips part, brows furrowing as the feeling died right at his fingertips. His fingers are wet against your thigh, and he has a small smirk toying with the corner of his lip as you pout.Â
âSolâŠâ your voice is whiny as he trails his lips up your body, ghosting over your chest as you huff. âI thought you said you werenât mad at me.âÂ
âOh, Iâm not.â He shakes his head quickly, but heâs not looking at you. His hand pulls at the waistband of his sweatpants, low enough to let his leaking cock spring free. Itâs hot and heavy against your thigh, your mouth watering slightly as he looks up at you, âI could never be mad at you.âÂ
âThen whyââÂ
âBecause I can,â he interrupts, wrapping his fingers covered in your juices around himself. He brushes a kiss to your lips, âbecause I want you to ruin me all over again.âÂ
Your eyes fluttered as he rolled his hips against yours, his length dragging through your wet folds and his tip bumping your puffy clit with a hiss from his lips. Your hands fist the sheets as he speaks against your jaw, âI thought about you every single day. Just like this.âÂ
âSolââÂ
âFucked my hand thinking about you. Every night. Even the smell of your perfume made me want you, I missed you so much.â Heâs whispering, and you can hardly hear him over the blood rushing to your ears, âmissed seeing your pretty lips all swollen after sucking me off. Will you? Have I earned it?âÂ
He doesnât let you respond, his hand gently tilting your chin up to slot your lips with his before snaking down your bodies and wrapping around his cock. He guides himself through your slit, teasing the thick head against your hole as you gasp into the kiss.Â
âPleaseââÂ
âDonât beg.â He mutters against your mouth, âI wonât do anything if you beg.âÂ
âSol, pleaseââÂ
âY/N.âÂ
His tone is warning as he circles your entrance, smearing beads of precum on your slick skin before gently easing himself inside you. Your thighs close around his hips instinctively, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he slowly sheathes himself in your gummy walls â before he stops, not even halfway in as he looks you dead in the eyes.Â
âTell me you missed me." His hands hold your thighs tightly, the rings on his fingers digging into your skin. Your mouth falls open as he gives a tentative roll of his hips, but he pulls right back out before you can savor the feeling. He shakes his head with a click of his tongue, "tell me you missed me, Y/N."
"Missed you," you whisper, tears pricking at your eyes as you tilt your head up to kiss him. He lets you, slotting his lips with yours as you wrap one leg around his hip, "missed feeling you. Haven't stopped thinking about you."
The admission is enough to make him grind his cock against you, the fat head bumping your clit over and over as you slip your tongue in his mouth. The kiss is all teeth and tongue as he rocks against you, a groan falling from your throat as you taste yourself all over him and making you clench around nothing. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you roll your hips with his, only for him to pull away with a chaste kiss to your lips, still ghosting over your face as he peered at you through thick lashes.
"I love you." Your hand cups his jaw gently, his own trailing up your arm to wrap around your wrist. He kisses your palm, leaning into your touch as his eyes close, "I love you, Y/N."
You pull him down to you, brushing your lips to his, "I love you, Sol."
He nods, tapping your hip with his hand and squeezing the flesh, "turn around."
You roll your eyes, a smile trying to fight its way onto your lips as his hands slide up your hips, helping you turn onto your belly, "you never change."
"Man of habit, what can I say?" His voice is low as he presses his lips to the dip of your spine, your skin littering with goosebumps as he moves your hips flush to his. He drags his mouth up your back, his fingers caressing the skin of your sides as he moves them up to your shoulders, gently wrapping his hand around your throat with a soft squeeze, "missed you so much. Missed touching youâŠkissing you. Having you."
"I'm here." You whisper back as he presses kisses to the side of your face, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips brush your eyebrow. "Have me."
"M'not gonna last very long," he murmurs against your cheek, your hand reaching back and tugging gently at his hair. His hand snakes between you, wrapping around his cock and dragging it up your slit with a hiss. You push your hips back against him, biting down on your lip as he nudges your clit, his lips pressing kisses to the curve of your jaw, "might not last at all, actually."
"Just wanna feel you," you let him tilt your head back, brushing your lips with his as he pulls you up, your back flush to his chest as he finally bottoms out. You clench around him, his nose buried in your neck as he inhales shakily. His hand falls away from your throat, slipping down to cup your tits, squeezing gently as he gives an experimental roll of his hips. You're embarrassed at the tremble in your thighs, the sharp breath you suck in as he mumbles against your skin, "there she isâŠmissed this."
"Have itâŠuse me," you whisper back, your jaw falling slack as he starts moving his hips into you. He keeps you close as he grabs at your soft skin, kissing up the slope of your shoulder, inhaling deeply at the dip of your neck before gently pinning you to the mattress. Your fingers grip the sheets as he kisses down your spine, hiding your face in the pillows as you meet his thrusts halfway. His rings are digging into your skin as he palms at your ass, the sharp sound of the smack registering before the sting of his palm, soothed by his grip as he kisses your shoulder.
You feel yourself growing fuzzy, your limbs melting into the fabric as he sucks the sweet spot just under your ear â his cock dragging perfectly against your walls and making your skin litter with goosebumps, the pillow absorbing your whines as your skin muffles his.
"Just take it, pleaseâŠ" he breathes out, his fingertips digging into the meat of your hips as his movements grow sloppy, "it's yours. I'm yours."
"M-Mine," you mewl weakly, and he only groans as he pulls out abruptly, flipping you onto your back and slotting his lips with yours as he slides back in. Your nails dig into his back, sinking down the expanse of his shoulders as he swallows your whimpers â the kiss is all teeth and tongue as he spreads your thighs with his hands, his lips trailing down your jaw and nipping at your earlobe.
"Should've knocked you up years ago, fuck." He buries his face in your neck, mouthing at the skin there as your breathing grows shaky, your walls clenching around him. He nips at your collarbone, "need to fill you up every day. Make you mine foreverâŠyou'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Y-Yeah," your voice is full of air as your cunt squeezes around him, earning a spent laugh from his throat. His hand snakes between your bodies, thumb finding your puffy clit and making you jerk as he rubs tight circles into it, the coil in your belly threatening to snap. You let out a shuddered whimper, feeling his lips brushing the column of your throat, "missed this pussy so much, baby. So perfect for me. Made for me."
His lips are frantic, kissing every inch of skin he can reach as your breathless pants fill the room, the air smelling like sex and sweat as you wrap your legs around him. He snakes his slips into your mouth in a sloppy kiss, your thighs tight around his hips as you let go, soaking his cock in your release with a whine pouring into his mouth. He twitches inside you, mumbled reassurance as your thighs tremble, his forehead damp against your shoulder as he spills inside you.
He kisses the dip of it, stamping his lips along the column of your throat as he runs his hands up and down your thighs, squeezing softly as he meets your mouth again.
"I love you," you murmur, cupping his face in your hands as he hovers over you slightly. He nods limply, kissing you smoothly as his hands spread your thighs, holding your knees to your chest as he gives another slow roll of his hips â making you jolt with overstimulation as he lets out a weak laugh.
"Gotta make sure it takes, baby." He speaks into your mouth, kissing you chastely as your legs shake around him, "love of my life. I love you."
He mumbles something else, but it's lost as he kisses you firmly, overstimulating you both as he keeps making a mess between your thighs. You pull away, holding him away from you by the short hair, "what did you say?"
He blinks at you, raising a brow before his cheeks tinge with embarrassment. He shakes his head, trying to brush a kiss to your lips but you move away.
"Don't let me ruin this, Y/N." He sighs, closing his eyes as he presses his forehead to yours. He peels them open again, the swirl of adoration and worry circling the light amber of his irises. You give him a pointed look, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, "what did you say?"
"âŠPlease don't leave me again." He buries his face in your neck, your eyes burning as he whispers against your skin, "please, please, pleaseâŠdon't leave."
You pepper your lips to the side of his face, pulling him away from your neck to connect your lips. Tears wet your lashes as you hold him close, your hands pressing against his cheeks as you pull back.
"Don't beg," you mumble, your voice thick as tears brimmed his eyes, "you never have to beg for anything. Not from me, never again."
"I love you, Y/N."
"I love you, Sol."
YOU'RE ANXIOUSLY SCRUBBING PANS THE NEXT MORNING WITH A JOINT HELD BETWEEN YOUR LIPS.
You know he said you could come back, you know he said that you can stayâŠbut something about it makes you nervous. The way his shirt barely covers the curve of your ass but still smells like him, the way you've relit all the candles around the apartment as he sleeps soundly in your shared bedroom. His lips were pouted when you slipped out of his arms early that morning, your body sore in places it hadn't been in months. The bathroom mirror confirmed the tightness of his grip â bruises littering your hips, nips of his teeth along your ass and thighs, even a mark sucked into the dip of your hip.
You foolishly texted Soonyoung if he could drop off something to take the edge off at the apartment â and you realized you'd forgotten to tell him that you would be there. His jaw had dropped as he held out the bag of pre-rolls, expecting to see Hansol in his comfortable sweatpants glory â only to see you, in the shirt that didn't even remotely cover the black fabric of your underwear. You'd paid him in a wad of cash and closed the door before he could say anything, shooting him a text the moment you lit one of the pre-rolls to please keep his mouth shut.
The vibrations of your phone on the counter, messages from your groupchat and Seungkwan â told you that he hadn't been able to do that for very long.
You'd opened the windows, the sky still gloomy but the air fresh and cool â settling the anxiety in your stomach as you dried the last pan. He'd been right â he hadn't touched them since you left, the dust settled on them from sitting in the cabinet for so long. You fumbled around the kitchen, pulling the silver polish from the top shelf of the pantry when you felt hands on your waist. You jumped, your hand settling on your chest when you realized it was him.
"You really need to get a bell," you mutter, feeling his lips curve into a smile against the back of your neck as he takes the silver polish from your hand and tosses it somewhere on the counter. His arms wrap around you, pulling your back to his chest as he squeezes gently.
"Called Soonyoung?" His voice is raspy, the way it always is when he's just woken up. You smell mint on his breath, and you figure you must've not noticed when he started moving around in your anxious state. You nod, holding the joint out to him over your shoulder as he sways you both.
"He already ran his mouth, can't keep a secret to save his fucking life." You mutter as you feel his lips brush your fingers, wrapping around the end of your joint and pulling back. He grimaces, "is this that gross ass strain you like?"
"Everything I like is gross to you. My juice, my weed, my favorite PopTart."
"I'm not gross, and Brown Sugar Cinnamon isn't even close to being the best."
"I'm gonna ignore that, and good thing I don't like you, Sol."
"I know you think that's a compliment and sick segue to say you love me, but not liking me is embarrassing as fuck," he snorts, gingerly placing the gross thing back between your lips. "Keep that shit to yourself."
"You're so fucking annoying," you mutter, smiling despite yourself. Your skin prickles slightly as you feel his hands slide down your hips and bunch his shirt under his palms. He slips his hands under it, thumbs barely hooking on the waistband of your panties before he presses his lips just under your ear.
"You wanna polish all this shit now?"
"We didn't do it last night."
"I'd argue we did better things last nightâ"
"Get off me, you little freak." You huff, trying to wiggle out of his hold but failing miserably as he only turns you around. You tongue your cheek, tapping the joint out on an ashtray you'd fished out from under the double-decked coffee table before letting him pull you close again. "You're not getting out of doing this today, Chwe. I mean it."
"Seungkwan invited us to lunch," he murmurs, caging you between him and the counter. You raise a brow, "Seungkwan invited us?"
"You, my girlfriend, and me, your boyfriend. Me and you. Us. We," he gestures between the two of you, "are cordially invited to lunch at the Boo Seungkwan residence. Expect ridicule, badgering and half a cold pizza slice because Soonyoung is already over there and stoned out of his mind."
You stopped listening after me, your boyfriend.
"You love me, right?" You ask softly, tugging at his shirt gently. Another plain white one, but there's a red stain on the collar that belonged to you. Red lipstick that didn't come out after you washed it twice, leaving a lingering of your presence behind.
Just like the bruises that littered your hips, and the toothpaste stain on your shirt that belonged to him. Just like your initials on his cap, the locket around your neck, the windbreaker, the hoodie. His journal, the stickers from your apples stuck to the leg of your coffee table. The sample bottle of your perfume that you'd seen sitting on the bathroom counter, and every single vinyl in your collection. The gross juice in your fridge that he didn't like but you loved, the Shrek and Donkey clock, the chess setâŠand everything you are. Everything he is.
You and him.
Him and you.
Together, in everything. Lingering, cohabitating, sharingâŠ
Entangled, enamored, bounded by souls not willing to be apartâŠ
SYNOPSIS. Years after fame pulled him apart, Seungkwan finds his way back to his first love: you. Now working as a radio producer, youâre trying to move forward with your life... until he decides to break a few rules to pull you out of a bad relationship and win back your heart.
PARING. Idol!Seungkwan x Radio Producer!readerÂ
GENRE | TAGS. One-shot, childhood friends to lovers, second chance, mutual pining, slow burn-ish, fluff, comedy, smut.
WC. 30.1k+
RATING. Explicit adult content (MINORS DNI).
WARNINGS. Alcohol consumption, mentions of food, jealousy, small descriptions of a toxic/controlling relationship, explicit language, miscommunication, descriptions of ptsd, longing, miscommunication, angst, hurt/comfort, verbal conflict/argument, cheating undertones, smut, semi-public intimacy, dirty talk, dry humping, oral (f. receiving), fingering, mentions of blood and cuts.
AN. 1. First of all, Iâm officially coming out of hiatus with this hehe. 2. Vocal unit are the only ones famous in this, and Seungkwan is retiring. I also changed some things in their debut timeline, etc., so if anything seems strange, thatâs why. 3. Fun fact: Don Capri is a real restaurant in my town.
đ§SOUNDTRACK. spring into summer - lizzy mcalpine, too young - louis tomlinson, gimme - got7, crazy in love - seventeen, late night talking - harry styles, perhaps love - howl and j.ae, together - seventeen, this town - niall horan, fresh out the slammer - taylor swift, love is on the radio - mcfly.
â This fic is written for the First Time Caller collab hosted by @studiosvt! I had so much fun writing this, the theme is amazing and it really got me inspired. Please make sure to check out the other amazing fics too! đ
JUNE 2012
The air in Jeju at five in the morning had a specific smell: a mixture of saltpeter and damp earth. For you, that smell would always mean home. But for Seungkwan, from that day on, that smell would be just a memory stored in a distant compartment of his mind.
You were both sitting on the stone parapet behind Jeju-si High School. It was your spot, a blind one for the security cameras where the school wall meet the precipice overlooking the ocean. Below, the waves crashed against the rocks with rhythmic violence.
A pair of wired headphones connected the two of you, and the music playing was an acoustic demo of Last Love heâd recorded on his phone. His voice, still hoarse from sleep â because heâd woken up in the middle of the night to record it so he wouldnât forget and you could listen â filled the silence between you.
âYouâre not going to need a stage name name,â you finally said, kicking your heels against the stone, the thought occurring to you all at once. âSeungkwan is great. Itâs unique. Boo too.â
He let out a nasal laugh, the vapor of his breath condensing in the cold of the early morning, his heels mimicking the same movement as yours. Seungkwan studied your profile, not understating why you gaze was avoiding his.
âWhy does it sound like youâre going to cry when you say that?â
You shrugged, sulking internally. âIâm not.â
You did felt like crying, way more than you liked to admit. You were incredibly happy and proud of him, but you couldnât shake the fear in the pit of your stomach telling you everything was about to change. And as silly as it sounded, you were trying to hold on to that small part of who he was in that moment.
âThen are you already planning my marketing?â He bumped your elbow with his. âI havenât even stepped through the company gate yet. I could be sent back in the first month if I canât keep up with the pace of the other trainees.â
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. âDonât talk nonsense.â Below you, the waves began to decrease in intensity as the day began to rise. âI saw you rehearse that choreography until your feet bled at the harvest festival. Pledis doesnât know whatâs coming for them.â
âYou should come with me,â he says like if it were the easiest thing in the world, eyes locking with yours with a small sparkle.
You canât help but laugh at his suggestion, turning to him. The bluish light of pre-dawn sculpted his profile, and you felt a tightness in your chest that you couldnât name. It was pride, but it was also the anticipatory grief of a loss.
âAnd do what? I canât sing or dance for the life of me, Kwanie.â
âYou can be my manager.â
âIâm pretty sure they already have people for that,â you argued, like that was the only problem.
âThen youâll be my producer,â he countered instantly, his voice dropping the playful edge. He shifted his weight, turning his body entirely toward you so that the wire of the headphones tugged slightly between your ears. âItâs only eight months, tokki.â
You want to tell him heâs not coming back in eight months. That thereâs no way in hell theyâll let him go without turning him into something bigger than this island could ever hold. But instead, you take a deep breath and watch the waves below.
âEight months is a long time. Thereâs time to have had a child in that time.â
He scoffed. âA child with whom?â
âI donât know! Youngjae is cute.â You shrugged again, pouting just to annoy him before flicking his forehead lightly. âWeâre sixteen, dummy.â
Cho Youngjae.
Heâs a cool guy. Tall, looks like a baseball player or something equally appealing, even though heâs only a few years older than the two of you. Heâs always announcing that he wants to be a surgeon. Seungkwan swears he thinks heâs a good guy. The problem is that everyone at school knows he has a big fat crush on you.
And so does he.
âWhy are we suddenly talking about Cho Youngjae?â
âWellâŠâ There you were, avoiding his gaze again. âHe invited me to watch him practice and get banana milk after school the other day.â
Seungkwanâs entire posture stiffened, and even though he tried so obviously to hide it, you noticed. The rhythmic kicking of his heels against the stone parapet stopped abruptly, leaving only the sound of the crashing waves and the soft hum of his own voice through the shared earbuds.
âPractice,â he repeated, his voice flat, devoid of the melody it usually carried. âAnd banana milk. Wow. He really pulled out the big guns, didnât he?â
He looked away, staring out the horizon where a thin, pale line of orange was beginning to bleed into the indigo sky. The jealousy he felt wasnât a sharp pain; it was a dull, heavy ache, a realization that while he was moving toward a future with the possibility of bright lights and crowded stages, he was leaving a vacuum behind.
And people like Cho Youngjaeâpeople who didnât have to leave, people who could stay and buy you a snack after schoolâwere already waiting to take his place beside you.
âHeâs just being nice, Kwanie. Donât be like that,â you mumbled, though you secretly relished the way his jaw tightened.
âIâm not being like anything,â he retorted, though he finally reached up and yanked the earbud out of his ear. The silence of the morning rushed in to fill the space. âItâs just⊠you donât even like banana milk that much. You like the strawberry one.â
âItâs the thought that counts,â you countered, crossing your arms over your chest to shield yourself from the dawn chill.
You didnât even know Seungkwan cared that much about strawberry milk or banana milk.
He turned back to you, and the playfulness was gone. He wanted to tell you not to go with Youngjae. He wanted to ask you to wait the eight months. Or ten. However long it took for him to get settled. He wanted to promise he would call you every night. That heâd send you the demos of every song he learned. That you shouldnât let some high school baseball player wannabe make you forget about him.
But that wouldnât be fair to you.
So instead, Seungkwan exhaled deeply and softened his expression as he sat back down beside you, slipping his side of the earbud back in.
âAnd you?â he asked, changing the subject, as he always did when the conversation was about to get too serious. âAre you going to keep hiding your talent for communication behind the inn counter?â
You sighed, glancing towards the horizon, where the orange line was growing bigger.
âMy mother needs me here, you know.â You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the sturdy warmth of him through his jacket. âSince my father passed away, the inn is all we have.â
âButââ
âItâs fine, Kwan,â you breathed, watching the sun finally break over the water. âThe women around here donât retire, they just merge with their work.â You shrugged. âPlus, someone has to carry the sheets and check in the tourists who think the island is an amusement park.â
There was a melancholy in the way you spoke, even though you tried to be humorous about it, and Seungkwan noticed.
âItâs temporary, tokki,â he said, resting his head against yours. âSomeday youâre going to be the voice everyone hears on their way to work. Iâll be in the back of a black van on the way to some show, and Iâll turn on the radio, and Iâll hear your voice.â
You smiled, but the smile didnât reach your eyes. The idea seemed like a perfect fairy tale. A few years back, you would have believed it wholeheartedly. Now, you knew that the distance between Jeju Island and stardom in Seoul was greater than a few kilometers of ocean; it was an abyss of social classes, restrictive contracts, and a lot sleep deprivation.
âJustâŠâ you said suddenly, voice lost its lightness. âPromise me.â
Seungkwan leaned closer, the headphone cord stretching between you. âPromise what?â
âPromise you wonât abandon me.â He looked rather confused, opening his mouth to argue that he wouldnât, but you didnât let him finish. âNot physically, I know you have to go. But donât let whatever is waiting for you there⊠change you.â
âTokkiâŠâ
âDonât let them turn you into a product I canât recognize. I want that, ten years from now, if we meet again, I can still see the boy who used to steal tangerines from the neighborâs orchard with me.â
He held your hand. His skin was warm against yours, which was frozen by the wind. âI could never forget you, even if I tried. You are my anchor, tokki. Seoul can give me the world, but Jeju is where my heart is.â
Even if that were true, the two of you couldnât help but laugh when Seungkwan fell silent.
âYouâre so dramatic, Boo,â you breathed, watching the sun finally break over the water. âPledis really is going to love you.â
Silence returned, but now it was different, the sun finally breaking through the seaâs edge and bathing the volcanic rock in gold. It was your signal: Seungkwan will be leaving for the airport in less than three hours.
âItâs time,â you murmured, though you wished you could freeze time. âYour mother must be finishing her coffee. Sheâll be furious if you leave on an empty stomach.â
You stood, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along toward the low houses of the neighborhood, your hands brushing against each other but never truly intertwining due the silent fear that the contact would be too painful to break afterward.
âAre you really sure about this?â you asked, voice faltering slightly. You kicked a small stone, eyes fixed on your own feet. âSeoul is⊠far. Like, really far. Itâs not like going to the airport. Itâs another world.â
Seungkwan looked out at the sea in the distance. In Jeju, the horizon seemed like the end of everything. In Seoul, he heard the horizon was made of skyscrapers.
He takes a deep breath. âYeah, Iâm pretty sure.â
âOkay.â
As you reached his door, the smell of seaweed soup and grilled fish wafted through the cracks. It was his last breakfast as a nobody. Before entering, you paused under the stone portico. You held his shoulders, forcing him to look at you one last time without the distractions of the adult life that awaited you.
âListen carefully,â you began, voice firm despite the urge to cry. âDonât look back when you get on that plane, okay?â
âWhatââ
You covered his mouth with both hands. âJust⊠let me finish, please.â He nodded, looking between your hands over his mouth and your eyes. âJeju will be here. Iâll be here. But these⊠these are your dreams now. Theyâre no longer our childhood plans, theyâre your reality. Go and conquer everything you said you would.â
Seungkwan pulled you into a quick, tight hug. It was the kind of hug meant to hold on to the other personâs scent for long days.
âIâll go,â he whispered against your hair. âI swear I will.â
You watched him go inside, his silhouette swallowed by the warm light of the kitchen where his family awaited him. You stood there for a minute, alone in the morning chill, knowing that from that moment on, your lives would never be the same.
Then you walked toward your motherâs inn, the battery-powered radio in your pocket weighing like lead. You had a shift to work, sheets to change, and an ordinary life to lead, while he was about to become a constellation.
PRESENT
Studio B at the Jeju City Broadcasting was roughly the size of a walk-in closetâpractically a shoeboxâand smelled distinctly of stale iced americano, sea salt drifting in from the open window down the hall, and Seungkwanâs ridiculously expensive cedarwood cologne, which had seeped into the walls over the months.
It was a chaotic, cramped little ecosystem, and for the last fifteen years, it had been youâre entire world.
âYouâre tapping your pen again,â Seungkwan murmurs, not even looking up from his phone as he lounges in the squeaky hostâs chair.
You immediately freeze your hand over the mixing console. âI am not tapping. I am keeping time.â
âYouâre tapping,â he insists, casually reaching across the desk to steal the iced Americano you had bought for yourself and yourself only. âAnd it means youâre stressed about the timing of the transition for the second segment.â
You snatch the coffee back, glaring at him as condensation drips onto your meticulously highlighted run-of-show. You sigh. âIâm stressed because you went off-script yesterday and we had thirty seconds of dead air while you monologued about the emotional depth of a drama you watched in 2018. If youââ
ââmiss the cue, Chief will throw a fit,â he finishes, waving a hand dismissively. âI know, I know.â He finally puts his phone down and shoots you a blinding, practiced smile that practically sparkles under the fluorescent studio lights. âRelax, tokki. Youâre working with a professional.â
You roll your eyes so hard they actually ache. You hate that damn nickname he gave you when you were eight years old and your front teeth refused to grow no matter how long you waited and wished for them to, giving him endless fuel to tease you until you finally threatened to beat him to death.
After so many years apart, you would have expected Seungkwan to forget that damn nickname. Especially now that you were both already in your thirties. But no. Quite the opposite, actually.
Your phone buzzes against the console, vibrating so violently it nearly rattles off the edge. You donât have to look at the screen to know who it is, and the familiar knot of dread tightens instantly in your stomach.
[Youngjae - 8:14 PM]: Are you seriously working late again? You told me youâd be done by 6.
You sigh, picking up the device. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, already drafting an apology you didnât actually owe him.
You didnât use to work late until six months ago, when Seungkwan arrived and the Chief reassigned you from the Non-stop Nostalgia show to the late-night slot. The workload had doubled now that his co-host had given birth three weeks earlier than expected and you were filling in for her because, of course, you didnât find a replacement for her sooner.
[You - 8:15 PM]: Iâm sorry, babe. The 9:00 PM live slot is still a mess. They still havenât found anyone to replace Yoona and weâre scrambling. I might not be out until 11.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
[Youngjae - 8:17 PM]: Whatever. You always put that stupid station first.
[Youngjae - 8:17 PM]: I donât even know why I bother making plans with you. You need to figure out your priorities.
You lock the screen and set the phone face down. A heavy, exhausting silence settles over you, and you can feel Seungkwanâs eyes on you, studying you, even though he doesnât ask anything.
You trace the edge of the promise ring Youngjae had given you six months ago; a silver band that felt more like a shackle than a symbol of affection. You are constantly walking on eggshells, constantly apologizing for having a career, constantly trying to shrink yourself to fit into the ânormal, peaceful lifeâ you thought you wanted.
Why were you with him? That was a question you didnât like to ask yourself.
âHey. Earth to PD-nim.â
You jolt, snapping your head up to see Chan, the junior writer, waving a hand in front of your face. âSorry,â you blink, shaking off the lingering guilt. âWhat is it? Did we secure a backup for tonight?â
Chanâs eyes were wide, a mix of sheer panic and starry-eyed excitement. âChief Kang is calling for an emergency meeting in the briefing room. Right now. And yes, we secured a backup. Apparently, he pulled off an absolute miracle.â
You push yourself out of your old squeaky chair, grabbing your clipboard and glancing in Seungkwanâs direction, who, for some reason, avoids your gaze.
âA miracle? Who did they get with three hoursâ notice?â
âJust get in there,â Chan urges, practically shoving you toward the door and following right behind you.
The small briefing room was buzzing with frantic energy when you walked in. Chief Choi Seungcheolâa notoriously stressed, soft man who practically lives on black coffee âis pacing in the front of the room like he was trying to outrun whatever news he was about to deliver.
The small radio station belonged to his grandparents, and since you were hired after returning from university, youâd seen the ups and downs heâd faced trying to keep this little corner of Jeju running over the years as radio slowly faded for the younger generation. It had basically been on life support, kept alive mostly by the islandâs elderly listeners⊠well, until Seungkwan arrived and the audience grew exponentially.
As soon as you take your seat, Seungcheol slams his hands down on the table.
âAlright, listen up,â he barks, though thereâs a triumphant gleam in his eye. âWeâre not going to hire someone to replace Yoona.â
Your eyebrows arch in shock as you set your clipboard down on the table. âWhat? But Seungkwan needs a co-host now!â
Heâs smiling almost maniacally at you now. âYes! And weâre giving him one.â
The sound of the door opening and closing catches your attention, and when you look back, Seungkwan is standing there, his lips wrapped around the straw of your coffee as he stares at you with a mischievous glint in his deliberately wide eyes.
You look between Seungkwan and Seungcheol, taking exactly the amount of time it takes for a breath to pass before realizing whatâs going on.
âOkay, no!â you say, immediately getting up from your chair to walk out of the room, but Seungkwan quickly steps toward you and places his hands on your shoulders.
âThe listeners want this,â he argues. You grimace, pulling away from him as the condensation from his iced coffee brushes against your skin before sitting back down. âYesterday Gyeonghee halmoni stopped me on the street just to tell me you should be the permanent co-host.â
Gyeonghee halmoni was the oldest woman in your neighborhood, and you knew she listened to the radio religiously, always insisting she was never too old to take love advice. You knew she was a particular fan of the Time Capsule of Love segment, where you only played very old love songs, mostly because she called almost every night to make a request.
It was at her eighty-ninth birthday party that you and Seungkwan reconnected six months ago.
âGyeonghee halmoni is biased,â you say, shaking your head. âShe watched us grow up.â
Seungkwan doesnât just sit; he sprawls into the chair next to you, leaning in until the scent of that expensive cedarwood is all you can process.
âMy mother said the same thing too,â Chan says from the corner of the room where heâs squeezed in, raising his hand slightly as if he were in a classroom.
âThe ratings for the âPD-nim interjectionsâ are higher than the guest segments, and you know it,â Seungkwan adds, his voice dropping into that smooth, persuasive register he usually saves for the microphone. You liked to think you were immune to it.
âI am a producer,â you hiss, ignoring the way Seungcheol is nodding along like Seungkwan is delivering a sermon. âI stay behind the glass. I donât talk into microphones. I manage the chaos you create, Boo Seungkwan. I donât join it!â
Especially considering the programâs content: relationship advice and dating reality shows. What did you know about relationships? Nothing. Your own relationship was proof of that. Seungkwan, on the other hand, apparently knew a lot, which was exactly why he was perfect for the job.
You blamed only yourself for being in this situation, for not looking for a replacement for Yoona sooner, for leaving everything to the last minute. Now you were stuck in this position.
âBut thatâs exactly why it works!â Seungcheol interjects, pacing across the small rug in the center of the room. âYour chemistry, the bickering. Itâs nostalgic.â Seungkwan is now the one nodding alone to the nonsense. âItâs Jejuâs childhood friends story, only now youâre both working together. Itâs a goldmine. The sponsors are already asking about the girl who rage baites Seungkwan.â
âThe girl has a name,â you mutter, rubbing your temples. âAnd she has a boyfriend who is currently one text away from a total meltdown if she gets home any later.â
At the indirect mention of Youngjae, Seungkwanâs expression shifts. The mischievous glint doesnât disappear, but now he also looks noticeably annoyed. You know his opinion of Youngjae inside and out. It isnât news to you now, just like it wasnât news when you were teenagers.
He glances at your phone, still gripped in your hand, and then back at your face. He sees the fatigue you try to hide behind your professional mask and the way your shoulders are slumped not from work, but from the weight of the apology youâre still drafting in your head for later.
âThink about it, Y/N,â Seungcheol insists, looking at you expectantly. âThis could double our listeners.â
The room goes quiet as you close your eyes and bury your face in your hands to avoid the three pairs of eyes fixed on you, waiting for you to change your mind. Even Chan looks like heâs about to faint from the drama of it all.
Your phone buzzes again.
[Youngjae - 8:27 PM]: Donât expect me to wait up. Youâre being selfish.
The ring around your finger feels particularly heavy now. You look at Seungkwan. Heâs annoying, heâs loud, and heâs currently trying to change your career for God knows what reason. But heâs also the only person in this city who looks at you like youâre the lead character in your own life rather than a supporting role in someone elseâs.
You narrow your eyes. âThis was your idea.â Itâs not a question, itâs an affirmation. Itâs clear on his face, because unlike what he tries to convey, Boo Seungkwan is an open book.
He raises his hands to shoulder height in a guilty gesture, but he doesnât look guilty at all. âYouâre perfect for the job, tokki.â
You let out a grunt, throwing your head back. Fucking Boo Seungkwan. Fucking soft spot you still have for him despite everything, especially when he gives you that Boo-Poor-Little-Seungkwan look.
âOne week,â you say, after a long sigh, pointing a finger at his chest. âA trial run. If the listeners hate it or if you go off-script about a drama for more than ten seconds, Iâm going back behind the glass and youâre finding a new co-host yourself.â
Youâre staring at each other, but out of the corner of your eye you can see Seungcheol and Chan celebrating while exchanging a high-five. Seungkwanâs grin is blinding, wide, triumphant, and fucking annoying. He reaches out, not to shake your hand, but to give your ponytail a playful tug, just like he used to when you were ten.
âOne week is all I need,â he says, and for a split second, the way he looks at you makes the small, cramped briefing room feel like itâs spinning at a different frequency. âTrust me, PD-nim. Weâre going to give them a show theyâll never forget.â
6 MONTHS AGO
The neighborhood recreation center was loud, sweltering, and smelled intensely of freshly fried pajeon. Gyeonghee halmoniâs 89th birthday had essentially become a town festival, and you were already thirty minutes late.
Dodging wandering toddlers and plates of tteokbokki, you immediately spotted the one thing you were dreading: your mother. She was standing by the gift table, deep in conversation with Mrs. Boo.
They were huddled close together, holding paper cups of sweet rice punch, radiating the kind of synchronized, terrifying energy only two mothers who have known each other for over twenty years can possess. You tried to stealthily make you way toward the food buffet first, but your motherâs radar was unparalleled.
âLook who finally decided to show up,â your mother announced loudly, abandoning her hushed conversation to fix you with a pointed glare.
âHi, mom,â you pratically dragged the word out of you. âHello, Mrs. Boo,â you greeted, bowing respectfully to Seungkwanâs mother. âIâm sorry Iâm late, the afternoon broadcast ran long and traffic was terrible near theââ
âAigoo, look at you!â Mrs. Boo interrupted, entirely ignoring your excuse as she reached out to pat your arm affectionately. Her eyes crinkled in a warm smile. âYou get prettier every time I see you. Are you eating well, sweetheart? You look a little thin.â
âPrettier?â you mother scoffed, though she was secretly pleased. She waved a hand dismissively. âShe looks like she hasnât in a week. All she does is work at that radio station. I tell her she needs to get out, make new friends, but does she listen to me?â
âMom, please,â you hissed under your breath, feeling your cheeks heat up. âNot here.â
You knew this conversation by heart, but that didnât mean Mrs. Boo needed to hear it too.
âAh, let her be, sheâs building a career!â Mrs. Boo laughed, though there was a sudden, distinct twinkle in her eye. She leaned in a fraction closer, lowering her voice as if sharing a state secret. âYou know... our Seungkwanie is here.â
Your stomach did a strange flip at the mention of his name. âOh. Really? I thought he was still in Seoul.â
You knew he was back; heâd been the talk of the neighborhood all week. Youâd just chosen to ignore the fact, and forget that you could run into him anywhere now, that it was only a matter of time until you did.
âHe came back last week. Taking a break,â Mrs. Boo beamed, her pride evident. But then she share a very deliberate, conspiratorial look with your mother. âHe was just asking about you the other day, actually. Wondering how his favorite childhood friend was doing.â
Funny, considering he never even bothered to call in the last twelve years, you thought, still holding a polite smile on your face.
Your motherâs eyes lit up with a terrifying gleam. She immediately reached out, grabbing your shoulders and physically turning you away from the buffet table and toward the back of the hall.
âGo say hi,â your mother ordered, giving you a firm push.
âMom, I literally just walked in. Let me get a plate of food first, I havenât eaten sinceââ
âThe japchae isnât going anywhere,â she interrupted, adjusting the collar of your shirt with quick, fussy movements. âHe just got here too. Heâs standing right over there by the punch bowl looking lonely. Go talk to him.â
âYes, go catch up!â Mrs. Boo chimed in, shooing you with her hand. âTell him his mother said to get you a drink.â
Seeing them together like that felt like a childhood flashback; like being forced to stay close to Seungkwan or made to do things with him all over again just because they wanted too. Like being forced to dance together at school events, or serving as ring bearers for the newlywed couple who lived three houses down.
Realizing you had absolutely no way out of this trap, you sighed, offering them both a tight, resigned smile. âFine. Iâm going.â
âStand up straight!â your mother called out after you in a loud whisper.
You rolled your eyes, smoothing down your outfit as you navigated through the sea of relatives and neighbors until you finally spotted him.
He was standing by the punch bowl, looking both ridiculously handsome and slightly out of place in a crisp, white button-down. Even without the stage makeup and the flash of cameras, Boo Seungkwan had an undeniable glowing aura.
You took a deep breath, trying to push down the sudden spike of nerves caused by the realization that the moment youâd pictured in your head thousands of times was actually happening. Then, quietly, you sidled up beside him.
âExcuse me, sunbaenim,â you said, leaning in just enough to mock a polite bow. âCan I get your autograph?â
Seungkwan turned, a polite, probably practiced smile already forming on his lips, until his eyes met yours for the first time in nearly fifteen years. Then he completely froze.
The plastic cup in his hand halted halfway to his mouth. His eyes went wide, sweeping over your face, your hair, the way you stood there looking at him. You immediately started talking, rattling off a quick string of teasing remarks. He could see your mouth moving, but he wasnât hearing a single word, almost like he was underwater.
Seungkwan was entirely captivated, his brain short-circuiting as the intoxicating, familiar scent of your perfume hit him. It was scent that instantly bypassed the last twelve years of his life, striking a match directly to the teenage hormones and memories heâd buried long ago.
You stopped talking, waving a hand in front of his face. âHello? Earth to Sungkwan?â
He blinked rapidly, practically shaking himself out of the stupor. âYou⊠wow. Hi. You look⊠you look really good.â
You gasped dramatically, clutching your chest. âOh my God, Boo Seungkwan said I look good. Iâm going to write a fanfic about it.â
You could see the moment the shock wore off, instantly replaced by the familiar, comfortable irritation he always fell into when you teased him all those years ago.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. âPlease. I bet youâve already written several where we end up in love.â
You clicked your tongue as your shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug. âActually, I think your friend Jeonghan is cuter.â You smiled broadly, watching his jaw drop and his eyes widen again. âHeâs so handsome. Is he single?â
You emphasize the word deliberately, watching his face contort as he processes it. But all he says is:
âYou think what?â Seungkwan choked out, his competitive streak flaring up in a millisecond. Or at least that was what you thought. Inside, Seungkwan felt a possessive pull toward you that he hadnât felt in a very long time.
You tried to bite your lip to hold back your laughter, but you simply couldnât, bursting out laughing as you stepped just a fraction closer to him to let two little boys run past you toward the playground.
âYouâre still so easy to mess with, Boo.â
His face morphed into an outraged expression, though you could see a smile forming at the corner of his mouth. âAnd youâre still crazy, I see.â
âHe is, indeed, handsome, they all are.â You paused, clearly enjoying his reaction. Your voice dipped playfully as you tapped your chest in a steady rhythm. â...but my heart still beats for Boo Seungkwan. Boo Seungkwan.â You laughed, eyes crinkling. âOld flame, you know. Right?â
If only you knew.
Seungkwan stared at you, his ears turning a violent shade of red. He tried to scowl, to muster up some kind of witty retort, but the sheer relief and joy of realizing you hadnât changed at all completely overwhelmed him. He let out a breathless, defeated chuckle, running a hand through his hair before dragging the tips of his fingers down his neck.
âYouâre terrible,â he muttered, though his eyes were painfully fond. âA decade without seeing you, and within two minutes youâre already giving me a headache.â
âItâs a gift, really,â you replied, finally grabbing a cup of punch for yourself.
The silence was slightly awkward â but only because itâs been twelve years of radio silence â, not uncomfortable, though. In fact, you had a million questions that could fill it, but since starting with Why havenât you contacted me in twelve years, you stuck-up idiot? was probably a terrible opener, you settled for something lighter.
âSo. Youâre really back, huh?â You raised an eyebrow, lifting the glass to your lips mostly to keep yourself from saying anything out of spike. âThe neighborhood aunties have been gossiping all week. They said youâre officially retired from the idol life.â
âTaking a very long, very permanent hiatus,â he corrected with a dismissive hand, leaning against the table so he could fully face you. âI needed a break from Seoul. Plus I heard my favorite childhood friend was running the local radio station now.â
You quickly built your defenses back up, raising a skeptical eyebrow. Favorite feels ironic, again. Youâre almost certain it doesnât fit what happened between you two over the past years; if anything, it feels like the opposite.
âNot running it. Producing.â It was your turn to correct him. âThe afternoon slot. Itâs chaotic, and I practically live in the editing booth. But I love it.â
Seungkwan watched your face light up as you talked about the station. The way your eyes sparkedâthe genuine passion in your voiceâwas entirely real. It was the same look you used to get when you figured out a particularly difficult math problem in high school, or when you finally beat him in a volleyball match.
âProducing,â Seungkwan repeated softly, testing the word on his tongue. A small, genuine smile broke through his initial shock. âIâll be honest. Iâve tuned in a few times since I got back.â
You nearly choked on your rice punch. You lowered the paper cup, staring at him suspiciously. âYou did? You listened to my show?â
âOf course I did,â he said, shifting his weight. He looked down at his shoes for a split second before meeting your eyes again, his gaze suddenly much heavier. âI wanted to hear your voice.â
The casual confession hit you right in the chest, entirely unbalancing you. This was the danger of Boo Seungkwan. He could flip the switch from annoying childhood best friend who hadnât spoken to you in twelve years to a devastatingly sincere, loving man without even trying.
Holding a grudge against someone like that isnât easy.
âI always knew youâd end up bossing people around for a living,â Seungkwan laughed, the sound warm and effortlessly familiar. One smile, and suddenly the years between you donât feel so large anymore. You hate that most of all.
âSomeone has to keep things in line,â you countered, taking the last sip of your punch. You looked up at him, letting the teasing persona slip away for just a moment, offering him a sincere smile. âBut really... itâs good to see you, Boo. Iâm glad youâre back.â
And you meant it with all your heart, far more than youâd ever imagined.
Seungkwanâs eyes softened, a profound sense of relief washing over his features. He had been so nervous about how you would react to seeing him after so much time had passed, but standing here, falling right back into your easy, comfortable rhythm, he felt an anchor drop.
âIt really has,â he agreed, his voice dropping into a more earnest tone. He glanced around the chaotic recreation center, at the aunties dancing and the kids running around, before his gaze settled back on you. âI missed this. And,â he paused, a fond smile pulling at his lips, âI missed you.â
The words sat on the tip of your tongue, but you werenât going to ruin this moment by saying them.
You bumped your shoulder playfully against his arm. âDonât get soft on me now, sunbaenim. You have a reputation to uphold.â
âIâd prefer it if you just called me oppa,â he said playfully, bumping his shoulder against yours in return.
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Back then, it had always been a running joke between the two of you. âApparently not all your dreams came true.â
Before he could formulate a comeback, a loud voice shattered your comfortable bubble.
âLook at them! Didnât I tell you?â your mother crowed, suddenly appearing at Seungkwanâs elbow with Mrs. Boo right behind her. Both women looked like cats who had just cornered a very plump canary.âLike no time has passed at all!â
You immediately stood up straighter, shooting a panicked look at Seungkwan. âMom, please. Weâre just catching up.â
âWell, keep catching up!â Mrs. Boo cheered, clapping her hands together. âSeungkwanie, why donât you get Y/N a plate of food? The poor girl is starving, her mother said she practically lives at that radio station.â
Seungkwan cleared his throat, stepping back into his polite and respectful persona with practiced ease, though he threw a quick amused glance your way. âOf course, Eomma. Iâll take good care of her.â
As the two mothers linked arms and walked away, practically vibrating with matchmaking glee, Seungkwan turned back to you, the smirk firmly back in place.
You let him lead you toward the food, shaking your head even as a smile spread so wide across your face that your cheeks began to ache. In just a few minutes, you realized how effortlessly he could slip back into your life. Boo Seungkwan was home, and suddenly, everything felt a whole lot brighter.
PRESENT
They were right. The number of listeners had increased exponentially in less than a week, and although you hated to admit it, Seungkwan was right. You were happy with what your presence as co-host was doing for the station, more than happy, actually. Even on the street, people stopped you to say how much they loved the show, how they tuned in every night.
Everyone at the station was celebrating the results, and it felt as though everything had come back to life. Besides, you couldnât deny it: the show really was that good.
Pulled out of your daydream by the sound of someone lazily tapping on the glass, you see the only other person you trust in your control booth: Hansol. He point his indicator at both of you and flashes up three fingers. Thirty seconds to air.
You nod, keeping your eyes locked on the console. The ON AIR sign bleeds neon red across the studio glass, emitting a low, sixty-cycle hum. You push the faders up, and the bright, tropical synth-pop intro of your show, Love Is on the Radio, fills the booth. You slide Seungkwanâs mic fader up first, then bring yours up a second later.
Instantly, the annoying best friend vanishes out of him. His posture straightens, his chin tilts to the perfect angle for a camera that isnât even there, and he leans into the microphone.
Seungkwan is usually a very confident man, but watching him in his element always feels like seeing a whole new side of the boy you once knew, or the man you found six months ago in his childhood bedroom at his motherâs house, quietly moping and counting the petals on her hydrangeas because he was bored out of his mind.
âI was meditating, not moping,â he defended himself when you brought the subject up two weeks ago, a hand placed over his heart, looking personally wounded.
You were the one who suggested to Seungcheol that he could offer Seungkwan the position after you ran into him at the party. So now, because of your brilliant idea, if the people of Jeju donât buy into Seungkwanâs ârevolutionary ideasâ about love and romance, your reputation is going down the drain right along with his.
âGood evening, Jeju! Youâre back with your favorite duo,â you say, leaning into your mic with a practiced, bright energy, settling into your radio voice. âIâm your temporary host, Kang Y/N, and sitting across from me is the man who spent forty-five minutes this morning debating whether or not heâs a Taejoon or a Jungwoo: itâs Boo Seungkwan.â
Seungkwan let out a soulful chuckle that rumbles smoothly through your headphones. âListen, the new season of Singleâs Inferno is a sociological study! Itâs about the raw human condition! Hello everyone, Iâm Seungkwan. And for the record? Iâm definitely a Taejoon. Iâm loyal, Iâm funny, and I look great in a vest.â
When Seungkwan speaks, his voice drops an octave, dripping with the velvety, honeyed charisma that had made him the nationâs beloved vocalist for more than a decade. By now, youâre trained to ignore the things it does to you.
âYouâre a Eunseo at best, dramatic and prone to crying in the back of a van,â you retort, checking the monitor. âBut we arenât here to talk about your identity crisis, my friend. Weâre here to talk about the Paradise dates. Kwan, as our resident romance expert, what did you think of the bonfire confession?â
You already knew what Seungkwan thought about them, considering the two of you had watched the episodes together on your couch the night before. Your mom and grandmother had spent the entire evening pampering him so much that, at one point, you found yourself wondering whether he was the real member of the family and not you.
âIt was amateur hour, Y/N. If youâre going to confess your feelings, you need atmosphere. You need a build-up. You canât just blurt it out between bites of grilled sea bream!â
You both move like a well-oiled machine. For the first fifteen minutes, itâs a masterclass in broadcasting. The two of you debate the new episodes of the latest season of Singleâs Inferno, practically disagreeing with everything the other says for no reason at all, just for the fun of arguing and rage-baiting each other.
âSpoken like a man who has watched exactly three hundred dramas and participated in zero actual dates,â you tease after he describes how perfect one of the dates in Paradise was.
Not that you knew anything about Seungkwanâs love life, considering the two of you hadnât reached that topic of conversation yet, even if you had already spilled your heart out to him during one drunken night.
Honestly, the less you knew, the better.
âI am a scholar of the heart!â he defends, a hand over his heart, even if youâre the only one who can see him. âAnyway, before we get to our first caller of the night, itâs time for my favorite part of the show. Letâs open our Time Capsule of Love.â
You hit the transition, a nostalgic, grainy vinyl crackle. âTonightâs request comes from a listener in Aewol who wants to remember their first summer love,â you announce. âHereâs Perhaps Love by HowL & J.ae.â
As the classic track starts playing, you slide the faders down.
âWeâre clear for, like, three minutes,â you mutter, stretching your arms as you stand to refill your water bottle and grab a cookie from the box Chan had left earlier, sometime before the show started.
Seungkwan also stretches back in his creaky old chair. You can feel his eyes following you around the room, tracking your movements, and it doesnât take much to realize he has something sitting right on the tip of his tongue to comment on or ask you.
It was funny how inseparable the two of you had become since reuniting, how effortlessly youâd slipped back into your old rhythm. How well you still knew him and all his mannerisms, like the back of your hand. But there was still one massive elephant in the room: neither of you had said a word about those twelve years of silence.
You wouldnât say you were exactly okay with it, but at the same time, you were terrified of bringing it up and ruining everything the two of you had rebuilt over the past six months. You could only hope it wouldnât all come crashing down around you somewhere in the future.
You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms, the water sloshing softly inside the bottle as the music continues to play. âWhat?â
âAre you going to Youngjaeâs place after this?â Seungkwan asks, trying to sound nonchalant as he pretended to examine his fingernails.
âDonât know yet. Why?â
Seungkwan spins his squeaky chair a half-inch to the left, leaning his elbows on his knees. The playful, broadcast-ready smile he wore just a minute ago completely dissolves, replaced by a tight, familiar, almost sulky frown.
âJust wondering if youâre parking in his driveway tonight,â Seungkwan says, his tone dangerously passive, âor if youâre still relegated to the visitorâs spot three blocks down so his neighbors donât start asking questions about the mystery woman sneaking in after dark.â
You almost choke on your piece of cookie. You swallow hard, shooting a panicked glare through the glass to make sure Hansol isnât paying attention to the booth or your conversation, only to find him lost in his own world as always.
âKeep your voice down, tattletale,â you hiss, tossing the rest of the cookie onto a napkin and sitting back down in your chair. âAnd for your information, he has a very strict building policy. Itâs not about me or our relationship. Itâs about his privacy.â
Thatâs a lie, but you wonât give Seungkwan the satisfaction of being right. And he seems to know it, a scoff slipping past his lips.
âRight.â He drags the word out. âThe notorious anti-girlfriend bylaws of Jeju real estate,â
âKwan, donât startââ
Seungkwan reaches out, tapping the edge of your console. âAre you listening to yourself, Y/N?Privacy is keeping your relationship off Instagram. What heâs doing is hiding you.â
You were past that stage. Past thinking too much about it. Past pretending you didnât know that Youngjae was hiding your relationship from his friends, family, and even his neighbors. You knew he was. And it was complicated. Or at least, thatâs what heâd been telling you ever since you rekindled your relationship a year ago.
Seungkwan, unlike you, had called it what it was the moment you told him you were back with Youngjae, but that only a small number of people knew. At the time, you thought it was just because Seungkwan hadnât liked him back in your school days. Now, you were starting to have doubts about⊠well, everything.
But you wouldnât discuss that here, much less in the middle of a broadcast with Perhaps Love playing as the soundtrack to this conversation.
âWe have an arrangement that works for us. Heâs a private person, Seungkwan. Not everyone wants their life broadcasted to the masses like you do.â
Itâs a low blow, and you know it the second the words leave your mouth. Seungkwan flinches, just barely, but his dark eyes stay locked onto yours. The air in the tiny studio suddenly feels impossibly thick.
You close your eyes, dragging a hand down your face.
It comes and goes. The resentment you feel toward him for never calling or reaching out, for never answering your letters or your calls. It comes and goes.
âI didnât meant to.â
You see Seungkwan swallow, his lips pouting slightly like heâs choosing his next words.
âI spent ten years hiding every single aspect of my life to survive in the industry, tokki.â His voice drops into a quiet, raw register that makes your chest ache. Itâs worse because he calls you that. âSo I know exactly what it looks like when someone treats you like a liability instead of a partner.â
âWhy do you even care?â you snap, crossing your arms defensively to hide the way your hands are shaking. You really, really want to know why. âYouâre my friend, Boo. Not my life coach.â
âI care because itâs pathetic watching you settle for him!â he fires back, leaning closer until his face is just inches from the mic stand. âYou sit here every night, teasing me about my expertise on romance, but at least I know how to treat a girl.â
You open your mouth to argue, but the words die in your throat. Heâs looking at you with that same fierce, frustrated intensity he had behind the school, in your spot, all those years ago, when Youngjae invited you out for banana milk. And it makes something strange shift inside your chest.
It has been happening a lot ever since Seungkwan came back into your life.
When you look away to avoid meeting his eyes, the digital clock on the monitor catches your attention. 0:15 seconds until the song ends.
âIâm not having this conversation with you right now,â you whisper, your voice trembling as you reach for the faders.
Seungkwan lets out a quiet, nasal laugh that makes it clear he expected you to avoid the subject. You hate that he still knows you so wellâjust as well as you know himâand you hate even more how easily the two of you slip back into old habits.
âYouâre going to have to eventually,â he grumbles, leaning back into his chair as he adjusts his headphones. The hard edge in his eyes softens into something that looks dangerously like pity, and you hate that even more. âBecause if he doesnât figure out how to treat you right, someone else will.â
You want to ask him what he means by that, but there isnât enough time.
0:03 seconds.
Hansol pops up behind the glass again, pointing a finger again. You take a shaky breath, give him a thumbs-up, and force the lump in your throat down as you slide the faders up and put your headphones back on.
4 MONTHS AGO
It had barely been a month since Seungkwan had reentered your life like a localized hurricane, and the boundaries of your resurrected friendship were still painfully blurry. You had survived the initial shock of his return, the awkwardness of not speaking for so long, and the surreal reality of seeing a former national idol casually drinking cheap instant coffee in the stationâs break room.
That night, however, was the first time the two of you had gotten drunk together.
You were both sitting in a small, slightly dingy pojangmacha tucked away in a narrow alley behind the station. Inside, the air smelled of fried pork belly and spicy rice cakes, cut through by the almost clinical smell of spilled soju. Rain lashed relentlessly against the thick orange plastic tarps surrounding the tent, the sound creating a surprisingly cozy bubble that shut out the rest of the city.
âWatch and learn,â Seungkwan slurred slightly, holding up a fresh, condensation slicked green bottle of soju. He grabbed a stainless steel chopstick from the tin cup on the table.
âOne of your many new talents?â
He nodded, a smirk tugging at his lips. âThey didnât teach me this in idol training. I had to learn this in the trenches of company dinners.â
With a flick of his wrist that was entirely too aggressive, he brought the chopstick up against the cap of the bottle. Instead of cleanly popping off, the cap flew violently into the air, ricocheting off the plastic tent wall and landing squarely in your bowl of complimentary radish soup.
You stared down at the floating metal cap, and then slowly raised your eyes to look at him.
Seungkwan froze, his hand still suspended in the air, a sheepish, incredibly boyish grin spreading across his flushed face. âTa-da?â
âYouâre paying for my next bowl of soup, Kwan,â you deadpanned, though you couldnât fight the laugh that bubbled up in your chest. You fished the cap out with your spoon and flicked it at him. âAnd youâre a menace to society. Itâs a miracle you survived Seoul.â
âSeoul was easy,â Seungkwan retorted, pouring the soju into two tiny glass cups, his coordination slightly compromised by the three bottles already sitting empty at the edge of the plastic table. âJeju is the real battlefield.â
You laughed, arching an eyebrow. âAnd why is that?â
âYesterday, an auntie at the market smacked me with a leek because I couldnât remember her dogâs name,â he said with a laugh.
âTo be fair, Dooboo is a local legend. You disrespected an icon,â you pointed out, picking up your glass. âCheers to Dooboo.â
âCheers to Dooboo,â Seungkwan echoed, clinking his glass against yours.
You both threw back the clear liquid. The burn was sharp but grounding, loosening the tight, perpetual knot of anxiety that lived at the base of your spine. You set the small glass back down on the table with a soft thud and exhaled sharply.
The alcohol was doing its job. The twelve-year gap between you was dissolving with every shot, the comfortable, relentless bickering of your childhood sliding right back into place.
For the last two hours, youâd been trading war stories. He filled you in on the absurd reality of dorm life, grueling tour schedules, and the bizarre diets the agency forced on him. In return, you regaled him with the unglamorous chaos of university life and local radio with callers determined to debate the existence of sea monsters, power outages during live broadcasts, and the time you accidentally played a funeral dirge instead of the morning weather jingle.
It felt incredibly and dangerously good. You hadnât felt this seen, this entirely yourself, in a very long time.
And that was exactly why his guard didnât just come down, it plummeted.
Your phone, sitting face up next to your chopsticks, vibrated violently, the screen lighting up the sticky table. The name Youngjae flashed across the glass.
The comfortable warmth in your chest vanished instantly, replaced by a cold wave of dread. You were supposed to meet Youngjae for dinner tonight. He had canceled an hour before you got off work â a vague text about âovertimeâ and ânot wanting to push it at the hospitalâ â leaving you stranded.
That was when Seungkwan had popped his head into the editing booth and dragged you out into the rain.
You quickly reached out, flipping he phone face down with a dismissive motion. Then you reached for the soju bottle, carefully avoiding Seungkwanâs eyes.
âWho was that?â Seungkwan asked, his tone casual, though his inquisitive eyes tracked the defensive stiffness in your shoulders.
âNo one,â you lied smoothly, pouring yourself another shot. âJust spam.â
âAt one in the morning?â Seungkwan arched an eyebrow, skeptic. He reached across the table, his fingers gently tapping the back of your phone case. âYou looked like you just saw a ghost. Is it work? Did Chief Choi find out youâre the one who broke the coffee machine?â
âI didnât break the coffee machine, it was a structural failure,â you protested automatically, knocking the shot back. The alcohol hit your stomach, loosening your tongue just a fraction too much. âAnd itâs not work. Itâs just Youngjae.â
Seungkwanâs hand stilled. He swallowed a laugh, and you noticed it immediately in the silence that followed.
âYoungjae?â Seungkwan repeated, the playful lilt completely draining from his voice. No, he thought, not again. âCho Youngjae?â
You just nodded, and he simply couldnât string together a complete sentence anymore. You took a long sip of soju straight from the bottle, and Seungkwan exhaled slowly through his mouth, trying not to let it show anymore that the mention of Youngjaeâs name had bothered him. With any luck, youâd be too drunk tomorrow to remember it.
âWhy is he texting you at 1 AM?â
You sighed, dragging a hand down your face. The soju was making it incredibly difficult to maintain the unbothered facade you usually wore.
âI didnât know you two were still together,â Seungkwan said before you could answer, in what he hoped was a casual tone, though he couldnât quite tell if his expression helped sell it.
Shortly after Seungkwan left, you and Youngjae started dating. At the time, you were still in contact with Seungkwan, trying to keep up with him as much as you could. During your phone calls, he kept insisting that Youngjae wasnât the right guy for you. But when you finally decided to listen to him and broke up with Youngjae, Seungkwan disappeared from your life not long after.
âWe dated, broke up, got back together, broke up again, and then got back together andââ
âAre you together now?â he interrupted.
You nodded. âWeâve been dating for eight months.â
Seungkwan blinked, the information processing slowly through the alcohol haze. âWhy didnât you tell me before?â
âThatâs the thing,â you muttered, staring down at your empty shot glass. âItâs⊠a secret. He doesnât want the hospital to find out. He says it could ruin his chances of getting a spot at this big hospital in Seoul next year. So we donât tell anyone. We just⊠sneak around.â
The silence that fell over the table was sudden and deafening, save for the rain hitting the tarp.
When you finally looked up, you physically flinched at the expression on Seungkwanâs face. The boyish, flushed, drunken demeanor was entirely gone. His jaw was clenched so tight a muscle ticked near his ear, and his dark eyes were blazing with a sudden, terrifying intensity.
âHe hides you,â Seungkwan stated. It wasnât a question. It was a condemnation.
âItâs not like that,â you backpedaled, suddenly overcome by the desperate need to defend a relationship you werenât even sure you wanted to be in anymore. âItâs just practical.â
A frown creased the middle of his forehead. âWhy are you doing this? Why are you letting him treat you like youâre something to be ashamed of?â
Because you were terrified of being left behind again. Because Youngjae, with his cold, distant, and conditional affection, felt safer than risking your heart on someone who could truly break it by leaving.
But you couldnât say that to him. Not yet. Not ever.
âDrop it, Seungkwan,â you warned, your voice trembling slightly. You grabbed the green bottle and practically slammed it onto the table between you. âI mean it. If we are going to be friends again, you drop it. We are not talking about my pathetic love life. We are getting drunk.â
Seungkwan stared at you for a long, almost agonizing moment. The tension between you crackled, charged and unresolved. He looked at the bottle, then at your fiercely guarded expression. Slowly, he reached out and took the bottle from your hand.
âFine,â he muttered, his eyes dark. He poured you both a brimming shot. âWeâll drop it. For tonight. Drink up, PD-nim. Weâre going to a noraebang.â
By 2:30 AM, the combative emotional atmosphere of the pojangmacha had been thoroughly obliterated by a lethal combination of cheap beer, more soju, and the aggressive, blinding neon lights of the noraebang.
You were currently standing on top of a sticky faux leather sofa, clutching a plastic tambourine. The disco ball above you cast spinning, dizzying patterns of purple and green across the tiny, enclosed room. Below you, standing in the center of the room with the microphone cord wrapped twice around his wrist, Seungkwan was giving you an exclusive performance.
âTEARS!â Seungkwan screamed into the microphone, his head thrown back as he unleashed the impossibly high notes of the song.
His vocal control, even while completely blackout drunk, was infuriatingly perfect. He hit the high note, dropped to his knees on the sticky linoleum floor, and pointed dramatically at you.
âHit it!â he yelled over the instrumental break.
You aggressively smashed the tambourine against your hip, totally off-beat, screaming the background vocals with zero regard for pitch or human decency.
âYouâre pitchy!â Seungkwan shouted, scrambling up from the floor. He grabbed a second microphone off the table, and tossed it to you. âGet down here and sing, you coward!â
âYour stage presence is lacking, Boo!â you yelled back, refusing to step down from the sofa. âGive me some emotion!!â
Seungkwan gasped in mock offense. He tossed his jacket onto the floor, jumped onto the small glass coffee table in the center of the room â the table groaning ominously under his weight â and struck a pose better suited to a sold-out stadium than a fifteen-dollar-an-hour karaoke room.
The track switched. The dramatic synth intro of a classic early 2000s heartbreak ballad filled the room.
Seungkwan closed his eyes, clutching the mic with both hands, and began to sing with such exaggerated and theatrical grief that you immediately doubled over laughing. He sank to his knees on the table, reaching a hand out toward you as if you were a lover drifting away on a life raft.
âWhy did you leave me?!â he wailed, completely off-script, making the lyrics up as he went. âI gave you my heart, and you gave me a broken tambourine!â
âIt was a metaphor for our friendship!â you shrieked back into your mic, tears of laughter streaming down your face. Suddenly, you couldnât remember the last time youâd laughed that hard. Probably not in years.
You stepped off the sofa, stumbling slightly as the alcohol hit your equilibrium, and marched right up to the table. You pointed your microphone directly at his chest, looking up at him with a defiant, breathless grin.
âYou just donât appreciate my genius!â
Seungkwan dropped the theatrical act, though he didnât drop his gaze. He reached down and grabbed your microphone hand, pulling you close
For a second, the ridiculous facade completely shattered. You were suddenly entirely too close. Because he was kneeling on the table, you were perfectly at eye level. His chest was heaving, his hair messy and damp with sweat, flushed cheeks, his eyes completely blown out and dark in the spinning neon lights.
âYouâre staring, tokki,â he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, the smooth tone vibrating right through the microphone and out into the small room.
âYouâre in my space, Boo,â you shot back. You tried to sound authoritative, but your voice came out a little breathless, and you made absolutely no move to pull your hand out of his grip.
He tilted his head, a slow, devastating smirk spreading across his lips. His thumb absently stroked the back of your knuckles. âI think you like it.â
âYouâre so arrogant, Boo Seungkwan,â you mumbled, stepping a fraction of an inch closer until your knees were practically brushing the edge of the glass table. âYouâve always been arrogant. When we were younger, it drove me absolutely crazy.â
Seungkwan let out a smug, nasal laugh. âIs that why you were always trying to beat me at stuff?â he teased, leaning in a little closer, the scent of soju and expensive cologne suddenly intoxicating. âBecause you couldnât handle the charm?â
âNo,â you said, shaking your head, your eyes tracing the elegant line of his jaw. The spinning purple lights caught the flush on his cheeks. âI was trying to beat you because I was overcompensating. I had the biggest, most pathetic crush on you, and you were completely oblivious.â
The words slipped out with the terrifying ease of a drunken confession, made possible only by the fact that you were, in fact, very, very drunk. And maybe a little carried away by the thought that so many years had passed that none of it mattered anymore.
Or maybe still did⊠a little.
Seungkwan froze. The playful smirk vanished instantly. His fingers tightened around yours, his entire body going completely still on the table. The karaoke track blared on in the background, a saxophone solo filling the silence, but the air between you had turned to a vacuum.
âYou... what?â he breathed, his voice barely audible over the music.
âOh, donât look so shocked,â you scoffed, waving your free hand dismissively, though a sudden, hot flush of embarrassment was rising up your neck. âWe were fifteen. We spent a lot of time together. It was a statistical inevitability.â
You thought youâd read a article about it somewhere. Or maybe that was just your brain trying to convince itself.
He stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, as if the oxygen had just been sucked out of the room. âYou had a crush on me. Back then. Before I left.â
âMassive,â you confirmed, leaning back against the edge of the sofa behind you for balance. You let out a self-deprecating laugh, looking down at your boots. âAnd then you got on a plane and ruined my entire life. Tragic, really.â
You expected him to laugh. You expected him to tease you, to use it as ammunition for his ego, to make a joke about how he had always known he was irresistible.
But Seungkwan didnât laugh.
When you looked back up, the expression on his face made your breath catch in your throat. He looked absolutely shattered. The boyish amusement was gone, replaced by a profound, agonizing realization that seemed to physically pain him. He slowly scrambled off the table, standing right in front of you, entirely ignoring the microphone he dropped onto the couch.
âAre you seriously telling me you never realized I had a crush on you back then?â you laughed, throwing your head back. âJesus Christ. And I actually thought all that fame wouldâve made you a little less clueless by now.â
Seungkwan stepped into your space, his hands coming up to gently, almost reverently, cup your face. His thumbs brushed over your cheekbones.
âY/N,â he whispered, his voice thick with an emotion you couldnât quite decipher, staring down at you with desperate intensity. âIf I had known... I swear to God, if I had known...â
Right then, Seungkwan wanted to kiss you. Desperately.
The urge hit him so suddenly, so overwhelmingly, that it stole the oxygen from his lungs. It wasnât just a passing thought; it was a physical ache. He wanted to close the distance, press his mouth to yours, and prove to you with absolute certainty that if heâd known, everything would have been different.
For years, Seungkwan had learned how to deal with girls. He had lived his life in a boy group, surrounded by beautiful actresses, stunning idols, and thousands of screaming fans. He knew how to flirt. He knew how to charm. But there was something about you that completely paralyzed him.
Maybe he would never be able to do it. The fear of ruining thisâof crossing a line he could never uncrossâwas paralyzing. And maybe, he thought frantically, that was a good thing.
You were friends, werenât you?
You had just barely managed to salvage this friendship from the wreckage of the last twelve years. He shouldnât want to ruin that. He shouldnât risk terrifying you away when you had just finally let him back in. He should just be profoundly grateful that you were willing to let him be a part of your life again.
But his gaze dropped to your lips, the air practically crackling with the electric, terrifying pull between you. He leaned in, the gap between you closing, his breath warm against your skin.
BEEP.
The song ended with an abrupt, jarring electronic shriek. The machine loudly announced your score in a cheerful, computerized voice: 42.
The spell shattered like a broken mirror.
You both jumped, practically flying apart. The sudden silence in the room was deafening. You immediately spun around, grabbing your coat off the back of the sofa, your heart hammering against your ribs so violently you thought you might actually faint.
Seungkwan cleared his throat loudly, busying himself with untangling the microphone cords, though his hands were visibly shaking.
âThe machine is rigged,â he declared, his voice rough and uneven. He refused to look at you, staring intently at the plastic tambourine on the floor. âForty-two? This machine is completely broken.â
âYou were flat,â you lied, your own voice breathless as you practically sprinted for the door, desperate for oxygen. âCompletely flat."
By the time you stumbled out onto the streets at 4 AM, the rain had stopped, leaving the asphalt slick and reflecting the streetlights. The freezing sea air hit your flushed face, sobering you up just enough to realize the massive, catastrophic mistake you had just made: you had just confessed your teenage feelings to the man who had just came back to your life.
You stood on the curb, waiting for the taxi Seungkwan had hailed, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. He stood right beside you, a heavy, suffocating silence settling over the sidewalk. He shrugged off his jacket, stepping close enough to drape it over your shoulders without asking. The fabric was warm, heavy, and smelled devastatingly like him.
âThanks,â you murmured, pulling it together, refusing to meet his eyes.
âI meant what I said,â Seungkwan said quietly into the night air, staring straight ahead at the empty road. âAt the tent. Even if youâre mad at me. You deserve better, tokki. You always have.â
You looked up at him, at the profile of the boy who had once broken your heart, who had only just realized he could have had it all those years ago, and who was now systematically trying to win it back, even if you didnât seem to realize it yet.
âI know,â you whispered, the lie tasting like ash in your mouth.
PRESENT
âI just donât know,â Chan mutters, running a hand through his hair, turning on his heel to pace back the other way. âHer profile says she likes hiking and eye contact. What does that even mean?â
The lights in the break room hum with that same high-pitched whine that usually drives you crazy. Tonight, though, you barely notice it, drowned out by the sound of Chan pacing a hole into the cheap linoleum floor.
He glances between your faces, not breaking his pacing for a second. âIs she going to stare into my soul while we eat? What if sheâs a serial killer who uses dating apps to harvest organs?â
You lean back in the rickety plastic chair, nursing a lukewarm can of vending machine coffee. Across the small table covered with crumbs, Seungkwan is meticulously trying to free a bag of Honey Butter Chips from the machineâs coils, stubbornly jammed.
âI have great kidneys,â Chan continues. âTheyâre pristine. I drink so much water.â
Your phone, sitting face up next to your coffee can, buzzes violently against the table. The screen lights up, illuminating the dim space with a harsh white glare, and you donât even have to look to know who it is. You donât pick it up, but you see them glowing on the screen.
[Youngjae - 9:14 PM]: Where are you?
[Youngjae - 9:15 PM]: You ignored my call.
[Youngjae - 9:15 PM]: I left my spare keys at my hospital and Iâm locked out. Bring me your set ASAP.
Your heart rate skips, a familiar, ugly knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach. You massage your temples, quickly turning your phone off and pointedly ignoring the messages. He knows youâre at work, for crying out loud. He knows your schedule. He knows you canât leave right now.
âAre we really having this conversation?â you ask.
âIf she harvests your kidneys, I get your green leather jacket,â Hansol chimes in from the corner sofa. He doesnât even look up from his phone, his thumb lazily scrolling. âPut it in your will.â
âI donât have a will, hyung!â Chan practically shrikes, stopping his pacing to glare at Hansol. He turns his desperate gaze toward the table. âLook, Iâm begging you guys. I havenât been on a blind date since⊠well, ever. I donât know the protocol. I need security.â
Seungkwan finally gives the vending machine a solid hip-check. The coil shudders, and the bag of chips drops with a satisfying crinkle. He scoops it up, tossing a triumphant look your way before turning to Chan.
âSecurity?â Seungkwan echoes, popping the bag open and immediately offering it to you first, a habit you try not to think too hard about. You take a chip. âWhat are we supposed to do? Tackle her if she reaches for a steak knife?â
âNo! Just⊠be there,â Chan pleads, pulling up a chair and straddling it backward. âSaturday night. That Italian place near the marina. Don Capri.â
âWow, that sounds expensive,â you say, entirely off-topic, but not wrong. The restaurant is one of the most expensive in the city. Youâve never been there. Not on a date, anyway. âHow much is Seungcheol paying you as a junior writer?â
âItâs dimly lit. Romantic.â Chan throws his hands up in the air. âThe point is, if you guys are sitting at the table next to us, Iâll feel safe. If she turns out to be crazy, you swoop in and pretend thereâs a work emergency.â
âWhat if the things go well?â you ask, resting your chin on your fist.
âThen, you just eat your free pasta and leave me alone.â
âFree pasta?â Hansol suddenly looks up, his interest momentarily piqued, before his eyes drops back to his screen. âActually, never mind. I have plans tomorrow.â
Chan lets out a frustrated groan, dropping his head onto his arms on the back of the chair. He looks up at you through his bangs, deploying a pathetic, puppy-dog pout he knows works on you, because it always does.
âNoona? Please? Youâre practically my boss. Itâs a liability issue if I get murdered.â
You sigh, taking another sip of the terrible coffee. âChan, I donât thinkââ
âWeâll do it,â Seungkwan interrupts smoothly.
You snap your head to look at him. âExcuse me?â
Seungkwan pops a chip into his mouth, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. He looks ridiculously unfairly handsome in his oversized vintage knit sweater. âWe will absolutely do it. Itâs perfect. Itâs fieldwork.â
âFieldwork?â you repeat, narrowing your eyes.
âWe host a romance advice show, Y/N,â he points out, a mischievous glint in his eye. Hansol suddenly looks very interested in the conversation, and youâre dying to know why.
âAnd that should justify us going on a date with Chan becauseâŠ?â
Seungkwan looks at you like the answer is obvious. Itâs not. And deep down, you know heâs not saying everything.
âHow are we supposed to advise the lonely hearts of Jeju if we arenât out in the trenches, observing modern dating in its natural habitat?â He chews a chip theatrically and far too loud for your liking. âBesides, youâve been working too hard. You need a good meal. My treat.â
âI donât need fieldwork, and I donât need you to buy me dinner,â you shot back, though your stomach traitorously rumbles at the mention of good meal. âAnd what if Youngjaeââ
You stop yourself, but the name hangs in the air like a bad smell.
Seungkwanâs playful demeanor instantly evaporates. The warmth in his eyes hardens into something piercing and unreadable. He slowly sets the bag of chips down on the table.
âWhat if Youngjae what?â he asks, an eyebrow raising. âDoesnât want you going out in public with your friends now?â
Here we go again.
âShut up, Boo,â you mutter, looking away.
âItâs a favor for Chan, tokkiâ Seungkwan continues, leaning closer across the table, his voice low enough that Chan and Hansol canât hear. âA free meal. And you get to spend two hours pretending to be my date. I know youâve been dreaming of the opportunity.â
If only he knew.
In moments like this you wonder whether he really doesnât remember the night the two of you got drunk and confessed having crushes on each other when you were younger. That maybe heâs just pretending not to remember, exactly like you are.
You scoff, your cheeks heating up despite your best efforts. You wonât giving him the satisfaction. âIn your dreams, and maybe in my nightmares.â
If only you knew.
Contrary to what you believed, Seungkwan remembers that night perfectly. He remembers wanting to kiss you in that moment, and every day that followed. He remembers catching himself wishing, with everything he had, that you still felt the same way, even if he doesnât believe you do.
And if he had to take you on a fake date under the excuse of keeping an eye on Chan, then hell, heâd do it. Heâd do anything to make you feel that way about him again.
âSo itâs a yes?â Chan asks, completely oblivious to the sudden tension vibrating between the two of you.
Seungkwan donât even let you open your mouth. âItâs a yes,â he confirms, his eyes never leaving yours. âWeâll be your security.â
Chan lets out a massive sigh of relief, jumping up to grab Hansol by the shoulders. âYou hear that, hyung? Iâm going to survive! Now, let me show you her profile.â
As Chan drags a deeply reluctant Hansol toward the corner to inspect the photos on the girlâs profile, you let out a long breath and reach across the table to steal another chip. Seungkwan watches you chew, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
âShut up.â
âI didnât say anything,â he defends himself, throwing his hands up in surrender.
The break room door swings open, and Seungcheol pokes his head in, looking frazzled. âFive minutes to air, you two. Letâs go, the board is already lit up with callers.â
You grab your notes and your phone, practically sprinting out of the break room to escape the look in Seungkwanâs eyes. You make it down the hallway and push through the heavy double doors into the stationâs main lobby, heading for Studio B.
But you stop dead in your tracks.
Standing by the reception desk, drenched from the rain and looking absolutely furious, is no one other than Youngjae.
He is wearing an expensive trench coat, his jaw clenched so tightly that a muscle ticks in his cheek. The poor nighttime receptionist looks terrified, shrinking back behind her monitor as Youngjae taps his fingers aggressively on the glass partition.
âYoungjae?â you gasp, your voice echoing slightly in the empty lobby.
He turns, his eyes locking onto you with laser precision. The relief you would normally feel at seeing him is entirely absent, replaced by a cold, sinking dread. He marches across the lobby, closing the distance in seconds, rainwater dripping from his clothes onto your shoes.
âI told you to bring me the keys,â he hisses, keeping his voice low but laced with venom.
âI go on air in five minutes,â you stutter, taking a subconscious half-step back. âI canât leave the building, Youngjae. Why didnât you just wait for me to bring them to you after the show?â
âBecause I donât want to sit here for three hours while you play radio host!â he snaps, stepping closer, his imposing frame crowding your space. âThis is ridiculous, Y/N. I have a major surgery tomorrow morning. You think your little late night advice segment is more important than my career?â
âItâs not a little segment, itâs my job,â you defend, your voice trembling slightly. âI have responsibilities here.â
âResponsibilities,â Youngjae scoffs loudly, a harsh, dismissive sound. âYou play music and talk to lonely housewives.â He holds out his hand, palm up, expectant and demanding. âGive me the keys.â
You reach into your pocket, your fingers brushing against the cold metal of the spare keys, feeling a sudden and overwhelming wave of humiliation. You are the lead producer of the most popular late night show on the island, yet here you are, being scolded like a disobedient child in the middle of your workplace.
Before you can pull the keys out, a solid figure steps up right beside you.
âIs there a problem here?â
Seungkwanâs voice is completely devoid of its usual warmth, the one he usually reserves for you. Itâs cold, flat, and carries a quiet authority youâve rarely heard him use. Thatâs a side of him you donât often see. Seungkwan has always been gentle and soft-spoken with everyone, especially you, despite your usual bickering. So for him to speak like that, you know heâs really not having it.
Youngjae blinks, momentarily taken aback, before his expression curls into a sneer. He looks Seungkwan up and down, taking in the knit sweater and the casual stance. âThis doesnât concern you, Boo. Stick to your silly script.â
âIt concerns me when you show up at my workplace screaming at my producer five minutes before a live broadcast,â Seungkwan replies, not moving an inch. He shifts his weight, subtly positioning himself so that his shoulder overlaps yours, creating a physical barrier between you and Youngjae. âYouâre disrupting the station.â
âIâm talking to my girlfriend,â Youngjae snaps, his voice rising in volume. He tries to step around Seungkwan to get to you, but Seungkwan mirrors the movement, blocking him flawlessly.
âSheâs working,â Seungkwan states simply.
âI donât care if sheâs working! Sheâs myââ
âIf you donât lower your voice,â Seungkwan interrupts, his tone dropping to a whisper, his eyes locked onto Youngjaeâs, âI will have security escort you out. And trust me, I know exactly how to get someone thrown out of a building.â
The silence in the lobby is deafening. The receptionist is staring openly now. You can hear the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock.
Youngjae scoffs, trying to mask his intimidation with bravado, but he takes a step back. âYou think youâre still a big shot, donât you? Youâre just a retired idol playing host at a local station.â
Seungkwan donât rise to the bait. He donât even blink. He just stares Youngjae down with an intensity that makes the air feel thin.
âYoungjae, enough!â You finally find your voice, and it surprises you how steady it sounds. The humiliation burns away, leaving behind a sharp, clean anger at the way heâs speaking to Seungkwan.
You step around Seungkwan, pulling the keys from your pocket. You donât place them in Youngjaeâs waiting hand; instead, you drop them onto the small glass coffee table next to him. They land with a loud, metallic clatter.
âI am at work,â you say, your voice ringing clear and authoritative in the quiet lobby. âYou donât come here and disrespect me. You donât disrespect my colleagues. And you certainly donât belittle what I do.â
Youngjae looks at the keys, then back at you, his eyes narrowing. âAre you serious right now? Youâre making a scene over this?â
âNo,â you correct him. âYou made the scene. I am ending it. Take the keys and leave, Youngjae. Now.â
He stares at you, genuinely shocked. Youâve never spoken to him like this before. Youâve never pushed back. But standing here, with Seungkwanâs unyielding presence at your back, you feel a sudden, powerful surge of clarity. You are tired of shrinking.
Youngjae snatches the keys off the table, his face flush with a mix of embarrassment and fury.
He shoots one last, venomous glare at Seungkwan before turning on his heel. âWe are talking about this later,â he throws over his shoulder, pushing through the front doors and disappearing into the rain.
The heavy doors swing shut, leaving a ringing silence in their wake.
Your adrenaline spikes, then immediately crashes. Your knees feel a little weak. You let out a shaky exhale, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. âOh my god. Iâm so sorry. I am so sorry you had to see that.â
Seungkwan turns to you, and the intimidating aura is gone. What replaces it is soft, immediate concern. He reaches out, his hands hovering around you as if he wants to pull you into his chest, but instead he settles for gripping your shoulders, his thumbs pressing reassuringly against your collarbones.
âDonât apologize,â he says fiercely, his voice rough. âDonât you ever apologize for him, Y/N.â
âHe was so loud,â you whisper, humiliated tears pricking the corners of your eyes. âEveryone heard.â
âGood,â Seungkwan says stepping closer. His thumb brushes a stray tear from your cheek, the touch shockingly gentle. âLet them see that you donât let anyone walk all over you. You were incredible just now.â
You look up at him. The lobby lights catch the deep brown of his eyes, turning them into something almost golden with protective pride that makes your chest ache. He isnât looking at you with pity. Heâs looking at you like you hung the moon.
You want him to kiss you.
And normally, you would say itâs because you were feeling vulnerable, but you know that isnât it. Being with Seungkwan just inches away from you like this makes you feel like the teenage girl who was hopelessly in love with him. Honestly, youâve been feeling this way ever since he came back into your life.
âTwo minutes!â Seungcheolâs voice booms from down the hallway, echoing through the corridor.
Seungkwan lets his hands slide down your arms, giving your hands a quick, firm squeeze before letting go. You just nod to yourself, taking a deep breath, but as you turn toward the studio doors, he caught your elbow.
âTokki, wait,â he starts, his voice dropping to a serious register. He steps closer, his shadow falling over you. âWe need to talk about what just happened. About the way he treated you.â
You pull your arm back, shaking your head so hard your hair whips around your face. âI canât, Seungkwan. Not now. I have a broadcast to get through.â
âYouâre just going to pretend he didnât try to dictate your entire life in front of your colleagues?â
âPlease,â you cut him off, voice cracking. You look at the studio doors, desperate for the sanctuary of the booth. âJust⊠leave it alone. For tonight. If you care about me, just leave it alone.â
Seungkwan watches you, jaw tight, clearly wanting to push it further. Frustration and aching sympathy flicker across his face. He finally gives a short, stiff nod. âFine. But weâre talking about this later.â
You donât answer, just turn and walk toward Studio B, the weight of the night pressing down on you.
FIVE MONTHS AGO
Seungkwanâs house was entirely too quiet when you arrived. Usually, his home was a chaos of neighborhood gossip, the television blaring something, his sistersâ friends coming and going, and the smell of something delicious simmering on the stove. But today, the air felt subdued.
His mother met you at the front door with a deep, exhausted sigh. âHe hasnât left that room in three days. Ever since the official press release about his retirement hit the news cycle on Tuesday, heâs just been lying there. He wonât eat. He barely talks. Itâs like all the light just drained right out of him.â
âIâll handle it,â you promised, offering her reassuring smile. You gripped the manila folder in your hand a little tighter. âHe just needs a push.â
You marched up the familiar wooden stairs, your socks padding softly against the floorboards. You knew exactly the kind of existential dread Seungkwan was currently drowning in. For eleven years, his entire identity had been tied to a grueling, relentless schedule. He was an idol, for crying out loud. He was a performer.
Now, standing on the other side of that massive, terrifying decision to walk away, the silence was probably deafening. He had jumped off the cliff, and he was currently waiting to see if the parachute was going to open.
You were here to be the parachute.
You pushed the door to his childhood bedroom open without knocking. The curtains were drawn tight, casting the room a gloomy and artificial twilight despite it being two in the afternoon.
Seungkwan was lying flat on his back in the center of his bed. He was wearing a faded gray sweatshirt and soft sweatpants, his arms resting limply over his stomach. He was staring blankly up at the ceiling, looking so profoundly lost and exhausted that it made your chest physically ache.
âIs this a wake?â you asked, your voice cutting through the stale air. âBecause Iâm not wearing black.â
Seungkwan jolted slightly, his head snapping toward the door. His eyes were dark, rimmed with the red, puffy evidence of a sleepless night. âY/N? What are you doing here?â
âIntervention,â you announced simply.
You walked straight past his desk, didnât bother to take off you oversized cardigan, and threw yourself unceremoniously onto the mattress right next to him.
The bedsprings groaned in protest as you landed flat on your back, your shoulder practically brushing against his. You crossed your ankles, folding your hands over your stomach, and mirrored his exact posture, staring up at the ceiling.
For a long moment, Seungkwan was too stunned to speak. He just turned his head, staring at your profile in absolute bewilderment.
âYouâre invading my misery,â he finally muttered, his voice raspy and completely devoid of its usual bright energy.
âWell, misery loves company,â you countered easily, keeping your eyes on the faded, peeling glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to his ceiling. âBesides, we used to do this all the time. Remember? We spent half of our freshman year lying on this exact bed, staring at those stupid plastic stars.â
Seungkwan let out a hollow, humorless breath, turning his gaze back up to the ceiling. âYeah. Usually because you were having a meltdown about a chemistry exam.â
âWe used to lie here for hours,,â you continued softly, the memory bringing a bittersweet tightness to your throat. âJust talking. Planning out how we were going to conquer the world. We had it all figured out.â
âNow Iâm almost thirty, unemployed, hiding from the paparazzi in my childhood bedroom, and youâre running a local radio station on an island we swore weâd escape.â
âHey,â you admonished gently, shifting your weight so you could bump your shoulder against his. âMy local radio station happens to be the second highest rated afternoon program in the district. And that is exactly why Iâm here."
You reached over, slapping the manila folder onto his chest. He grabbed it instinctively before it slid off.
âWhat is this?â he asked, his brow furrowing as he looked at the logo on the cover.
âThat is a job offer,â you declared, turning your head to look at him. âYoonaâs co-host is transferring to the morning news division next month. We need someone who can talk endlessly, who understands the entertainment industry, and who is incredibly desperate for a distraction.â
He frowned, his nose scrunching slightly in protest. âI wouldnât call myself desperate.â
âMaybe not,â you shrugged. âBut you do need a reason to get out of this bed, Kwan. And I need someone who wonât trip over the microphone cables. Help out your oldest friend, will you?â
Seungkwan stared at the folder, his thumb tracing the edge of the paper. You could see the gears turning in his head, the terrifying prospect of a new routine warring with the safety of his depression.
Before he could overthink it and hand the folder back, you let the tough-love producer persona drop entirely. The anger and the resentment from the past eleven years had been quietly eroding ever since he showed up at the recreation center, and seeing him like thisâso broken and unsureâwiped out whatever was left of your pride.
âI missed you so much,â you whispered, the confession tumbling out of you before you could stop it.
You closed the remaining distance between you, turning on your side and resting your head gently against his shoulder. The fabric of his sweatshirt was soft, smelling faintly of fabric softener and the familiar scent that was just him.
Seungkwan froze for a fraction of a second, his breath hitching audibly in his chest, though his voice still sounded playful when he spoke. âWell, donât go soft on me now.â
âOkay, forget it,â you said, struggling to stand as you pulled the folder off his chest.
But then, Seungkwanâs arm came up. He wrapped it securely around your shoulders, pulling you a fraction closer until you were tucked perfectly against his side. His other hand reached over, his long fingers finding yours in the space between you and grabbing your hand, intertwining your fingers with a desperate, crushing grip.
He leaned his head down, pressing his lips to the top of your head in a long, lingering kiss.
âI missed you every day,â he murmured into your hair. âEvery single day, Y/N.â
You squeezed his hand, a sad smile touching your lips. âLiar. You forgot me.â
âAnd how could I forget you, tokki?â he asked softly, using the childhood nickname that instantly made your heart skip a beat.
You tilted your head up just enough to look at his face. âAre you still calling me that?â
âAlways,â Seungkwan replied without a second of hesitation. He finally looked down, his eyes meeting yours in the dim light of the bedroom. The exhaustion was still there, but the absolute, unwavering certainty in his gaze took your breath away.
You stared at him, the weight of the last decade hanging in the six inches of air between your faces. You had spent so long building walls to keep him out, but lying here, tangled up with him in the quiet sanctuary of his room, it felt like no time had passed at all.
âPromise you wonât disappear this time,â you asked, your voice barely a whisper, entirely stripped of its usual sarcasm. It was a plea. A genuine, terrifying surrender.
Seungkwan looked into your eyes, tracking the slight tremble of your lower lip, the fearful hope shining in your gaze, and his heart physically violently hammered against his ribs. Swallowing down the desperate, burning need to kiss your lips, Seungkwan tightened his grip on your hand and forced a soft, reassuring smile.
âYouâre going to get tired of me,â he said, his voice incredibly gentle. âI promise.â
He leaned down, carefully, deliberately, and kissed you on the forehead again. It was sweet. It was safe. It was the absolute maximum amount of restraint he was capable of mustering.
âIâll take the job, PD-nim,â he whispered against your skin, closing his eyes as he breathed in the scent of your perfume. âIâm not going anywhere.â
PRESENT
The reservation at Don Capri was for 8:00 p.m. By 8:05, youâre huddled in a corner velvet booth with a perfect line of sight to Chanâs table, holding a leather-bound menu high enough to hide your face but low enough to keep table four in view.
âHeâs sweating,â you whisper, adjusting the menu slightly. âI can see a bead of sweat on his temple from here. Heâs going to dehydrate before the appetizers arrive.â
Across from you, Seungkwan let out a soft, amused hum. He didnât bother hiding behind his menu. Instead, he sits perfectly relaxed against the velvet, looking entirely in his element.
âHeâs fine, tokki. She just laughed at whatever he said,â Seungkwan observes, taking a slow sip of his water.
The second he shuts his mouth, something metallic crashes to the floor.
Seungkwanâs eyes widen. âThough he just knocked over the salt shaker. Give him ten minutes, if he drops his fork, we trigger the station emergency text.â
âWell, at least she doesnât look like a serial killer,â you note, peering critically at Chanâs date again. Sheâs pretty, with an easy smile and, to her credit, she seems genuinely charmed by Chanâs nervousness.
âSee? Fieldwork. I told you it would be fine.â Seungkwan reaches across the table, his fingers catching the top edge of your menu and pushing it down, forcing you to look at him. âNow stop spying. We are supposed to be blending in. If you keep staring at them, people are going to think weâre private investigators.â
You scoff, though your voice comes out a little breathless. âBlending in? We are sitting in a romantic Italian restaurant, hiding behind potted ferns. We look ridiculous.â
âWe only look ridiculous because youâre acting like a spy,â Seungkwan corrects. âIf we want to be convincing, we need to act like we belong here. Like weâre on a actual date. So stop slouching.â
And you donât know it yet, but Seungkwan is fully intent on turning this into a actual date. Or at the very least, showing you how you deserve to be treated on one.
You straighten up, reflexively pulling your jacket tighter. âI am not slouching. Iâm trying to be inconspicuous. Which is hard to do when youâre dressed like that.â
Seungkwan looks impeccable, actually. Heâs wearing a navy lightweight sweater layered over a striped button-down, the collar and cuffs peeking out; a look so effortlessly devastating it made at least three women trip over their own feet on his way to the table. Your heart had done much the same when he showed up at your door dressed like that.
Not that you would say that out loud, anyway.
âLike what?â he asks, a playful glint in his eye as he leans back, looking entirely too relaxed for a stakeout.
âLike youâre going to a premiere, not babysitting a blind date,â you counter.
âIf weâre going to be security, we have to look the part. If I look like a scrub, theyâll think weâre just two random people loitering. If I look like this,â he gestures to his outfit, âweâre a couple enjoying a nice, expensive dinner.â
You do your best to ignore him referring to the two of you as a couple.
He caught your eye and held it, the playfulness fading into something more deliberate. âBesides, you look beautiful tonight. Even if you are trying to hide behind the menu.â
You roll your eyes, ignoring the way your pulse skips. âStop flirting with me, Boo Seungkwan.â
âTrust me, tokki,â Seungkwan says, a smirk tugging at his lips. Youâve never seen this side of him. âYouâll know when Iâm flirting with you.â
A waiter approaches the table before you can say a word. He glances between the two of you, his gaze lingering on Seungkwanâs polished attire before softening when it lands on you.
âGood evening,â the waiter greets in a hushed tone. âCan I start you two off with a bottle of wine? We have a beautiful Sangiovese that pairs perfectly with the chill in the air tonight. Are we celebrating a special occasion?â
You open your mouth to stammer out a polite refusal, to explain that you were just friends having a quick bite, but Seungkwan beats you to it.
âWe arenât celebrating an anniversary, if that's what you mean,â Seungkwan smiles, the warmth in his expression entirely genuine as he looks at the waiter, and then at you. âBut it is a special occasion. I finally convinced her to let me take her to dinner.â
The waiter chuckles. âWell, then, congratulations are in order for the gentleman. And for the lady, I promise the food will make the wait worthwhile. Shall I bring the wine?â
âPlease,â Seungkwans nods. He donât look at the menu; he keeps looking at you, eyes searching. âAnd weâll put out food orders in now, too. Weâll start with the burrata, please. And for the main⊠Tokki, you still love the mushroom risotto, donât you? With the truffle oil?â
You blink, startled. Itâs been years since you mentioned that preference, during a crowded high school lunch, of all things. âI... yes. I do.â
âTwo orders of the mushroom risotto,â Seungkwan says, turning back to the waiter. âAnd please, hold the olives for the lady. She hates them.â
The waiter beams. âComing right up. A wonderful choice for such a lovely couple. Iâll be right back with your wine.â
As the waiter glides away, you stare at Seungkwan, your mouth slightly parts. Your fingers nervously curls into the heavy linen napkin on your lap. You could probably dwell on the fact that the waiter keeps referring to you as a couple, but only one thing is on your mind right now.
âYou remembered that?â you whisper, almost disbelieving. âThe mushroom risotto?â
Seungkwan leans his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his fingers. âI remember everything about you,â he says simply, shrugging slightly. âBesides, you always look at the past section first, but you invariably order rice dishes when youâre stressed. And right now, youâre tapping your foot against the table leg.â
You immediately still your foot, a flush of heat rising to your cheeks. He is paying attention. He is always paying an agonizing amount of attention to you.
âYou didnât have to put on the whole performance for the waiter,â you murmur, looking down at the flickering candle to avoid the heat of his gaze. âHe probably thinks weâre together now.â
âThatâs the point of blending in,â Seungkwan says softly. âBut it wasnât a performance. If I am taking you out to dinner, Iâm going to do it right. You deserve to be taken out to a place with real tablecloths and good lighting.â
He doesnât elaborate more. He simply picks up his water glass, clinks it against yours, and smiles. Itâs the closest he has come to referencing your love life all evening, but he doesnât cross the line. He keeps the focus entirely on the present, on the two of you in this dimly lit booth, slowly forgetting why you came in the first place.
The waiter returns, pouring two glasses of the dark red wine. Seungkwan picks his up, holding it out toward you.
âTo fieldwork,â he toasts, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
You pick up your glass, the crystal clinking softly against his. âTo Chan keeping both his kidneys.â
You take a sip. The wine is incredible, rich, complex, and warming you from the inside out. For the first time all week, the perpetual knot of anxiety in your chest begins to loosen. You lean back into the velvet booth, allowing yourself to actually look at the man sitting across from you.
âSo,â you start, feeling a sudden urge of liquid courage. âIf this were a real date, what would the great Boo Seungkwan talk about?â
Seungkwan laughs, a sound that rumbles over the ambient noise of the restaurant. âIf you really want the full experience, you have to know the fine print.â
You arch an eyebrow, fighting a smile. âThe fine print?â
âYes. Iâm incredibly demanding.â
âOh, Iâm sure.â
Seungkwan roll his eyes and leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. The candlelight dances across his features, highlighting the playful glint in his eyes.
âI require a lot of attention, tokki. You should know.â He winks at you. âIâm the guy who wants to know exactly what made you laugh on your dive to work, and why you always steal my pens during per-production eve though you have five of your own.â
âYours are better and more expensive.â You lift a shoulder in your best you-got-me shrug.
Seungkwan doesnât care. Heâd buy a million pens just for you to steal if it made you happy.
He reaches across the table, his index finger lightly tracing the base of his wine glass. âAnd if this were a real date, I wouldnât be looking at Chan right now. Iâd probably tell you that the candlelight makes your eyes look absolutely incredible.â
Your breath hitches. The banter had shifted gears so smoothly you almost got whiplash. God, youâre supposed to be here to babysit Chan and his date, but right now the only thing you can think about is Seungkwan. Youâve practically forgotten table four exists.
âAnd then,â he continues, his voice sending a shiver straight down your spine, âIâd spend the rest of the appetizer course trying to figure out if youâre actually as unaffected by me as youâre pretending to be, or if Iâm allowed to hold you hand across the table.â
Heat rushes to your cheeks, completely betraying your cool facade. âAnd whatâs your conclusion, Boo?â you challenged, though thereâs far less bite in your voice than usual. You canât believe youâre actually flirting with your best friend right now.
âMy conclusion,â he murmurs, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before snapping back up to hold you stare, âis that youâre definitely not unaffected. Youâve been shredding your napkin for five minutes.â
You are affected. More than you want to admit, and definitely more than you want him to notice. Youâve been like this ever since Seungkwan came back, maybe even before that, when he existed only through blurry livestreams and phone screens.
You look down. The linen napkin in your lap is indeed thoroughly twisted between your tense fingers. You drop it immediately, clearing your throat, but you refuse to let him win that easily.
âYouâre very confident in your methods,â you note, leaning forward so that you are mirroring his posture. You tilt your head, letting a slow smile cross your lips. âBut Iâm curious. Youâve laid out your entire strategy. What makes you think youâd survive my moves?â
Seungkwan pauses, the confident smirk faltering just a fraction as his eyes widen slightly. âIs that a challenge, tokki? What exactly are your moves?â
âWell,â you start, dropping your voice to match his intimate volume. âIf this were a real date, I wouldnât need to put on a performance. Iâd just use what I already know."
You reach across the table, your fingers lightly grazing the cuff of his striped button-down, ostensibly to brush away a piece of invisible lint. You feel him tense under your touch.
âIâd tell you that you donât need the expensive sweater to impress me, even though navy looks undeniably good on you,â you murmur, looking up through your lashes. âIâd point out that you always rub your thumb against your index finger when youâre trying to play it cool. just like youâre doing right now.â
Seungkwanâs hand stills against the table, his breath catching audibly. You bite your lip without thinking, and immediately watch his eyes drop to the movement.
âAnd then,â you continue, imitating him and thoroughly enjoying the sudden, flustered darkening of his eyes, âIâd remind you that I know exactly what you sound like when youâre genuinely caught off guard. And Iâd make it my mission for the rest of the night to hear it.â
Seungkwan visibly swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. The playful banter vanishes completely, replaced by a heavy, magnetic tension that completely short-circuits his brain. You can practically see the gears jamming as he stares at you, completely charmed and entirely at your mercy.
âYou know, Iâm just... invested in the mission,â you whisper, pulling your hand back and offering him an innocent, victorious smile.
âRight. The mission,â Seungkwan breathes out, his voice slightly rougher than it was a moment ago. He looks thoroughly wrecked by your counter-attack, and thoroughly entertained by it, too.
He reaches out, his fingers grazing your wrist as you reach for your water glass. The fleeting contact sends a jolt of electricity straight to your heart.
âWell, for the sake of the mission, I think we should keep up at the act. In fact, if the waiter comes back, I might just to lean in a little closer.â
âDonât push your luck, Boo,â you warn, though a traitorous smile brakes across your face.
The burrata arrives, but neither of you pays any attention to it. The air inside the booth feels electric, every glance and teasing smile tightening the tension between you. The complicated reality of your life outside the restaurant fades into the background, replaced entirely by the thrill of Seungkwanâs undivided attention.
Heâs flawlessly attentive, anticipating your needs before you voice them, teasing you gently, looking at you with such unwavering focus that the rest of the restaurant seems to disappear.
Once again, youâre laughing more than you have in monthsâmaybe even years. You feel beautiful, interesting, completely captivating under Seungkwanâs gaze. It feels like youâre on an actual date. A hell of a good one, if youâre being honest.
By the time the waiter brings the checkâwhich Seungkwan immediately snatches up before you can even think about reaching for your purse, shooting you a look that brooks absolutely no argumentâyou feel like youâre floating.
âChan survived,â Seungkwan notes as he signs the receipt, subtly gesturing toward table four, where Chan and his date are bundled into their coats, flushed and smiling. âNo organs harvested tonight.â
âMission accomplished,â you agree, sliding out of the velvet booth.
As you stand, Seungkwan is already there, holding your coat open for you. You blink, faintly stunned, but slip your arms into the sleeves anyway. His hands linger lightly on your shoulders for a second longer than necessary, and the weight of his touch steals your breath all over again.
âThank you,â you whisper, turning to look up at him.
âAnytime, tokki,â he smiles, stepping back to let you lead the way out of the restaurant.
TWO MONTHS AGO
Your motherâs inn was perched on a precipice, a jagged, flat-topped plateau of rock where the wind always smelled of salt. You could hear the waves crashing against the cliffs all night long, a rhythmic, slightly violent lullaby that had soundtracked your entire life.
The inn felt like a stubborn relic by now, while most of the city had sprouted sleek, glass-fronted luxury hotels and neon-lit resorts. It was weathered by the sea spray, its white paint peeling in places to reveal the sturdy, dark stone beneath, but there it stood: strong, and holding on.
You family quarters were tucked away at the back on the ground floor. That night, Seungkwan had insisted on walking you home after the show ended.
It started raining all of a sudden, and your mother was outside taking care of her plants when the two of you reached the door, soaking wet. She immediately insisted Seungkwan stay the night instead of walking home in the rain, even though he lived just down the street.
âAigoo! Look at you both!â she shrieked, dropping a small trowel. âY/N! Why didnât you use an umbrella? And Seungkwanie! Youâll catch a cold and lose that voice of yours!â
âItâs just a little water, Auntie,â Seungkwan panted, trying to wipe his eyes, though he looked like heâd just climbed out of the ocean.
âAbsolutely not,â she commanded, grabbing both of your elbows and hauling you inside the kitchen. âYou are not walking home in this, Seungkwan. Itâs pitch black and the wind is high enough to knock you off the cliff.â
âMom, he lives five minutes down the street,â you reminded her, shivering as the air conditioning hit your wet skin.
âFive minutes too long! The road is slick, and your mother would kill me if her only son got pneumonia on my doorstep.â She was already rummaging through the linen closet, tossing a thick, oversized towel at Seungkwanâs head. âYouâre staying. We have the guest room made up, and Iâll find some of your brotherâs old clothes. Go, shower! Both of you!â
Seungkwan caught the towel, peeking out from under the white terry cloth. He looked at you, a hesitant, slightly mischievous glint in his eyes. He knew, as well as you did, that staying the night meant more than just avoiding the rain, it meant being back in the intimate, domestic bubble of your childhood, with sleepovers and everything that came with them.
You just shrugged. âYou heard her.â
âI donât want to be a burden...â he started, though his feet were already moving toward the hallway.
âThe only burden is your chattering teeth,â your mother countered, already heading toward the stove to put on a pot of ginger tea.
You stood in the center of the kitchen, watching him. Seungkwan looked so out of place in your home, yet he smiled at your mother and thanked her with an ease that didnât belong to the image you had of him. You didnât know it, but he felt more at home there than he ever did in his apartment back in Seoul.
âWell,â you sighed, wringing out the hem of your shirt. âI guess weâre watching something here tonight.â
Seungkwan grinned, the water dripping from the tip of his nose. âThen hurry up, tokki. Iâm not starting our study without you.â
Thirty minutes later, you left your room with a towel wrapped around your head, already dressed in your pajamas as walked down the hallway toward the living room, listening to your mother and grandmotherâs voices as they talked to Seungkwan.
âHonestly, Seungkwanie, you look so thin. Does Pledis not feed their retirees?â your grandmother clucked, setting down a platter of golden-brown pajeon and a bottle of strawberry milk for him at the coffee table.
âHalmoni, youâre the only one who truly understands my nutritional needs,â Seungkwan chirped, his eyes crinkling into that sweet smile that had weaponized fans for more than a decade. He was already very comfortably settled on the sofa.
âHalmoni, stop,â you protested, placing a hand against her back in an attempt to guide her away. âHeâs going to get an ego, and Iâm the one who has to work with him tomorrow.â
âOh, hush,â your mother dismissed you with a wave. She wiped her hands on her apron and sat on the edge of the armchair, fixing Seungkwan hair with a look that was equal parts maternal and deeply intrusive. âLeave the poor boy alone, Y/N.â
You could see it in her eyes as the gears in her head turned at terrifying speed, preparing whatever invasive question she was about to ask next. Your mother rarely believed in delicacy, privacy, or minding her own business. Especially when Boo Seungkwan was involved.
âNow, Seungkwanie, answer your Auntie honestly.â You squeezed your eyes shut the second a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, already bracing yourself. âA handsome, successful man like you, finally back home in Jeju... you must have girls throwing themselves at you. Do you have a girlfriend tucked away somewhere in Seoul?â
Your grandmother nodded enthusiastically, not missing a beat as she sat down next to your mother. âYes! We were just talking about this in the kitchen while you were showering. You know, when you two were teenagers, constantly attached at the hip, we always used to say it was only a matter of time. We always thought you and Y/N would end up together.â
God, that was worse than you couldâve imagined. Even if you actually agreed with her.
Your jaw practically unhinged. You froze right behind the sofa, your hands tightening their grip on the towel wrapped around your wet hair. âHalmoni! Mom! What is wrong with you?â
Seungkwan, to his credit, didnât choke on his bite of pajeon. But a slow, blooming red flush crept up the back of his neck, visible even under the collar of the borrowed sweatshirt. He looked up at you over his shoulder, his eyes sparkling with a dangerous amount of amusement, before turning his polite smile back to the two women.
âNo girlfriend, Auntie,â Seungkwan said politely, though his voice had dropped into that smooth tone that always made your pulse jump. âThe group kept me pretty busy. I never really found anyone who could put up with me.â
He paused, taking a slow sip of his strawberry milk. His gaze drifted back up to catch yours, a thoroughly devastating smirk playing on his lips.
âBut...â he continued, his eyes locking onto yours, âI have to admit, Halmoni has excellent intuition. I always thought we made a pretty perfect pair, too.â
You let out a strangled gasp, your face immediately burning hot. You grabbed a small embroidered throw pillow off the back of the sofa and chucked it directly at his head.
âAigoo!â your mother scolded, though she was trying and failing to hide a massive grin as Seungkwan easily dodged the pillow with a laugh. âY/N! Where are your manners? You donât throw things at our guest.â
âHeâs not a guest, itâs Seungkwan!â you shot back, completely flustered as you marched around the sofa to grab a piece of pajeon, avoiding Seungkwanâs entirely entirely too-smug expression. âAnd both of you need to stop encouraging him.â
âWeâre just stating the facts,â your grandmother stated placidly, patting Seungkwanâs knee. âItâs nice to have you back, Seungkwanie. It feels like things are finally exactly where theyâre supposed to be.â
âYou know, Seungkwan,â your mother turned back to Seungkwan, her eyes sparkling with a sudden, mischievous memory. âY/N was always your biggest supporter. Even when you werenât here to see it.â
A cold spike of dread shot through your chest. âMom. No.â
âIn fact,â she continued, ignoring your frantic eye signals, âshe kept a little... archive. In the back of her closet. Itâs still there. All those albums and the rare photocardsââ
This had to be a nightmare.
âMom, I swear to Godââ
âPhotocards?â Seungkwanâs head whipped toward you again, his eyebrows arching toward his hairline. A slow, smug grin began to spread across his face. âRare ones?â
âI donât know what sheâs talking about,â you muttered, your face heating to a shade of red that could rival the ON AIR sign back at the station.
âIâll go get the binder!â you mother chirped, already scurrying toward the hallway.
âMom! Donât you dare!â
You scrambled after her, but it was too late. Within seconds, your mother returned, triumphantly hoisting a thick, plastic-sleeved binder and a dusty box. She dropped them onto the coffee table with a heavy thud.
Seungkwan leaned forward, his eyes wide with delight. He flipped the binder open. It was a chronological history of his career: rare photo cards youâd traded for, newspaper clippings from his first win on Music Bank, and even a crumpled receipt from his first fan meeting in Seoul.
âIs thisâŠâ Seungkwan traces the edge of a photocard where he's sporting a questionable bowl from his first studio album. âY/N, even I donât have this one.â
He looked at the box, pulling out a lightstick that had been carefully preserved, its battery long dead but the diamond inside still gleaming. He looked from the collection to you, his expression shifting from teasing to something much softer, much more complex.
âYou kept everything,â he whispered.
You stood by the TV, arms crossed tightly over your chest, feeling exposed in a way that had nothing to do with radio broadcast. You felt like the teenage girl again, sitting on the parapet, watching the boy you loved walk away toward a life you couldnât follow.
âItâs just... memorabilia,,â you lied, your voice tight in your throat. âFor the history of Jejuâs most famous export.â
Another lie. That entire collection had been your way of staying close to Seungkwan after he cut you out of his life without a single explanation. You didnât just want to support his career, you wanted to feel close to him somehow, no matter how ridiculous it made you feel.
And honestly, youâd owned far more than what was left in that box. At one point, you even bought a life-size cardboard cutout of Seungkwan. But after one particularly angry night, you threw half of it away. The remaining pieces were only there because your mother had saved them.
Seungkwan stood up, the binder still open to a page of his handwritten lyrics youâd printed out years ago. âY/N. Why didnât you ever tell me about this?â
The frustration that had been building for months â of the twelve-year silence, of Seungkwan sliding back into your life as if he hadnât left a gaping hole behind â suddenly boiled over.
You looked him dead in the eye, your chin trembling just slightly. âWell, you left, didnât you?â
The silence that followed was terrible. Heavy. Your mother and grandmother, realizing theyâd accidentally stepped into a minefield, quietly retread to the kitchen.
Seungkwan flinched as if youâd slapped him. The smugness was gone. His glow was gone. He looked down at the binder, at the version of himself that had been a start while you stayed behind.
He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off before a word could leave his lips. âLetâs just watch, okay?â
PRESENT
The drive back to your house is suspended in silence. It isnât the uncomfortable, suffocating quiet youâre used to sharing with Youngjae after an argument; itâs a warm stillness. The ambient glow of the dashboard illuminates Seungkwanâs profile as he navigates the winding coastal roads, the faint sound of a lo-fi track humming through the car speakers.
As the tires crunch onto the familiar gravel of the innâs precipice, the sound of the ocean immediately rushes in to fill the space. Waves crash violently against the rocks below, creating a wild soundtrack for the storm brewing in your chest.
Seungkwan shifts the car into park but leaves the engine idling. The heater blows softly, maintaining the comfortable, intimate bubble youâve been trapped inside all night. He doesnât immediately reach to unlock the doors. Instead, he unbuckles his seatbelt and shifts in his seat, turning fully toward you.
You stare out the windshield at the peeling white paint of your motherâs inn, suddenly completely unwilling to open the door. Opening it means the âfieldworkâ night is over. It means stepping back into the cold reality where you are the secret girlfriend of a man who doesnât respect you.
âSoâŠâ you start, voice sounding a little smaller than you intended. You turn you head, sinking slightly into the leather set to look at him. âWeâre successfully completed the dinner portion of our research.â
Seungkwan rests his arm along the back of your seat, eyes tracing the line of your face in the dim light. âWe did. Iâd say the data we collected was highly successful.â
And the more e you tried to piece everything together, the more confused you became. Was Seungkwan actively flirting with you? Was he serious about what he confessed that night when you were both drunk? Or was this all just concern disguised as something else, his way of trying to save you from Youngjae?
You couldnât tell anymore, and that uncertainty was driving your thoughts into complete chaos.
You let out a soft, nervous breath, your eyes dropping to Seungkwanâs mouth for a fraction of a second before snapping back up to his eyes. âWhat happens now, then? In the spirit of a comprehensive study... what are your moves at the end of a date?â
âMy moves?â he echoes, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly tone that sends a shiver straight down your spine.
âYeah,â you whisper, suddenly hyperaware of the small space between you inside the car. âDo you just... say goodnight and drive away?â
âNo,â Seungkwan murmurs, leaning a little closer. The faint scent of expensive wine and cedarwood wraps around you. âIf it were a real date, Iâd walk her all the way to her door. Iâd wait until she got inside safely. And Iâd still ask her to text me after, just so I could be absolutely sure.â
âAnd then?â you press, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird desperate to be set free.
Boo Seungkwanâs gaze drops to your lips. This time, he doesnât even try to hide it, his tongue darting out to wet his own. âAnd then, if she were looking at me the way youâre looking at me right now...â His voice lowers even more, rough around the edges. âIâd kiss her goodnight.â
The air in the car vanishes at the same time it does in your lungs.
Every rational thoughtâthe fact that you are still technically dating Youngjae, the fact that you work together, the fact that this could shatter the fragile equilibrium of your friendshipâis completely eclipsed by the magnetic pull of the man sitting beside you. Your best friend.
You had spent a year starving in the dark, and Seungkwan was suddenly offering you a feast in the light.
Your gaze drops to his lips, slightly parted, before lifting back to his eyes, darkened and blown wide with anticipation.
âThen kiss me,â you breathe, barely believing the words have left your mouth.
Seungkwan freezes. For a single, agonizing millisecond, he just stares at you, his eyes searching yours frantically, as if trying to confirm he heard you correctly, making sure it isnât a joke or a mistake.
Whatever he finds in your expression broke the last remaining thread of his restraint.
He closes the distance between you in a heartbeat. His hand rises, long fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck, and he pulls you forward just as his lips crash against yours.
There isnât a hint of hesitation in the way his lips move against yoursâonly certainty. Itâs fifteen years of waiting, of quiet longing, yearning in high school hallways, on parapets, and in agonizingly small radio booths, finally shattering wide open.
His lips are warm and soft against yours, tasting faintly of wine and the chapstick heâd applied before driving you home. The hand on the back of your seat rises to grip your jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, and you gasp against his mouth, a soft, involuntary sound. Seungkwan takes it as permission for his tongue to swipe between your lips.
You melt against him completely, your hands flying up to grip his navy-blue sweater, afraid that if you donât, you might dissolve into a puddle in his passenger seat. Seungkwanâs kiss is mind-blowing, addictive, and so much more than you ever dreamed it would be when you were a teenager.
The center console digs uncomfortably into your side, but you donât care. You pull yourself closer, your fingers sliding from his chest up into his soft hair, tugging gently at the strands. Seungkwan groans, a low, incredibly attractive sound that vibrates against your lips as he grows bolder, pulling you over his legs to straddle his lap in the driverâs seat, your skirt riding up considerably.
You donât hesitate, practically throwing yourself into Seungkwanâs lap, his arm flying to your hips as you giggle when your head lightly hits the car ceiling. Seungkwan likes the sound of your laughter, but he thinks he might have just fallen in love with the little gasp and moan that slip out when he kisses you again.
Itâs dizzying, entirely consuming; you feel like your head is spinning. For the first time in months, you donât feel like youâre shrinking; you feel like youâre the absolute center of the fucking universe.
When you finally pull apart to catch your breath, neither of you moves very far. Seungkwan keeps his forehead resting against yours, your chests rising and falling unevenly in the quiet interior of the car. But when you open your eyes again, his expression isnât blissful. Itâs troubled, worried.
Your stomach drops instantly. Scared of what he might say next, you whisper: âWhatâs wrong?â
âY/N,â Seungkwan says softly, his breathing uneven. âIâm not strong enough to pull away from you right now. So if this was just a kiss for research... I need you to be the one to stop this before Iââ
You silence him with another kiss, your arms winding around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. Seungkwan make a soft sound against your mouth when you catch his lower lip between yours, your hips rolling against him involuntarily.
Both of you let out shaky groans at the same time when you feel the hard press of him where your bodies meet. Seungkwanâs head tips back instinctively, exposing the long line of his throat, and you immediately take the invitation, kissing your way along his neck while his hands slide down to your exposed thigh.
His fingers give light, lingering squeezes as they slowly travel higher, dangerously close to where you want him the most. The anticipation alone is enough to make you shiver, unsure if youâll survive the moment his hands finally reach the place youâve bee aching for him to touch.
You can feel the heat radiating off his body, his scent enveloping you in a dizzying cloud of desire.
Seungkwanâs fingers dance along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, the light touches leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His touch is electrifying, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you entirely. Your hips rock forward involuntarily, seeking more friction, more contact with the hard length pressing insistently against your core.
âPlease,â you whimper against his neck, your voice ragged with need. âTouch me, Seungkwan.â
He groans at your words, his fingers inching higher until they brush against the damp fabric of your panties. You gasp at the contact, your head falling back against the steering wheel as he begins to rub slow circles over your clothed sex. The thin barrier of your underwear does little to dull the sensation, and you can feel your arousal soaking through the material, coating Seungkwanâs fingers.
âFuck, Y/N,â he breathes, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you fall apart beneath his touch. âYouâre so wet for me already. I can feel you throbbing against my fingers.â
Emboldened by your moans, Seungkwan hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulls them aside, exposing your dripping core to the cool air of the car. He wastes no time before running a finger along your slick folds, gathering your arousal before bringing it to his lips. His tongue darts out to taste you, his eyes fluttering shut as he savors your flavor.
âGod, you taste divine,â he murmurs, his voice rough. âI could eat you out all night long.â
His words send a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself rocking your hips forward, desperate for more of his touch.
Seungkwan takes the hint and slips a finger inside your heat, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in slow circles. You cry out at the intrusion, your walls clenching around his digit as he begins to pump it in and out of you slowly.
âLook at you,â Seungkwan growls, his eyes locked on where his finger disappears inside you. âSo tight and perfect. I canât wait to feel you wrapped around my cock.â
The thought of him inside you sends a wave of heat through your body, and you find yourself fisting his hair, tugging him closer as you grind down on his hand. Seungkwan responds by adding a second finger, scissoring them inside you as he continues to stroke your clit with his thumb.
âSeungkwan,â you gasp, your hips bucking wildly as you chase your impending orgasm. âDonât stop, please.â
He leans forward, capturing your lips in another kiss as his fingers continue to work you over. His tongue delves into your mouth, tangling with yours as he swallows your moans and whimpers. You can feel your release building, your walls fluttering around his fingers as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.
With one final thrust of his fingers and a particularly hard press of his thumb against your clit, you come undone. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as you scream your pleasure into Seungkwanâs mouth. He holds you through it, his fingers continuing to stroke your sensitive flesh as you ride out the aftershocks of your climax.
As you come down from your high, Seungkwan slowly withdraws his fingers from your still-throbbing core. He brings them to his mouth once more, licking them clean of your juice before pulling you into one more kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, the flavor a heady mix of sweet and tangy that has your core clenching with renewed desire.
But as you lose yourself in the kiss, the reality of the situation begins to sink in. Youâre still in Seungkwanâs car, parked outside of your motherâs inn. At any moment, someone could come looking for you, catching you in a compromising position with your best friend.
The realization hits you not as a gradual dawning, but as a visceral, physical blow. It starts in your stomach, a sudden, plummeting sensation of nausea. You arenât just exploring a connection. You are cheating. You are cheating on the man you are still technically tethered to, and in doing so, you are dragging Seungkwan into a mess he doesnât deserve.
You look at Seungkwanâs faceâopen, hopeful, glowing with the anticipation of what comes nextâand the guilt that floods you is suffocating.
You canât do this to him. You can offer him a fragment of yourself while you are still tied to someone else. You see the way he shifts, his hand moving down to find yours, his fingers interlacing with your own, a silent offer to take this further, to stay, to bridge the final gap between you.
No.
The word echos in your mind, sharp and final.
You pull your hand away as if youâd been burned.
Panic begins to set in, and you pull away from Seungkwan, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. âWe canât... We shouldnât have done this,â you pant, your eyes wide with fear.
Seungkwan frowns, his brows drawing together in confusion. The warmth in his eyes flickers, replaced by a jagged, sudden uncertainty. âY/N? What is it?â
âI...â Your voice fails you. You try to speak, but the words stick in your throat. The air in the car suddenly feels too thick to breathe. It feels like the walls are closing in, the tinted windows transforming from a shield into a prison.
âDid I... did I cross a line?â Seungkwan asks, his voice dropping, stripped of its earlier confidence. Hurt is already beginning to cloud his features. âIâm sorry, I justâyou asked me toââ
âItâs not you,â you gasp, fumbling for the door handle. Your hands are shaking so violently you can barely get a grip on the lever. âItâs not you, Seungkwan. Itâs me. Itâs everything.â
âY/N, wait,â he says, reaching out to grab your arm, his touch gentle but firm, trying to ground you. âTalk to me. Youâre scaring me. We donât have to do anything else. We can just sit here. Just talk.â
You canât look at him. If you do, you know youâll shatter. You know youâll stay. You know you would trade your sanity for the feeling of his lips on yours, for the way his hands roam over your body, touching you in ways youâd only ever dreamed about, and that is the most dangerous part of all.
You jerk your arm back, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The engine is still idling, the low hum vibrating through the floorboards, matching the frantic, uneven thudding of your heart.
âI canât,â you whisper, the words barely audible. âI canât do this. I canât be this person.â
Seungkwanâs expression falls, his brow furrowing in concern and hurt. âY/N, waitââ
But you donât give him a chance to finish his sentence. In a moment of sheer panic, you scramble out of the car, not even bothering to fix your skirt as you flee up the path to the innâs front door. You can hear Seungkwan calling after you, but you donât dare look back.
Your hands are shaking as you fumble with your keys, finally managing to unlock the door and slip inside. You lean against it, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to process what just happened.
And for hours, you just stand there, trapped in the hallway of your childhood home, the silence pressing in on you from all sides.
A MONTH AGO
It was Seungkwanâs birthday that night. And despite his repeated protests that he wanted a quiet night in with you and his parents, his group members had blatantly ignored him, flying in from Seoul that afternoon and bringing with them a overwhelming wave of noise, expensive gifts, and a decadeâs worth of inside jokes you knew nothing about.
You had been invitedâor rather, Seungkwan had threatened to drag you out of the radio station by your ankles if you didnât show up.
âHere, Y/N, you need to try this cut,â Seokmin announced loudly over the sizzling of the grill, leaning across the table to drop a perfectly cooked piece of pork belly onto your plate. âSeungkwan used to burn the meat all the time when the for of us lived together, so I had to learn how to cook to survive.â
âMy cooking skills are great!â Seungkwan defended himself immediately, grabbing his tongs and glaring at Seokmin.
You laughed, covering your mouth as you chewed. Sitting there with them felt surreal, you spent years watching these men on television or through a tiny phone screen, but in person, they were just loud, fiercely loyal brothers who clearly adored Seungkwan just as much as you.
âDonât listen to them, Y/Nie,â a soft voice chimed in from the end of the table.
You looked over to see Jeonghan resting his chin on his hand, offering you a smile that was practically lethal. He was wearing a simple black shirt, but he somehow still look like he belonged on a billboard in Times Square.
âSeungkwan has many talents. Though, he is notoriously bad at sharing.â
You opened your mouth to reply, fully intending to agree with Jeonghan, but before you could even form a syllable, Seungkwan shifted his chair. He moved a full six inches to the left, strategically placing his broad shoulders directly in your line of sight, entirely blocking Jeonghan from your view.
âOkay, hyung, thatâs enough,â Seungkwan said, his ears turning a faint shade of pink. He furiously flipped a piece of meat on the grill. âEat your pork.â
You leaned back, trying to peer around Seungkwanâs arm. âI was just going to sayââ
âNo, you werenât,â Seungkwan interrupted, tossing a piece of lettuce onto your plate with entirely too much force. âYou donât need to talk to him.â
You bit your lip to suppress a massive grin.
Ever since they arrived, Seungkwan has been doing everything he can to keep you far away from Jeonghan. All of it because of the comment you made months ago about thinking he was handsome, inflamed by you bring it up a few more times just to annoy him, insisting that Jeonghanâs face belonged in a painting.
An as soon as you were introduced, you didnât miss the opportunity to announce that Jeonghan was your bias when asked, something the oldest member of the group took full advantage of, delighting in the sight of Seungkwanâs ears burning with jealousy every time he spoke to you.
It was a very, very fun night.
âFunny that itâs not a collection of his you have shoved in the back of your closet,â Seungkwan whispered, just loud enough for you to hear as he squeezed your waist.
You rolled your eyes, slapping his hand away. âShut up.â
That was another one of those things you hadnât talked about yet, and you had no intention of discussing it there with his members watching.
âAre you hiding her from me, Kwan-ah?â Jeonghan teased, his voice dancing with amusement as he leaned sideways to catch your eye again. âY/N, did he tell you I was dangerous?â
âHeâs blocking my view of the painting,â you agreed playfully, thoroughly enjoying the way Seungkwanâs jaw clenched, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek.
âI am going to throw you both into the ocean,â Seungkwan threatened, pouring himself a shot of soju. He pointed his stainless steel chopstick at you. âAnd you. Stop encouraging him. Youâre supposed to be on my side. Itâs my birthday.â
âIâm on the side of objective beauty,â you teased, bumping your shoulder against his.
Seungkwan rolled his eyes, but a reluctant, fond smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He was more than happy to see you getting along well with his friends, even if he was quietly sulking for your attention.
He leaned in closer to you, dropping his voice so the others couldnât hear over the sizzling meat. âYouâre terrible. I fly my friends down here to meet you, and you immediately try to run off with the visual.â
âYouâre a visual too, Boo,â you whispered back, patting his chin, the playful banter suddenly dipping into something much warmer. âDonât be so jealous.â
Seungkwanâs eyes darkened, a flash of genuine emotion breaking through the easygoing atmosphere. âIâm not jealous,â he murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second. âI just know whatâs mine.â
Your breath hitched, the ambient noise of the restaurant suddenly fading into the background.
After the night you got drunk together and traded teenage confessions, Seungkwan had started being flirty with you more and more. Your mother and grandmother certainly werenât helping, constantly fueling the idea that the two of you belonged together.
But before you could unpack that, Joshua clapped his hands together from across the table, catching both of yours attention.
âSo, Seungkwan,â Joshua said, raising his glass in a toast. âNow that the escrow officially closed on the Gangnam apartment last week, whatâs the plan? Are you buying a place here in Jeju?â
You froze, your chopsticks hovering halfway to your mouth. You turned your head slowly, staring at the side of Seungkwanâs face.
He had sold his apartment? The massive, luxury penthouse in Seoul that he had spent the last five years decorating? The apartment that anchored him to the capital, to the industry, to the life he had built away from you?
Seungkwanâs entire body tensed as he slowly lowered his tongs. He didnât look at Joshua or his members. He only looked at you, reading the absolute shock radiating across your features.
âYou... sold your apartment?â you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, entirely oblivious to the other four men at the table.
âAh,â Jihoon winced softly from across the table, realizing the sudden, drastic shift in the atmosphere. âHe didnât tell you.â
âI was going to,â Seungkwan said quickly, turning fully toward you. A flash of panic crossed his eyes, clearly bracing himself for you to be angry. âY/N, I swear I was going to tell you. The paperwork just finalized.â
âYou sold it,â you repeated, the reality of the situation settling heavy and absolute in your chest. Selling that apartment wasnât just a financial decision. It meant his retirement wasnât a temporary hiatus to clear his head. It meant he was not going back.
It meant he was staying for good. That the boy you loved all those years agoâthe one who broke your heart by leaving and not speaking to you for the twelve years that followedâwas actually back, and he wasnât going anywhere, just like he promised while lying beside you in his childhood bedroom.
It was too much to process in a room full of people and five pair of eyes on you.
âExcuse me,â you managed to say, your voice breathless as you pushed your chair back from the table. âI just need to use the restroom.â
You didnât wait for his response. You slipped out of the private room, the noise of the restaurant hitting you like a physical wall as you navigated the crowded hallway toward the back exit. You didnât go to the restroom; you pushed through the heavy metal door that led to the quiet, dimly lit alley behind the building.
The cold night air hit your flushed face, but it did nothing to slow the frantic beating of your heart.
He was staying. He was actually, permanently staying.
The heavy metal door creaked open behind you. You didnât need to turn around to know it was him. You could feel his presence, the familiar, grounding gravity that had always pulled you in.
Seungkwan stepped into the alley, letting the door click shut, cutting off the noise of the restaurant. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks, stopping a few feet away from you.
âIâm sorry,â he said quietly, his voice apprehensive. âI shouldnât have let you find out like that. I wanted to tell you properly.â
You turned to face him, leaning back against the brick wall of the restaurant. You let out a long, shaky breath, shaking your head. âIâm not mad, Kwan. Iâm just... stunned. Thatâs a massive deal. Your whole life was in Seoul.â
Seungkwan visibly relaxed, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders when he realized you werenât upset, just overwhelmed. He took a slow step closer, the faint light from a nearby streetlamp catching the sharp angles of his face.
âMy career was in Seoul,â Seungkwan corrected softly. âMy life... my life hasnât been there for a very long time.â
âBut why?â you asked, your voice filled with genuine wonder. âYou loved that penthouse. You worked so hard for it. Why would you give it all up?â
Seungkwan stopped right in front of you. He didnât hesitate. He looked down at you with a raw, terrifying honesty that made your knees weak.
âBecause I found a reason to stay here,â he said, his voice a vibrating hum that went straight to your bones. âBecause everything I have ever actually wanted is right here. On this island.â
He reached out, his warm fingers gently wrapping around your wrist, his thumb brushing over your racing pulse.
âIâm staying for good, tokki,â he promised, his eyes entirely focused on yours. âI told you that youâd get tired of me.â
You shook your head, not understanding why your eyes were suddenly burning, threatening to fill with tears. âI could never.â
A smile spread across Seungkwanâs face. âWell, then, great. Because I plan on keeping you as close as I can.â
A lump formed in your throat, thick and suffocating. You wanted to throw your arms around his neck. You wanted to tell him that you were terrified, but that you wanted him to stay close to you more than you wanted to breathe. That you wanted to close the distance between you right at that moment.
But then, your phone buzzed violently in your pocket, and you flinched as if youâd been burned, the spell cast over you shattering.
Once again, you knew exactly who it was without even looking. Youngjae had texted you ten minutes ago to say he was waiting two blocks down, parked near the pharmacy to reduce the possibility of someone known see his car.
The ugly reality of your secret life came crashing down, entirely ruining the beautiful thing Seungkwan was offering you. You were still trapped in the dark, and you couldnât drag him down into it with you.
You gently, painfully pulled your wrist out of his grip. âI have to go,â you whispered, the words tasting like ash in your mouth. âMy ride is here.â
Seungkwanâs jaw tightened again. He looked down the street, toward the dark corner where he knew, and you knew, Youngjae was hiding. The disappointment flickered in his eyes, but he didnât argue. He just took a slow step back, giving you space.
âRight,â Seungkwan grumbled, his voice entirely devoid of the warmth it held seconds ago. âHave a good night, Y/N.â
You couldnât leave him like this. Not on his birthday. Not after he had just implicitly confessed to altering the entire trajectory of his life for you.
You stepped forward, closing the distance he had just created. You placed your hands flat against his chest, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart beneath the fine fabric of his shirt. He froze, his breath catching as you tipped your chin up.
âHappy Birthday, Kwan,â you whispered.
Before he could react, you leaned up and pressed a soft, lingering kiss directly to the tip of his nose. It was an old habit, a childhood gesture of pure, unfiltered affection that you hadnât used in more than a decade.
He sharply inhaled, his eyes fluttering shut as his hands twitched at his sides, desperate to reach for you.
But you didnât give him the chance. You pulled away, abandoning the warmth of his orbit, and turned on your heel. You walked back into the restaurant to say goodbye to his members, leaving him standing alone beneath the flickering streetlamp. Then you slipped into the passenger seat of Youngjaeâs waiting car and disappeared into the night.
PRESENT
You didnât show up to work for the two days that followed the events in Seungkwanâs car.
Yesterday, you called Seungcheol, claiming a sudden, violent stomach bug. Today, it was a vague text about a âfamily emergency,â and Seungkwan knows exactly what the emergency is: youâre hiding from him.
He had sat in his idling car for five minutes that night, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, fighting the overwhelming urge to get out, walk to your door, pound on it, and demand answers to why you ran, what you were thinking, and how he could make you stop worrying.
But he didnât. Seungkwan had promised himself he would never be the reason you felt cornered, so he stayed in the car a moment longer, than turned the wheel and drove away instead.
Now Seungkwan sits at the desk in Studio B, his hands resting flat against the cool surface as he stares at your empty chair, the digital clock on the monitor blinks relentlessly: 8:45 PM.
Normally, this was the time the tiny broadcast room would be vibrating with frantic, pre-show energy. You would be shuffling through your printed notes, chewing absently on the end of a blue ballpoint pen, and shooting him exasperated looks as he deliberately tried to distract you. The air would be filled with a comfortable banter.
Tonight, the silence is deafening.
He reaches across the console, his fingers brushing lightly over the tape marker that designates your microphone levels.
He misses you. He misses your laugh; he misses the way your eyes crinkle when he finally manages to catch you off guard. He spent twelve years running from his feelings, and now that he has finally stopped running, the object of his affection is sprinting in the opposite direction.
The soundproof door clicks open, breaking him out of his spiraling thoughts.
Hansol and Chan step into the studio, bringing a sudden wave of chaotic energy with them. Hansol looks entirely unfazed, a pair of oversized headphones resting around his neck and a half-empty iced matcha latte in his hand. Chan, on the other hand, looks like heâs walking to his own execution, clutching your production clipboard to his chest like a bulletproof vest.
âHyung,â Chan starts immediately, his eyes wide with panic as he stares at the massive audio console. âIâm telling you right now, I donât know what half of these buttons do. If I hit the wrong slider, are we going to accidentally broadcast submarine sonar across the entire island?â
âYouâre not going to broadcast sonar, Chan,â Seungkwan sighs, rubbing his temples. âJust touch the faders Hansol marked with the green tape. Donât touch the red ones. The red ones drop the delay.â
Chan shifts his weight, still staring nervously at Seungkwan. âWhat if I need to drop the delay?â he presses. âWhat if a caller starts swearing? What if someone confesses to a crime? Do I hit the red button then?â
Hansol claps a hand down on Chanâs shoulder, unfazed. âIf someone confesses to a crime on a local romantic advice show, you let it ride, man. Thatâs just good ratings.â He shrugs. âJust breathe. You survived a blind date where you thought your organs were going to be harvested. You can survive pressing a plastic button.â
Chan visibly grimaces at the mention of the date, the very date that had been the catalyst for Seungkwanâs entire world tilting off its axis.
The solution Seungcheol had found for your absence was to put Chan in your place, with Hansol supervising him. Yesterday, Seungkwan had tried to manage on his own, but it was clear he didnât really know what he was doing without you there, aside from talking nonstop, trying to hide that he was lost.
âYou guys donât have to do this,â Seungkwan says, finally looking up at them. His voice lacks its usual bright edge. âI can try run the boards myself again. Cheol hyung said it was fine if we just played an acoustic set for the second hour.â
Hansol takes a slow sip of his matcha, his observant eyes scanning Seungkwanâs face. Hansol is famously quiet, but he misses absolutely nothing. Heâs seen the way Seungkwan has been pacing the halls like a caged animal for the past two days without you there, and Seungkwan knows he understandsâwithout needing to askâthat something happened between the two of you, even if he chooses not to intrude.
âWeâre doing it,â Hansol says smoothly, pulling out your chair and nudging Chan into it before taking a seat on the tiny sofa against the back wall.
âHansol, weââ
Buy he shakes his head, raising a hand to make Seungkwan stop talking. âYou look like you havenât slept since Saturday,â Hansol says calmly. âIf you try to run the boards and talk at the same time tonight, thereâs a high chance of a catastrophe. Just focus on the mic. Weâve got the tech.â
Seungkwan offers a tight, grateful smile. He pulls his headphones over his ears just as the clock hits 09:00 PM.
Seungcheol taps at the glass, giving a thumbs-up, while Chanâholding his breath and looking absolutely terrifiedâslides the green-taped fader up. The familiar intro of Love on the Airwaves floods Seungkwanâs ears.
He closes his eyes for a fraction of a second, channeling every ounce of his professional training to push the heartbreak down into his chest. He opens them again, leans into the microphone, and forces his smooth, charismatic radio voice to the surface.
âGood evening, Jeju,â Seungkwan purrs into the mic, though the usual playful lilt is tempered by a softer, more melancholic undertone. âWelcome to Love on Airwaves. Itâs just me again tonight. Our lovely, brilliant producer and co-host, Y/N, is taking a well-deserved couple of days off. So youâre stuck with just my voice, and a very nervous Lee Chan running the boards behind me. Be gentle with him, folks.â
He pauses, letting the instrumental track swell for a few seconds. âItâs chilly tonight. The kind of night that makes you want to stay inside and think about the people you miss. The lines are open. Talk to me, Jeju.â
The first thirty minutes of the show are a blur of standard calls. A college student stressed about finals, a husband looking for anniversary gift ideas, a girl who canât decide if she should text her ex. Seungkwan navigates them all with his usual empathy and wit, but it feels hollow.
He keeps instinctively turning his head to his right, waiting for you to chime in with a sarcastic remark or a grounded piece of advice, only to find Chan staring back at him in sheer terror.
âAlright, our next caller is on line four,â Seungkwan prompts, motioning to Chan.
He frantically presses the glowing yellow button. âLetâs welcome Yujin from Seogwipo,â Chan says clicking the mouse to patch the caller through. âYujin, youâre on the air with Seungkwan.â
âHi! Oh my gosh, I canât believe I got through,â a youthful, slightly breathless voice crackles over the studio monitors. âHi Seungkwan-ssi. Iâm a huge fan.â
âThanks for tuning in, Yujin-ssi,â Seungkwan replies, his tone dripping with honeyed warmth. âWhatâs on your mind tonight? Is there a boy giving you headache?â
âActually, I have more of a personal question to you Seungkwan-ssi,â Yujin says, her voice stabilizing.
âOh? Ask away.â
âWell,â she begins, and thereâs a slight pause. âYouâre always giving us such amazing advice about love. But youâre so private about your own life! So my friends and I were debating, and we wanted to call in and ask the expert himself.â
Seungkwan feels a slight prickle of apprehension, and he sees Chan freeze, his hand hovering over the equalizer dials, waiting for Seungkwan to give him a signal to cut the call.
But Seungkwan just keeps his voice light. âYeah?â
âWhat is your ideal type, Seungkwan-ssi? And donât give me the standard PR answer about someone with a good heart. We want the details!â
The jazz music in the background suddenly feels very loud, and the timing is almost ironic. It feels like the universe is playing a trick on him. In the corner of the room, Hansol lets out a low chuckle, clearly entertained. Chan looks between Seungkwan and the control board as if wondering which button he could press to save his ass.
It was a softball question. An easy and harmless prompt. The standard protocol was to describe a vague, generalized concept: someone who likes the same music, someone who enjoys long walks, someone kind. It was the answer he had given in a hundred different magazines and a thousand different interviews.
But as Seungkwan looks at your empty chair, at the blue pen abandoned on the desk, his media training completely vanishes. The exhaustion, the longing, and the absolute certainty of his feelings override his filter entirely.
âMy ideal type,â Seungkwan repeats softly. The radio-host persona drops away, leaving his voice raw, deep, and devastatingly sincere.
He leans closer to the microphone.
âSheâs⊠stubborn,â Seungkwan starts, his eyes fixed on the tape marker on the desk. âIncredibly stubborn. The kind of stubborn that makes you want to pull your hair out, but also makes you respect her more than anyone else in the world.â
Through the glass, Seungcheol sits up a little straighter. Hansol stops drinking his matcha, his eyes narrowing slightly as he realizes exactly what Seungkwan is doing.
He knew about Seungkwanâs feelings for you. He was the only person, besides Seungkwan himself, who knew. Now youâll finally know too, or at least now youâd be sure, in case Seungkwan hadnât made it so painfully obvious on Saturday night.
âShe works too hard,â Seungkwan continues, his voice wrapping around the words with a tender reverence. âSheâs super tough to the others, but really, she has the softest, most fiercely loyal heart Iâve ever encountered. When sheâs stressed, she taps her foot against the table leg and clicks her pens.â
Over the line, Yujin and the room go completely silent.
âShe smells like lavender,â Seungkwan murmurs, his eyes glazing over slightly as the memory of the car engulfs him, the heat of your skin, the frantic beat of your pulse beneath his thumb. âShe has this laugh she tries to hide behind her hand, but when it slips out, itâs the greatest sound Iâve ever heard. Sheâs brilliant. Sheâs so much brighter and more capable than she gives herself credit for. But sometimes⊠sometimes she forgets her own worth. Sometimes she lets people treat her like sheâs ordinary, and it breaks my heart, because there is absolutely nothing ordinary about her.â
The studio is dead silent. Chanâs jaw has practically on the ground, his hand hovering frozen over the faders, his brain still trying to process that Seungkwan is, in fact, talking about you.
âWow,â Yujin finally breathes over the line, her voice trembling slightly. The playful, gossipy tone is completely gone, replaced by something closer to awe. âSeungkwan-ssi⊠that doesnât sound like a type. That sounds like a very specific person. You⊠you sound like youâre already in love.â
Seungkwan doesnât even flinch. He doesnât try to backtrack, or laugh it off, or play it as a joke. He stares directly into the microphone, his heart completely exposed to the airwaves. âI am,â he confesses, the two words falling from his lips with staggering, undeniable weight.
Seungcheol stands on the other side of the glass, a smile tugging at his lips, his eyes wide as his hands hover near his head in disbelief. Chan lets out a shocked grunt Seungkwan is certain has just gone out over the broadcast, and Hansol chuckles softly in his corner. Seungkwan already knows heâll never hear the end of it once the dust settles.
âIâve been in love with her since we were kids,â Seungkwan says, the emotion finally cracking in his voice, turning it thick and rough. âSince before I even knew what the word meant. I spent twelve years away, and I neverânot for a single secondâfound anyone who could replace her. I came back here for her.â
He swallows hard, his fingers curling into tight fists on the desk.
âI think I pushed too hard recently,â he admits softly, not just to Yujin, but to the thousands of cars, kitchens, and lonely bedrooms tuned in across the island. âI think I scared her. I wanted so badly to pull her into the light that I didnât realize how blinding it might be. But I just want her to knowâŠâ
Seungkwan leans in until his lips are nearly brushing the foam of the mic.
âI just want her to know that Iâm not going anywhere. I donât care how long it takes. I donât care how messy it gets. She is the only person I want. And I am just⊠I am really hoping sheâs listening right now.â
He pulls back, his chest heaving slightly. Then he nods at Chan.
Chan, looking as though he had just witnessed a religious awakening, frantically pushes the fader up, cutting the call and flooding the airwaves with the slow, melancholic intro of a piano ballad.
Seungkwan rips his headphones off and buries his face in his hands, the adrenaline crashing out of his system, leaving him completely drained.
From the sofa, Hansol lets out a low, slow whistle. âWell,â he mutters, setting his matcha down. âIf she wasnât listening, half the island is definitely going to text her about it in the next five minutes. You donât do anything halfway, do you?â
Seungkwan doesnât answer. He just stares at the glowing dials of the soundboard, the echo of his own confession still ringing in his ears, praying to whatever universe is out there that somewhere, in the safety of your bedroom, you had heard him.
TWENTY YEARS AGO
It was early October, the magical pocket of time on Jeju Island when the humid heat finally broke, replaced by a cool, salty breeze that carried the sweet, earthy smell of impending autumn. The orange groves that defined Seungkwanâs neighborhood were heavy, the green fruit just beginning to tip into shades of sunset, preparing to blaze a golden-orange trail across the island.
But Seungkwan, at ten years old, was currently less interested in the cooperative biology of citrus and more interested in beating you to the stone parapet behind Jeju-si High School.
âSlowpoke!â he yelled over his shoulder, his small legs pumping hard through the deep, black volcanic sand. His feet, caked in wet earth and salt, left flying arcs as he ran. âIâm going to get the best spot!â
You were ten paces behind him, gasping and laughing in equal measure. He always did this. Heâd start the race before you even agreed to it. âSeungkwan, stop! We said we were just going to gather shells!â
âWinner decides the game!â he shouted back, and that was when disaster struck.
It happened in slow motion. The sand shifted beneath his feet, right where a small cluster of driftwood lay buried. He tripped. Hard. His center of gravity vanished, his body pitching forward, landing with a heavy thud right where the wet shore began.
The laughter died in your throat. âSeungkwan!â You scrambled toward him, your heart pounding.
When you reached him, he was sitting up, staring down at his knee with an expression of pure, unadulterated shock. The fall had split the skin. It wasnât deep, but it was ugly, the bright red of blood oozing through a coat of dark sand.
Then, the floodgates opened. It wasnât just a cry; it was a full-blown dramatic event. He gasped for air, his face crumpling, a sound that started as a moan ascending into a loud, wet sob. He wailed. He howled.
âShh, shh!â You panicked, throwing a glance back toward the street, convinced the entire village would think you were trying to kidnap him. âYouâre okay! It just stings. Youâre fine!â
He pointed at the knee, his finger shaking, but the only sound he could make was a high-pitched, stuttering breath. The tears were running down his cheeks, mixing with the sand, and he was getting so loud he couldnât even hear you trying to comfort him.
You tried the logical approach. âSeungkwan, look! Iâll run to your auntâs cafe. Iâll get a bandage. Iâll get a frozen yogurt! Iâll get two!â
He shook his head violently. He wouldnât let you leave, and he wouldnât stop screaming. The sound was slicing right through your nerves.
âSeungkwan, listen to me,â you said, getting closer. âStop crying. Please.â
His mouth was still wide open, and he was inhaling for another monumental wail when you made an impulsive decision. A split-second, desperate choice to save both of your eardrums and your reputation as his responsible friend.
You grabbed his shoulders, leaned forward, and slammed your mouth over his.
The impact was clumsy. It was sandy, salt-stained, and a little wet. His nose was in the way, and your teeth clicked. But it worked.
His crying stopped instantly. The air rushed out of him in a stunned huff.
You pulled back quickly, your cheeks burning with an intensity that rivaled the mid-summer sun. You didnât look at his knee. You stared straight at him.
His eyes were wide, round saucers. The tear tracks were still wet on his face, but his wailing was gone, replaced by a stunned, blinking silence. He was staring at you like youâd just manifested wings and turned into a seagull.
For what felt like a lifetime, the only sound was the rhythmic crash of the waves and the faint buzz of a passing Vespa on the road far behind you. The sand felt cold beneath your hands.
âYou...â he started, his voice a whisper, the wail having vanished without a trace. âYou just...â
You were blushing so hard it felt like your face would catch fire. You grabbed your shorts, jumped up, and immediately started dusting the sand off your knees, incapable of meeting his eyes.
âYou were too loud,â you said quickly, your voice unusually high. âI didnât know how to make you stop.â You pointed toward the main road. âIâm going to get that bandage. Stay here.â
And then you ran. You ran without looking back, away from the beach, away from the confused boy with the scraped knee and the silent stare.
That was the only time you ever spoke about it. When you returned with the bandage, he didnât mention it. When you walked home, holding two frozen yogurts and not talking, you didnât mention it. The moment became a shared secret, sweet memory tucked so deep into the closet of your friendship that you eventually convinced yourselves it never really happened.
PRESENT
The static from the radio filled the silence of your bedroom, a low, buzzing hum that mirrored the frantic noise in your own mind. You sat perfectly still on the edge of your bed for several minutes, phone clutched in your hands, its screen glowing with the digital dial of the radio station you had worked at for the last seven years of your life.
He had done it. He had actually done it.
Boo Seungkwan had just broadcasted his heart to the entire island of Jeju, stripping away every ounce of his private life to lay his soul bare on the airwaves. Every word he spoke had been a precise strike against the walls you had spent the last decade building.
A tear slipped free, hot and fast, tracing a path down your cheek before falling onto the screen of your phone. You had spent the last forty-eight hours drowning in guilt and confusion, suffocated by the reality of your secret, toxic relationship with Youngjae, and the terrifying, blinding light Seungkwan was offering.
But hearing his voice crack over the radio, hearing him publicly, fearlessly claim you in a way Youngjae never would, snapped something inside you. It was like waking up from a decade long fever dream. The paralyzing fear evaporated, replaced by a sudden, desperate clarity.
You didnât even bother changing out of your sweatpants. You grabbed your thickest coat, shoved your feet into your boots, and ran out the door.
The walk to his house was a blur of cobblestones and the erratic rhythm of your own heartbeat. When you reached the door, his mother told you he hadnât come home yet, that he had called to say heâd be late.
Your chest tightened with a brief spike of panic before instinct took over. You knew exactly where he went when his mind grew too loud. It was the same place you went, too.
You park the car near the edge of the cliffside path and begin the steep descent toward the hidden cove behind the school.
The wind whips your hair across your face, carrying the biting scent of sea salt and freezing rain. As you reach the bottom of the path, moonlight breaks through the clouds, illuminating the jagged volcanic rocks that bordered the crashing ocean.
And there he is.
Seungkwan is sitting near the edge of the water, a solitary silhouette against the dark expanse of the sea. His knees are pulled up to his chest, his coat collar turned up against the wind. Seeing him sitting on those exact rocks sends a violent jolt of memory straight through your system of the morning you said goodbye all those years ago.
You take a deep breath, the freezing air burning your lungs, and pick your way carefully across the uneven terrain. He doesnât hear you approach over the roar of the waves until you are right beside him. You donât even hesitate, sitting down on the cold stone next to him, close enough that your shoulders are nearly brushing.
Seungkwan jolts, his head snapping toward you. His eyes are wide and red-rimmed, catching the fractured moonlight. For a moment, he only stares at you, as though afraid youâre a mirage conjured by his own desperate mind.
You donât let him say anything before you do. âYou left.â Your voice isnât loud, but it cuts through the sound of the ocean with absolute precision.
Seungkwan flinches as if heâs been physically struck. He opens his mouth, a panicked apology already forming on his lips, but you hold up a hand to stop him.
âLet me finish,â you plead, your voice trembling but resolute as you pull your legs close to your body and rest your chin on your knees. âPlease.â
You look out at the churning black water, unable to meet his eyes yet. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him nodding for you to continue.
âYou left. You got on a plane, and you became a star. And I need you to know⊠I understand that. I know you had a dream, and I know the industry is a meat grinder. I watched you on television, and I was so incredibly proud of you. I am proud because you listened to me, and you didnât look back. You did everything you said you were going to do.â
You pause, swallowing hard against the tight knot forming in your throat. Right now. This is the moment when everything comes crashing down around you both. You just hope you can put it all back together afterward.
âBut understanding it doesnât change the fact that you didnât speak to me for twelve years,â you continue, your voice cracking slightly. You finally turn to look at him, letting him see the raw edges of your wound. âYou didnât just move away, Seungkwan. You completely erased me. You made me feel like the years of friendship meant absolutely nothing to you.â
Seungkwan closes his eyes, a tear escaping the corner of his lashes and tracking down his cold cheek. He bites his lip hard, forcing himself to listen, to take the hit he knows he deserves.
âI had whiplash from it,â you confess, wrapping your arms around yourself against the chill. âI developed this horrible⊠this complex. I spent the rest of high school feeling completely disposable. If the person who knew me best, the person I loved most in the world, could just drop me without a second thought, then I must not be worth keeping.â
You let out a watery, self-deprecating laugh. âI was a ghost. I was so incredibly sad, Seungkwan. I didnât start breathing again until I went to university in Busan and forced myself to become someone else, someone who didnât care, someone who didnât get attached.â
Someone who would settle for a man like Youngjae just because he promised he wouldnât leave. The unspoken words hang heavily in the air between you, but you donât need to say them. Seungkwan understands.
âAnd now youâre back,â you say, seeing that he wants to interrupt, but you canât stop now. âAnd itâs like those twelve years never happened. Telling everyone Iâm your favorite childhood friend, confessing and kissing me as if you never broke my heart. How am I supposed to react, Seungkwan?â
You shake your head, your lips pressing into a thin line as you fight to hold back more tears. You know he promised you he wasnât going anywhere, that heâs was back for good. But that doesnât lessen the fear you felt that night he kissed, much less erase the twelve years of radio silence.
âYou canât blame me for being afraid that one day youâll wake up and decide that being here isnât enough again. Because this time, Iâm not sure Iâll be able to survive being without you.â
âY/N,â Seungkwan whispers, his voice shattering on your name.
He shifts, turning his entire body toward you. He reaches out, his hands trembling violently as they hover over yours, terrified to touch you, terrified youâll run away again. Everything makes sense to him now. He understands it all with painful clarity, he sees that you werenât running from him, or rejecting his feelings for you; you were just scared.
âI am so sorry,â he chokes out, the devastation in his eyes making your breath hitch. âI am so, so desperately sorry for what I put you through. You were never disposable. You were the only thing that kept me sane.â
âThen why did you stop calling?â you ask, the question that has haunted you for a decade finally tumbling free. âWhy did you cut me off?â
Seungkwan lets out a shaky breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. âWhen I first debuted, the attention was⊠completely unmanageable. The sasaengs were relentless. They hacked our phones within the first three months. The company did a sweep of all our personal belongings, our contacts, everything, to see where our vulnerabilities were.â
He reaches into the inner pocket of his coat and pulls out a worn, dark leather wallet. His fingers are stiff from the cold as he flips it open.
âThey found this,â he says quietly, holding the wallet out toward you.
Tucked into the clear plastic window, its edges frayed and its colors slightly faded, is a photo strip. Itâs the two of you in a cheap photo booth at the Jeju summer festival. Youâre laughing, your head thrown back, while a fifteen-year-old Seungkwan looks at you with an expression of such pure, unguarded adoration that it makes your heart stop.
âI carried it with me everywhere,â Seungkwan murmurs, his eyes fixed on the photograph. âIt was my anchor. But when the management team found it, they panicked. They thought you were my secret girlfriend. They told me that if the fans found out who you were, theyâd destroy your life.â
You stare at the photo, your vision blurring with a fresh wave of tears. He hadnât forgotten you. He had been carrying you in his pocket across every continent, for twelve years.
âThey gave me an ultimatum,â Seungkwan went on, his voice hardening with residual anger. âCut all contact, change my number, and pretend you didnât exist, or they would pull me from the debut lineup. They told me it was the only way to protect you.â
He looks up from the wallet, his dark eyes locking onto yours.
âI was a terrified kid,â he confesses, the guilt heavy and absolute in his voice. âI believed them. I thought breaking my own heart was the price I had to pay to keep you safe. But I was wrong.â
He reaches out then, his warm hands finally closing over your freezing ones and drawing them into his lap.
âI should have fought for you,â he says, his thumb tracing your knuckles. âI should have fought the company. I should have found a way. I spent a decade completely miserable because I was too much of a coward to demand the one thing I actually wanted. I let you think you didnât matter to me, and that is the greatest failure of my life.â
The silence returns, but this time it isnât a chasm. The resentment and anger youâve carried for so long simply dissolve, washed away by the crushing weight of his confession. He hadnât abandoned you. He had martyred himself.
You look down at his hands holding yours, the warmth seeping through your skin and thawing the ice that has encased your heart for years.
âI called Youngjae,â you say suddenly.
The words are abrupt, instantly shifting the atmosphere. Seungkwan stops his movements for a second, his breath catching in his throat. His eyes drop to your mouth before darting back up to your face, terrified of whatâs coming next.
âI called him from the car on the way here,â you explain, your voice steady now, carrying an absolute, undeniable certainty. âI broke up with him.â
Seungkwanâs grip on your hands tightens slightly, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths. âY/NâŠâ
âI told him I couldnât do it anymore.â A profound weight lifting from your chest with every word. Your breath turns to white mist in the cold air. âI told him I was done hiding in his shadow. I told him I deserved better.â
You pull your hands from Seungkwanâs grip, but only so you can reach up. You frame his face with your palms, thumbs gently wiping away the dampness on his cheeks. His skin is freezing, but his eyes burn with a desperate, wild hope.
âAnd I told him,â you whisper, leaning in until your foreheads rest together, âthat it has always been you. Even when I was furious with you. Even when I hated you. It was always you, Seungkwan.â
A ragged, beautiful sound escapes Seungkwanâs throat, a cross between a sob and a laugh. The tension that has been holding him together for weeks finally snaps.
His hands fly up to grip your waist, entirely abandoning restraint as he pulls you off the cold stone and practically onto his lap. âY/N,â he breathes against your lips, your name completely saturated with devotion.
When he kisses you this time, it isnât the frantic, hot and overwhelming collision of the car. Itâs a homecoming. A deliberate, agonizingly slow sealing of a promise.
His lips are soft, warm, tasting of salt and absolute relief. He kisses you like heâs trying to pour eleven years of unspoken love directly into your veins, his fingers tangled in your hair as he holds you against him, as though you are the only thing tethering him to the earth.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you, melting entirely into the embrace. The cold wind, the crashing ocean, the messy reality of the radio station, and the fallout that will inevitably come tomorrow, all of it fades into insignificance.
When you finally break apart, youâre both breathless, your faces flushed despite the freezing temperature. Seungkwan keeps his arms locked securely around your waist, resting his chin in the crook of your neck. He lets out a long, heavy exhale, burying his face in your coat.
âIâm never letting you go again,â he murmurs against your skin. âI donât care who finds out. Weâre doing this. Weâre doing it in the light.â
You close your eyes, resting your cheek against the top of his head, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart against your chest. For the first time in a decade, the phantom ache of abandonment is entirely gone.
âI know,â you whisper, pressing a kiss to his hair. âI know we are.â
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Every ask & comment gives me life đ If youâre enjoying it, donât forget to reblog, helps so much and gets the fic out there!!
synopsis: you're too busy with textbooks and constant "when will you get a boyfriend?" questions. though, your roommate, choi seungcheol, seemingly has all the time to be sleeping around campus. it has you wondering, is it that good?
pairing: frat!scoups x genius!f.reader
genre: college au, smut, slight crack
word count: 13.4k
content/trigger warning: MDNI 18+ content, alcohol consumption, reader is an anxious person, reader is very sexually frustrated, reader wants scoups REAL bad, tension gah!, random ass oc names for readers friends, your friends are kind of pushy, drunk sex, brief mention of loss of virginity at the end, readers first time, brief dry humping, mirror sex, size kink & strength kink if you squint, nipple play, fingering, begging, degradation, grower!scoups, unprotected piv (no glove no love guys!!), multiple rounds/positions(missionary, doggy), overstimulation, spanking, rough sex, squirting, brief choking via choke hold, creampie, petnames: hers(baby), let me know if i missed any!!!!
a/n: oh my god i thought i would die before i would finish writing this. thank you thank you thank you, to my dearest personal friends and sister for supporting me during this. please enjoy, and if you see any errors don't be shy and mention them!! comments and reposts are very much appreciated <3.
one:
College dick is good, as everyone has proclaimed. Yet, here you are, two years into your undergraduate degree. No dick, no life, and no money. The Loser check list is practically already fully checked off.
If you didnât already exceed at the âLoser check listâ, youâre currently occupied at your cluttered desk. Head buried in textbooks, knee anxiously bouncing, hands taut in your âday twoâ hair.Â
There was an assignment that was due yesterday, and youâve been constantly thinking about it since. To be honest, you donât even know why you put it off, you swear you only did that to make yourself go insane.
You thought that you'll live a little but you're always stuck studying and finishing presentations. Or when you do socialize, all your friends talk about the cute boy on campus, or how dinner went with their boyfriend of two months, or their sneaky link ghosting them.Â
Those were also gentle reminders why you should stay single. You had your fair share; some blowjobs, as in one, then making out, and the list kind of stopped there. You prioritized homework and studying, over boys that are Mr. Minute Man.
As if college couldnât get any worse, you're also stuck with a sucky ass roommate. You didn't want to pay for on campus dorms, so you decided on a nicer place, but having to commute to school every day.
The thing about your roommate, is that they're full of shit, obnoxious, always, and when I mean always, it's constant, they're constantly fucking someone. You thought your libido was high? Oh no, you've truly been out-freaked by your roommate, Choi, freaking, Seungcheol.
Practically half of the campus girls had walked in and out of your flat. The real reason why, is because of Choi Seungcheol's fucking dick. His cock is a living and walking legend. Him as a whole is already a package: strong arms, deep voice, tall, and broad. Then, his dick was just the ribbon on the entire present.Â
Truly his greed sickens you, and yet the fact he's fucking a sorority sister, maybe every other week, agitates you. It made you wonder, is it really that good?
â
It was another quiet day in your shared flat, you're brewing coffee absently. Seungcheol had left the house for some activity in his fraternity. He said it was some team bonding shit and then slammed the door. Perfect, you thought, the house was finally silent.Â
The awfully thin walls reverberated the moans from the squealiest girl he fucked last night. You needed this coffee and silence more than anything right now.Â
Your brain buzzed busily as you recalled the homework and upcoming tests you needed to finish and study for.
The electric kettle clicked with the bubbling of boiling water, signifying you to get out of your head. You poured the boiling water into a thick, glass mug. Stirring up the syrup concoction you just made.
It was your natural routine, the sound of your metal spoon clinking against your ceramic mug, with the rumbling and humming of cars outside your flat. It was comforting to say the least, when it was quiet.
Although many days like this, your brain wasn't. The loud noises from last night always sink into your stomach, coiling like a boa constrictor ready to eat their prey. You donât know when this sexual fixation started, or how you were so sensitive to⊠well that stuff.
Maybe it started when you began to read stupid smut books where they don't even execute sex properly. Then when you were older, watching stupid pornos where they go at an ungodly speed, and somehow you couldnât live without thinking about sex. Wishing to experience, like all those girls who said they lost their virginity in stupid highschool.Â
What got to your head was the fact you were so inexperienced, yet so experienced at the same time.
You let out a sharp exhale as you checked your phone with sudden urgency you didn't have five minutes ago. Your friends had decided you didn't come outside your house enough this month, so they invited you to eat some brunch with them.
It always went the same way, small talk, boyfriend talk, then to 'are-you-seeing-anyone' talk. Like, theyâve managed to ask the same thing in the span of a week.Â
Perhaps your relationship status might have changed, but for you, no way in heaven would it.Â
It's okay, they were good friends nonetheless. Always pushing you to do new things, and keeping that spark of social skills alive in you, despite your refusal.
There's not much they can do when you've set your standards higher than your grades, which your grades are pretty high. Or modestly high. Or is it average? You don't know anymore, with the ghost of expectations haunting you. A strict set of rules no one ever asked you to meet, managed to keep you in line.
â
You quickly tidied up your hair as you caught a glance of yourself in the mirror. Your lips tugged up into a staged smile, then into a smirk of pure shock. You haven't seen yourself so put together in maybe, months? Usually these small dates with your friends motivated you to doll yourself up.
It's almost addictive how good you look when you put effort into your looks. You don't care how you look most of the time, because literally no one else cares. Plus, Seungcheol brings over these goddess-like girls, and you don't even dare try to compete with them. Not like you⊠not like you ever thought about appealing to Seungcheol.Â
As you exited the house, Seungcheol was making his way back home, glancing at you like a stranger.
"Where are you going?" He pressed, making you shoot him an incredulous glare. Heâs acting like you donât have a social life, which is partially correct.
"Brunch. With my friends." You stated it like it was obvious, like he could have guessed. Which he couldn't.Â
He doesn't believe in 'brunch'. It's either late breakfast or early lunch, no such thing as 'brunch', he proclaimed the last time you uttered such words.
"Oh, okay." He cocked an accusing eyebrow, and walked into the house without another word. You let out a scoff, rolling your eyes at how stupid that conversation was.
That summed up your relationship, a few words, a glare, and then thick silence. Recently though, heâs been ignoring you, or avoiding you? You canât tell because youâve been avoiding home as of late.
An uncharacteristic thing thatâs been happening is the lack of girls flooding into your shared place. Last night was kind of a surprise though, he would have told you before⊠but he didnât. Honestly, youâre kind of thankful that he told youâ excluding last nightâ because you couldnât manage any more sleepless nights.
You sighed slamming your car door to silence the endless spill of thoughts in your head. Your eyes tried to keep focus on the route as your knuckles clenched to white. He's so utterly stupid, you can't believe people would flock over to suck his dickâ
Your GPS yelled at you that you had missed your left turn. A long sigh dragged from your lips as you followed the prompted directions. Youâre shooting glances at your phone whilst making sure another driver doesnât decide to play footsies with their brake.
Something thatâs a mystery to you is how Seungcheol inhabited a chunk of your brain. The ratio being 95% school and 5% Seungcheol, and thatâs pretty extreme for you.Â
Heâs your roommate, you shouldnât be imagining wanting to run your hands along his back muscles, tracing the tattoo of an olive tree down the column of his spine. Or even how his face feels when he buries it into the crook of your neck, his calloused hands gripping onto your thighs.
Whenever he occupied your thoughts, you couldnât figure out why. Even if you were to stop and think, itâd strain your big, beautiful brain. You wouldnât dare date him, he sleeps around, heâs an asshole, heâs not as driven in school as you are. Heâs just⊠just someone you shouldnât date or be affiliated with.Â
Your pride held you back mostly, and you knew that. Itâs just if you were to date him, you feel like this perfect world you had built so deliberately, will shatter. Your friends will be disappointed, the past girls he dated and slept with will lash out at you, and maybe even your parents will be disappointed. You donât want that. You donât want to disappoint anyone, and most importantly, you donât want to disappoint Seungcheol.
-
The cafe was cozy, with welcoming colors and flourishing plants. In the window, you can see an older guy with a newspaper who sat alone in a booth. A family of four eating at a table while talking animatedly to each other. Then an awfully chatty dude talking to the guy working behind the bar, adjusting the cakes on the display.Â
After you begrudgingly parallel parked, the door chimed as you pushed it open. A chipper, brunette hostess greeted you, but your friends are already hooting and hollering in a booth that you can only see in your peripheral.
"I'm... with them." You motioned with your thumb, and the hostess just nodded with an understanding smile on her lips.
"Oh my god! It's a miracle!" Erika exclaimed, her dyed dirty blonde hair tied neatly up into a bun. A gummy, warm smile graced her already beautiful face.
"Is it really one? We had to beg her to come out." Jennifer retorted, snorting before she drank a sip out of her chai latte. She tucked her silky black hair behind her ear, her dainty silver piercings glimmering in the morning light.
You let out a scoff as you playfully shoved Jennifer, who gasped in offense. "Listen now, I just didn't want to bail on your guy's beautiful faces."Â
"Please, we all know you need relationship advice." Jennifer murmured slyly, making Erika laugh. She always laughed at anything, and which you're thankful for, because you'd actually fight Jennifer if it wasn't for Erika's sweet laughter.
"Me? How's you and that mysterious campus boy you kissed at the last sorority party?" You prodded, Jennifer returned your comment with a lazy eye roll.
"Hey, that was just a one time thing. He's kind of weird." She admitted, stirring her drink absently.
Erika hummed noncommittally, seemingly deep in thought or just spacing out. "Wasn't he like a stoner? I'm pretty sure Jiwon got in trouble last time for being with a guy who did drugs."
"Erika what the actual hell are you talking about?" Jennifer laughed, looking at Erika's already dumbfounded face.
"Oh my god, are you guys talking about Chris? Seungcheol said he got kicked out." You whispered in a conspirative manner. Seungcheol didn't actually tell you this directly, you just happened to overhear.
"You kissed Chris?" Erika's face visibly repulsed, plucking up her menu.
"No! I don't know what this idiot is talking aboutâ" Jennifer sighed loudly as she cut herself off, playfully glaring back at you.
"Speaking of Seungcheol, you should go to his party this weekend." Jennifer suggested to you, in order to change the topic, her manicured nails clinking against her drink.
"Girl, if I went to a party, something seriously wrong must have happened." You plainly responded, closing your menu. "Are you guys ready to order?"
Erika hummed in response as she stirred the straw around in her drink. Jennifer called over the waiter who happened to be placing out cups of water for a nearby table.Â
Jennifer was always the strong-headed, blunt beauty in this trio. With her dark hair and monochromatic clothing, even you would date her.
Erika on the other hand... was different. Her bubbly, giggly attitude was a stark difference to Jennifer. To the pastel and warm toned clothing and delicate, you can say those two were polar opposites.
With you, you were the perfect mix of them both. That's why you guys get along so well. Even though they nag you about your absent dating life.Â
-
Your meal arrived in a speedy manner, youâre already stuffing your face because just coffee wouldn't cut it for you.Â
Erika and Jennifer rambled about the drama between sororities right now. How girls are constantly getting caught being indecent literally anywhere now. They turn their attention to your crumb dusted face.
"Say, has Seungcheol been bringing anyone to your place recently?" Erika poked, pointing her fork at you.
"No? Well, usually he's been doing it when I'm out of the house, in the library." You chewed on your right side of your mouth, washing your meal down with water.
"Of course... the library." Jennifer mused, giving you a teasing glare.
"Well excuse me⊠Mr. Wagner assigned a freaking essay right before break. I don't wanna hear moaning when I'm writing about some... stupid bullshit he always pulls out of his ass." You retorted, no more food in your mouth.
Jennifer raised her hands in defense. "Okay chill, I was just making an observation. Also, how have you been keeping up with Seungcheol? You havenât been bitching and moaning about him recently.â
âHey! Iâve never bitched and moaned about Seungcheol.â You pointed your fork at Jennifer. You havenât actually, it was a keen observation. Recently heâs been nicer to you, if avoiding you is being nice.
Erika glanced at you like you were crazy. âExcuse me??? Thatâs all you did for about maybe a month.â
You sighed in defeat, poking at your food absently. â...Okay maybe.â
ââOkay maybeâ isnât an answer, something has to be going on.â Jennifer nagged, and she was kind of right. Just kind of.
âFine⊠if you want to hear it so badly, I guess Iâll just admit it.â A long sigh dragged from your lips; the heavy weight of your thoughts fleeting as you prepared to announce it.
You annoyingly drawled out the thick silence, nails tapping insistently on the dining table. âIt's like⊠I canât stop thinking about him.â You mumbled out, eyes glued on your food.
They both groaned, like they saw this coming.
âDude, what⊠What the hell?â Erika sighed, pinching her nose bridge.
âI freaking knew it!â Jennifer scoffed, smashing her fork against the table, creating an awfully loud metallic clank.
âGuysâ just hear me out.â You started, but both of them look unimpressed, easily shutting you up. A ball of guilt started stirring in your stomach as you looked at them in panic. Unease rushed through your body, as anxious thoughts flooded your mind.
âYouâre coming to this party if you like it or not. You need to realize that Seungcheol is actually evil.â Jennifer reprimanded, she immediately yanked out her phone. âSending you the details, right now.â
Shortly, your phone buzzed with Jenniferâs contact dropping down on the notification bar. Telling them and understanding your feelings, was already a sign youâre too far gone. It's their duty to refrain you from falling victim to Choi Seungcheol. Even if theyâre already failing.
two:Â
Pathetically, you've retreated to the library to take your mind off things. Taking a quiet corner you've always claimed. The familiar musty smell of yellowed paper and the outside rain truly healed your heart. You neatly set up your folders, pushing up your slipping bluelight glasses.
It was perfect actually, the clouds blocking the shining sun with fat drops of rain. An unexpected heavy sigh escaped your lips, as you stared at your blank document. You came here to distract yourself, but you spot a touchy couple a few tables away to your right.Â
You can see his hand squeeze her thigh in broad fluorescent lighting. How her leg is thrown over his knee, and how their shoulders rubbed against each other.Â
Your nails dugged into your knees unconsciously at the sight. The tension in your jaw snapped you back to reality.
God, get a room, you thought.Â
As your knee bounced anxiously, you can't help your drifting mind.Â
Imagining the warmth and pressure of someone else's hands. Their own personal scent fogging your mind, their voice soft and reserved for you. His strong arms draped over your shoulder like it belonged there as he played with your hair. A gummy smile growing, making his dimples cave in his cute cheeks. His full, pouty lips distract you from his attentive eyesâŠ
You shook your head to snap yourself out of this perverted daze. You can't believe you just thought about Seungcheol. Wait. Was that Seungcheol you were thinking about?Â
An annoyed sigh escaped your bitten lips, your eyes snapping back down to the bare document.Â
-
Ten minutes went by. Then fifteen. Then thirty.
Your nail tapped insistenly against the metal of your laptop while your bouncing knee practically shook the whole table. The downpour of the rain was getting louder and more intense, some people fleeing into the library to just wait it out.
Your mind returned to those past imaginations, absolutely wrecking your concentration. You feel too immersed in your thoughts, even to the point where your heart started racing at the idea.
Itâs almost like you can feel his breath mingling with yours and stealing the air out of your lungs. A phantom brush of his nose against your pulse point, that familiar charming smile haunting against your neck. His annoyingly addicting scent that is tailored to him and him only. Just the mere thought of him has you wrecked.
Suddenly, you take a moment, sniffing the air like a weirdo. You could have sworn you smelt his signature scent. A whiff of the gut wrenching cedary citrus hit you, a chill running straight up your spine. Thereâs no doubt that it's Seungcheol's cologne.Â
An annoyed and pent up sigh left your mouth. Your head falling into your palms as you groaned, trying to clear your head just in case heâs actually lurking around.
His cologne got stronger, the scent haunting you, or maybe you were thinking about him too much. It was like you manifested him into existence.Â
Suddenly, you feel the warmth of someone elses body radiating onto yours.
âCan I sit here?â A smug voice asked, already pulling the chair out to sit besides you.
A wave of his cologne smacked you awake, and you finally peeked through your fingers.
Seungcheol was sitting there, close enough for you to see the droplets of rain on his hair. How his damp shirt accentuated his firm chest, and beads of rain dripping down his defined biceps.
Oh my god. This is truly a sight of sore eyes, you must admit.
âWhat?â A sputtered laugh escaped him, his hand running through his damp hair. The mussed hair made him look even more sexier, making your teeth gritting in annoyance.
âWhat do you want?â You softly groaned out, peeking at him again. Youâre trying to avoid his eyes, especially the fact youâve been thinking about him for the past hour.
âWoah, chill.â Seungcheol breathed out, looking you up and down, almost like he was savoring the sight in front of him. Thatâs weird. Heâs being weird. You feel weird.
You looked around the library, catching his friends goofing off. Theyâre mishandling books, getting their wet clothes on the carpet, and making an awfully loud ruckus in a library. You cringe at the sight of them.
âWhy donât you just go with them?â You asked pointedly, but you completely understand that you wouldnât wanna be seen with idiots like them.
âBecause.â Seungcheol murmured, you could feel his eyes burning holes into you.Â
âOkay, whatever.â You grumbled, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. Your fingers pushed up absently at your bluelight glasses, using this as an excuse to hide your flushing face.
What does he even mean, âbecauseâ? Did he want to hang out with you? Did he see you and decided he wanted your company instead of his close friends? Does he enjoy being around you?
Noâ youâre overthinking all of this. Your friends are right, heâs evil. Heâs just playing games with you right now. Heâs eager to watch how you play the next move.Â
You sighed loudly as you opened up the blank document again, which is a weak attempt to distract yourself.
âHey, at least talk to me.â The pout is so strong in his tone, you couldnât help but laugh in shock.
âExcuse me?â You shamelessly smiled toward him, skeptical at his sulking. Seungcheol did this from time to time with you, but him being sad over not getting your attention? This is a new reaction.
âI wanted to see what you were doing here so late, at least talk to me.â He admitted quietly.
One blink. Two blinks.Â
âOh.â You mumbled out stupidly, like you suddenly forgot how to use your mouth. The soft admission made you burn red like a fool, and just like that, heâs taken a pawn. Seungcheol has you in a vulnerable spot.
âWhat?â A sly smirk curled on the corner of his lips.
Fucking asshole. He knew what he was doing to you, and it seemed to egg him on even more, wanting to elicit more reactions out of you.
âNothing⊠Iâm just finishing up homework.â You murmured, hoping thatâll suffice. You turned your body away again, trying to tell him youâre done playing verbal chess.
âFinishing? Youâve been staring at the same empty doc for the past⊠I donât know, since Iâve been here.â Seungcheol mentioned, his fingers drumming too close to your arms. Your brain immediately rolled in thoughts you should not be thinking about right now.
âHey. Are you even listening?â He sulked again.
âSorry, Iâm so focused, I donât ever hear annoying people talking.â You explained, briefly turning your head to glance at him.
âIâm so not annoying, what are you even talking about?â Seungcheol inched closer. Itâs almost like he knew what his proximity was doing.
He must be doing such bullshit on purpose. He moved his hand besides yours, your forearms parallel. You can feel a tingling sensation as his eyes dragged down your body. Itâs driving you insane, what are his intentions?Â
âYeah? Thatâs the first stage, denial.â You smiled, proud at your effortless and witty comeback.
Seungcheol let out a weak laugh, an audible sign of defeat. Your heart launched into your throat as he leaned in even more, his cologne a familiar punch to your gut, his breath fanning over your exposed arm. Seungcheol is evilâ conniving and evil and so utterly handsomeâ your friends were more than right.
âHar-har, you really got me there.â Seungcheol murmured lowly, his voice sending pathetic shivers up your spine. He was resting his chin on his palm, which brought his face impeccably closer to yours.
He pulled back slowly, keeping his eyes on you. Your stomach launched into your throat, praying that it didnât show on your face.Â
But the way the smirk curled up on those plush lips of his, he clearly saw right through you. He saw how your eyes diverted like skidding mice, the way your knee stopped bouncing for a mere second, he knew you too well to not see it.Â
For a moment you couldnât breathe in the air of tension, you couldnât fathom the thought of his eyes peeling back the layers you spent years putting up. When youâre with him, itâs like a fog-dense maze that never ends. Everytime though, he always found a way to end before you, and won your little mind games.
Thankfully, Seungcheol doesnât comment on it, and you tore your eyes away before they could wander further. You finally occupied yourself with the very much blank document in front of you.
As you typed away, you canât help but feel that heâs closer than before. His body heat made your arm hairs prick up at the sudden warmth.
If this couldnât get any worse, you curiously glance back at him.Â
Heâs already staring. Eyes calculating you before he checkmated your king: your dignity and pride.
A whole body chill struck you, making you snap your head away in urgency. You bit your inner lip to distract you from hysterically screaming, whilst bouncing your knee anxiously once again.Â
He leaned in closer now, his arm near your laptop.Â
âDid I finally get your attention?â Seungcheol hummed, his voice husky and so awfully warm. The tone running you up straight into a spiral.
âFuck off, I came here to study by myself.â You managed to mumble back, it came out more meek than you expected.
âAm I not an exception?â Seungcheol frowned, leaning in impeccably closer, like he wanted you to look at him again. His eyes followed your avoidant ones as his breath mingled with the air you breathe, his whole presence beckoning you.
You werenât stupid, you wouldnât fall for his manipulating acts.Â
âYouâre less than an exception, youâre not even an option.â You bitterly comment as you turn your attention back to your laptop.
He let out a low whistle. âStruck a nerve there, didnât I?â
âI just wanted to be with you.â Seungcheol mumbled, like he was worried the words would land differently.
Okay, you are kind of stupid. You let your eyes reach him again, peeking at him off your right shoulder.
You feel even more stupid, as your heart physically ached when you see him get up. His pointer finger brushing over your knuckle on accident, you hope on accident.Â
âIâll just go if this is the case. See you at home then.â He held your eyes for a beat longer than you expected. It was like he wanted to say more, but was too hesitant.
You didnât notice how your hand bunched up the fabric of your sweats in that weirdly tense moment. His eyes searched yours, desperately almost; it felt like he was trying to read you, but you were a complicated riddle. He walked off with his back towards you and his friends following him like dogs.
âFuck.â You muttered once he was out of earshot, burying your face in your hands.
There goes your hour of concentration. Thanks a lot, Choi Seungcheol.
â
Besides Seungcheol bombarding your mind, your friends, Erika and Jennifer, are blowing up your phone.Â
They keep on sending inspo pictures of group photos they want to take on their digital cameras. They even have your outfit planned out to the tea. Theyâre assigning each other roles to make sure any guy, besides Seungcheol, will talk to you.
A nervous flutter rose to your chest as you thought about the party.
So much for studying, you thought. You packed up, stuffing your laptop with the still empty document. You were heading to Erikaâs house, which was close to the library.
Erika thoroughly explained how sheâs going to do your makeup, and the clothes that she had prepared for you. Pinterest photo after another, youâve realized thereâs no way you can back out now.
Jennifer and Erika ended up arguing on the vibe. Jennifer said chic and simple, nothing too showy or âsluttyâ, but that would be hypocritical⊠as Jenniferâs best friend is a lethal v-cut neckline.Â
Erika strongly pushed for a cowl neckline, with the backless feature. With complimenting tight bootcut jeans that show off the curvature of your ass perfectly. Of course only she would think about what your butt would look like in jeans.Â
Though, they came to a conclusion: a micro skirt, that youâre hundred percent sure your butt will be hanging out of. For the top, they managed to battle it out and decided on a simple black tank, with a lacy bra that is not debatable.Â
â
Your heart beat thrummed through your skin, your fingers anxiously tapped on the vanity. Erika hovered around you like a humming bird with her hands all over your hair. Jennifer is constantly skipping through songs, trying to find the right vibe.Â
An unsettling feeling dwelled in your stomach.Â
Youâre really doing this, you thought. Youâre seriously going to waltz in and flaunt your stuff just to spite Seungcheol. Maybe even kiss another guy, just to show Seungcheol that you donât want him. Your brain is going down a steep spiral about Seungcheol, and you need a way to get out.
âTo be honest guys, I donât even like Seungcheol like that.â You murmured pathetically, hoping thatâll deter the fire burning in their eyes.
âLike, he always sleeps around and⊠you know? It's just I don't like⊠guys like that.â You poorly explained your alibi. It was a futile attempt, sadly earning skeptical looks from them.Â
They all knowâ so do youâ that you can't resist the temptations of Choi Seungcheol. Especially being so sexually frustrated, he is a living wet dream for you.
âExcuses, excuses. At least see this as an opportunity to network and have fun, who knows you might be able to network yourself some dick because youâre such a smooth talker.â Jennifer retorted, smudging her eyeliner.Â
She sat on the floor, hunched over the mirror and still pressing the skip button. How did she even have any skips left? Erika was still busy running around you with a curling iron. She had meticulously done your makeup, enhancing your features and making you look completely brand new.
You had insisted you can do it yourself, but Erika proclaimed sheâs a pro, and she knows what sheâs doing. Which she 100% is a pro, as you can barely recognize yourself, in a good way at least.
âYeah, Jenâs right. Just have fun, donât think about Seungcheol. Plus heâll probably be sucking off someoneâs face anyways, itâll ruin your good vibes.â Erika added as she scrunched the cooling curl.Â
Erika wasnât the best at delivering advice, like Jenniferâs blunt demeanor, but hearing that sentence: âsucking off someoneâs faceâ, made your heart sink. You knew it was granted to happen for him, but hearing it aloud hurt even more. It bubbled in your stomach, just to rise and puncture your aching heart.
It was almost like they sensed it, and on cue Jennifer pulled a big ass bottle of Titoâs vodka out of nowhere.
âWe should pregame, if you donât want to, you donât have toâŠâ Jennifer singed-songed, already pouring herself a shot.
Erika rejected it, and so did you. You rejected because you didnât want to end up wailing about your feelings, and half because youâd end up way drunk before you even arrived.Â
three:
You arrived at the party, the night air nipping at your ankles as you got out. Erika and Jennifer are a couple of steps ahead of you, talking about how theyâre not going to drink too much.
Every step you took was met with a sharp pain in your heels. Your hands constantly tugged down your riding skirt. The awful push up bra you have on is digging straight into your ribs, and you feel too vulnerable with your cleavage out. Your friends keep on urging you to take pictures, but your hair keeps on flying into your lip gloss.Â
You don't fit here, you feel like a shell of your body. Guys are smoking on the front lawn, girls are already stumbling out even though the party has barely started. You can feel the music before hearing it, thrumming quickly through your pulse. You're met with a conglomerate smell of cologne, weed, and alcohol.
What's worse is as soon as you get eaten by the swarm of people, it's like the lights dim and flash on him.
Seungcheol.
He's talking to the girl you remember who he said gave him sloppy head, or was it another girl? Who knows. Though, he doesn't seem too upset about that. His hand automatically found the small of her back, his thumb brushing over the divot right before the curve of her ass.
Your stomach churned uncomfortably as bile bubbled in the back of your throat.Â
His hands are traveling, feeling her, memorizing each dip with the tips of his fingers. A ghost of fingers repeated it on your own frame, your arms wrapped around you sheepishly. Get out of your head, you spoke to yourself.
You involuntarily swallowed as you finally pried your eyes away, you didn't notice how dry your mouth had gotten at the sight of them. Erika looked at you weirdly, tugging on your arm to snap you out of this hypnotized daze.
"Hey, what are you looking at? Hurry, let's get drinks before they all just start tasting like fruit punch and not vodka!" She laughed, her shrill tone dumping the ice cold reality back onto you.
Fuck. You couldn't shake off this gnawing feeling in your stomach. The burning ache in your heart. The indescribable brain fog prevented you from even trying to comprehend how you feel. This isn't jealousy, you painfully remind yourself, you're not even interested in him. He doesn't even want you.
Jennifer placed a drink in your hand, and as she looked away, you've already downed it. The liquid burning down your throat as the alcohol taste sticked on your tongue. You carelessly tossed the cup, groaning at the taste.
"Dude! Are you fucking stupid?" She gaped at you as you wiped the alcohol off your lips.
"I think so." You grumbled back. You get another cup, to occupy your hands for the most part.
Erika and Jennifer keep a wary eye on you, their mouths still ajar in shock.Â
â
To your demise, the alcohol hit you hard. You make up an excuse to leave the jungle of dancing people and flying arms. Finding yourself in the dimly lit kitchen, you take this chance to rest against the counter.
Even with all the heaps of alcohol clouding your brain beyond consciousness, the image of Seungcheol standing so intimately with that girl is etched into your brain. You shivered as a phantom finger traced the curve of your waist. It traveled up slowly, like it was memorizing the exact slope of it.
"Why are you here?" The hand wasn't a ghost. It was Seungcheolâs. He was leaning in, scanning your face intently like you were outlandish. Which wasnât entirely wrong.
A sharp gasp yanked from your chest, the sight of him immediately sobered you up. He has the evil audacity to laugh in your face. His fingers brushed against yours deliberately on the edge of the counter, his left hand holding his cup as he brought it to his lips.
You try not to stare, really, but the way he held eye contact with you as he drank, you couldn't help but watch. You swallow, eyes finally yanking away as soon as you have some decorum.
Seungcheol leaned in again, his cologne making your knees feel like jelly. "Why are you here? This isn't your type of crowd." He asked again while his fingers creeped up onto your tense knuckles, delicately brushing them like he was scared you'll pull away.
"'Cause, I wanted to." You muttered lamely, shamelessly following his touch with your eyes. You watched his fingers brush up your forearms, but you did it mostly to avoid his stare.
"Just 'cause?" Seungcheol teased softly, leaning his head against the cabinets as he looked at you carefully. Almost tenderly. Almost.
"Yeah." The singular word sounded stupidier than you thought.Â
Although, you could care less because youâve already made yourself a fool, for falling in love with someone out of your league.Â
When you look back up at Seungcheol, heâs already staring with an intensity you canât quite put a finger to. Whether it was hunger or perceptive, your skin feels staticky with heat with his eyes on you.
"Whose attention are you trying to get here?" Seungcheol murmured, inching closer, and you pathetically sucked up a breath.
You forget to answer the question, too distracted on how his lips parted when he talked. His words are muddled in the cloud of his cologne and proximity. Your stomach fluttered childishly, and you canât tell if itâs the alcohol, or simply him. He nudged your knee with his as he inched closer, and your eyes snapped back up to his eyes.
"I said, who are you trying to attract? You look too good tonight." You hated how his voice resonated deep in your gut. How you wished he spoke to you more, and spoke only sweet nothings.
You immediately gave him a cold shoulder, because it didnât matter if you looked good or bad, he clearly wasnât interested in you.Â
âNobody in particular.â You admited, but your brain kept on flashing images of Seungcheol with his âgirlfriendsâ, reminding why youâre here.
âOh really? So your skirt is short enough to see your ass just for fun? Hm?â Seungcheol pressed further, his fingertips brushing against yours.
âHm? Clearly itâs paying off.â You retorted, unsure why it sounded so bitter.
âOh?â Seungcheol cocked an eyebrow that made your knees almost buckle in. He manuevered to stand in front of you, caging you in against the counter.Â
You bite back the gasp that threatened to escape, but he heard your breath hitching. His cologne jumped into your lungs, and infiltrated your mind. His fingers gripped onto the counter beside you, and you didnât notice how white his knuckles are. Seungcheol held your eyes with an intensity youâve never seen before, and fuck, you wanted to see it more often.
âI saw when you arrived. Way before you even looked at me. Way before I evenâ even talked to that girl.â Seungcheol admitted quietly, intimately.
âI saw the way you looked at us.â He murmured, leaning in closer making his voice rumbling in your chest.
âSo? You know I hate public display of affection.â You grumbled back, leaning away by the slightest.
âI know.â He stated simply and clearly.
âOkay, if you know, then thatâs your answer to my reaction.â You blatantly excuse.
A beat passed, making anxiety bubble in your chest.Â
âYouâre jealous.âÂ
Your facade faded immediately like shattered glass. Those two simple words that escaped his lips dug right into your gut. Seungcheol saw the truth flash in your eyes, and like an instant, his face softened.
âAm I right?â Seungcheol said with a slight smile.
âYou wish.â You scoffed in retort, turning your head away.
âYouâre lying, plus it doesnât suit you anyways.â He leaned in, tilting your head up with his pointer finger.
âDonât lie to me.â He whispered over your lips, your hands jumping at your sides.
âSeungcheolââ you attempted to protest, confused and exactly where you wanted to be.
âWhy? Why do you do this all the time? Do you think Iâm shallow?â Seungcheol held your face with his fingers, stroking your lower lip gently with his thumb. Your breathing picked up at his words, and his implications. You thought you hid your emotions well, that you didnât care if Seungcheol slept around. Clearly, he saw right through you.
âWell,â you started, but your throat dried up, and you canât bring yourself to admit it.
Admit that youâve been daydreaming about him doing things to you, youâd rather die than say such words.
âWell, whatever you're thinking about, stop it.â Seungcheol sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. He dropped his hand from your face, and moved them to your sides.Â
Ever so briefly squeezing your hips before wrapping his arms around your waist. You see him shut his eyes, his lashes brushing over the soft skin.
Your brain short circuited at the touch, your hands jumping to his chest. His breath is mingling with yours, his arms feel heavier than you imagined, and god⊠you love it.
âIâve been walking on eggshells around you.â Seungcheol confessed gently, his body leaning into yours like heâs seeking your comfort. His admission explained why heâs been ignoring you recently.
âI donât know how else to approach you⊠but to do thisâŠâ He gestured by squeezing you flush against the firm wall of his chest.
âTo at least show you that I like you.â Seungcheol whispered, his eyes fluttered open to catch your widened ones.
âMe?â You stupidly asked.
âYou,â Seungcheol answered tenderly, âof course you. Youâre so admirable. YouâŠâ He sighed, squeezing his arms around you tighter.Â
Seungcheol groaned as he buried his face into your neck, making you shiver at the sensation of his breath. Itâs ticklish at first, but melded into a soft reminder of his presence.
âYouâre so smart, determined, and so perfect in so many ways.â Seungcheol professed, pulling his head out from your neck.
âBut you pull away so oftenâ Iâm worried if I come off too strong, or you think Iâm a horrible person. But I can understand why.â He stated clearly, holding your eyes with unspoken desire.
Youâre at a loss for words with a lump in your throat. All Seungcheol did was smile, and it painfully made your heart lurch at how bad you want him. Forget what your friends said, forget disappointment, you want Seungcheol so bad every nerve in your body is jumping to his touch.
âWhat? You have this look, like youâre seeing a ghost.â Seungcheolâs lips hovered dangerously over yours, his hands cupping your soft cheeks. His thumb stroked over your cheekbone, feeling your skin burn hot under his touch.
âJust⊠Iâm just shocked.â You sputtered out, to at least speak a coherent sentence. Your eyes darted between his lips and eyes, and he smirked at the small gesture.Â
âAbout what?â A cheeky smile grew on his lips, like he knew this was going to be your reaction.Â
âThat a guy like me is into a girl like you?â Seungcheol leaned in, and with the motion he removed his arms from your waist. They traveled to the counter behind you, caging you in and pressing his hips against yours.
It ellicted a gasp from your lips, with a jolt of arousal blooming between your legs. He mentally took note of your reaction, his teeth sinking down in his lower lip to restrain himself.
âIs it that?â Your eyes snapped up to meet his. Seungcheolâs head is tilted down to meet yours.Â
You look down at his lips, hoping he didnât notice. In which, he very much did. Another smug smirk grew on his face as his hand came to tilt your chin up.
âTell me, whatâs so shocking about me liking you?â His words swirled in your gut, especially the way his eyes held yours with desire.Â
âIâ Itâs not⊠as simple as you think.â You managed to speak. Your brain and heart were a puddle; your morals are gone, as you just follow this feeling of warmth youâve dreamt about.
âIt isnât?â Seungcheol mused. Those simple words have your knees shaky, and you swear your heart is beating so fast itâs visible against your chest.
He pressed a finger right in the middle of your forehead. âYour big, beautiful brain must be complicating it, huh?â Seungcheol smiled all knowingly, and somehow you found yourself laughing.
An even bigger smile grew on his lips at the sweet noise. Seungcheolâs heart swelled with an unfamiliar fondness at the sight. He wanted to memorize the way your eyes crinkled and your smile lines deepened with your laugh. Most importantly, he wanted to be the one making you laugh.
âWhat? Am I right for once?â He wrapped his arm around your waist again, bringing your chest flush against his. The smile didnât fade from his lips, almost like he was trying to bask in the bubbly mood you were in.
âMaybe.â You shook your head in disbelief, finally meeting his eyes with confidence.
Silence fell over the both of you. Either in agreement or understanding, but a mutual feeling floated between you two.
âI wanna hear more.â Seungcheol admitted, stroking your cheekbone with unexpected tenderness.
âMâŠmore about what?â Your cheeks burn under his touch, his other hand squeezing your hip.
âAbout whatâs going on in that head of yours.â Seungcheolâs hand slid up your spine, wracking a shiver out of you. He pressed your body taut against his, trying to dissapate the space. It worked increasingly well, as the room felt small, that it was just you and him.
âGod no, itâd be so embarrassing to admit aloud. To you.â You laugh weakly, your hands deciding to travel on his chest. Firm muscle is all you can feel under your palms, and heâs clearly enjoying the attention.Â
âReally? What is it? You think about me in a certain way?â Seungcheol asked while raising a knowing eyebrow.
Your eyes blinked wider, and an immediate blush grew on your cheeks. Your hands froze their travel on his chest and landed on his shoulders to ground yourself.
All he does is laugh, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Seungcheol found you so unbearably cute, pulling back out to look at you with a gummy smile.
âIâm right again, arenât I?âÂ
âFuck off, seriously.â You groaned out, maneuvering out of his arms to escape Seungcheolâs teasing scrutiny. He almost let you, grabbing onto your wrist once you're an arms length away.
âWhy?â He whined, tugging you back. âLet's go back home. Leave this stupid party.â
You know what his intentions are, you know damn well.Â
And of course you're going to say yes.
â
Youâre sheepishly toeing off your kitten heels, feeling shy with his eyes on you for what felt like ages. Youâre unsure why heâs staring, but it made your skin flush from your cheeks to your neck.
âWhat?â You mumbled out, feeling out of place.
âNothing.â Seungcheol smiled, walking towards you once your heels are finally off.
His hands are back on your body, your heart leaping into your throat. Your eyes expectantly darted over the expanse of his face. He cupped your cheeks, grounding you with the warmth of his palm.
âCan I kiss you?â Seungcheol quietly asked, tilting your head up to meet his lips.
A shaky exhale left your lips as you nod mutely, your hands sliding up his chest. A silent gesture that you want him as bad as he wants you.
Without a second word his lips surged and chased after yours.Â
You struggled to keep up with his pace, his hands and mouth all over you. Seungcheol walked you back towards his bedroom, his hands sneaking under your skirt to grab a handful of your ass. In response, you yelped at the sudden sensation of Seungcheolâs hands kneading at your globes, and clamped your thighs around his hand once his ring finger rubbed the hem of your wet panties.Â
Seungcheol pried your legs open and wrapped them around his waist, and you easily complied, tightening your legs as he carried you. His hands shoving your shirt under your bra, feeling the slope of your waist and the warmth you're burning.
âGod, you donât wanna know the things I wanted to do when I first saw you.â Seungcheol groaned into your lips.Â
You gasped for air, and he easily took it away. Each kiss was going breath for breath, and you couldnât complain. His teeth dragging down your lower lip, his tongue sliding against yours languidly. You curl into his touch, utterly wrecked and dying for more. You can barely respond with his tongue in your mouth. The way he worked it made you feel all fluttery and lightheaded.Â
His hands roamed the expanse of your skin, feeling how your pulse jumped whenever he deepened the kiss. Seungcheol gripped onto you like this was a dream, and he was just trying to ground himself.
A shiver wracked your body as his lips found their way to your neck. His breath tickling your neck just as you imagined, your hands clutching onto his shirt helplessly in response.
"Seungcheol-" you pant out at the sensation. He placed soft, wet kisses along your neck and collarbone.
He hummed against your skin, relishing how your voice vibrated against his lips. He dragged his tongue up the slope of your neck, savoring your perfume and the salty taste of your skin. Seungcheolâs nose nuzzled against your pulse point before nipping and sucking at it. Your breath hitched, your hands gripping on his shoulders to ground yourself.
"I need you to say my name more often." He mouthed into your skin, nipping and sucking a blooming hickey. âIt sounds good from your lips.â He mused, pulling back to look at your flushed face.
Your kiss-bitten lips make you even more irresistible. The reddening hickey on your collar was deepening, and a rush of pride flooded through Seungcheolâs system.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled you into his lap, pressing his hips up shamelessly. A hot rush flooded your body, your hips jumping in shock, but still dragged along his cock in response. Your eyes blew open in shock, but he just groaned into your neck. He bucked the bulge of his dick right against your clit with a desirable precision, yanking out a sharp gasp from you. A jolt of pleasure made your body shiver, and writhe against his movements.Â
"Gonna make you feel so good. So fucking good." His voice was husky and strained. Unable to stop his rutting like a horny teenager, but the way you gasped and rolled your hips when he did, he couldn't hold back. The rough material of his jeans dug into the thin fabric of your panties has you mewling. Youâre too distracted to cover your noises, and fuck, he rolled his hips harder to ellict a sharp gasp from your lips.
"Ah- fuck, Seungcheol." You stammered out, trying to ignore the blossoming heat and ache when he rubbed his hips up. He did it slowly and deliberately, dragging it against your needy clit. Your brain already was blanking with the coiling pleasure in your stomach.
"Do you feel how bad I want you?" Seungcheol removed his head away from your neck, his hands gliding on your sides. He played with the bunched up fabric of your tank, admiring how disheveled you looked from his simple ministrations.
You nod, your lips in a tight line of restraint. He can see the way your teeth sink into your lower lip, and you noticed Seungcheol hasn't even looked you in the eye once.
His attention was fully on your mouth, how your lips have a wet sheen of spit, and have that red look after kissing you so intensely, how he pulled out moans after moans.
"I canât fucking hold back anymoreâŠ" He breathed out, his lips on your skin, rolling his hips again. You can't help but chase after that feeling, grinding back onto him. He groaned in response, his eyes glinting with something dark. His hands squeezed your hips to stop you, or well, to stop himself.
"Let me be inside you. Mouth, finger, dick, whatever you want baby." Seungcheolâs breathing labored, like he's holding back his true power.
The way heâs looking at you like a goddess, like a deity, has you melting into his lap. Your hips weakly squirming on his lap, missing the friction. He weakly laughed, kissing your cheek, and easily rolled his hips back up in a slow movement.
"Should I just take my time with you? Find what you like, since it's your first, hm?" Seungcheol nipped at your jaw, kissing your cheek.
Your stomach flipped as his words were an awful reminder. Yes, this was your first, but it wouldn't be the first time you wished Seungcheol would fuck you so dumb, you would forget your own name. His hands squeezed your hips, as his sneaky fingers dipped into your waistband hesitantly as he waited for you to answer.Â
"Yeah- yeah... whatever you... wanna do to me." You mumbled out embarrassingly, and you can see the groan being yanked from his chest. Seungcheolâs eyes fell shut as he buried his face into your chest. He took a deep breath of your scent, nipping at your skin to hide the second groan.
"Fuck..." He practically moaned, his brain working overtime to even process a sane thought.
"Why would you say that?" He whispered, his breath hot against your prickled skin.
"I want that." You murmured, cupping his face to look at you again. That does it. His eyes are glinting with pure adrenaline and desire. He kissed you hard, breathless and hungry.
This wasn't like any kiss you had before, they were always tentative and timid. This kiss is fueled with desire and pure lust as his teeth crash against yours carelessly. There was practically no air between you two, with his nose smashed against your cheek. His hands gripping you with a tightness that'll leave you with bruises, that you are more than thankful for.
He flipped you in his lap so easily, it made your brain spin at his sheer strength. His breath tickled your ear as you pressed your back against his chest.
"If you want it so bad, baby, then watch me do it." He whispered into your ear, and fuck, your thighs clamped immediately.Â
He let out a laugh, âNot so confident now, are you?âÂ
He nipped at the shell of your ear as he cooed sweet nothings, not helping the already soaked part in your panties. He pried your legs back open like he owned them, his fingers rubbing circles into your clammy inner thighs.
His fingertips alone on your skin have you already squirming and feeling hot. You've spent too many nights dragging your fingers along your body, wishing it was Seungcheol's instead.
"Baby, watch." He whined gently, prodding his nose against your cheekbone.Â
Your eyes shoot up to the floor length mirror in front of you. It's dim in his room, but the bedside lamp illuminated the room more than enough.Â
You can see how much bigger Seungcheol is than you, how he has his whole body draped over you. The light showed each shadow of his muscle on his biceps, making his jaw sharp as he whispered praises. And most importantly the bulge of his thick cock tucked in his pants. You simply shake your head, swallowing your dry mouth at the thought of his dick.
"Are you watching?" Seungcheol murmured, his hands trailing your body slowly, giving you no idea where he'll put them.
He took his time, kissing your neck while memorizing each crook, each shiver, each gasp he took out when he touched a sensitive part. Seungcheol pulled your shirt off, tossing it away like it was covered in acid. His hand stroked your stomach, and went to take off your bra. He unclasped it with a familiar precision that made your heart twist. He must have done it regularly to do it with such ease. His actions immediately shut up your thoughts, as he circled your aerola with his pointer finger.
The soft, ghost-like sensation has you squirming pathetically. He smiled wickedly, kissing and licking the shell of your ear.
His breath fanned cold against your damp skin, your hands balling up into fists at the feeling.Â
âFeel good?â He murmured, his voice rumbling in your chest.
You helplessly nod, your hips flexing for any pressure on your weepy cunt. He took note of it, but did nothing to help you, enjoying the way you withered under his touch so easily. Seungcheol continued to drag his pointer finger languidly around your hardening nipple, never really touching it.
Heat pooled in between your legs, everything feeling fuzzy from the alcohol and adrenaline. It enhanced the way the rough pad of his thumb brushed over your nipple at a torturous pace. That simple gesture made you writhe under his touch so easily. His other hand ran down your stomach, making it flex in anticipation.Â
He stopped right at the waistband of your skirt, his breathing surprisingly even against your cheek.
âYou see how beautiful you are?â Seungcheol practically purred, admiring how wrecked you already look.Â
Seungcheol brushed your stomach with his thumb, playfully dipping his nail into your navel before toying with the band of your skirt. He eventually took it off, leaving you in only your panties.
âSay yes.â He murmured, nipping at your jaw. At first, your throat seemingly didnât work. But when he returned his fingers to roll and tug at your hardened nub between his pointer and thumb, a sharp gasp yanked from your lips.Â
âY-yes.â You breathed out shakily, still lust-clouded. He noted how your stomach caved in the mirror at the touch, a sly grin growing on his lips.
âSuch a good girl. You listen so well.â He praised quietly.
His hand dipped past your waistband, making you tense in anticipation. His fingers applied pressure past your bladder, down to your mons pubis, massaging down there for a moment. You whined impatiently, making Seungcheolâs smirk ghost on your cheek. The sudden pressure on your clit made your thighs twitch, his lips kissing your neck to distract you.Â
Slowly, he coaxed out moans from your lips. The pad of his finger rubbed the sensitive nub in circles. His hand returned back to toy with your hardened nipple, flicking it lightly compared to the pressure on your clit. The touch on your puffy clit has you withering so easily. The noises of pleasure push at your bitten lips, and it just pet Seungcheolâs ego.Â
Heâs the one doing this to you, heâs the one watching you unravel, heâs the one.
His finger left your chest and tapped your jaw, returning your attention back to your face in the mirror. Heâs already watching you squirm in his lap with heavy lidded eyes.
âDonât take your eyes off.â Seungcheol commanded, pressing harder on your clit and making you jump. âIâll show you who knows this pussy the best.â
His words of promise made you pathetically whimper. Seungcheol smirked at your reaction, keeping his cheek pressed against your, making sure you watched him. Seungcheol ran two fingers down your weepy folds, smearing your arousal around.Â
âGodâ so wet already.â He kissed your temple, a stark tender gesture.
You can only whimper in response, already flooded with pleasure that buzzed under your skin. Seungcheol pressed a digit against your entrance, spreading your slick onto your puffy folds. His thumb worked on your achy, needy clit; watching you with hungry eyes through the mirror.Â
Your hands balled up the material of his jeans to steady yourself in the pool of pleasure. You canât help but shut your eyes, and relish the feeling. He already has you gasping and mewling at the sensation like a needy little thing.
His finger tapped on your jaw again, your eyes snapping back to the mirror. You were so lost in the sensation, you forgot to abide by his rule.
Suddenly, Seungheolâs hand goes still, making your hips twitch needily. An upset whine fell from your lips, and he just tapped on your jaw again, a silent reminder.
âW-what? What happenedâŠâ You helplessly pant out, confused and so utterly horny. Your core aches at the loss of him, a throbbing ghost-like sensations on your clit.
âBaby, I said watch.â Thereâs a demanding grit to his tone that sent a shiver up your spine. So scarily so, it made you swallow thickly in panic, and nod.
âY-yes. Okay, I- I will.â You responded back, so eager to please and to get pleased.
âSay it.â Seungcheol stated bluntly, earning a dumbfounded look from you.
âSay⊠say what?â
âSay what you want from me.â He rephrased, his thumb rubbing lazily on your clit. The touch made you whimper, and he immediately pulled back, wanting to hear you plead.
You flushed a deep pink, and he simply smiled. Those annoyingly charming dimples deepened, making you whine in protest.
âBeg you mean?â You groaned at the thought.
âShould I have said that in the first place? Did you want me to say: beg for how badly you want my fingers inside this wet pussy?â He mused, that shit eating grin never leaving his lips. Seungcheolâs clearly enjoying the way you squirm and blush at the sight of him touching you with your panties on.
You tensed up at his words, your pussy aching so desperately now. You could have sworn he felt the hot trickle of arousal drip down your thighs, making him smirk all knowingly.
âNoâ no⊠I understood.â You scrambled to say, trying to grapple back your dignity.
âThen beg.â He sternly commented, his voice was low against your ear. Your body shivering at the thought of his touch.
âPlease⊠please I need your fingers.â You pathetically attempted, your eyes stuck on him in the mirror.Â
âWhere, baby?â Seungcheol tugged down your panties and tossed them carelessly, baring your hot folds to the air.
âIn⊠inside me.â You answered meekly, hoping thatâll be enough.
âGood job, beautiful.â Seungcheol murmured, not needing another word as his fingers were already working again. His pointer finger left your jaw, hoping youâll behave this time.
His lips returned to the sensitive spot he found earlier, Seungcheolâs hands trailed down your stomach which made you twitch in anticipation. Your weepy cunt is getting his jeans all wet, so Seungcheol manuevered your legs, hooking them over his forearms. Your glossy folds are exposed in the mirror, the light glinting against your arousal.
âArenât you so fucking gorgeous? Spread open just for me, huh?â Seungcheol remarked as his pointer figner traveled down to spread your folds open.Â
He rubbed his middle finger along your slit, and went back up to draw circles around your clit. A shaky exhale escaped your lips at the gentle, tentative touch. He hummed, pressing his lips against your cheek, nipping at the skin for your attention. You understood what he wanted, and turned your head to meet his lips.Â
The pad of his finger rubbed on your entrance, and you couldnât take it anymore, rutting against it helplessly. He finally slid it inside, curling upwards and immediately finding the sweet spot. A sharp gasp left your lips, and he swallowed it hungrily in the kiss.
Pleasure coiled tightly in your stomach, as he relentlessly rubbed his finger against that spongy point. His thumb pressed rhythmically against your clit, making you squirm and writhe in his grip.
He pulled away from the kiss, âWatch baby.â Seungcheol painstakingly reminded you, but continued thrusting and curling his finger against that spot.Â
It felt impossible to focus on anything else but the delicious pleasure heâs giving you. But you didnât want him to stop, so your eyes dragged back to the mirror.
The sight of his digit, knuckle deep inside you, has you dripping even more. You watch how his digit slid into your slicked cunt with no resistance. With a second finger in, you didnât last long. The way they curled against your slick walls and pressed incessantly against a spot has you seeing stars. Your stomach already grew taut with pleasure ready to snap.
The sound of his fingers moving in and out your dripping entrance were matching up with each gasp and whine that escaped you. Your hips bucked and twitched everytime Seungcheol deliberately pressed on that spongy spot inside you.
âClose?â He asked, but he knew the damn answer. He just wanted you to admit it, that heâs the one making you come.
You nod sharply, âYesâ nghâ coming-â you pathetically rasped out.
Seungcheol doubled his efforts, his lips attacking your neck, as his digits thrusted and pressed harder against your sweet spot. The sensation is overwhelming as pleasure hit you in waves. He worked harder to pull out gasps and whines, relentlessly abusing your g-spot with attention.
Your moans died on your tongue as you clamped around him tightly. A rush of pleasure wracking your body as you tensed up on his lap. Your release spilled onto his jeans, leaving an even bigger wet spot than before. He watched you come undone with a hungry glint, rubbing your clit as you came down.Â
He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, making your orgasm feel all fluttery and warm.Â
âSuch a good job, you came so beautifully.â He cooed and dropped your limp legs, tilting your head to meet his lips.
The kiss was slow and rewarding, your pants being swallowed by his groans.Â
Once you two pulled away, he lifted you up effortlessly, and laid you on your back.Â
It was his turn to take off his clothes. As he tugged off his shirt, your wandering hands fumbled to pull off his jeans.
He laughed at how cute you were, with that face of determination but yet frustration. Eventually, he kicked off his jeans and boxer in one smooth motion.Â
Now that he was fully naked, something wasnât adding up. His dick laid against a patch of trimmed hair, way smaller than you imagined. Your brain was straining, and replaying the shrill moans the girls he was fucking.
âYouâre smaller than I thought.â The words fell off your tongue before you could register.Â
He raised an eyebrow up, and settled between your thighs. He scanned your face one more time, to find any sarcasm, but your confusion was genuine. Maybe you had too high of expectations, but heâs standing tall at around four or five inches.
Noting that you were very serious, Seungcheol laughed. A proud smile on his lips, âIt wonât feel that small.âÂ
Your stomach fluttered at his retort. He leaned in close enough his breath was fanning over your ear.
âSee for yourself.â Seungcheol reached out for your hand, guiding it to his cock.Â
You tenatively stroked your hand around his length, squeezing before you dragged it back up. He groaned in response, urging you to do more.
Before you know it, his cock laid fully erect, and⊠looked like a fucking weapon. The puzzle pieces finally clicked in your head, he was a fucking grower.
Your lips part in shock, and all he does is smile. He slides his cock against your sticky folds, gathering up your arousal to coat his length.
âWhy are you so quiet now? Hm?â He prodded, pressing his tip against your entrance. Seungcheol continued the action, sliding his cock through your slick folds, making sure it caught at your puckered entrance.
âAhâ didnâtâ I didnât expect that.â You mumbled out, squirming as he continued to rub his tip on your entrance.
âYou didnât? Seungcheol hummed, tilting his head as he dragged his cock through your folds, purposefully tapping the tip on your clit.Â
You gasp, your legs squeezing his sides from the direct pressure on your sensitive clit. Seungcheol does it again, and again until you finally sputter out helplessly.
âNoâ no I didnât.â You scrambled to say, your mind already stirring with pleasure. You helplessly pushed your hips up, and he stopped the attention on your clit.
He tutted, spreading your legs wider with his thighs, and used his thumbs to expose your dripping pussy.
âLook at this greedy thing⊠Soaking wet and I havenât even put my cock in you yet.â He mused, his thumb rubbing next to where you really need him.Â
You bite your lower lip, trying to restrain yourself from saying or doing anything crazy. You wanted to be good for him.
âDoes your pussy want my dick?â Seungcheol pushed his thumb inside, pressing on your walls.Â
A sharp moan escaped your lips, your thighs twitching at the sudden touch. Seungcheol used his thumb to open you wider, holding the head of his cock against your fluttering hole.
âAnswer me.â Seungcheol said firmly, his thumb insistently rubbing on a spot that makes your words catch in your throat.
âYesâ god- please. Seungcheol, I want it.â You gasped out.
âWant what? Use your words, I know youâre a smart girl.âÂ
A dark blush grew on your cheeks, still squirming as his thumb rubbed against your gummy walls.Â
âI want⊠your cock, please.â You begged pliantly.
He groaned at your words, kissing you deeply before removing his thumb.
He broke the kiss to press his forehead against yours, and slowly pushed himself in. The stretch burned, making you clamp around him, a strangled gasp escaping your lips. He kissed your noises away, trying to distract you.
He pulled away to latch his lips against your nipple, making your arch unexpectedly into his mouth. His free hand pinched the other hardened peak, and took the chance to slide a couple inches deeper.
âRelax for me, promise, Iâll make you feel good.â He murmured, capturing your lips once again in a hazy tangle.
Every small thrust Seungcheol made, created your body to go rigid, your lips parting in a ghost of a moan.
âDoing okay?â Seungcheol asked with attentive eyes, his hands sliding along your body appreciatively.
You managed to nod, flushing under his stare.
His control was slipping slightly, from the way you were gripping onto him so tightly whenever he moved, Seungcheol couldnât take it anymore.
With a bit of his cock left, he filled you up to the hilt, a gasp yanking from your lips. You felt so full, the wind was knocked out of you, and you can feel each vein throbbing against your velvet walls.
Seungcheol rolled his hips, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. He kissed your neck, his hands stroking along your frame. The pleasure is already building up in your stomach, and your skin burned hot when he started whispering sweet praises into your ear.
âFuck- you feel so good.â Seungcheol groaned, slowly dragging his cock along your fluttering walls.
His hands roamed on your body, his lips met your jaw as he continued the relentless grinding. With his experimental rolls, he found a spot that made you gasp and clench around him. An immediate smirk grew on his face as he deliberately rolled his hips into that spot.Â
âRight here? Does it feel good?â Seungcheol pulled back, continuing to rut his hips into that spot. He watched your face contort blissfully with pleasure.
âAh- yesâ fuck, Seungcheol!â You sobbed out as he dragged his cock back before slamming back in, hitting even deeper.
Your pussy gushed with arousal around his length, his hands holding you by your hips and his thumbs dug into your bladder. Your back arched as the pleasure struck you like a lightning bolt, your vision going bleak.
You immediately clamped around him at the pressure, making him groan lowly. He pounded into you a bit faster, pulling you down on his cock quicker.
âFuck, your pussy is sucking on my cock so greedily.â Seungcheol grimaced, trying to hold himself back.Â
 âDo you need more, hm? Can you take more, baby?â He pulled back before slamming in deeper, and grinding the head of his cock against your g-spot.
A sharp cry yanked from your lips, his thumbs returning the pressure on your bladder. He simply rolled his hips against that spot incessantly.
âPoor baby canât even speak, can you?â He leaned down, his lips hovering over yours. Seungcheol massaged your stomach again, feeling you clamp down on his cock desperately.
He smirked, crashing his lips against yours as he picked up the pace. Fucking you with renewed energy that has you shifting up the bed.Â
Pleasure struck your body hard, your clit throbbing painfully as he pressed on your bladder harder.
âC-close-â Is all you can croak out, your brain long gone due to the sheer pleasure fogging your senses.
That one word is the only thing Seungcheol needs before he fucked you precisely into the same spot, making you shout and moan his name. His free hand pinching your clit, making you clamp even tighter around his girthy cock. His other hand stayed flat, applying pressure on your bladder.
âYâ gonna squirt for me? Show me, baby, show how good Iâm making you feel.â Seungcheol punctuated his words with his thrusts, the heel of his palm digging straight into your bladder, making you sob out.
That was all it took, and you squirted with a shout. Your juices flooding down your thighs and jumping to your stomach. Seungcheolâs thrusts were getting sloppy at how tight you were sucking onto him, wet squelching noises filling the room. Tears of pleasure streaking down your perfect makeup as you arching into his chest. Seungcheol grunted as you desperately milked his cock, but he held back, trying to lengthen your orgasm.Â
Once you were shaking and squealing after every shallow thrust, he pulled out and crashed his lips against yours. His tongue felt hot as it dragged along yours, you helplessly stuck your tongue back to reciprocate, still floating from the post orgasm.
Your brain was lightheaded as Seungcheol took away your breath with the kiss, and as he swallowed each pant and plea from your plush lips. Seungcheol manhandled your limp body and flipped you onto all fours with ease.Â
âTell me if it's too much, âkay? Gonna fuck you stupid. Gonna show you who really owns this pussy. Sounds good?â Seungcheol spread your legs with his knees, and tugged your ass cheeks apart to reveal your puffy, swollen pussy.
He spanked your clit with his fingers. You jolt at the sensation, a shaky cry escaping your lips. The pain made your core drip at the sting, the rush of adrenaline made your skin feel staticky. You dreamt of this, his roughness and experience, making you tip over the edge, feeling absolutely wrecked.Â
âNgh- please-â You pant, burying your face into the pillows that smell like his cologne and scalp. You helplessly pushed up your hips and he groaned, harshly rubbing on your clit.
âYou want that, huh?â He smirked, continuing to press cruelly on your clit. You're too orgasm-dazed, but you know you need him inside again. You weakly can imagine the way his cock dragged against your fluttery walls, your cunt dripping and gaping around nothing.
You nod erratically into the pillows with incoherent mumbles, pushing up your hips desperately. He groped the round of your ass, rutting his cock into your folds and gathered slick once again. After whining impatiently and rolling your hips back, he laughed and complied.
He aligned his cock back with your entrance, and pushed back in with one full thrust.
A sharp sob yanked out from your chest, your body arching to accommodate his length.Â
âFuck⊠look at you, so greedy still. Even made you come twice and you're still as fucking tight.â He pulled back, thrusting in an inch each time. He pulled out further, and harshly thrusted back in, earning a whine from you.
âTrust me, baby, Iâll make you beg me to stop.â Those words made you groan, nodding absently at that promise.
All he does is chuckle, gripping onto your hips so tight, youâre sure itâll bruise. At first he moved slowly, searching for a spot thatâll make you gasp. He leaned over, kissing your exposed neck, down the column of your spine. When he rutted his hips deeper, a sharp, guttural moan escaped you, your body arching back onto his desperately.Â
âNghâ fuckâ there, Seungcheol.â You rasped out, hands digging into the bedsheets.
âI got you, baby.â He placed open-mouthed kisses down your back. He started picking up the pace, and he pulled out to slam straight into the spot that makes you see stars.Â
At some point, each thrust was straight at that toe-curling spot. Your vision went bleak from the pleasure, then a sharp cry coming from your lips as he spanked your right cheek.Â
The tingling sensation amplifying the way his hips slapped against your ass with each thrust. His hand soothed over the blooming red spot, âToo much?â He checked in.
You shook your head, babbling something incoherent afterwards, too lost in the pleasure. He groaned, kneading your plush ass before fucking you faster.Â
âToo fucked out to respond, youâre so cute.â Seungcheol mumbled, more to himself, as his hands glided along your body appreciatively.
A sharp whine escaped your lips, your body arching like a cat as you buried your face into his pillows.Â
Your sobs are muffled against the pillow, but he can make out: ââm coming- âm closeâ!â
He wrapped his arm around your neck, lifting you up slightly in a chokehold. His bicep flexed around your head, holding you up right and higher to pound into you deeper.
He grunted behind his bitten lip, giving you more.Â
âCome on baby, come for me.â He huffed, pounding into you harder, deeper.
Your lips part, in a ghost of a moan, your body going taut before your legs slightly give up.Â
You start shaking when he doesnât pull out, instead his free hand wrapped around your torso, pulling you flush against his chest. He tightens his chokehold around your head, your cheeks being squished by his muscles.
You swear you see heaven when he briefly adjusted the pressure to your throat. Your pussy spasming, and dripping like a fucking faucet.
âShitâ baby, youâre so fucking messy.â He grimaced, using his other free hand to hook under your knee.
Stars prick your vision at how deep heâs going, the overstimulation bringing you close to another impending orgasm. Your sloppy cunt took his cock like it was meant for him, the wet squelching noises filling the room along with the rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin. You clamped around his cock helplessly, gasping his name like a prayer and clutching onto his bicep.
Tears brink your glazed over eyes, his teeth sinking down onto your shoulder, insinuating his upcoming orgasm.Â
âDonât hold back baby,â He rasped out, fucking into deep spots, you never knew could be reached in sex, in this new position.
You let out a pitiful sob, throwing your head back against his shoulder and he groaned as your tight heat gushed around him. He continued to thrust deeper, chasing his orgasm with intensity.
Your body shook, your head blank as all you can think about is how his cock is destroying you in half.Â
He finally came with a grunt, his teeth digging into your shoulder hard enough to break the skin. His release painted your walls white with the ropes of cum, as he filled you to the brim.Â
He let you down slowly and carefully, pulling out once he finished coming.
Your brain was foggy, but you felt how he kissed your cheek tenderly before leaving the bed, making the mattress shift under the loss of his weight.
Seungcheol came back with a warm, wet towel, and adjusted you on your back. He comfortably set a pillow under your head and lower back.
âHey, are you doing okay? Was I too rough?â He cupped your face, wiping away the tears on his cheek.
All you did was nod, your throat felt stripped after screaming from pure pleasure. You can see a smile growing on his lips, and he settled between your legs, wiping away the mixture of liquids.
âJust you waitâ gonna do something.â He murmured, more to himself because youâre already dozing off.
â
You wake up in new sheets, new clothes, and⊠a new warmth that doesnât come from the blanket.
Itâs Seungcheol.
The weight of his arm draped over you is comforting, and itâs something you could get used to. Your eyes fluttered back shut, relishing the morning sun on your face.Â
Seungcheol shifted beside you, his arm on your waist moved up, and he pulled you in closer.
âSore?â He asked, his voice heavy with sleep.
âYeah⊠really sore.â You let out a weak laugh, and when you flutter your eyes open again, youâre met with a sulking Seungcheol.
âIâm sorry.â He mumbled, showering kisses all over your face in compensation.
âNoâ I⊠I really liked it. Like feeling⊠spent.â You admitted, and he wished you didnât.Â
âBaby, whyâŠâ He whined as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.
You kind of wondered what Seungcheol would be like after sex, and you're more than thankful heâs clingy.
âItâs the truth.â You mumbled, stroking his brown locks.
âOkay, as long as you donât lie to me.â He pulled back to look you in your eyes.
You smiled automatically at the sight of him, and he physically softened, returning you with a gummy smile.
He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, âHey, thanks for letting⊠me be your first.âÂ
The admission was quiet, hesitant almost, but he looked shy more than anything.
âOh. ThatâŠâ The same smile stuck on your face, and you cupped his puffed up cheeks with a tenderness he didnât expect. His eyes slightly widening when he met your sweet, crinkled at the corner, eyes.Â
âI wouldnât want anyone else to be my first.â You murmured, brushing your finger over his eyebrow.
âWell, Iâm honored.â He grinned, kissing the corner of your lips, then the corner of your eye.
You can now admit, that sex with Seungcheol is fucking heavenly, but only you can say that the morning after, is even better.
a/n2: thank you for finishing this fic!!! hopefully you can taste my blood sweat and tears in it.... i'm also so thankful to the positive feedback i got on my teaser, it really motivated me to write. so thank you guys for being so supportive! sorry if i missed anyone in the taglist!! its not a personal thing... this was all stressful for me lmfao so please... cut me some slack.
