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saythenametotheworld · 28 days

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Message in a Bottle [1]

Genre: strangers to lovers; fluff; slow burn Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Reader Warnings: mature themes, sloooow burn, suggestive Notes: 19.7k words, song prompt was Message in a Bottle by Taylor Swift. Synopsis: Seungcheol likes his coffee dark and iced; you like yours creamy smooth and searing hot. Your differences, mutual interests, and love for coffee bring you close together. It was all fun and games until you fell madly in love with a Choi Seungcheol whose heart still belonged to someone else.

It was crowded when you went for your usual coffee run at the cafe across the street from your university. The rain was pouring hard and for you, the unexpected downpour was today's bad luck because you didn't have an umbrella with you. Fortunately, your jacket kept you warm and some nice schoolmate shared her umbrella with you on your way to the cafe. The ambiance is nice, like always and you're thinking about staying until the rain passes, maybe catching up on the book you were reading. But judging by the number of people present in the cafe right then, you figured you wouldn't have a chance to even open a book. Initially, you assumed most of these people were taking a quick shelter because of the rain, but when you noticed the large number of girls with their giggles and chatters, you figured out what was going on. Today is Saturday, the day when the cute part-timer will be here. Of course, you should have expected the place to be full with zero vacancies.

Right then, you spotted a corner table where a guy sat quietly by himself, a book covering his face as he read. You grimaced at the way he was holding the book at eye level with one hand. To you, that's the most uncomfortable way to read, especially with a hardcover book. But hey, each to his own, right? You shouldn't judge people just because their ways aren't what you're used to. Especially right now when you're in dire need of a seat and he has a table for two by himself.

"Hi, excuse me? Are you alone? Do you mind if I sit here?" you pleaded, your tray heavy in your hand and not because of its actual weight but because you were being really careful not to spill the mug of hot coffee. The guy didn't even look up from his book when he dragged his glass slightly towards him, a gesture telling you he was making space for you on the table. "Oh, thanks, you're a lifesaver!"

You set your tray down and placed your orders on the table before a service crew came over to take the tray. As you settled down, you fished the Kindle from your bag, glancing at his book to see what he was reading. "The Republic by Plato? Are you a student here?"

He peered at you over the book, lowering it slightly to reveal a set of big, round, dark brown eyes and arched eyebrows. You grinned sheepishly, now realizing that your attempt at small talk was a bad idea. First, he probably wanted some peace and quiet, too immersed in his book and didn't want to be disturbed; second, you're not even fond of making casual conversations with strangers in the first place.

"Oh, sorry. I had to read the same book last semester for class so I just assumed you're a student here too," you explained.

"You're a senior?" he asked, lowering the book on the table for a moment. You were able to take a good look at his face which bears somewhat exotic but good-looking features. He had a prominent nose, and pouty lips that caused his jaw to clench when they were pursed. "That's a requirement for senior Political Sciences students."

"Yeah! Yes, I am," you smiled, nodding as you stirred your steaming coffee so you had an excuse not to look him in the eyes. He seemed older than you, you could tell by the way he was sitting and his manner of speaking. Also because of the way he's not dressed like guys your age. "How about you?"

That was your low-key attempt at asking his age.

"I graduated a few years ago," he shrugged before taking his iced coffee and sipping from the glass straw.

"Ah, I see, you're an oppa," you noted, nodding again as you blew on your cup. You stopped in your tracks, realizing belatedly the implication of your reply. You looked up at him and sure enough, he had a confused smile on his lips. You briskly sat up and shook your head and hands at him. "No, no, I mean, like you're older than me. That's all. I'm not trying to flirt or anything."

He just nodded with his eyebrows, smiling wider with his lips together before returning to his book. "What's your name?"

You fumbled with the thoughts in your head, suddenly forgetting your own name upon being asked what it was. After clearing your throat to silence your crazed brain, you told him your name and threw in that you're a senior Linguistics student.

"Linguistics have Plato?" he asked, referring to the subject you mentioned a while ago.

"No, but I took an elective."

"Hmmh, you seem to have plenty of time," he replied, eyes still glued on his book. "Seungcheol."

"Huh?"

His eyes fluttered to you. "My name. It's Choi Seungcheol."

"Oh, I wasn't ask— I mean, yeah, nice to meet you, Seungcheol-nim."

Seungcheol flattened his lips together in a smile before shifting his gaze back to the book. You smiled back, although his eyes had already left you. After that brief exchange, you both plunged into your own worlds, reading books in two different mediums, immersing yourselves in two different types of literature, and drinking coffee at two different temperatures. The little nook you shared was quiet, even with the chattering around the cafe and the consistent giggling when the handsome part-timer would smile at a random someone among the customers. You were so immersed in your own little world that you lost track of time, only realizing how long you've been sitting there when you touched your cup and it has gone cold. Seungcheol's spot in front of you is empty. The rain has stopped too, leaving a mist behind that fogged the glass.

"Okay. I will stop here because I have self-control and John Green will still be here when I come back to it," you whispered to yourself, like a mantra to keep yourself from using up all of your time doing something you consider to be unproductive.

As you tucked away your reading tablet, you spotted a piece of untouched donut on the table and a note with it that said: It was nice to meet you, Y/N. - SC

"You ate it? You ate it?!" Seolhee, your roommate, hollered at you when you told her about meeting Seungcheol and the donut he left for you. "You ate a donut from a stranger?"

"Technically, he's no longer a stranger. I already knew him when he gave me that."

"Yeah, for three hours!"

You sighed, lying on the couch. "You're missing the point."

"No, you're missing the point. You ate food left to you by a stranger. What if he was some creepy old guy who's slipping chemicals on women's food and then abducts them?"

"Okay. You do have a point," you told her, sitting back up again. "But first, he's not creepy old, maybe like three or four years older. Second, it was at The Coffeehouse. What kind of psycho kidnapper would abduct women in broad daylight and in a crowded cafe? And third, he just didn't strike me as a bad guy. I mean, he seemed completely normal, educated even. And you know I have a good eye for people."

"Yes, you have. But you can't entrust your safety to intuition alone. For all we know, it could be a ploy. Get you to warm up to him before he abducts you and leaves you in a ditch, naked and lifeless."

You shook your head. Criminal Psychology had Seolhee thinking the worst things about people, but you don't blame her because she obviously had a point and you were admittedly being naive when you did what you did. Still, you stood by your initial impression of Choi Seungcheol; he's a decent guy.

"So, is he handsome?" Yoori asked, just as she had finished doing her makeup in front of the mirror.

"Yoori!" Seolhee chided but your other roommate just shrugged.

"What? If you're wrong, and he really was a decent guy, then we have to know if he was good-looking enough for our girl."

"Why does that matter?" Seolhee questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Because he might have a crush on her. He left y/n a donut and a note. That's something a guy won't do unless he has a reason to."

"He's old."

"No, he's just a little older," Yoori corrected, jumping over to your side of the couch. "So, how much older is he? You know, older guys are way more attractive. They're mature and open-minded. Sometimes they can be a little intense too, but that's the best thing about them."

"Intense?" you asked and she scooted closer to whisper in your ear.

"Oh, you know..." In a lower but clearly audible voice, she said, "Intense and experienced."

"Okay. You're done," Seolhee announced, tapping your shoulder repeatedly. "Get up and go to bed. You have class."

But Yoori grabbed your head and locked it in a hug. "Hey, don't baby my y/n. She's old enough for that conversation! She even brought a guy here before!"

You slipped away from her grasp and ran to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you as you heard them bicker. It's one thing to live with roommates, but it's another when said roommates are two people with different personalities who are dating steadily. Seolhee and Yoori are such people. You liked living with them but ever since you moved in, they started treating you like their very own daughter even when you're literally the same age. You gotta admit though, it feels good to be taken care of.

Your coffee runs went on as usual; just dropping by to grab a cup and then leaving. Sitting around a cafe isn't really something you habitually do, especially when you're alone. Even though you were curious about Seungcheol, you never thought about sharing a table with him again or turning your spontaneous acquaintance into an actual friendly relationship. Admittedly though, each time you went to the cafe, you found yourself looking around to see if he was there but so far you haven't seen him again since that one rainy Saturday. You assumed he wasn't a regular but it could also be the timing of your visits. Either way, he only ever crossed your mind when you're at the cafe. Then two weeks in, it got to a point where your eyes automatically scanned the cafe in search of him and when you realized that you had subconsciously associated him with the cafe, you felt like a foolish teenager with a massive crush on someone.

"I gotta stop doing that," you chided yourself after you walked inside the cafe and did your routine quick scan of the place.

"Doing what?" Yoori asked, both her and Seolhee casting curious gazes at you.

You shook your head and nervously replied with the first excuse you came up with, "Talking to myself."

You looked for a vacant table while your roommates ordered the food. As you did, you spotted the corner table you shared with Seungcheol and found him sitting there by himself, reading a book. Seeing him there made your heart race, an unfamiliar kind of nervousness creeping into your chest. Seungcheol looked unfamiliar too, as if it was the first time you'd laid eyes on him. But then again, you never really got the chance to get to know him properly, let alone take the time to familiarize what he looks like.

"Who's that?" you heard Seolhee ask and only then did you realize you were staring at Seungcheol.

"No one," you said briskly, sounding defensive. You folded when Seolhee gave you a skeptical gaze. "I mean, someone. That's the guy I told you about. Choi Seungcheol."

"Choi Seungcheol?" Seolhee grimaced but Yoori gasped. "That name rings a bell."

"Seungcheol? The donut guy?" asked Yoori to whom you responded with a nod. "Well, isn't he a looker?"

"He is, but stop looking. You guys are embarrassing," you scolded quietly, tugging Yoori's hand to sit her down. You talked about random stuff for a while, eating your second breakfast between conversations. Yoori, however, can't seem to get over seeing Seungcheol for the first time.

"You should go say hi to him or something," she chimed when she caught you staring in his direction for the nth time. You chuckled incredulously, acting like you just heard a ridiculous suggestion.

"Why should I?" you questioned, hiding your nervousness behind your mug as you sipped from it.

"You can't stop looking over there. You might as well just approach him."

You didn't, of course. But you saw him stand up and get ready to leave. Just as he was passing by your table, he gave you a smile and an acknowledging nod that you returned politely. It was a fleeting exchange, almost unnoticed but you knew your friends saw that. As soon as he was far enough, Seolhee tapped your arm.

"I know that guy. Choi Seungcheol, was it? He's friends with the professor I am currently working for as a TA," she announced.

"He is?" you questioned, glancing briefly at Seungcheol who's now standing by the doorway, chatting a coffeeshop staff. "Does he teach?"

Seolhee crossed her arms over her chest, thinking. "I don't think so. From what I know, he's probably a lawyer or something. He graduated law school here three years ago and he's older than us by... five years, I think?"

"How do you know all that?" asked Yoori.

"I told you, he's friends with the prof. He comes by sometimes and they chat. Sometimes I hear them talking so I pick up things. They seem close too. They're probably related."

You just shrugged, intrigued to know a little about him but you're also less curious now that you know he's not only older but old enough to have a decent job and have his life figured out. Now that you've thought about it, you realize he's an intellectual. He went to law school, reads Plato to pass the time, and even has a professor for a friend. You can claim yourself to be an academic but not to that extent. Choi Seungcheol is in a different league and your tiny little crush on him faded after finding out how much gap the two of you have, both in age and way of life. You don't even want to begin imagining the possibility that he's wealthy too.

Studying is hard, but for someone who's got nothing else going on with her life, you've grown to love school and studying. College life gave you enough to live a fun life; classes, friends, and hobbies, even dreams and aspirations. It has its advantages but it also has its drawbacks that you dislike so much, like deadlines and homework. As you sat on a tall stool by the long window table at The Coffeehouse, you glared at the words on your computer, muttering curses under your breath. It was late in the evening when you arrived with heavy feet, having no choice but to do your homework here because your roommates had a little party going on in your shared apartment. You had a written task you forgot about and only remembered when a friend from the same class mentioned it to you earlier that evening. Now you have to pull an all-nighter to finish a ten-page in-depth analysis of a famous speech. Is it possible to finish in one night what would have taken at least two days to complete? You blew the hair out of your face again, squinting at the words while a part of the speech played on a loop through your earphones. You could swear you've memorized every word uttered by this person, even the timing of the pauses and the occasional clearing of his throat. If this goes on, you'd go nuts. Time check, 12:45 midnight.

"Okay! Four pages: done, six more to go," you blurted, stretching your arms to start typing again. Downing more of your hot coffee, you focused on the sounds from your earphones. Oblivious to your surroundings, you have cut yourself off from the world, eyes not leaving your screen while you type everything that comes to mind. And when you finally wrote the last line for your paper, you raised your hands in the air to celebrate. Even boasting to yourself when you see the time. "2:15? See, finished it in five hours, no sweat."

You pulled the earphones out of your ears, breathing a sigh of relief as you reached for your cup. Only then did you notice several empty cups sitting next to the warm one you just touched. A strange thing to see because you don't remember ordering this many. Come to think of it, you never ordered a refill but your coffee stayed warm and full the whole time you were working.

"You did great," said the man sitting one chair away. You recognized Seungcheol, eyes fixed on his book while leaning on the backrest of the stool.

"Seungcheol-nim..." you trailed off, wondering if you were right to think he had been reordering your coffee while you were working on your assignment. "Have you been here the whole time?"

His eyes fluttered over to the empty cups and to you, then back to his book. "I was here before you."

"No way, have you been refilling my cup?" you questioned when you noticed that he was drinking iced coffee.

He flipped a page and exhaled. "You look like you could use a few more cups while working," he replied.

You felt your cheeks flare, making you stare into your computer screen then shut your eyes to calm down. If there's one thing you're shy to admit, it's the fact that your heart is fragile for even the smallest acts of service. Imagine this much thoughtfulness from someone you just met? And someone really attractive at that? You'd be head over heels in no time! That can't happen!

"Why though?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "You were too passionate with what you're doing. I was touched."

You weren't sure if he was joking but that made you laugh. "Well, thanks? I guess? I appreciate it."

He gave you a brief glance and nodded. "Anytime."

You looked around the cafe, taking notice of the students with their laptops and sleepy eyes fixated on their screens. It was quiet but you could almost hear the chaos in your fellow students' heads as they worked and studied. Other customers were just lounging, but most of the people there were college students.

"Wow, this place looks miserable," you sighed, returning to your own laptop to save your work. "I guess it's true what they said about this cafe."

"What do they say?" asked Seungcheol, closing his book and crossing his arms over his chest. He looked warm in his brown coat, and you were reminded of the age gap again when you compared his coat to your cartoon sweater. Does he not even dress casually when he lounges at a cafe late at night?

"They say this place becomes a graveyard after midnight," you replied, chuckling. "I mean, every student looks close to dying. Including me."

Seungcheol smiled. "Back in my day, this was a pork belly barbecue restaurant."

"It was?" you questioned, genuinely amazed. But then a snort came out of your mouth. "Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. It's just that you sounded so old when you said, 'Back in my day'."

Seungcheol chuckled this time. "To be fair, it has been a while and this place looks nothing like it did before. Here, let me show you."

He fished his phone from his coat's pocket and toggled on his screen for a moment before leaning closer to show you a photo. It was of him with some other people and he looked younger in it. You assumed it was when he was still in college and took notice of the place around him. It was a bit shabby, with smoke around, writing on the walls, and barbecue tables all around. It looks nothing like the posh and clean interior of the cafe now.

"This was six years ago while I was in undergrad school. Different, isn't it?"

You nodded in agreement, genuinely impressed by his revelation. "It is. Hard to believe this was the same building." You looked around the cafe. "What happened to that restaurant?"

"The owner passed away a few years back," he replied. "The building was renovated shortly after."

"Well, damn. That got sad pretty fast." You flattened your lips together. "You looked cute when you were a student though."

Your last comment made Seungcheol chuckle. "Thanks?" he replied, sounding unconvinced.

"Right, by the way, if you don't mind me asking," you began, moving to occupy the seat between the two of you. "What do you do for a living?"

"What do I do?"

You nodded with enthusiasm. "Yeah. I have this friend who said you were close with a professor she was assisting. I got curious about your job because you have this academic vibe."

Seungcheol's shoulders rocked as he laughed. "Do I now?"

You smiled sheepishly. "No, not really. But you seem like one. Given your choice of books and professor friend."

He nodded affirmatively. "I can see how you came to that conclusion."

"See, even the way you talk is intelligent," you commented and that seemed to have caught him off-guard, making him laugh shyly and look away for a second.

"Do you always speak that way?"

Your hands flew over your mouth, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Why? How do I speak?"

"Like you're empowering people by praising them too much," he replied. "Or do you do it unknowingly?"

"Is that how I sounded? Wow, that explains a lot of things," you blurted, recalling all the times you got unwanted attention from guys who claimed you were flirting with them.

"Like what?"

"What?" you retorted, refusing to answer honestly.

"Never mind, but to answer your question, I'm not really an academic, whatever you think that is." He paused and appeared to hesitate before saying, "I'm a liar."

"A lawyer?"

"No, a liar."

"Yes, a lawyer," you repeated, chuckling as you took a sip from your still-warm cup of coffee. "I figured that much after finding out you went to law school."

"You know an awful lot about me," he quipped so you shook your head in denial.

"No. Just that bit." You paused, realizing you knew more than that bit. "And your professor friend. And maybe your... age... too..."

"My age? Were you curious about my age?"

Yes. "No," you lied, laughing derisively. "It just came up during the one time when we talked about you. Once."

Seungcheol chuckled heartily. "Alright, if you say so."

You were still reeling in embarrassment when your phone buzzed, signaling a message from Yoori. She was asking if you're still out and when you'd be back so you took that as your cue to leave.

"I have to go. It's way past my bedtime," you quipped, pointing at your wristwatch. That prompted Seungcheol to check his too.

"Yeah, looks like it." He smiled at you, a friendly smile that you knew you'd be seeing again sometime. "Good luck with your assignment."

"Ugh, don't remind me." You rolled your eyes as you finished packing up your stuff. "See you around, Seungcheol-nim."

Your little meet-ups with Seungcheol were spontaneous and mostly happened when you least expected it. But over time, you got familiar with his patterns and found out he was there at random but at specific times of day; either late in the morning or late at night. Most of the time, you catch him there late in the morning, in the quiet nook he seemed to have reserved for himself or the long table by the windows. Whenever he sees you walk in by yourself, he offers to share his table where you would lose track of time just talking. The subjects of your conversations were random, often mundane but interesting enough to keep discussing. In these encounters, you found out how, despite your differences in preferences, you share common interests in literature, coffee, and music. He still speaks like an older guy, and his insights were interesting. More often than not, your opinions agree with each other. On the rare occasions when it doesn't, you're always the first to call him out, sparking a friendly debate that lets you in on his deep thoughts about the matter. While the age gap isn't that much and most people his age are good enough with technology and trends, Seungcheol admits he does not indulge too much in such things. This became something you would always tease him about.

"Is this seat taken?" you asked the moment you caught him by himself at his usual table. He panicked at your arrival, closing his book at once and hiding it under his hands.

"No classes today?" he casually asked but you already have your eyes on the book he was hiding. You sat across from him and placed your stuff on the vacant chair.

"Not until 2:30. What's that you got there?" you hinted, grinning mischievously before trying to snatch it. Seungcheol was quick to hide it and pretended not to know what you meant, looking around stupidly. "You don't have to hide it. I know that book. I saw it when I came in. I thought you're not a fan of romance novels?"

Seungcheol quietly took the book out of his coat and placed it on the table with a flustered expression. "I'm not but I do read a few. And this is a good book."

You grimaced. "Wait till you finish reading it."

"I have actually. I like to re-read this from time to time," he confessed, clearing his throat as if he was embarrassed to say what he just said.

Now you're straight-up giving him a judging gaze. "No, you don't."

"I do."

"But it's terrible. The author portrayed love in the most clichéd way possible and she wrote the most boring main character ever with no character development and ended up leaving everything behind for a guy. She started as a damsel in distress that needed saving and she stayed that way until a macho male character saved her. So boring."

"I disagree. The story is set in the 1500s when opportunities were scarce for women. She was denied a lot of things and had to live a life mapped out for her by society and other people. Her love interest was a man with access to limitless privileges. And while I do admire headstrong and independent female protagonists, I also think it's alright to get out of a bad place with someone else's help."

"I have to admit, that's a good point. But that's not the only problem. The author wrote a perfect love interest. He's too nice and charismatic. Also consistent and cares about her thoughts et cetera. He's too good to be true. And the way he pined for her and never gave up on her? Unrealistic! That's where I draw the line."

"I thought you didn't finish it?" he teased. "You seem to know the story better than I do."

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest. "I had to force myself to finish it because it was for an assignment. I remember writing an analysis and a vicious critique on it."

"Did your professor agree with you though?"

"Hah! Of course not! But she still gave me a good grade for my work. Her insights were the same as yours, actually. Obviously, people can have different opinions about the same things. So, you're entitled to your own opinions just as I am to mine," you replied, chiming as you recalled that particular time in your life.

"Have you ever been in love?" he asked, as if challenging you to argue your claim.

"I have. That's why I know the author made a fantasy version of love."

"You don't know that. What's fantasy to you might be reality for her. Or to whoever it was that she got the inspiration from."

You scoffed, "Seungcheol-nim, love is subjective. You can continue enjoying that book. You don't have to convince me. My last relationship showed me an entirely different version of romance. While he seemed like the man from the novel at the very beginning, with his handwritten letters and sweet-smelling flowers, it took him four months to show his true colors. He dated three women while we were together. Three! And we're all from the same university!"

Seungcheol looked appalled. "He did?"

"Yes! Gosh, he was an absolute jerk. I always wondered how he got away with it for that long."

"That's relatable, somehow," he commented, making you snigger.

"What? You got cheated on too?" you asked but then you saw him hesitate so you shook your hands at him. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to. I'm only comfortable telling you about my ex because I believe more people should know what a scumbag he is."

He laughed upon hearing that. "Alright, but did that last relationship change how you think about love at all?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and confidently said, "Of course not. All I got from that experience was that he was a jerk, and love is a different experience each time. I know not everyone will treat me the same way. I've had good relationships before that."

"If any of it were good, it wouldn't have ended and you wouldn't have met your last ex." His comment made you scowl and snicker.

"So you're like a love expert now?" you teased so he laughed heartily. "I mean, I had no idea I could talk to you about love and romances like this."

"Honestly? Me too," he laughed, tapping the book on the table. "This book has this effect on me, I guess."

After a few more criticisms about the book, you and Seungcheol let the hours tick by just talking. Lunchtime came soon enough and you had to leave first because you made plans with some friends to eat lunch together.

"Ah, can I get your number?" he asked just as you were about to leave. He handed his phone to you and added, "If you don't mind."

"Yeah, sure," you told him, taking his cell to type in your number. You've been talking and hanging out with Seungcheol for almost a month already, but this is the first time he asked you for your number. Not that he has to because you two never really needed to talk remotely. Thinking about it now, you don't really have anything to talk about on the phone. Maybe that's why he never asked for your number before nor did you wonder why you don't have his. Sure, you follow each other on social media, but asking for your number means you are closer now and will probably start texting each other.

You were right. When you got home after school that day, you received a text message from him, introducing himself and asking you to save his phone number. Turns out Seungcheol is going out of town for work and wants to keep in touch.

Seungcheol: Execs are boring. I could use someone to talk to.

You: it's okay to admit that you chose me because you don't have other friends

You grinned mischievously after sending your reply, happy to tease him. You once asked him why he's always alone when you find him in the cafe and the subject ended with you concluding that he had no friends. It has since become an inside joke between the two of you that you would sometimes tease him about.

Seungcheol: I do have friends but I'll admit I enjoy our talks more than with any of them.

You: Okay, Seungcheol-nim.

Seungcheol: Speak comfortably, y/n. You don't have to keep calling me Seungcheol-nim.

You: ??? You: I'm used to it now tho You: It would be weird to start calling you oppa LOL

Seungcheol: Why is that weird? I'm older so technically, I am your oppa.

Shock triggered your hand to lose grip on your phone and send it falling on your forehead, making you yelp and sit up from the bed. Groaning, you pressed the throbbing space between your eyebrows and picked up the device to reread Seungcheol's message.

"Wow," you sneered. "Choi Seungcheol, you handsome specimen, you better not be flirting with me."

You: Alright, then, Seungcheol-oppa.

"Because I will flirt right back," you mumbled, unable to hide your grin.

You had no idea at the time that your little nook in the cafe was about to expand and take up a bigger space in your lives.

Texting Seungcheol was funny to you because it eerily felt like an email correspondence. He sounded serious all the time and formatted his texts in a standard manner. He's too formal and rarely ever used emojis. He reacts with a plain 'hahaha' and the best you can get out of him is a 'lol'. It was probably because he's a lawyer; the formal nature of his job must have influenced even his basic activities, like casual chatting and texting. Surely it has to be that because there is no way he's too old to know how to use emojis or any slang. After all, five years ain't that much of a gap.

Seungcheol: Yes, it is extremely boring but this will all be over tomorrow so I'm holding out.

You: damn You: 1 more day of listening to old men talk all day? You: couldn't be me. You: I'd be gone on the first day. props to you for surviving the past three days tho

Seungcheol: lol hahaha

"Eh? Did he really just 'lol hahaha' me?" You squinted at your screen, glaring too much that you thought your eyes might bore a hole through your phone. Your thumb tapped the call button before pressing the device to your ear.

Seungcheol picked up almost immediately, clearing his throat on the other line before greeting you with a "Hello?"

"Is now a bad time for a call?"

"The day is over and I'm in my suite now so no, it's not a bad time."

You nodded, although he couldn't see it. "Good. My fingers are tired," you lied because you thought it would be rude to tell him you can't handle any more of his boring standard text formatting.

"Really? You could just tell me, you know. We can call it a day. Get some rest. Talk again tomorrow."

His voice reverberated beautifully in your ears; calm, well-articulated, and soothing, like mellow music playing in a cafe. That alone was enough for your heart to feel at ease but he just said you can talk again tomorrow. He's saying he wants to continue your little chats. He's enjoying your company even though it's only through the phone. Maybe you're right, but maybe you're reading too much on something that has no meaning at all. Either way, your heart swelled with excitement and joy along with a tiny ache that you can't explain. You knew this feeling since you've felt it before. The friendship you have with Seungcheol is starting to make your heart flutter.

"Hah!" you scoffed at your own thoughts. "Alright then. Good night, Seungcheol-nim."

"Or we could talk now too! Now!" he blurted in a panic, making you laugh. "I mean, if you're not tired yet. We could keep talking. Isn't this better than texting?"

"It is," you agreed. "But what can I do? It's already past my bedtime."

Seungcheol chuckled. "I thought your bedtime was at 3?"

"It's constantly changing. It's the era of drastic changes, Seungcheol-nim. Adaptability is a good edge," you jested. You can hear him laughing from the other side and couldn't help grinning to yourself. He sounded so humored that you felt a little proud of your wit.

"Right," he said as he stopped laughing and cleared his throat. "So is it your bedtime yet or what?"

"No. My bedtime changed thirty seconds ago. Adaptability, you know."

He went on to laugh again, making you grin fondly. It wasn't even that funny but he's laughing like he's in a standup bar or something. Either way, the sound that's filling your ears is also making your heart feel full.

The next morning, Seolhee complained about you being a tad too loud last night with your laughter and giggling. That caught you off-guard, making you hide your phone after sending a reply to Seungcheol's message.

"Sorry. I was on the phone with someone," you confessed, scrunching your nose cutely as you watched Seolhee take her seat on the dining table.

"Have you started seeing someone again?" she speculated. "You talked for hours last night so it must be serious."

You shook your head. "No, duh. It's just Seungcheol-nim."

"Choi Seungcheol?" Yoori asked, placing a plate of side dishes on the table. "You're dating Seungcheol now? Good for you, girl!"

"What? No!" you strongly denied. "We were just talking. It was a friendly chat."

"Friendly chats don't go on until past midnight, y/n," Seolhee hinted, giving you a knowing look. "Whatever it is that you think have with him right now, you better confirm it before you go falling for him. I know he's charming and all that but safeguard your heart."

Yoori hummed affirmatively. "She's right but falling for him is not that bad an idea. He seemed nice."

"He does seem nice but you have to first make sure you're on the same page. The earlier you know, the better. You can't wait until you've fallen for him before you ask what his intentions are."

You would never bring up relationships with Seungcheol, especially between the two of you. It would only make things awkward between you if it turns out he was just being friendly and even more so if you find out that he was looking to date you. Why? He is a wonderful guy, but there are a lot of things to consider. You don't know his background despite knowing his hobbies, his dislikes, his habits, etc. You can't help but think Cheol had been hiding behind a persona the whole time or that he isn't willing to properly open up to you. Sure, you're up close and personal, but there's a fine line between who he is with you and who he is as a person. Somehow it felt like you knew a lot about him but not enough to really know who he is.

So you sat in front of your computer, looking through his Instagram account for any clue about his life. Based on the dates of his posts, he rarely updated his feed and probably never used the site that much. He had random pictures posted there but he didn't have one of himself except on a handful of group pictures. His profile picture isn't even of himself but a dog.

"So he has a pet, huh?" you mumbled, smiling at the pictures of a cute Maltese dog. "Of course, he has one. He looked like the kind who would have one. I wonder who takes care of it when he's away or when he's at work."

You were still scrolling through his posts when your phone buzzed, signaling a message. It was Seungcheol. "Wow, you really should not speak of the devil."

Seungcheol: Any plans tomorrow night? I have two tickets to a concert. You can have the other one if you want it.

You grimaced. "Or you could just invite me to go with you like a normal person."

You pouted as you thought about what to say but then something in your mind clicked, sending your heart on a rampage. Could it be that he's inviting you to go with him? Obviously, he is, right? He said he had two tickets and he'll give you one. That's it, right? That's the invite!

"Oh lord," you blurted, closing your laptop and tucking it into your bag before you went running out of the cafe. You typed in a hurried reply as you walked briskly back to your shared apartment.

Barging into your apartment and closing the door with a loud slam, you stared wide-eyed at Seolhee and Yoori who looked back at you curiously.

"I think Seungcheol-oppa just invited me out on a date."

"And?" Seolhee asked while Yoori was suppressing excited squeals.

"And I might have said 'yes'."

Seolhee was stern about your ambiguity. You said you were invited, but you also said it wasn't an explicit invitation. Still, she helped you prepare for the date along with Yoori who was just leaping with joy.

"Remember, he didn't say it was a date. So don't overthink it," Seolhe told you while styling your hair on the night of said date. "As long as he doesn't say it out loud, there is no real relationship between you other than a friendly relationship."

"Remember also to enjoy the night," Yoori interjected. "Don't let negativity ruin the experience."

“Now, where is he? Didn’t he say he’d pick you up?” Seolhee asked as soon as you were ready to leave. Dressing up took a while because you couldn’t decide which dress to wear and what look to go with. It’s a classical music concert and the dress code was black tie. Thankfully, your roommates were eager to help.

“He should be here by now,” you replied, glancing at the clock on the wall. At that moment, the doorbell of your shared apartment rang.

Cheol was dashing in his suit. He had always looked attractive in casual clothing–a shirt, a jacket, or a layer of coats and shirts. But seeing him all dressed up made you giddy. Even his hair is styled neatly. He greeted your friends and had a small talk before you got into his car. You know he drives a car, but you've never really seen him in it. When you pointed that out, he said the cafe was close by so he always walked there.

"Are we neighbors?" you had asked.

And he replied with, "No, not really. I go the opposite way from your apartment. So, we’ve been meeting halfway all this time."

The concert was fancy, not your type of scene but you enjoyed it nonetheless. Even the people looked wealthy. It was a hall filled with all kinds of people who exuded an air of elegance, power, or authority about them. As if that’s not intimidating enough, you and Seungcheol had to sit in a private booth on the second floor, away from the regular crowd, with just about five other people there with you. They said your guts would know if you’re somewhere you shouldn’t be, perhaps that’s why your belly is turning.

You weren't poor, but you're not rich enough to afford these types of pastimes either. Your parents are self-made businessmen who are earning enough to be in the upper-middle-class society. Still, even an occasional, super rare splurge on shopping is a luxury. Thus, you started to wonder what Sungcheol does for a living. Is he self-made? Do lawyers earn a lot? Or did he come from a wealthy family? It must be his family because operas and classical music are usually acquired tastes.

The concert ended and was met with a standing ovation. Heck, even the way these people clapped was elegant, like there was a certain discipline to it. No cheering, no hoots and whistles, just synchronous, pleasant-sounding clapping.

You were still clapping when you felt Seungcheol’s shoulder on yours. He was leaning to your ear, whispering, “Come meet my parents.”

“Your what?” you blurted, surprised. Before you could utter another word, however, Seungcheol was already tugging on your waist, ushering you toward the other side of the booth. You spotted two elders who you assumed were his parents. With them was a younger man who just said something that made the elegant lady laugh.

Then the younger man caught sight of you and smiled widely. “It’s Seungcheol!”

“Mother, Father,” Seungcheol greeted as soon as you got closer to where they were standing. You clenched your fists, hoping to stop them from jittering. “Good to see you.”

Mother? Father? Don’t people usually call their parents ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’?

“Hello, hunny,” his mother beamed, welcoming Seungcheol in her arms when he moved to hug her. And while his father was shaking hands with him, his mother eyed you curiously. “And who is this lovely lady?”

“Oh, um–”

“This is my friend, y/n,” Seungcheol introduced. “She’s joining me this evening.”

“So I see,” the Mother chimed. She glided over to you for a quick embrace. “It’s nice to meet you, darling.”

“It’s good to meet you too,” you replied with a smile. “You raised an excellent man.”

His mother laughed heartily, flattered. “I wouldn’t boast about it, but he did grow up excellently.”

You shared a giggle before Seungcheol’s father spoke to you. “Are you a friend from work? You look quite young to be a lawyer. Fresh from the bar exams, I take it?”

“Uh, no,” you replied, trying your best to not appear nervous. “I’m actually still a student. AB Linguistics.”

“Ah, I see,” his father hummed. “Linguistics? That’s a good program.”

“Thank you, sir,” you beamed. “I enjoy it very much.”

“As you should. Seunghan here is pursuing Linguistics too. He’s in his fourth year.”

Seunghan, Seungcheol’s brother smiled widely at you. You smiled back and said, “I’m in my fourth year too.”

“Really? Wow, are we the same age?” he asked, genuinely amazed. He turned to Seungcheol. “We’re the same age? I almost called her Noona.”

Seungcheol was about to respond when a woman interjected with a cheery greeting. It was the cellist from the concert, the star of this event. She first went to greet Seunghan and then the parents.

“Thank you so much for coming,” she told the father, who smiled in response.

“It was an impressive performance. You did well,” he praised.

“Mom, you’re glowing,” she told Seungcheol’s mother. “You look even prettier than the last time we saw each other.”

“Oh, you sweet little fox,” his mother chided, but she was giggling and touching her face. The woman’s statement seemed to have flattered her more than when you said her son was excellent. And she called her Mom, she must be family.

“Oppa!” she exclaimed, leaping a little to wrap her arms around Seungcheol whose arms were still around your waist. You got pushed aside, violently, and fell on the floor with a thud.

Embarrassment made your cheeks flare as you hurriedly stood. Seungcheol helped you up, worriedly asking if you were alright.

“I’m sorry,” the other woman apologized. “I didn’t think that would happen. How clumsy of me.”

You smiled half-heartedly, looking away from everyone’s worried gazes. “I’m fine,” you told Seungcheol who was still eyeing you with concern. You patted your dress down, feeling extremely shy.

Then the woman held out her hand, “I’m Mina. Nice to meet you.”

You stared at the hand for a moment before taking it in yours and telling her your name. “It was a great concert. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you liked it,” she smiled, then looked at Seungcheol. “Is she your friend? I’ve never seen her before.”

“She is,” he replied curtly. You couldn’t help noticing Mina’s elegant demeanor. She exuded elegance and class that you’ve only seen on TV shows about rich people. The way she spoke was beautiful and enticing. Even her motions were so fluid and beautiful, plus her mannerisms were cute. It was like being in the presence of someone who is hundreds of times better than regular people–than you are.

“Anyway, thanks again for coming, oppa,” Mina told Seungcheol, patting his shoulder before placing her hands on both. She flashed a sweet, coquettish smile and leaned to kiss Seungcheol on his cheek. “See you again soon?”

“Okay,” Seungcheol replied, flattening his lips into a smile.

Mina turned to you, her hand sliding naturally on Seungcheol’s arm and linking it there. “It was nice to meet you, y/n. Good thing you’re not dating because that would have been so awkward.” She laughed.

"No, we're just friends,” Seungcheol iterated.

“I know. You already said so, oppa,” Mina beamed. “I have to go. Thanks for coming and see you next time.”

She then fled the booth, leaving you and Sungcheol there by yourselves. His parents left a while ago, telling you to catch up with Mina. Seunghan didn’t stay for long too, and left shortly after their parents. Your eyes flitted over to Seungcheol who was still looking at the door Mina exited on. You even witnessed the heavy sigh he let out a few minutes later before turning to you.

“Shall we go?”

You nodded in response. He offered his arm for you to hold on to and you did just that as you walked out of the booth, to the hall, to the lobby, until you reached the entrance where his car was being driven out of the parking lot by the valet. The first few minutes of the ride home were quiet and it was stressing you out. He should at least say something to fix this awkward atmosphere. Maybe, you should. But you had no idea what to talk about.

Should you ask him about his family? Or Mina? What do you have to lose? He brought you here so he should expect you to have questions. This is one way to get to know each other, right? Right.

“How do you know the cellist?” you began, eliciting an inquiring hum from Seungcheol. “Mina, the cellist. You seem to know each other.”

“Ah, her,” he acknowledged, pausing. “Yeah, we knew each other. We used to be in a relationship.”

You expected this to be the answer, but it still shocked you to hear him confirm it. “I see.”

“We broke up a long time ago. She had to leave and study music abroad. It couldn’t be helped.”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed. You couldn’t say anything because your mind was focusing on the slight but stabbing pain in your chest. You were, in fact, feeling a little jealous. Mina was everything you’re not. She’s close with his family too and they have a history. Maybe Seungcheol was just being friendly, after all.

When you arrived home, your roommates were excited to hear about the date, but you told them you were tired and wanted to sleep. As thoughts floated through your mind endlessly, you wondered if he brought you to the concert as a decor to make his ex jealous. That made you even sadder but you told yourself you were overthinking it and you know he is not that kind of guy.

And then again, if you think about it, did you really truly know him that well?

You hadn't heard from Seungcheol for a while after the concert. Sad, but it was fine too because you weren't really looking for him. You had a crush on the guy, but it was over before it got deeper–which was good because now you don’t have to think about him all the time. School was demanding enough, you can’t have a guy distracting you from that.

And yet, despite your constant denial, not a day passed by without Seungcheol crossing your mind. What can you do? You don’t just forget someone overnight, especially if you like that person. Funnily enough, thoughts of Seungcheol never distracted you from your studies, instead, they made you want to work harder.

That said, you sat at a table at The Coffeehouse with a classmate to work on a project. His name was Jinwoo and he’s been flirting with you all semester. In fact, he paired up with you on this project just so he could spend time with you–he said so himself. He’s alright; charming, smart, and cute. Although you had no intentions of going out with him yet, you thought it would be fine to see where things would go. Especially with Seungcheol out of your hair.

“Seungcheol-nim?” you blurted. You were just thinking about Seungcheol when you realized the person who approached your table just now was him.

“Hello, y/n. How have you been?” He was asking you, but his eyes were fixated on Jinwoo, who only noticed Seungcheol when you called out his name.

“I’ve been well,” you replied hesitantly, recognizing his intense gaze on your classmate. “This is Jinwoo. We’re working on a project together.”

“A project?” he asked, his face softening as he glanced at you. “Good. I texted you.”

“Oh, you did?” You fished your phone from your bag and saw that he did message you; one from last night and another a few hours ago. “Sorry. I was working on school stuff. I haven’t been checking my phone much.”

“Alright. I won’t disturb you. Good luck,” he smiled.

“Yeah, I’ll text you later.”

“You don’t have to. But I’ll call you after dinner.”

You tilted your head in wonder. But you still said, “Okay.”

And he did, he called you at around 8 that night and asked how your day went. It wasn't strange to tell him how your day went. That had always been your topic every time you called each other at night. But Sungcheol seemed overly interested in it today. He kept asking more questions instead of responding to your answers with a few accounts of his own day. When he seemed to have run out of anything to ask about your day, he asked about your partner on the project.

"So, do you always get paired up with that guy?"

Your brows creased. "That guy? Jinwoo?"

He changed his question. "Never mind. How long have you been working on that paper?"

"Just a few days,” you replied, lying down to stare at the ceiling.

"Three days?" he asked from the other line.

"Now that you mentioned it, yes, it's been three days. How'd you guess that?"

Sungcheol huffed. "I just did."

"You just did?"

"We haven't talked for three days, so I just pieced it together."

"I see," you hummed, nodding even though you know he can't see it. You squinted your eyes, realizing something in his tone and attitude ever since you started this conversation. "Seungcheol-nim, is this an interrogation?"

"And there's that too," he sighed from the other line. You can almost picture how his already pouty lips are pouting even more along with the creasing of his forehead.

"What?" you asked.

"Seungcheol-nim."

"Huh?"

"Seungcheol-nim. When did you decide to go back to calling me that?"

"Oh, that? Just recently."

"Why is that?"

Because you found out his ex called him oppa and is still calling him that. "Just because. It shouldn't matter. How I address you is not that big of a deal."

"It's not?"

"No. It's not."

"Alright."

"Alright..." he echoed. You had nothing else to say to that, so you just breathed. The thoughts swimming in your head don't make sense, but you let them keep your mind busy instead of overthinking this whole conversation with Seungcheol. He's gone quiet too, probably running out of anything else to say. Or probably thinking random thoughts like you are. But it looks like he didn't want to end the call and of course, you don't really want to either.

"Seungcheol-nim?" Breathing. All you can hear from the other line is breathing; deep inhales and calm exhales from him that make you assume he had fallen asleep.

"Are you sleeping?" you asked but again, all you could hear was calm breathing. You pictured him on his bed, one hand pressing the phone on his ear and the other resting on his abdomen. You pictured the rise and fall of his chest with every inhale of air that you can hear. You pictured his face, peaceful and handsome even with his eyes closed. These are the thoughts and images that filled your head as you closed your eyes and fell asleep to the sound of his breathing

Your phone was dead when you woke up in the morning, making you wonder how long were you on the phone with Seungcheol; if he really was asleep the whole time, or if he woke up and hung up sometime in the night. As soon as you turned it on after a quick trip to the bathroom, you found a message from him.

Seungcheol: Working all day today. Cafe tonight? My treat.

You smiled as you typed a reply saying 'yes' to meeting him tonight. The bounce in your steps and the chime in your voice did not miss Seolhee's radar and she ambushed you at the breakfast table.

"You look like you had a good sleep. I thought you said you're done with Seungcheol?" Seolhee began.

"And those two correlate because?"

"Because Seungcheol is obviously the reason why you're smiling today."

"What makes you think so?" you retorted, trying to squirm out of her grasp. You wouldn't lie to her but you would never admit it either, especially after you gave them a whole spiel about you not settling for a guy who seemed uncertain about his intentions.

"I just know."

"You're too confident," you jeered, poking a sausage with your fork and taking a bite out of it.

Seolhee chuckled. "Whatever you do, don't get hurt. I'll kill him myself."

You chortled. "That's weirdly reassuring. Thanks."

You couldn't wait for your evening class to be over and run to the CoffeeHouse. It was an embarrassing thing to admit because only a few days ago, you were upset and told your roommates you didn't want anything to do with Seungcheol anymore. And yet, here you are, back to acting like a giddy teenager.

Seungcheol: Are you still in class? The cafe is closed.

"Damn it?" you muttered upon reading Seungcheol's text. The class just finished and you were walking out of the classroom with other students. As you typed a reply, you noticed Jinwoo walking with you.

"Hi. A little update on our paper," he began, standing in front of you and walking backward so he was face-to-face with you while talking. "I've proofread the entire thing and fixed any error I could find. It's pretty much ready for submission."

You beamed at him. "Thank you, Jinwoo. Do you think it's okay to submit it earlier than the deadline?"

"Knowing Professor Choi? He'd be singing our praises all semester for our punctuality and whatnot."

You giggled, finding his sentiments accurate and funny at the same time. "I bet he will. I'll trust you with it alright?"

"You know you can," he chimed, the lilt in his voice was endearing. "Listen, there's a party at the Delphi this Saturday. Would you like to-"

"Seungcheol-nim!" you called out when you spotted Seungcheol by the gate. He found you among the crowd and waved at you with a smile. The pleasant sight of him smiling didn't last long though because seeing Jinwoo made him scowl.

"The cafe is closed?" you asked as soon as you were within his reach. "Why though? The cafe never closes."

Seungcheol sighed, eyes focused on Jinwoo who was still tailing behind you. "Yeah. Something about a sanitation check. I'm not sure. I just found out about it."

"Did you ask Mingyu?"

"I did. He said it was a sanitation check but he wasn't sure either." He exhaled before shifting his gaze on you. "Do you have other plans tonight?"

You gawked at him for a second and then realized Jinwoo was still there. Seungcheol must have thought you had plans with him.

"No, I don't," you replied then turned to Jinwoo. "Thanks again, Jinwoo. Let me know if Professor Mich says anything about the paper."

"Yeah. Okay," he blurted, backing away. "See you tomorrow."

You smiled at him and beckoned at Seungcheol who was still wearing a deadpan expression. When you've walked far away enough from the gate and Jinwoo had gone his own way too, you tugged on Seungcheol's coat.

"Everything okay? We could just go home, you know. Try again tomorrow?" you asked, thinking he was miffed about the cafe being closed.

"It's alright. There are plenty of other cafes around," he replied, forcing a smile. "Are you okay with walking around tonight? I would have brought a car had I known the Coffeehouse was closed."

You rolled your eyes. "Duh. Let's go."

And thus began a spontaneous night out. Seungcheol suggested you go for a walk to the next cafe but your conversations proved to be too much fun when you missed the cafe and even missed your apartment. It was funny to both of you and you would go on to continue walking until you reached a quiet neighborhood. You climbed the uphill stairs and watched the cityscape from there.

"Seungcheol-nim, what was your dream?"

"My dream?" he asked. surprised.

"Yes, as a child. Your current job, is it what you dreamed of?"

Seungcheol leaned on the railings and gazed at the city lights. "Not a lawyer, for sure. I kinda just had to do it because everyone in the family is doing it."

You rested your chin on the cold steel bar of the railings. "So what was it?"

"A teacher."

Your eyes widened. "A teacher?"

"Yes." He chuckled. Your eyes appreciated how the wind blew his hair out of his face. "A college professor, actually. My uncle was one and he was my role model. I was set on being a teacher before I entered college but as you can see, I'm not."

"How about now? I'm sure you still have time to change careers."

"Nah," he shrugged. "I'm content with where I'm at right now."

"But do you want it?"

Seungcheol looked at you, pursing his lips as he nodded. "Of course. And if I don't change my mind about it in, say five or more years, I might consider shifting."

"It shouldn't be so hard, right? I mean, you're already a lawyer. You can teach criminal justice or something like that."

He smiled at you, impressed by your input. "Yeah. Something like that."

You wiggled your eyebrows. "I bet you'd be a really cool teacher."

Seungcheol frowned. "You said I'm boring and speak like an old man."

"The old man part was a joke and even if you're the boring kind of teacher, you'd still be cool because handsome teachers are cool."

"You think I'm handsome?"

You started laughing a little too loudly after he caught you off-guard. "Did I say that?"

"You didn't but you were implying it."

"You lawyers like to twist people's words, don't you?"

Seungcheol shrugged, chucking his hands in his coat pockets. "Only when it's advantageous. And there was no need to twist anything. The implication was clear."

"Okay, I'm gonna go," you chuckled, walking back down the stairs. Seungcheol followed behind you with a smile. "Oh, and we should drop by the coffee shop. I need caffeine because I've been home all day and there's no coffee at home."

"Isn't it too late for coffee? Don't you need to sleep?" he asked, casually catching your elbow when you lost your balance on the steps.

You felt the way his hand clenched on your arm, impressed by the strength of his hold. Then your mind embarrassingly flashed an image of his muscles underneath his coat. The amount of times you saw him in t-shirts sometimes had you gawking at his strong arms but only now did you start imagining how it would feel like to be locked in those muscles.

"Decaf?" he prompted, making your eyes flutter back to his face. You pulled your arm back and continued walking.

"Yeah. Decaf."

You shook your head a few times, trying to erase the image of yourself in his arms. It was embarrassing and you were worried that he could see through you. He can't obviously, but you still wish you were not giving off any signs. You refused when Seungcheol offered to walk you back to your apartment but he insisted on it, saying it would be dangerous for you to go alone. He must have thought it was weird for you to decline because you never did that before. If he did think that, you'll never know because he never said so.

"What's your dream?" he asked, breaking the silence between you while you walked down the quiet streets.

"Like a dream job?" you questioned, briefly glancing at him to see him nod. "I'm not sure. I actually don't have one. But I was thinking of establishing a tutoring clinic like my mom has."

"A cram school?"

"Yes. My only dream was to be content and happy with my life; to live in the city in a cozy apartment, tending to plants, and reading books. But of course, none of that is possible without an actual job and I thought my mom's job was cool, so I was considering doing what she does."

"You'd make a really cool teacher."

You snorted. "I'm not gonna be a teacher. More like an instructor."

"Aren't they the same thing?"

"They are kind of the same thing," you laughed shyly. "But they're different too. I don't know. I haven't given it much thought. I think I'm just living for the now, going where the flow takes me and not taking control of my own life. It feels awful sometimes."

"How is that awful? Going with the flow is actually smart. Knowing what you want your life to be is good too, even if the path towards that hasn't been planned yet."

You shrugged. "I guess you're right. But I think I'm just lucky enough to not worry about my future as much as other people do. No one's pressuring me into anything, not my parents, not the society."

"Yes. You are lucky."

You pointed to the apartment complex in front of you. "I'm here. Thanks for walking me."

Seungcheol smiled at you, reaching to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear. "Good night, y/n."

"Good night, Seungcheol-nim."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Is there any way I can get you to drop that?"

"What? Seungcheol-nim?"

"Yes."

"What else would I call you?"

"You didn't seem to have any problems calling me oppa before?" he complained, looking away as he scratched his nape and muttered. "I liked that better."

"What was that?" you asked when you didn't catch his last sentence. He glanced back at you.

"I said you can call me Cheol."

"I can? But you're older than me."

"It's alright. You said how you address me is not a big deal."

You beamed happily. "Alright, Cheol."

“Alright, y/n.”

You beamed. “Alright.”

“Alright…”

Like Hazel Grace and Augustus, alright has become your always.

Imagine living in a big city, with lots of massive stores, and massive buildings, but you still bump into an ex from three years ago? Baffling. But then, here you are, awkwardly sifting through shelves for a bottle of mayo while your ex asks you how you’ve been.

“I’ve been well, Yeol. Thanks for asking. Now would you please go away? I’m busy.”

Yeol just chuckled, amused. “I see you haven’t changed one bit.”

“I have. I don’t care about anything you have to say anymore,” you retorted but it only made him laugh harder.

“Gosh, y/n. I really fumbled you, didn’t I? You’re so endearing. It’s a shame you had to find out about the other girls.”

In the past, you would have kicked his shins, but you don’t even want to give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of you. You turned to face him, gave him a deadpan expression, and said, “Move. I need that one there.”

Yeol moved one step aside, letting you take a product from the shelf behind him. As you were examining it, he crossed his arms over his chest and asked, “By the way, I heard you’re seeing someone now. Is it true?”

You scowled, but you didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s not true.”

“It isn’t? That’s good. Save yourself the trouble. Choi Seungcheol and Song Mina are trying to get back together.”

You froze in your tracks, your hand hovering by the shelf as you were about to put a product back in it. Yeol, oblivious to your shock, continued. “From what I heard, they’ll soon be engaged.”

“How did you know?” you asked him, forehead creasing with curiosity and annoyance.

“I know a friend of Song Mina’s. I got to hang out with her the last time she was in Seoul,” he replied but you shook your head at him.

“No. How did you know about me and Seungcheol?”

Yeol touched his chin to think. “I heard from a friend who told me he’d seen my ex-girlfriend with Lawyer Choi.”

“That’s all?”

“He said you two seemed close and asked if I knew you were seeing him. I told him I didn’t, of course. I had no idea what you’ve been up to since we broke up.” Yeol was still talking when you pushed your cart and walked away. He called out your name but you ignored him.

Seungcheol is trying to get back with Mina; why didn’t you think that’d be a possibility? He must still have feelings for her. And if they’re engaged, then it’s fine too. The news made you sad, but at least it was clear to you now that his intentions weren’t to date you or anything. He wanted you as a friend, that's it. Nothing more. At least you now know which place you’re allowed to stand on in his life. If you keep letting yourself mistake his actions for affection, it could end badly for you.

Resolute, you decided to limit contact and meetups. It's inappropriate to keep seeing him regularly when he's trying to win his girl back. There will be no more late-night talks, no more meeting up for coffee, and no more hanging out until late with just the two of you. You’re drawing the line for Mina and him to get back together. And most importantly, for yourself to stop falling for him even more.

Although you’d like to completely avoid him, you couldn’t. Seungcheol never said anything about liking you or trying to date you. So you can’t hold it against him if you develop feelings for him. That’s on you. Plus, you liked being friends with him and he seemed to like that too, so you’re cutting yourself some slack and allowing yourself to at least enjoy your friendship. You feel a little terrible, some itty bitty heartache but it’s fine. Everyone does.

“How are things with Mina?” you had asked him once when you ran into each other at the CoffeeHouse. He had been caught off-guard, but he just shrugged it off.

“We’re working on it,” was what he told you at the time.

“Good for you,” you had replied, although you didn’t mean it.

Over two weeks, you counted all the times he invited you out but you refused: four. You did fewer coffee runs and spent less time in the cafe. You focused on your other hobbies and hung out with your other friends. Whether or not he noticed the shift in you, you wouldn’t know because you never got the chance to talk about it.

“Ready?” Yoori asked, her head peering through the doorway of your bedroom. “Our ride is here.”

“Yeah, I’m just looking for my tumbler,” you replied, going through your bags.

“It’s in the car already,” she prompted, picking up your backpack on your bed. “Let’s go!”

You followed her through the apartment and outside where you saw Seolhee standing by a familiar car, and talking to an even more familiar guy.

“Ah, there they are!” Seolhee exclaimed, beaming at the two of you. “Shall we go now?”

Your eyes were locked on Seungcheol, confused and curious about him being here. He just gave you a smile and a small wave before taking your backpack that Yoori handed over to him. While your friends excitedly occupied the backseat of Seungcheol’s car, you waited for him to load your bag in the trunk and make his way to you.

“Good morning,” he greeted, looking cheerful and excited. “Are you ready to go?”

“What are you doing here?” you questioned sternly.

“What do you mean? Yoori invited me.”

You scowled. “Why would she do that? And why would you say ‘yes’?”

At this point, Seungcheol looked genuinely abashed by your confrontation. “Honestly, I have no idea why she did, but I said ‘yes’ because it sounded fun.”

You sighed, shoulders sagging as you contemplated whether going on this trip was a good idea anymore.

“Y/n, is everything okay? If it’s uncomfortable for you, I can cancel. I’m sure I can come up with a good excuse–”

“It’s fine, Cheol,” you said through gritted teeth. “Let’s just go.” You turned to open the car door but Seungcheol grabbed your arm before you could.

“Hey,” he called, his voice filled with worry. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” you exhaled.

“I meant between us. If you don’t want me here, I’ll just go.”

You took his hand off your arm and forced a smile. “Everything is fine, Cheol. Let’s go have fun.”

Yoori and Seolhee had no idea that you’ve been trying to avoid Seungcheol, and that was obviously why they thought inviting him to your weekend camp trip was a good idea. In the car, Yoori explained that they ran into Seungcheol at the grocery store and invited him to join you on this trip, even quipping that you all could use a free ride.

The ride to the campsite was noisy, with both Yoori and Seolhee singing to the top of their lungs. At one point during the two-hour travel, you forgot about your issues with Seungcheol and managed to have fun with everyone. Seungcheol was mostly taken aback by the energy from you and the girls, but he seemed to have had his fun too. By the time you arrived at the campsite, you were all full with the food you bought at the rest stops. None of you were tired though because you immediately got to work on building tents and setting up your area.

Seungcheol was tasked to set up the barbecue table after you girls realized how much easier it was with a man around to do the lifting and assembling. When you were done with your tent, you approached Seungcheol by the bonfire with a bottle of water. He looked like he had run a mile, with his sweaty forehead and messed up hair. He even took off his jacket, revealing his muscular physique in his tight dri-fit shirt. Had he always been this hot? You knew he was handsome but did he have to be hot too?

You cleared your throat to prompt him so he immediately noticed your presence. Looking away because you couldn’t help staring at his arms, you handed him the bottle of water.

“Thanks,” he chimed, taking the bottle and opening it.

“Tables gave you a hard time?” you questioned, eyeing the table that was standing on crooked legs.

Seungcheol gulped down half the bottle and let out a big ‘ahh’ after. “I’ll admit, I’m not so confident with this kind of task.”

You scoffed, rounding the table to the crooked leg. “I can see that.”

“But hey, I did well with the chairs,” he beamed, pointing at the chairs. “Don’t you think so?”

He was gleaming with pride and you couldn’t help smiling at him. He’s so endearing and he’s not even trying. “Yeah, good job, Cheol.”

You showed him how to fix the table and you were amazed to find that he was eager to learn.

“Guys! You should get ready for the boat!” Yoori called after a few minutes. You waved your hand in response then turned to Seungcheol.

“I hope you brought a rashguard,” you told him.

Seungcheol tilted his head in ponder. “Well, Yoori said I should bring one so I did. But I still haven’t been told why.”

You scowled. “What do you mean? Did you come here without knowing what this trip is?”

Seungcheol shrugged and looked at the tents around. “It’s a camping trip.”

“My god, Mr. Choi Seungcheol,” you sniggered. “This is a wakepark.”

Of course, the campsite didn’t look like a wakepark. If it did, Seungcheol would have figured it out. But if one were to take a quick hike up the hill and descend on the other side, he willl find a massive lake there and a wakeboarding facility. Seungcheol was amazed when he saw it and uttered praises about the location and safety concerns.

“I don’t do much water sports,” he told you as you were queueing for the safety check.

“Have you tried wakeboarding before?” Seolhee asked.

Seungcheol had an exhilarated look on his face. “I haven’t. This will be my first time.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it,” Seolhee lilted. “I was scared to do it at first, but it was really fun.”

Yoori scoffed. “Which is why this has become our favorite weekend activity.”

Your friends were first to be briefed and while you waited below the platform, Seungcheol leaned to your ear to ask, “Is this what you do for fun?”

You looked up at him at shrugged. “Not all the time, but I do like wakeboarding.”

“Hmm. You didn’t strike me as the type to like extreme sports.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled. “First of all, this isn’t that extreme. Second, since when have you been making assumptions about me?”

“That will be from the moment I first met you,” he grinned.

“Is that so?” you teased. “How many times have I proven your assumptions wrong?”

“So far, you’ve only been proving me right,” he crooned, looking pleased. “Ah, right. Except today. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks,” you deadpanned. “Since you’re not so big on water sports, what do you do for fun?”

Seungcheol paused to think and then replied, “I go to shooting ranges with friends. Sometimes golfing. It depends on the company I have, really. I mostly just do what they want to do.”

“Like right now?”

He nodded. “Yes. Like right now.”

Seungcheol said this was his first time wakeboarding and it showed when he did it for the first time. But then several times later, he has shown proficiency on the sport. In no time, he’s wakeboarding on obstacles and doing it flawlessly. While you who’s not a first-timer would rather avoid obstacles.

“Whatever happened to the safety issues you were pointing out when we got here?” you taunted when he came back from his 17th time on the board. Was it 18th? Honestly, you’ve lost count already.

“Seolhee was right,” he reveled. “This is fun.”

“I know, Mr. Sportsman. But this is where the fun ends,” you announced, motioning to the sky and the setting sun on the horizon. “This place is closing.”

“So they said,” he replied, sighing. “We should come back here next time.”

Is he saying he wants to come back with you? He said ‘we’, didn’t he?

You shook your head to get rid of your intrusive thoughts. “Yeah. For now, let’s change and go back. We’re having barbecue.”

Seungcheol was talkative on your trek back to the campsite. He’s going on and on about how thrilling wakeboarding was and how he’d love to do it again. He was even describing the experience and the tricks he did and almost did. Listening to him was heartwarming, like talking to a child adorably blabbering about something he likes.

“I take it you don’t get this much thrill in your life?” you guessed, giving him a probing gaze.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then, I guess you need to have more adventurous friends.”

“I guess but…” he trailed off. You waited for him to finish his sentence, but he didn’t.

When you reach the campsite, your friends have got the fire going in the barbecue and they wave at you to join them. Seungcheol said he needs to put away his stuff first so you went ahead without him.

“He really kept going, huh?” Seolhee asked as you sat in front of the table. “Until closing time?”

“Yeah, he was like an energetic toddler,” you quipped, laughing fondly. “You should have seen how sad he was when it closed.”

“He’s so much older than us, but he’s so cute, isn’t he?” Yoori chimed before leaning close to you and nudging your elbow. “Also, you two look cute together.”

“Friends, Yoori,” you iterated. “We’re friends.”

“Whatever you say,” she teased so Seolhee scolded her. You stuck your tongue out at her, happy that Seolhee took your side.

“Hey,” Seungcheol prompted from behind you before sitting on the chair next to yours. “I just noticed we only have two tents.”

“Huh?” You glanced over your shoulders to where the tents were set up and saw that you did have two tents only. “Oh. Oh no.”

You looked at your friends and Yoori just shrugged and told Seungcheol, “I must have forgotten to tell you to bring one.”

“Well, we’re not gonna share a tent,” you told them in a matter-of-factly tone. “I mean, duh?”

“Of course. But where would Seungcheol-nim sleep?” Seolhee asked.

You looked at Seungcheol who seemed as lost as you were. Surely you can’t share a tent with your housemates either. Yoori and Seolhee like to get intimate whenever you come to this place. You don’t know why this place specifically and you’re definitely not curious enough to find out. BUT maybe they’ll reconsider just this once?

“I can just sleep with you–”

“No!” Yoori and Seolhee interjected simultaneously.

Yoori giggled shyly. “You two can share.” You were about to protest but she spoke over you. “You’ll be in sleeping bags. Just scoot far from each other. Your tent is big anyway.”

You looked sideways at Seungcheol who shrugged and then said, “I can sleep in the car.”

You nodded. “Or we can rent a tent. They must have one in the reception.”

“Reception is closed,” Seolhee said, sheepish.

You could swear your friends are purposely trying to get you and Seungcheol to sleep in one tent. But when you checked the reception area, it really was closed. Seungcheol can’t sleep in his car. It’s uncomfortable and you’d feel bad if he did. Had you known he’d be joining you, you would have planned the trip properly. Although you knew you would probably refuse to go if you knew he’d be here too.

Before you spend the entire night contemplating the matter, Yoori manages to convince you to share the tent. Between you and Seungcheol, you eventually end up agreeing that neither of you is uncomfortable and you are both willing to share the tent.

“The kimchi is amazing, Seolhee,” you told your friend.

“Thank you. We have plenty at the apartment,” she chimed.

You turned to Seungcheol. “Seolhee’s grandma owns a restaurant in their town. Her food is out of this world amazing.”

“Really? We should go there sometime.”

There he goes again with his ‘we’ declarations. It makes you hope that there really is something between you and he feels it too. But that’s just wishful thinking. He’s actively trying to get back with his ex, he shouldn’t be hanging out with you like this. And then again, maybe he’d rather hang out with you. Maybe he’s decided that he likes being here better than anywhere else. And maybe you’re overanalyzing things so much so that you’re starting to think delusional thoughts.

No. Delusions are things that aren’t real. His jacket that he wore on you because he was worried you’d be cold was real. His hand over the backrest of your chair was real. Your bodies leaning toward each other whenever you laugh was real. The jokes you had to whisper to each other because only the two of you would understand them were real. Seungcheol is very real. So maybe, just maybe, this was something worth overthinking about.

“Okay! The bottle has spoken and it picked you, y/n,” Yoori announced, pointing the tongs at you. “Truth or dare?”

The food has long been devoured and you’ve gone through bottles of alcohol already. Seolhee suggested you play a game of Truth or Dare, so here you are.

“Truth!” Seolhee shrieked, which was very unlike her but she was too inebriated to care.

“Do you…” Yoori began, standing up. “...like someone who’s here right now?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “I didn’t say Truth.”

“Dare it is then!” Yoori declared, clearing her throat. She wobbled a little but regained her balance after shaking her head. She looked at you and then at Seungcheol then back at you again. “I dare you to kiss the person you like here.”

“We agreed no kissing dares,” you told her calmly so she sat and pouted, sulking.

“You’re no fun.”

You laughed at her and glanced at Seungcheol who was laughing too, probably amused by your drunken girlfriends. He’s mostly quietly observing, laughing here and there, and responding only when he’s talked to. During the game, he would only pick Truths and answer questions close-ended. Still, he didn’t seem bored, if anything, he looked like he was having lots of fun.

“Ah, crap. We’re out,” Seolhee said after pouring beer into her glass only to find that it was empty. “Ah. Y/n, I dare you to go buy more beer.”

You scowled. “Seriously? Haven’t you had too much?”

“Not nearly enough, love,” Seolhee replied, shaking her head and then laughing. You looked at Seungcheol, wondering how he was reacting to this. He just shrugged.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Go!” Yoori scolded, drunkenly shooing you away.

“Yeah! Go!” Seolhee giggled and the two of them chanted happily. “More beer! More beer! More beer!”

You rose to you feet to leave and Seungcheol grabbed your wrist. “Wait, are you going down all by yourself?”

“No, dumbass,” you scoffed, grabbing his hand and pulling him up. “You’re coming with me.”

The convenience store was a little far from the campsite, about a ten-minute walk down. You and Seungcheol were talking as you went, laughing in between jokes. The cold autumn air of late September was chilly, but you’re warmed by his jacket over you. Your cheeks are hot too and you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or the proximity between you and Seungcheol as you marched down the sidewalk. Your shadows were on the road, separate but they fuse with the slight tilt of your head in his direction. Even that was making you giddy. Damn. It really must have been the alcohol.

You were still looking at your shadows when he said, “Look at the sky!”

“Where?” you asked, looking up at the sky only to find nothing but darkness up there. “There’s nothing there.”

“I didn’t say there’s anything up there,” he giggled and it was such a cute sound to hear. Alcohol loosened him up a bit and it had him giggling and laughing at the littlest things.

You gave him a deadpan expression. “Wow. Funny.”

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again and looked at the sky. “Oh wow, I think it’s raining.”

As if on cue, the rain started pouring from the sky. You squealed when big raindrops fell on your head. Seungcheol took you by the wrist and you followed him running to a nearby waiting shed. Laughing, you both stumbled into the shed, patting down the rainwater on your clothes.

“Gosh, we should’ve just taken the car,” you blurted, peeking at the sky from under the roof.

“We had beer,” he replied, reaching to the top of your head to pat your hair back. “I don’t drink and drive.”

“But you’re not drunk.”

“I’m not irresponsible either,” he retorted, chortling at you. You were looking up at him, eyes gleaming.

“Wow, you’re very large.” Your comment came out of nowhere and even you was surprised you asked something like that.

Seungcheol flashed an affectionate scowl as he laughed. “Large?”

“Yeah, like you’re tall and your build is large,” you explained, shivering when the wind blew. “I knew you were bigger than me but I didn’t realize you were this big.”

Seungcheol chuckled. “Come here.” He tugged on your arm, pulling you in front of him so he could stand behind you. Then you felt his body pressing gently over you along with his pair of muscular arms wrapping around your waist.

Your heart skipped a beat before raging wildly in your chest. “Cheol?”

“Hmmh?” he inquired, placing his chin on the top of your head.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying your best not to let your voice crack with nervousness.

“Helping with the cold,” he replied, taking a deep breath and then exhaling. “Damn, I think I had one too many beers.”

Seungcheol kept breathing in and out, steadying his breath as he fought against his tipsiness. You tilted your head back, urging him to get his chin off of your head. He did so and then leaned his forehead on your shoulder instead.

“You shouldn’t have drunk if you can’t hold your liquor,” you chided softly, almost in a whisper since his ear was close to your mouth.

“No, I can hold my liquor just fine. I just–” he paused to exhale and then continued– “I just need a second.”

The rain was loud against the roof and the wind was cold but your heart was warm; it was swelling with emotions, all leaning towards falling in love with Seungcheol. Surely you can’t do that, right? You’ve done well making sure you don’t fall for him even more, but now you’re back at one.

“Seungcheol?” you called softly, lifting your shoulder slightly to prompt him. “Hey.”

“Hmmh?” he responded, gently pushing you away when you moved to get him off your shoulder. “Sorry.”

You turned to face him, staring up at his sleepy expression. He beamed, eyes almost closed. It must have been the alcohol, or it could simply be the overwhelming emotions filling your heart to the brim. Maybe it’s his gentle smile and his eyes that are as beautiful as himself. Whatever it was, it made you take a step towards him, hold onto his arms, and then tip-toe so you could press your lips on his.

Seungcheol froze on the spot, eyes widening in surprise after your sudden action sobered him up. But it was only for a second. He kissed you back, holding your cheek so he could pull your face closer. Your grasp on his arms tightened as you tried to steady your body in your tiptoes. Seungcheol must have noticed you struggling to stand because he wrapped his other arm around your waist, keeping you in place.

A few seconds later, he exhaled sharply into the kiss and you could feel the temperature rising. It made you pull back, breaking the kiss. Seungcheol looked taken aback when you did.

You stuttered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

“Are you okay?” he asked and you nodded in response. Seeing that, Seungcheol leaned to kiss you again. The warmth emanating from his body, plus the delirious feeling of his lips on yours made you close your eyes, immersing yourself in the kiss once more.

This time, you parted when you were both ready, forehead pressed together as you catch your breath. Seungcheol’s eyes were closed, and you were staring right at him as the situation slowly sunk in. You took a step back, forcing him to let go.

“Choi Seungcheol,” you called out. Seungcheol looked at you, curiosity evident on his face. “You should probably stay away.”

“What?”

“You shouldn’t stay so close if you don’t plan on staying at all.”

The face Seungcheol made upon hearing that shot an arrow straight into your heart. For a second there, you had expected him to finally put a label on your relationship. But that doesn’t seem to be the case.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he said, his voice apologetic and regretful, sending another surge of pain in your chest.

You were worried that you might cry, luckily, you didn’t. As you waited for the rain to stop, you both stood at the opposite ends of the waiting shed, not saying anything. The pitter-pattering of the rain kept you sane. When it finally stopped, you walked back up the hill, Seungcheol following closely behind. At the campsite, you found that Yoori and Seolhee have deserted the bonfire so you headed to your tent. Realizing that you were supposed to share it with Seungcheol, you mentally cursed yourself.

“Fuck it.”

You hid in your sleeping bag, facing the tent so you didn’t have to see Seungcheol or interact with him at all. But hours passed by, and you lay there with your eyes wide open, unable to sleep because of the thoughts floating in your head. Seungcheol didn’t enter the tent and several times you wondered where he was.

He’s probably in the car. He won’t possibly sleep outside, right? Right. And so you forced yourself to sleep, hoping the hours tick faster so you can go home and get over everything. When the first light peeked into the seams of the tent, you rose to your feet with a heavy body and an even heavier stride. The first thing you thought of was Seungcheol as if you hadn’t already been thinking about him all night. He was in his car, sleeping in the reclined driver’s seat. He must have been uncomfortable there.

Yoori and Seolhee are still asleep so you took it upon yourself to pack up your stuff. You packed the trash away and brought the dirty containers to the wash area so you could wash them. Halfway through, Seungcheol arrived.

“Do you need help with that?” he offered but instead of answering, you left the dishes half-done.

“Take care of it then,” you told him before walking away to take the trash to the recycling area. Yoori and Seolhee soon woke up and you all agreed to eat breakfast at the rest stop.

The silence between you and Seungcheol was the loudest in the car. You knew your friends noticed that, but they were nice enough not to pry. Instead, they minded their own business, flirting and being rowdy in the backseat among themselves. Several times they would prompt the two of you to let you in on what they were laughing about. Seungcheol would respond just to be polite, while you gave the most half-hearted reactions. When you arrived home, the girls thanked Sungcheol and hauled your stuff into the apartment.

As you were getting out of the car, Seungcheol tried talking to you. When you ignored him and went for the door, he grabbed your hand, squeezing it firmly.

“Please?”

You feel pathetic enough as it is, you don’t want to linger any longer. “There’s nothing to talk about, Cheol. It’s fine.”

“I just want to apologize, y/n. I overstepped.”

"It's okay. I should be the one apologizing. It was me who kissed you after all, so, I was the one who overstepped," you professed, not looking at him out of embarrassment.

"Don't be. I didn't mind it."

"Thanks," you muttered, getting ready to get out of the car. "This was fun. Thanks for everything."

Seungcheol’s face darkened with concern. "You mean the camping trip, right?"

"No, I meant all of this. Everything that we did, everything we shared, it had been fun and I would probably miss all of it but it shouldn't be that hard to forget," you replied, holding his gaze for the first time since that kiss. Seungcheol's mouth opened and then closed again. You felt even sadder, knowing he didn't want you the same way you wanted him. "Goodbye, Cheol."

"Wait, y/n," he called, so you stopped opening the car door. "Can't we be friends? We were good friends, right? I really enjoyed hanging out with you."

"I liked hanging out with you too but things will never be the same between us, Cheol and you know it." Seungcheol released your hand and you felt your heart shatter into tiny little pieces. Seeing how he's just letting you leave, you figured this was all your fault for falling for him when all he wanted from you was friendship.

He didn't even say goodbye when you left and as soon as you were inside the house, you broke down crying. Luckily, Yoori and Seolhee were there to comfort you, staying right next to you as you cried your heart out. It was ridiculous and you're telling yourself that you shouldn't even be sad about it. How can your heart break over something that was never about romance in the first place? To him, it may have not been about romance, but to you it was. He shouldn't have reeled you in like he did. You should have just ordered a takeout when you couldn't find a seat in that cafe. You shouldn't have joined him or eaten the donut. You shouldn't have met him at all.

"Imagine breaking up with someone you never dated? Couldn't be me," Seolhee jeered, getting a glare from Yoori.

"Hey, she's heartbroken enough as it is. Don't rub salt in the wound."

Seolhee just scoffed. "What did I tell her? I told her to make sure they were on the same page before she fell for his charm and all! Look at the mess he left her in!"

Yoori sighed, still holding you in her embrace. "To be fair, he did tell her he hasn't moved on from his ex and they're trying to fix it. So romance was obviously out of the table for him right now."

“Then why did he keep hanging out with her? He may have been clear about where his heart was but you and I, including him, know their coffee runs and all that meeting up are intimate enough to be called dates!"

"Seolhee, sweetheart, you can't hold him hostage for something he can't control. Yes, he's accountable for y/n's heartbreak. Yes, he got her hooked with his charming personality. And yes he was a jerk for still hanging out with another girl when he was trying to get back with his ex. But nowhere in the equation did he explicitly mention the possibility of dating y/n. He was nice and apparently, he liked talking to y/n. Our girl fell in love, he had no control over that."

"We kissed," you croaked, sniffling into the blanket.

"You what?" Seolhee asked, confused.

"Well, I kissed him, actually."

"And he kissed you back?" Seolhee interrogated so you nodded.

Yoori let go of you and stood with her arms over her chest. "I beg your fucking pardon?"

"Babe," Seolhee blurted, holding Yoori by the arm. "Calm down."

"I’m calm. But he… He's dead," Yoori attempted to go to the door but Seolhee managed to stop her.

Seungcheol sat on the table opposite Mina, absent-mindedly slicing his steak. His mind was elsewhere entirely, while Mina was rambling about her trip abroad. His lack of attention was unusual, even for himself, especially since he had been looking forward to this dinner ever since Mina's last concert. But why is he thinking about an entirely different girl from Mina, in an entirely different setting from this fancy hotel restaurant?

"Oppa," Mina prompted, taking notice of the steak that has now been reduced to tiny, uneven little pieces. Even the vegetables have been sliced the same way. "Are you alright? You seem spaced out."

Seungcheol heaved a deep sigh upon seeing the state of his food. "Yes, I'm fine. Just not hungry."

Mina pouted cutely. "You should have ordered a salad or something."

"You're right, I should have," Seungcheol grinned.

"You weren't listening to the waiter so I ordered your usual." Mina looked worried. "Are you sure you're okay? We could meet up some other time, you know."

"I am, Mina. I'm sorry if I'm not fun to be with right now."

Mina just nodded and continued eating. "So, as I was saying," she began, falling back into a long monologue about her latest trip abroad.

Seungcheol watched her speak, recognizing the delight in her voice and the way her cheeks lifted whenever she smiled, as well as the slight annoyance on her face when her story included something bad that happened there. He watched the woman he knew so well, trying to find the reason he was sitting here in the first place. Seungcheol knew it was love. He had loved Mina for so long and so much that he couldn't even look at other girls. Even when she broke up with him, he couldn't bring himself to move on and find someone else, someone better, someone who wouldn't do to him what Mina did. He waited for her to come back because she was all he wanted, the one he loved most. It was pathetic, but he didn't care. He told himself he could wait until she was ready, and he did just that, not listening to any of his friends or his self-respect. He loved Mira, and only Mira.

But why does he keep picturing you in your usual spot at The Coffeehouse, reading your books on a small tablet? Why does he keep imagining you rolling your eyes at his lame jokes and making him laugh with your witty remarks? Why does he still clearly remember how it felt kissing you in that waiting shed, with the sound of the rain draining the noises of his pounding heartbeat?

"Oppa," Mina prompted again, this time she looked annoyed.

"Yeah?"

"Are you even listening?"

"Yeah, no. I'm sorry. What was that?"

Mina huffed. "Nevermind. I'll tell you when your mind stops flying out to space."

Seungcheol was holding Mina's hand as they walked out of the restaurant, with her giggling about the good food and him nodding along. That's how it should be, the two of them hand-in-hand and together. That should make him happy because that was what he wanted. Still, he was struggling to find contentment. When he got home that night, he had to grab a can of beer in an attempt to help him fall asleep. His mind is still filled with thoughts of you, especially the part when you last saw each other.

He loves Mina, he knows that. But he felt like crap for hurting you. Seungcheol knows he's a jerk, alright. You were right, he shouldn't have stayed that long if he wasn't planning on staying at all. But he saw you as a friend, a good friend he can talk to comfortably without the pressure of being perfect. You made him laugh easily, made him drop his guard down without warning, and crept into his heart like it was only natural to do so. He knew this could happen at one point but after you found out he'd been trying to get back with Mina, you drew the line and told him you could be good friends without any expectations. He had been blind to see that you've already gone past being friends. Now he's losing his mind over you, replaying the kiss in his head and reliving the day he let go of your hand to never see you again. He's thinking about you but he can't erase Mina for someone he recently just met, regardless of how wonderful it was.

"Ah, fuck," he muttered, massaging the bridge of his nose in an attempt to alleviate his headache.

Seungcheol kept seeing Mina after that, and he was under the impression that they were back together already. She hung out with his mother a lot and discussions about marriage were being brought up but he was unenthusiastic about it all. He was too busy trying to get you out of his head, which he kept failing miserably because the effort only made him think about you more.

"What are you thinking about?" Mina asked, tracing lines on his chest.

"A lot of things."

"Can you stop thinking about them for now?"

"I don't know. I'm trying."

Mina propped herself up on her arms, smiling as she straddled Seungcheol again. "I could help," she grinned, grinding on his crotch.

"Mina, we literally just finished—" Seungcheol was cut off when Mina leaned to kiss his lips.

Right. This is what he wanted, to have Mina back in his arms again. This should feel right. Seungcheol decided to ignore the alarms ringing in his head as well as the weird feeling in his gut that he shouldn't be here at all.

"Mr. Landlord!" Mingyu greeted when Seungcheol walked into the cafe. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"I got busy," Seungcheol replied, smiling at the younger man behind the counter. "Everything good here?"

"Perfect," Mingyu smiled, turning to make Seungcheol's usual drink order. "Are you looking for y/n?"

Seungcheol realized he had been looking around the cafe and cleared his throat to shake off the shame of getting caught. "Has she been here at all?"

"Oh, she's here all the time."

"All the time?"

"Yes. She's here almost every day. I talked to her once and she said she's working on the final editing for her thesis."

Seungcheol nodded. "I suppose she is."

Mingyu glanced at the door when it opened. "There they are."

Seungcheol head has never spun that quickly; it hurt his neck a little. And seeing you walking inside the cafe with Jinwoo from one of your classes made him scowl.

"Oh," you blurted, stopping in your tracks as soon as you saw Seungcheol by the counter.

Seungcheol gave you a timid smile before Mingyu tapped on his shoulder to give him his order. "Right. Thanks."

He turned to you, smiling and then sighing. "Good to see you."

You just responded with a slight bow of your head and Seungcheol went on to find a vacant seat. He sank into the chair, taking his book out and covering his face as he scolded himself for the stupid line. You were standing right there, he could have asked to talk to you properly.

"'Good to see you'? Unbelievable," he muttered, shaking his head and putting his book back down. He would soon regret it because he could see you and the guy you were with laughing together from the window table, far from where he was. He couldn't help admiring your smile, realizing just how much he missed it. But his face darkened at the sight of the guy's arm resting on the back of your chair.

"Don't punch someone, Mr. Landlord."

Seungcheol jolted when he heard Mingyu's voice in his ear. The latter just laughed heartily, placing a plate with a donut in it right in front of Seungcheol.

"It's on the house. The owner saw you come in. She's probably hoping for a discount on the rent."

"Tell her thanks and that it's not gonna happen," Seungcheol jeered and Mingyu raised a hand on his forehead as a salute.

"Will do," he chimed, tucking the tray under his arm. "Oh, by the way, I think that guy likes y/n."

"How do you know that?"

Mingyu scoffed. "Everyone likes y/n. She's popular at school. They even have a title for her."

"What's the title?"

"Million Dollar Smile. She's the university sweetheart. I have friends from the school who are head over heels for her."

Seungcheol smiled absent-mindedly, repeating your title in his head. It suits you because you have a radiant smile that he now can't get out of his mind.

"The other day, he gave her flowers," Mingyu said, souring Seungcheol's mood. He saw the frown on Seungcheol's face and thought he didn't believe him. "It's true. I was here when he did it. I don't think y/n likes him though. She left the flowers on the table."

"Then why are they still together?"

Mingyu shrugged. "No clue."

Seungcheol sighed and hit Mingyu's abdomen. "Are you here to gossip? Don't you have work to do?"

"I just thought you'd like to hear updates about her," he complained, massaging the part where Seungcheol hit him. "Why are you so mad?"

Mingyu marched back to his post and Seungcheol went back to his book, trying to ignore your presence and failing because he ended up just stealing more glances. You didn't linger for long though, leaving the cafe with your friend after you were done with your coffee. Seungcheol could only get peace of mind then. Or so he thought. You came back alone and sat on the chair opposite of his.

"What's your deal?" you asked, looking annoyed.

"What do you mean?" Seungcheol asked back, trying to appear calm despite being surprised by your sudden appearance.

"You wanna talk to me, say it. Stop acting like a stalker."

"A stalker? I wasn't acting like a stalker," he denied, chuckling. "You were sitting within my line of sight. I can't be blamed for that. And I was here first. You have no case."

"Are being a lawyer on me right now?"

"No,” he replied briskly. “Yes, maybe."

You huffed, leaning on the backrest of the chair and crossing your arms over your chest. "Is everything alright with you?"

"Yes. Everything's fine," Seungcheol replied, smiling at your warmer attitude.

"You look…” you paused, shrugged, and added, “I don't know, different?"

"Different how?"

You shrugged. "You look like you haven't slept properly. You got thinner too and a little paler than usual. Were you sick?"

"Did it always feel this good to be cared about?" Seungcheol blurted out before he could think twice about it. He saw your brows twitching and felt nervous about what you were going to say next but you just looked away. "Don't mind me. What about you? How are you these days?"

You huffed. "If you're so curious then you should have texted me."

"You told me to leave you alone."

You glared at him. "No, I didn't."

"Pretty sure you did," Seungcheol smiled. "You just used different terms."

"And you were dissecting my words."

"Nothing much to dissect when it was staring me right in the face."

You huffed impatiently, standing up from your seat. "I didn't come here to get smart with you, so goodbye."

Seungcheol grabbed your hand. "Coffee? Won't you at least have a cup?"

"I just had one."

"Yeah, I saw that. Were you working on a project again with that guy? Jinwoo, was it?"

"Why do you care? I never asked you if you're back together with Mina."

Seungcheol's hand on your wrist twitched. You were right to ask that. Why does he even care? He has Mina. He shouldn't be acting like this anymore.

"Don't stop coming here just because I come here, Cheol. This was your favorite spot. I'm graduating anyway so I'm pretty sure I’ll stop being around much."

"No. I—" Seungcheol sighed, letting go of your hand. "Okay. It was nice seeing you again."

You gave him a small smile before walking away. Seungcheol sat there for the next hour, staring into nothing with muddled thoughts and a weird aching in his heart. He kept telling himself that he shouldn't have let your hand go for the third time around. But how stupid was he to think that?

It was only when his phone rang that he stood up and left. Mina called and asked to meet him. He drove down to a restaurant, wondering why Mina was inviting him out to another dinner. It was with their common friends this time and she was gushing about some really good news.

When he got there, Seungcheol was confused to see his girlfriend sitting next to a guy, smiling happily with her hands wrapped around his arms. She spotted Seungcheol and waved happily.

"Oppa! You made it!"

You recognized the guy as the pianist who always accompanied Mina on stage. He was smiling at him too with the same glow of happiness as Mina.

"Come join us! Everyone's here," Mina said, running up to Seungcheol to guide him to a vacant seat. But he didn't budge. "What's wrong?"

"What's this, Mina?" Sungcheol asked, sighing in frustration.

"My friends. They wanted to meet you."

Seungcheol sighed again, grabbing her by the wrist and walking out of the private restaurant. He stopped in a quiet hallway, looking at Mina with conviction.

"Are we doing this again, Mina?"

"What is?"

"Who was that guy?" he spat and Mina laughed incredulously.

"That's Hyungjae. My pianist."

"Your pianist?"

Mina shrugged. "We're kind of seeing each other but it's not serious."

"Mina you were with me just a few days ago. You were in my bed!"

"I know! And I loved that," she smiled, placing her hands on Seungcheol's chest. "I love you. You don't have to worry about Hyungjae. He's just temporary."

"Are you seriously doing this again? Am I supposed to turn a blind eye while you go sleep around with just anyone? And you asked me to come here so you could introduce me to your friends? What do you take me for, Mina?" Seungcheol grunted, swatting her hands away. "Do you see how messed up this is?"

"Oppa!"

"Let's stop this."

Mina’s face contorted with annoyance. "What do you mean? You can't say that!"

"Why not?”

She shook her head. “You can’t break up with me! Who do you think you are?”

Just like that, he’s had enough. Seungcheol walked away, completely ignoring Mina's nonstop calling. He found his car and drove a long way without an actual destination. But when he saw the Coffeehouse, he stopped right in front of it, sighing as he watched it from the side of the road. He wasn't expecting to see you there at all, smiling while talking to someone on the phone. He couldn't hear you but he was smiling along, content with the sight of your bright face.

Seungcheol was a fool. All this time, he had been blindly going in the wrong direction. He didn't want Mina because he still loved her, he wanted Mina because she was familiar. He had been chasing the empty shell of the love he used to have. He had been focusing too much on what he lost that he failed to acknowledge what he found. You. He found something really beautiful in you. He was realizing just now that he was in love with you after all. You were so graceful and pretty, like a breath of fresh air. He was enamored by you, not because you were alluring or sexy, but because you were smart and spoke kindly even when you were speaking carelessly. You were beautiful to look at, and even more breathtaking to listen to. Seungcheol was an idiot. He knows that now. He knows he would be an even bigger idiot if he let go of something as beautiful as this. But after hurting you, even though he never meant to, Seungcheol knew he couldn't just walk back into your life like he was welcome to do so anytime.

Your phone call ended and you chucked your device back in your bag. As you were turning to leave, Seungcheol panicked. Getting out of his car, he called out your name as loud as he could.

“What the–” you blurted, surprised to hear someone shouting your name. When you spotted Seungcheol walking towards you, you scowled. “Choi Seungcheol?”

“Hi,” he sputtered. He held your hand as soon as you were within his reach. “Can we talk?”

“Now? I’m kind of in the middle of something–”

“It won’t take long, I swear. I just need to tell you something.”

You glanced inside the cafe and then at Seungcheol. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry,” he confessed, almost out of breath. “I’m so sorry. Can we do this again? Let’s try again, can we?”

“Cheol, what do you mean? Where’s Mina? What happened?”

“She’s gone, y/n. It didn’t work.”

You retracted your hand from his hold, glaring at him as you stepped back. “Are you serious? Did you come here because it didn’t work out with Mina?”

“What? No!” he denied strongly, reaching for your hand again but you backed away.

“I don’t think we should be talking right now, Cheol,” you told him, genuinely concerned. “You don’t seem to be in the right headspace. You’re not even acting like yourself.”

You were right. He was rash and impulsive. This was unlike him at all. “I’m sorry.”

You were about to speak when a group of people walked out of the cafe laughing and chattering. Seungcheol recognized his uncle among the students.

“There you are, y/n. We’ve been waiting for you inside. What took you so long?” the Professor asked. Then he noticed Seungcheol there so his face glowed. “Seungcheol! I didn’t expect to run into you here!”

“Uncle,” he said meekly, eyeing you curiously. “I was just passing by.”

The elder man laughingly walked up to Seungcheol, giving him a pat on the shoulder before proudly saying, “This is Attorney Choi Seungcheol. He’s an alumna of our university. My dear nephew.”

A chorus of ‘Nice to meet you’s was heard from the group, to which Seungcheol replied with, “Good to meet you too.”

“How do you know y/n?” the professor asked Seungcheol who seemed to hesitate.

“He’s an acquaintance, Prof,” you replied curtly.

The elder nodded. “Very well then. You should join us for dinner. My students just passed an important exam so I’m treating them to dinner.”

You panicked. “I think Mr. Choi is busy–”

“I’d love to, uncle!” he chimed, grinning. “I brought my car. The rest of them can carpool with me.”

“Good. Good. Let’s go.”

The group proceeded with excited chatter while you lagged behind. Seungcheol hesitated to speak to you and as he was about to try, you shook your head to dissuade him.

At this point, Seungcheol is improvising–something he’s never done in his life before. He’s hoping that it’s worth it.

[To be continued in Part 2]

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sweet-s0rr0w · 2 months

Text

Happy Valentine's Day to you all! To celebrate, I'm back with another collaborative Drarry reclist, featuring a new lovely bunch of Drarry writers, artists, reccers, and fans!

Once again, the question was: ‘what one or two fics, or scenes, or quotes, represent peak Drarry romance to you?’ and (in what is rapidly becoming a nightmare for me), no duplicates from previous years were allowed. Thank you so much to everyone who took part, I hope you enjoy the results!

You can find part 1 (2022) here, and part 2 (2023) here!

This year's list features answers from: apricitydays-lazynights, arminaa8, drarrymyheart, drarryspecificrecs, hoko-onchi-writes, jtimu, littlewinnow, mallstars, myrtlefics, oflights, peachydreamxx, pl0tty, rainstormradish, romaine2424, squintclover, starquestingfordrarry, thecouchsofa, thedrarrylibrarian, and themiddleofwonderland!

***

@apricitydays-lazynights

💗who will receive you in love's offices by jtimu (E, 30k)

It was a wonder, Draco thought, watching Potter tip back the last remnants of his drink, that the man had survived to adulthood. Not because of the war, or the constant attempts on his life, or surviving two separate killing curses, despite his insistence that he had at some point died, but because there was not a single ounce of self-preservation in his entire body. There couldn’t be. …He glanced over at the potion on the table, and considered, for a fraction of a moment, getting up and pouring those same drops of veritaserum into his own glass. He looked away just as fast, back at Potter, grinning in his chair like they were queuing up for a Quidditch game and not at all like he had just handed his childhood nemesis the keys to his thoughts. “All right,” he said, “first of all. What the ever loving fuck is wrong with you?

@arminaa8

💗My Beautiful Boy by alexmeg (unrated, 69k, sequel to Alucinatio)

"You don't even like boys."

"I didn't know I did. But you," Harry trails off, laughs with his gaze trying to meet the grey of Draco's eyes, a little tremulous with nerves and fear and the way his breath sticks high in his throat like an ache. Draco does look at him, then. "God, you."

💗Seagulls Cause Storms, or the Essence of Chaos by @writandromance (M, 312k)

The stars above them were bright white. It made him think again of the black universe between the constellations, the way he thought people like him held the space for people like Harry to burn hot.

@drarrymyheart

💗The Rewards of Being Loved by @lou-isfake (E, 161k, sequel to The Ordeal of Being Known)

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to make you stop thinking so hard,” Harry replied, grinning mischievously. He placed Draco’s hand on his bare waist, his own hand on Draco’s shoulder. Draco’s lips twitched in a hesitant grin.

“This song is too fast for you to dance to.”

“Only if I’m thinking about it,” Harry retorted, stepping in close. “Is my kitchen too difficult for you to dance in, your highness?”

“Don’t underestimate me, Potter,” Draco murmured, his grin widening as he pulled Harry flush against him, taking his hand. Harry chuckled, waiting for him to lead.”

💗I Do Not Love You by @writandromance (M, 228k)

“The thing is,” Harry said, voice low like all they’d said was public knowledge and this was the secret. “If you’re interested in this, if we pursue this, I’ll be a goner.”

“A goner?” he echoed.

Harry took a lung-filling breath. “Yeah, Draco,” he sighed. “That’ll be it for me. Tony… well, Tony I ended up happy to see go. Miles, I—that was hard in the moment but I was fine. But you… we’re so connected, our lives are so connected, our friends. I don’t want to fuck around, it would be serious, to me. You’re serious to me.”

@drarryspecificrecs

(cause 'Hogwarts 8th year' & 'creature' are among my fave tropes and I really really adore fics where Draco is in trouble but not weak & Harry is already smitten with him)

💗Draco Malfoy, It's Your Lucky Day by @faith2wood (E, 37k)

💗The Arc of the Pendulum by brummell (E, 30k)

@hoko-onchi-writes

💗Half Sick of Shadows by StarQuesting (E, 40k)

(I have a hard time containing myself about dragon tamer Draco, and everyone knows it. I’m about as subtle as a brick when something pings a sweet spot in my brain. But this fic is so much more than a hot, aloof, sex king dragon tamer Draco who has weaver Harry weak in the knees. It is also so very bright and clear in my mind; the visuals are so affecting, just like the creations that Harry weaves. Favorite scene: Harry casually chatting with dragons. 12/10 would be unhinged again.)

💗A pulled down shade by fast_brother (M, 43k)

(I’m not a big crier over fics. Maybe three or four have made me cry this year. This one made me lose it. I think the thing that stands out to me is the visceral capture of emotion. You can feel Draco’s broken heart, and then you can feel Harry’s. I could probably get worked up about it right now. Favorite scene: Draco crying over the broken tea cup. I literally can’t function when I think about it. 12/10 would cry again.)

💗The Brightest Constellations of Our Souls by thecouchsofa (E, 256k)

(I might be cheating since I’m still savoring The Brightest Constellation of Our Souls but I’m including it because it is Peak Drarry Romance. TheCouchSofa always has this intensely brilliant characterization. Harry is heartbreakingly oblivious. Draco is prickly and about as subtle as a brick over pining for Harry. This also features depression!Harry, which has gotta be one of my favorite Harrys. She writes depressed Harry with such delicacy, handling the ins and outs of mental illness and trauma with care, but also making it fucking funny. Favorite scene so far: Harry very casually slipping into conversation that he’s bisexual after he’s been traveling with Draco for an absurd amount of time without mentioning it. And Draco’s ensuing reaction. 12/10 will continue swooning.)

@jtimu

💗Designate / your love as fate by @elskanellis (E, 17k)

💗Lover, Where Do You Live? by @dodgerkedavra (E, 39k)

💗Seven Days in June by @fourth-rose (E, 47k)

@littlewinnow

💗1000 Kisses: #27 First Thing in the Morning, Just After Moving in Together by @deliciouslystickypersona (E, 3k)

Draco trails his fingertips over the flat plane of Harry’s belly, tracing the line of hair up to where it widens over his pectorals. He nuzzles his nose into the curve of Harry’s shoulder, inhaling the sweet, musky, sleepy scent of his skin.

💗Little Love by @ladderofyears (M, 34k)

Harry – who still held Draco’s hand – was gazing at the baby, spellbound by the sight. His whole appearance couldn’t have been prouder, or more loving, had he been Snidget’s natural father. When Harry caught Draco looking at him, he beamed, unashamed of his response.

@mallstars

💗Elaborate, Correct, and Assiduously Observed by peu_a_peu (T, 4k)

Some things were still the same, he thought. Draco was the perfect height for Harry to put his head on his shoulder and rest. That had been secretly true all along, and they’d only had to figure it out.

💗Us, In Lieu by Tepre (E, 30k)

“I . . .” The words jumble in his mouth. His hair is still mostly wet in his neck. He should’ve shaved. He should’ve cleaned his glasses. He should’ve— “I do want you.” And, “Enough,” he adds, then decides no , decides, “Not just enough. More than. More than that.” He licks his lips. “So much more than that.”

💗The Pure and Simple Truth by @letteredlettered (E, 14k)

Malfoy’s eyelashes were visible just above his cheeks, golden and some might have said they should have been darker, but Harry thought that they were perfect. The curve of Malfoy’s jaw, the slant of Malfoy’s throat, that was perfect, too. Malfoy looked up, licked his lips. “I thought you weren’t interested,” he said.

💗The Isle of Ogygia by @citrusses (E, 13k)

The days pass slower, after Potter leaves. Draco tries to fish again, and manages to actually levitate a fish out of the water, but then he Stuns it and it sinks back beneath the waves like a rock, and he doesn’t have any luck retrieving it again. Every day he walks to the top of the lighthouse, casts the right spells, and walks back down. He looks around his room and thinks about where Potter sat.

@myrtlefics

💗Going Postal by dustmouth (125 page comic)

(I am a complete and utter sucker for Dustmouth’s comics and the correspondence and longing and softness of this one make me really happy)

@oflights

💗Yours is the Earth (Hold On, Hold On) by chickenlivesinpumpkin (E, 127k)

(Chapter 11: it's one of my fave proposals in any fic ever/a beautiful love confession/a lovely romantic moment that fits with how the rest of the fic builds up their relationship and all the poor communication and ways they've hurt each other and love each other)

@peachydreamxx

💗to be a bit of warmth (for you) by @softlystarstruck (M, 9k)

Draco stirs in Harry’s arms, mumbling something soft and incoherent, and Harry whispers a wandless spell to completely dim the room lights. If Draco is just seeking comfort, so what? Harry has more than enough to give– it may be the only thing he has left to give– and Draco grounds him, too. Whatever happened on the other side of a war they both went through no longer matters. They’re here, now, and Draco is cold.So Harry will keep him warm.

@pl0tty

💗Tandem by fast_brother (M, 93k)

The handle clicked and the door cracked open, allowing the sound of rain to come into the car.

“I… thanks,” Harry said. His heart was beating faster. His hands were sweaty.

Draco didn’t back away completely, just enough to be able to look Harry in the eyes.

“You have to stop that, Harry. Really," he said gravely, as if speaking about a very serious issue.

“Stop what?” Harry asked stupidly, still holding his breath.

“You have to stop looking at me like that.”

Harry’s heart traveled all the way up to his throat.

“I– I can’t,” he blurted out, feeling himself flush with the enormity of what he’d just said.

Draco let out a shocked chortle. He looked away at the street covered in rain, his left hand still resting on Harry’s chair. When he turned back towards Harry, he wasn’t laughing anymore.

He leaned in and kissed Harry on the lips.

💗Matters of the heart by nerakrose (G, 5k)

Today’s breakfast: eggs, toast, tea. I’ve left the sink a mess this week but I’ll do the dishes later. In a way taking these moments to write to you every morning feels like a little quiet refuge or a secret space that nobody else knows about but you. It feels safe here. I miss you. These days I’m missing you more than I’ve ever missed you before and I can’t explain it. Have I reached a breaking point? I don’t know.

Yours,

Harry

💗More Than That by joosetta (E, 11k)

“He was going to kill you,” Potter said, “He said he was going to kill you.”

“He was never going to kill me,” Draco mumbled, “He was up against you for Merlin’s sake. He tried to play quick-curse with Harry fucking Potter.”

Potter was silent for a bit at that, raising a hand up and stroking the back of Draco's head.

“He thought I would help him,” Potter said finally. Draco felt the strangest thing, like a spasm in his face, that left his eyes hot, and his lips shaking. He had to gather himself together again before he could reply.

“Well, he’s never had me suck his cock, so there was no way he could know,” Draco said, instead of he didn’t realise that you loved me. Potter got it anyway, because he laughed, just a little bit. He drew back, and his face was the most frightening and beautiful thing Draco had ever seen.

“You always talk like you give me blow jobs all the time,” he said. “You almost never give me blow jobs, Draco.”

💗Sparks from the Fox’s Tail by khalulu (T, 17k)

And then it was just natural to turn in his arms so they were face to face. Eye to eye, lip to lip, mouth to mouth. Natural to fall into bed together, hands and mouths moving over warm skin, stroking and kissing til they were breathless.

Harry broke off. “Should we think this through?”

“No,” said Draco. “Why did you pull away in the shower?”

“You were so weak then, I didn’t want to take advantage.”

“I was throwing myself at you with what little strength I had. Next time, catch me.”

“I’ve got you,” Harry said, winding himself around Draco. “I’ve got you.”

@rainstormradish

💗Where I see things right by InnerLilith (E, 15k)

(just... absolutely gorgeous handling of a sensitive subject, and I love how the preparation and thoughtfulness is such a big part of the romance. I don't bookmark InnerLilith's fics so much as intermittently go and reread half their back catalogue again. I've loved everything I've read from them.)

💗Help! I'm a Hopeless Romantic by peachydreamxx (M, 15k)

(we watch Harry fall in love with Draco and come to terms with lots of aspects of his life. The little Google searches are just so sweet and tender and I loved, loved loved it. And the ending is so perfect.)

@romaine2424

💗keep driving by @babooshkart (art)

(The romance portrayed in Keep Driving is palpable. Draco is so cool, but from every look, you can see the adoration she has for Harry. And Harry thrives off of the touches between them but also has a confident sense of her own worth. I will never tire of this calming, soft piece depicting a happy, confident, and joyful Drarry. The world is theirs to explore. They'll keep driving.)

💗Never Mind the Bollocks by @the-sinking-ship (E, 119k)

(Never Mind the Bollocks is a new fic from Erised 2023. I loved every moment of it, and Harry having so much fun and feeling like he belonged was everything. However, his drive to right and save all was still there. Chapter 18 brought it all together. I won't say how as the fic is so new, but, for me, it was so romantic with BAMF Harry showing up and Draco trying to be mad. Complete chef's kiss.)

@squintclover

💗 A Secondary Education by Thunderbird587 (E, 235k)

(I remember so vividly the falling in love and the moment when it changed for both of them.)

@starquestingfordrarry

💗The Potter Malfoy bathroom war of 2007 by @andithiel (E, 9k)

(it is peak bathing-comfort)

@thecouchsofa

💗Cut From the Sky by mallstars (E, 150k)

(“Rainy romance’ describes this perfectly. I love how Harry grows to love Draco and never stops going after him once he realises that’s what he wants. This kind of love necessitates an endless amount of patience, but I can’t think of anything more romantic than that – someone coming back time and time again and showing you more grace than you would ever show yourself.)

💗Everything is Relative to You by @thehoneybeet (E, 43k)

(Harry and Draco being each other’s Great Loves in every life going back hundreds of years? I am feral. I cannot be contained. A demonstration of them being perfect for each other in every timeline, through good and bad. This is peak romance at its best.)

@thedrarrylibrarian

💗O Come, All Ye Faithful by @toomuchplor (E, 20k)

(Told through jumps between the past and the present, I adore the way toomuchplor depicts the everyday romance of an established relationship. Too often romance is delegated to big displays of affection, when I think much of romance is in the mundane, routine moments. Listening to your partner share about their day is romantic. Making routine breakfast and coffee is romantic. The intimacy of having an ongoing inside joke about a cat name is unbearably romantic to me. These are the small, everyday moments that the foundations of grand romances are built upon, and this fic was a love note to those moments.)

@themiddleofwonderland (amazuppai)

💗Heal Thyself by astolat (T, 16k)

(it's a classic H/D fic that preserves Draco's prickly personality while still showing him reforming in a very realistic way. It's a slow-burn—Harry isn't really in the first half at all, and when he does show up he's still very suspicious of Draco—but as Draco shows his (new) true colors, Harry can't help that his suspicions turn to curiosity (one of my favorite tropes with reformed Draco fics) especially with the somewhat forced proximity they find themselves in that slowly turns into voluntary and frequent proximity. To me, maybe because of the slow burn, it seems like a very realistic depiction of how Draco could reform himself and how Harry can turn his suspicions into curiosity and eventually more to form a healthy relationship together.)

#drarry #ss recs #my annual romance reclist #always forget how long this takes :D #worth it though #thank you so much to everyone who took part

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miraclewoozi · 10 months

Text

ODE TO A CONVERSATION (STUCK IN YOUR THROAT) - c.sc

Everything with Seungcheol has always been easy. Easier than with anyone else, anyway. (and it hits me — i don’t want anybody else touching you like i do, like i do, like me. is it okay? that i don’t want anybody else touching you like i do.)

pairing; choi seungcheol x fem!reader. genre; smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) with a little bit of plot. friends-ish to lovers to (healthy) exes to fwb to -- warnings; writing early parts of this felt low-key pretentious but it was kinda on purpose because i was trying something stylistic and outside my normal?? so??? but on a real: swearing. alcohol consumption (they aren’t drunk at the time of having sex). reader is written to be wearing makeup. it's kinda just filth. proof read but all the words just melted together eventually (if i missed a typo, no i didn't <3) smut warnings under the cut! w/c; 6k. a/n; del water gap’s ode to a conversation stuck in your throat was my most listened to song last year. i now can’t listen to it without thinking about s.coups (i also just point blank can't stop thinking about s.coups) -- enjoy x

smut warnings: big! dick! seungcheol!, making out, fingering, oral (f rec), unprotected p-in-v sex (make good choices), lil bit of edging if u squint, overstimulation if u tilt ur head like 82º to the left, manhandling, soft-ish dom!cheol, lotta praise, use of pet names (babe, baby good girl, my girl, sweetheart), kinda possessive!cheol, jealous!cheol, biting and marking (hickeys, digging nails in), light light light light light crying/dacryphilia (not really, like there are Some tears in eyes but just to be safe ig)

Everything with Seungcheol has always been easy.

Easier than with anyone else, anyway.

You’d known him in passing for a long time before anything happened. A friend of a friend — someone you always smiled at and chatted with at social events, because he was easy to smile at, and so very easy to chat to. You can’t even remember which birthday or New Year’s party or Halloween bash or Saturday night jamboree was the first: they’ve since all just dissolved into one pleasantly foggy memory, and every time you saw him thereafter he made you feel so comfortable, so at home that it felt like the hundredth.

And it continued that way for a few years. Pleasantries exchanged in friends' kitchens, conversations across beer-garden tables. Catching up on each other's lives in a hallway outside the bathroom for handfuls of minutes at a time before one of you inevitably got tugged away by the friend you were waiting for. You were comfortable with him, around him: he just had that kind of energy. So on a big group night out one evening, when you found yourself feeling a little uncomfortable being flirted with by someone you had never met, you instinctively flashed Seungcheol a look from across the bar. He came straight over and immediately to your rescue; with him slipping all too naturally into the fake role of your unimpressed significant other, you realised that it was easy to be whisked away under his arm, easy to let him buy you your next drink, easy to let him kiss you breathless just to really drive the pretend point home.

Staring up at him after, feeling his drink-chilled hands cupping your cheeks, watching his gaze flicker between your lips and your eyes, you realised that igniting a spark had never felt so…

And it was easy to kiss him again later that night under the influence of a little too much wine and blanketed by a couple of lowered inhibitions. It was easy to giggle into the crook of his neck as he leaned against a stone wall, trailing his fingers up and down your arms, rambling about how he wanted to kiss you again and again and again and forever, maybe, because he thought your smile was beautiful and your lips were so soft and you tasted like cherries, and he liked cherries, and if you could kiss him every day he’d never have a reason to be unhappy ever again. It was so fucking easy to fumble in your purse for your phone, to let him put in his number, and when he asked you if he could take you out for dinner, when he messily typed a text message out begging the same question and sent it to you (‘so we both remember, tomorrow’), it was so, so easy to say yes.

Then, the first date? It was beyond easy. You talked and talked and laughed and laughed, each of you having a few cocktails with your food, never running short of conversation, never not finding little ways to touch each other both under and over the table. Arranging the second, and then the third, and inviting him up for a coffee after date number five was easy, and falling into bed with him was easy. Holding him close, your sweat-slicked bodies moving as one entity in the dark: it was easy, and the pillow-talk after about what this growing thing between you was, came so damn…

So you introduced him to your parents, and your other friends, and in turn he did the same with you. Two and a half years breezed by, then, and even the hard parts… Even the arguing and time spent away from one-another, whether he was sleeping out on your couch following an emotionally charged spat or trips taken as part of his job demanded he spend weeks at a time without you. The hard parts? By comparison to everyone before him, they were easy. Anniversaries and birthdays and Valentine’s days: he spoiled you, and you doted on him, and being together was just so–…

Even the day you decided to end your romantic pursuit, while impassioned, wasn’t hard. In part, maybe it was because it was a long time coming: you still loved each other deeply but your lives were so chaotic and different, and it wasn’t fair to keep waiting around for each other when it just clearly wasn’t your time. And in part, because he was so calm in how he held your hand tightly in his (even when he dried your tears), how he kissed your forehead, in how he told you that you deserved more than the life he could give you. And at the end of it all, when he promised to always be there for you, naturally you promised the same back.

Keeping that promise? Well. It was easy.

So what if it took a few weeks for things to feel sort of normal? If you had to remember how to greet him without offering your lips for a kiss or your arms for a hug? If you had to get used to sleeping alone, and waking up alone, all over again? The thing that mattered was that he was still in your life, and you were still in his: your relationship wasn’t broken, it was just different, and once the little transition period was over, once you were both used to your new normal… Being ‘just friends’ was kind of easy.

(Kind of, being the operative phrase.)

Six months post split, you mentioned to him in passing that you were going on a date the following day. As soon as you realised what you’d said, you regretted bringing it up, but without missing a beat Seungcheol lowered his drink and raised an eyebrow at you, excitedly asking you to tell him everything. The person’s name, what they were like, how you met them, where you were going. He didn’t feel like your ex-boyfriend, then and there: he felt like a best friend. So you told him every detail, and he listened intently, following up by requesting you text him when you got to the date and again when you got home so he knew you were safe. Of course, you said that you would. First, because it was sensible. Second, his requests were easy enough.

And the date went okay, all things considered: the guy was nice, if a little bit awkward, and you had a good time bowling with him and playing some games in the old arcade, but there just wasn’t a spark. Everything felt difficult. Forced. So when he was the one to say to you after that he’d had a nice evening but felt that maybe you should just be friends, you couldn’t help but feel relieved. Letting out a breath and giving a genuine smile, you agreed, thanking him for his refreshing candour, before bidding him good night and making your way back to your car.

You held your phone between your fingertips for a while as the engine ran and the heating started to kick in, slowly warming you from the outside, in. As you thawed, you bit the inside of your cheek absentmindedly, a potentially questionable decision planting itself in your mind. Your body didn’t mind how good of an idea your brain thought it was, though. Your fingers moved entirely of their own accord; finding and pressing Seungcheol’s contact name was so starkly different to everything else had been, all damn night. It was easy. His sleep-roughened voice drifting down the phone sounded so easy. Asking if he minded you swinging by his place for a coffee and a debrief felt easy.

Two hours later, writhing on his mattress, two orgasms deep with his head still buried between your thighs and one of his hands groping at your tit as if his life depended on it?

Fucking. Easy.

So then, started the pattern. Waking up the next morning absolutely swimming in one of his oversized t-shirts should’ve felt like guilt and a betrayal of all your self-growth, of your moving on, of your friendship. It should’ve felt uncomfortable and gross and maybe a little panic-inducing, but it never did. It was warm and cosy, it was familiar and comforting, and when he greeted you ‘good morning’ with a pillow to the face, you knew that nothing was ruined; rather, this was just another new difference to your ever-changing relationship with him. Waking up this way… Well, it felt—

Look, you’re only human. You both have needs. After spending two and a half years learning each other's bodies, being together in that way again came so, so…

After every date gone wrong, after every stressful week at work, in the midst of every family drama and friendship breakdown, you found yourself seeking respite in his apartment, between his bedsheets. In his tongue lapping at your pussy; in the head of his cock bruising the back of your throat until he spilled his release into your mouth; in the slow, deep, precise thrusts of his hips as he buried himself inside you over and over and over and over, taking your mind off the stress and concentrating only on making you feel good, on helping you forget everyone and everything else–…

And now?

Well, now, you’re on your way back from yet another miserable date.

About three months ago, you stopped even considering giving the taxi drivers directions to your own place. Now, when you slide into the backseat, you automatically reel off the address you always end up at after a night like this. When your dates only talk about themselves, or say something so wildly out of pocket that it makes your toes curl (and not in a good way), or exclusively go on and on and on about their ‘crazy’ ex partner, you’ve grown all too used to showing up pouting at your friend’s front door.

What?

Being greeted by his knowing smirk and him inviting you inside is familiar; stepping across the threshold and kicking off your shoes in the hallway feels just so… easy.

Flopping down on the couch is easy, and waiting for Seungcheol to come back into the living room with two gleaming glasses and a bottle of wine is easy. Shuffling closer until you have your head resting against his shoulder is easy. Sipping at a chilled glass of rosé with his arm around you, the tip of his finger rubbing tiny circles against the point of your shoulder, eyes fluttering at this perfectly normal, totally platonic, absolutely-not-leading-anywhere-this-time contact is…

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks a few seconds after you set your now half-empty glass down. Your lips curl a little into a grimace on one side and a soft laugh rumbles deep in his chest.

You swear you can feel it vibrate all the way down to your bones.

“What is there to even talk about?” you sigh. “He wouldn’t stop comparing me to his mother, strike one. Spent twenty minutes explaining the plot of my favourite movie back to me, strike two. And then, after all that, threw a tantrum when I swerved his kiss goodbye after he’d eaten basically a whole loaf of garlic bread. Strike three. You’re out.”

He laughs again, and you adjust your head to peer up at him but he isn’t looking at you. He’s staring off at the opposite wall, not even glancing down when his arm tightens to pull you even closer. On cue, you nuzzle your head down into the muscle beneath his t-shirt, and you sigh.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says breezily. “Just… You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

“I don’t deliberately go out with people one screw short of a toolbox, Cheol,” you grumble, lightly slapping his chest. “They always seem fine when we start talking.”

“Mhm,” he hums. You feel him move slightly and then his lips are being pressed to the part of your hair. You’re sure it’s supposed to be a little condescending, but it kind of tingles instead. But that’s just because of the way his breaths play over your roots. Isn’t it? “I know.”

“Trust me, I’d love nothing more than to find someone who—”

“Hey, I know, y/n,” he says again, still softly but just a little firmer this time. “It’s not your fault all these guys are dicks. But-…”

He trails off, tongue pressed lightly against his top teeth, and decides that maybe finishing this sentence isn’t the smart way to proceed. You wait a few seconds, just in case he changes his mind, and poke at his chest again when he doesn’t.

“But what?” You ask.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. It was a stupid joke. Don’t worry about it.”

“Tell me,” you whine. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

It’s his turn to sigh, now. “But…” he starts, pausing for a mixture of allowing his nerves to settle and for dramatic effect. “I’m not complaining: the worse your date goes, the better sex we have after.”

It momentarily stuns you into silence and you suck your teeth at the remark, shaking your head. But you don’t sit up, you don’t shove him away, you don’t argue the point he’s just made whether it was a joke or not. Because…

“I hate that you’re right.”

His hand slides down behind you until it’s wrapped around your waist, his bicep strong against your back and his fingers light as they fiddle with the fabric of your blouse.

“No you don’t,” he tells you, lips tweaking up on one side.

You sigh, burrowing closer into his chest. He’s wearing the cologne he knows you like most and it smells faint, worn, as if he’s had it on for hours, all despite being only dressed in basketball shorts and a white vest. His plans tonight started and ended with you, and showing up here wasn’t promised until you were on his doorstep. Something about knowing he wore it just in case triggers an all too familiar ache between your legs.

Giving in to it?

Ha.

It’s too fucking easy.

“Shut up,” you grumble. Your hand uncurls and your fingers splay over his chest, confessing your agreement and laying the foundations for you even if you deny what you want out loud. “Yes, I do.”

“Oh?” He asks at the exact moment you can feel his nails graze at your skin beneath your shirt. “Do you really?”

“Yeah.” You shift slightly, searching for just a crumb of relief from the press of your thighs, but it never comes.

“I see.” He flattens his palm against your side, the other hand tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, eyes not quite meeting yours as they fixate on the strands already sliding back to their former place against your cheek.

He gently clears his throat, tongue darting out over his lips for the most fleeting of moments, and when he speaks again, it’s lower, quieter, softer. “But if you hate it sooo much…” he ducks his head, close enough that his lips brush the corner of your mouth as he moves them. “Why are you here?”

He bumps the tip of his nose against your cheek, subtly turning your face so if you so much as shuffle, hiccup, breathe in too deeply, your smiles would meet. But they don’t. A hair’s breadth apart, you linger, eyes meeting his in a scorching challenge. One he doesn’t back down from. One he holds, and holds, and holds – waiting, for you, for his answer.

“Because,” you croak. Your throat feels dry, your eyelids suddenly heavy, lashes fluttering.

“Because?” he taunts, his chuckled exhale tickling the tiny hairs all over your skin.

You maintain his gaze still, and he chuckles, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. when you don’t speak for a few seconds more, he takes it upon himself to finish the sentence for you.

“Because you know,” he drawls, gravelly but still somehow heaven-sent and honey-sweet. “That no-one else does it for you the same way I do. Do they?”

You shake your head, the muscles in your neck tight as you wrestle with them not to surge forward and topple against him in a kiss. Seungcheol is an easily pleased man, but you know he loves a bit of a chase and it would be a little rude not to reward his hospitality by giving him one.

“Say it,” he urges. You’re acutely aware of how his breaths stop fanning against your face once the words are out of his mouth, but you don’t give him anything yet. “Come on. You could have any one of those idiots if you wanted them, but you don’t.” A pause. “Do you?”

You swallow hard, cheeks growing hot. You shake your head again, “No.”

“Because…”

And after one, two, three, four, five thundering beats of your heart—

“Because I want you.”

Seungcheol smirks as he pulls your chin up, finally bringing his plush lips down against your own. It’s soft. almost tender. Barely moving — just a press, but it sends waves of energy through you anyway.

“You’ve got me,” he says, pulling back an inch, studying your desperate eyes with his own. “Always gonna have me.”

And suddenly, it’s like his entire world might stop if he lets you go.

Both of his hands cup your cheeks as you shift up onto your knees, your own fingers grasping for dear life at his vest. He kisses you as if he could swallow you whole: hard and deep, breathing hot through his nose as his tongue works its way into your mouth and finds your own. You groan, and hearing the sound draws one out of him, too. There’s just something about kissing Seungcheol, and being kissed by him: you don’t even have to think. He just does. You just do. It’s easy.

His hands find the bottom of your shirt and he pulls upwards, separating from your lips to pull it over your head and toss it haphazardly towards the floor. He reconnects with you almost immediately, hands sliding down from your face to your exposed neck, to your shoulders, toying with the strap of your bra.

“You wear this for me, or him?” he asks, breathing heavily as he looks down at your covered tits, the red and white garment sitting pretty against your skin.

“Who d’you think?” you ask, equally fighting to gasp air into your lungs.

“Better not have been for fuckin’... Captain mommy issues,” he mutters, kissing you hard one more time before his lips attach to the side of your neck. “Never liked the sound of that guy. Thought you were too good for him.”

“S’that right?” You ask, tilting your head back and stuttering out a sigh, lacing it with wisps of a laugh. “You never said so.”

He sucks your skin into his mouth and you swear you can feel every capillary beneath the surface burst one by one, your body-heat climbing to almost unbearable territory. “You were excited,” he says. “Just ‘cause I don't agree with your choices, doesn’t mean I’m gonna be an ass about it.”

And for someone trying their best to cover your throat in as many bruises as possible (no doubt so that if you bump into the asshole from HR who took you out tonight when you’re back at work on Monday, he’ll see that you had a plenty good time without him), it… feels kind of sweet that he’d hold himself back in the name of your theoretical happiness.

“Too good to me,” you chuckle. You’ve long since released your hold on his vest and are now threading your fingers through his hair. He kisses and sucks down over your collarbone, grinning against your skin all the while.

“So?” he asks, tugging the top of your bra in between his teeth.

You glance down at him, biting your bottom lip at the sight. His pupils are blown-out, drowning his familiar warm, chocolatey eyes in black pools of desire. No lies, that’s always been your agreement. No lies. So you tell him the truth, pushing your chest up towards him and pressing his head down slightly so his top lip brushes against your tit.

“Wore it for you, Cheol.”

“Mhm. That’s my girl.”

He sits up straight and pulls you down to him, smashing his lips against yours again as his hands slide around your back, fingertips making quick work of your bra clasp. He pulls the straps down your arms, grunting at the feeling of your breasts relaxing against his own chest; the bra joins your shirt on the floor, and soon after follows his vest, your hands clawing at it to get it off him as fast as you can.

“Up,” he says as your hands trail over his stomach, fingers dipping into every groove of muscle, feeling how they ripple as he reflexively tenses them under your touch. “Now.”

You oblige, climbing off the couch and standing upright. His hand finds the back of your shoulder and he guides you around to the side of the sofa, promptly pushing you down over the arm-rest so your face meets the cushions you were both just sitting on. He pulls your pants down your legs and helps you step out of them, dropping down to his knees and kneading at your thighs with a guttural moan.

“Gonna make you forget all about him, y/n,” he says. “Make you feel so good you won’t even remember his name.”

“Please,” you gasp, feeling his teeth sink into your ass. “So-... fucking good to me…”

He adjusts the position of your legs, bumping them apart until he can settle on his knees between them. His nose drags against the crease between the top of your thigh and the bottom of your ass, his lips trailing kisses all the way from the outside of your leg to where your pussy is throbbing for him. He skips over it, though, nipping and licking at the back of your other thigh, until you’re rocking your hips back to try and push him into your core.

“Be a good girl,” he chuckles, thumbing over the wet-patch in your panties. “I’m gonna look after you. I promise.”

His tongue meets your wetness just a moment after, dragging over the fabric and making you whimper. Your hands scramble to clutch onto something, one grabbing the edge of the seat cushion and the other balling into a fist.

“Fuck, Cheol,” you hiss, feeling the heat from his mouth all over you. “Please – I need it. I need you.”

“Shh,” he says. You can feel his lips twist into a smile. God, you wish you could see him right now. “I’ve got you.”

When exactly his fingers tucked themselves under the waistband of your underwear, you’re not sure: all you know is that one minute, he’s breathing in your scent through the seat of your panties, and the next he’s yanking them down your legs and diving into your cunt like it’s his last meal on death-row. The sheer force of his hands gripping your thighs and his head burying itself between them makes you stumble forwards, the couch groaning as it shifts against the laminate flooring, and you cry out a wet sob of his name.

Who were you kidding, before, when you thought that this wasn’t going to go anywhere tonight?

The build-up to this started the second you told him about the date a week and a half ago.

But you can’t think about the mediocre pasta dish you ate this evening, or the moron who sat across from you at the table who kept checking his phone and glancing over your shoulder. You can’t think about how many times he went to the bathroom after receiving a text, or how he came back grinning cockily before he sat back down.

All you can think about is how deep Seungcheol’s tongue fucks into you. How he fucking slurps all the wetness your pussy can give him, how he groans and moans and chuckles every time he shifts his head forward and flicks the muscle over your clit. Your head is spinning and your eyes begin smarting at the corners when his nails on one hand dig harshly into the fat at the top of your thigh. It stings, but it feels so fucking good. Your knees are weak, you’re about to bite clean through your lip in an attempt to be respectful to Seungcheol’s neighbours, and your knuckles are sore from the force with which your fist is clenched.

Lord, he’s good.

“Don’t hold back,” he gasps, pulling away from you, a string of his own spit and your arousal still connecting him to your pussy. “C’mon, babe. I can feel you’re close.”

The loss of his mouth genuinely feels like the end of the world and you could buckle, in this moment. But he’s done this on purpose: he always does. He knows you. He knows the sounds you make and the way your body moves when you’re tantalisingly on the edge of your climax. His thumbs rub circles into your thighs and you just know he’s got the most obnoxious, insufferable grin on his face behind you while he does it: you can picture it, so perfectly. So easily.

The orgasm you didn’t quite reach starts to ebb away from you and you give a grumble of frustration, pushing up onto your palms to turn around and look at him.

“You’re such a bastard, Cheol,” you hiss, and he grins back at you, his lips swollen and shiny as he licks over them.

“Get that pretty face back down, baby. I’m not done.”

It feels like a delightful punch in the gut, so you do. You drop back down onto your elbows, feeling him shift his position but you can’t see to what; his body heat never leaves yours even when his hands aren’t on you anymore, so you know he hasn’t stood up or gone far. It’s only when you clear your throat that you feel him again. Sat down with his back to the couch, between your thighs, nosing at your clit to get you worked up all over again: his fingers trail over your folds, collecting your arousal, spreading your lips and tonguing between them. You whine for him, keening and confused but overwhelmed at the stark shift from before. How he touches your pussy like it’s the first time, like it’s the last.

He presses one long finger inside you, free hand pushing your hips into just the right position that he can suck your clit into his mouth. You feel yourself grinding down against his hand, begging him for more without having the words to ask for it, but Seungcheol doesn’t need to be asked. It’s intuitive to him. Eating you out could well be his day job. Another finger joins the first and he pumps them in and out of you at a pace you adore, his tongue flicking precisely over the bud in his mouth.

Your disappointingly lost orgasm from before starts to creep up on you again, and you know he knows it too. But this time, he doesn’t slow. This time, he doesn’t stop. He hums in the back of his throat: it’s permission, you realise, to come undone; burying your face further into the cushions, you let out a muffled series of expletives, sobs, moans of his name. You tumble over the edge with a broken cry, fingers curling into the couch cushions, and he only pulls away when your knees actually give out.

His strong frame is the only thing still holding you up by the time you’ve stopped twitching through the aftershocks, remembering how it feels to have full lungs and a working pair of eyes. You roll your head to the side as he slips out from beneath you, immediately sliding his arm around your waist and leaning over you to keep you steady. Through the material of his shorts, you can feel his hard-on poking at your ass: the fact that you’re this fucked and he hasn’t put his cock inside you yet makes your eyes water.

“Okay?” he asks, pressing tender kisses down the length of your spine. You just breathe, nodding with difficulty owed to your current position and the way all your muscles suddenly feel a hundred times heavier than normal. “Talk to me, sweetheart. You okay?”

“M’okay,” you say. “Just… gimme a sec…”

He keeps pressing his lips all over your back, hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips as you fully recover. You nod again when you’re a little more communicative, pushing up onto your elbows once more.

“Said I’d look after you,” he says. “And you were so good for me.”

“Yeah?” you ask, swallowing hard as you twist your spine uncomfortably to look back at him. Fuck it, maybe he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. Is that some great secret? Is it such a crime?

“You always are, baby.”

He looks down at you again: at the shape of your body, bent so crudely over the arm of his couch. At your messed-up hair, your smeared makeup, your soft, dewy eyes. He bites his bottom lip, swallowing hard, running a finger from between your shoulder-blades all the way down towards your ass.

“Can I?” he asks, pushing his hips against you again, your still-soaked pussy smearing arousal all over the front of his shorts where it meets them.

“Please,” you nod, shifting your legs slightly to try and get more comfortable. He drops his shorts in a matter of seconds, cock springing free from their confines. It’s thick and veiny, leaking in his palm as he strokes it, one hand coming back to rest on your hip.

“Fuck, babe,” he sighs. “You’re doing so good.”

The head feels delicious against your swollen cunt and you gasp at the pressure of him sliding through your folds, leisurely lubing himself up with your arousal. It glides over your clit and you can’t contain the slight hiss that escapes you. He starts to say something, his voice just audible to you where you’re propped, but for some reason he stops short, and you don’t quite hear him anyway. There’s not enough time to dwell on it though: your eyelashes flutter closed when he prods at your entrance, pushing into you with hardly any resistance at all, and his unstarted, unfinished sentence is forgotten.

It’s still a stretch to take him and he eases himself deeper until his hips are pressed fully against your ass. He rests there for a moment, letting you adjust, letting your body mould to the shape of his own, and it’s only when you reach back with one hand to gently nudge against his wrist to give an okay that he starts to move.

“Good girl,” he says, quieter this time. Like he’s distracted. Like he’s contemplating. But you don’t ask, because you don’t really want to know: every drag of his cock against your walls feels like fireworks bursting over every inch of your skin, like being engulfed in flame, and nothing could take you out of how electric you feel. “Taking me so, so well.”

His hips start to thrust against you quicker, snapping so his cock buries itself deep but mercilessly quickly into your pussy. It’s only a matter of minutes until you’re clenching around him and when you do, Seungcheol – who you noticed early on into your relationship was one of the most vocal men you’d ever had in the bedroom – stops holding back the sounds you think back to when it’s just you and your trusty vibrator against the world. You swear that half the reason your sexual chemistry with him is so unrivalled is because of how loud you can both get.

You don’t know how long he’s fucking you for, sweat beading over both of your bodies and leaving you slick all over. What you do know, though, is that when he bends down over you, supported by one hand bracing his weight against the cushion by our head, he’s close.

He isn’t groaning and grunting anymore. He’s whining. So agonisingly hard and so painfully wound up that he could snap. His voice is little more than a whimper in your ear when his lips ghost over the shell of it, thrusts slowing as he tries to stave off his high just a little bit longer.

“Wanna drown in this pussy,” he says, eyes squeezed shut, jaw falling slack as you spasm around his length again. “Shit – I love y-... love this… love this so much-...”

And this time, you fucking notice.

This time, you hear him. You know what he said before, now. When you didn’t care, when you just wanted him to fill you up, when you just wanted to have him pound into you until your brain disconnected from failed romances and shitty dating apps and people who weren’t him. Because he started to say it then, too – started to say I love y–

And this time… you say it, back.

“I love you too, Cheol.”

Jesus, fuck.

Loving Choi Seungcheol is the easiest thing in the world.

He freezes, buried inside you all the way to the hilt, a bead of sweat running down the bridge of his nose and hanging onto the tip for dear life. His eyes shoot open, his head turns, and you meet his gaze by turning your own. He’s feeling everything. All at once. So are you. Arousal and need and fear – God, so much fucking fear – but love. Adoration, affection, endearment, devotion – shit, he feels it all, and it’s written in every line of his face, and when his lips move into a smile, when the corners of his eyes crease, when he lets it wash over him, it feels better than any orgasm he’ll have for the rest of his life.

Even the one that explodes through him when you start to grind yourself back on his cock and he lets go, fingers scrabbling to hold your hand, lips finding home on the back of your shoulder. He paints your insides with his cum, fucks it into you for as long as he can physically withstand. You don’t even have it in you to chase another climax of your own, too blissed out in the relief of your own feelings to feel inclined to try.

So, maybe there’s a reason you kept accepting dates with men you knew you weren’t compatible with.

Maybe there’s a reason you didn’t give those other people a real chance.

Maybe there’s a reason you always found yourself looking forward to the end of every night having dinner with a stranger.

Because all the roads lead you here. Because it’s easy being here – it’s where you belong.

He stays sheathed inside you for a little while longer, pressing kisses everywhere his lips can reach before he has to pull his softening cock from its home between your legs. You lament at the feeling of emptiness, even as his strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you upright for the first time in so long that your legs feel like jelly. It’s okay, though. He holds you against his chest, burying his head into your neck – there’s no way you’re going to fall.

(At least, no more than you already have.)

“I’ll give you everything,” he whispers to you, moving your hair out the way so he can press small, doting kisses to the line of your jaw. “I can give it to you. I was a fucking idiot before – I’ll give you everything I have. I don’t know if I can be perfect but anything you want–...”

“I just want you, Cheol,” you tell him. “Everything – screw all that. I just want you.”

“Be with me?” he asks. You nod, feeling him light up in a smile for the hundredth time tonight. Even though you can’t see it, you’re sure it’s as blindingly beautiful as the first smile he sent your way, all those years ago. (It was Joshua’s birthday. You remember that, now.) And the second. And every damn time since. “Forever, this time.”

“Forever, this time,” you agree.

Because spending forever with the man who lifts you into his arms and carries you towards his shower, so you can clean down and get ready for bed? Right now, it sounds so –

But everything with Seungcheol has always been easy. Easier than with anyone else.

thank u so much for reading! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all always so appreciated<3

#s.coups smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol smut #seungcheol smut #s.coups x reader #j writes.#*#i am running into the woods and never coming back. i don't know who i became while writing this. it wasn't me it was patricia.#send help. i had one singular marble left. seungcheol has fucking FLOWN away with it. i have gone fully fucking insane.#good BY E

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nctsworld · 8 months

Text

at your earliest convenience

✩‌ haechan x reader | fluff | 1.3k

SUMMARY | in which haechan is always your one (and annoying) late-night customer at the 24/7 convenience store you work at and one evening, he forgets his wallet. in lieu of payment, he asks if he can take you out on a date instead. // part of the connection series

WARNINGS | slightly insecure reader, none really!

RATING | teen+

AUTHOR'S NOTE | please check out (and maybe send in some prompt requests) @nctpromptmeme!

You ring him up, like clockwork.

The scanner picks up a bag of the Korean brand onion rings, two Red Bulls, and an instant noodle cup.

He’s the only consistent man in your life, ignoring the fact that the sole reason why he’s in your life is because he always comes into the 24/7 convenience store you work at during late, sometimes ungodly, hours. Tonight, it’s not that bad: 1:53am.

Rarely, no one else strolls in during your shift (and you’re grateful it’s a safe neighbourhood).

However, this young man lives to make your shift a painful one.

Usually with ruffled hair, transparent-framed glasses, and a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, he saunters in as if he owns the store, often swinging his keys or obnoxiously whistling along to the song playing in the background. From the moment he steps into the store, his existence alone irks you.

Unsurprisingly, he then takes a solid ten minutes on average (yes, you’ve timed it) to buy his items. Whistling evolves into screeches or emphatic oohs and aahs. Sometimes, he even narrates the entire process, as if he's the main character in a show. And yet, despite it all, he ends up buying the same rotation of his favourite items.

If not the onion rings, the shrimp crackers. If not the Red Bulls, the bottles of Monster instead. He may be grabbing one cup of noodles tonight, but other times it’s three. Potentially even a completely different brand, if he’s feeling adventurous.

On that note, predictability is in his nature. You plead internally for him to live a little, to maybe even spice up his night with a little change, for crying out loud. Heck, maybe even change the grey or black t-shirt he always wears to a shade that’s not a neutral tone or to put on a jacket for once.

And the cherry on top is the constant annoying smirk he flashes when you tell him his total.

You want to punch it off his face, smear it across the shiny floors with the dirty mop water you use at the beginning and end of shift.

“How are you doing tonight, gorgeous?” he asks. Sometimes gorgeous is replaced with beautiful or cutie. It only adds to his annoyance of regularity and you have an itch he does this all the time with others, making you not take his typical endearing terms seriously.

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “I’m not gorgeous, but, as always, thank you for the compliment.”

His smirk melts, and you catch yourself feeling a tinge of something as his features soften.

“You are, though,” your regular says. You quickly glance up, wondering if that pout and look in his eyes are genuine. “You know that I call you gorgeous because I mean it, right?”

You’re unsure how to react, so you give a small nod and repeat the total, softly this time.

There’s a beat when the man gets lost in thought, but the moment quickly fades. He reaches into his sweatpants. However, he stops abruptly, before he reaches in again and pats the outside of his other pockets.

“Fuck,” he hisses. You realize two things: one, you’ve never heard him curse; and two, he doesn’t have his wallet.

Well, that surely is different than usual.

Instinctively, you pull the snacks toward you.

“Don’t you dare think I’m letting you walk away with everything for free,” you say, half-jokingly. Even though you’re 80% certain you can trust him, you still don’t know what he’s like.

He smiles sweetly, quite differently than his smirks, forcing you to admit he’s handsome (just a little). “How could you expect me to stoop that low?” he whine-asks, clutching his chest in pain.

After a moment of staring up at the ceiling in thought with his tongue running against his lower teeth, a Cheshire grin spreads over his face and he raises an eyebrow.

You don’t like it one bit and regret the moment earlier, mentally punching yourself for finding him a tiny bit attractive.

“How about…”—he pauses as he rhythmically taps his fingers onto the counter—“...you let me take you out on a date in exchange for these items?”

A scoff releases into the air. “Are you really telling me I’m only worth $11.87?”

“What—no! Of course not,” he flicks a wrist upward in annoyance, then gestures to himself. “A date with me is worth way more in value, so you’ll be getting a better bargain.”

You could not believe this guy. “Is a date with you really going to be worth it?”

“Look,” he leans in over the counter and you catch a whiff of a light, woody scent. You fight off the desire to deeply inhale it. “No matter where we go or what happens, I’ll make sure you’ll be happy by the end of it. Isn’t that worth taking the risk of losing $11.87?”

Squinting your eyes at him, while still clutching the goods he wants, you start to warm-up to the idea since you don’t have anything to lose (but maybe that’s due to the influence of his slightly intoxicating aura).

“Will you choose the date location?” you ask, guarded.

He shakes his head. “Everything will be up to you and I’ll try to accommodate my schedule as best as I can.”

You raise an eyebrow, challenging him. “And what if I want to go to the most expensive restaurant in town?”

Without hesitation, he nods. “Then we’ll go to the most expensive restaurant in town.”

“If I wanted to order the $130 steak?”

“$130 steak it is.”

“If I—”

The cute (you can’t deny it at this point) stranger cuts you off with a raise of his hand. God, you hate how cocky he is.

Suddenly, he holds out a hand, sticking his pinky finger up. He waggles it, and you realize he’s waiting for you to do the same. You curl a pinky around his.

“There. I promise you—cross my heart and swear on my mother’s life—that I’ll uphold and adhere to whatever date conditions you ask of me.” He straightens, stepping away from the counter. “Now, can I please have my snacks and drinks?”

The events of tonight took quite a turn. Never in a million years would you think Mr. Predictability would ask you out on a date, let alone be pretty sweet about it.

Perhaps there’s more to him than you thought.

You hand him your phone, and he does the same.

When he gives it back, you shake your head at the text he sent and the name he gave himself.

“Hyuck?” you ask, unfamiliar with the name.

“Short for Donghyuck, but yes, beautiful?”

You turn your phone towards him in disbelief. “What’s with the heart next to your name?”

He shrugs, flashing you another smug smile. “What about it?”

Glancing down at his phone, he beams. You wonder if it’s because you wrote the following in brackets after your name: You Owe Me a Date Worth More than $11.87.

“And your name is just as beautiful as you are.”

Again, another eye roll. You wonder if the date will be filled with more of it. You shove the stuff towards him.

“I have to know: do those lines really work?”

“Well, I have a date lined up with you, so you tell me.”

Before you have a chance to retort, he grabs something out from his pocket.

A wallet.

His motherfucking wallet, and he has the audacity to toss a $20 bill onto the counter with the same grin that you still want to wipe the floor with. Your jaw hangs.

“Keep the change,” he says, along with your name and grants you a wink as he grabs his items.

“I’ll be seeing you on our date soon, gorgeous.”

AUTHOR'S ENDING NOTE

thank you for reading! i've been getting so much love for this - y'all are amazing. if you would like to read an informal continuation, see here!

#yn brainrot #haechan fluff #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #haechan fanfic #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 fanfic #nct dream fluff #nct dream fanfic #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios

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sincerelyneo · 23 days

Text

wildest dreams | z.cl

“lets get out of this town, drive out of the city”

💿now playing: wildest dreams by taylor swift

❯ summary: Chenle swears he’s going going crazy with cabin fever inside your shared house — and there’s no way you’re saying no to a late night drive with the roommate you so desperately have a crush on. Who cares if his original story was a lie and, secretly, he just wanted to be alone with you.

❯ pairings: chenle x fem!reader

❯ genre: roommates, friends to lovers, smut, so much fluff i have a tooth ache.

❯ words: 5.6k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, fluff, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), creampie, a lot of marking, bruising, oral sex (f receiving), heavy petting, lots of kissing, reader uses she/her pronouns, chenle is smitten for reader, very slight mention of possessive chenle, chenle takes his friend for a drive with the intention of fucking her.

It didn’t take much. Five words, to be exact.

The clock at the bottom of your screen reads 2:16 am when there is a low knock on your bedroom door. You twist your neck to look over your shoulder to yell for your roommate to come in.

Chenle pushes the door open just enough to stick his shoulder and head in. Dressed in a dark grey hoodie, light blue jeans, and his high-top converse; he already has his keys in his hand and is ready to bolt.

“You wanna take a drive?”

“Fuck yeah,” you say with no hesitation as you push your hands against your desk you were studying at. You grab the closest hoodie and pair of shoes before following him outside without another sentence exchange.

Sitting in the passenger’s seat of Chenle’s car, you watch the warm yellow streetlights create shadows on his face as he drives you both out of the city, looking for quiet roads with no other people around.

Low music flows from the speakers that were connected to his phone. The familiar lyrics to some song has him humming along as his foot steadies on the gas pedal. The beat is just loud enough to fill the comfortable silence.

With your head leaning against the headrest and arms folded over your chest, you roll your neck to look over at Chenle. His body is relaxed as he drives with one hand on top of the wheel and his other laying in his lap.

His thick eyebrows slightly furrow as he pays close attention to the dark roads. The strands of hair curling ruthlessly around the edges of his forehead are messy, and they make the roommate in front of you look so fucking gorgeous, and he definitely knows it too.

You take a deep breath as you cross your leg over the other, “So, why’d you wanna take a drive?”

He shrugs, stealing a quick glance over at you, “Was starting to feel a bit cooped up in that house.”

“Really, why didn’t you ask Jeno or Haechan to come with us? I swear I could hear them still playing video games?”

He raises his eyebrow at you. You and he both knew better than to disturb those two when they were five hours deep into a gaming session.

“Okay, yeah, never mind.”

He laughs so hard that his nose scrunches up like it always does when he laughs genuinely.

The lampposts start getting fewer and farther apart the longer he drives. The only light in the car comes from the radio and the few random lights on his dashboard.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this far out of the city,” you say to break the silence.

“Well, I don’t drive as much but I know my way around. We’re pretty much out of the busy part now.”

He leans forward in his seat as he presses on the brake for an upcoming stop sign. A sign in the road. Only left or right.

“Which way?” He asks.

“Why do I have to pick?”

“I’m driving so you pick the direction.”

“Umm, okay, left then.”

He laughs to himself and it’s breathy, “always so predictable.”

“Hey! I can hear you; you know!?”

He clicks his tongue and spins the wheel, one-handed. Your eyes follow as his fingers flex to grip back around the leather of the steering wheel once the turn is complete.

“Any idea in mind of where we’re going?” You ask, curious.

He hums for a moment as he rests his forearm on the console between you, driving with his left hand on top of the wheel. “It’s pretty much just fields in this direction.”

Sitting up to get a good look up and out the windshield, you glance up at the night sky. It’s almost pitch black around here. Perfect.

“Wanna drive for another minute or so; before stopping to look at some stars?” You offer.

Chenle smiles as he turns his attention away from the road over to you for just a second, “Sounds good to me.”

You couldn’t help but flush in the darkness as you bow your head away from him. Warmth floods your face as your mind sticks to thoughts about him.

You and Chenle had always gotten along. A shared living room meant shared conversations; a shared kitchen quickly turned into shared meals; and your rooms being completely opposite from each other lead to awkward small talk. Often, Chenle appears in your doorway with offers of watching a new tv show with takeout from his favourite restaurant; or asking if he could just lay on your bed while you studied.

You were good friends. Still, your mind couldn’t help but wonder if there was any possibility of something more. You adored him, honestly.

Your gaze flicks down to look at his hand that was resting on the console. Staring at it, hoping it would just move at your will to get even closer; to touch you in any way possible.

Shaking your head lightly, purging the thoughts of his fingers and palms from your mind, you shift to look out the passenger window. The horizon starts to slow as Chenle presses his foot down on the brake to pull off the road, letting his car drive on the grass field that seems to go on for acres.

He puts the car in park and pockets his keys as you climb out of the seat, jogging a few feet away with your head craned all the way back to look up at the night sky. The light from the headlights casts your shadow as you spin on your heel at the sound of Chenle’s door opening and closing.

“I figured here was a good enough spot,” He calls out as he went around the back of his car to open up the trunk.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” You asked as you throw your hand over your eyes to squint, trying to figure out what he was grabbing.

The trunk closes with a slam as he reappears with a white-knitted blanket in his arms.

How long has he had that in his car?

You spread out the blanket on the ground before he lays himself down on top of it, letting out a groan as he rests one hand behind his head. He looks up at you. His dark eyes starting to dilate.

His free arm rises up with his hand making grabby motions at you, “Come on. Lay next to me.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you take his hand to sit down next to him. Instead of laying down right away, you sit with your legs crisscrossed, dropping his hand the second you’re settled on the ground.

Chenle lets out a small huff as he sits up a bit to lean on his elbows. His brows draw in a frown.

“What?” You ask him.

He shakes his head.

“I said,” he leans over to hook his arm over your waist, pushing you to lay flat on the ground, “to lay next to me.”

Your hair flares out against the blanket as he lays back down on his side to look at you. He’s situated a couple of inches lower than where you ended up, the side of his head resting against your shoulder.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You didn’t listen to me.”

“Whatever,” you close your eyes for a moment as you roll your head to look up at the stars. “The stars are pretty tonight.”

“They always look like that.”

You huff, “You’re such a guy.”

“Excuse me?” He laughs as he tilts his head over at you.

You sigh as you rest your hands on your stomach.

“You don’t appreciate the beauty of everyday life. Yes, stars look the same, but we don’t see them all the time. So, they are pretty tonight.”

Chenle lets out another laugh, “I appreciate plenty of beauty every day.”

“Really? Like what?” You turn your head to look down at him.

“Jeno is a pretty guy,” he says without hesitation.

You let out a laugh as you agree with him, “hmm good point. Jeno is pretty cute.”

“But I’m cuter,” It sounded like a statement, but his voice got a pitch higher, almost like he was asking you a question.

You both nod your head as you look down at him for a second before turning back towards the stars, “Yes, Chenle, you are.”

He rolls onto his back but leaves his head on your shoulder to look up at the visible stars in the sky.

He let out a huff, “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be looking for. I don’t see shit.”

“Easy, I’ll show you,” you shuffle down to his level and flip onto your side to get your head close to his to understand where exactly he was looking. “Okay, over here. You see those cluster of staggered stars right there?” you raise your hand to point off to the right side of him.

“Maybe?” He furrows his eyebrows as he squints up at the dots in the black sky.

Taking a deep breath, you wiggle closer, body practically right up against his. Leaning over just a tad bit more.

“Follow my finger,” you turn your head to look over at him for a moment only to find him already looking at your face. “Chenle, come on.”

“Okay, okay, where?” He let out a sigh as he twists his head back to where your hand is.

“Right here,” your finger traces over the constellation. “Those stars are the Archer constellation.”

“The what?”

“The archer is another word for the Sagittarius constellation. I think that’s your zodiac—” your hand moves away from the set of stars realising you were being a bit full-on and obvious.

Luckily, you could tell Chenle wasn’t paying attention. Feeling his breath on the side of your face and not looking at the stars or listening to anything you were saying. Thankfully, it was dark as all hell out here so he couldn’t completely see how nervous he truly made you.

“Chenle,” you sigh as he only hums back at you, “if you aren’t going to pay attention, why did you agree?”

Your noses are almost touching when you turn your head to look back at him.

“Because you wanted to do this,” his voice is barely louder than a whisper. The answer is simple enough, but it speaks volumes.

“You’re the one who wanted to take a drive,” you try to deflect.

“No. I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, “I thought you were going stir crazy?”

He bites his bottom lip as he slowly closes his eyes, realising you caught onto his tiny white lie.

“Okay, fine, you got me,” he lets out a breath as he reopens his eyes.

You swallow nervously as you watch his eyes comb over your face as you fall silent once again. The only sounds now are the crickets and your breathing, but you could also hear the pounding from your own heartbeat. You felt like you were trembling from his gaze alone.

The tension in the air is thick and heavy as the cool breeze blows past you. You want to break it, but don't know how. You don’t want to try and make a joke just for it to land flat and make the tension not only thicker but also awkward.

Feeling the need to break eye contact, your eyes fall down to follow the column of his throat down to his chest which is covered by the fabric of his hoodie.

“Please tell me I’m reading this right?” he asks you lowly; then he rolls over and lifts himself up onto his elbow to look down at you.

You reach up to twist your finger around the string of his hoodie, letting your eyelids fall just a bit as you wrap the string between your fingers. You shrug slightly as you lick your lips, tilting your head to the side a bit.

“And what if you are?”

He doesn’t say anything else. This tension is definitely not friendly in any kind of way. Not with how close he is; with the way he is hovering above you. Not with the way you’re both breathing. And definitely not with the way you’re looking at each other.

“What’s stopping you?” You ask him, tilting your head back to look up at him. Your eyes search his, urging him on with your words to just take the bait.

Please. Take the bait.

His gaze flicks down to your lips before his hand comes up to rest on the side of your neck, leaning down to slot your lips together.

The kiss doesn’t last long. He pulls back just enough to look at you — faces still close enough to have breaths shared.

You want him.

Tilting your chin up to chase his mouth, you kiss him again and you both equally melt against each other. His thumb starts running back and forth against your cheek; and his other arm keeps him up high enough not to crush you with all his body weight.

“W-we-,” He pulls away, distracted by your boldness, only to be brought back to what was important as you use your hand to grab his chin, and turn his head back to you.

“Pay attention.”

His eyes blow wide as a smile begins to spread across his face before you’re pulling him back down to connect his mouth with yours again.

Your body wasn’t trembling but tingling with the way his hands had started caressing your side as your mouths kept moving harder against each other.

A shiver runs through your body once Chenle’s hand trails down to your waist and under your own hoodie to glide across your stomach for a moment before going back to your side. Your arms wrap around his neck while your hand tangles itself into his hair. His clustered strands successfully keep your fingers against his scalp.

Accidentally, pulling on his hair, he lets out a groan and you can’t help but have a reaction of your own as you arch your back into him.

Chenle shifts to move completely over you and your legs fall open without a second thought as he settles himself in between them. The kiss is growing more desperate and rougher with every passing moment.

He finally pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours. His nose brushes against the side of yours as you take a break to let air back into your lungs.

“I never thought you’d be into me,” Chenle breathes out, his eyes closing as he tries to calm his racing pulse.

“That’s ridiculous,” you reply as you lay your hand on the back of his neck to pull him back in for another kiss. Biting his lip when you pull away to speak this time, “You’re hot as fuck.”

You lean back up to kiss his jaw. “A complete loser, maybe…” you keep trailing up his jaw with every compliment you give him.

“…but a sweet and thoughtful, a confident and cute…”

When you reach his ear, you couldn’t help but bite lightly before saying, “Incredibly sexy loser.”

His entire body shivers as he pushes you back down, flat against the ground to connect your lips again, his tongue sliding into your mouth as a gasp flies out of you.

You don’t know how you found the consciousness to wrap your legs around his waist and use your heels to push him even closer, but you do, and his reaction is completely welcomed as he lets out another guttural groan.

Soft pants fill the air as you’re completely wrapped around each other. A whimper escapes every so often from your mouth as Chenle shifts upwards to place his arm by your head to tower over you. His lower body is grinding against yours and the friction feels amazing.

“Chenle,” you moan out as you felt his fingers dance across the skin of your stomach again. The hand that isn’t keeping him upright almost never leaves your skin.

When he does pull away, his lips are red and swollen. Eyelids half-lidded, a red blush prominent on his cheeks all the way down to his neck.

You did that.

You made him like that.

His thumb hooks into your sweatpants and traces the sensitive skin just under your underwear.

“I want to taste you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as a whine comes out of your throat. “Oh, fuck,” you whisper and throw your head back.

He didn’t even have to do anything, simply his words and pretty much him alone could pull such a reaction out of you.

You kick off your shoes as he pulls your pants down, along with your underwear in one fell swoop, tossing them to the side. You feel like you’re going to pass out any second from how worked up you are.

“You’re soaked, baby,” Chenle says as his thumbs rub circles into your hip bones. The cool air raises goosebumps to the exposed skin of your now naked thighs. “You okay with this?”

“Yes, just please,” you beg as your hands grip at his shoulders, trying to move him back to you.

He presses light kisses up your thigh, completely avoiding where you needed him. His nose brushes against your skin as he keeps moving upwards towards your stomach, raking up your hoodie and shirt to your ribs. His rough fingers start trailing across you as he makes his way up towards your boobs.

“Chenle, please,” you moan, as his hands slid back down towards your hips. “Stop teasing.”

“Easy,” he lifts his gaze to look up at you. A boyish smirk is now plastered on his face. His lips touch your skin as he speaks, “I’ve waited months for this. And I sure as fuck think I deserve to take my time with you.”

You let out a shaky sigh, “Well, I need you to do something, anything!”

You try to push him by his shoulders to get him to move in the right direction, but he doesn't even budge. Instead, his thumbs dig hard enough into your hips that you knew there would be bruises in a few hours. Hissing but also throwing your head back, your fingers grip the fabric of his hoodie, and you could feel the smile on his face against your ribs.

“You like being marked up?”

All you could do is nod as his grip somehow tightens.

“Words. I need words.”

“Yes,” was all you manage to get out.

“Good, ‘cause I intend to mark every part of you,” he says as he starts to move back down your body, finally going to the place where you really needed him.

Your breath hitches when you eventually feel him lick a stripe up your folds. “You taste amazing. I’m never letting you have anyone else.”

Letting out a shaky moan as fingers raked through his hair, you say, “I don’t want anyone else.”

Twitches consume your whole body every time his nose hits your clit. Your hips buck every single time until he uses one hand to keep them against the ground.

“Stop. Moving.” He warns through tight teeth.

But you couldn’t, not with his skin brushing up the insides of your thighs with his every move. Not with the way he glares up at you like you were his last meal.

The feeling of his tongue all over your cunt shocks your entire nervous system; whimpering, as his lips attack and suck at your clit, your hips moving wildly from the newest sensation.

“Fucking stop moving,” his voice had somehow gotten even deeper, and you couldn’t help but clench around nothing.

You whine when he lifts his head a couple of inches away from your pussy. His mouth and jaw shiny with your slick. “Gonna be a good girl?”

Your fingers start to shake as you try to keep them against his scalp. You nod dumbfoundedly. You would do anything to get him to go back to what he was doing.

“Yes, I will. Please, keep going. Please.”

Without another word, Chenle adds two of his fingers as his mouth goes back to your clit. Moans turn into yelps and whines turn into whimpers as you just bask in the feeling of having all his attention on your cunt.

Somehow finding the strength to pick your head up, you could clearly see Chenle grinding his own hips into the ground, giving himself some friction.

“Fuck,” you whine out as your eyes roll into the back of your head, letting it fall backwards again and hitting the ground with a thump. The sight of seeing him chasing some of his own pleasure while eating you out was enough to coast you straight into the beginning of your orgasm.

You could feel him smile against your wet pussy. His fingers keep their pace, but you swear he starts sucking harder while intertwining kitten licks to your clit.

“Chenle.” You moan, “Chen-, please. I’m-”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to speak as he starts to curl the fingers he had inside of you, resulting in your thighs beginning to twitch and tremble.

With your back arching, you sing out his name in the most delicate moan as you crest over. His hands try their best to keep your lower body flat on the ground to let you ride it out. You could feel your voice starting to go raw from how good he was making you feel.

You can’t wait to feel him inside you.

Your chest starts heaving as Chenle slowly makes his way back up your body, placing kisses on every spot of skin as he rises up to your face. He has a stupid, dumb smile on his face as he ducks his head into the crook of your neck.

“That good, hmm?”

You’re unresponsive, all the muscles in your body starting to relax as he begins to leave small bites and kisses on the side of your neck. Your hands roam over his back as you try to piece your mind back together.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe out. You let out a chuckle yourself as you drag your nails against the hoodie on his back, “Yeah, it was that good.”

Your eyes open as you feel a new rush of need, watching his shoulders move while he tuns his tongue against the side of your neck. The feeling of his hard cock against your sensitive cunt, the same place his face was just a moment before, made you slide your hands down to the bottom of his top.

You need him to have less clothes on. You want to feel him just as much as he felt you.

You tug on the bottom of his grey hoodie, signalling to him you wanted it off. He obviously gets the hint as he rises to his knees while still in between your legs to pull the article of clothing off. His shirt follows a split second before it falls back down to its proper spot.

“Take off your fucking pants,” you order him as you pull up his shirt, trying your best to find the button and zipper of his jeans with your fingers still shaking.

He laughs as he sits on the back of his knees, “Whoa, chill. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, but you’re still not close enough,” you use whatever core strength you had left in you to lift your body up to kiss him once more. “You’re not inside me.”

He closes his eyes and lifts his eyebrows while swallowing thickly, “Fuck, okay.”

The second his cock springs free from his pants, your hand goes straight to it, stroking it as he sucks in a breath and almost doubles over. A moan falls from his mouth as your thumb runs over his tip.

His hand snakes back to your face to cup your cheek as he kisses you, slowly pushing you back against the ground. He knocks your hand away from his cock as he positions his body back on top of yours. Grabbing your thigh with his other hand to move your leg to wrap around his waist.

“Sure you wanna do this?” He mumbles breathlessly against your lips as he runs the tip against your pussy.

“Yes,” you slur, drunk on his attention.

Gasps come out of both your mouths when he pushes himself in. Eyebrows pinching as you tilt your head back. He takes that opportunity to dip his head and start kissing and nipping at your open collarbones.

“Oh my god,” you whimper. The stretch from his cock burns but also feels too fucking good. He is like the perfect size — made entirely for you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head once he fully stills inside you till the hilt.

Chenle pulls his head away from your neck to rest his forehead against yours. His harsh and heavy breaths hit your skin as he searches your face for any discomfort, “All good?”

You nod, “Move, please.”

You don’t have to ask twice as he begins to drag his cock in and out of you. Hitting the perfect places every time he thrusts, each time mewls and whimpers of noise escape your throat without much thought.

You’re loud — you both are. You knew you were, so it was a good thing you were in the middle of fucking nowhere because there was no way you were going to silence yourself.

Your hands slip under his shirt and pull it up to his shoulder blades where you dig your nails into his pretty skin. He lets out a hiss as his thrusts get harder resulting in you creating even more scratches on his back.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one leaving marks,” Chenle huffs as he pushes his hips hard enough that there was an audible slap from your hips meeting.

“Then fucking do it.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He rucks your hoodie and shirt back up and over your bra and drops his head to start his work on the swell of your breasts. All you could do is sigh and wait until later to see the extent of his creation. The image of seeing all the bruises and marks on your chest makes your pussy flutter around his cock, resulting in Chenle groaning against your skin along with his hips stuttering.

“You can’t do that.”

“Why not?” You challenge and clench around him again to be a brat.

“Because,” he lets out through his teeth as he gave you one particularly rough thrust that makes your entire body rock against his, “I won’t last if you keep at it.”

You keep clawing at his back as his thrusts don’t falter nor lose any force. The smirk on his face comes back.

“And I don’t think you want this to end anytime soon.”

You don’t know if you are going to last much longer. The pressure of his body against yours, the hard yet rhythmic fuck of his hips, the bites and licks against your chest, not to mention the stretch in your cunt.

Your mind was putty and Chenle was the only consistent and clear thought in it.

Your legs somehow get impossibly tighter around his waist as his finger comes to rub circles into your swollen clit. The only things coming out of your mouth are small and fast pants — with the occasional drop of his name — as your eyebrows furrow and your head throws as far back as it could go.

“You’re close,” he softly speaks into your ear, his pace never slowing. “I can feel you getting close.”

“Please, please,” you beg.

Chenle’s fingers quicken on your clit, as his other hand grabs yours to intertwine your fingers with his and place them next to your head. Your other hand grips his bicep as your thighs start to twitch again.

“Come on. Do it,” he presses his forehead into your temple, as whimpers and pleads start falling from your lips.

It feels embarrassing how fast you’re cumming around his cock, but with how good it felt, you couldn't hold out any longer. His name is the last thing on your tongue as your second orgasm takes over all senses and muscles in your body.

Chenle slows his pace but keeps moving as he mouths at the side of your neck, creating more marks as you’re high on pleasure from him.

“Welcome back,” he smiles into your skin after releasing it from between his teeth. His lips move to your jaw as the hand on his arm loosens its grip.

“Hi,” your voice is light and floaty as Chenle lifts his head to look at you. The sweat on his forehead makes his hair wet and sticks his bangs to his skin.

His face is bright red as you lift your hand to push his hair back, running your nails against his scalp.

“You feel good?” he asks as he was barely moving. His hips move back and forth just enough to feel something instead of him being still.

“Very,” you smile at him before slipping your hand out from his and using both of them to push him over onto his back with you in his lap, never disconnecting. “It’s your turn now.”

Chenle’s eyes widen as you lean down to give him one kiss, which he eagerly accepts before you rise to your knees to drag him half out of you just to harshly sit back down. You happily swallow the moan that comes out of his mouth as you start to bounce on his dick.

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses as you lean yourself back to rest your hands on his chest, wanting to make him feel as good as he made you.

His fingers dig into the sides of your thighs as you ride him, his own thighs starting to shake as his face scrunches up from pleasure. The feeling of his cock throbbing and twitching inside you makes you want even more — despite all that he already gave you.

Your slurred name comes from his mouth giving you the power boost you need to keep up your own pace, ignoring the burning in your thighs. His eyes shut tight as his head rolls to the side. His short, blunt nails were definitely leaving crescent-shaped marks on your skin, but you’re too riled up to care.

You lean down to kiss his jaw, as he sputters out curses and moans while you keep grinding down on his cock. Trying to give him a mind-blowing orgasm like he had given you, you clench around him.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck-” he cries out as his hands slide up to your waist, grip tightening as your mouth went up to his ear.

“Cum, baby,” you duck down just enough to kiss the skin right under his ear. “Cum inside me.”

You give him a low breathy moan that apparently pushes him just over the edge. His entire body stilling and trembling as you feel him cum inside you.

Gasps fly out of his mouth as he slowly opens his eyes. The look on his face is one of lustful intoxication. His hands come up to your face to pull you back over to his mouth to give you a kiss as he rides out his own high.

“Holy shit,” he mutters as you smirk down at him.

“You feel good?” You ask him the same thing he asked you.

He scoffs and blinks a few times, “I think I literally lost my mind for a moment.”

You lean over to kiss his cheek, beaming from the praise as you slowly raise yourself to slide his softening dick out of your pussy. Being careful not to overstimulate him with how sensitive he had to be.

Before flopping back down next to him, you grab your phone from your discarded pants to check the time. Instead, you’re greeted with a few texts from your other roommates.

Jeno 2:37 am

Where are you?

Haechan 2:38 am

Did you leave with Chenle?

Jeno 2:40 am

Could’ve at least let us know you were leaving, we thought you were kidnapped.

Jeno 2:42 am

Well, have fun.

Haechan 2:45 am

Use protection ;)

You stifle a laugh as you toss your phone back to the side as Chenle looks over at you while slipping his boxers back on.

“What’s up?” He asks as he leans back on his elbows. His face is still relaxed and his eyes half-lidded, obviously still in post-orgasm bliss.

“Jeno and Haechan were wondering where we were,” you answer him as you go to find your underwear, but grimace when you feel something wet slide down the inside of your thighs.

Biting your lip, you look over at Chenle, “You got anything to clean myself up with?”

He twists his mouth and squints his right eye as he tilts his head back and forth, “I got some napkins in the car, but… I have a better idea.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Which is? I’m not a fan of being sticky.”

Chenle smirks at you as he leans over to kiss you, pushing you down on your back again.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be clean in a few minutes.”

#chenle smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #chenle x reader #kpop smut #nct hard hours #chenle scenarios #nct scenarios

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belladonazeppole · 2 months

Text

The Other Side

(This takes inspiration by @adyophene "The Greatest Showcat" art, part 2 is coming soon!! The Other Side and Rewrite the Stars are such royalflush songs.)

Let's begin, shall we?

'Right here, right now I put the offer out.' Maybe it was the booze, 'I don't wanna chase you down I know you see it, you run with me and I can cut you free.' But even if it was, what he was saying is true, Lucifer wanted to see Husk free and would help him.

'Out of the drudgery and walls you keep in so trade that typical for something colorful.' Even he could see that Husk grump and uncaring behaviour was a mask, well some of it, but that the demon cat was more than that.

And Lucifer wanted to help him to show it.

So he would take the leap.

'And if it's crazy, live a little crazy you can play it sensible, a king of conventional or you can risk it all and see.' Yes it was insane and a silly idea but for the stars he desire that everybody could see Husk as he does.

In a bold move Lucifer holds Husk hands, 'Don't you wanna get away from the same old part you gotta play cause I got what you need, so come with me and take the ride.' He knew that Husk was more than just a drunk and Alastor companion maybe if people see him as he did Husk.

A true showman.

He let go of his hands in summons his cane. He would do this right, 'It'll take you to the other side! Cause you can do like you do or you can do like me stay in the cage, or you'll finally take the key.'

He make him free again.

He opens his wings and jumps, 'Oh, damn, suddenly you're free to fly! It'll take you to the other side." He offers his hand, waiting for Husk.

Lucifer smiles when Husk took it.

And then gets confused when he pulled him down.

'Okay, my friend, you want to cut me in well, I hate to tell you, but it just won't happen.' Husk say as kindly as he could. He can see what the king was trying to do and he apreciates he truly does but he can't let this go beyond an idea. He just can't, 'So thanks, but no I think I'm good to go cause I quite enjoy the life you say I'm trapped in.'

He doesn't.

He hates his life.

The chains.

The fakes smiles.

All that fucking bullshit.

But Husk doesn't want to involve Lucifer in his mess.

'Now I admire you, and that whole show you do you're onto something, really it's something but I live among the wanes, and we don't pick up apples.' He sounded like an asshole and ungrateful for refusing such offer but if that could destroy that fantasy so beat.

Even if it make hating himself even more.

'I'll have to leave that up to you.' He has to break it. 'Don't you know that I'm okay with this downtown part I get to play, cause I got what I need and I don't want to take the ride." He would keep playing as Alastor pet since he belong to the radio demon.

But god, he can't see Lucifer, 'I don't need to see the other side so go and do like you do I'm good to do like me ain't in a cage, so I don't need to take the key.' He wasn't in a cage but chains were the key didn't exist.

Since he would never let him go.

'Oh, damn, can't you see I'm doing fine. I don't need to see the other side' Since the only side that existed for Husk was under him.

He needs to leave, he was ready to run away from the king.

But the king wouldn't let him go so easy.

Lucifer crossed his arms and looked at Husk, 'Now is this really how you like to spend your days? Whiskey and misery, and loneliness and gambles.' He knew that Husk was trying to get him to forget about the idea but the king won't let him.

He wouldn't give up without a fight.

Neither does Husk.

'If I were mixed up with you, I'd be the talk of the city. Disgraced and disowned, another one of the clowns.' The sinner bitterly said at the king, he felt tired of refusing the possibility of happiness.

Even if he had to do low blows and hurt Lucifer in process.

It hurt that Husk said that. Lucifer knew how his inaction hurt the family reputation, 'But you would finally live a little, finally laugh a little just let me give you the freedom to dream and it'll wake you up and cure your aching.' But he won't give up and let him pushing him away.

He watch it how Husk was started to leave, he needs to said something soon, 'Take your walls and start 'em breaking now that's a deal that seems worth taking but I guess I'll leave that up to you.' He make his offer hoping that Husk accept it.

Lucifer would make this gamble and make it highroller.

'Well, it's intriguing, but to go would cost me greatly.' Fine he would entertain him, 'So what percentage of the show would I be taking?'

At smirk forms in the king face, 'Well, fair enough, you'd want a piece of all the action I'd give you seven, we could shake and make it happen.' He was joking of course, Lucifer would give him everything to his friend but a little banter never hurt anyone.

'I wasn't born this morning, eighteen would be just fine.' The sinner said with a smile, he was an gambler after all, and you can only win if the stakes gets higher.

'Why not just go ahead and ask for nickels on the dime?'

'Thirthy.' Husk wanted more, he started to walk closer to the king.

'I'd do twenty.' Please ask me for more the king mentally beg.

'Forty.' He was getting closer to what he desire.

'Maybe thirty.' I'll give you everything.

'Fifty.' His ultimate fantasy. An equal partnership. Husk waited for Lucifer finally laugh at his face.

But it never came.

He just smirks and Husk just knew that he accept his "offer."

In that moment something click in their minds and the both fly in joy, 'Don't you wanna get away to a whole new part you're gonna play.' In that moment Husk just let his body and mind going allow with the fallen angel, 'Cause I got what you need, so come with me and take the ride to the other side.'

'So if you do like I do.' Lucifer said while making some ducks made of light appear, 'So if you do like me.' Husk in retaliation pulls his hat and a little Lucifer puppet comes out.

The king smiles at the trick which make Husk smile in return and If the king wanted to see his magic he would show him one hella of a show.

Just for him.

And maybe himself.

They were flying like idiots, making magic tricks and laughing of said tricks, 'Forget the cage, cause we know how to make the key.' But it didn't matter since in that single moment Husk was free again.

He wasn't chained to him.

Him won't run this fantasy.

This moment was his.

'Oh, damn, suddenly we're free to fly we're going to the other side.' For a moment they were free of everything, from expectetion and the chains it was just the two of them.

They felt peace.

'So if you do like I do'

In synch with eachother.

'So if you do like me.'

Their spark once again was ignate.

'Cause if we do we're going to the other side.'

They were unstopable in that moment.

They were the winners.

'We're going to the other side.'

#hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #husk #husker #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #royalflush #lucihusk #lucifer x husk #this how their relationship started #makes some small changes in the song to fit mlre

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dreamcubed · 9 months

Text

call it what you want | draco malfoy x reader

song; call it what you want [taylor swift] pairing; draco malfoy x fem!muggle!reader genre; fluff, angst, forbidden love, s2l word count; 4,3k timeline; post-second wizarding war warnings; draco's daddy issues, low-key y/n's daddy issues, references to the second wizarding war (and draco's part in it), discrimination (of muggleborns) summary; his entire life, draco had it drilled into him that anything to do with muggles was bad- impure, even. but after his father is imprisoned for life, he decides to venture into the muggle world- just as a temporary thing, of course

suggested by @tendous-pretty-hair !!

masterlist

"my baby's fly like a jet stream, high above the whole scene, loves me like i'm brand new."

also i have fucking eras tour tickets!!!

—————————————————

Draco had found himself at an emotional stand-still ever since the Second Wizarding War - more specifically the events of the Battle of Hogwarts. After he had regrettably joined Voldemort's side in the mass fallout, only for him to lose anyway. He wasn't sentenced to any time in Azkaban, since it was deemed that he had been coerced into the situation, as backed up by his mother, who had been pardoned due to saving Harry Potter's life in the final moments. His father, however, would never feel the light of happiness again, caged away in the breeding ground of fear.

It wasn't that Draco missed Lucius all that much, in fact, quite the opposite. The time away from him had allowed him and Narcissa to grow closer, and also given him the opportunity to properly question and break down the beliefs that had been hammered into his head since infancy.

Eventually, he decided to step foot into unknown territory: muggle London. He had only ever been to the magic side of it before, but he had come to the realisation that living such a sheltered life was the reason he wound up another of Voldemort's slaves. That lifestyle would be no more.

He found himself stood outside of a small music store, displayed to have vinyls, CDs and cassette tapes inside - whatever they were. Draco did know what music was, however, and wanted to understand the way that muggles experienced it. So, he stepped foot into the shop with the tinkling of a tiny silver bell above him alerting whoever was working behind the tall overflowing shelves.

There were more people perusing the shelves than he had anticipated, so he ducked his head down and headed to an emptier area of the shop. As he began scanning the labels on the shelves, his confusion grew as he realised that he recognised none of the names.

"You don't look like a death metal fan," a voice to his left caught him by surprise, making him jump.

He turned around to have his eyes meet the gaze of a woman wearing an amused smile. You couldn't help but laugh slightly at his skittishness.

"Forgive me, but it's not everyday we have a man dressed in a perfectly ironed suit come and check out the works of Morbid Angel."

After his brain caught up to him, he said, "You work here?"

You nodded, "Family business - me and my mum."

Draco didn't reply to your statement, turning back to the shelves.

"You seem a little lost, first time in a music shop?"

"Uh- yeah," he said, "My family never played music growing up." That was a lie - the Malfoys had held many a musical event, however, they took the form of private orchestral bands.

"You're joking," your expression was that of shock, "How have you lived such a musicless life?"

He shrugged.

"God, I was practically raised on music- I mean, obviously," you gestured around you, "It's everything to me."

"My father was a very strict man," he said simply, making you hum.

"I see. God, I just can't believe you've hardly listened to music - we have to change that," you said, "Do you have any idea what sort of sounds you like?"

"I think I like classical music," it was all he had ever really known.

You grinned, "Yeah, that definitely suits the way you're dressed more than death metal. Come on, I'll set you up with some stuff. Vinyls, CDs or tapes?"

From what he could gather, vinyls were the larger circles, and he was pretty sure that Malfoy Manor had a phonograph with the large brass tube attached for the purpose of playing them. Like the one he saw at the Yule Ball all those years ago. "Uh, vinyl? The big black disc?"

You bobbed your head, "They're becoming less popular these days - people mostly want CDs," you then paused for a moment, "Although my mum said they'll probably have a resurgence in another twenty years. Making an aesthetic of past trends and all that."

Draco listened curiously as you babbled on about different musicians, bands, and albums, finding himself enraptured by the way you carried yourself. Salazar, his father would throw a fit if he found out that he was willingly talking to a muggle.

But his father wasn't there.

"So, do any of these interest you?" you finished, smiling at the ever stoic man before you.

"Uh, yes- all of them," he wasn't sure if he liked the music genre you suggested or the way you talked so passionately.

"All of them?" you tilted your head, "That's- like- hundreds of pounds."

He began digging around in his pockets for the money he had exchanged earlier before coming, and your eyes widened at the sight of all the twenty pound notes.

"Right," you said in a state of shock, "I'll... ring these up for you."

As you totalled up the price and packaged the vinyls into a bag over at the till, the man watched you, as if he was meticulously detailing your every move. Weirdly, it didn't feel creepy.

"Okay that will be... £404.39," you said, in awe of the fact he seemed unfazed by the number.

He began counting out the notes, before handing them over to you: £420 worth of twenty pound notes in your hand. You counted the change out and handed it back to him, placing the receipt in the bag.

"Thank you for shopping here, come again..." you trailed off, realising you didn't know his name.

"Draco," he said, stopping himself before saying his last name. Although he knew that you wouldn't recognise it anyway.

You couldn't help but think that he had a peculiar name; regardless, you smiled, and said, "Y/N. Please come again."

He nodded, taking the bag and leaving the shop swiftly without so much as looking back once.

***

A week passed by and Draco found himself stood outside of the record shop, unsure of why he had returned. During his last visit he had purchased months worth of music, so really he had no need to be back.

Except, he did.

His social circle had been non-existent ever since the Battle of Hogwarts, not because Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott no longer wanted to be friends with him, but because he had isolated himself in Malfoy Manor with his mother. Draco was nearing being ready to owl them again, but reconnecting with them meant inevitably having to unpack the events of the war.

With a muggle stranger like you, however, there was no unpacking to do.

"Draco, you're back," you grinned, coming out from behind the till, "I was hoping you would."

"Why?"

His abrupt question caught you off guard, "Well, I- I don't know. You're an interesting character," that and you thought he was cute.

Draco stared blankly at you, making you shift uncomfortably on your feet. Eventually, you decided to change the subject.

"Here for more music?"

"Oh, uh- yes."

"Well, what were your favourites from last week's purchases?"

After he told you which ones he had enjoyed the most, you were able to develop some kind of idea as to specific kinds of music to indulge him into. Of course, you had a question burning at the back of your mind that you simply had to ask.

"If you don't mind me asking, what do you do for a living?"

He looked up at you with slightly furrowed eyebrows.

"It's just- vinyls aren't cheap, especially not in as large a quantity as you get them," you elaborated, "I assume you have a well paying job."

Draco sighed, shaking his head, "Family money."

"You mean old money?" you couldn't help but clarify.

He reluctantly nodded, "Yes, old money." He used to be so boastful and prideful of the Malfoy family legacy, but in that moment, despite you having no idea who he was, he could only feel shame when he thought of it.

"Okay, Mr. Fancy," you chuckled, "Let's continue your musical adventure."

Even as you proceeded to serve him with a chipper attitude, you couldn't help but be saddened by learning that he was old money. There was no way that you stood a chance, since old money families liked to marry each other and not someone who was simply the daughter of a small record shop.

At least you learned that piece of information about him early on, you reasoned.

***

"Back? Again?" you questioned incredulously, spying Draco stood in the doorway of your shop, "Hate to turn you away, but we're about to close."

"I know."

You paused, frowning slightly as you grasped hold of the door, "Uh, okay, then... bye?" You began slowly shutting the door.

"Wait."

Again, you paused.

"I need help."

Opening the door fully again, you placed a hand on your hip as you said, "With regards to what?"

You didn't know what to think when he presented a small battered flip phone to you on his milky white palm.

"A phone?"

"I found it. On the floor."

"Musta fell outta someone's pocket," you shrugged, "Happens - why do you need help?"

"Well, don't we need to do something about it?"

All you could do was look at him curiously.

"Is that not- is that not what you do?" maybe he was overcompensating for his past by trying desperately to do one small good deed, or maybe he was trying to prove to you that he was a good person even though you had no reason to believe otherwise. Either way, he wanted to return the muggle contraption to its rightful owner.

"I mean- I guess? If you're feeling nice," you said simply, "Can't lie, I'd probably leave it for someone else to deal with."

"How do I return it?"

You sighed, "Just call the last person they called."

"Right, okay."

Much to your confusion, Draco stared at the device as if he was trying to will it into doing what he wanted.

"You do know how to call someone, yes?" you asked, your arms now folded across your chest.

With a sigh of defeat, he shook his head.

You rolled your eyes, stepping aside, "Come in."

Once Draco was inside your shop, you shut the door and flipped the sign from 'open' to 'closed'.

"Give it," you made a grabbing motion with your fingers, and the man before you immediately handed over the device, "It's really easy-" he watched in amazement as you flipped open the phone, "-just use the arrow buttons here to go to call history- and, oh, look! Last person they called was their mum- press the green call button and bam."

You presented the now dialling phone to him.

"They have been notified now?"

"Well, her phone will be ringing- hopefully she'll pick up."

"Pick up?"

"Hello?" a voice from the phone announced, "Cadie?"

"Hello, ma'am, your daughter dropped her phone and we found it."

"Oh, I see. Thank you- I'll let her know so she can pick it up. Where's a good place?"

As you told the concerned mother the address of your record shop, you watched Draco's intrigued expression.

You hung up, placing the phone on a nearby surface and beginning to walk to the back room, "Would you like some tea?" you asked.

He stared blankly at you for a few moments, before nodding, "Please."

"How do you take it?"

"No milk, one sugar."

You chuckled to yourself at his strange way of having tea.

***

Draco watched you as you chatted mindlessly while sipping your tea, almost entirely forgetting that he had his own cup sat to his side. Your topics were classically boring - yet so interesting to him. He was enthralled to learn about the different characters in your family, and the trials and tribulations of your school years. He hadn't even realised how little he had said until you pointed it out.

"What about you?"

"Hm?" he went, snapping out of his daze.

"I feel like I've just been talking about myself this entire time. Where did you go to school?"

"Oh- uh-" he desperately pulled together all his thoughts, "A private boarding school in Scotland."

Your mouth dropped open, "Wow, that's cool."

He shrugged.

"Did you miss your family while you were away all year?"

Again, he shrugged, "My mother, yes- my father... not so much."

"I don't see my father at all," you added, to make him feel more comfortable about sharing details of his own father, "I used to... but I realised it was always me reaching out and not him so I stopped. Haven't heard from him since."

Draco nodded, "My father is in prison."

He didn't know why he told you, only realising what he had just said when you froze for a few seconds with widened eyes.

"Can I ask what for?" you asked in a squeaky voice.

"Uh... terrorism, murder... that sort of thing," he had no clue why he was being so honest. Had you put veritaserum in the tea?

You cleared your throat, wanting to delicately change the subject but lacking a way on how to do it naturally. Draco observed you, and opened his mouth to say something more when a knock sounded on the door.

"That's- uh- that's probably the phone owner," you said quickly, rushing to your feet to run out of the back room and let them in.

You opened the door to be faced with a short brunette woman.

"Cadie?" you questioned.

She nodded, "You have my phone?"

"Yes, come in."

"Thank you so much- I really can't afford a new one right now," she sighed, "I'm always losing things."

You chuckled, "I know how you feel- I'm always breaking things."

Draco appeared in the doorway to the back and picked up the phone from the counter.

Cadie sighed happily, accepting the phone and thanking the both of you profusely.

"Seriously, you have no idea how appreciative I am."

"It's no trouble, Cadie, really," you assured her.

She paused for a moment, looking around. "Is this your shop?"

You bobbed your head, "Yes, it's family-owned."

"Oh, that's so cool," she looked towards Draco, "So this is your husband?"

You were so taken aback you couldn't even form a response. Before either of you could reply, the phone began ringing.

"It's my boss! I have to take this," she said, "Thank you so much again. You two are a cute couple." And with that final comment, she departed, leaving you and Draco in an awkward silence.

"I-" you began, but you were quickly interrupted.

"Go on a date with me," Draco hurriedly said, realising he had said it like an order rather than an innocent question. He was still in some ways his old bossy teenage self, socialised in a slightly abnormal way.

You took it in good humour, however, and smiled, "I would love to."

***

The following six months were filled with the fanciest and most luxurious dates that you could ever have possibly imagined: five star restaurants, weekends in Paris, and expensive gifts. It was heaven in all ways but one - Draco always had an excuse for you not meeting his family and friends.

For a while, you had ignored the itching feeling that he was ashamed of you and so kept you a secret, but your suspicions grew until you couldn't keep it in anymore. You had to confront him about it.

"...and I was thinking, we should go out for dinner with your mother," you said, flicking through a magazine as Draco sat on the sofa in your small but homely flat.

"When?" he asked.

"Whenever's good for her."

You heard Draco's breath hitch.

"What? Can't come up with an excuse to get out of this one?" your tone held evident bite.

Draco turned around to face you, but his expression was unreadable.

"Are you ashamed of me, Draco?"

His eyes widened.

"I know I'm not rich, let alone old money, but I'd like to think that I'm a likeable person."

He shook his head, "It's not that-"

"Then what is it, Draco?" you snapped, feeling tears fill up your eyes, "You won't even introduce me to your friends! How am I supposed to feel?"

He stood up and began shifting on his feet and fidgeting with his hands, "It's more complicated than that."

"What? You're engaged to someone else?"

Again, he shook his head, "No, nothing like that."

"Then what?" you waved your hands about, "Because I can't date someone who treats me like a secret."

"You wouldn't believe me!" he yelled, clearly unintentionally.

You were shocked: you had never heard him yell before. "Try me," you said, your voice low.

He sighed, moving around helplessly for a few moments before striding over to his bag by your front door. He reached his hand in - what appeared to be deeper than the bag's actual depth, but you dismissed it due to your blurred vision - and pulled out a blank piece of paper, tinged brown.

He came over to you and placed it on the kitchen island you were stood behind, and pointed at the bottom of the page. "Sign here."

"It's blank," you thought he was insane.

"Just trust me. Please."

You gave him a skeptical look, but wiped your eyes and picked up a pen nonetheless, writing your signature in the area he pointed to. To your amazement, the second you finished the last letter of your name, writing appeared on the paper. As you scanned it, you were increasingly confused.

- By signing this non-disclosure agreement, you agree that as a muggle you shall not disclose the existence of wizardry and witchcraft to anyone not already in knowledge of it. You understand that by doing so, you would be breaking the law and could face potential criminalisation. The wizard or witch of whom has vouched for your approval to know of magic shall also face potential criminalisation in such a situation.

It will no longer be a criminal offence for wizards and witches to perform magic with you as a witness unless there are unapproved muggles also present.

You will be granted access to wizard-only areas including but not limited to Diagon Alley and Platfrom Nine and Three Quarters at King's Cross provided that you are accompanied by a wizard or witch. Please be aware that these permissions may vary in other countries depending on their laws surrounding muggle knowledge of magic and also their acceptance of the British Muggle Non-Disclosure Agreement.

Please sign your name below. -

"What is this?" you asked, your eyebrows furrowed.

"An NDA."

"Yes, I- I gathered that- but- what does it mean?"

"It means... that I'm a wizard."

Part of you wanted to burst out laughing at Draco's insane words, but the way he said it held so much depth that you couldn't help but take it seriously.

"Prove it."

You didn't know what you had expected, but you certainly didn't anticipate your boyfriend pulling out a wand and muttering what sounded like Latin under his breath.

The pen on the table before you morphed into a feather.

There were really no words to describe how you felt in that moment. You asked him to do it again - he turned the feather into a sharpener. You asked him to do it one more time - he turned the sharpener into a fork.

"Oh my God," you said at the volume of a whisper, stepping back and falling against the counter behind you, "What the actual fuck."

"I know this may come as a shock to you..."

"Really?" you said, "No, actually. Not freaking out at all. Not even a little."

He pursed his lips, "My family is what is known as pure-bloods. We haven't mixed with muggles when it comes to reproduction at any point in our bloodline - allegedly."

You stared at him.

"Sometimes, a witch or wizard can be born of muggle parents - we call them muggle-borns. Half-bloods make up the most of wizarding society - their ancestors are a mix of muggle, muggle-born, pure-blood and half-blood."

At your lack of speech, he continued.

"There is a culture of supremacy among pure-blood families - choosing to reproduce only with other pure-bloods to ensure the pure-blooded line continues as they believe themselves to be the only true witches and wizards."

"You're pure-blood," you mumbled.

Draco nodded, "I used to think like that. Used to bully muggle-borns in school - the school I went to being specifically for witches and wizards."

"You don't think like that anymore?"

"No," he quickly said, "I've had a lot of time to question everything I was taught to believe - but, I- there's something really bad I have to tell you. It may change your opinion of me forever and it's the reason why I have kept you away from my family and friends."

You nodded, mentally preparing yourself for what he was about to tell you.

"Years ago, there was a war in the wizarding world..." he began.

***

You had never seen Draco in tears before, but when he reached the details of the final showdown between Harry Potter (a heroic celebrity in the wizarding world) and Lord Voldemort (a wizard terrorist), he broke down in sobs as he recalled him walking over to the latter's side. Tears were falling down your cheeks soon too, and you quickly brought Draco into your arms and felt him collapse into you.

"I regret it every single day," he said through sobs, "Why didn't I have more of a backbone?"

"You were just a boy, Draco," you soothed him, "You didn't want your family to be killed."

He cried harder.

"My opinion of you is not changed - by the sounds of it you never actually killed anyone yourself," you thought back to the Professor Dumbledore section of the story, "In fact, it sounds like you couldn't bring yourself to."

"I can never make up for my past, Y/N."

You stroked his hair, "You dating a muggle is pretty solid evidence you're trying to."

"I'm not dating you because you're muggle," he pulled back from you and looked you in the eyes.

You chuckled slightly, wiping the tears off his cheeks with your thumbs, "That's not what I was saying. Young you would have never even considered entering the muggle world, and yet here adult you is."

He gave you a small smile, "I love you."

You beamed, but teardrops were still cascading down your cheeks, "I love you too."

"Let's have dinner with my mother on Sunday."

***

"Mr Malfoy, you may see your father now," the Azkaban worker said, who Draco couldn't help but think reminded him strongly of Filch. An old miserable man with long scraggly hair, an unmissable limp, and filthy dark-coloured robes. Then again, at least this worker had a reason to be miserable all the time: working in the breeding ground of fear and desolation. Filch was by all means in a much more cheerful environment.

Draco nodded at him, and followed his lead down shadowed narrow corridors, caked in dirt and dust. They turned a few corners and went up a few sets of dangerously steep stairs before reaching a cell block with moans and whines coming from every cell - except one.

In all honesty, Draco hadn't known what to expect when he came to see his father: he hadn't visited once since his arrest. But Lucius looked quite different than the proud man he once was, with his once well-kept long blond hair being knotty and entwined with filth, and his once healthy (albeit pale) complexion being overly skinny with sallow sunken features. He looked up at his son, still being able to produce a slight scowl.

"So, you finally decided to visit," he drawled, but his voice was too broken to hold the same threat it used to.

"Yes, father, I have some things I need to say to you," despite Lucius' weakened state, Draco still held some lifelong fear of the man, but he had to remain strong in front of him.

"And what would that be?"

"I have a girlfriend, and I plan to propose to her."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, "Your mother has not mentioned this," Narcissa frequently visited her husband.

"She didn't find out until last week."

After some seconds of silence, Lucius slowly rose to his feet and stood face-to-face with Draco at the cell gate. "What is her name?"

"Y/N L/N."

"L/N does not ring a bell. Which bloodline is she from?"

Draco felt intimidated by his father's close proximity, but still managed a smirk, "She isn't of pure blood, Father."

Lucius' eyes widened, "You don't mean to say she's- half blood? Or worse- a- a mudblood?"

"Worse," his smirk grew, "She's muggle."

The ghostly shock that flooded over Lucius' face made Draco feel a triumph over his father he had never felt before, and gave him the confidence to feel as though he had the upper hand in their interaction. He stepped closer to the cell and lowered his voice.

"And I'm going to marry her, and have children with her, and you will have to spend the rest of your life rotting in this cell knowing that the Malfoy pure blood line has been permanently tainted."

"You can't do this," Lucius said through gritted teeth, "After everything we fought for."

Draco hummed, "See, I thought it was time for me to finally fight for something good."

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masterlist

written; 02/06/2023 —> 17/07/2023 published; 17/07/2023 edited; —/—/——

taglist ; @workinatdapyramid @iluvweasleys

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