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deekaye · 3 months

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all roads lead back to you | c.sc (scoups)

(where you take an annual cabin trip with your friends and your ex decides to join this year)

pairing: ex!seungcheol (scoups) x f!reader genre: exes to lovers | angst, smut rating: explicit - minors DNI word count: ~10.6k warnings: these are exes and the relationship ended badly, but we're healing, drinking, midnight kisses, reader is mentioned as wearing a skirt & tights, making out, seungcheol picks reader up, body worship, slight nipple play, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. & m. receiving), choking, cheol has a big dick (i don't make the rules), unprotected sex (they talk about it, but don't do this), multiple orgasms & overstimulation (f. receiving), aftercare

a/n: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays. day 11 - cabin vacation. i'm not really sure what happened, something about scoups just makes me blackout and write too much (i only started this 2 days ago). also shoutout to @tbzhub for saying we'd do this together lmao. thank you to @gyuwoncheol, @wonwussy, & @wooahaeproductions for helping me land on cheol for this fic. also, just for fun, tagging some scoups enjoyers because i'm nothing if not a menace: @ugh-yoongi, @seungkwansphd, @wongyuseokie, @beomcoups, @horanghater, @cheolism

The holidays are usually your favorite time of year. Sure, they’re really hectic and there’s always way too much to do without nearly enough time to do it. But, you still love it. Love being around friends and family. Love how everyone seems to acknowledge that any problems can wait for the new year. This is a time for joy and happiness. A time to celebrate all the wonderful things that did happen and leave the bad in the year you’re leaving behind.

This time of year also brings around an annual trip that you take with friends. A trip to a secluded cabin where you can all just disconnect. Where you can sit by the fireplace and read. Where you can go to the nearby resort to ski or snowboard. Where you can drink hot cocoa and swap stories and just enjoy the company without the bustle of the city. It’s one of your favorite weekends every time the holidays roll around.

Not this year.

This year, your friends decide that they want to make the group a little bigger and spend a long weekend, including New Year’s Eve, together. Which is great, you’re single and there’s nobody else you’d rather ring the New Year in with. Except for one problem. Your ex is also coming. It’s been a little over a year since you broke up, so you know it’s time to move on. Moving on feels a lot harder when he decides he’s going to come to the cabin weekend again this year. It shouldn’t really surprise you. After all, you were friends before you dated. Didn’t think anything could stop you from being friends after. Didn’t actually think there would be an after, if you’re honest. And you’re definitely not going to be the one to back out or admit you’re still not really over it.

So, that’s why you’re sitting in a car with Wonwoo, Jihoon, and Mimi, headed off to the cabins that your friends booked for an extended long weekend. You’re just thankful that Wonwoo offered you a spot in his car on the way up. Makes it a lot easier. Even if it means Jihoon and Mimi are currently in each other’s space in the backseat as she shows him something on her phone. It’s not that you mind how cute they are together, it’s just still weird to see Jihoon acting like that with anyone. She seems to have waltzed in and melted any defenses he had.

From his position in the driver’s seat, Wonwoo reaches over to squeeze your thigh. You look over at him, grateful for the reminder that you’re not alone in all of this. Grateful that he swore up and down to make sure you never felt awkward the whole weekend. Maybe it won’t be so bad, you think, as you queue up more songs for the drive. That’s the best part about being in the front seat. You get to control the music and Wonwoo started the trip by telling Jihoon and Mimi just to roll with it. Not that they’re paying all that much attention, but it was a nice thought all the same.

The drive up is uneventful. Wonwoo navigates the winding back roads with a practiced ease. You sigh happily, taking in all the trees dusted with snow and the winter wonderland all around as you leave most of your troubles behind. There’s something almost refreshing about being out here. Like the air is crisper and everything is stiller. Wonwoo would make a smartass comment about how there’s more trees, less pollution, and a lot fewer people. So, of course all those things are true. You think it’s more, something about the magic of Christmas and the New Year.

Your smile falls the second you pull up to the main cabin because you can see that Seungcheol’s car is already there. Figures he would not only drive, but beat you there. You try to set that aside, though, because the place is beautiful. It’s set up with a main cabin where you can hang out, cook, play games, or do whatever you want. Then, there are separate small cabins, mostly just with bedrooms and bathrooms, to sleep in. Nayeon, bless her, took care of figuring out the sleeping arrangements for everyone. At least that would be easy.

Jihoon and Mimi are out of the car almost as soon as it stops, even if Jihoon grumbles about how his legs are stiff and the air is cold. It takes one smile from Mimi and he’s smiling back, grabbing their bags from the car to head for the main cabin. Meanwhile, Wonwoo adjusts his glasses and makes sure everything is turned off before getting out of the car to stretch. When he meets you at the trunk, his gaze is soft.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he asks.

You sigh and pull out your suitcase, with a little help from your friend. “No.”

“We shouldn’t have come,” Wonwoo says.

“Just because I’m being a baby doesn’t mean you should’ve stayed away,” you reassure him.

“You’re not being a baby,” he says with a frown.

“Still,” you press. “We’ve been broken up for a year. There’s going to be a lot of people here, it’ll be fine.”

“As long as you’re sure,” Wonwoo relents. “He didn’t bring anyone, did he?”

“No, Nayeon said it’s just him. She’s worried about me too,” you say with a playful eye roll. “She’s got me staying in a cabin with you, her, and Joshua.”

“I’m glad we’re at least staying together,” Wonwoo says.

“I’m gonna be fine, Wonwoo, you worry too much,” you insist.

You get through the first night and breakfast the next morning without having to say a single word to Seungcheol. It’s been awhile since you last saw some of your friends, so there’s a lot to catch up on. The group is also pretty large, which makes it easier to blend in. Everything, even something as simple as making a meal, is kind of a process, too. You’ve always been pretty comfortable in the kitchen and offer to help cook. Seungcheol can’t say the same. It feels like maybe it’ll be smooth and you can just do your own separate things without it being a big deal. Like you can both just agree to give each other space during the trip and not be awkward.

That lasts until the afternoon on the first full day, unfortunately.

Even though a lot of people take time off between Christmas and New Year’s, a decent portion of the group decides a Friday will still be less busy on the slopes. They want to get some runs in earlier in the day before whatever everyone wants to do later. Seungcheol, thankfully, was one of the first to say he wanted to go. Not surprising, you know he likes really anything where he can be active. Wonwoo was also quick to say he wanted to, after asking you if that was okay. You, again, insisted it was fine.

You’re reading your book by the fire, periodically watching Jun, Nayeon, and Mimi play cards on the other side of the room, when Seungcheol comes hobbling back in. Minghao just behind him, scolding him for not waiting and ruining the peaceful atmosphere.

“What’s wrong?” Nayeon asks, looking up from the game.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Seungcheol says shortly.

“He rolled his ankle,” Minghao interjects.

“Now you see why I stayed behind,” Jun says.

“I’m fine, really,” Seungcheol insists.

“You should ice it just in case. And keep it elevated,” Minghao says as heads off to the kitchen.

Trying to keep your face straight, you mark the page in your book and get up. All you want is for this to be as subtle as possible. But, Jun is also in the room.

“Where are you going?” Jun asks.

“Oh, just back to my room to get something,”

It’s a lie and you’re pretty sure they know it, but you also don’t care. You’re not going to stay in the room with an injured Seungcheol because he gets pouty when he can’t do exactly what he wants. This is going to be one of those times. There’s no way he’s going to be happy sitting still when he knows his other friends are still out on the trails. Especially when it’s such a minor thing. You hope that they all understand your decision to just let them deal with him and whatever he has to say.

When you feel like it’s been enough time, you venture back into the main cabin, portable charger in hand, for good measure. Not that you think anyone will ask what it is that you needed from your room, but it’s always a good idea to be prepared. Just in case. At first glance, you think the main living area is empty. That makes you sigh in a little relief. Not that you want to be alone when this is a trip for friends. It’s just nice to have a quiet moment in all the chaos. You think you’ll be able to get back to your book, at least for a little, until you notice someone laying on the couch. Not someone. Seungcheol. Quickly, you turn around, hoping he doesn’t see you. And it would probably work, if you didn’t bump into the corner of a table on your way out.

His head snaps up and swivels to look at you. “What - oh.”

“Sorry, I was just leaving,” you say.

“Can you really not be in the same room as me?” he asks. He sits up so that he can look at you more easily.

“I’ve been in the same room as you plenty,” you point out.

“Not alone,” he persists.

“What reason would we possibly have to be alone together?” you wonder.

“You don’t have to be so…” he starts.

“So, what?” you press.

“So…like this,” Seungcheol finishes, somewhat lamely.

“How should I be?” you ask.

“I don’t know, just, not like this. We were always comfortable with each other, even before…” he starts and stops suddenly.

“Before we dated? Before you shattered my heart? Before you decided it was easier to shut me out instead of just talking to me?” you ask, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

“I know,” he admits.

“You just abandoned me,” you say quietly. “I needed you and you weren’t there. I never would’ve left you like that.”

“I know. I made so many mistakes. So many things I can’t take back,” he says. He actually looks remorseful. You’re not sure if that’s better or worse. “I’m so sorry for that. I would take it all back if I could. I’d do everything differently.”

“This was a mistake,” you say.

“Talking to me?” he asks.

“Coming on this trip at all,” you admit and turn away. “I have to go.”

With your back to him, you miss the way his face falls at your admission. Don’t see the way he considers getting up to follow after you. It’s for the best, anyway. Your heart's already breaking again just from one conversation. Just from seeing the emotion on his face. The one face you thought you’d always know better than your own. It’s amazing how everything can change in a single moment. How something that took years to build, first as friends and then as a couple, can all come tumbling down in a second. A split second or a fork in the road. One wrong turn and it’s all gone.

You make it through to Saturday without any more forced conversations with your ex-boyfriend. Manage to sit on the opposite end of the table from him during meals. Wait until he commits to playing a game or watching something before you decide what to do yourself. Still, you feel very included in everything with different groups of your friends because there are plenty of people there to hang out with. If you take the forced conversation with him out of the equation, it’s actually been a pretty good trip, overall. Not nearly as hard as you expected it to be.

“I’m gonna go check out the lodge at the mountain, anyone wanna come?” Wonwoo throws out. There’s a smattering of lukewarm responses. Mostly, people say they may hit the trails a little bit later after they’ve had a lazy morning.

“I’ll come,” you offer.

“Shocking that you two are a pair,” Nayeon jokes from her spot on the couch, curled up with Joshua.

“That’s enough out of you,” you joke back before turning to Wonwoo. “I’ll go grab my coat.”

“Can you grab my hat? I think I left it in my room,” Wonwoo requests.

“Sure,” you agree.

When you meet Wonwoo in the entranceway, you find your eyes back on the living area. Almost like you can feel someone watching you. But, when nobody is, you figure that you must have imagined it, not noticing the way Seungcheol’s jaw tightens or his mouth turns down in frown. He had just been looking and he wasn’t liking what he saw. Instead, having missed all that, you fall into step beside one of your closest friends and head out of the cabin.

“It’s not a far walk, but we can drive if you want,” Wonwoo offers, sticking his hands into his pockets.

“No, a walk would be nice. It’s not as cold today,” you say.

One of the best parts of being friends with Wonwoo is the sheer comfort you feel with him. It’s always been like this, since the beginning of your friendship. Always just as easy to say the hard things to him as it is to sit in silence. Always easy to avoid the hard things, because he seems to find it easy to to tell when you don’t want to say something. Unfortunately, it’s also easy for him to push you to speak, even when you’re not sure if you want to. Like now, as soon as you reach the Lodge.

“Are you doing okay?” Wonwoo asks as the pair of you make your way over to a stand selling hot drinks.

“I’m assuming you don’t mean from the walk over here,” you deflect while you look at the menu.

“No,” Wonwoo answers simply.

“I’m fine,” you insist, stepping up to the counter. “Peppermint hot chocolate and whatever he wants.”

“You don’t have to…” Wonwoo starts, falling silent at the look you give him. He sighs, knowing you won’t relent. “Just a plain hot chocolate.”

“Thanks,” you say as you pay.

“You’re not fine. I can see it on you,” Wonwoo says.

You pause when someone calls out your name for the order. “I really am doing fine. The only hard part was getting sucked into a short conversation with him yesterday.”

“What did he say?” Wonwoo asks.

“Nothing much,” you say and meet Wonwoo’s eyes. You can tell you need to carry on. So, you recount the conversation as best as you can remember.

“He misses you,” Wonwoo surmises.

“And if he does? What does it matter?” you ask.

“You miss him too,” Wonwoo points out. “That’s why it matters.”

“I don’t,” you argue. “He broke my heart.”

“What happened? A year ago when you broke up, what happened?” Wonwoo asks.

“You know what happened,” you say with a sigh.

“No, I don’t. I know he left, somehow, but I don’t know what really happened. You’ve always kept that part of the story close to the vest,” Wonwoo says.

“Because it still hurts,” you plead.

“Maybe it’s time you let someone else take a little of that pain by talking about it,” Wonwoo suggests. You find a table to sit down as you’re considering sharing.

Ultimately, it would be nice to get someone else’s perspective. To get someone who knows you both, and cares about you both, to weigh in on everything that happened. Even if Wonwoo seemingly took your side, you know he still talks to Seungcheol as well. With a steadying breath, you launch into the whole explanation, at least your side of it. It’s time, past time, honestly, that you get this off your chest.

It was great, at the beginning. The two of you were friends first, for years, before something shifted and you started to see each other differently. Suddenly stepping a little more carefully around each other. Not really knowing what to do or what to expect. Not sure if it would ruin the friendship to admit that there were feelings there. Until one day, Seungcheol finally made the move, asked you out on a date, and made sure you knew that’s what he was asking. It got very serious, very quickly. Far more quickly than either of you expected. But, that’s what happens when you start as friends. There are so many things you already know, so many things you don’t have to ask, so many memories already embedded into your relationship. Things were good. It wasn’t like they were perfect. There were little fights here and there, but nothing that felt that serious. Nothing that felt like a dealbreaker.

It’s hard to admit, even to Wonwoo, that you saw Seungcheol as your forever. As someone you wouldn’t let go of once you had him. He was your safe space without ever being boring. Your protector without ever being one of those toxic assholes. Your biggest cheerleader without being condescending. It was way too early in the relationship to be feeling like he was your forever, so you didn’t ever say it to him, but you felt it. Felt it deep in your bones. He was also vulnerable with you in a way that he wasn’t with anyone else. At least anyone else that you’d seen. The first time he just let you take care of him, let you see him as something other than someone strong and in control, it made you fall even more deeply for him. It didn’t hurt that he nearly stopped your heart with how stupid hot he was. That gets a snort out of Wonwoo before you continue on.

Suddenly, everything changed. Seungcheol withdrew into himself and stopped confiding in you. He could always be a bit moody, a little deep in his feelings. Still, he would always talk to you about it. Would always share with you what he was feeling. Sometimes it was something so simple as you getting a little too much attention, which he didn’t like. He could be a little jealous. It was something you worked on with him. Sometimes it was a conversation with a friend weighing heavily or something going wrong at work. No matter what, he always talked to you about it. Until he didn’t. Until he just stopped saying much of anything. Until he got a bit secretive with everything in his life and you didn’t really recognize him anymore. His phone was always turned over. Not fully paying attention to you when you were in group settings. Not making plans the way he used to.

“What did you do?” Wonwoo asks.

“I confronted him,” you say. Simple. It was so simple. “I told him it wasn’t okay and that I deserved better. That we always got through things together and that we needed to get back to that.”

“Mature of you,” Wonwoo says.

“I thought so,” you say and take a steadying breath. “He agreed, even. Told me that I did deserve better.”

“So what…” Wonwoo asks, but trails off. Obviously confused.

“He said that it was too much. That he couldn’t give me the things I deserved. That I would be better off finding someone else who could,” you say and wipe away the stray tear.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” Wonwoo says.

“I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want you to look at me like that,” you admit. “Like I was broken because someone didn’t want to love me.”

“You’re not broken,” Wonwoo insists softly, hand reaching out for one of yours. “You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. But it’s okay to admit when you need help. Or when you need a friend.”

“I know,” you sigh. “It’s just hard.”

“I know, but I’m here,” Wonwoo assures you.

Saturday night finds Wonwoo and Seungcheol as the last two awake in the living room, finishing their drinks in relative silence. It used to be easy for Seungcheol, sitting with his friend like this. Yet, it hasn’t been, not in the last year since he broke up with you. Not since Wonwoo made it clear that they were friends, but he was sticking by you no matter what. Not that Wonwoo’s been cold or rude or anything. That would have made it easier, Seungcheol thinks. No, instead he’s been mostly the same. Still just as friendly and supportive. All it does is make him feel worse. Why can’t Wonwoo just say what’s really on his mind?

“How was the lodge earlier?” Seungcheol asks.

“Hmm?” Wonwoo asks, eyes seeming to come back into focus as they look over at him.

“The lodge? You went over there earlier. I was just asking how it was,” Seungcheol repeats.

“Oh, fine. We just ended up getting hot chocolate and talking. Kinda watched people coming and going from the trails,” Wonwoo says like it doesn’t matter. Maybe it doesn’t.

“Are you two…are you…” Seungcheol starts and stops the question several times.

“Dating?” Wonwoo asks, taking pity on his friend. “No. She’s been single since…”

“I broke her heart?” Seungcheol supplies humorlessly.

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“No? It seems like someone spending that much time with her would say that.”

Wonwoo regards him for a second, adjusts his glasses like he’s buying time to think. “What happened? With you and her, what happened?”

“I’m sure you’ve already heard it from her.” The answer is short. Seungcheol doesn’t want to play these games, not with someone that’s so obviously close to you.

“I’m not asking to hear it from her. I’m asking to hear it from you,” Wonwoo presses. He’s insistent, but his eyes are soft. It’s easy to wonder if it’s time to share.

“I got scared,” Seungcheol admits. “And jealous.”

“Of what? Or of who?” Wonwoo asks. Seungcheol takes a long sip of his drink and grimaces a little. He isn’t buzzed enough for this. Can’t really believe he’s entertaining sharing in the first place. But, well, isn’t this what he’s hoping for? Another chance?

“Of everything and everyone,” Seungcheol says. “She was so kind, so patient, so good to me. Good for me. Just the best person I’ve ever known. I just thought that one day, she’d wake up and she’d realize that she deserved more than me.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “Why did you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Seungcheol admits. “I guess, well I know I can be difficult. That I get in my head a lot. I know sometimes it’s hard to talk about what I’m feeling. She made a lot of that feel easier, which made me fall harder for her. But, then she makes a lot of people feel that way, doesn’t she? Like she’s the only one who will understand. I don’t even think I was the only friend of ours that had feelings for her. I just, I don’t know, it sounds so fucking dumb now, but I couldn’t compete.”

“It wasn’t a competition, Cheol,” Wonwoo says.

“I know that,” Seungcheol insists.

Wonwoo fixes him with a stare. “Do you? She’s a lot of things, maybe a lot that make people interested in her. But, she chose you. She chose you and kept choosing you, every chance she got. I don’t think that ever would’ve changed.”

“Do you want me to feel worse?” Seungcheol asks, voice rising a bit. “I already told her that I would go back and change things if I could, but I can’t.”

“Do you still love her?” Wonwoo asks, voice so quiet. Yet, it carries all the same.

“Of course I do,” Seungcheol says.

“Then figure out a way to tell her,” Wonwoo replies.

“It’s not that easy,” Seungcheol says. “And aren’t you supposed to be telling me to leave her alone? As her friend?”

Wonwoo rises from his seat. “It can be that easy, if you stop being your own worst enemy. And I’m your friend, too. It doesn’t seem like the chapter is really over for either of you yet.”

Seungcheol sits and considers what his friend shared. Wonders if there might be something there. He barely registers as Wonwoo says goodnight and calls a goodnight in response. Then, he’s left with his thoughts again. Should he say something? Can he bring himself to say something? Or will you just shut it down again?

New Year's Eve brings a snowstorm with it that has your group of friends deciding it’s best to just stay in the cabins instead of venturing out to the party they’re having at the lodge. There’s plenty of you for a party, plenty of food, and plenty of warmth, especially close to the fire. The snow falls lightly outside the windows, blanketing everything around with a fresh layer of powdery flakes. It’s not supposed to get truly heavy until much later in the evening. So, you can just get dressed up and have a party with everyone that’s familiar to you. No worrying about mixing with strangers and how they’ll impact the party.

When you and Mingyu go into the kitchen to take stock of what you have and plan out the food for the day, you realize that maybe you don’t have everything that you need after all. You could actually use more food and you definitely could use some champagne to toast with. It makes sense, though, you planned to go into the lodge to ring in the new year. Your smile when Wonwoo, Jihoon, and Joshua offer to go out and do a run is immediate and wide. You hand over a list of what you need (well, you text it to all three of them just to cover your bases) and they’re off into town. That lets you turn back to the kitchen, where Mingyu and Mimi are starting on an appetizer. You’re trying to figure out what you can work on when someone clears their throat. Your heart skips a little when you look up.

“Could I talk to you for a minute?” Seungcheol asks you, face more open than you’ve seen in a while.

It makes your mouth go dry. How are you supposed to turn him down when he’s asking in front of everyone like this? Like it’s just a totally normal thing to ask? All you can do is nod and avoid looking at anyone else around you. Just nod and follow him into a smaller side room off the main living area.

“Thanks,” he says when they stop walking.

“What was I supposed to do? Make a scene?” you ask.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to ask you to talk,” he admits.

“I heard you,” you say, cutting across his words. He looks confused. “Last night? I heard you talking to Wonwoo. I left my charger in here and came back to get it.”

“Oh,” is all he says.

“Oh?” you repeat.

“I wanted to actually tell you, not have you overhear me talking through things with someone else,” he says, mouth turned down like he’s upset.

“Then you should have just talked to me,” you press.

“I couldn’t! You won’t talk to me,” he says defensively.

“Not this weekend. A year ago, when it all happened,” you say quietly.

“I know,” he says. You expect him to look annoyed or defeated, but he only looks sincere. “I knew the moment you walked out that I fucked up and I’m so sorry. I’ve tried a hundred times since then to just talk to you, but the words never felt right.”

“Cheol,” you plead. You’ve been waiting a year to hear this. Except, you finally feel like you’re starting to move past it all and this is only making it confusing.

“Just, you don’t have to say anything, I just want you to hear me out,” Seungcheol pleads. “I know I have absolutely no right to ask you that, but I’m asking anyway.”

“Okay,” you say, barely above a whisper.

“I fucked up. I knew I did when you walked out, but it took me a while to realize just how bad. I didn’t just drive a partner away, I drove someone away that got through all my walls in a way nobody else ever has. I drove away the person that made me feel comfortable, that supported me even when I was being an idiot, that constantly showed up for me. I was afraid that I didn’t deserve you and always jealous of everyone else that paid attention to you. I thought one day you were gonna wake up and realize that there were better people out there that were less, I don’t know, emotionally closed off. I didn’t realize until way too late that you knew exactly what you brought to the table and what you deserved, but you picked me. I didn’t realize that it’s the only thing I ever needed, was you seeing all of me and picking me anyway,” Seungcheol says.

“I don’t, that’s…” you trail off and shake your head to clear it. You’re trying to find the words when Nayeon pokes her head in.

“Hey, I’m so sorry to butt in, but Mimi just kicked me out of the kitchen. I was only offering because Mingyu said he needed help,” Nayeon says. “I think they need you.”

“Oh, um,” you start, kind of like a deer in headlights.

“You should go help him. I don’t want everyone hating me for keeping you from helping Mingyu,” Seungcheol says with a light chuckle at complete odds with the situation.

“Thank you,” Nayeon says with a smile as she grabs your arm to whisk you away.

“Does Mingyu actually need me?” you ask.

“Huh? Yeah, he does,” Nayeon laughs. “I wasn’t trying to save you, you’re good enough at that on your own.”

“I don’t buy that,” you say, pulling both of you to a halt. Nayeon rolls her eyes.

“Fine, maybe I heard what he said to Wonwoo last night from Joshua and maybe I want you to at least consider what he has to say,” Nayeon admits. “I liked you together, sue me.”

“I just might,” you grumble, heading off to help Mingyu in the kitchen without Nayeon in tow.

After dinner, you and Mingyu insist that you’re not getting anything, for anyone, for the rest of the night. And probably into tomorrow. Mimi got distracted part way through and disappeared for entirely too long with Jihoon. Which would be fine, but there were a lot of people to cook for and you needed all the help you could get. Joshua popped in and out, thankfully, but it was still tiring. The perk has been that you actually haven’t had to lift a finger since. Your drink stays full and someone is always willing to get you something to eat. That lets you settle in to play a game with the group.

The TV in the background steadily counts down as it gets closer to midnight. Occasionally, the performance draws your attention to watch. Mostly, you’re just drinking entirely too much. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of your brain, you know that you’re just trying to avoid thinking about everything Seungcheol said. Or trying to avoid thinking how good he looks tonight. It’s hard to stop yourself from lingering on the way his shirt clings to his chest. Has he been working out even more? Or the way his pants stretch tight across his thighs. Not for the first time, you shake your head to clear it, recross your legs, and focus on whatever game it is you’re playing. Ignore the look Wonwoo gives you from his place next to you. He certainly hasn’t missed your looks. (And nobody else really has, either, except for Jun. But, that’s just Jun for you.)

Everyone sets aside the games when it gets closer to midnight, milling around with varying amounts of energy instead of sitting still. You realize, even with any awkwardness from Seungcheol being there, you can’t think of anyone else you’d rather ring in a new year with. Surrounded by all of your favorite people, what else could anyone ask for? Well, except maybe a New Year’s kiss. As if on cue, your glance drifts over to Seungcheol. It’s a little surprising to find he’s already looking at you, smiling softly. It sends a surge of emotion through you to think of all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. When you turn away to take a sip of your drink, you find it’s empty. With midnight rapidly approaching, you really need a refill on the champagne. You’re about to go do that when a voice breaks into your thoughts.

“Here,” he says.

You turn to look at Seungcheol, now very firmly in your space, holding out a new glass of champagne. “Thanks.”

“I just noticed you were almost empty and figured you’d want it,” he offers.

“Yeah, I should make sure this one lasts,” you chuckle out.

The host on TV announces that there’s only a minute left. Everyone around you starts talking excitedly or getting closer to their partners, if they have them. Jokingly, you told Wonwoo that he would be your New Year’s kiss. Now, that’s the last thing on your mind. Seungcheol hovers close by. When you look over at him, though, his eyes are on the TV, counting down along with the host when it gets to ten seconds.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Everyone shouts together and starts clinking glasses. Hugging their friends or kissing their partners. Your body makes the decision for you when you turn to the man next to you and cheers his glass. As he starts to turn away, you grab his arm and pull him into you. Press your lips against his before either of you can figure out what’s happening. He recovers from his surprise quickly and wraps his free arm around your waist to pull you against his chest. It’s familiar and also somehow completely new at the same time.

Breathless. That’s what you feel when you pull away and cheers with other friends. You throw your arms around Nayeon and press a kiss to Wonwoo’s cheek. Pointedly ignore any looks or raised eyebrows about your decision to kiss your ex in a room full of all your friends. It’s fine. Everyone is doing fine. You’re definitely thankful that someone suggests a game and you can all go back to celebrating without talking about the elephant in the room. A very different elephant than when you first got to the cabins.

There’s another massive difference, too. Instead of sitting on the fringes or carefully leaving space, Seungcheol plops down right next to you. Lets his arm rest along the back of the couch. His arm isn’t around you, but it could be with the slightest adjustment. Several of your friends look at you with the question in their eyes. You avoid all of them, like the true adult you are, and focus, instead, on the warmth of Seungcheol’s thigh when it presses into yours. Actually, you avoid drinking any more, either. The whole night has been a little confusing (read: a lot confusing) and you don’t need an alcohol haze adding to that. It doesn’t escape your notice that he stops drinking as well.

When you start to get a little tired, you excuse yourself to the kitchen, claiming you need a snack and don’t know what you want. A minute later, Seungcheol appears on the other side of the island. Leaning casually against it like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like he hasn’t sent your entire world into a spiral. Like he’s not still one of the hottest people you’ve ever seen in your life.

“So, uh, I don’t wanna assume anything…” he starts and you hold up a hand.

“I’m going to excuse myself in a minute to go to bed. Give it a few minutes and then come to my room,” you say, walking around him without waiting for a response.

When you tell the group that you’re going to turn in for the night, you do your best not to meet anyone’s eyes. You’re not naive enough to think you’re fooling anyone. Not that you even want to. It’s just, well, you want this time to figure out what’s happening. It’s a little hard to do that when you know everyone’s eyes are on the two of you. There’s the tiniest bit of you holding onto the hope that you can pass it off as you being overwhelmed by the kiss at midnight. Like you didn’t just tell him to meet you in your room.

Back in your room, you shrug off your jacket and sit down on the bed. The seconds seem to drag by waiting for him to show up. For a second, you wonder if he’s actually going to show up at all. You stop those thoughts in their tracks. He had a lot to say and he kissed you back. Then, he spent the rest of the night pressed up close to you. He’s going to show up. Before you can spiral further, there’s a knock at the door. You’re halfway to the door when it opens a crack and Seungcheol peeks his head inside.

“Can I come in?” he asks, looking unsure for the first time since before you kissed him.

“I did ask you to come to my room,” you joke.

“I was a little surprised,” he admits.

“Me too,” you agree.

He shuts the door behind him, allowing you to really look at him for the first time all weekend. To take in his appearance, as he removes his jacket, without any other eyes on your. Or anyone analyzing the interaction. To just appreciate the man you fell in love with. His hair is a little shaggy and blond, a color you don’t remember seeing on him before. He catches you looking, but instead of a smirk, there’s only a smile. Hopeful and genuine. It’s a little overwhelming to have him in your space. To know you need to talk. To know there’s so much to work through.

Instead, in the only move you can think of, you close the distance, wrapping your arms around his middle. He doesn’t even miss a beat. Just wraps his arms around you, erasing any last bit of space between you. It feels calm, familiar. Like no time has passed. Like you’re not different people now. He kisses the top of your head, so soft you think it might shatter any resolve you have left.

“I’m sorry I kissed you in front of everyone without talking to you,” you mumble into his shirt.

“I’m not,” he quickly reassures you.

“I really fucking want to kiss you again,” you admit, still talking into his shirt rather than looking at him.

“Then,” he starts, moving a hand to tilt your chin up, “what are you waiting for?”

“We probably should talk,” you say.

“You’re right,” he sighs.

Except, do you really want to talk right now? Do you really want to stop yourself from kissing him again? You stopped drinking so your head would be clear enough to make this decision. You’re just a little sick of overthinking everything this weekend. Sensing the indecision, Seungcheol presses a feather light kiss to your lips. Enough to make the decision, while also being light enough that you could easily pull away.

You do, just for a second. “Fuck it, let’s talk tomorrow.”

Your lips crash back against Seungcheol’s, hungry and desperate, arms wrapped around his neck. It makes him tilt down a little so that you can press against him. There’s no hesitation on his end, either. You find yourself wondering if he was always this good at kissing or if he’s gotten better since you broke up. Or maybe it just means more the second time around. When he picks you up, you gasp into the kiss. Wrap your legs around his waist to feel a little steadier. Not that you think he would ever let you fall. It’s easier than you expected to fall back into this kind of trust with him.

It’s like you both want to go fast, yet also take your time. Seungcheol deposits you on the bed, then takes his time removing your shoes. Toes his off a little more quickly. You go to remove some of your layers, only to have his hands stop you. He’s so slow, removing the sheer top with painstaking care. Kissing along your skin as he exposes it. The amount of attention makes you squirm. You’re prepared for something quick and dirty. Something more like a one-night stand. You’re not prepared for him to worship your body as he exposes more of your skin. Part of you feels really exposed, because he’s still fully dressed, as he carefully unhooks your bra. The way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the world he’s ever wanted, makes your heart ache. Makes you second guess if this is right.

“We can stop. We don’t have to do this,” he whispers into your skin.

You grab his face so that you can look him in the eyes. There’s something in you that just needs to gauge him for a minute. Needs to really know what decision you’re making. There’s so much love there, so many unspoken words, so much sincerity. Maybe you’re not over him at all. Maybe he meant everything he said.

“No, I want this. Want you,” you assure him.

His eyes sparkle a little. There’s no time to dwell on it, though. His mouth is on your skin again. Kissing the spot on your neck that he knows drives you crazy. Kissing the beauty mark on your shoulder. Kissing across your collarbone. When he works his way down to your nipples, he’s not being so soft anymore. He pinches one between his fingers without warning.

“Fuck, Cheol,” you hiss.

“Too much?” he asks. You don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking, but you do anyway. That knowing smirk sends desire coursing through you.

“You’re such a little shit,” you whine.

He pinches the same nipple again. Watches you as he flicks his tongue over the other. Actually smiles when you arch into his mouth. “You don’t seem to mind it.”

You wind your hand into his hair in response, pull a little harder than normal. He groans against your breast, sending a little vibration into your skin. “You don’t seem to mind a little pain, either.”

There’s no answer. Not that you need it. One of his hands moves down your body, mouth still focusing on your chest, until he gets to your thigh. Your skirt is bunching up around hips from squirming on the bed. “How much do you like these tights?”

You look down at the sparkly tights you bought just for the party. That you’ll probably never wear again. “I mean, they’ve got sparkles. Wasn’t planning to wear them again.”

“Good,” he says.

You’re expecting him to rip them on the spot. Instead, he returns his mouth to yours, kissing you hard, and lets a finger run over your entrance, through both tights and underwear. It’s not enough. There’s entirely too much fabric in the way. He’s teasing you, he has to be. There’s no other reason that explains this kind of torture.

“Jesus, Cheol, please,” you beg.

“What are you trying to do to me?” he groans. Seems like he still likes it when you beg for something.

In either case, he carefully rips a hole in your tights, too focused on you to figure out pulling them down. Seemingly in one motion, your underwear is pushed to the side and he’s got a finger running up your entrance. Feeling that you’re turned on from the way he’s been kissing all over your body. Thankfully, you don’t have to beg again. At least, not yet. He presses his fingers at your mouth and you suck them in eagerly. Swirl your tongue around them. He almost looks reluctant when he withdraws them to press one inside your cunt.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he groans.

“Forgot how good your fingers felt,” you answer, squirming underneath him.

“Bet I could make you come just on my fingers,” he says as he adds a second one.

“Fuck,” you draw out. He’s not being gentle with you anymore. “Then you don’t get to taste me. And we both know how much you love that.”

He leans in closer, you’re assuming to kiss you. Instead, his lips find your ear. “Who says I can’t do both?”

You bite down on your fist to keep from screaming out when he thrusts faster. Try your best to hold on when his thumb brushes over your clit. All you want is to prove him wrong. Prove that you can hold on and that you’re not putty in his hands. Except, your body remembers. It remembers just how good he makes you feel. Remembers how well he knows what makes you crazy. Nobody has ever known your body like him. And it’s a little annoying. With his fingers inside you, it’s easy to realize that nobody feels as good as him. You could never get yourself off like he could.

It’s an embarrassingly short time before you’re coming on his fingers, fighting not to scream out. Trying anything you can not to make it more obvious just why you decided it was time to head to bed. Seungcheol guides you through the high as you fall back into the bed, sinking deeper into the mattress. After a moment, you prop yourself up to watch him remove his shirt. You’re no longer the only one that’s overexposed. Then again, you don’t feel exposed being half naked around him. It only feels comfortable. Once he removes his shirt, he moves back to your body. Actually takes the time to remove your tights and underwear now. His breath ghosts across your cunt. That action alone is enough to send a little shiver through your body. You’re definitely sensitive.

Seungcheol positions himself between your legs and looks up when you suck in a breath. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

He’s so pretty like this. You’ve always thought that. Pushing his hair out of his eyes and looking up at you from underneath his lashes like he’s never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. So caring. The little bit of caution you get from him in the middle of him ruining you. You clear your throat to remember he asked you a question. “Yes, Cheol. With you, always.”

It’s immediately more honest than either of you are expecting. Instead of breaking the moment, though, it seems to spur him on. The kind smile dissipates into something much more confident. He spreads you open and looks up for a last time before his tongue licks a strip up your entrance. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time he was between your legs, your entire body remembers. It’s like muscle memory. The way your back arches. The way your hand knots in his hair. The way the praises fall from your lips. You’re sensitive. So fucking sensitive. And he knows. It’s always been one of his favorite things with you. Pushing you to the edge and then over again.

“God, I forgot how fucking good you taste,” he says when he takes a breath.

“Well maybe, fuckkkk,” you start before cutting out.

For once, he’s not a demon. He doesn’t ask what you were about to stay. Just keeps alternating between fucking his tongue into you and sucking your clit into his mouth. It’s too much and not enough all at once. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire. When his nose bumps against your clit as he’s buried deep in your pussy, you lose it again. Come all over his tongue and his face. Come harder than you remember coming in a really long time. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

By the time the last shock works through your body, he’s laying next to you on the bed. You can’t help it. You have to lean over and kiss him. Want to taste yourself on his lips. It’s almost like you need that to know this is all real. That it’s all happening and it’s not just some weird, horny dream. (It’s not like that would be a first, either. You’ll never admit it, but you’ve thought a lot about him since you broke up. Especially when you were horny and needed a release. That’s your business, though.)

“Fuck, Cheol,” you utter when you pull away from the kiss.

“I’ve missed hearing my name on your lips,” he admits. “Specially when you call me Cheol.”

“I’ve missed saying it,” you share, equally honest.

You’re a little weak already. It’s hard to imagine what tomorrow is going to be like. But, you move down the bed anyway. Seungcheol tracks you with his eyes as you position to undo his pants. He moves his hips up to help you pull both his pants and briefs down. His stare as you pull your skirt down and discard it at the side of the bed is almost possessive. It sends something through your body.

It’s your turn to remind him that he’s not the only one who remembers. You also remember just what drives him crazy and just how to get him going. You remember every place he likes to be kissed. So, you start there. Run your lips along every part of his body, like you’re committing him to memory again. As if you could ever forget anything about him. You delight in the sounds you pull from him just with your kisses. Maybe he knows, though, that you’re working your way down.

“So hard just from getting me off,” you comment.

“Because I know that nobody can make you come like I can and it’s fucking hot,” he answers.

It’s the same answer he’s always given and something about the familiarity makes you bolder. Even though you know there’s a conversation for tomorrow, it feels like the easiest thing you’ve ever done. You take his dick in your hand, run a finger over the tip and feel a little bit of the precum there. When you lick a stripe up the underside of his shaft, he shudders. Closes his eyes for a second before they snap back open to watch you. He’s always been like this. Always wanting to watch. This time is no different as you slowly take him into your mouth. You know he wants to fuck into your face, know you’d let him. But, you’re thankful he doesn’t. Even if you remember, he’s still big and thick inside your mouth. You need the time to get used to him. Once you do, though, you start to bob. Slowly, at first, before you let him take control. Relax your throat and let him find purchase in your hair. Encourage him to jerk his hips up as you keep your eyes on him as much as possible. You know how much it drives him crazy, even as the tears form and you gag a little

“Fuck,” Seungcheol utters.

He pulls you off his cock and up to his face so that he can kiss you. This is your favorite version of him. When he’s needy and desperate and completely putty in your hands. Like he can’t possibly imagine being anywhere that you aren’t. It’s when you know that you’re not crazy, that he’s just as far gone for you as you are for him.

“I really need to fuck you,” he says. His lips are swollen from kissing you and his pupils are completely blown. “Fuck, I don’t have a condom on me.”

“It’s fine, I’m still on the pill and I haven’t been with anyone since you,” you say.

That seems to catch him off guard. “You haven’t?”

“No,” you answer.

“I haven’t either,” he admits.

“Then, we’re fine. I trust you,” you tell him.

“Thank god, I really miss being inside you,” he breathes out.

“Think you just miss me,” you grumble as you reposition to straddle his lap.

“You and that smartass mouth of yours,” he retorts.

“I’m about to ride you, Seungcheol, and you just fucked my smartass mouth. So, maybe, pipe down,” you warn him.

This has always been your dynamic, swapping back and forth for who’s in control. As much as he says he likes control, you know he likes giving it up to you just as much. You know that he hasn’t ever let anyone else be in control apart from you. He looks up at you as you position yourself over him. There was a time when you hated this position. Felt really self conscious about how you must look from this angle. The second you admitted it to him, he was quick with his praise. Assuring you that you’re beautiful to him and there’s nothing to worry about.

He stops you before you lower yourself onto him. Puts his fingers in your mouth again and you obey without a second thought. Then, he runs his fingers along your entrance. Slides a finger in before quickly adding a second. It’s an awkward angle, but you get what he’s trying to do. Appreciate that he wants to make sure you’re at least a little prepped. When he pulls his fingers out, you’re only a little embarrassed at the moan that slips through your lips. If you completely ignore the smirk that he throws your way, well, who can blame you? The smirk is gone a second later when you finally lower yourself onto him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans.

You know him so well. You know his instinct is to buck his hips up into you. You know it’s hard for him to let you adjust. But, you also know that he wants to be gentle, even if it’s just for a moment.

“I forgot how good you felt, jesus fuck,” you moan out.

“Please, I need to feel you move,” he begs. It’s nice, when he’s the one to beg for something.

And who are you to deny him anything he asks for when he sounds so pretty asking? You do move, entirely too slowly. You need to find your rhythm, though. Need to find some place to anchor your hands. They settle on his chest, at first, and you actually can’t believe how much muscle he has there. He’s always liked to work out. Always wanted to be in shape. This is even more than that. You’re still appreciating the way his chest feels when he grabs one of your hands. Without a word, he moves it to his neck.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

He nods. It’s been awhile since you choked him, even lightly, but it turns you on. It’s easy to see that it turns him on, too. As you apply a little bit of pressure, his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips. You do everything that you can to pick up the pace. To move faster on top of him. It doesn’t take very long until he’s planting his feet so that he can set the pace. He takes over the rhythm and it gets a lot harder. Bodies slapping together with each movement.

“Fuck, Cheol,” you say, trying not to scream.

You move your hand from his neck so that you have a better grip. He’s moving too fast for you to feel comfortable that you won’t press too hard into his neck. It’s insane, you know that it’s insane, but you already feel like you’re getting close again. You start to clench around Seungcheol, making the stretch feel that much more intense.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come if you do that,” he groans.

“Then do it,” you force out. “Wanna feel it inside me.”

“Jesus,” he groans.

Everything happens so fast. You can feel him everywhere and your body is on fire. He’s still fucking hard into you, but he’s also rubbing your clit. Helping you get there with him. Somehow, he doesn’t seem to realize you’re already on the verge of your third orgasm. Oversensitive and overstimulated. Your body starts to shake and it’s hard to keep yourself upright on top of him.

“Fuck, Cheol, I’m coming,” you hiss out.

“I’m about to come too, fuck,” he answers.

His thrusts get a lot more erratic and you feel him let loose inside you. You feel the way he moves to try and support you even while he’s working through his own release. When he stills, you collapse forward onto his chest. Breaths shallow and heavy. Your whole body’s exhausted, yet so happy at the same time. Carefully, you pull yourself off him. You’re sure a little bit of cum slides out with the loss of his cock inside you. Not that you care.

It’s several minutes of silence. Seungcheol lays on his back and you’re on your side next to him. It might be a mark of how much he really did miss you that he doesn’t flinch when you start tracing patterns onto his stomach. It’s not like you just stop being ticklish. Eventually, you realize you need to get up. The last thing you want is to go to bed crusty.

“Come on, I got lucky and I have an attached bathroom,” you say when you get up off the bed. You reach a hand to him and smile when he takes it without question.

It’s quiet again as you help clean each other up. A comfortable kind of quiet. The way it used to be. This is another favorite of yours with him. Aftercare has always been his thing. No matter how rough he is with you in bed, he’s impossibly gentle when he cleans you up. It makes your heart ache a little because you’re so fond. It’s a weird mix of feelings.

“We should sleep in my room tonight,” he says.

“We’re already here,” you point out.

“With sheets that are probably soaked,” he teases back.

“What are the chances we can get to your room without being seen?” you wonder.

He shrugs. “It’s late. Probably better than the chances nobody heard us.”

Your cheeks flush a little. Sure, you definitely tried to be quiet. You’ll have to wait until the morning to see if you succeeded.

“Come on, my room has a door to the outside,” he says.

So, you follow. You put your layers back on and grab something to sleep in. And you don’t actually see anyone before you’re safely tucked away in his room. That night, falling asleep tangled up in Seungcheol, is the best night of sleep you’ve gotten in a long time.

Morning comes and brings with it the need for an actual conversation. As you stretch in bed, you appreciate the soreness in your body with a smile. Anything you’re feeling now is surely worth it. That is, until you realize you’re in bed alone. Dread creeps in. Could last night really have meant something different to Seungcheol than it did to you? Did you just make a massive mistake? You’re starting to wonder if you’re only going to break your own heart this time, with nobody else to blame, when the bedroom door opens. Seungcheol steps inside with a thermos and a bag that looks like it might have some of the pastries Wonwoo brought back from the store yesterday.

“You’re awake,” he says with a smile. He sets down the thermos and removes his jacket to hang it up.

“I was worried you’d left,” you admit when he finishes taking off his shoes and sits next to you. His face looks hurt for a second before it settles.

“No, I just went to get coffee and figure out what we were walking into before you got up,” he says.

“And?” you prompt.

He pulls out a pastry and hands it over. “Nayeon asked where I slept last night and if I knew where you were. I don’t think she heard anything, but who knows with her? Wonwoo wasn’t in the main area, so I don’t know. They said they all knew I was following you, though.”

“Guess we can’t really avoid it,” you joke.

You’re expecting him to smile, too. Instead, his face is serious. “Do you want to? Avoid it, I mean.”

It makes you serious. Maybe a little too honest. “I don’t want to get hurt again.”

“I don’t expect you to believe me, not right away, but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” he says and takes your hands in his. “If you give me another chance, I’m never letting you walk away from me again. I’ll prove that I’m worth everything you give me.”

“You’ve always been worth it, Cheol,” you tell him.

“I realize that now,” he agrees. “I also realize it’s up to you to know what you deserve and what you want. That wasn’t ever my decision to make and I’m really sorry for doing that to you.”

“It hurt, for sure, but not having you around hurts so much worse,” you admit. It’s hard to meet his eyes, even though you know you’re safe.

“It hurts so fucking bad. I hate it. Last year was the worst year of my life,” he says.

“You got a massive promotion, though! Wonwoo told me,” you say.

“This is going to sound so cheesy, but I’m done caring. That promotion didn’t mean shit without you being there to share it with,” he shares with you.

“I guess we’ll have to celebrate it this year,” you say.

His face lights up. “Really?”

“I want to give us another chance. I don’t think either of us are over it,” you acknowledge. “Last night aside, I want to take it slow. I want to take our time instead of rushing in like we did the first time around. I want to get it right this time.”

He nods immediately. “We can go as slow as you want. I mean it. I’m not letting you go again.”

“Good, because I don’t think we should wait to see if the third time’s the charm,” you joke.

“I’m glad I came this year,” he says as he grabs the thermos.

“Me too,” you agree.

It’s funny, you think, how someone can feel so familiar and yet so new at the same time. Seungcheol feels like home, like your favorite sweater, or like curling up with a book by the fire in winter. But, he feels entirely new, too. Like maybe you both changed over the past year. Maybe you both grew into the people you needed to be to love each other better. To love each other right. Later, you’ll have to break the bubble and face your friends. Right now, though, you can just appreciate that this silly little cabin trip brought you peace.

this was a lot of fun to write and i hope you liked it 💕

3K notes · View notes

deekaye · 3 months

Text

i want boo in my life alsooo😭

7PM - Boo Seungkwan

Synopsis: 7pm was always your favorite time of day. There was no longer a concern over deadlines and meetings. You get to slip out of your high heels and replace them with your favorite pair of fuzzy socks. The best part is when you get to debrief the day with your boyfriend, Seungkwan.

Pairing: Boo Seungkwan x reader

Genre: Established relationship, fluff, domesticated life with Seungkwan so you know you're going to be pampered like a queen

Word Count: 1.7k

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After unlocking the front door, you pushed it open. The smell of your home always makes you feel relaxed. You couldn't quite describe the scent. It just smelled so good that your body was filled with nothing but warmth and contentment. All your worries from the workday were left outside the moment you stepped in.

You hooked your keys on the key holder. Your set was the only pair hanging which made you frown slightly. You were hoping Seungkwan had made it home from work a tad bit early, so you could see him sooner. However, seeing as it was already 6:50pm, you knew that he would arrive shortly.

An audible sigh left your lips as you slipped out of your high heels. Your feet screamed out in appreciation at feeling the floor beneath you. Even hardwood flooring was preferable to wearing high heels all day.

Finally being at home, you began to maneuver through your shared home. You smiled at the wall lined up with photos of not just you and Seungkwan over the years, but photos with family and friends. It's been a while since your home was filled with people. Maybe you two could throw a party soon? You dropped your purse on the couch before beginning to head towards the kitchen.

Seungkwan never placed expectations on you when it comes to household duties. His sisters and mother definitely raised him well in that regard. He much preferred splitting responsibilities equally, but always opting for the heavier duty stuff. And even if he couldn't do it on his own, he basically had a whole artillery of friends ready to call up.

Yet, you took joy in cooking for him. You always saw it as an act of love by cooking him a warm-cooked meal. Especially now that winter is starting to settle in, there was nothing better in your opinion than a dinner prepared by your significant other. Plus, it allowed you to shower him with affection sooner if you at least got started before you got home.

What was in the fridge?

With end-of-the-year projects, meetings, and requests - you and Seungkwan felt like you were being pulled at different ends. When you had a late night, it seemed like he was able to get off early, or vice versa. Most of the reaction over the past couple of days has resulted in groggy 'good mornings' and sleepy 'goodnight' kisses.

When the weekend comes, you both were unfortunately stuck putting in overtime at your respective jobs. It was rare over the past couple of days for you two to actually have an sat-down meal. That also meant that it has been a while since the two of you made a proper grocery store run rather than picking up instant ramen to make at home.

Let's see what I can come up with. Your hands reached behind you to put your hair in a low, messy bun. Your fingers gently grasped onto the handle of the fridge, opening it.

Your eyes scanned every shelf, every corner of the fridge. The two of you didn't have much besides every condiment you could think of, a few tangerines, and a carton of milk you questioned if it was still good to drink. It really has been a while.

"What am I going to do?" You murmured to yourself. There was nothing even salvageable to make a meal. You didn't even want it to be the best meal you've ever made. What you wanted was at least to do something nice for your Seungkwan.

"Honey? I'm home."

Speaking of which. A smile curled onto your lips at the sound of Seungkwan returning home. God, you've wanted to be in his arms all day since the moment you had to get up for work.

"In the kitchen!" You called back. Admitting defeat, you closed the refrigerator door.

From the other side of the house, you could hear shuffling. You knew Seungkwan was taking off his jacket and setting his keys, hearing the familiar jingle. Who knew something so simple as keys making noise could be the best sound in the world.

The movement from the front of the apartment made its way closer to you. Knowing that Seungkwan was home just filled your heart with happiness, with comfort. He has been a source of refuge, of unconditional love for you.

Once you heard the footsteps turn around, you looked over to see Seungkwan by the threshold of the kitchen. "There's my girl," he murmured. He immediately opened his arms for you. You could never turn a hug down from him. This time, you were the one shuffling along to reach him as quickly as possible.

Your arms immediately wrapped around his torso. You squeezed his body, almost reassuring yourself that your boyfriend had fully arrived home. He smiled at the sentiment but also was concerned. You normally welcome him home with a kiss before nestling yourself against you. Only on the rough days did you find yourself like this, just seeing the comfort of his hugs.

Seungkwan didn't hesitate. His arms found themselves around you. He felt release a soft sigh into his neck. Oh, today was a bad day.

His arms ran up and down your back affectionately, just holding you close. "Do you want to talk about it, honey?" You shook your head. He knew better than press you too hard. When you were ready, you would fill him in. For now, if this is all you needed, then that's what you got.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head before dropping his lips to hover over your ear. "I brought takeout home," he whispered.

You never removed yourself from him so fast. You spun around, but stood right in front of you. Seungkwan chuckled as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. Seeing the happiness wash of your face is all Seungkwan needed. "God, you're really the love of my life." You turned back to face Seungkwan. Your hands cupped his cheeks, gazing up into your eyes. "I just looked in the fridge to see we didn't have much to eat, so I wasn't sure what we were going to do for dinner." "Well have no fear, sweet girl. Your dinner has arrived," he winked.

You giggled at his antics. You eased up onto your tiptoes, planting a lingering kiss on his lips. His hands moved from your lower back to his side. He hummed lightly against your lips as he allowed his hands to rest on your hips.

"Go get settled, honey. The food is already in the living room. I figured we could watch a movie tonight? I can also open that bottle of red wine we bought ages ago."

He spoke your love language.

You nodded your head eagerly, giving him one last hug. Before you could detach yourself from him fully, you allowed your lips to press kisses into his skin. He started blushing profusely, almost trying to hide his face in your shoulder. Your giggles against his skin vibrated throughout his whole body. He was so in love with you.

"Baby please," he whined. "Alright, alright. I'll go!"

You were fully detached to migrate towards the food awaiting the two of you. He watched as you walked away, the smile unable to be wiped from his face. How did he get so lucky to be in this life with you?

He worked quickly to fetch the wine bottle chilling in the fridge. Seungkwan's perceptions of love were framed around the love he witnessed from his parents. He never believed he would get lucky enough to be blessed with such a love, but then you came along.

With the trusted wine opener, he was able to uncork the wine bottle rather quickly. The soft pop sounded in the air. He was surprised you didn't come running at the sound, but it made him happy knowing you were relaxing.

From the moment he walked into the apartment, he could sense you weren't in the best mood. Maybe it was the indicator of your heels just thrown on the floor, or the way you didn't really hang up your jacket. He hated the fact he wasn't hear to mend your aching body sooner.

Carefully, he poured the wine into the wine glasses that he pulled from the cabinet. Once he saw it was filled to your preference level, he put the metal bottle topper in the bottle to keep it fresh. He also put the bottle back in the fridge, knowing you preferred it chilled. Tonight was all about bringing you comfort.

Grabbing the stems of the glasses, he began making his way back to you. His footsteps were light, so as to not startle you. You did have a tendency to fall asleep anywhere, and assuming you had been on your feet all day, he left nothing up to chance.

However, he saw you on the couch with your legs criss-crossed. You had left a spot open for him. What made his heart swell in the way you were already looking in his direction expectingly.

"Here you go, honey." He passed over the wine glass to you, which you happily accepted. "Why don't you go ahead and get started eating?" "I was waiting for you," you responded. You leaned over to kiss his cheek lingeringly once he settled in next to you. You pulled back to take a sip out of your wine before setting it down on the coaster on the coffee table. Not wasting anymore time, you bega opened up the white takeout bag to reveal the containers.

All the while, Seungkwan sat back and watched you. It made him feel prideful knowing he knew the way to help you at your lowest moments. He always admitted your independence and your willingness to put others before yourself, but he ultimately wanted to the the one to replenish your kind heart.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder once you discovered your takeout box. You began to eat as he leaned over, kissing the top of your head.

7pm was easily his favorite time of day. It was when he came back to you, that he could make sure you were happy even after the worst of days. It was when he was able to shower you with the love he couldn't do throughout the day.

7pm was when the rest of the world didn't matter because he was by your side.

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deekaye · 3 months

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uyukyeom’s july svt fic recs <3

the end of july has come and the rec list that literally no one has been waiting for is finally here! this month, i enjoyed reading almost 100 different fics totalling over 500,000 words, so i think i have credentials to say that the fics and authors listed below are some of the best!!

note: sorry this list is kinda empty, i thought it was reading more svt fics than i actually was </3

key:

content – s: smut (minors DNI), a: angst, f: fluff

✦ – written fic, ✧ – smau

☆ favorite!!!

Keep reading

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deekaye · 3 months

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one more drink — bsk

♡ pairing: boo seungkwan x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut (18+ mdni), strangers to lovers ♡ wc: 1.7k ♡ warnings: drinking, swearing, softdom!seungkwan, dry humping, oral (m. receiving), petnames (f. receiving - darling, baby, good girl, etc.)

You keep visiting your friend’s bar so you can watch his cute coworker from afar, but you never expected he’d end up taking you home one night.

“Last call, m’lady.”

You look up from your drink to roll your eyes at the bartender, who also happens to be your friend Jun.

“You’re such a dork.”

“Not as big of a dork as my friend who keeps coming to this bar to drool over my coworker.”

You glance past him at the other bartender, who is drying glasses at the opposite end of the bar. The sleeves of his white button-down shirt are rolled up to his elbows, showing off his toned forearms. You look back to Jun.

“Oh hush, it’s not the only reason I’m here.”

“Sure, sure. Of course not. Anyway, you want another drink or no?”

You throw back the remainder of the mojito that’s already in your hand. “Yeah, fuck it, why not.”

“Okay great well I gotta go do something in the back, so you can ask Seungkwan.”

Jun zooms through the double doors to the kitchen before you can even protest.

You sigh as you look back down at your glass. You begin mindlessly stirring the remaining ice with your straw.

You sit there for a few minutes, waiting for Jun to come back - but he apparently isn’t returning anytime soon. You look over to see what the second bartender is doing, but you accidentally catch his eye and he begins walking over to you. Shit.

“Did you need another mojito?” he asks as he goes to grab a clean glass.

“Nonono,” you stop him. “I’m good, thanks.”

He gestures to you with the rum bottle, which is already in his hand. “You sure?”

You think about it for a second. The eye contact he’s making with you right now is very distracting.

“Okay, sure I’ll have one.”

Seungkwan makes you your drink and sets it in front of you. You expect him to walk off, but he just takes a step back, his eyes still on you. You peek down to see you’re the last person sitting at the bar.

“Oh my god sorry, I don’t mean to be that person. I’ll close out now.”

“No rush, you’re fine.” He remains standing there, looking at you.

Feeling a little nervous, you pick up your drink and take a sip. You raise your eyebrows in surprise - this is the best mojito you’ve had in a while.

“Damn, your drinks are way better than Jun’s,” you tell him. His lips turn into a grin - one that might seem a bit smug on anyone else, but you can tell he’s genuinely pleased that you complimented him.

“Don’t tell him I said that though.” You go to take another sip but pause. “Actually, do tell him I said that. He’s been a little too confident lately.” He lets out an honest laugh, the sound musical. His perfect teeth flash with his smile.

You’ve never really interacted with Seungkwan for longer than a few seconds - you’re used to simply enjoying how good-looking he is from afar. You thought you had caught him watching you the last few times you’ve been here (your attendance has increased in frequency lately), but you chalked it all up to your imagination. Now you have your doubts.

Since Jun has apparently vanished into thin air, you two start to chat - mostly small talk, really, but your extra mojito is definitely making you a little flirtier than normal. You giggle through your conversation as he finishes up his bar tasks, and he seems to be enjoying the conversation too - he’s always had a very friendly demeanor, but you’ve never seen the man laugh and smile this much.

You’re not paying attention, so you don’t realize the whole bar has fully closed until you see the manager glaring at you from across the room, telepathically trying to make you leave.

“Well, I think I’ve definitely overstayed my welcome,” you say to Seungkwan with a pout as you get up and start to put on your jacket.

He leans on the bar toward you, his face closer to yours than ever. God, he is so beautiful.

“Let me drive you home,” he insists. Normally you would decline, but you’re a little bit drunk and Seungkwan is incredibly hot.

“My home or yours?” you say teasingly.

“Mine, if you’d like.”

You freeze. You never actually expected him to say that. His round eyes gaze at you, his mind clearly in the same place as yours. You can’t help but grin back at him.

—

You barely make it through Seungkwan’s front door before he pulls your body into his, his strong hand on the back of your neck as he kisses you. You make your way to his couch, pushing him down onto it and immediately straddling his lap, pressing your lips back onto his. Your tongue makes its way into his mouth and his into yours, fervently making out with him as he runs his hands up your back. Time is lost as he kisses you, soft moans from both of you as you feel his pants grow tighter under you. Eventually he can’t wait any longer - he slides his large hands under your shirt, taking it off of you and tossing it away. He pulls you in, giving you a kiss on your chest as he squeezes your tits through your bra.

“Stand up,” he speaks suddenly. You obey - he undoes the button of your pants with one hand, the other palming his bulge through his pants.

“Finish that for me, darling.”

You follow his order, taking off your pants and casting them aside as he watches you while undoing his belt. His pants unzipped to reveal the hardness in his underwear, he grabs your hips and pulls you back onto his lap. You moan as your core presses onto his cock through your already-soaked panties. Making out with him again, you can’t help but start to rock your hips back and forth, the friction against your clit sending you waves of pleasure. Your mouth keeps separating from his as you’re taken away in bliss, which you keep noticing and go back to kissing him, slowing your rhythmic pace of grinding against him. But he doesn’t let that go on for long - he pulls his head back and grasps onto your jaw softly, staring into your eyes lustfully.

“Don’t stop.”

You begin to move your hips again. He groans as he resumes kissing you.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he mumbles, his lips barely leaving yours.

If your underwear weren’t completely saturated before, they definitely are now.

You pick up the pace. The hand on your jaw goes to your ass as he grabs you with both hands, controlling your tempo. The faster you go, the harder he grasps onto you. The outside of his underwear are now damp where you have been pressing your pussy against him, pleasuring yourself against his hard cock.

“I wanna watch you make yourself cum like this,” he says, his voice low and raspy. You start to grind harder but he forces your hips to a stop.

“But - not until I say so. Okay?”

You nod your head at him.

“Words, baby. When can you cum?”

“When you say so,” you whine at him.

“That’s a good girl.” The words send a shiver up your spine as your hot core throbs. He gazes at you, practically licking his lips, watching you unravel before him.

You resume, his hands pacing you - every time you try to go faster, you’re met with resistance. But he slowly lets you rub your clit harder against him. Your whimpers turn into moans, getting louder and more intense the closer you get.

“Do you want to cum, baby?”

“Yes,” you cry, tears welling in your eyes. Every single nerve in your body is on fire. You won’t be able to hold it in much longer.

“Okay, cum for me.”

The release rushes over your body instantly. The sensation is overwhelming - you cry out as you ride out your orgasm, your body shaking into his. As you come down from your high, Seungkwan grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently tilting your head up to look into his dark eyes.

“Such a pretty girl.” His large hand rests on the side of your face. “So pretty cumming for me.” Your core pulsates against his heavy bulge.

You rest against him for a few seconds (minutes? hours?), your head nuzzled into his neck. Once you’ve recovered slightly, you sit up, planting another kiss on his lips before sliding down your knees.

“Your turn.”

Pulling the band of his underwear down, you take his cock in your hand, licking the precum off the tip before dragging your tongue up and down his length. He hums as you wet his cock, letting out a groan when you finally take him into your mouth. He places his hand on your head, pushing you down onto him, his length sliding down your throat. Your head starts to move up and down, tears running out of your eyes as you choke on him. Just like before, as you start to go faster his grip becomes stronger, this time against your hair.

“Taking me so well,” he moans. “Gonna make me cum in your mouth.”

You swallow him all the way to his base, his cock drenched in your spit. It only takes a few more pumps before his groans grow louder. You begin to moan against his length, and the vibrations send him over the edge. He holds your head down as he cums, his hips gently thrusting, white ropes hitting the back of your throat. His body relaxes into the couch as his hand loosens its grip on your head. You slowly take his cock out of your mouth, being sure to swallow every last drop of his cum.

He pulls you back onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your torso, drawing you into him so he can kiss your neck.

“So, are you gonna keep visiting me at work?” he asks you between kisses.

“Only if you keep taking me home,” you quip as you stroke his hair.

You feel his lips smile against your skin. “Sounds like a good deal to me.”

[end]

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deekaye · 3 months

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honey | guilty pleasures series | b.sk

Planning a wedding is not easy. It is one of the most difficult feats you had ever chosen to do. That and seeing Boo Seungkwan again. Seungkwan, the golden boy, the teacher's favourite. The person you had a stupid undying crush on.

✾ pairings: boo seungkwan x afab!reader ✾ genre: fluff, smut mdni ✾ au: theatre performer seungkwan, childhood crush to lovers ✾ word count: 10.2k

↣ check out my other fics – ko-fi

🍊— i want to dedicate this to the anon who requested a boo seungkwan series (•ᴗ•)

🎧: cotton candy – jinyoung | let me in – exo | candy – baekhyun

₊ nsfw tags under the cut!

✾ warnings: reader has a numerous family, reader has a sweet-tooth so there's mentions of food, smut with plot, foul language, big dick seungkwan, soft dom seungkwan, kwannie is lowkey a simp (?), hand kink, hair pulling, praise kink, pussy stretching, oral (f. r.), hushed sex, unprotected p in v sex. pet names: pretty, baby, honey (hers) ✾ a/n: please don't count the times seungkwan's hands are mentioned

part i — honey

A sudden dull thump echoed through the house, followed by the restless cry of the baby. In a matter of seconds, your mother's voice echoed from downstairs, urgently calling your name.

The particular tone your mother adopted when she called you, was off-putting, almost as if she thought you were being intentionally indifferent to her. However, at that moment you were in the middle of getting dressed. Your wet hair dripped onto the floor and your clothes clung uncomfortably to your still damp skin.

The bitter cold in the air made the idea of a shower rather unpleasant, but your mother told you that her friend's visit was imminent. So you hurried to get ready, your mother's urgency evident.

Your stomach churned as your name echoed through the corridors, and you knew that your mother was standing at the foot of the stairs, waiting for your answer.

"Coming!" you replied as loud as you could through the door of the tiny bathroom at your parents' house.

The baby's cries grew louder, drowning out the possibility that your mother had heard your response. Exasperated, you turned back your attention to the task of getting dressed, as the lingering moisture on your skin complicated the task unnecessarily.

As you left the bathroom, a feeling of annoyance swept over you, made worse by the cold that was contrasted by the steam in the bathroom. Attempting to dry your hair with a towel to no avail, you hurried down the stairs to the lower floor.

Almost instantly, your arms were heavy with the weight of the eleven-month-old who was loud enough to let you know her discomfort, but not old enough to tell you what the problem actually was.

"Yeri, let auntie take care of you, okay?" your big sister cooed at her child whose cries became louder as soon as she felt her mother's arms exchange for yours.

"Where's mom?" you asked your big sister, but she was already running out the living room and out the patio, stretching her arms wide as if she were a free woman.

The baby in your arms quieted down, and you arched an eyebrow at the blissfully aloof child.

"So it was all a show for mommy, huh?" you muttered, readjusting her in your arms. "Let's go look for nana."

At that, her curious eyes looked up at your face. "Nana," the baby babbled.

"Yes, nana. Nana, nana," you babbled continuously with the baby as you looked for your mother in the kitchen, in the service room and by the time it dawned on you she might be in the patio, the baby's arms were clinging onto your neck and wet hair.

Slightly annoyed by both Yeri's tight grip on your hair and your unnecessary tour on your parents' house, you walked out to the chill and sunny day. The grass on the patio was already ankle length and it had rained overnight so it was dewy, making you shiver instantly.

"There you are, miss!" your mother called and you raised your eyes from your bare feet to a number of strange faces.

"Mom," you babbled, much like Yeri's baby babbles. "Oh. Hi."

A faint voice in your head told you that you did indeed know these people and that you had better be on your best behavior. They were about the age of your parents, so you did your part and bowed your head to them, murmuring shy 'hellos' and introducing yourself as politely as you could with a baby in your arms.

They were two women and a man. All seated in the pretty chairs in the garden, soaking up the winter sun. You noticed that your mother had brought out a tray with tea and cookies that you had made in the morning.

"Are you the one getting married?" one of the two women asked.

You suppressed a sigh, instead you showed a rehearsed smile. "That would be my younger sister, Minnie, ma'am."

"I see," she pressed her lips in a smile.

The woman was not condescending, nor judging, but there was something hanging in the air every time this conversation was held.

Ever since your younger sister announced her wedding six months ago, you knew it was going to be a drag to come home for her big day. Being the middle of three sisters, one already married and a mother, and the youngest about to be married, there was a certain tacit friction in the air.

Yeri reached out with a tiny hand and slapped your cheek with the force that didn't fit her size.

"Shht–," you hissed and everyone turned their gazes to you.

"Did you say your son is coming too?" your mother averted the attention from you skilfully to the woman sitting at her right.

You bounced Yeri in your arms, making faces at her to distract her from abusing your face with her tiny hands.

"Yes, he is actually going to have a participation in the wedding reception," she announced quite proudly. "He's singing a ballad as per the groom's request."

Your ears perked up at this. You were in charge of managing the entire wedding's reception. From the moment the bride and groom take one step into the venue to the last guest leaves.

And you had no idea there was a ballad singing session at all.

So you frowned, following the conversation in the patio's corner, bouncing Yeri on your arms and babbling a full nonsense conversation with her.

"My son is in the same generation as your daughter, right?" the kinder woman asked, and you felt her doe eyes revert back at you. "They probably know each other."

"There he is," the dark haired man raised his arm to wave at someone at the distance.

You made no effort to look at the person being waved down, since you were still sticking to your unsuspecting act.

Yeri grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling incredibly hard that you had to crane your neck up attempting to free yourself from her tiny fist, but it resulted in her pulling harder.

At that same moment, someone entered through the patio door, bowing politely at your mom and dad, muttering soft hi's. The voice was honeyed, so sweet that for a second you wanted to facepalm yourself for not recognizing it instantly.

"Seungkwan, I trust you know–,"

"Ow!" you yelped when the fist that wasn't trying to yank your hair from your scalp punched you square in the nose.

Your eyes watered, but you still raised them to the frozen man standing between your parents and his.

"Yes. We were in the same class," Seungkwan replied slowly, his doe eyes focused on the struggle between you and the baby in your arms. "Hi, there. Long time no see."

Indeed it was. Seungkwan had lost all the squishiness of the teenager that you remembered and also used to have an embarrassingly obvious crush on. It wasn't only that he stood taller now, or the low bulk hiding beneath the oversized white t-shirt he wore.

"Hi," you replied flatly, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Boo Seungkwan was trying not to laugh at the scene in front of him. You soon realized with a twist in your insides. Probably the small tussle between you and Yeri was so entertaining that he couldn't stop looking at you.

"I was telling them about the song you're singing at the reception, Kwannie," his mother told him sweetly.

At that, you turned around to sneak away back into the house, thinking you were free for now. Yeri's chubby legs kicking in the air at your sides as you tried to go back inside into the warmer interior and away from the gossip.

Your mother called your name before you could even step a foot back inside. "Honey, I think you should hear this," your mother advised you, her voice low and sweetened.

You slowly turned back around.

Seungkwan yanked his gaze from you and the baby in your arm and sat on the bench beside between his and your mother.

"It's a surprise for the bride," Seungkwan began explaining directly to your parents, his hands talked through the process too. "There's this big story behind this song and Jisung wanted me to perform the song before the banquet."

Your lips parted in a tiny 'ah' and nodded, mentally making note of it to put it in your itinerary.

"My daughter is taking care of all the arrangements for the wedding reception," your mother said proudly too. "It would be nice if you two talked more so you're fully prepared for the big day, honey."

The big day would happen the following Saturday. There wasn't a single night you've rested peacefully since you arrived at your parents' house a week ago. Cursing the day you volunteered to take charge in the preparations, thinking it would be easy.

You were indeed not a wedding planner. You just thought that because you've organzed a few parties you could plan your little sister's wedding. But no, you were so completely wrong that you even felt scared away from marrying yourself.

The difficult part was dealing with the bride's demands. At the beginning of all this, you thought that she was nervous for her big day and wanted everything to be perfect.

But it got to a point you thought she might be having fun with having you going crazy to see her demands met.

You shifted your weight and the child in your hip to the other.

Seungkwan's brown eyes darted a look at you again and you started to feel annoyed.

He nodded twice with his head. "Would be a pleasure."

"Yeah, I have some questions about the–"

In that moment your younger sister arrived and your mother went crazy, showing her off to her guests. You abruptly stopped talking just before you were about to spoil the surprise, but thankfully, that gave you the opportunity to scurry back into the house.

The living room in your parents' house was completely cluttered with stuff for the wedding—ranging from decoration for the venue, accessories, table decor, silverware, plates, boxes of wine glasses, boxes of champagne, and so on. All selected by the bride but collected and arranged by you.

You were walking aimlessly with one phone in hand, child in the other. Eyes set on the reception itinerary to find a way to accommodate Seungkwan's little surprise for your sister.

"Are you hungry, bubu?" you asked the restless baby on your arm, attached to your hip.

"Who's the lucky guy?"

You gasped and turned around to find Seungkwan standing near the kitchen's entrance, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans.

"What did you say?" your eyes narrowed on his face, feeling betrayed by your own ears.

He took some steps towards you and Yeri, pulling one large hand to wriggle his lithe fingers at the baby who was already stretching her chubby little arms to him.

"She looks just like you," he muttered softly, his eyes focused on Yeri's dimpled hands.

As his words sunk in, you blinked slowly, understanding what he was trying to say.

"She's not my kid, Seungkwan," your voice dropped below a murmur. "She's my sister's."

His lips twitched ever so slightly, fighting a smile but his doe eyes betrayed him completely, panning from the baby in your arm to your face.

"She's literally a copy of you," he repeated, his finger was already wrapped by Yeri's tiny fist.

The comment took you off guard and you eyed Yeri's tiny face. You thought she looked like her mom, but it never crossed your mind that she could pass off as your own.

Seungkwan was now so close to you that Yeri could reach the collar of his white t-shirt.

"Take her," you muttered. "She's not going to stop until you do."

"Where is her mom?" he asked your older sister as the baby practically clung to his neck.

Seeing your old childhood crush carrying your baby niece was slightly mind-boggling. His face had lost all of the squishy aspect it used to have as a teenager, when his cheeks were fuller. All trace of his youth was gone.

That is to say, he looked really hot.

"You're taller," you blurted. "And bulky."

Seungkwan's big eyes landed on your face swiftly and he stopped.

"Pffft," he scoffed loudly in complete shyness and Yeri laughed aloofly. "Thank you, I suppose."

You averted your gaze from him, feeling embarrassed and hot on the face.

The Seungkwan you knew from your childhood and teenage years was far from being what the girls in your school deemed attractive. They always thought of him as a bit of a stuck up. Always the teacher's favourite, the golden boy.

And yet, you always had a secret, paralyzing crush for him during your teenage years.

So well mannered, talented and smart. Never partook in what the nice looking boys (although not many) did or wore. He was just so sweet. He was the kid who liked musicals, dance recitals and karaoke.

But you, well, you were quite the contrary.

You were always deemed the one causing a ruckus in the class. The one that didn't fit, the one that always said something shocking during family dinners.

"So you're in charge of the wedding preparations? Everything?"

"Everything," you nodded with a sigh, your hands located their usual position so far at your hips because of the accumulated fatigue in the lower back.

Before you could help it, your eyes examined the features of his face. As if you were taking in the details of a stranger upon seeing him for the first time. You notice the faint scar on his cheek, his long eyelashes, the beauty mark adorning the apple of his cheek

"I thought you and your sister weren't on good terms," he ventured.

"We're working on it," you put in simply.

You grew up in a small town where everyone knew each other and gossip was practically the community news, since your younger sister couldn't keep it to herself and told her friends, and her friends did the rest. So you weren't surprised that Seungkwan was aware of your disagreement with your little sister.

The argument stemmed from something insignificant, something you could barely remember in bits and pieces. However, you wanted to patch things up with her and, by extension, with your parents.

"Is that why you're organizing the wedding reception?"

You wondered why Yeri didn't attack your old childhood crush the way she did you.

"Nope," you sighed. "Maybe."

In truth, you felt pressured to do something. Ever since the fight with your little sister Minnie, your parents disapprove of all your decisions. You are the only daughter who is neither married or headed towards what they believe is a proper life.

Neither marriage or the more improbable possibility of motherhood were yet on your agenda. To make it clear to your parents, you moved to a big city to study and got a job that doesn't fit what your parents wanted for you, or what the thought was appropriate.

You were the first of the sisters to leave, stronghead, chin held high, proud of having plans of your own but stupid enough to see that you were not that capable to handle what would adulthood would demand from you.

It was one christmas when all fell apart and the cracks in your life decisions started to show. And you reluctantly remember it was your younger sister who pointed it out, driving the knife of your falling out deeper between you.

Seungkwan, ever the great judge of character, read well the energy on the house. He was gently swaying side to side, his motion was barely noticeable, but the baby in his arms had already fallen asleep to it. Yeri placed the side of her head on his shoulder, and he had a hand flatly covering the width of her back.

"I should take her home," you whispered. Your sister lived a few houses over, and you suspected you would find her there.

"Oh, it's alright," he put in quickly with a small frown. "Do you want to talk about the music number for the reception?"

"Yes! I almost forgot," you said embarrassedly. "Sorry, I'm all over the place. So busy with all the things I need to do before Saturday."

The corners of his lips rose slightly. "Tell me when you're available," he shrugged. "I'm pretty much free."

"Can it be tonight?" you blurted too quickly. "I need to have the flower vases ready and my sister now wants to gift her guests souvenirs so I have to get that done too for tomorrow."

When he locked eyes with you, a vague thought told you that you might be oversharing a bit.

"Of course, anything you need," he nodded diligently.

"Oh, don't be like that," you scoffed and wanted to hit his shoulder quickly.

You would've if it weren't for the baby still asleep on his shoulder.

"Like what?" he muttered with a pout.

"People pleaser," you shrugged. "You've always been like that."

He pushed his eyebrows, looking at you with some disbelief at your accusation. "I just want to help."

"Okay, okay. Help is appreciated," you conceded.

You slowly started to feel awkward for your comments and dropped your hands from your hips and thought of something to say.

"We should probably find your sister. I think your niece is drooling on me," he said suddenly and turned to show you the baby's mouth parted and the drool on his t-shirt.

You chuckled. "Follow me."

You stood in front of the large row of refrigerators, revelling at the sight of the cakes shown through the displays. Arranged aesthetically in colors and sizes, a myriad of pastries that for a minute you thought of changing your preferred desert for a strawberry cake.

"One honey cake, please. Oh, and an americano, please," you ordered kindly to the young man behind the register.

You paid and waited for your order at the end of the countertop. The bakery was a jewel you found on one of your past visits and were craving for something sweet. It soon turned into your favorite place to come to whenever you visit your parents.

The walls painted in pastel colors that matched with the chairs surrounding the round white tables. But you sat in a couch and set up your laptop on the coffee table and got to work.

Time slipped by as you cleared your emails, rearranged the itinerary for the reception and checked your checklist. There were a few things left to do before Saturday and you felt like you had little time to get them done.

The bakery's speakers played soft jazz that kept you focused on your tasks while sipping on your coffee and eating the slice honey cake slowly, because it was so good you didn't want to finish it.

You only raised your head from your laptop screen when you heard someone come into the otherwise quiet bakery.

Seungkwan now wore a navy blue jacket over the white t-shirt, his hand deep in one pocket while the other brushed his brown hair back. His eyes zeroed on you as soon as he walked in, and he waved at you.

"I'm not late, am I?" he asked when noticed that you were settled already and halfway through your plate.

"No, not at all. Sorry. I got here earlier because I wanted to do some notes for the itinerary," you explained briefly and pointed with your nose to your plate.

"What are you having?" he asked and looked at the menu displayed on a blackboard on the wall.

"Coffee and a slice of honey cake," you replied and took another spoonful of the desert. "It's really good."

Seungkwan's eyes reverted back to you when he heard you speak with your mouth full. He smiled softly. "I guess I'll get the same."

He went to the counter to order and you secretly watched him with your head lowered to your laptop. He was wearing a bomber jacket that clung to his torso from stuffing his hands so deep into its pockets that stretched the fabric forward.

That left room for anyone with eyes to see the way he was standing, in those washed jeans that hugged his body right around his hips and his round butt.

You almost gagged with a piece of almond from the cake and tore your eyes away from his body and pretended to preoccupy yourself with something on your laptop screen.

He returned some minutes earlier, thankfully the blush in your cheeks had gone away when he sat on the couch next to yours.

"It's been like... five years since I saw you last," he said, as he adjusted on the tight space between the couch and the coffee table where you had placed your laptop.

You pulled the coffee table to you, giving him more space for his long legs.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"No problem," you coughed awkwardly. "Yeah, it's been five years since I left town."

"I remember," he pointed. "It was quite the gossip. Not that I engaged in the conversation, but I was well informed."

He took a spoonful of honey cake to his mouth and his expression changed.

"As best as memory serves, I don't remember you and I being anything more than acquaintances," you quipped, but your tone was flat.

His gaze raised from his plate to find yours. "Well, I never found the courage to talk to you. You were kinda scary, you know."

Your breath coiled in your throat. "No I wasn't," you countered, but sounded really uncertain.

Seungkwan tilted his head to the side. "You really don't know, do you?" he blinked.

"Before you left, when we were younger, you were known as unapproachable, no one dared to talk to you," he sipped his iced coffee and pointed to the cake on his plate with his spoon. "This is really good."

You blinked at him feeling truly obfuscated. "I didn't know," you admitted. And it hurt to know so, since you always believed you were too uninteresting for him.

"In the boys' locker room, weekly stories were told about how you laughed at someone who tried to serenade you, or that other guy who sent you love letters and you corrected his spelling mistakes," he chuckled at that last bit.

You coughed up a laugh too. "That first dude had a terrible voice break, it was kind of hard not to laugh."

"Those were the kind of stories being told about you," he said. "I always thought they were a bit much. You seemed nice, quiet."

Your heart fluttered uneasily at the last words. "You think so?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Boys can be really mean when girls dare say no," he shrugged.

"I guess is a good thing I never knew what they said about me," you pointed with a flat smile. And then quickly changed the subject: "So, what is the plan here?"

Seungkwan raised his eyes as he sipped his coffee. "Plan?"

"When are you planning to sing? At the wedding reception, I mean," you mumbled awkwardly when he caught you looking at his mouth as he chew on some more honey cake.

You shifted in your seat and lifted your hands to tighten the scrunchie holding your hair in a ponytail as you waited.

He swallowed. "The plan was to do it before the banquet, or during if that's not possible," he said. "Or at least that's what your brother in law wants."

"'kay," you said and took a look to the itinerary you crafted. "It is a good idea to do it just before the dinner is served and then the toast."

"I'm assuming you weren't consulted about this," he deduced.

"Nope," you mumbled while you typed on your laptop.

"How does this work? They tell you what they want on their reception and you arrange it all? Or do they help around with a few things?"

"The first one," you replied flatly and ate the last piece of cake on your plate.

"And what do you have to do?" he inquired.

You sighed. "Everything pertaining to the reception, really. Food, flower arrangements, table decoration, the color scheme for everything, hiring services to all of this, and so on. But with all my sister wants to do on the reception, I need to have mostly everything scheduled."

"Sounds stressful," he mentioned.

You paused. "It is," you replied, feeling a bit surprised that he was the first one pointing that out. "I'm kind of liking it though."

"Do you like the stress?" he asked, settling his empty plate beside yours.

"No, god, no," you put in quickly. "The stressful part is dealing with so many requests with so little time, first she wants one thing, then she wants another."

"Maybe that's the best training for this type of job you can have," he said politely, and you understood that he didn't want to pry more into your life.

"Sorry, I was getting carried away," you muttered awkwardly.

He raised his doe eyes to yours. "Don't worry. I just didn't want to say something inappropriate."

"Like what?" you pressed.

He chewed his straw for a few seconds before saying: "Maybe she just wants to rough you up a little, you know, as payback kind of thing for your falling out."

"Oh, absolutely," you said with a chuckle. "But I can't really say anything."

"You should," he sent you a playful look.

You smirked back. "Maybe I should. It's just hard because it's family, and I have a lot to make up for. But enough about my family drama. Tell me about you."

Seungkwan seemed at a loss for words briefly.

"Did you get onto doing your acting career?" you asked, pretending to smooth out some hairs of your ponytail.

"You know about that?" he asked.

"I-, I mean yeah you were always pretty outspoken about it," you mumbled shyly.

"Yeah, I'm working for a theatre company now. And used to part time at a coffee shop until a few days ago," he said as his fingers toyed with the straw of his empty cup.

You realized in that moment that this was the longest you've ever engaged in conversation with him. And you were absolutely absorbed by his little mannerisms, the expression of his face, his little pout.

"Did you quit?"

"Yeah," he breathed and set the cup aside. "Was kind of sick of it. But now I'm hoping I get a role soon so I don't regret it."

"Oh, you'll sure find something," you blurted: "I always thought you were the best on school plays."

The corners of his mouth rose ever so slightly. "Thank you," he said softly. "I never saw you on the audiences."

"I had to be there, you know, for the extra points," you mumbled with a hint of uncertainty on your tone.

"Yeah, I know," he replied, his tone the same as yours.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the sudden tension and tightened your scrunchie.

His eye caught that.

You rose abruptly from your seat. "I'm getting a cookie, do you want something?"

His mouth fell open slightly. "I'm fine, thanks."

You approached the register and bought a chocolate chip cookie, and while you were waiting you glanced over your shoulder, trying to be inconspicuous.

Only to see Seungkwan tearing his gaze from you abruptly and got his phone out from his pocket. You smiled to yourself—for an actor, Seungkwan is pretty bad at pretending he wasn't totally checking you out.

"I think we should get going," you said as you were returning to your seat, and nodded to the staff starting to clean up and readying the place for closing.

The pavement outside the bakery was wet, and you slowly realized that it had rained while you were entranced in your conversation with Seungkwan.

He, in turn, didn't look as surprised as you. "Can I walk you home?"

You paused.

The idea of having Boo Seungkwan walk with you back home was tempting. And you weren't one to say no to something like that. Even though you spent the past hour with him, now you were completely alone.

"Sure, I'd like that."

You adjusted the strap of your laptop bag on your shoulder and walked towards up the street and onto the path that led to your parents' house.

The noise from paper unwrapping drew your attention to Seungkwan's pretty fingers as he took a cough drop to his mouth and noticed your curious eyes.

"Want one?" he offered with a cute smile.

You nodded with your head. "Thanks."

"You are welcome."

You sucked on the honey cough drop. "Do you consume these often?"

"They're more of a guilty pleasure of mine," he explained. "I used to get bad throat sores and found these. Got addicted."

You silently guessed that, in his line of work, Seungkwan's top priority is to condition his body to stay sharp and strong for the stage, and that included his voice too.

"So tell me," you mumbled when the silence got to you. "How did you end up being the musical number at my sister's wedding?"

You were walking through the park, which was the easiest way to your house by foot. It was quiet, except for the soft humming noise from the street lights.

"I had a debt to pay," he said.

Your eyebrows furrowed. "A debt? What do you mean?"

"Your brother in law helped me out of a tight spot once," he muttered softly into the cold air of the night. "I promised him that if he ever needed something, I'd be there."

Your mouth parted in a tiny 'o', wondering what would be the situation your brother in law helped him out of. "So he cashed in that for the wedding?"

He nodded. "Yep. He called me up last week, told me about the song and wanted me to sing it. Also invited me to the wedding, and that's how I got here."

"You'll be at the wedding too," you blurted. "They never tell me these things."

Seungkwan was holding back a playful smile by pushing the inside of his cheek with his tongue. "You don't want me to go?"

He lightly bumped his shoulder into yours and you swear you felt your whole body arouse with a jolt.

"No, no, I do, I mean, you're their guest not mine but, I should know where to sit you," you blurted nervously and pulled your phone from your pocket. "Do you have a plus one?"

"No," he replied shyly. "Did you really not know I would get an invite?"

You scanned the table and guest arrangements and sighed. "No one told me. I guess... I'll sit you on my table."

"You don't have a plus one?" he asked slowly.

You raised your eyes from the phone screen. "Um, no. I don't."

"Huh," he breathed lightly.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Where you hoping I did?" you frowned slightly.

"I was kind of hoping you didn't," he replied firmly.

You were both standing on the sidewalk across the street from your house. Seungkwan's eyes read your face silently, awaiting your reply with a smile that slowly rose on his face, as if he enjoyed seeing you stutter, searching for words.

"Why?"

"I want to catch up with you," he replied slowly, his doe eyes triangulated to your lips, then to each of your eyes. "Get closer to you."

"I thought I was 'unapproachable'," you quipped, but your tone sounded breathless and jittery.

"That was when we were kids," he tilted his head to the side.

"What if I haven't changed that much?" you breathed, realizing that Seungkwan had taken a step closer to where you stood.

"Well, time has a funny way of changing things," he said, holding his gaze on you. "It has changed one thing."

"What's that?" you breathed.

Seungkwan was so close that you could see the faint scar on his cheek under the dim streetlights. Your breath hitched almost bashfully when you came to the realization that your old childhood crush might still be so.

"That I finally dare to approach you," he mumbled.

Your breath faltered for a second, and an intense warmth spread across your face.

Then, you felt his fingers pinch your chin ever so slightly.

"You had a cookie crumb," he explained, rubbing his fingers together.

You blinked confusedly, processing his unexpected words. Then when you finally realized it, your hand flew to your mouth to pick up any trace of crumbs.

He smiled softly. "Well, we're here," he nodded to your parents' house.

Light-headed, you turned to see the porch and noticed a large package on the doorstep. "Oh, the flower vases got delivered," you noted with a little jump and crossed the street.

You inspected the large box first, and when you were sure it was the pack of flower vases you ordered you attempted to lift it off the ground.

Only to find out that it was really heavy.

"Need help with that?" he asked, looking at you with an amused expression on his face.

"Um, yeah, please," you said, stepping away from the box.

Seungkwan lifted the box with little to no effort, adjusting it once in his arms.

You guided him to your temporary bedroom, which was the study on the first floor of your parents house. It had no bed, since you were sleeping on a makeshift bed on the floor, surrounded by clutter from your unfinished tasks.

Flicking the lightswitch, you showed him where he could lower the heavy box. "Excuse the mess," you mumbled shyly.

"What mess? I don't see any," he said with a grin.

You scoffed. "Shut up," you rolled your eyes. "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked quietly, his gaze trained on you again.

"Helping me carry this," you said, and cleared your throat.

"Anything to help," he shrugged slightly.

"People pleaser," you joked with the ghost of a grin.

Seungkwan shook his head slightly. "No, not people. Just you."

The room stilled.

Seungkwan's big brown eyes were shifty, went from your eyes, to your lips and then to your neck when you held in a breath lightly. Then you noticed that his movements were calculated, almost as if he didn't want to make the wrong move, as if that would break the quietness of the moment.

Then, you were the one to make a move.

His lips were soft against yours, when you pressed against them tentatively, shyly. You gave one small peck and then stepped back but not fully, you were sure you didn't even blink but when you raised your eyes to see him again, he had closed his.

It was sudden, his arm encircled your back and brought you close to him, your chest flush against his. He leaned in his head to yours, and you closed your eyes, feeling his lips pressed on yours again, longer this time.

You heard the softest of sighs come from his mouth, his sweet honeyed breath land on your skin. And then again, his lips touched yours with a gentle peck.

"Kiss me properly," he said softly, but his request was firm, challenging.

You stammered, but didn't have time to talk.

His free hand was already on your chin, were two of his fingers held you gently, angling your face so his lips locked with yours.

Then it was the wetness, the warmth. The sweetness of it all when you parted your lips for his feathery kiss that ended too soon.

"God, I've been wanting to do that for so long," he whispered, not releasing his hold, not stepping back to see you.

Your heart skipped a beat.

"Se-seungkwan," you whispered back. "My parents are upstairs."

"I know," he replied quietly and then frowned.

You were breathing softly on his face, trying with all your might not to hyperventilate. The silence so deafening that it made your bones still, you were pretty sure that Seungkwan was trying not to break the silence too.

"We can keep it quiet," you said, your eyes shifting to his.

Seungkwan stifled a smile. "What are you suggesting?"

Your mouth parted and you were about to say something truly indecent. You must be losing your mind, something inside you said.

"Keep kissing me," you finally replied, pulling your head to see his face again. "Please."

His expressive eyes smiled softly, his hand still on your chin holding you gently before dipping his head to meet your lips with his in a sweet, wet kiss. Your lips parted for him and you were already holding back a moan the way it set your whole body ablaze, desperately craving for more.

When you finally found some will to command your body, your hands made their way to the back of his neck and you felt his soft brown hair, one hand on his nape and the other on cupped his cheek, feeling with your fingers his soft skin, the cut of his jawline.

His hand on your chin moved to your waist, clutching you before the one circling your back pressed you tighter against him. He landed a small peck on your lips before starting a trail of kisses on the apple of your cheek.

"Are you going to be quiet?" he asked softly on your ear.

"Y-yeah," you replied quickly with a whisper. "Why?"

"Can I kiss your neck?" he asked tentatively, his hand left your waist and cupped your face.

Flustered to the point of insanity, you nodded with your head eagerly.

There was no smiles, no hint of mockery in his eyes, he seemed determined in what he wanted.

And he wanted you.

"If you make a single noise, we stop," he conditioned, leaning his head forward to lock his doe eyes with yours.

"'kay," you breathed, your whole body tingling with anticipation.

He was only about to kiss your neck, but he must've read how touch starved you actually were.

Because when he leaned in, your head was already tilting to the side for him. The hand cupping your cheek held you angled for him and you felt your skin prickle the second his lips reached the soft skin under the lobe of your ear.

Your mouth parted involuntarily, releasing a brief sigh. Eyelids fluttering as his lips trailed down on the crook of your neck. Your hands found support on his shoulders, fingers curling on the fabric of his jacket.

Somehow the hand that was pressed flatly on your lower back had travelled down ever so slightly, one of his fingertips landed below the hem of your sweater and found your bare skin. The contact was so minimal, but it still had your brain losing all focus to the sensation of his skin against yours like that.

His wet kisses went down all the crook of your neck, to were the neckline of your sweater didn't allow him to proceed any further so he went back to kiss your lips.

Your bodies had already started to speak to each other, because you moved your head back upright and received his slow, passionate kiss eagerly.

But then he was the one to draw back first, he pulled his head back, looking at your eyes with a dark calmness that you slowly realized it was lust.

"We have to stop," he declared.

But he didn't attempt to move away, didn't tear his hands off of your body, not even his gaze from yours. Almost as if he were waiting for you.

"Please don't," you replied, reading his face. "I don't want to stop."

"Your parents are upstairs," he insisted so quietly that you were sure no one but you heard him.

"We can be quiet," you suggested with an innocent tone.

The corners of his mouth rose ever so slightly. "You know we're never gonna live this down if we get caught like this."

You moved your hands down from his shoulders to the middle of his chest, where you could feel his heartbeat thumping frantically.

"We better not get caught then," you breathed, darting a look up his big doe eyes.

His mouth parted slightly as his eyes read your face with disbelief.

Then he reached out to the wall behind you, then you heard the soft click of the lightswitch and the lights went out.

Your heart lurched in a mixture of anticipation and excitement. Feeling like a teenager doing something prohibited, as if danger loomed in the air but you were all too drawn to it.

"Can I take this off?" he asked softly, the hand on your lower back grabbed your sweater with his fingers.

"Yes," you sighed. "Please."

You finally broke away from his body but only to help him take your sweater off, exposing your torso in the dimness of the room. The only source of light now came from the translucent curtains that let the moonlight filtrate through.

Seungkwan seemed torn between looking at your eyes and your tits, still covered by the pretty floral bra you wore.

"God, this is insane," he breathed with a sigh, appearing to be letting go of what little control he had. "Come here."

His arms circled your back and he was again on your lips, kissing you fiercely now. His tongue swiped a line on your lower lip, demanding access to your mouth which you gave willingly with a soft breath, his hand pressed on your back gently.

Seungkwan stepped forward, his arms unwrapping your body so his hands could clutch your bare waist, the movement of his body pushed you back, making you stagger backwards and onto the desk.

"You're gonna be quiet, right pretty?" he asked softly as his hand travelled up the line of your back to unclasp your bra blindly.

You nodded silently and your hands moved to strip him of his navy blue jacket.

He successfully removed the straps of your bra from your shoulders, uncovering your tits fully for his view.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he sighed through a small smile.

His hands rested on the desk behind you, each on the sides of your body. You took his hands and guided them on your tits and you bit your lip hard the second you felt his touch on you.

You looked down where his pretty hands started kneading your breasts, a moan coiling on your throat when he used his thumbs to press on your nipples and them around before dipping his head to kiss you again chastely on your lips.

His hands stopped kneading and teasing your tits and you felt them again, tugging the button of your pants lose.

"You must be so tired from all the work you're being put through," he pushed his forehead against yours before giving you another feathery kiss on your lips. "I want to make you feel good," he whispered. "Let me."

You nodded, afraid of what the sound of your voice would be.

His fingers hooked on the hem of your pants, dragging them down and you kicked them aside on the floor. His lips returned to yours to give you hot, wet kisses as his hands cupped your ass, making you nearly moan in his mouth.

Your hands clenched on the shoulders of his t-shirt when his hands squeezed your ass. He wasn't harsh, nor gentle. It was a generous squeeze, much as if he'd been wanting to do that for a while now.

Seungkwan was completely dressed, whereas you only wore the panties that would soon be his next target. But he stopped kissing you on your lips, lading a soft peck on the corner of your mouth before saying.

"I want to taste you," he whispered, pushing the tip of his nose to yours gently. "Can I?"

"Yes, please, Kwannie," you breathed, nodding with your head.

The ghost of a smile adorned his face. "Be quiet, pretty."

You wondered how he would do it, if you had to sit on the desk behind you or lie down on the floor for him.

But Seungkwan got on his knees before you, making your heart lurch when he lifted his lust-filled eyes to yours and he bit his lower lip gently with a sigh.

God, he's so hot. You thought in that moment.

His pretty fingers hooked on the band of your panties to bring them down to your ankles and you stepped out of them, for him to toss them aside with your jeans.

Then he motioned your leg up with one hand, which he placed on his shoulder. You gripped the desk behind you when his lips touched your thigh, a shudder invading you almost violently as he made a trail to your mound.

You let your eyes close when his lips reached your mound, pressing softly on your sensitive and needy skin. The hand holding your leg on his shoulder helped angling your thigh so he could have more access to your pussy.

Your head dropped back, losing all grip on sanity when his tongue swiped a line between your pussy lips, tasting you fully. The hand that wasn't on your thigh clutched your hip gently before pushing you to the desk.

With some clumsiness, you understood that Seungkwan was motioning you to sit on top of the desk behind you and you did, splaying your legs open for him.

Then his mouth was back on your cunt, his tongue gave a generous stroke between your folds, tasting you with a soft sigh that you felt on your skin. Licking with his tongue at the sweet taste of your arousal to then glide from your folds to your clit.

He teased your clit with the pointed tip of his tongue, flicking at it a few times, to then swirl around it in figure eight motions and stuck to that when he felt your muscles clench, your legs tensing up around his head.

Your breath hitched when you saw him wrap his mouth around your clit, your hand snapping to the side of his head, when he started to suck and tease your swollen bud with his tongue, your fingers tangling with the soft locks of his brown hair.

The tension was too much, the need to scream out had you clamping your mouth shut with your hand, coming undone suddenly, almost brutally on his mouth, your hand clenching on his hair, body trembling on the desk erratically.

Seungkwan kissed your mound, your thighs and grazed them with his teeth tenderly as you came down from your high. Your fingers brushed his hair back gently as he did so, darting a look at you that made your walls flutter.

Your hand fell at your side when he got to his feet cleaning the corners of his mouth with his thumb.

"You're okay, pretty?" he asked, pressing his lips on yours.

"Amazing," you breathed and blinked slowly.

He smirked and pressed his lips on your forehead. "I have to get going now," he whispered.

"Bu-but what about you?" you whined, your voice no more than a whisper.

"I'm alright," he said, shaking his head lightly.

Your hand sneaked on his pants, finding the bulge of his hard cock. "Sure you don't want help with that?"

A low moan coiled in his throat and he pushed his forehead on yours. "I don't want you to get in trouble," he breathed. "Besides, I don't have a condom."

"We're not getting in trouble," you insisted with an innocent smile. "And I'm on birth control, Kwannie. Please?"

He stilled for a second. Torn between saying no and considering your insane proposition. The stillness in his house hadn't been disrupted yet, but the danger still loomed on you, like a sentient being waiting to get its claws on you both.

You leaned in to kiss him, but he backed away slightly, making you chase his lips teasingly.

"Sure you want to do this?" he asked, his fingers grazing your chin softly.

"I'm sure," you breathed on his lips. "I want you."

Gently, his lips locked on yours and you tasted yourself on his tongue when it met with yours. Your hand travelled from the middle of his chest down his abdomen, where you felt his muscles clench slightly at your touch.

"How bad do you want me?" he asked, leaning towards you on the desk.

"So bad," you whispered. "I need you. I really need to feel you, Kwannie."

His eyes fell to your lips and then travelled back up. "I like you calling me that, baby."

A shiver travelled down your spine and it might have been noticeable because Seungkwan smiled before kissing you softly to muffle the sounds your mouth would make when his fingers found your mound, trailing a light line down and between your pussy lips.

"Seungkwan, w-what–," you breathed when his two middle fingers dipped in your wet cunt, slowly sinking inside your tight gummy walls.

"Shh, I have to get you ready for me, baby," he explained.

The sight of his hand in between your legs almost had you whimpering, his fingers pulling out only to sink back inside. You bit your lip when his long digits curled inside your walls, stretching them open expertly.

His mouth parted a little, searching the sweet spot that would make you flinch, his eyes trained on your face. "Do you like this, pretty?" he whispered after seeing the telling expression on your face.

You nodded and gulped hard.

"There?" he breathed.

You nodded again, clenching your teeth.

The corner of his mouth stretched in a small grin. "You're so beautiful," he sighed. "I want you to see you cum, can you do that?"

You closed your eyes and nodded yet again and relaxed your body, focusing on your sweet release.

"Let go, then," he whispered. "I want to feel your pretty pussy squeezing my fingers."

Your hand found his shoulder to hold onto as you came again, your walls cramping around his long fingers erratically, and then, you exhaled softly through your nose, your eyes closed so tight that you started to see colors.

"Juuust like that," he breathed. "That's right, it feels good, don't it?"

You weakly opened your eyes to find his mesmerized face, his lips stretching slowly in a satisfied smile. A shudder invaded you when he pulled his fingers out.

"Open up," he whispered, bringing up his fingers to your mouth.

You opened your mouth took his fingers in, licking them clean of your arousal as you locked eyes with him. A fascinated look took on the features of his face when he withdrew his fingers from your lips with a soft smacking sound.

"Fuck," he breathed, leaning to kiss you chastely on your lips. "You're so hot, you have no idea."

You smiled on his lips as you tried to the best of your ability to undress him, starting with his t-shirt.

"I can't–," he whispered and then refrained. "Just the t-shirt, okay? In case I need to run."

You laughed silently. "Okay, mister," you replied impishly and took his t-shirt off. Revealing his lean torso, his beautiful skin.

With will on their own, your fingers travelled on the soft lines that marked his abdomen and stopped to undo the button of his jeans. You dragged his pants and briefs down slightly, only to get a glimpse of the soft v line. You swallowed thickly as your hand pushed the stretchy fabric of his briefs further down, revealing his fully hard cock.

You darted a quick look up his eyes, which were trained on your face already. "It's big," you breathed and shook your head slightly. "You're big."

Seungkwan tilted his head to the side a bit. "It's not that big, I think it's average."

The girth of his cock could fit properly in your hand when you grabbed it to pump it a few times, caressing the soft and veiny skin of his shaft up his pinkish cockhead, where the palm of your hand got smeared with the precum gathering on his slit.

He stifled a laugh when you sent him a doubtful look. "You're thinking it won't fit, or why are you looking at me like that?" he whispered gruffly, grazing his lips with yours.

"I know it won't," you replied in between his delicate kisses.

"Mm, I don't know, you might be exaggerating," he purred playfully. "Or maybe you're trying to back out. Which is just fine, baby. If that's what you want."

"No, I'm not backing out," you breathed, feeling challenged now.

Seungkwan laughed so softly that it made your insides churn. "Don't worry, I got you," he replied in the same manner as you. "You can ask me to stop if it's too much."

"Seungkwan," you breathed impatiently.

"Mm?"

"Just fuck me," you replied, the hands that rested on his sides travelled down his lower back and cupped his round butt, pulling him closer to your spread legs.

Seungkwan moved one hand to grab your hip, while the other guided his cock, only to tease you some more with a satisfied grin on his face when he glided his cockhead down your folds. You squirmed silently, darting a look down between your legs and back up to his eyes.

The hand on your hip tightened his grip slightly when he nudged his bulbous head in your wet entrance. Your breath hitched and Seungkwan instantly crushed his mouth on yours, muffling a whimpering noise as his thick cock started pushing in your walls with one slow thrust.

You felt your muscles go rigid from the slight twinge of the stretch. Holding onto him, your hands still firmly parked on his butt and only switched one of them to his back when he dragged his cock back and pushed it back in to his hilt.

"God," he breathed in your mouth. "You feel good."

You wished you could reply that he also felt good. In fact, it was the best you felt in a while. The warmth, the softness of his touch and the sweetness of his words.

Also the way his body seemed to fit perfectly with yours. His hands adjusted you to the edge of the desk and held you there for him to angle your legs wider as his hips connected fully with yours, stuffing his cock to the hilt inside you with a soft sigh.

He started thrusting slowly, as if he wanted you to first adjust to the size of him, his eyes trained on you to gather every single expression that your face made.

"Is this okay?" he asked when he pushed his hips flush against yours, his cock hitting deeper.

"Fuck, yes," you breathed. "Right there, please, please."

Seungkwan smiled softly, the tip of his tongue sliding on his lower lip in an expression of focus. His hands holding you in place started kneading your flesh, as if he were containing a desperate need to fuck you faster.

"Fuck, honey. You're not getting away with this," he said with a strain to his low voice. "We're gonna have to repeat this. In a place where I can fuck you hard, and you can be as loud as you want."

You muffled a whimper biting your lower lip and nodded with your head excitedly.

He smirked and one eyebrow quirked up. "You want that, pretty?"

"Yes," you breathed lewdly. "Yes, Kwannie."

He gave you a satisfied smile and your heart jumped wildy in your chest.

You released a sigh through clenched teeth as he fucked you with a steady pace, his eyes shifting between your eyes and lips, then to your naked body and you could notice the lust in his heavy-lidded eyes.

"I bet you are really stressed out from taking on so much pressure, baby," he moaned softly on your lips in between kisses. "Let me take some of that stress off."

Your breath hitched and you felt your walls flutter around his cock under the effect of his words. And you wondered for a second if he knew that you were loving it.

But you were too consumed by the need to moan, so you hid your face against the warm crook of his neck and nibbled with your teeth on his soft skin, trying not to scream out in pleasure.

At that, his hips stuttered. "Fuck," he muttered softly.

A hand grabbed you by your ponytail and yanked you from his neck as his thrusts picked up the pace, but still weren't as fast as you needed them, and he probably wasn't going faster to avoid making noise.

A moan bubbled in your mouth, unable to utter anything because your neck was stirred to the point that you couldn't even swallow properly.

"Behave," he stressed. "Can't be doing that tonight, pretty."

You were unable to even muster a simple nod. So you swallowed thickly and your hands moved to his shoulders, completely subdued by his deep slow thrusts, his hand clutching your hip, the other immobilizing you by your hair.

He dipped his head, taking the advantage of your craned neck to pepper it with tender kisses, his lips trailing from underneath your jaw to your throat, as he thrusted slowly inside you.

A thought crossed your mind—what would the scene look like. Completely dark, dead quiet. You wholly naked and sitting on top of the desk, legs open wide for Seungkwan, who was fucking you hard and deep, each thrust paced slowly, much as if he didn't want to rush it.

Seungkwan let go of your ponytail gently, his hand travelling down to cup your cheek. "Feeling good?" he asked with a strained whisper.

"Perfect," you replied. "You feel so good."

He nodded and locked his lips with yours, to then begin a trail of kisses to your cheek and stopped in your ear.

"I'm close," he whispered. "Do you want me to pull out?"

"No, no, please," you replied in the same manner. "Can you do it inside of me?"

"Sure, pretty?" he kissed the lobe of your ear when you nodded desperately. "But I want you to cum one more time for me."

"I don't think I can, Kwannie," you breathed.

"Yes you can," he countered. "You've been so good for me, honey. I know you can do it again."

Your jaw trembled slightly. "Kwannie..."

"Do you want me to help you?" he asked softly, sneaking a hand where your bodies joined.

And then you felt the pad of his thumb pressing on your clit, as he started rubbing gently in circles.

Your hands held onto his shoulders tightly as your body started to shake and convulse on the desk, tension building up your body, making your teeth clench and your breath hitch.

"That's right baby, see?" he whispered. "I told you you could do it."

You arched your back, head hanged back as you were consumed by your third orgasm, falling deep in a haze of lust and fascination over the man fucking you so good that almost made you forget your own name, forget where you were.

He rode your high until he was certain that you came down, when you lifted your head and opened your eyes to see him. That's when he removed his hand from your mound and took your hips with both, only to hold you firmly in place.

"Fuck, honey," he breathed, shuddering slightly. "I'm there."

Then he started plunging his cock deeper with slow thrusts, making his head bump once with yours and you cupped the back of his head, and he pressed his forehead to yours.

"I'm cumming," he whispered and his swollen lips parted, his breath quivered slightly before he made himself stop breathing to not make a noise.

His hips slammed sloppily against yours and thanks to the position your bodies where in, you felt him come. You felt his cock throbbing inside your walls, spilling his cum deep inside you. And the telling look on Seungkwan's face, his eyelids fluttering, the tip of his tongue hanging slightly over the corner of his lips.

You encircled your arms around his neck when his thrusts ceased, the hands that held onto your hips clenched and relaxed repeatedly, as if he were trying to regain focus.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

You nodded.

He released a shaky breath. "I'm pulling out, ready?"

You looked down as his hips retracted from yours, pulling out his cock, fully wet with his and your cum. A shudder shook your bones and you had to suppress a sigh of pleasure.

Seungkwan fixed his pants swiftly, but his hands returned to your thighs to give them a squeeze. "I have to go," he said reluctantly, and he paused. "I want you to have a warm shower and go straight to bed, okay?"

You stifled a laugh. "Okay, mister."

"I'm serious," he leaned in to give you a delicate kiss on your lips. "No more working for tonight."

In that moment, you were swept by a strange feeling, akin to being understood and seen. However, instead of it offering you some clarity, it left you deeply enthralled and craving for more.

"Okay," you replied.

Seungkwan appeared to be considering something for a long second, his face broke into a shy smile before saying: "Can I have your number?"

✾ a/n: hi hi hi there!! first of all, i want to thank the nonnie who requested a seungkwan fic, i hope you know you haven't left my noggin since that day, and i hope you liked this! (づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡

i tried to get this out by seungkwan's 26 bday, so i sincerely apologize if there's any embarrassing mistakes or continuity errors, please ignore them 🥺

if you liked this, please let me know? i'd appreciate a reblog, a comment, like, my ask box is always open, don't be shy!

thanks again to 🍊— nonnie! i hope you're doing fine and that you liked this! hehe ♡︎

→ also thanks to @cvntrlseecvntrlvee who kept my seungkwan brainrot alive with seungkwan thirst edits 👀

I ALSO WANT TO TELL YOU THAT I AM SO SO EXCITED TO READ THIS SERIES! i've literally started outlining when nonnie suggested a seungkwan fic and have had so much fun planning and writing!!

k, that's it. happy belated boo day! 🍊

toodles

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deekaye · 3 months

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Lavender Haze | kmg x reader

Rating: M (18+) | WC: 2.8k

Posted first on my patreon

Warnings: drug use (marijuana), shotgunning, mention of spanking, mingyu holds u down, fingering, oral f. rec., naked reader clothed mingyu, big dick mingyu, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, condomless piv sex, squirting, creampie

Reader Notes: has vagina and breasts, wap

“Baby, look at me,” Mingyu requests, taking your chin between two fingers and tilting your head up so he can lock eyes with you. You’re curled up next to him on the couch, lo-fi playing on the TV and your sunlamp set to a lavender fuchsia as you trade one of the blunts he rolled earlier. Your head feels heavy so you’re thankful he’s moved it for you, and when your vision finally focuses on him, you can’t hold in the gasp that rises.

He looks… ravenous.

His eyes are half-lidded, his pupils dilated so much you can hardly differentiate them from the rich espresso of his irises. You know what this look means, what it means for you, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t already feel the heat rising in your belly as he stares at you.

His lips part before they land on yours, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip and his tongue sliding over the stinging flesh to soothe the pain. Mingyu always soothes the pain, always smooths his hand over your ass after a spank, always carries you to the bath after he’s fucked you so hard you can’t walk, always covers every mark and bruise and sore spot with a kiss.

He always takes care of you, and that’s why you trust him to take off all your clothes, and lay you down, and place the still burning blunt in your mouth. You purse your lips around it so it doesn’t fall out, taking a deep hit and cupping his cheek in your hand to bring him back down to you.

Pressing his open mouth to yours, he pulls the smoke from your lungs before breaking away to blow it out. His next kiss is harder, headier. He sucks your tongue into his mouth and lays a hand on your throat, not to squeeze but to remind you that he’s there, that you’re his and he’s yours. He plucks the blunt from your fingers and sits up on his knees to take in a deep breath of smoke, leaning down to exhale it into your open mouth before putting the blunt out in the ashtray and covering your body with his.

He kisses you until you’re breathless, until your head spins and your core throbs, until his every touch makes you gasp and whine and dig your nails into his skin. You almost feel delirious with want by the time his lips part from yours, and you’re just about to beg him to touch you when you feel his hand, big and hot, between your thighs.

Your back arches at the pressure, at the way his hand covers the whole of your pussy, and when he digs the heel of his palm into your clit, you keen. The sound is sharp and high, drowning out the music playing in the background and making Mingyu beam. He loves breaking you down, loves taking you apart and putting you back together, and you know he knows this sound is just the beginning.

His fingertips play with your entrance, two fingers dipping in and out and starting to stretch you for what you’re sure is to come. Mingyu’s cock is big, just like the rest of him, and even after three years together, he still has to open you up for him. He loves it, loves that every time you take him is like the first, that when he pushes inside of you, he has to make space. He loves that your cunt molds to the shape of him, hugs him like a vise and sucks him in deeper and deeper until he never wants to leave.

You know all this because he tells you. He’s telling you now, as he sinks those two long, thick fingers inside of you.

“Pussy’s so perfect for me, baby. I fucking love how you wrap around my fingers, can’t wait to feel you on my cock.” His voice is raspy, deep, like he’s been praising you for hours already, and you can feel yourself get wetter, feel your walls squeeze at the thought of his cock splitting you open.

His fingers curl, searching for the spot that will ruin you and finding it with devastating ease. Your hips jump when he rubs over the patch of nerves inside you, your heart fluttering at the grin that rises to his face as he starts to work you up. It won’t be long now that he’s got a lock on your g-spot, and you can only hope he’ll decide one orgasm is enough for him to fuck you.

“So fucking wet, baby. You can hear it, right? Listen,” he breathes, spreading his fingers and rocking them in and out so the obscene sounds of his movements inside you grow even louder. You whine and squeeze your eyes shut, feeling incredibly naked and exposed before your fully clothed boyfriend. You can’t say you don’t like it though, that he revels in your reaction to him.

It makes you feel special, cherished, like he’s still trying to earn you even three years later. It also makes you feel hot, inside and outside, and as you watch him watching you, the knot inside you winds tighter and tighter.

The pad of his thumb presses to your clit, rolling over it one, two, three times, and you’re a goner. Your back arches, your voice caught in your throat and your eyes watering as Mingyu fucks you through it. His lips are stretched in a feral grin and his eyes are full of heat, his cock hard and pressing against the fabric of his gray sweats.

He doesn’t seem to care about his own need, slowly withdrawing his fingers and sliding them into his mouth with a groan before placing his palms on the backs of your thighs. He folds them up to your chest, leaning down and spreading you open, his mouth just inches from your cunt.

You know he likes to look, so you let him take in his fill, feeling your pussy clench and your clit throb under his watchful eye. You should be ready for him to lick into you, but you’re not. His tongue makes you jump, makes you tremble, the hot, wet sensation almost too much in your afterglow.

He moans into your pussy, the vibrations sending a shiver down your spine that ends with a buck of your hips. Mingyu nods and presses in harder, his nose digging into your clit and his tongue delving into your entrance. He fucks you with his tongue, shaking his head from side to side to get in deeper and groaning throatily when you clench down.

His tongue leaves your opening to glide through your folds, laving over your clit again and again until you cum with a cry, your legs shaking and your toes curled. He’s relentless, pushing you through your second orgasm and trying to pull you right into another with his lips wrapped around your clit and his tongue tap tap tapping at it.

You try to writhe away from him but he’s too strong, too insistent that you receive the pleasure he’s dying to give you, his hands firm on your thighs and his bodyweight holding you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it, and you feel him smile against you as you give in, untensing your muscles one by one and settling further into the couch cushions.

He eats you out for hours, days, weeks.

Until you’ve lost the ability to count your orgasms, until tears stream down your face, until you can’t feel your legs or your arms or the couch beneath you. He devours you, body, mind, and soul until he’s had enough, or at least until he decides you’ve had enough.

You stare blankly up at the ceiling, your vision blurry and your breaths uneven, as Mingyu carefully unfolds you. He pulls your legs down around his waist, massaging your thighs to work out any knots that formed before smoothing his hands reverently up your body.

“You okay, baby?” He checks, hovering above you on one arm and cupping your cheek with his free hand. He furrows his brows, biting at his lip and brushing away your tears with a gentle thumb.

You nod as best you can, your eyes finding his face and your heart warming at the concern in his expression. You’re exhausted, your cunt a throbbing wet mess and your brain a tangled web of nebulous thoughts, but you still need one thing from him.

You need to feel his cock spreading you apart, filling you up, making you whole again. You feel empty now, like a piece of you has been carved away and Mingyu is the only one who can replace it.

“Will you fuck me?” You ask pitifully, your voice weak and thready.

“Baby, no, I just made you cum, like, four times. You should rest, I can take care of myself.”

“It’s not about you,” you whimper, “Well, I mean, it is. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I just want your dick in me so bad.”

“Oh,” Mingyu breathes, biting his lip and letting his eyes rove over your spent body. You can tell he’s contemplating whether you can take him or not and you take the chance to look over him. His lower face is soaking wet, glistening in the light of your sunlamp, and the collar of his t-shirt is damp with you too. His hair is a mess from how he was shaking his head before, and you can see precum dotting his sweats where his dick presses against the front of them.

He looks so insanely hot, and if he doesn’t fuck you, you know he’ll at least let you watch him make himself cum. You can already imagine it, his face and his sounds and the splash of his hot cum on your belly or your tits or your face.

But it seems today is your lucky day, because he sits back up on his knees and yanks his shirt off before shoving at his sweats and swearing as they catch on his hard dick. It bounces free of the fabric, thick and long between his legs and so deliciously hard you’d want him in your mouth if you didn’t need him in your pussy so bad.

He smirks down at you, taking hold of your legs and curling them up to your chest yet again. Your hips will hurt later but it’ll be worth it, the kind of ache that will bring a little smile to your face all day. Bracing an arm across your thighs to hold them up, he takes his cock in his free hand, pumping it a few times before lining it up with your entrance.

You watch his smirk fall as he gazes down at you, his eyes burning with love-tinted desire and his swollen lips parted on a sigh. He sinks inside you slowly, splitting you open inch by maddening inch, and you feel your breath catch in your chest when he bottoms out. He’s so big, it’s like he’s making room, making a home inside you.

You would let him, would let him make a home inside you and stay forever, if it meant you could always feel him like this.

And see him like this, you think. His eyebrows are scrunched up, his eyes clenched shut and his mouth open as little hitching gasps escape. This is always the moment where you understand why he revels in your reactions to him, and you can’t help but do the same. It just feels so good to know you’re making him feel good, and it feels even better to squeeze down on him and listen to him whine in response.

He forces his eyes open, furrowing his brows at you and retaliating with a sharp thrust, the head of his cock kissing something inside you that makes your eyes roll back. You don’t see the wild grin that rises, but you feel everything. The prickle of his canines on your neck as he bites his way down your throat, the sting of bruises forming under his fingertips as he holds you down, the stretch of your walls around his cock as he grows impossibly harder inside you.

It’s all so much, almost too much, and when he hits that spot again, you feel it.

It being a release so strong, you just might have to get the couch cleaned.

You can’t care about that right now, can only care about Mingyu’s cock moving in and out of you and the words flowing out of his plush, pink lips.

“Taking me so well, baby. Like you were made for me,” He groans, “And I was made for you, right?”

You nod weakly, gasping, “Yes, Gyu,” and bringing your hands down to cover his on your thighs. You curl your fingers around Mingyu’s, needing another point of contact to anchor you as he fucks away thoughts of anything but him.

You’re getting close, and you know Mingyu can tell. He knows you inside and out, knows that when you’re about to cum, you get even wetter and tighter, that your sounds take on a desperate tinge, that you can’t decide whether to take it or run from it.

Mingyu untangles his hands from yours and hefts your legs up onto his shoulder so he can lean down and bend you in half, fucking you even deeper than before. You yelp, inevitably trying to run from your fifth orgasm of the night, but you have nowhere to go. Mingyu’s body is curled around yours, his hips pinning you to the couch and his dick so big in you, you can feel him in your throat.

The wave is coming, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it, especially when he works one hand between your bodies and sets two fingers on your clit. He swirls circles over the swollen, raw bundle of nerves, shushing you when you start to keen, reminding you, “You wanted this, baby. Let me give it to you.”

Crying out, you raise one weak arm and sink your fingers in his hair, pulling him down into something that can barely even be called a kiss. It’s more an exchange of air, of moans and whimpers and whines, as he pushes you over the edge.

Your vision whites out, your breath stalling in your lungs and your nails digging into his scalp. You think you might be screaming, but you can’t be sure because there’s no sound, just a high-pitched ringing in your head. You’d be gushing if his dick wasn’t plugging you up, and on his next stroke out, your wetness splashes out against his lower abs, your walls clamping down to bring him back inside and keep him there.

Mingyu groans into your mouth, his voice low and rough, and slides home one more time before rooting himself deep and letting go. You can feel his cum shoot into you, feel it painting your walls and mixing with your own slick as he trembles against you. He stays there, locked inside you and keeping you full, until your hearts stop racing and your brains start to come back online.

Pressing a gentle kiss to your chin, he pulls away slowly, sitting up to watch his cum trickle out of you. Globs of it trail down your stretched pussy to your ass, and just before it can touch the couch, he scoops it up with two fingers and pushes it back inside of you. He knows you can’t move yet, and you know he doesn’t expect you to, so you just lay there and let him look.

His eyes stay on you even as he leans over to the ashtray on the coffee table and grabs the half-burned blunt, looking away only to light it before he offers it to you. Your fingers shake as you take it from him, your inhale deep and relaxed. He bends down to accept the smoke when you purse your lips, connecting his mouth to yours and breathing in as you breathe out.

“Love you,” you exhale, staring up at him with what you’re sure are hearts in your eyes.

“Love you too, baby,” he beams, smoke escaping with his words before he turns his head and blows it all out.

You know he’ll need to clean you up soon, but for now, you just trade the blunt and sweet nothings back and forth, watching each other through the lavender haze until the sun starts to rise.

My Masterlist

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deekaye · 3 months

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hi im deekayee and i love oranges and cats🍊🐱

masterlist (i have lots in my drafts maybe post it soon 🤔)

fave and rec (soon maybe)

ps. im only starting to know tumblr but why it seem so hard. Anyways.. let's be friends🥰

ps. listen to seventeen 'when i grow up' for better life and clear skin.....and love seungkwan. bye

#Spotify

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deekaye · 3 months

Text

driving lessons for dummies

❝ i can't parallel park, but i know all the lyrics to 'driver's license' by olivia rodrigo now. ❞

PAIRING ▸ kwon soonyoung x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, humor, smut, strangers to lovers au, college au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, weed consumption, mc has the worst luck imaginable, soonyoung is down horrendous, there is a minor car crash, very minor description of blood, hurt/comfort, almost car sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), grinding, oral (fem. receiving), praise, lots of teasing, overstimulation, pet names (both sexy and unsexy), friend group shenanigans

SUMMARY ▸ you've finally passed your written test and gotten your permit after six failed attempts. eager to get your license while attempting to avoid overpriced driving lessons, you enlist the help of kwon soonyoung, who only requires a STIIZY pod as payment.

PLAYLIST ▸ new romantics by taylor swift • see you again by tyler, the creator, kali uchis

WORD COUNT ▸ 16,834 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this is representation for all the girlies out there who can't drive. not me but

ONE OF THE MOST COMMON STEREOTYPES PERPETUATED AGAINST WOMEN WAS THAT THEY WERE DEEMED TERRIBLE DRIVERS.

That, or they just flat-out couldn’t drive to save their lives.

This sexist notion dated back to when the automobile was created, when driving was physically demanding work and men insisted they handled operating the vehicles themselves. Now, though, plenty of women drove just fine, but misogyny was the only thing keeping the stereotype relevant.

After all, the only reason why women were considered “bad drivers” was because a man decided they were.

Screw all the women who revolutionized the automobile industry, right? Despite them being highly discouraged to take on the labor required of men, it was Bertha Benz who drove the furthest in a motorized carriage than anyone else. It was Anne French who was the first woman to receive a driver’s license. It was Marget Wilcox who invented the car heater, Mary Anderson who created windshield wipers, and Hedy Lamar who designed the wireless transmission technology that made the innovation of the GPS possible.

No matter how high that glass ceiling was, even if a woman demolished and obliterated it to pieces, there would always be a man out there who would push her right back down.

Unfortunately, you were nowhere near smashing that glass ceiling because you had failed your permit test six times.

Yes, it was embarrassing, but you were determined to get your license. At your age, it was getting ridiculous that you had consistently failed your permit test this many times. Plus, you were getting tired of asking all of your friends for rides. You envisioned picking them up in your new car with your shiny new license, grinning smugly at the shocked looks on their faces.

“I don’t think God wants you on the road,” Wen Junhui, your best friend since middle school, said as he dropped you off at the DMV. “If you fail a seventh time, I would personally just use public transportation for the rest of my life.”

“If a sixteen-year-old can pass it without studying, then I can pass it,” you insisted. “Plus, I read the entire manual last night.”

“Yeah, except the sixteen-year-old passed it on their first or second try, and this is your seventh.”

“Well, seventh time’s the charm, right?”

“Right,” he replied, doubtful. He stopped the car in front of the DMV to let you out. “Well, good luck. I’m gonna go get gas and I’ll come back for you.”

“Thanks, Jun!” you chirped. “I swear I’ll pass it this time.”

“Sure.”

“Have some faith in me, please.”

When Junhui drove away, you steeled your nerves to mentally prepare yourself—not for the test but for interacting with the DMV employees. You weren’t a fan of being verbally abused by them, especially after having them roll their eyes at you the last six times you had to tell them you failed.

But today would be different.

Thankfully, the DMV wasn’t too busy today. You only had to wait twenty minutes until they called your number. After handing them the proper paperwork, you were directed to the computers to take the permit test.

Since you were an adult, you only needed to get 30 questions correct out of 36. You had learned your lesson by now, so you actually studied the handbook this time. It took a while to admit to yourself that you weren’t blessed with common sense.

First question. Wrong.

Second question. Wrong.

Third question. Wrong.

What was happening?

By the time you had gotten five questions wrong in a row, your hands were shaking. The pressure started to set back in, and you were terrified about failing this exam a seventh time. Junhui would be so disappointed if you told him you failed again.

You felt the back of your shirt cling to your skin once the sixth question was incorrect. This was ridiculous; you had studied, but these questions were strangely specific. It was like someone at the DMV had it out for you.

Maybe Junhui was right. Maybe God didn’t want you on the road.

You felt like your brain had entered auto-pilot to protect yourself from the discouraging loss of your permit yet again. You clicked through the rest of the questions mindlessly, hardly thinking about anything until—

You passed!

The white screen flashed in your face for about a minute before you could register it properly. All you could do was blink and stare until you pinched your wrist to make sure you weren’t seeing things.

Had you really gotten the rest of the 30 questions right after your consecutive failed attempts? You were so worked up over the six you missed that the rest felt like a blur. Maybe the problem was that you had been overthinking the test this entire time.

“I did it,” you breathed out to the woman at the counter, still in disbelief. “I passed.”

“Congratulations,” she replied with little enthusiasm. She turned to grab papers from her printer, stapled them together, and handed you your brand new permit. “Have a nice day now.”

“Thank you so much,” you replied, slightly distracted as you inspected your learner’s permit with wide eyes.

You had been waiting for this day for so long, and here you were, holding the permit you had spent years trying to obtain. You could only imagine how thrilled your parents and friends would be once they found out.

Speaking of friends, when you checked your phone, you saw that Junhui had texted you five minutes ago that he was parked outside. He probably expected you to walk out with a gloomy expression and slumped shoulders, but you had a skip in your step this time. You finally had good news for your best friend.

“Jun!” you yelled before you even opened the door to the passenger’s seat. “Jun, Jun, Jun, Jun!”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said sympathetically, but something about his automatic response definitely felt practiced, “you’ll get it next time.”

“No, Jun, I passed!”

His eyes went wide. “You did?!”

“I did!” You squealed and practically jumped into the seat. Sinking back, a wide grin stretched across your face. “I finally did it.”

“Yo, congrats.” Junhui grinned. “I guess the seventh time really is the charm, huh?” He started his car to pull out of the parking lot. “Well, now you just have to pass the driving test.”

Your face fell.

You had been thinking about the permit test for so long that you forgot there was an actual driving component, too.

First of all, you had never driven a vehicle in your life, not even illegally with friends. Second of all, you had terrible depth perception, which was probably not a great flaw to have if you wanted to drive. Thirdly, everything you prepared for the permit test had completely ejected from your brain. Your road sense was back to utterly clueless.

“I’m gonna fail,” you said, defeated. “Jesus Christ, Jun, I didn’t even think about the actual driving test!”

“Relax, driving’s easy once you get the hang of it,” he replied. “What you should really be worrying about is how expensive those lessons are.”

“How much are they?”

“Uh, like, close to a few hundred.”

“Total?”

“No, per lesson.”

“Per lesson?!” you cried. “Just for someone to tell me where to turn and brake? I can’t afford that!”

“I’m guessing most of it is because they’re willingly sitting in a car with someone who doesn’t know shit about driving,” he explained, “but, yeah, it’s a crazy price. You do need to get that license before your permit expires, though, and you should probably get it done while you’re still here for college so you don’t run over the elementary schoolers back home.”

You buried your face in your hands and let out a loud groan. “How am I gonna dish out hundreds of dollars? I don’t have that kind of money to spend when I have rent to pay off.”

The corner of Junhui’s mouth lifted, more so exasperated than amused when he said, “I think I might know a guy.”

Kwon Soonyoung.

Junhui sent you his number after he dropped you off at your apartment. Apparently, Soonyoung was one of his good friends who also happened to have a side gig where he gave out driving lessons at a discounted price. Of course, the downside was that Soonyoung wasn’t exactly certified to teach people how to drive, but he was allegedly a good driver.

His lessons were normally for high schoolers, and he charged their parents around a hundred. For adults over the age of 21, though, he had a special offer that you couldn’t resist.

You texted him to ask if he had any open spots for you. He took a few days to reply, but you eventually got a two-hour slot for the next week. You weren’t sure how effective his lessons would be, but you figured you would give it a shot since he was your age and giving out classes for cheap.

When the day of your lessons rolled around, you were slightly anxious while you were waiting for him to arrive. You needed Junhui to reassure you for hours last night, promising that no, Soonyoung was not going to kidnap and murder you. He was a student at your university, actually, and he was a public health major who never had a murderous thought in his life.

soonyoung (driving instructor): i’m outside your house

Okay, if he wasn’t a murderer, then the least he could do was not text you like one.

After replying with an omw that autocorrected to On my way! and left you feeling very distressed that your communication sounded overly-enthusiastic, you worked up the courage to walk outside to his Honda Accord.

“Hi,” you greeted shyly when you opened the door. “You’re Soonyoung, right?”

Honestly, you didn’t care if he was Soonyoung or not. The man sitting in the driver’s seat was probably one of the most attractive people you had ever laid eyes on. Even if he wasn’t Kwon Soonyoung, you would happily let him kidnap you. Maybe you’d even blush a little because he picked you of all people to kidnap.

He turned to look at you, seeming a little surprised that you opened the door but smiling nevertheless. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re Y/N?”

When you nodded, he got out of the driver’s seat and motioned for you to take it. You skirted around the car to sit inside while Soonyoung took the passenger’s seat.

You also got a glance of his off-brand, beige Fear of God Essentials sweater that read M.I.L.F. Hunter instead. Classy.

“So, you came to me because you didn’t wanna give up your semester’s worth of college tuition for driving lessons,” Soonyoung said with an overwhelming air of confidence.

“Yeah, pretty much.” You huffed. “Here, I heard this was your payment.”

You handed him a paper bag, not bothering to take out the receipt from the dispensary. Inside was the King Louis XIII STIIZY pod. One gram.

“Ah, good. You know your stuff.”

Soonyoung hummed as he examined the box, and you were just wondering when he would get to business and start showing you the controls in his car. You were slightly overwhelmed by his impressively relaxed demeanor. Maybe it would have been better if you settled for an uptight woman in her sixties. Pretty boys were always trouble.

“You made the right choice coming to me. I’m a much better driver than those hags from the driving schools around here,” he continued. It was like he could read your mind; it was almost terrifying. “Plus, way less likely that I’ll get a heart attack in the passenger’s seat.”

He was a total weirdo, but he was hot, so you supposed it canceled out in some obscure, mathematical sense.

“That’s… good to hear, I think,” you replied. “So, are you, like, good at this?”

“Are you kidding? I’m basically the Lebron of driving.”

“I see.” You nodded along, unsure. “I don’t watch football, so…”

“He plays basketball, but close enough.”

After spending about thirty minutes explaining all of the controls—from hand signals, to the dashboard, to the indicator—Soonyoung decided it was time for you to start driving on your own. You didn’t expect to move this quickly; actually, you didn’t think you’d even start driving until your second lesson. Thankfully, you gathered most of what Soonyoung had taught you, so you mustered up the courage to press your foot on the brakes and move the gear shift into drive.

You looked over at Soonyoung expectantly, waiting for him to give you the green light to start driving. The boy only raised a brow at you, wondering why you hadn’t started driving yet.

“Today would be nice,” he remarked.

“Uh, should I start now?”

“Sorry, I don’t have a starting pistol for you or anything.” He made a finger gun with his hand and pretended to fire. “On your mark, get set—”

“Okay, going,” you replied quickly, flushing with embarrassment. You pressed down on the accelerator and gasped as the car lurched forward. “Sorry!”

“Slowly!” Soonyoung cried out, holding onto the ‘oh shit’ handle, which you found highly unnecessary and felt somewhat offended about. “Press down slowly—gentle.”

The next hour of your lessons was a learning curve, to say the least. In your defense, it was your very first time driving, so you didn’t know you were actually supposed to look behind you before you switched lanes. Although Soonyoung kept reminding you, his instructions kept slipping your mind because you were focusing on several things at once.

You sucked.

You were probably honked at around eight times and flipped off twice. It was a humbling experience, really. There was only so much a DMV victim could take, so you eventually had to pull over and try not to cry while Soonyoung consoled you.

“C’mon, you probably didn’t even do anything wrong. It’s just their road rage,” he said, trying to duck his head to get a better look at you while you had your hands covering your face. “Plus, all those assholes were driving way over the speed limit. You were the responsible one back there.”

You sniffled, sucking in a shuddering breath before you gathered your composure. It wasn’t like you to be so vulnerable in front of a stranger like this, but it was probably the nerves of your first time driving coupled with the nerves of driving (and potentially damaging) someone else’s car.

“You’re right.” You wiped at your damp cheek. “Fuck them. They couldn’t pass a driving test if they tried.”

“Well, technically, they already have.”

“Not helping.”

He smirked. “Are you good to keep driving? Or do you wanna wrap this session up for today?”

“Let’s keep going.” You set the car in drive again, but you looked over at Soonyoung before you did anything else. “Thanks, by the way. I’m guessing most of your students don’t usually pull over to cry during their lesson.”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t say it’s happened before, but it’s not a bad thing.”

It was a good thing that you were able to hide your blush from Soonyoung. With the clearly embarrassing impression you were making on him, it would have been mortifying if he found out that he was also making you flustered.

For the next thirty minutes, you slowly started to get more comfortable behind the wheel. Soonyoung was thankfully not overbearing as most instructors normally were, so you didn’t end up flinching every time he spoke.

He made light conversation to make you feel at ease, which you appreciated greatly. At first, you just nodded or hummed in response, as you were too afraid to do anything but stare at the road ahead, but you eventually steeled your nerves and replied with actual words. Soonyoung was a natural conversationalist, so you didn’t have to worry about your awkward pauses or stumbling over your words. He led the conversation, sharing random tidbits of his life that you wouldn’t expect to hear from someone the first time you met them.

Everything seemed to be going perfectly normal until Soonyoung started queuing songs to play.

The problem wasn’t the music. The problem was that Soonyoung had stopped teaching you to drive, allowing you to fend for your life while he sat back and relaxed. You weren’t sure if normal people were able to loosen up so easily while being driven by a complete amateur.

Soonyoung must’ve been from a different planet, you decided. Some planet out there that deemed him the Lebron of driving.

“Uh,” you started, “aren’t you gonna tell me where to go?”

Soonyoung opened his mouth, as if he was going to ask what you meant, but then his demeanor completely shifted.

“Pull over to the curb,” he instructed, “now.”

“What?” Your pulse raced, and you were scared that you had fucked up somehow. You checked your mirrors to make sure you hadn’t cut anyone off or anything, but there was no one behind you. Swallowing thickly, you pulled over to the curb as best as you could and parked the car, shooting your driving instructor a nervous glance. “Did I do something wr—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Soonyoung whispered, silencing you with a wave of his hand. “This is the best part.”

Your jaw clenched as Olivia Rodrigo’s vocals were drowned out by Soonyoung’s off-key singing. This was why he wanted you to pull over?

“I knew we weren’t perfect but I’ve never felt this way for no one!” he belted out. “C’mon, sing with me—oh, and I just can’t imagine how you could be so okay now that I’m gone!”

You folded your arms across your chest. With a reluctant sigh, you gave in and started singing along with Soonyoung.

You weren’t exactly ready for your driving test, but after two more lessons with Soonyoung, you felt more confident about being on the road. Sure, you almost ran over a pedestrian once and drove on the wrong side of the road the other day, but at least you were capable of handling a vehicle mostly by yourself.

There were times where you wondered if your driving lessons would be more productive with a proper instructor, not Soonyoung. He surely knew how to drive (save for when he went over the speed limit and only slowed down when he saw a cop car), but he was more focused on messing around instead of actually teaching you. You were pretty sure that he saved his proper instruction for high school students with parents, and you were just someone he liked to mess around with.

That didn’t stop you from scheduling another lesson with him, though. It was going to be another trip to the dispensary for you.

“How’re the driving lessons going?” Junhui asked, still nose-deep in his anatomy textbook.

The two of you were preparing for your upcoming midterms in a study room, but all you could think about was the little notification on your phone screen telling you that Soonyoung requested to follow you on Instagram. How long were you supposed to wait until you accepted his request? Would it be weird if you followed him back right away?

“I can’t parallel park, but I know all the lyrics to ‘Driver’s License’ by Olivia Rodrigo now,” you answered. “I’ve also been honked at thirteen times.”

You counted. Mostly because each honk kept you up at night, staring up at your popcorn ceiling, wondering why everyone (a driver who probably didn’t even remember your face) hated you.

“Ah,” Junhui mused, smiling a little to himself, “so it’s going well.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you mumbled. “But he’s nice. He doesn’t make me feel like crying. I think my dad would make me cry.”

Your phone buzzed while Junhui started going off on a tangent about how your dad was, indeed, a scary man. (There was an incident during parent’s weekend in freshman year where your father walked into your dorm room to see Junhui sitting on your bed. Completely misunderstanding the situation, your poor friend got lectured for almost an hour.) Soonyoung’s contact name flashed across your screen, and you were itching to read his text.

Once you and Junhui settled back into studying, you turned on your phone to check your messages.

soonyoung (driving instructor): i see you in the first floor study room soonyoung (driving instructor): come to the second floor study room for a good time

Terrifying. But you were intrigued.

After excusing yourself for a moment, making some lame excuse about needing to use the bathroom, you slipped out of your study room to head upstairs. You realized you had never actually seen Soonyoung on campus before, so a strange feeling of excitement consumed you, making your body feel light and your chest feel giddy.

Outside one of the study rooms, you heard echoes of laughter and conversation, which made you feel instantly nervous. You were invited, though, so you steeled your nerves and opened the door cautiously.

“Hi,” you greeted quietly, glancing over at the three strangers before your eyes landed on Soonyoung, who grinned once he saw you.

The four of them weren’t exactly studying. Two of them were fiddling with the flatscreen fixed to the wall, trying to connect a Nintendo Switch to it; one of them was sliding joy-cons into controllers; and Soonyoung, who had his legs kicked up on the table previously, was standing up to walk over to you.

“You came!” His tone made it seem like he was doubtful that you’d actually show up, so you were glad to prove him wrong. “Oh, yeah, this is Seungcheol and Mingyu”—he gestured toward the two who were setting up the TV, and then he pointed at the guy with the joy-cons—“and this is Seungkwan.”

“Hey,” the three of them chorused in broken unison.

“Wanna play Smash Bros with us?” Soonyoung asked. “Perchance.”

“You can’t just say ‘perchance,’ dude,” one of the guys setting up the TV said.

“I think it’s applicable, Mingyu,” the other guy said, whom you now deduced was Seungcheol. “Conceivably.”

“There’s no reason for either of you to use the words ‘perchance’ or ‘conceivably’ at all,” Seungkwan chimed in.

“Ignore them,” Soonyoung said, holding the door open wider for you before you even gave him an answer. “They’re just idiots.”

“You’re the biggest idiot here!” Seungcheol protested. He turned to you and explained, “He’s, like, the final boss idiot.”

Mingyu snickered. “Final idiot.”

You found yourself giggling a little, distracted by their banter as you walked inside the room and sat down in one of the empty chairs. Soonyoung slid into the one next to you, even though he was sitting next to Seungkwan earlier. You were glad that none of his friends made you feel like your presence was strange or unwelcome, but you still couldn’t help but feel awkward.

While Soonyoung was asking Seungcheol if he had finished connecting his Switch to the TV, you pulled out your phone to text Junhui.

y/n: i’m playing smash bros??? with soonyoung on the second floor y/n: wanna join?

jun: my anatomy midterm is in 3 days, 2 hours, and 26 minutes and all i know rn is that tissues are to wipe my tears after i fail this exam, negative feedback is all im getting back from my professor, and brain cells r what im deficient in

y/n: ok damn i’ll take that as a no

jun: i’ll be in here for the next 3 days whenever u decide to come back

y/n: it’ll take an hour tops y/n: pls don’t camp here for 3 whole days

“Jun’s not coming,” you announced.

You heard a chorus of groans.

Great. They were all Wen Junhui fanboys.

After Mingyu and Seungcheol finished setting up the Nintendo Switch, you watched Soonyoung and Seungkwan play the first match. Seungkwan chose Villager (which was sort of fitting for him, actually) and Soonyoung chose Donkey Kong. You honestly had no idea how Smash Bros worked, so you were completely lost while you watched their characters fly around and knock each other off the platform.

Soonyoung was screaming at one point, threatening Seungkwan with several promises to knock him out, which never happened. Seungkwan, taking a calmer approach, focused on using several commands while Soonyoung was already jumping out of his chair and on the floor. Mingyu and Seungcheol were on the sidelines, yelling out strategies for them at random and laughing occasionally.

The match ended with Seungkwan being victorious. Soonyoung had gotten so riled up during the game, but he took his defeat like a champ, congratulating his friend and laughing off his loss.

You were just amused at how quickly he switched up.

“You want a turn?” Soonyoung asked you, handing you his controller.

You hesitated. “Uh, I’m not really good at these kinds of games.”

“I’ll help you.”

You were up against Mingyu. He was a formidable opponent at first glance, but you hoped he wasn’t as competitive as the others. Maybe he would show you mercy because it was your first time playing.

You held the controller with stiffly-bent arms, holding it up like you were reading a map. Soonyoung didn’t laugh at you, to your relief, but he gently pushed your hands down and showed you what all of the controls were.

You chose the pink blob named Kirby. You weren’t a gamer by any means, so you had no idea what purpose the pink blob served other than being cute. No one judged you for your selection, though, which you assumed was a good sign.

“Don’t go easy on me,” you mumbled to Mingyu, who grinned in response.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

Your heart raced when the countdown started. It felt like the longest three seconds of your life, and you were starting to regret choosing Kirby, who looked harmless in comparison to Mingyu’s character: Samus. You kept telling yourself that it was okay if you lost; you knew how to handle failure since you were pretty bad at virtually everything.

Soonyoung was cheering for your victory as soon as the match started. He was an absolute angel for doing so, but you were afraid you were going to disappoint him.

In Mingyu’s defense, you did tell him not to go easy on you. Unfortunately, the guy really wasn’t holding back at all. In the blink of an eye, you were already astral projecting off the screen.

“Oh,” was all you could say.

Maybe you should have swallowed down your pride and asked Mingyu to go easy on you.

Seungcheol playfully punched his friend’s shoulder. “C’mon, dude, it’s her first time.”

“Yeah, why’re you being a dick?” Seungkwan joined in, seeming more excited over having an excuse to target Mingyu than to actually defend you.

“She told me not to go easy on her!” he exclaimed, but no one allowed the poor boy to stand up for himself. With a pout, he turned to you and said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.” You laughed. “I’m just bad at this.”

“Here, I’ll help you for the next round.” Soonyoung scooted closer to you until his knee brushed against yours. You couldn’t help but feel a little hot all of a sudden, but you made no effort to move away.

The next round started with you dropping from the revival platform. You felt like your brain went into autopilot. You just heard Soonyoung talking in your ear while his fingers kept brushing against yours, telling you which controls were best for fighting Samus. Everything was going in one ear and out the other; you were so flustered that you could hardly think straight.

You snapped back into reality when you heard three of them screaming, and you looked over with wide eyes to see Mingyu looking shell-shocked himself.

You won.

Soonyoung smiled. “See? You’re a natural.”

“No, it was all you,” you replied, shaking your head. It really was all thanks to Soonyoung because you had no idea what the hell you did. “It was probably just beginner’s luck.”

But, even so, a smile tugged at your lips, and you felt elated from your triumph. You thought back to Soonyoung’s hands brushing against yours, nearly swamping yours in comparison, and your chest felt a little warm.

A little too warm.

You put a pause on driving for a week and a half, informing Soonyoung that you had to focus on midterms before you could think about your driving lessons. Both caused you extreme distress, so you needed to cut one out temporarily.

Junhui really did camp out in the library for three entire days. You brought him food every day and forced him to go back to his apartment to take a shower. When you watched over his study room for him, Soonyoung would swing by and ask how you were doing.

Brief interactions, but they were nice.

You managed to get through your midterms without a single cry session in a bathroom stall. It was honestly a bigger success than your first Smash Bros win.

Soonyoung and you grew a little closer. Two weeks ago, if someone told you that you would be FaceTiming your driving instructor every night before bed, you wouldn’t believe them for a second. Mostly because you assumed you would get a driving instructor who was pushing retirement age, and video calling someone that old at night sounded a little concerning and borderline adulterous.

You learned a lot about him. His go-to breakfast or midnight snack was Frosted Flakes, and he felt a little empty inside if there wasn’t a box of the cereal in his cabinet. He was loud most of the time, but he often got shy or quiet in loud settings; it was highly dependent on the crowd he was with. His love language was sending you pictures of cute animals and saying it was you two. (You also didn’t like calling this a “love language” because that implied there was something deeper than platonic feelings, which you were too afraid to come to terms with.)

“You have to start driving again now that your midterms are over,” Soonyoung said over the phone one night. He was sulking while you were doing your skincare routine, keeping your phone propped up on your desk. “You’re gonna start forgetting what you learned, and then we’re gonna be back to square one.”

He was (slightly) high tonight and you were the first person he called.

You were pretty sure that had to mean something. Unfortunately, you were too guarded to connect the pieces that were laid out perfectly for you.

“You just miss me, huh?” you joked.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

Nothing could have prepared you for that response.

You felt your cheeks burn, and you had to physically turn around to hide whatever expression was betraying you. You pretended to examine something behind you, but there was clearly nothing there, so you just looked like an idiot.

You didn’t know what you were feeling. There was a clear difference in your emotions when you spoke to Soonyoung versus when you spoke to his friends.

You didn’t want to compare Soonyoung to Junhui, who you knew since middle school, but you knew that you didn’t feel anything funny in your chest when you interacted with Seungcheol, Seungkwan, or Mingyu. They were great to be around, of course, but it was only Soonyoung who made you walk with a little skip in your step.

You hadn’t had a proper crush in years. Now, you felt like you were overthinking everything and analyzing every little interaction that could possibly be meaningless.

It had only been a few weeks, but you supposed there was no exact timeline for these sorts of things—whatever this thing was.

Whatever it was, though, you were in danger.

“Tomorrow, then,” you said once you regained a sliver of your composure. “Pick me up after your classes.”

“Sure.” He rested his chin in his palm, staring at you with an amused expression. “I’ll bring flowers.”

Possible Ways To Respond: 1. “You’re too sweet! Thank you.” 2. “Flowers? What’s the occasion?” 3. “Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special, huh?”

You went with a secret fourth option.

“Please don’t. I’m allergic.”

True to his word, Soonyoung picked you up after his classes the next day.

You were pretty sure your lessons had gone over the regular quota, so you stopped by at the dispensary earlier to pick up another pod for Soonyoung. He didn’t look as though he was expecting anything when you got in the driver’s seat, though. In fact, he was perplexed when you handed him the paper bag.

“What’s this?” he asked, growing sheepish.

“Your payment,” you replied. “Also, I sort of lied about being allergic to flowers. I’m not allergic to flowers. I don’t know why I said that. I’m allergic to penicillin, though, but I don’t think that sounds remotely close to ‘flowers.’ Maybe I got confused? I don’t know.”

If this was an otome game, you had surely picked the bad relationship ending. Soonyoung’s face fell a little—just enough for you to notice—and you immediately felt guilt swallowing you whole. You meant for your words to sound lighthearted, but maybe they didn’t come across that way.

But, at the same time, you didn’t know where you stood. Wouldn’t it have been unfair to not repay Soonyoung for the lessons? Was it unreasonable that you weren’t actually expecting him to bring you flowers for no reason?

Soonyoung recovered quickly, though, his smiling eyes crinkling at the corners. “So I can bring you flowers.”

“Hypothetically, you could.”

“But you don’t have to pay me anymore.” He looked into the paper bag, examining the STIIZY pod before scoffing. “If I keep stocking up on these, people are gonna think I’m a stoner.”

“Well, I have to pay you for the lessons somehow,” you said. “So, if you don’t want the pods anymore, then I’ll have to start sending you money. I mean, what about gas?”

“You don’t have to worry about my gas tank.” He chuckled at your words and sat back to get comfortable. “What you should worry about is not hitting the curb.”

You flushed hotly. “Right.”

The first hour went smoothly. Soonyoung was impressed that you were gradually getting more and more comfortable behind the wheel, and he even congratulated you for changing lanes without muttering prayers under your breath. You were beginning to feel less overwhelmed with everything you were supposed to focus on, and you were certain that you were so close to everything clicking at once.

That was, until a car crashed right into you on a local road.

Thankfully, you and the other driver weren’t going too fast, but the force was sure to leave a dent in Soonyoung’s car. The collision wasn’t hard, by any means, but the impact jerked your body forward so that your mouth hit the steering wheel. The sting of pain radiated throughout your gums seconds later, and you winced and cradled your jaw.

You immediately bubbled with rage as you pulled over to the curb, knowing that you had the right of way and he was supposed to stop and wait for you to pass, but you were still stiff with shock. Soonyoung’s eyes were fierce, looking back at the driver as if he was about to cuss him out, but then he turned his attention to you.

Before you could feel immense, crushing guilt over crashing Soonyoung’s car, you whipped your head around to make sure he wasn’t hurt. You wouldn’t be surprised if he completely ghosted you after this. You were probably the worst student he had ever come across, which was saying a lot considering most of his students were high school teenagers.

“Y/N, are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked, sounding as frantic as his hands were. You felt his palm against your cheek and his other hand atop your head, making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere.

“Are you okay?” you blurted out. Your breathing was erratic, and you hardly registered the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. “Oh god. Your car. Oh god, I—”

“It’s okay, Y/N, it’s not your fault,” he said. “You had the right of—”

When he turned to look at you again, he just stared, eyes wide and jaw hanging open—almost comically. It almost looked like he was more bewildered by you than the fact that his car was rammed into by another car.

He was wordless for far too long that you had to ask, “Everything okay?”

Maybe that was a stupid question. Clearly, everything wasn’t okay, and it had everything to do with the fact that you two had gotten into a car crash.

“I think you loth a tooth,” he lisped—a seemingly joking remark, but his expression was dead serious.

For a split second, a laugh bubbled up in your mouth. You thought Soonyoung must have been messing with you, but it was ridiculous that he could joke around in such a situation. It was when you touched your lip and pulled your hand back to see blood, though, that cold reality washed over you.

Your eyes went wide as saucers as you turned to examine your teeth in the rear-view mirror.

The worst possible thing that could happen to a woman was happening to you right now.

Your front left tooth was gone.

“I-it’s not that bad,” Soonyoung tried, although he sounded unconvinced himself. “It’s cute! It’s like, uh, that dragon—from, uh… How to Train Your Dragon.”

Your eyes were burning and your throat was closing up, but tonguing the bloodied gap between your teeth sent you over the edge. You had tears streaming down your cheeks and you were gripping the wheel so hard that your knuckles turned pale.

“Toothleth?” you cried, which led to a few choked sobs when you realized that you had a lisp now. Then, you were full-on crying into your hands because sure, you could get over being the reason why Soonyoung’s car had a dent in it, but you were pretty sure there was no replacing a missing tooth. The more you cried, though, the worse you felt as you tasted the blood and heard the faint whistles coming from the gap in your teeth. “I’m tho thupid!”

Soonyoung was clearly short-circuiting, but you could tell he was desperate to calm you down by the way he was rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Y/N, you’re not stupid. It's okay, we just—”

“Thoonyoung!”

Soonyoung slapped his hand over his mouth to suppress his laughter. He was trying to take you seriously, but the little bursts of laughter that bubbled up in his throat were betraying him.

You swallowed down your sob and continued, “Ith not okay! I loth my tooth!”

“Okay, no more talking,” he ordered. “I know you’re very hurt right now, but you’re gonna feel even worse if I start laughing at your lisp, so don’t make this harder for me.”

You scowled at him, but you kept your mouth shut because Soonyoung was right; you were not in the proper headspace to be laughed at right now.

“Okay, I’m gonna go outside and talk to the driver who ran into us,” he explained slowly. “I want you to calm your breathing and find your missing tooth. We can drive to the dentist right after, okay?”

You sniffled and nodded, craning your neck to watch Soonyoung get out of the car to talk to the driver. Then, you sucked in a sharp breath and examined the floor to find your loose tooth. Lo and behold, it was laying next to the gas pedal. You cringed as you picked it up, frowning at how bloody it was in your palm. There were a few napkins in Soonyoung’s glove compartment, so you wrapped your tooth in one and kept it in your pocket.

You heard some yelling from the other driver—something about having kids in the back and how you were going way too fast—and it all just made you feel worse. You felt horrible that Soonyoung had to deal with the repercussions, and after they exchanged insurances and the guy drove off, you got out of the car to see the damage.

Surely enough, there was a decent-sized dent in the side of his car. It was right where the back door opened, and you burst into tears at the sight of it. Soonyoung wouldn’t have to deal with all of this if he wasn’t teaching you to drive.

Still, he wrapped his arms around your shaking body and pulled you in close. He rested his chin on top of your head and sighed.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “The insurance will cover the damage. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“What about my tooth?”

“Okay, maybe there’s one thing to worry about.”

You leaned into his touch when you felt his hand carding through your hair. His motions were slow and gentle, as if he was trying hard to make sure you didn’t notice the gesture. You did, though, and you appreciated it.

You started, “I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” he interrupted. You thought he was going to say something cheesy about how you had nothing to apologize for, but he continued, “You’re gonna say thorry, and I’m not gonna be able to take you seriously.”

With your face buried in his chest, you reached your hand out to punch his shoulder.

Still, despite his snarky comment and the emotional distress you were experiencing over your missing tooth, a big smile crossed your face and his embrace left a warm, fluttery feeling in your stomach.

Your heart was beating so fast that you almost thought it would stop.

“Ew,” was Wen Junhui’s first reaction upon seeing your swollen lip. You could only see the top half of his face over FaceTime, but you were sure he had a look of disgust on. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks,” you replied dryly, holding an ice pack to your cheek.

Before Soonyoung drove you to a dentist, he scolded you for leaving your tooth wrapped up in a tissue. Apparently, your tooth was going to be fucked if it dried up, so his solution was to leave it in his half-empty water bottle that was left sitting in his car. You weren’t quite sure about this, but the dentist informed you that Soonyoung saved your front tooth.

If he was with you in the room, you probably could’ve kissed him then and there—bloody mouth and all.

Thankfully, since you didn’t fracture or break any part of the tooth, the dentists were able to replant it into your gums without any complications. They told you it was a good thing you went straight to the dentist instead of waiting. Your front tooth would’ve been a lost cause if you waited another hour.

It was really all thanks to Soonyoung.

The procedure was quick and you were told that your avulsed tooth would be back to normal in about a week. The news filled you with relief because you were so sure you were going to be toothless for the rest of your life.

Not that it was a bad thing. While Soonyoung was driving you to the dentist prior to the replantation, you had come to terms with the fact that you would be missing a front tooth for the rest of your life. You would grow old and tell your children the harrowing tale of how you got your driver’s license and sacrificed your front tooth for it.

It couldn’t be all that horrible. Maybe you would grow an affinity for whistling.

Thankfully, that was all just your overthinking and your tooth was probably fine now. In seven days, everything was supposed to go back to normal, so you had your fingers crossed for a full recovery.

“Of course that would happen to you.” Junhui laughed at your misery. “Shit like this only happens to you.”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m the pinnacle of terrible luck.”

“So, what happened after? Did you make out with Soonyoung or something?”

“No!” you exclaimed. Your cheeks started to burn just at the thought. “How do you expect me to make out with someone when I look like this? Soonyoung drove me home like a gentleman. He’s not into me like that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing him for a while, anyway. I don’t wanna start driving again until my tooth is fine.”

“Then maybe you can go on a different kind of ride with him instead.”

“You need to stop.”

You didn’t see Soonyoung much over the next week. He told you that he had a few papers to finish before his schedule would clear up, so you were only able to text him occasionally and see him in passing, exchanging a greeting before one of you had to go.

You saw his friends a lot, though. They were always in the study room next to the one you and Junhui liked to use, so you would stop by their room often to see what they were up to. They were usually either messing around or using the whiteboard for everything but its intended purpose, so you enjoyed taking study breaks with them. Junhui was the type to not take breaks because he was locked in on his work once he got in the zone, so Soonyoung’s friends were a breath of fresh air.

Your Current Opinions on Soonyoung’s Friends:

Mingyu: Kind. Approached you whenever he saw you. Pleasant conversations. Swiped up on your Snapchat stories sometimes. Was unfortunately the only person you forgot to block from your story once when you posted a semi-thirst trap just for Soonyoung’s eyes.

Seungcheol: Friendly whenever he talked to you. A little awkward because you once saw him taking selfies at the gym instead of working out.

Seungkwan: Not super buddy-buddy but sweet enough. Liked making fun of Soonyoung with you. He brought you McDonald’s once and you imagined a future with him momentarily.

Word also got around that your front tooth had been knocked out clean. Seungcheol let it slip when he accidentally referred to you as ‘Toothless’ the other day. You made a mental note to kill Soonyoung later.

The next time you ran into your driving instructor on campus was outside one of your lecture halls. You walked out in the middle of class to fill up your hydroflask. It was especially hot today, and you were seconds away from heat exhaustion. Soonyoung’s brows lifted in pleasant surprise once he saw you, and he missed his elevator to walk up to you.

“Whoa.” You paused for a moment, unblinking. “I keep forgetting you go here.”

“I’m the hall monitor.”

“This is college. We don’t have hall monitors.”

“Self-elected,” was his response. “Speaking of, I don’t see your bathroom pass.”

“I’m not going to the bathroom. I’m filling up my water. Anyway, why would I—”

“Just this once, I’ll let you off with a warning,” he interjected, pulling out a card from the pocket of his jeans. He handed it to you, and you accepted it after a moment of hesitation. “There’s your bathroom pass. Don’t let me catch you loitering around here again.”

With that, Soonyoung walked off, leaving you utterly confused.

You flipped the business card around to see his name and number printed neatly in the middle, and you frowned in response. There was some other fine text on the back, but you didn’t take the time to read it properly as you were still baffled.

“I already have your number!” you called after him, but you just heard your driving instructor laugh to himself in response as he disappeared behind the elevator doors.

Later, after your classes ended, you went back to your study room with Junhui. He had been in the library since morning, deciding to skip his classes to prepare for his second round of midterms that he still had a few weeks for.

You told him about your encounter with Soonyoung, noting how strange it was that he casually had business cards on hand. Junhui asked to see the card, so you handed it over to him.

Upon closer inspection, Junhui raised his eyebrows, impressed. “Hall monitor rizz.”

“How was that rizz? He told me it was a bathroom pass and left.”

“Well, I’d consider it rizz since he’s asking you out on a date.”

Heat rose to your cheeks. “You think he’s asking me out on a date?”

“No, I know he’s asking you out on a date.” Junhui flipped Soonyoung’s business card around to show you the fine print: Schedule our first date with the number provided on the other side of this card. The corner of his mouth lifted. “Says it right here. He’s just shy, Y/N.”

“Shy? Him? He doesn’t look like the shy type.”

“He’s shy,” he affirmed, “around you, at least. I mean, you’d get shy around the person you liked, wouldn’t you?”

“I guess, but…” you trailed off, shaking your head. “No, this is normal, right? Dates are normal. We’re just two normal adults going on a normal date. Nothing weird about that, right? I shouldn’t feel so weird about this. Do I sound weird? Am I weird?”

You didn’t realize you had gotten up and started pacing until you turned to see Junhui looking at you with concern hanging in his brows. You sucked in a sharp breath and sank back into your seat, burying your face in your hands.

“I’m in way over my head,” you mumbled.

“You’re nervous ‘cause you have a crush on him,” he replied. “Nothing weird about that.”

“I have a crush on him,” you echoed, more so to yourself than to Junhui.

Although you were partly in denial, still tossing and turning the prospect of crushing on Soonyoung around in your head, Junhui took your words as confirmation. He hummed knowingly and turned back to his textbook, leaving you to ruminate for the next thirty minutes in silence before you excused yourself.

You were currently speed walking to your usual bus stop, hoping you would be able to stop thinking about Soonyoung and the business card tucked into your pocket. However, you couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of you developing a tiny crush on him.

You hadn’t had a proper crush in ages. The last time you had strong feelings for someone was in high school, which promptly ended following your first date—after an eight month talking stage. You proposed going to the fair, which seemed fine until you threw up on the ferris wheel and received an ‘I don’t think this is going to work out’ text later that night.

And why were you so flustered over this, anyway? After all, you had been anticipating the day Soonyoung would make the first move. Plus, you were an adult; overthinking your feelings like this was so high school.

Whatever. You had nothing to lose.

You pulled out your phone to text Soonyoung, a small smile crossing your face once you caught sight of his profile picture again. It was a picture of him with all his hair flying every which way in the wind and his mouth open to yell some profanity.

y/n: date. y/n: this week any day

soonyoung (driving instructor): WHOA!!!!!!

y/n: what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day

soonyoung (driving instructor): tomorrow night

y/n: okay

soonyoung (driving instructor): okay

y/n: okay.

soonyoung (driving instructor): okay. soonyoung (driving instructor): can’t wait

y/n: me neither

soonyoung (driving instructor): pick you up at 8

y/n: i’ll be ready

soonyoung (driving instructor): i’ll be even more ready

Your heart didn’t stop pounding for the rest of the day.

To be a woman was to perform.

You were currently performing an illegal U-turn.

Soonyoung held onto the ‘oh shit’ handle fixed to the ceiling, his face contorted in absolute fear as he repeated, “Wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane—”

“Sorry!” you exclaimed, swerving back into your correct lane after checking your mirrors. You swallowed thickly before saying, “I’ve got it under control now, I think.”

Of course, you had been nervous the entire day and a half leading up to your date with Soonyoung, but how you felt right now had completely reigned over every emotion you were feeling before.

Throughout the day, you had butterflies in your stomach and a little skip to your step, but now you were terrified of things you had never even worried about before. The reason you took a U-turn in the first place was because Soonyoung told you that you missed the parking lot entrance, causing you to panic in the middle of the road (which, on your part, was not very smart.)

In short, Soonyoung should not have let you take the wheel, and you should not have gotten this worked up over him planning to take you to the local fair.

What were the odds that you were back in the place where you had an awful last date? You could almost feel the bile rising up your throat.

Soonyoung’s voice was unnaturally high-pitched when he asked, “A-are you sure you’re ready to schedule that driving test?”

“Yes! I’m ready,” you said, “but, to make things clear, my driving today is not representative of my driving any other day.”

Somehow, you and Soonyoung wound up making it to the fairgrounds’ parking lot in one piece. You deflated upon hearing the sigh of relief escape Soonyoung’s lips once the car was in park, but it was well deserved. You were surprised he even let you drive in the first place.

The fairgrounds were packed with people—mostly students—so there were several couples going around with their fingers interlocked. You were now hyper-aware of your fingertips, wondering if you’d get the chance to brush them against Soonyoung’s and slowly slide your hand into his.

He ended up paying for your ticket, and you didn’t have much room to argue about it because the employee was already taking his card before you even noticed. You told Soonyoung you would pay for something else—food, rides, raffle tickets—but he ended up covering everything for you. Of course, you were sure Junhui would have scolded you because turning down a guy paying for you was apparently equivalent to turning down the guy himself. So, you swallowed your pride and let Soonyoung take the lead.

You went on a few rides with Soonyoung, shared a churro, and you took a picture in front of the ferris wheel. You were having a great time, actually, and almost all of your nerves had all but melted away. All that was left to deem this a perfect date was to actually ride the ferris wheel, which was exactly what you were absolutely terrified of.

“Not good with heights?” Soonyoung asked as you two were getting into the seat, pulling down the lap bar for you two.

You wondered if you looked as ghastly as you felt. “Not so much.”

You weren’t good with a lot of things, to be fair.

Smooth talker Soonyoung took that as his opportunity to slip his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together with a shy smile on his face. “You can close your eyes if it gets scary, or just keep looking at me.”

Honestly, that sounded scarier than the possibility of plummeting to your death from the top of the ferris wheel. You weren’t sure your heart could handle staring at Soonyoung, especially with how flustered his gaze made you feel.

“Hey, could I ask you something?” you asked, nearly shying away when Soonyoung fixed his gaze on you. “When did you start liking me? I mean, I had no idea.”

“Uh…” The ride started moving backward as Soonyoung hummed in thought. “Probably that first time you were in my car?”

Your eyes went wide. “You mean our very first lesson?”

“Yeah, I thought you were cute—a little weird, but cute.” He grinned. “I think it was when you fell asleep over FaceTime that one night when I started catching feelings.”

Your cheeks burned. You weren’t sure if you could pinpoint a specific moment like he did; you just remembered your heart started beating faster when you saw him one day, and the rest was history. It was almost incredible how blindsided you were by his feelings, even though he had integrated himself into your daily life so naturally.

“And then you posted that one picture on your story once,” he continued, voice growing shy once he realized what he admitted out loud, “and that was when I knew I was really in too deep.”

You blanched with embarrassment. He must have been talking about the thirst trap because that was the only time you ever posted yourself so confidently. How were you going to explain that you blocked everyone else from your Snapchat story just for him to see that?

A nervous laugh bubbled from your lips. “About that—”

Before you could get any other words out, though, you became painfully aware of your surroundings. Your seat started swinging with the strong winds, and you realized that you were at the very top. If you leaned over enough, you were pretty sure your seat would tip over and drop you and Soonyoung right out. The very thought paralyzed you to the core.

Just as Soonyoung was in the middle of asking if you were okay, the ferris wheel started moving faster, and you yelped and clung onto him as you two went down. You were fine with the slow pace with breaks in between, but now that you were moving at full speed in one go, it was downright terrifying.

Soonyoung seemed to find it hilarious, though. He laughed and wrapped an arm around you while you were the very picture of fear. You buried your face into his chest and dug your nails in so hard that you were afraid he would feel them through his sweater.

Finally, it came to a stop. The ride operator started letting people out one seat at a time, but you and Soonyoung had ended up at the very top again. You raised your head to sit upright again, letting out an exasperated breath, but Soonyoung drew you closer. He was still laughing, and it made you blush uncontrollably.

“Just so you know, I’m good with any other ride!” you tried to defend yourself. “Well, actually, save for roller coasters and drop towers… oh, and—”

“Y/N,” Soonyoung cut you off with a smile, his voice hardly a murmur. Before, you could barely hear him over the excited cries and shouts in the fair, but now your attention had zeroed in on him. You felt disoriented as he placed his warm hand on your cheek, tilting his head and leaning in. “C’mere.”

You were too shy to admit it, but you had fantasized about making out with Soonyoung before. Of course, you never knew what type of kisser he was, so you just settled for whatever fantasy played out in your head.

Now, though, with his lips pressed against yours, you felt something hot and needy stir up inside you as he tugged you impossibly close to his body. Your stomach fluttered when you let slip a whimper, which Soonyoung didn’t let go unnoticed. He pulled back for a moment, his gaze darkening, promising to return to that later, and he returned to kissing you.

When you were almost near the ground, you and Soonyoung pulled away. There were definitely far too many children and parents around for you two to be kissing like that, but now you were anticipating how things would be once you two were alone.

“You two have fun?” the ride operator, who appeared to be an older teenager, asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.

All you could do was nod and duck your head in embarrassment while Soonyoung beamed brighter than the flashing lights.

You spent some more time with Soonyoung on a few more (tamer) rides before you two decided to call it a day. Your feet were getting sore, so he courteously offered to drive the both of you home. However, you had an itching feeling that he just didn’t want you behind the wheel again.

“Wanna get something to eat?” he asked once you both were inside the car, and he turned his head around as he reversed. “There’s a good froyo place down the street.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” you agreed quickly. Deep down, you were hoping this date wouldn’t end just yet.

Soonyoung played Olivia Rodrigo’s new album as he drove, rolling the window down so that the wind tousled his hair. You thought he looked cute that way, and you had to keep your hand under your thigh to keep it from reaching over and running it through his locks.

When he parked in front of the froyo place, it appeared completely dark inside. It was also evidently clear that the only cars parked in the lot were the overflow crowd of people from the fair who couldn’t get a parking spot at the fairgrounds.

“Did we miss it?” He frowned, pausing to look up the store hours on his iPhone. “Man. I didn’t want our date to end like this.”

“I don’t want it to end, either.”

Soonyoung looked over at you, studying your expression carefully before asking, “Do you wanna chill in the back for a while, then?”

You knew what that meant. And you had specifically worn your matching lingerie set just for this moment.

You unlatched your seatbelt, and Soonyoung followed suit right after. “Yeah, I’m down.”

“Wait, there’s something I need to do first,” Soonyoung said in a soft voice, looking down at you with gentle eyes.

For a moment, your heart jumped to your throat. The way he was looking at you sent butterflies to your stomach, and you couldn’t even imagine what he was going to do next. Something about his tone was so sincere that you were sure he was going to kiss you, especially when he started leaning down.

You let your eyes flutter shut, waiting for his soft lips to meet yours. Your heartbeat felt like a drum in your ears.

But nothing happened. No kiss. Nothing.

You opened your eyes to see what Soonyoung was doing. When you saw him hunched over, fiddling with something near his ankles, your face deadpanned—not a flicker of amusement.

Soonyoung had put his Crocs in sports mode.

First of all, wearing Crocs on the first date was absurd.

Second of all, putting your Crocs in sports mode on the first date was absolutely preposterous.

Yet, it was the perfect thing Soonyoung had done to put your nerves completely at ease. You ended up bursting into laughter at the very sight, making his head shoot up while his eyebrows were drawn together, perplexed. However, he happened to hit his head on the steering wheel as he did so, which only made you laugh even harder.

Your sudden surge of confidence spurred you to crawl over the gear stick and straddle his lap. Shocked, Soonyoung gripped your thighs and straightened up. Before his lip could curl up in amusement, you wrapped your arms around his neck and slotted your lips with his.

He broke for air for a moment, breathing out, “Well, hi.”

“Hi.” Your nose gently bumped against his. “Having second thoughts?”

“No!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands up and down your sides. “I just didn’t wanna start anything because I wasn’t sure if you were ready.” He threw a glance over his shoulder before looking out the window. “Plus, this place isn’t exactly private.”

You looked out the window while Soonyoung’s warm hands returned to your thighs. It was true that there were empty cars around, but there weren’t any people in sight. It was still early in the night, so you were sure people would stay at the fairgrounds until midnight.

“Hey,” Soonyoung started again, “what was that you were gonna say on the ferris wheel? Before we, uh, made out.”

“Oh.” Shame bubbled in your chest when you realized what he was talking about. “Nothing important.”

“Tell me.”

Moonlight shone in from the window, illuminating the side of Soonyoung’s face and his neck, showing off his prominent collarbones. His low voice reached your core in a way you had never experienced before. You flushed with embarrassment because you were certain Soonyoung could feel how you clenched.

You looked out the window, as if you could mentally escape through it. Find a way to get out of the situation you were in.

“Fine.” He huffed lightly before placing a hand behind your neck and drawing you closer. “I’ll just get it out of you, then.”

Notably flustered, you gasped when Soonyoung’s lips latched onto the side of your neck, biting and sucking the tender skin. You croaked out some lame lie about forgetting what you were trying to say, but Soonyoung persisted. He ravaged the column of your neck like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

You scooted up on his lap, sitting right on top of his growing bulge, which roused a throaty groan from him. You could feel Soonyoung twitch under you, and it was all that was needed for you to start grinding your hips slowly on his lap. And then he started guiding your hips down onto him. Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers dig into the grooves of your hips to take control of your motions.

“Tell me,” he beseeched, and you shivered when you could feel his smile against your jawline.

You let out a whine. “It’s embarrassing.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, distracted as he looked up at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. His hands never left your hips as he watched you grind down on his lap. Soonyoung’s eyes were unfocused for a moment before clarity bled back into him. “It was about the Snapchat story, right? That one picture you posted.”

“I don’t remember what that was,” you attempted to lie smoothly, but you were pretty sure your expression betrayed you once Soonyoung slid a hand under your shirt to cup your chest.

“Yeah, you do. The one where you were wearing those thigh-high stockings.” You saw a flash of darkness in his eyes. “Can’t believe everyone got to see you like that.”

“I wouldn’t say everyone,” you muttered.

“Hm?”

His thumb, after his hand managed to creep under your bra, found purchase on your nipple, rolling and circling around the supple flesh as he pleased. You only managed to let out a cry before Soonyoung was pressing you further, ordering you to answer him before he made you fall apart.

You were so caught up in your own pleasure, practically chest-to-chest with Soonyoung, that you hardly noticed the knock on the window until Soonyoung jolted upright and straightened his back.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, voice still thick with lust that was ebbing away. Thankfully, you both were still mostly clothed, but Soonyoung had his pants nearly down and you had your shirt riding up past your waist.

The officer stopped knocking to give Soonyoung the opportunity to roll the window down after he was decent. It was evidently an uncomfortable situation for both parties. You turned your head to the side, screwing your eyes shut and hoping you would blink out of existence if you tried hard enough. You never thought you would have a cop at your window before even getting your license.

“Hi,” he greeted sheepishly once the window was down. “Sorry, we’ll get going now.”

“Yeah, uh…” The officer trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with a long-winded sigh. “I’ll let you off with a warning this time, but keep it in the bedroom, please.”

“Thanks…” Soonyoung trailed off, looking for some sort of identification tag.

“Officer Hong,” he answered flatly.

“Thanks, Officer Hong.”

“Don’t let me catch you two again.”

“Oh, probably not me, but once she gets her license then it’s over for—ow!” Soonyoung yelped when you pinched him in the side, effectively shutting him up. He immediately apologized, “Sorry, Officer Hong, it won’t happen again.”

The encounter with the police officer was awkward, yes, but somehow, Soonyoung was unfazed once you two had gotten off with the warning. He coolly looked up at you and asked if he could come over to your place tonight. You agreed, of course.

The drive home was perfectly fine. Soonyoung made sure you weren’t too startled by the officer and asked how you liked the fair. You thought it was all pleasant conversation that would continue once you were in your living room, but Soonyoung pinned you up against your front door as soon as you were inside.

His strong arms caged you in his hold, and you could only helplessly look up at him and warble out some pathetic question, asking if he wanted water or snacks. He turned the offer down, obviously.

Since you two had already gotten this far, you figured you might as well let Soonyoung in on your little secret. Although it was slightly humiliating to admit, you realized tonight that far more embarrassing things had happened to you.

“You really wanna know, don’t you?” When he nodded in response, you sighed and explained, “What I posted on my story… I blocked everyone else so that only you’d see it.”

Well, him and Mingyu, but the latter was purely accidental.

Hearing your words flipped a switch in Soonyoung and he completely froze up, as if he had stopped functioning altogether.

“Well, technically, you and Mingyu,” you rambled on, “but that’s only because I forgot to block him from my story. You know, I have, like, two hundred people on Snapchat, so I figured I’d accidentally skip over someone, anyway. But I don’t think he even paid any attention to it. I feel like he’d—”

He cut you off by sealing his lips over yours, and all the noise in your head simmered down. All the fluff filling up your brain billowed and sank back down. You remembered when you were a middle schooler, giggling and replaying the scenes in movies that were exactly like this. Now that you were actually living in it, though, you couldn’t get enough of Soonyoung.

He broke away for a breather, lips hanging barely an inch from yours and your foreheads touching. His heavily-lidded eyes found yours, gazing at you longingly through his lashes.

“No offense,” he started with a smirk, “but I don’t really care about Mingyu right now.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but you shut it as soon as you realized that you had nothing intelligent to contribute. You recognized that most of your mindless ramblings probably killed the mood—for you, at least.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then the side of your neck. As he moved down to your chest, Soonyoung’s kisses grew sloppier and open-mouthed. He tugged at your shirt, and you helped him remove it with ease, snapping your bra off in the process and letting it fall to the floor. His hungry gaze upon seeing you bare before him made you ache for more. Soonyoung let out a groan and let his tongue drag over your nipple, circling and flicking around the sensitive skin until you were moaning shamelessly.

With his head ducked so that his lips could ravage your chest, Soonyoung bent down just a little bit more to wrap his arms around your thighs. He scooped you up in his arms swiftly, making you yelp, and he walked you to your bedroom after you whispered where your room was. He was so strong that you hardly had to hold onto him, but his strength was a double-edged sword because he had you pinned down on your bed in seconds.

A grin crossed Soonyoung’s face as his lips returned to your chest. This time, his lips made their way down your body, to your stomach. You curled your hand in his hair, tugged hard because you wanted more, but Soonyoung was relentless with his teasing. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses that made you squirm under him and ache for more. They were slow and torturous, and you only grew more needy as he made his way down.

“Can I take these off?” he asked, fingers slipping into the waistband of your pants.

“Only if you take your clothes off, too.”

You heard him chuckle before you felt cold air starting to hit your bare skin. Soonyoung unzipped your pants and tugged them down your legs until they were bunched up at your ankles, which you struggled to kick off until he bent down to move the fabric off your heel. You shuddered when he snapped the band of your underwear, hooking his fingers at the sides and twisting the fabric. He sure was enjoying toying with you, and you weren’t sure you could handle any more teasing. After what felt like forever, Soonyoung pulled the last of your undergarments down and marveled at your bare body.

“You’re unbelievable,” he all but growled, running his hands down your sides, to your hips, and past your thighs. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

You sat up, looking up at him with a pout, which only seemed to drive Soonyoung to the brink of madness.

“You’re still clothed,” you observed.

“Yes.”

“Take it off.” You folded your arms across your chest. “I can’t be the only one naked.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” he replied with a laugh. You supposed he could see your expression falter, nearly letting some pathetic sound fall from your lips, so Soonyoung cooed at you and ran his thumb over your lower lip. “Oh, you like that? Like it when I call you princess?”

You did like it. You liked it too much for your own good, and it was almost humiliating.

Soonyoung towered over you as he peeled off his shirt, grabbing it from the nape of his neck and slipping it off in seconds. Your eyes ran over his beautiful expanse of skin, from every defined muscle in his abdomen to the little goosebumps that pricked his arms. You reached out to run your fingers down his abs, letting them trace each groove and dip in muscle. Soonyoung shivered at your very touch, but he allowed you to make your way down to undo his belt and pants.

Your fingers were fumbling, but you managed to remove the latch after several failed attempts. He guided you with his steadier hands, but you were determined to do it yourself. Finally, you pulled his belt free and pushed his pants down his legs.

He seemed to be slightly embarrassed, but Soonyoung was already rock hard. His cock sprang up so that the tip pushed past the waistband of his boxers.

“Don’t worry about that,” he grumbled, sinking to his knees and placing his hands on your thighs. “I’ll take care of you first.”

He grabbed your knees and pushed them apart, staring at your soaked cunt like it was everything he ever wanted. Soft kisses peppered the inside of your thighs, working up to the apex of your legs. You felt the cold air hit your core and shivered, but then it was hot all over again once Soonyoung licked one long, slow stripe that made you writhe and cry out in bliss. He had to press your hips down to keep you from moving too much.

But his movements were so slow and torturous. You were going insane by how much Soonyoung was teasing you with his kitten licks and lazy drags of tongue. Tears welled up in your eyes by the time you had been edged away from another impending orgasm, with him letting his dissolve as soon as the heat bloomed under your skin.

Kissing your cunt. Plunging his tongue into your core. Licking at your walls until they trembled and shook with the warning of release. You were agonized by how good Soonyoung was making you feel.

“Please,” you begged, your voice breathless as your body felt lightweight, “let me cum, please.”

“Hm.” He seemed to consider it for a moment before saying, “Tell me three things you like about me, and I’ll let you cum.”

You laughed, but it died on your tongue as soon as you realized there was no amusement on his face.

“You’re kidding, right?” You swallowed hard, knowing you had your answer already. “Oh, you’re not kidding.”

He was making you work for your orgasm. This was mortifying; you never expected Soonyoung to be so cruel, and you never expected it to be so hot.

“Three things, baby,” he said. “Start with number one.”

“One,” you started, your voice shaky as Soonyoung returned to snaking his tongue past your folds, “I like how you treat me so well and look after me, like—oh, right there—yeah, like that.”

“Two,” you continued, more so in a whimper because Soonyoung was skillfully using his tongue to reach places you never thought to stimulate before. “I, ah—I like the way you look at me and when you tell me I’m beautiful.” You sucked in your teeth when you felt him press his tongue flat against your clit. “Soonyoung, please.”

“One more,” he murmured.

“T-three,” you breathed out, and by this point, your legs were already shaking. Your brain was turning to mush and you couldn’t help but clench at Soonyoung lapping at your soaked cunt. The tremor in your voice was unmistakable when you admitted, “I love how you’re so much better at this than I ever could’ve imagined.”

He breathed out a laugh against your cunt. “Am I really?” He tightened his grip on your hips to suck on your clit, making your back arch and your chest feel light. “You think about me that often, princess?”

“Mmhm,” you confirmed with your eyes screwed shut. “Thought about you whenever I was—”

“Don’t finish that,” he warned, though it almost sounded like he was pleading with you, “or I’ll go crazy.”

Your nerves felt like they had tangled themselves into several knots that kept tightening in your stomach. You shuddered and moaned with each motion of Soonyoung’s tongue that brought you closer to your release. He was merciless with the way he dipped his tongue in your core, rubbing your clit with his thumb in slow circles.

Your walls tightened one last time before you were finally blinded by your white-hot orgasm, and you hardly even realized that hot tears were streaming down your cheeks. Soonyoung was eating you out unabated, not even giving you a break between each wave of pleasure that hit you. After your climax subsided and coherency gradually bled back into you, Soonyoung finally pulled back and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You grabbed his arm before he could say anything. Soonyoung looked you in the eyes for a moment, alarmed, but the worry knitting his brows together melted away once you pulled him down for a proper kiss.

With your arms wrapped around his neck and his knee between your legs, Soonyoung eventually found himself lowering his body until your chests were pressed together. He kept himself up by his elbows and pulled away to look at you. He brushed your hair out of your face and leaned in for another kiss.

As you two became a tangled mess of limbs, wrapped up in each other and far too occupied to care about anything but making out, you moved your hand down Soonyoung’s abs to wrap your hand around his cock. He groaned against your lips and rocked his hips against your touch.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with lust. After reaching back to tug his boxers down, freeing his cock from the restricting fabric, Soonyoung looked down at you with desire glazing over his eyes. “May I?”

“Please do,” you answered.

You cried out when he started rubbing the head of his cock against your cunt, teasing your folds like he did before. You were aching already despite your previous orgasm, and you thought you were going to die on the spot from how needy you were.

“Turn onto your stomach,” he ordered. You were confused for a moment, but you ended up being manhandled by Soonyoung, anyway. He flipped you over and positioned himself at your entrance, keeping one hand on the back of your neck. “Good girl.”

The side of your face was pressed into the sheets, and your hands were desperately reaching for anything that gave you proper leverage. You ended up grabbing onto the pillows just as Soonyoung started pushing his cock inside you. You swallowed down the gasp that dared threaten to escape, and Soonyoung pressed kisses to your face and made sure you weren’t crying from how big he was.

With more filth and praises whispered into your ear, you were clenching and unclenching around him, making Soonyoung groan whenever he felt you tighten. It took a while for him to ease his way into you, but once Soonyoung had finally nestled inside of you, it was as if a switch flipped in him.

He was thrusting as soon as you gave him the green light. You were blindsided by how intense he was, hardly having any control over your own body as you held onto the sheets for dear life. Soonyoung held your hips with a bruising grip as he fucked into you.

Hot.

Everything felt hot and sticky. Your sweat-matted hair clung to the back of your neck, and you felt like your sheets were uncomfortably damp. Despite it all, though, you couldn’t get enough. You needed more, wanted more. Soonyoung was relentless, even when your box springs creaked and the frame rattled against the wall.

You felt his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck. You’re taking me so well.”

Still overly-sensitive from your previous orgasm, it didn’t take long for you to reach your limit a second time. Soonyoung pounded into you with fervor, and even he was quickly falling apart.

“That’s it,” he got out, teeth gritted. “That’s my girl.”

You pulled him down for a deep kiss, muffling both of your moans once you were clenching uncontrollably around him. You were falling from your peak and Soonyoung fucked you through your orgasm, even though he was on the verge of one himself.

He pulled out right before he was about to cum, and you could only hear his groans before you realized he had gotten off, too. For a moment, you thought Soonyoung abandoned you on the bed. His voice sounded distant all of a sudden, and you were too tuckered out to move.

Then, he returned with a towel and several tissues for you. You turned onto your back again to make out his silhouette entering the room and taking a seat next to you. Your eyes were shut as Soonyoung cleaned you up, and you only opened them once he pushed your hair back and kissed your cheek.

“Wanna go again?” he asked with a grin. You were impressed by how quickly he was able to recover. You, on the other hand, needed a few minutes to recuperate. “The night’s still young.”

“Yeah, sure, if you use a condom this time,” you breathed out, turning over onto your side. “Just give me five.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting your chest rise and fall until its rhythm steadied. Your breathing was even again, but when you opened your eyes, you saw neon green glowing in the middle of the room.

“Soonyoung.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. You were not getting dicked down by manga censorship. “Why is your dick glowing?”

“I prefer glow-in-the-dark condoms.”

Typically, when two individuals had feelings for each other, it would often bloom into a relationship.

It was quite clear that you had feelings for Soonyoung and he had feelings for you, so, naturally, one would expect the two of you to start dating. However, it felt like you both were testing the waters around each other instead—dipping your toes into the dating pool. You two were exclusive, but not exactly together.

You were perfectly content with taking things slow, but that didn’t necessarily mean Soonyoung didn’t end up over you almost every other night. The sex was great, of course. Mind-blowing, even.

Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan seemed to catch on quickly. There was no mistaking what was going on after you went over to their apartment to play Catan, and then you and Soonyoung disappeared into his room afterward. The next morning, when you walked downstairs in Soonyoung’s shirt to eat breakfast with everyone, you could pick up on their unspoken realization that you were hooking up with their roommate.

Seungkwan even made an offhand comment about you and Soonyoung being a thing—whatever that was supposed to mean.

You debriefed Junhui on the entire situation, of course. He seemed less surprised about you sleeping with Soonyoung, though, and more interested in the outcome of your driving test (which, you had to admit, you were terribly worried about).

The night before your dreaded behind-the-wheel exam, you received a call from Soonyoung.

You weren’t sure what to expect when you picked up the call. You knew that he’d been planning on getting high with his housemates today, so you weren’t exactly sure if this phone call was going to be private or not. You were half-expecting Seungcheol to answer for him instead.

“Hey,” Soonyoung greeted, voice slightly muffled. With the way the audio sounded, you suspected that he wasn’t holding onto his phone at the moment.

“Are you busy?” you asked.

“No, just trying to get the pod you gave me out of its packaging.” You heard a few strained grunts from him before he exclaimed, “I got it!”

“I’m proud of you.”

“That’s what I’ll be telling you after you ace that driving test,” he said. He paused for a moment (which you guessed was him taking a hit). “You ready for it, by the way?”

“Not really.” You sucked in a sharp breath. “The good news is that taking years to pass the permit test has helped me memorize all the rules of the road; the bad news is that I have severe anxiety and probably won’t be able to utilize anything I’ve learned.”

“You’ll be fine, Y/N. You drove just fine with me, didn’t you?”

“But that’s you! How am I gonna drive properly with some scary old guy who probably hasn't ever smiled in his life?”

“Just relax. Remember to slow down on your turns and check your blind spots when you’re changing lanes.”

Your voice grew shy when you admitted, “This is gonna sound weird, but I kind of miss our driving lessons.”

“Even when you lost your tooth?”

You grimaced. “Even then.”

Soonyoung laughed along with you for a moment before he simmered. The silence on the other side of the line didn’t feel uncomfortable, but you felt like each nerve end of yours was on fire.

“I didn’t want it to end either, Y/N,” Soonyoung said after a while, his voice dropping an octave.

“Really?”

“I don’t wanna be in a world where we aren’t in a car together, whether I’m telling you to stop driving under the speed limit or we’re crashing into that Honda Civic that knocked your front tooth out,” he started, and you scratched the back of your head. Yeah, he was definitely high. “And, maybe… maybe the missing front tooth was really the catalyst for all the memories we made along the way. Maybe, in another universe, that tooth never fell out—or existed. Maybe the concept of that occurrence manifested into this universe as a—”

“Okay, it was cute at first,” you interrupted, “but you’re definitely in that other universe right now.”

You had never been this much of a nervous wreck.

Actually, scratch that. You were probably this much of a nervous wreck at least thrice a week. You functioned on being anxious several times a day, so this was honestly not a new feeling. The only problem was that you had never driven with anyone other than Soonyoung, so you were slightly on edge as you turned into the DMV.

“Please return my car in one piece,” Soonyoung said, holding onto the ‘oh shit’ handle as you went over a speed bump, which you found highly unnecessary. He pointed to the starting point for the driving test. “I’ll wait for you outside the building over there.”

“Sounds good.”

“And remember: if you’re gonna fail the test, make sure you fail it big time. Don’t fail it by going ten over the speed limit, or something boring like that.”

“That’s terrible advice, Soonyoung.”

“I’m playing. You’re gonna be just fine.”

“Thanks, I’m just so—oh my god!”

You stepped on the breaks immediately, gripping the wheel tight as the car lurched forward. The man who was crossing in front of you doubled over onto the hood of the car before standing upright again. You rolled your window down to yell an apology, but the man paid you no attention and kept walking with a scowl on his face.

“I almost killed him!” you cried, slapping a hand over your mouth.

“Well…” Soonyoung didn’t seem to know how to reassure you as he was still immobilized with fear himself. He managed a shaky grin. “On the bright side, he’s alive and you’re not facing a lawsuit.”

You swallowed hard. There was no way this exam was going to go well.

After handing in the necessary paperwork inside the DMV, they approved you to go outside for your driving test. Since Soonyoung was letting you use his car while he waited outside, he sat with you until your examiner came by. He did everything he could to calm you down, but, ultimately, it was up to you to pass.

While Soonyoung was giving his seat up for your examiner, you closed your eyes and tried to take deep breaths to mentally prepare.

“Ma’am, can you turn on your left turn signal?” the examiner asked from your window.

When you turned to look at him, you felt something inside you shrivel up and die.

The man you almost ran over was your examiner.

In your daze, you managed to follow his instructions as he asked you to point out various things, such as the windshield wipers, defroster, and foot brake. All the while you were already preparing yourself for failure because there was absolutely no way this man was going to let you pass after almost becoming your victim.

Once the pre-drive safety check was over, he circled around the car to sit in the passenger’s seat, looking down at his clipboard for a moment. You held your tongue, hands clasped together in your lap. Were you supposed to apologize? Would he even care about your apology? It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, right?

You started in a meek voice, “Oh, about what happened earlier, I’m so—”

“I’m Jeonghan, and I’m gonna be scoring your behind-the-wheel test today,” he cut you off with an air of indifference, looking back down at his clipboard. “Whenever you start the car is when the test begins.”

“Right—yes, okay.” You swallowed thickly and gripped the wheel, looking behind you to make sure no one was coming. Since there were a few cars driving by, you decided to wait for a moment. “A-are you having a good day?”

“I was.”

You wanted to crawl in a hole and drop dead.

After the road was clear, you turned out of the DMV and started driving down the road, checking your speed and mirrors every so often. You had always been comfortably driving with Soonyoung, who would just help you reroute if you missed a turn. Now, though, if you missed anything Jeonghan said, you were going to fail (and probably die).

“Take the right coming up here,” he instructed.

You remembered your turn signal and to look back over your shoulder. Soonyoung had taught you well, but you were afraid that his gentle instructions would only take you so far. Jeonghan was the most intimidating person you had come across (mostly because you almost killed him), and you should not have been trusted to drive someone you were terribly scared of.

After you made the turn, you sighed in relief at the long stretch of road ahead. You attempted to cover it up by clearing your throat and making small talk with Jeonghan.

“It’s pretty cold today, isn’t it?” you asked. Stupid question. You had no idea how cold it was. Soonyoung’s car felt like a sauna because you cranked up the heater, or maybe the heat was from how nervous you were.

Jeonghan promptly ignored you. “Change lanes and take the next left.”

Albeit your state of disarray, you followed what he said. You decided to give up on small talk altogether, coming to the conclusion that Jeonghan just hated you and didn’t want to converse with the person who almost murdered him in cold blood.

You were pretty confident that the rest of your driving test went horribly. You almost went ten under the speed limit to make sure you didn’t run over anyone else in the school zone, you shrieked when the railroad lights turned on and you had to wait for the train to pass by, and you looked both ways about five times when you were at a stop sign.

Jeonghan told you to park the car once you reached the DMV, so you pulled into an empty parking space. You were praying that he wasn’t still grading you because you were most definitely occupying two parking spaces right now.

“Okay, so,” he started, looking at his clipboard before turning to you with a deadpan stare, “you drive too slow.”

Oh. That was intentional because you didn’t want to deal with another hit and run, but you stayed quiet and nodded.

“And,” he continued, “you overthink too much when you’re behind the wheel. Don’t hesitate before you stop or make turns, or you’re just gonna run into trouble that way. You can’t be paranoid about driving, otherwise it’s gonna be hard for you to be on the road.”

You pressed your lips together in a tight line. This was it. He was going to fail you. There was no way you were going to pass when you were being criticized for your entire performance. You didn’t blame Jeonghan, though; you probably wouldn’t pass the person who almost ran you over, either.

“Well, you were cutting it really close,” he said, circling some parts of your examination sheet, “but you passed.”

Your eyes grew wide.

You passed.

You turned to Jeonghan and cried out, “I passed?!”

“You know your car, you know the rules of the road, and you did all your maneuvers just fine,” he continued. “You slowed down in the school zone to make sure you didn’t hit any kids, and you were careful about your turns and stops. Just remember not to be too careful, though, or you might run into someone.”

For the first time, you heard a small snicker of amusement come from him.

“I—I’m so sorry about that,” you blurted out. “I thought you were gonna fail me for hitting you with the car.”

“Like I said, the test begins when you start the car.” He handed you your papers and got out of your car. Before closing the door, he turned to you with his clipboard tucked under his arm. “You should go tell the DMV you passed and get your temporary license before I mark you down for this parking job.”

You gulped, unbuckling your seatbelt in a rush. “Will do.”

Jeonghan stalked off to grade another new driver, you supposed. When you got out of the car, your eyes immediately scanned the perimeter to search for Soonyoung, and there he was, waving you over from the sidewalk with a bright grin on his face.

Before you could even make your way over and break the news to him, he yelled out with his hands cupped around his mouth, “That’s my girl!”

You blushed, stopping in your tracks and staring at him for so long that it took a car honking at you to propel you back into motion. You scrambled over to Soonyoung, eyes wide as saucers and still frazzled from the emotional turmoil you went through with Jeonghan.

He wrapped an arm around you. “You know, no matter the result, I’m proud of you for trying. There’s always next time, you know?”

“Soonyoung—”

“Did everything else go well, though? Other than you almost killing him, obviously.”

“Soonyoung, I—”

“It was probably just bad luck, honestly. I mean, it was a recoverable bump, not even a full-on crash! You were going so slow that anyone could walk that off.”

“Soonyoung!” you yelled, thrusting your score sheet into his hands. “I passed!”

His eyes widened. “You passed?!”

“I passed!” you squealed. “I have to tell Junhui! I mean, he totally thought I was gonna fail my first two or six tries!”

Soonyoung crushed you into a hug, which would’ve been more endearing if your ribs weren’t being squeezed so hard. “Holy shit, Y/N, I’m so proud of you.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Be my girlfriend,” he spoke against your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin, and you immediately froze.

Kwon Soonyoung wanted to be your boyfriend. Even with everything that had happened—from the STIIZY pods, to the car crash, to the glow-in-the-dark condom—you still felt relief flooding your veins at the thought of Soonyoung liking you as much as you liked him. It almost felt like you were in a dream.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally remembered how to breathe.

You pulled back to look at him, and even though it was the middle of the day, it felt like all the stars were out to make Soonyoung shine brighter than usual.

“Be my girlfriend,” he repeated, softer this time, and his eyes were gentle as his hands reached for yours. Your lips immediately tugged down and your eyes were welling up with tears. “No, no, no, Y/N, don’t start crying at the DMV.”

You wiped at the corner of your eye. “I can’t help it. I always cry at the DMV.” He smiled down at you fondly, waiting for you to gather your composure. You mustered up the strength to lift your head and nod eagerly. “I accept.”

He was your boyfriend now. The word felt strange on your tongue, but it also filled you with inexplicable happiness. And when you saw how Soonyoung’s eyes crinkled at the corners, you thought you could definitely get used to this.

“You’re so cute.” He laughed, pulling you into his embrace once again. “How about we go get something to eat after you tell them your score?”

You grinned. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

While Soonyoung was waiting in the car for you (and probably readjusting your terrible parking job before he got yelled at), you walked into the DMV and stood in the same line you were in months ago for your permit test. You remembered the anxious feeling of possibly failing your written test a seventh time, but now you felt a huge weight being lifted off your shoulders.

“I did it,” you gushed to the woman at the counter, handing her your score sheet. “I passed.”

“Congratulations!” she chirped, examining the papers before turning to type something on her computer. She turned to grab your temporary license from the printer and handed it to you. “Here you go. Your real one should come in the mail in a few weeks.”

“Thank you so much,” you replied, inspecting your new license with bright eyes.

You failed your permit test six times, only passing on your seventh attempt. While other children were getting their licenses at the age of sixteen, you were still trying to pass the written test in your twenties. And, yes, you had severe driving anxiety, but you crossed that hurdle yourself and finally passed your driving test on your first try.

So, that glass ceiling? Consider it smashed.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so so much for reading if you've made it this far !! :') i've been wanting to write for hoshi for so long and this was just so fun <3 also BIG shoutout to everyone who asked to be on the tag list because although i couldn't respond to everyone (mostly because i figured i would end up tagging everyone twice 🧎‍♀️ ), i mega appreciate your interest ♡ hope everyone's having a wonderful day/night !!

TAG LIST ▸ @wonudazed @delicatewinterenthusiast @aaniag @primoppang @matchahyuck @xiaoting999 @alsktudy @fixonbreakoff @simqly-yunjin @kwonshiho @cottoncheol @nishloves @sarcasticsweetlara @ult-bee @vanishingboots @l2vedive @phenomenalgirl9 @notevenheretbh1 @hopetiger10 @junyangis @fyladymars @lilsafsafbooyah @kwanhaos @alltheshineofthestars-blog

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deekaye · 3 months

Text

hoshi; vowels and veracity (m)

summary: after a blind date that makes you feel like a giddy teenager all over again, you’re forced to grow up and take a chance when you realize that special someone is your daughter’s kindergarten teacher. pairing: teacher!soonyoung x single mother!reader genre/warnings: fluffity fluff nuggets, humor, a lil bit of angst when yn panics, *steve rogers voice* language! alcohol, unprotected sex (wrap the pickle before u tickle), face sitting w/c: 5.2k a/n: i really have nothing to say about this but i’ve been thinking about going back to school all week so this manifested. enjoy a lil sexy but sweet hosh💕

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deekaye · 3 months

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Hii!! minghao + "oh really?" / "yes, really." / "lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart." from the prompts enemies to lovers? :D

— rush hour ⟢

pairing: minghao x reader

summary: you used to be good friends with the newest dancer in your agency, but your competitiveness gets the better of you when he overtakes your spot as the top performer of the month—for three straight months.

word count: 6.7k words

tags: enemies to lovers, dancer au? unresolved sexual tension, smut

warnings: promiscuous behavior in public, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: this . got really REALLY long :D like long enough to have its own header and everything LOL it probably helps that hao has been clawing his way back into my bias line these days, so the brain rot kinda just spilled out,, anyway, thank you sm for sending this in!! i hope you like it :3c

smut tags: porn with some plot ig, public sex, vaginal fingering, exhibitionism, hao is kinky as fuck, dirty talk, degradation

svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @spk93 - @tommolex

minghao taglist: @zeenanigans - @renjunphile - @pluviophile-xxx

Saying that you hate Xu Minghao is a bit of an overstatement.

After all, you were the one assigned to show him the ropes when he was accepted into the agency. While you’re no professional mentor, you like to think he was able to rely on you during those first few weeks. He’s been in Seoul for a better part of two years, and although his Korean can already pass as a native’s, you knew he still struggled every now and again. It’s a good thing that verbal communication isn’t direly needed in your line of work.

Minghao was an excellent dancer—one of the best you’ve seen with your own eyes. You once took pride in having a budding prodigy like him as an understudy. Whatever steps or routines you’d ask him to try out and make his own, not only will he deliver, but he’ll blow your expectations out of the water while he’s at it, too.

It doesn’t help that he knows his own body well enough to channel each movement with passion that makes him look alluring to everyone who dares to watch any of his performances. Minghao isn’t vain or conceited or anything like that, but he’s completely aware of how attractive he is, and that’s a trait that’s further amplified by his dancing.

You suppose the funniest part about this senior-junior relationship you have with him is how he always asks for your input about his routines. Even if Minghao has long proved that he doesn’t even need a pseudo-mentor like you, he still takes the time to hear out whatever you have to say—eager eyes always shining every time you indulge him with an answer.

Another thing that inevitably brought the two of you closer is the fact that you both take the same train and get off at the same station. Your apartment is in a different neighborhood from his, but you find comfort in the newfound company you’ve been given since Minghao’s arrival. Though he doesn’t talk much outside discussions about work and other dance-related topics, having someone familiar to sit right next to you on the train is more than enough to quell the day’s fatigue.

Your other colleagues sometimes voice out their envious comments jokingly—saying that you’re extremely lucky to have such a hot guy as constant company. Almost always, you respond with a vigorous shake of your head before insisting that things between you and Minghao aren’t at all like that. Besides, you know better than to nurse a romantic relationship between your colleagues. You wouldn’t even let yourself have a crush on any of them.

What they don’t know, however, is that on very rare occasions when your body feels just a little too heated, and your sheets a few threads too thick, it’s Minghao that flits into your mind as your hesitant fingers reach between your thighs.

You touch yourself to the thought of him taking you in one of the dance studios. Specifically, in front of the full-stretch mirrors as he fucks you from behind. You imagine him whispering how good you are for him, how you’re taking his cock so, so well.

Subverting the mere image of the kind man who constantly seeks your validation for his performance has you creaming on your own fingers within minutes, and if you weren’t such a terrible person, you would’ve felt bad for thinking about him in such an obscene light.

Then again, what Minghao doesn’t know won’t kill him.

His first month in the agency comes and goes like the changing seasons. Next thing you know, it’s time for monthly evaluations again.

While others would usually dread these assessments, you looked forward to them. You know that they’re less a measure of talent, and more a measure of hard work. Sure, talent could be one of the main driving factors of getting a high score, but you know better than anyone else that talent is nothing if you don’t work hard enough to cultivate it.

That’s the kind of mindset that always landed you in the top of the rankings for every monthly evaluation.

And it’s the same mindset that puts you immediately beneath Minghao.

The agency is always prompt with the release of the results. They’d post the typewritten scores next to the dancers’ names in the bulletin board at the ground floor cafeteria for everyone to see two days after the monthly evaluation.

It was a bit of a challenge to squeeze past the other dancers to get a good look at this month’s results—the crowd being more chatty than usual. Your closer friends insisted that you’d be number one as usual, and that you didn’t have to check at all.

Part of you wants to believe them, but the unsettling feeling that pools in the pit of your stomach doesn’t let you become complacent. It doesn’t help that everyone around you seems like they’re sneaking glances your way—only to look away when you try to catch their gaze.

When you finally make it to the front of the board, you notice that Minghao is already there—already dressed to kill for today’s sets and routines. His black hair is still damp like he just got out of the shower and rushed straight to work, eyes glued to the bulletin board. You would’ve let your gaze linger a bit longer on his gorgeous face, had it not been for the surprise that awaits you on that single sheet of paper plastered right in front of you.

1. Xu Minghao — 100 points

Your vision tunnels in, white noise ringing in your ears.

You could vaguely make out the characters of your name just below Minghao’s, and just a few points from a perfect score. But you didn’t care about that. All you could focus on was the fact that you’ve been kicked out of a spot that’s been yours for as long as you can remember.

No wonder the others were buzzing amongst themselves, flashing you brief looks before whispering their thoughts on the matter to the nearest willing ear. Not a single soul has ever garnered a hundred fucking points from monthly evaluations. The evaluators cut no corners when it came to assessing their dancers’ level of skill and technique, and seeing how they deigned to give Minghao, a complete newbie, a perfect goddamned score—

“Congratulations, bro!”

“Minghao, you’re a fucking beast! How long did you even practice?”

“That’s so cool. No one’s ever gotten a perfect hundred before.”

“You’ve gotta tell us the secret, please!”

Like a bunch of bees, the collective of dancers start to crowd Minghao—giving him congratulatory gestures and greetings alike. Your understudy simply gazes at them as if in a daze, but ever-so slowly, a smile cracks through his typically stoic demeanor.

“Uh, thank you…?”

He’s whisked away to the cafeteria before you can blink, and you can only watch in shocked desolation as they all usher themselves away from the board.

Away from you.

You don’t miss the way Minghao tries to catch your gaze in the midst of it all, the smile he showcased for everyone to see falling the moment he realized you’re still rooted in place. Yet he doesn’t try to break free from the crowd, nor does he attempt to call your name out loud.

Not that you have any plans on answering if he did.

It’s only after today’s session has concluded that Minghao manages to pull you to the side for a conversation. You’re already halfway out of the building when he catches you, and you can tell that the sheer euphoria of knowing you came out on top is still humming in his veins.

It pisses you off.

“Thank you,” he says simply.

“For what?” You try not to sound too gruff, but the pensiveness in your voice comes out anyway. “Letting you take my spot?”

Minghao’s grin dips into a grimace—mirroring his expression from earlier. “What? I meant to say thank you for showing me the ropes. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have—hey!”

You’re probably being immature. No, you’re definitely being immature. Instead of accepting Minghao’s gratitude like a normal fucking person, you continue brisk-walking to the building’s entrance without letting him finish. Of course, he chases after you, asking if he did anything wrong or if you’re simply in a bad mood or both.

You don’t answer him even when he continues pestering you on the way to the train station, and he doesn’t stop despite the lack of responses from your end. It’s beginning to get on your nerves, too, because he was never this goddamn pushy during all those times you went home together. What’s stopping him from being the quiet companion he’s always been?

“Can you just shut the fuck up, Hao?” you end up snapping at him when you finally get off at your shared station—earning yourself a bunch of questioning looks from nearby commuters. “You don’t have to fucking rub it in anymore than you have. I already know the results, okay?!”

“Rubbing what in?” he asks, exasperated. “I’m just asking you what’s wrong because you don’t normally act this way. Is it so bad for me to worry about my friend?”

“Friend?” you echo mirthlessly. “No fucking friend of mine takes away what belongs to me.”

This time, when you storm off, Minghao doesn’t follow you.

Fortunately, that all happened on a Friday. It takes you the entire weekend after that heated encounter at the train station to realize that maybe you went a little overboard with what you said to Minghao.

As you replay your conversation in your head, you’re filled with a crippling sense of embarrassment. The top spot for monthly evaluations belongs only to the best—you know this better than anyone else. The only reason that the evaluators deemed you as a second placer is because Minghao is that proficient in his dancing.

You’re one of the people who was able to watch him closest. You’ve seen the work he put into practice firsthand. You even called him a prodigy.

So why did you make a fool out of yourself by having a meltdown at the fact that you got beaten by someone who obviously worked harder than you did?

Hard work beats talent any day. But Minghao has both honed to perfection.

If you’re going to reclaim your rightful spot on the top, crying about it is the last thing you should do. You’re going to have to put in double the effort to call yourself worthy.

As expected, Minghao has started to distance himself from you after that spat. You don’t blame him. As much as you wanted to apologize for your behavior that night, you wouldn’t want to remain friends with a sore loser if you were in his shoes.

But as his second month in the agency breezes past, you notice that, not only has he distanced himself, but he’s become somewhat…hostile.

He treats everyone else the same way since he came in—stoically with a few words of affirmation here and there. You, though? It’s almost like he’s forgotten all about the time you were assigned to look after him. There’s always this cockiness lingering in his eyes that grates at your nerves more than you thought it would. He’d throw you haughty glances whenever he catches you flubbing some parts of the choreography from the corner of his eye.

The worst part is that Minghao is more vocal now compared to when he first came in—not seeing any problem with pointing out how you’re starting to slack off during practice.

“How are you expecting yourself to take back the crown when you’re already breathless after such a simple routine?” he gloats when he catches you lingering by the water fountain, lips curved into a smirk.

You glare at him while you take a sip from your water bottle. “Fuck you. I’ve been rehearsing all fucking day. Who wouldn’t be tired?”

“People who rank first in monthly evals,” he says boredly. “Oh, but you wouldn’t know about that, now would you? At least, not anymore.”

You’re so fucking close to tearing his face off with your own fingernails that you’re slightly grateful that Minghao gets called back onto the dancefloor to polish his group’s routine. Minghao’s constitution changes in a flash—that arrogant look he reserves for you alone making way for his usual aloof expression while he makes his way back.

He always looks cool and amicable to others, but when no one’s looking he makes sure you catch the patronizing tilt of his lips whenever he pulls off some high level choreography with zero mistakes. As if to remind you that you’re never going to take back what he stole from you. Not in a million years.

Okay. Maybe you do hate Xu Minghao.

You hate him a fucking lot.

…

Minghao proves that the results he reaped from his first month in the agency are no fluke.

For three consecutive months, you’re forced to stand in front of the cafeteria’s bulletin board with his name plastered on the very top. If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought that the evaluators were only editing the month indicated on top of the sheet with how stagnant the results always are.

The agency’s rising star consistently comes out on top with little to no effort, while you’re desperately clawing your way back to glory at second place.

You didn’t know what the fucking deal was. You worked your ass off twenty four-seven. Even if you weren’t in the studio, you made sure to study all sorts of routines and choreographies so your body would remember the movements deep into your bones.

But then you remember that even if hard work beats talent, you can never beat a man who has both at his disposal.

You’re at your wits’ end at this point—so close to giving up on the title you thought would always belong to you. Your evasive behavior did you no favors in maintaining a good reputation among your colleagues either. If you listened to their hushed conversations closely enough, you’d catch them saying how pathetic you’re being. Ostracizing yourself all because you’re insecure that your understudy became your adversary.

The only reason you hate what they’re saying about you behind your back is because all of it is true.

Your usual group of friends doesn’t sit with you at your usual table at the cafeteria anymore, but you don’t really mind that—learning this late into your career that silence can be more beneficial than it seems. But every time you see Minghao laughing at a joke told by one of your colleagues, you can’t help but feel that familiar bite of resentment you’ve come to associate with everything he does.

If only he didn’t overtake you during his first goddamn month here. If only he wasn’t the one assigned to be your understudy. Maybe the blow to your pride wouldn’t have been this bad. Maybe you wouldn’t be licking your wounds in your loneliness.

Maybe you wouldn’t have lost a friend you actually liked having around.

…

With an upcoming dance competition, it’s no surprise that the dancers at your agency often stay behind to polish their performances to perfection. Usually, practices would adjourn hours before the sun even sets, but these days, you find yourself exiting the building no earlier than nine PM.

The excessive practice time has been taking a toll on you—this much you know. Your muscles have been sore for days, and no amount of painkillers and Salonpas can easily cure your affliction right away. So for tonight, you decide to take it easy—packing up once the clock hits six o’clock. The last thing you want is to accidentally pull something you shouldn’t, thus rendering your participation in the competition null and void.

But as you walk towards the train station, you realize that perhaps staying later was a smarter move after all. All around you, commuters of all ages and walks of life brush past you in their haste—the need to arrive home as soon as possible like a cloud on everybody’s heads. The closer you got to the station, the more it dawned on you.

It’s fucking rush hour.

You’ve always avoided going home during this time for two reasons. The first is the influx of commuters that’s literally and figuratively too suffocating to deal with, especially when your physical constitution isn’t in the best shape.

The second is…because you noticed that, ever since your platonic breakup, Minghao has started leaving the studio at this hour. Later than your previous commutes home, but earlier than your new work-yourself-to-the-bone schedule. Sure, he’s still the biggest fucking prick to walk the earth whenever he feels like taunting you during practice, but he doesn’t seem interested in working overtime.

If you’re being completely honest, you’re over the monthly evaluation results. Honest! You’ve just come to accept that nothing is ever set in stone.

Things change all the time. Humans used to believe the earth was flat. The Athenians once thought of Plato’s bullshit as the gospel truth, and—

You dared to assume you’ll be on top of the world forever.

What happened months ago was a reality check, and slowly but surely, you’re relearning the difference between ambitious and obnoxious. It’s a humbling experience that you’re honestly grateful for happening because…if it weren’t for that harsh reminder that there’ll always be someone out there who’s better than you, then you wouldn’t strive to improve at all.

You let out a quaint sigh when you settle into the train. As expected, tonight’s commuters have filled it out to complete capacity, and you wouldn’t have caught the last available space near the doors if you hadn't sprinted like a madman. Though your aching muscles practically scream in complaint, you comfort yourself with the promise of a long soak in your bathtub the moment you get home.

The smooth tone of the announcer’s voice rings from the overhead speakers, telling all passengers to step away from the doors, as the train is about to leave. Not that any of you can help it. You’re all packed like sardines in what’s usually a pretty spacious train car if you came in just an hour earlier or later.

All of a sudden, you find yourself missing those days where you’d sit on the side where you could see the sunset breezing past the windows—listening to the stories of someone you can’t even hold a civilized conversation with anymore. But before that train of thought can progress any further, you shake your head as if the mere gesture alone can dispel your longing.

You try to press yourself back to avoid getting crushed by the automatic doors, muttering a quiet apology to the person behind you since you ended up subsequently squeezing him further into the crowd of cramped passengers. When the doors finally close, you hear him say a quick it’s okay, back at you, you’re forced to whip around in the limited space with your mouth agape.

Right behind you is Xu Minghao, looking just as distressed as you are.

He’s changed out of his usual practice clothes—having exchanged it for an oversized crewneck and sweats. His expensive headphones hang unused around his neck, and you wonder if you wouldn’t have noticed each other if only he was blasting music directly into his ears…

The urge to take back your courteous apology is strong, but you would much rather not give him any more of your energy than you already have. You’d take all his insults and badmouthing head-on in the studio, but it’s been a really long day, and you don’t have enough fire going to extend his hostility inside a crowded train in the middle of rush hour.

“Why’re you out so early?”

You can feel gooseflesh prickle the skin of your shoulders when you feel Minghao’s breath next to your ear. A glare settles between your eyes as you jolt away from him in the limited space that affords you to do so.

“Watch it, asshole. You’re way too close for comfort,” you hiss. “And the time I go home is none of your business.”

Minghao shrugs. “I dunno, you always stay late to practice. Is it so bad to be curious?”

“Yeah, because if it hasn’t occurred to you yet, I actually hate your guts, and I don’t appreciate you talking to me like we’re friends.”

He falls silent for a moment, and in the next moment the train lurches into motion—nearly catching you off balance. You’re quick to brace a hand against the door, but you startle again when you feel a large hand around your arm, touching you in a way that’s meant to steady. You spare Minghao another glance, but there’s less vitriol laced in your gaze and more confusion.

“Are we…” he whispers, gaze shied away from yours as he maintains a steady grip on your arm. Then, he gulps. “Are we not friends anymore?”

Again, you scowl.

Is he being real with you right now?

“Dude, I am completely over the monthly evaluations if you think that’s the reason I’m being the way I am with you,” you hiss. “I was going to apologize after I said all that hurtful stuff in the past. But then you went ahead and started writing your very own villain arc. So, ask yourself: were you even my friend at all, Hao?”

The sound of that nickname making its way past your lips is familiar yet foreign at the same time. During these past few months, you’ve never once called Minghao anything else but asshole, dick, jerk, self-centered punk, and other variations of those words. You don’t want to admit it, but calling him by something that’s close to an endearment makes you feel like there’s cotton sticking to the roof of your mouth.

Minghao doesn’t respond yet again, and you force yourself to face forward—leaning your head against the glass of the door so you wouldn’t have to look back at him anymore. You’re pretty sure the salaryman right next to you has been eavesdropping on your conversation this entire time, but it’s not like he has any other choice given the circumstances.

You let the constant whir of the train engine lull you into a calmer disposition, heartbeat finally equalizing after everything you just shot at Minghao. That’s probably the most you’ve said to him all month, and to say that you’re not the least bit embarrassed about how you admitted wanting to apologize for a past transgression is a blatant lie.

But what’s done is done. You’re just going to have to accept the fact that the man you once thought of as a good friend; the same man who’s now the main antagonist of your life and career, is standing behind you in your rush hour commute. Just twenty minutes more, and he’ll be out of your hair soon.

Much to your delight, Minghao keeps his mouth shut until the train pulls over at the next station. The doors open with a mechanical ding, accompanied by the announcer's voice yet again. You’ve heard the monologue thousands of times, but you don’t quite hear it over the throng of passengers rushing to get off the train.

You make way for them by scooting towards the back of the car, and Minghao does the same. But instead of shuffling away from you the moment there’s more room to move around like you thought he would, he lingers closely to your form.

However, the amount of people that got off on this station is quickly replenished by a new horde of passengers—quickly filling in the space you thought would last for at least a few more stations. Once again, you find yourself slowly being squeezed closer to the corner of the car, but for some reason, Minghao wedges himself between you and the unassuming college boy whose wireless earphones are plugged in as he scrolls through his phone.

When you realize what he’s trying to do, you say, “You don’t have to protect me or anything. I’m fine on my own.”

Minghao rolls his eyes. “You obviously didn’t see how you looked like you’re about to get crushed. Just thank me and we’re good.”

A biting retort is already resting on your tongue with how passive-aggressive that response of his sounds like. What the hell is his problem? It’s not like you asked for him to shield you from the other passengers.

And yet…

“Thanks, I guess.”

You watch him visibly stiffen at your words, and you feel your heart slamming into your ribcage the moment you utter them. Did you really just thank the same man who’s been making your life at work a living hell for months?

The train starts to pick up speed again before you can answer that yourself.

You practically glare at the corner you’ve been forced into the entire trip to the next station. Minghao is right behind you, but you can’t be assed to worry about that when you’re chewing your lip out of frustration. Part of you feels relieved that you swallowed your pride and thanked him, but the part that’s been receiving the brunt of his antagonism for the past half year hisses in disagreement.

He’s an asshole. He’s a self-centered prick that uses people as stepping stones. He’s—

“...Sorry.”

You refuse to turn around. You refuse to believe that he’s actually—

“I’m sorry for being a jerk to you,” Minghao murmurs, and you feel his fingers graze your shoulder as if to emphasize the words with the sincerity of his touch. “I just… I didn’t know how to act when you lashed out at me back then. Y-You were my only friend, and I thought you’d be proud that I achieved something after working so hard for an entire month.”

You’re at a loss for words, completely stunned by the honesty in his voice. You’ve only known Minghao for a short while—been on good terms with him for even shorter—but you can always tell whenever he’s lying.

This is not one of those times.

“A…friend of mine told me that I tend to act based on how I’m treated,” he continues. “I know that doesn’t excuse how I’ve been acting around you for so long, but… I guess when I got the hint that you hated me, the only way I could cope with that is to hate you right back. Even if I really didn’t.”

No. This isn't real. You’re dreaming. This is probably a side-effect from all those late hours you’ve spent in the studio—

You let out a soft squeak when you feel him rest his forehead against the back of your head, sighing so deeply, it makes you wonder how long he’s been thinking about apologizing properly. Minghao grips your arms again, not to help maintain your balance, but more to anchor himself onto his own.

“I don’t care if everyone else in the studio looks at me like I’m some sort of god on the dancefloor,” he admits, voice so quiet, you could barely hear him. “The only person I’d want to look at me is you.”

Your breath hitches, and you’re sure he hears it.

“Can we please go back to normal again?” Minghao pleads. “I miss hearing your comments about my dances. I miss going home together.

“I miss you.”

The sincerity in his voice singes through you like a red-hot iron poker. You don’t know what to say, what to feel. All you can focus on is the stuttering breaths Minghao takes from behind you.

If you’ve ever imagined reconciling with him, this certainly isn’t the most optimal venue. But now that he’s bared his defenses, you don’t see any benefit to keeping up your own.

“I’m…sorry and I missed you, too,” you admit somewhat sheepishly, thanking the higher deities up there that he can’t see the way your blood rushes to your cheeks. “But I don’t really know how to—”

Your sentence is cut off mid-way when the train abruptly runs into a bump on the tracks, forcing Minghao’s body against yours when he momentarily loses his footing. It’s an accident, and you wouldn’t have minded since some turbulence in this part of the city isn't rare at all. But that split second where Minghao got thrown against you from the impact made you all too cognizant of how thin the material of both your skirt and his sweatpants are.

“Sorry, sorry,” Minghao sighs before bracing an arm towards one of the walls to your left. The rustle of his clothes gives rise to the scent of his cologne wafting to your nostrils—a fresh, not-too-musky aroma that makes your head spin despite.

Just your luck, the train pitches to the side and you feel Minghao’s groin brush against your ass once again. This time, you’re not strong enough to hold down the soft whimper that tumbles out of your lips, and you don’t even feel ashamed about it.

Suddenly, you remember a time from back then where you’d spend your nights getting off to the same man who’s unknowingly sparking your arousal in the unlikeliest of places. You’ve once fucked yourself to the thought of him, so what’s the use with getting embarrassed now? As long as he doesn’t know, you should be fine.

Except Minghao isn’t deaf, and he definitely picked up on that suggestive little noise you just made.

Experimentally, he lets one of his hands dip lower and lower until his fingertips brush the hem of your skirt. That sinfully short skirt that keeps riding up your thighs every time you do a rather bold move during practice. His eyes are completely trained on you even if you’re still facing the corner, and when he feels you shiver, all the blood in his system rushes down south.

“You’re into this?” Minghao chuckles, bracing his hands on your hips before sliding his growing arousal against the ridge of your ass. “My… I didn’t think mending our friendship again would go this swimmingly. How about I take you out to dinner first?”

“Hao!” you chastise him with a poisonous look, but from the way you subtly rock your hips in time with his movements, Minghao can tell that dinner is the last thing on your mind right now.

He chuckles softly, keeping one hand steady on your hip while the other dips beneath your skirt again. When his fingers immediately press down against the gusset of your underwear, Minghao has to bite down a groan because of the wet patch that’s already accumulated at the center.

“Not only did you ditch your shorts, but you’re already this wet? From a little grinding?” he hisses into your ear. “Needy fucking slut.”

You can’t help the way your pussy clenches at the harsh name he just called you. It’s all so strange. You never once reacted this way whenever he called you a bitch or anything similar, but you suppose when you’ve made amends with a friend you’ve secretly been wanting to fuck since you first laid your eyes on him, there’s no use keeping up any charades.

“Your hatred was all just an act, isn’t it?” he laughs, nudging your underwear to the side so he can get a feel of just how wet you areas you spread your legs to accommodate him. “Do you rile me up on purpose because you can’t deal with the fact that you actually want me?”

"You're delusional," you bite back.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

Another low laugh rumbles in his chest and you swear you don't get wetter with each hum of it as he presses closer to your ear. "Lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart."

You’re about to answer him when the announcer’s voice rings from the speakers yet again, saying that the next station is approximately five minutes away. This promptly rips you out of your lustful haze as you realize you’re very much still in public, where dozens upon dozens of passengers still share the same car with the both of you. Minghao seems to pick up on your split-second realization, but doesn’t seem fazed by the idea of getting caught doing this in the presence of strangers.

“Lots of passengers are going to get off at the next station, but not a lot are going to get on like the last one,” he whispers before plunging two of his fingers into your sopping cunt without warning.

You have to physically cover your mouth with your hand to keep yourself from gasping out loud. When you turn to look at Minghao again, eyes ablaze with disbelief, he simply flashes you an evil smile.

“If you want to come on my fingers, do it in five minutes, whore.”

The sensation of his long, slender digits curling inside you forces you to brace yourself against your tiny little corner of that train car. Your skin prickles everywhere as Minghao grinds his half-hard cock against your backside, all while he works between your pussy lips as if he’s thought about it dozens of times before.

His digits dip in and out of your entrance like he doesn’t know what he wants to do first. Poke and prod at every inch of sensitive flesh there is or fuck you until you’re a moaning mess for everyone to see. Either way, you’re panting all while Minghao maps the expanse of your pussy with his touch alone, and every time those sinful fingers brush against your clit, you jolt in response.

“Shh,” he coos. “Don’t be too obvious, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want the entire train knowing how much of an impatient fucking slut you are—whoring all over my fingers ‘cause you can’t wait to get off the train.”

You involuntarily clench at his filthy words, begrudgingly unearthing a kink you didn’t even know you had. But at the mere mention of the other passengers, you let your eyes frantically pass over those nearby. You don’t know if they’re really preoccupied on their phones or pretending not to notice the act of indecency that’s happening right beneath their noses. The college boy that almost crushed you earlier is still banging his head to whatever song is playing on his phone, and you take that as a sign to let yourself go.

“Now that won’t do,” Minghao tuts before sliding his fingers back inside you, nudging your thighs even further apart before curling his digits just so. “How can you come in five minutes if you’re so distracted?”

“F-Fuck,” you whine as quietly as you can. “Hao, f-feels so good.”

“Yeah?” he laughs softly and your vision goes black for a moment when you feel his thumb graze your clit with just the right pressure. Just how dextrous can he be? “Then focus on my fingers, sweetheart. If you can’t come before the train arrives at the next station, maybe I’ll just go back to hating you tomorrow after all.”

You nearly choke on a moan when he starts to rub your sensitive nub in varying pressures and speeds, nearly robbing you of your ability to speak. “You’re a f-fucking asshole, you know that?”

“You’re a fucking bitch, but see where that got you now?”

It’s almost like you’re hard-wired to rebut everything he says, and you have all those months of shared antagonism to thank for it. But when Minghao crooks his fingers at a slightly different angle, your already sore legs nearly give out when his fingers hit you deep enough to make stars dance in the seams of your vision.

“Oh?” He sounds so smug, you actually want to hit him. “There it is.”

You can hardly believe it. You can barely find your own g-spot even on good days if you don’t put your back into using your toys right, yet Minghao got it in less than five minutes, inside a train full of passengers, no less?

Your brain has all but fizzled out when the pads of his fingers start to massage that sweet, sweet spot inside of you again—milking your body for all those lovely reactions you’re so willing to give to him. Minghao’s cock is an ever-present weight against your ass, but this isn’t about him. It’s about you, and how badly he wants to feel you come apart on his fingers right here, right now.

“You liked being fingered on the train, sweetheart?” Minghao rasps into your ear, relentless in his movements as tears start to line your lashes. “Like it when you supposedly hate the man that’s doing this to you? That’s made you this fucking wet?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You’d let him stick his dick into you right now if he wanted, but you know that Minghao isn’t going to risk that just yet. So instead, you focus on the sensation of those skillful fingers—the same ones you’ve dreamt about a long time ago—coaxing out a high you never thought you’d achieve outside the four corners of your bedroom.

You can think about his stroke game later. Those powerful thighs as he thrusts into you. Not to mention how euphoric it would feel to come around his cock, milking him for that white-hot release until it dribbles down your thighs and he inevitably fucks it all back into you—

The stimulation of Minghao’s dexterous digits coupled with the thrill of being caught are the main players for today’s debauchery, but it’s that particular fantasy that pushes you over the edge.

One moment, you feel like you’re on top of the world again, and the next you can taste blood in your mouth with how hard you bite against your lip to muffle your moans. A gush of slick coats Minghao’s fingers as he helps you ride out of your orgasm, peppering the side of your face with butterfly kisses.

“Pretty little whore, coming in record time,” he chuckles.

You can barely just start taming your breathing when Minghao takes his fingers out of your panties—tugging your skirt down back to semi-decency before prodding those same fingers against your lips. Still dazed from the high he just let you experience, you open your mouth, lathering your tongue against each digit as the tangy taste of you fills your tastebuds.

“Good fucking girl.”

The train eases into the next station, and just as Minghao predicted, the car frees up just enough for you to get comfortably seated by the windows again. He sits right next to you the whole time—hand never straying from yours as he holds it firmly in his. For some reason, that gesture of his flusters you more than the stunt he just pulled five minutes ago.

When you both get off the vehicle, the awkwardness begins to settle in your system. You don’t know what you’re supposed to say to him after all of...that. Is there even a protocol to follow after getting finger-fucked on public transportation?

“Hey.”

You startle when Minghao breathes out while the two of you make your way out of the station. It’s the first time he’s broken the silence since arriving, and your heart pounds in anticipation of what he’s about to say next.

“I really am sorry for all the shit I said to you these past few months,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his head like he’s just as clueless about what to do as you are.

You blink up at him. “Um, yeah. You already told me, Hao.”

“I just figured it was worth repeating.”

“Giving me a mindblowing orgasm is a good enough apology on its own, you know.”

He stops walking for a moment, and you look back at him with brows raised.

“Really now?” he asks, and—there’s that smirk again. That no good smirk. “I don’t think I’ve received a ‘good enough apology’ from you yet, sweetheart.”

One glance at his sweats, and sure enough, the evidence of his own raging arousal is still up for grabs. You feel your pussy tingle at the mere thought of what’s to come once you voice out your agreement, even if your overworked muscles are begging for a break.

Oh, well. Might as well stock up on more painkillers on the way.

⟢ end notes: i really really REALLY went overboard on this one and there isn't even any piv sex in action holy fucking shit LMFAO TT to lovely user yourfavoritefreakyhan, i hope i didn't scare you off with the word count JSHFD I REALLY JUST GOT CARRIED AWAY AHAHS hao has been testing me for DAYS and it manifested in this . anyway, pls don't expect every request from my ask game to turn out this fucking long bc this rly was just a heat of the moment creation AJSDHSJHF

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