#dk fluff

"You said we'd go to lunch and we've been here for an hour and a half," he whines, popping another grape into his mouth as you scowl.

"I just moved in, Soonyoung. I have nothing at my apartment and don't forget, you begged me to tag along. I told you I'd swing by your place after I was done!" You scold, only for him to stick his tongue out at you as you toss a sack of apples into the cart, nibbling on your lip as you peruse the produce. Your list was crumpled and long forgotten in Soonyoung's jacket pocket, and the blond groaned loudly as you tentatively picked up a pineapple and brought it to your face, "quit that before I send you to go sit in my car."

"At least the car has AUX." "Kwon Soonyoung, I mean it."

"Alright, alright…" he trails off, sighing as he looks around the supermarket. You place the pineapple into the cart, the scent sweet and lingering as you cross your arms before Soonyoung's gasp grabs your attention.

"What? What? Is it an old teacher? Are they pregnant?" You look up, your eyes darting around the produce section before Soonyoung's hand grabs your jaw gently and tilts it towards the pile of 'organic plums' — your eyes landing on a white shirt stretched exhaustingly across the broad expanse of shoulders far too familiar. Your jaw tenses at the sleeves that leave nothing for the imagination, straining against toned biceps as your eyes travel further, a slim waist cinched by a black belt and holding up a nice pair of light blue denim jeans. A wallet is tucked into the back pocket and you follow the movement of the arm tying up a plastic produce bag full of said plums — decorated in a singular silver ring on the pinky and a thick watch on the wrist.

"Lee Seokmin, in the flesh!" He calls, and you feel your face hot as said Lee Seokmin turns around, a bright smile spreading on his face as he spots Soonyoung as his hand drops from your face. He makes his way over, the basket in his hand flexing the tendons in his forearm as he gives Soonyoung a one-armed hug, "good to see you, buddy. Did you get a chance to catch up with Seungkwan? We're planning that dinner next month with the guys, it'd be really great to get everyone together…"

He trails off as he sees you standing next to him, a softness glazing over his eyes as he extends his hand to you, "My apologies, I didn't see you. You look…familiar."

You hadn't changed much from high school. Maybe grew a couple of spontaneous inches, learned how to properly do your makeup, stopped acting like you didn't care about other's perception of you and actually put an effort into being more social. He tilts his head as Soonyoung shoves your shoulder, your hands twitching at the hem of your denim miniskirt you'd foolishly worn in the biting Wisconsin wind.

"Sorry," you mumble, taking his hand and giving it a quick shake. "We went to prom together."

"Oh my God, so it's true! I heard that you'd moved back home but I wasn't sure if Yoon Jeonghan of all people was worth getting my news from," he rolls his eyes, before the smile on his lips grows slightly warmer. "It's good to see you, Y/N. You look…nice."

"You hesitated." Soonyoung huffs, shoving his friend's shoulder. "Coward."

"Soonyoung," you elbow him, pressing your lips into a firm line as you nod at Seokmin. "It's fine. You look great, I'm glad to see this town did someone well."

Soonyoung pouts at the insinuation that he's not that someone, making you snicker inwardly as Seokmin eyes you carefully. Like he's studying you, like something is different and he can't figure out what.

"Are you settling in okay? Is Soonyoung being helpful?" He asks, leaning against the apple display, hooking his thumb on his belt loop. You tongue your cheek as you look up at Soonyoung, who acts like the Virgin Mary herself is calling his name as he clears his throat, "oh, look. They have…uh…rotisserie chicken. I'll get you one! You guys catch up!"

He scurries off, and you just shake your head as you move stuff around in the cart.

"I'm settling in fine. I only came back to spend time with my parents, Gyu moved out to go to grad school, but I'm sure you knew that." You shrug, "Soonyoung is Soonyoung. He helped me unload the boxes from the moving truck but I'm taking the weekend and next week to unpack. Just me and a glass of whiskey on the rocks…or two, or three."

You smile as he nods, "do you need help? I'm free all weekend."

"Oh, I'm alright." You respond quickly, almost too quickly. "I've uh…become quite the collector of things. Things I don't exactly need everyone to know I like."

"Vintage Playboy magazines, huh?" "Shut up!"

He laughs softly, his eyes forming crescents as he glances down at the cart, "have you met up with anyone from here?"

The question stings slightly, but you force yourself to brush it off as you shake your head. "No one to meet up with besides Soonyoung, you know. Wasn't always that good at keeping bad company around, you know me."

He does.

He does know you.

The thing about Lee Seokmin is that he knew everything there was to know except where you went the moment you peeled out of this stupid town — small and not at all living up to the Pleasant Hill name. Wisconsin was still Wisconsin, and you still loved the cheese curds from Culver's but the fact of the matter was that Lee Seokmin was likely the only memory you allowed yourself to revisit when you thought about this stupid place.

Sweet, understanding Seokmin that graduated the same year Mingyu did. Sweet, understanding Seokmin that was so cute and absolutely your (and all your friends') hallway crush from grades six through eleven, before you got a boyfriend halfway through your junior year. He still waved at you in the halls, and you still smiled back — but eventually, the boyfriend grew tall enough to block your line of vision and the idea of Seokmin melted from your mind.

You met Seokmin when you were nine years old. He'd been your brother's friend for ages but only when you were in fourth grade was Seokmin officially allowed to come over to your house to spend the night with Mingyu. Your brother would lock his bedroom door as his friends huddled over baseball cards and delicious sandwiches made by your father with the crusts cut off. Eventually, your friend Minghao made it into your brother's get-togethers — effectively rendering you hypoethetically friendless until one of the boys slipped out of Mingyu's room for snacks or water, or even to suck up to your father for an extra serving of dinner before bolting back into the room.

Before Seokmin came around, you had Jihoon, Soonyoung and Minghao — they usually huddled up with you at the dinner table and asked about your friends and your schoolwork. They'd ruffle your hair, they'd pinch your cheeks and steal home fries off your breakfast plate; so they were like three more version of Mingyu you never asked for, but loved nonetheless. You'd swat at them, shove them away before they inevitably got picked up and left you to get thrown around by Mingyu on the trampoline in your backyard as he debriefed all the girls that they liked that were in your grade.

Then, Seokmin moved in next door.

His family bought the beautiful brick two-story with a wrap-around porch that once housed the town doctor before he up and took off out West, chasing a wild wet dream (read: his mistress.)

He was suddenly over at your house every single day, glued at Mingyu's hip — tossing a pigskin around, tinkering around under the hood of your mother's 1969 Cadillac Deville…bothering your father for a sandwich with the crusts cut off because Mingyu was a big baby. He'd split it with your brother on the porch and ask about your day as you stomped up the steps after dance practice. You'd never delve too deep into details, simply shaking your head or giving him a thumbs up before ducking inside and burying your head in the books.

Mingyu and his friends graduated, going all over the country for college — but Seokmin stayed. He went to state school to stay close to his parents, but not so close that he didn't get that same taste of freedom that your brother and Minghao were enjoying at Rutgers in New Jersey. You were a senior in high school, trying to make the best of all the changes — only for it to be the worst year an 18-year-old girl could have.

You got (and crashed) your first car, which was Mingyu's before it was yours so it had that gross 'I give my friends rides home from football practice' smell permeated in the seats. You failed your first semester of Calculus and had to go to tutoring and Saturday school for six weeks to even attempt to earn a C. You injured your foot during practice and got benched for the rest of the year, so there was nothing to look forward to (not that they would've kept you on the team anyway, since you failed Calculus.)

To top it all off — your best friend and your boyfriend were in cahoots. Six years of friendship (and her gross crush on Mingyu) and almost a year and a half of dating were wasted, and both presented their end three weeks before prom — which was two days before graduation.

You'd stared at your dress for a good while the night before it was all supposed to happen. It'd been hung up on your closet door, the one thing you looked forward to after such a shit year that wasn't graduation — and it was sullied. The sparkly butter yellow tulle made your stomach hurt, the sweetheart neckline littered with glittering rhinestones making your eyes prickle with tears. You stared at the French pedicure you'd gotten at your local nail salon that would've peeked out the bottom of your dress — your shoes six-inch tall heels and the straps were decorated with flowers.

You were a nominee for Prom Queen. You had your hair and makeup inspiration saved to a Pinterest board you'd been curating since you found out prom was a thing that would happen in your life. Your ex-boyfriend's matching tie and corsage sat on your dresser, abandoned. You didn't have a date, and now an extra ticket to a gathering you weren't sure you wanted to attend.

Until Mingyu knocked on your door.

He'd come home from college for the summer a week earlier, making the drive back to Wisconsin right after his last final. He dropped Minghao off at his house, and skirted right into the driveway of your house, welcomed lovingly by his parents and confused when his little sister was holed up in her room, staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to her ceiling.

"I'd go with you if I could, pipsqueak." He said softly, sitting on the edge of your bed as you let hot tears pool in your eyes. "But I know you'd think that's mega lame."

"It is mega lame. Gyu." Your voice had been so thick you could hardly understand yourself, but he squeezed your ankle through the blanket before sighing. "Mingyu, why has this year been so shit? Was your senior year this shitty?"

"Well." He adjusted slightly, "I got dumped because I chose Rutgers over staying here, and I had to take Minghao to prom. We still had a good time…maybe you can take Soonyoung. He's in town again, I know he swung by earlier to see how you were holdin' up."

"I look like such a loser taking a friend to my fucking prom. It was supposed to be me and my boyfriend." You huffed, angrily wiping at your eyes. "I don't even have a cute guy that I could pretend is into me."

The silence that blanketed over you both was deafening, before you met each other's eyes in that way siblings do when something is so good but it's crazy. It's so good, and it'd work so well — but it's absolutely insane.

Mingyu grabbed the tie and corsage while you practically tumbled down the stairs in your pajamas, running out the front door and across the lawn barefoot as the sprinklers started going off. You banged on the front door of the Lee house, hearing rustling before the door swung open and your fist was caught by one Lee Seokmin.

"Go to prom with me."

Naturally — as a favor to an old friend's little sister, Seokmin agreed. He blindly agreed as Mingyu instructed him to be your arm candy all night long, to show you off, let you be the star of the show. Pretend that an older boyfriend in college was far more interesting than some cheap party thrown together by the school in a fancy hotel — essentially, make you something worth envying.

It worked.

It worked like a dream — he stayed by your side the entire night, speaking softly to other dates, getting along with your dance team members, even greeting his old teachers with a bright smile that made them forget he was there with a student and wasn't one himself. They asked if he was your boyfriend, and you interrupted with a loud yes — his cheeks tinging pink as he held you close and kissed your temple. It was sweet, it was cute, and it was triumph coursing through your veins as you were crowned Prom Queen and left right after.

You sat in your mother's '69 Cadillac Deville with him, parked at a Dairy Queen on the outskirts of town with a sweet vanilla milkshake in your hand. He's thrown his suit jacket in the backseat, the top button of his shirt undone and his tie haphazardly pulled off. He rolled his sleeves up, leaning his head back against the seat when you snorted.

"You know what's funny?" "What's funny, sweets?"

He toyed with the straw of his own milkshake, his silver watch glinting in the low light.

"You can't tell Mingyu I said this." "I wouldn't tell Mingyu anything that's happened tonight if he paid me."

"I was supposed to lose my virginity tonight," you roll your eyes, kicking your heels off and crossing your legs at the knee. You stare up at the sky, "I was going to go to a motel with him, my ex. Get it over with so that I wouldn't go to college a virgin. Stupid, isn't it?"

"If that's the only reason you were going to do it, then yeah. A little bit." He nodded, plucking the cherry out of his cup and pulling the syrupy fruit off the stem with his teeth. "But I'm not any better, so I can't judge because I'm speaking from experience."

"You're not a virgin? I thought you were." "Haven't been since last summer. Why are you even thinking about it? I'm nineteen. I do…things." "Sure, man. Was it good? Is that TMI?"

"No," he snorted, shaking his head as he sighed, sucking his teeth. "It was just…there. The opportunity, I mean. I wasn't dating the girl either. It was a mistake and I regret it but life goes on. It should be with someone you trust and actually like, it adds to it. I guess. What do I know?"

"Lots of stuff." "Name two things." "You know my favorite color and you know how to drive. I trust you with my life, I think."

He laughed then, shaking his head as he played with his straw, "yeah, well. I'm sorry your senior year turned out this way. If it's any better, mine was pretty shit, too."

"Nah. I'd say it ended pretty well. I'm eighteen, I have a license, I graduate on Sunday and then I'm gone. I'm off to California and I never have to see this shitstain town again." You shook your head, sucking your teeth as you twisted in your seat. His eyes were wide, "you hate it here that much?"

"I have no good memories." "That might be a stretch, but I understand." "Thank you." You shrugged, tracing the stitching in the leather. The thread was a custom cobalt blue, to match the exterior of the car and paired with creamy beige seats. "Hey, Seok?"

"Yeah?" "Do you remember how you used to say hi to me everyday before you graduated last year? In the halls?"

He smiled, and you swore you saw a hint of a blush creep up the shells of his ears as he nodded, "yeah, of course I remember."

"Why'd you do it?" "Because…I don't know. It was a habit, and I liked seeing you…I don't know. It's courteous." "When you say I don't know…you mean you do, but you don't want to tell me. Right?"

"Right." He agreed, and you leaned slightly closer, holding your pinky out to him. He glances at it, and you scoot closer to him on the bench seat so your thigh is brushing his as you push your hand into his space.

"Pinky promise I won't tell Mingyu." "Mingyu doesn't scare me anyway."

He rolled his eyes, but linked his finger with yours. You waited for him to let go, but he interlaced his fingers with yours and held them on this thigh.

"For starters, everything I said is also true." "I figured, yes." "I think…I had a little bit of a crush on you. Nothing insane, of course. Just…a little one. Hallway crush, I think I heard Mingyu call it once."

You shifted then, your hand subconsciously squeezing his as you cleared your throat.

"And you never said anything?" "You're my best friend's little sister. Even I saw the cliché there. It's not that…I wouldn't have made a move, I just didn't think it was a wise choice in the long run."

You nodded, "yeah…that makes sense."

Neither of you moved away or unfurled your fingers, but Seokmin sighed, "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. You're very right, Mingyu would've knocked our heads together." "…Our?"

"You think I waved back because it was courteous? Get with the program, Lee." You snorted, shaking your head as you stared up at the sky. The stars twinkled, almost mockingly as you sighed, "though, it's much worse with it's best friend who likes the little sister. It's kind of expected for the little sister to like the best friend, you know? Clichés and all that…always blamin' it on the girls. Like it's my fault Mingyu has cute friends."

"Plural?" "Singular, sorry."

"Would you have let me kiss you?" He asked suddenly, and you lolled your head to the side, scanning his face with your eyes before shrugging. "Y/N."

"Depends. Are you kissing me because you want to or because it gives you the rush of kissing your best friend's sister?" "Mostly the first." "Cynical." "I'm honest."

You laughed then, squeezing his hand before sitting up properly. You tucked your legs under you, the fabric of your dress hanging off the edge of the seat as you kneeled next to him, your knees pressing into his thigh as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Thanks for taking me to prom. You didn't have to." "I don't do these things for free, you know. Pay up, sixty bucks."

The smile on his lips said he was joking, but you feigned shock anyway and softly smacked his shoulder. He laughed, pulling his hand out of yours to wrap his arms around you. You let him pull you into his embrace, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you buried your face into his neck. He patted your back, humming softly before he spoke.

"Thanks for thinking I was the right choice to leave a lasting impression. College boyfriends don't do this sort of thing, at least none of the ones I know."

"Well, you're my college boyfriend for the night." You shrugged, pulling back slightly. Your eyes met his, your faces centimeters apart. He shamelessly glanced at your lips, shifting slightly, "I'm sorry I missed your birthday. I know Mingyu came home, I was slammed."

"Are you going to keep talking about my brother or are you going to kiss me?"

You try not to remember the kiss, or the soft scent of vanilla floating off both your mouths.

Quite often, you shove it out of your mind and force yourself to think about what could've been if he'd said no. If your mother had called just a moment earlier, before your lips met his. If your brother had texted him just three minutes before his hand cupped your face gently and pulled you closer, milkshakes forgotten as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

You never retell the story with the kiss included. You always just say your brother's best friend took you to prom and took you to milkshakes after. That he drove you through the outskirts of town in your mother's '69 Cadillac and made you feel like a princess.

Every single person lets you know that they think that 'brother's best friend' had a crush on you.

So to stand in this grocery store and know that Lee Seokmin has kissed you, has had a crush on you, has seen you cry — it feels vulnerable.

"Let's have dinner soon, if you're not busy. I'd love to catch up." He spoke softly, and Soonyoung was still acting stupid around the selection of rotisserie chicken, acting as if lemon herb and garlic rosemary were such hard choices. You gave Seokmin a small smile, holding up a finger as you called across the store, "pick a damn bird and get over here!"

Soonyoung pouted, grabbing one of each as you turned back to Seokmin. He was still looking at you with that same twinkle in his eyes, like he still wondered if you thought about him. If you thought about that night, if you thought about the sweet vanilla on his tongue as he kissed you for what felt like decades in the bench seat of your mother's car. If you thought about the way he pulled you into his lap, the way you pulled his hand up the expanse of your thigh that peeked out through the slit of your dress.

If you thought about the way he stopped kissing you before it could end the way most prom nights end — losing your virginity to him in a car. If you thought about how embarrassed he looked that he let himself get carried away, kissing down the slope of your neck and how he apologized because you were Mingyu's sister, because he was a year older than you and had more life lived, because, because, because.

Never in those reasons did he say because he didn't want to.

"We should, if you'd like. Uh, I'd offer my apartment but…" You rubbed your neck sheepishly, and he only shook his head, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening a new contact. He handed it to you, your fingers trembling as you typed in your number, "was Mingyu very annoying while I was gone?"

"He actually told me earlier that I'm not allowed call him annoying." Seokmin scoffs, "because I'm, in his words, ten times as annoying but I don't think that's all that true."

"It's not." "Of course you say that, he's your brother."

"Birds of a feather flock together, Seokmin. If you're annoying, so is he." You deadpan, typing your name into the contact file. "But, you're less annoying because I have no obligation to tolerate you. If you piss me off, I can just walk away. Can't do that with Mingyu, I'll just have to see him again. Family and all."

You roll your eyes, handing his phone back. He nods, "valid."

"I see you've gotten acquainted once more," Soonyoung tries to ease into the conversation, but frowns as you and Seokmin both point your eyes at him. "Yah, you'd think I asked about that stupid prom night kiss."

"Anyway." You speak quickly, your cheeks hot as Seokmin's ears tinge pink under the fluorescent lights of the supermarket, "uh, Friday? Does Friday work for you?"

"Friday's great!" He blurts, "we can just do it at yours. I don't think you should be unpacking all those boxes by yourself."

"She doesn't even have a mattress, Seokmin. A mattress!" Soonyoung exclaims, and you nibble on your lip in embarrassment as Seokmin shoves his shoulder lightly, "you should be helping her!"

Soonyoung scoffs, wrapping his hands around the cart handle and pushing it forward, "I don't have to take this shit from you guys. I'm the glue that holds this family together, damnit."

He stalks away, head held high as Seokmin shakes his head.

"He's dramatic." "Oh, tell me about it. He's been whining about how hungry he is when I told him this would take time."

You sigh, your face still hot as you take a tiny step back, "well, it was nice seeing you, Seokmin. Uh, Friday, yeah? I'll send you my address."

"Sure, sure." He nods, clearing his throat. Things feel awkward in the air between you, "sorry about Soonyoung."

"It shouldn't be awkward. It was years ago," you try, but still cover your face with your hands. "God, I'm sorry."

"No! It's okay, it was just…not something I was expecting today." His laugh is still warm, but there's something else in it. Maybe embarrassment, maybe frustration.

Maybe guilt.

You extend your hand, "well, it's fine. Friends, right?"

He glances at it, taking it gently. He runs his thumb over your knuckles, "friends. Now, run along. I can see his blond head in the bakery from here, he's gonna make you buy him a cake."

"It's the least I could do," you snort, squeezing his hand carefully. "Bye, Seok."

"Bye, sweetheart. Be safe."

YOUR APARTMENT IS STILL A MESS WHEN SEOKMIN ARRIVES.

You are still a mess when Seokmin arrives, a pout on your lip as you open your front door and see him nicely dressed in a soft sweater and a crisply pressed pair of chinos under his brown peacoat — and the little black hoops looped through his ears that you hadn't seen in ages.

He only laughs, gently pinching your cheek between his knuckles and stepping inside to a mess of broken down boxes and old tape rolled into a ball, chucked over your coffee table. You've got an old, paint-stained t-shirt that used to belong to Mingyu over your pajama shorts, and you insist that you'll be ready soon — which he only smiles at your half done hair and full face of make-up (sans lipstick.)

"Take your time," he shrugs, "seems like you had quite the week getting this place fixed up. Nice work."

"Don't praise me, it won't bode well." You huff, scurrying back to your bathroom to make sure the curling wand didn't burn a hole into your sink.

The week had been insane — you paid Soonyoung in cheesecake on Monday and Tuesday to help you unpack your kitchen and your bathroom, and then told him not to bother you until Sunday because you were going to do the rest on your own. You managed to get most of it done, including getting a mattress delivered and your bedframe set up by Wednesday…

But the lingering boxes, trash and the like were all cause of your frequent back-and-forth texting with one Lee Seokmin.

You caught up on minute things — him leaving UW-Madison his sophomore year and meeting Mingyu and Minghao at Rutgers. Him getting a masters degree, you getting a masters degree. You living in California for six years and four in Oregon, and the unspoken knowledge that the other four were purely for a boyfriend.

One that you wound up breaking up with (and one that fueled the fire of you moving back home) after catching him in your bed with his ex-girlfriend. From high school. Who was also engaged to his best friend!

There was a joke in the conversation from Seokmin, asking how college was as a virgin. You fired back that it was much better than having a crush on your brother's best friend, to which he replied with a frowning emoji and insisted he was better to crush on than some snotty-nosed frat boy who drank like a fish.

You both silently acknowledged that the Mingyu wedge was still present, and neither of you would be making the move to overlook it…even if you silently hoped he would.

You also swapped social media accounts in the process — his was full of adventures. Trips to Seoul and Osaka with your brother and other friends of his, trips to the mountains and skiing out east. Gardens in New Jersey and his graduation from Rutgers (and the impressive Cornell, despite not being nearly as snooty as half the other people you'd met in California that had come from the Ivy League.)

Yours had been curated carefully — luncheons, aesthetically taken shots of you by your old roommates who had all moved home back east. There was summer vacation carousels, photos of you with Aperol Spritz' in your hand and lounging on boats in bikinis you begged your brother not to tell your mother about (who only asked why you weren't showing more skin when you called her that following Christmas.)

Seokmin only liked the latest carousel on your profile. Your goodbyes to the beautiful wilderness that surrounded you in Oregon, and a promise to return someday — a photo of your packed up apartment, a cat lounging in the mid-morning sun atop your U-Haul, a thickly packed bagel with one for the road written across the top corner in an Instagram font you used almost too heavily during your days as a sorority girl hoping to reach prospective sisters.

And a selfie of you and Minghao, who had flown out from Boston to help you make the drive back home. Your heads were touching, his long hair ruffled against yours as you both winked at the camera, holding up to-go cups of hot tea and coffee — which you never liked, even if it was winter.

You ignored the shirtless photos on his profile.

"Have you decided where you want to go? So I can dress for the occasion." You called from your bathroom, having turned the curling wand off and opening the door to relieve some of the warmth you felt all over your face. You slipped out, seeing Seokmin staring at your wall of trinkets. Little clown figurines made by an Oregon artist that were grouped with Nyota and Skullpanda figurines you'd gotten in blind boxes, a couple of framed photos of you and Mingyu as kids, a snowglobe with a picture of you and your mother in it when Mingyu and your father got stuck in New Jersey during your senior year of high school.

"Uh, there's a nice place in Madison, if you don't mind the drive. Plus the potential traffic, it is a Friday." He nods, "just wear a dress? Maybe a long one?"

"Gotcha, yep."

You rooted around and found a long dress you'd worn back in California once for a Christmas dinner with your boyfriend during grad school. It had off-the-shoulder long sleeves, and a skirt that stopped at the ground with the right pair of shoes (read: your favorite pair of black heels.) You scurried around, grabbing your shoes and nibbling your lip at the slit that ran high up your thigh in the dark red fabric in the mirror of your vanity.

It felt a little…derivative.

You put your jewelry on, swiping on a creamy layer of lipstick before grabbing your purse and switching things around to your clutch. Your winter coat was in the hall closet, and you held your heels in one hand as you exited your bedroom hurriedly. Seokmin glanced over his shoulder from the pinned tour posters on your wall, turning around fully as you fixed your hair in the mirror that hung on your wall.

"Is this okay?" You ask, not bothering to look at him as you wiped the corners of your lips.

"Yeah, perfect. You look great…and we're running late." He teased, making you groan as you look at him in the mirror, "you told me to take my time!"

"I didn't think that meant forty minutes, sweetheart. Hop to, or we'll miss our reservation." He taps his watch, "where do you keep your coat?"

"Hall closet," you sit at a chair in your dining room, bending at the waist to pull on your shoes as he ducks past. He returns with your coat and a red mark on his forehead, a pout on his lip as you look up from your shoes, "what happened?"

"Your box of photo albums fell on me. How did you not hear that?" He whines, and you coo as you let him help you slip your coat on. Your fingers gently rub at the spot, "you'll be okay."

"Yeah, easy for you to say." He huffs, and you roll your eyes, pressing a kiss to your fingers before patting them against his forehead.

"Yeah, it is. Now, move along."

The drive to Madison was slow, but the restaurant he chose had been well worth it. You were sat at a rounded booth in the back, the lights dim and the environment cozy with soft jazz playing overhead. The waiter was sweet, but a bit too flirty for your taste — and clearly for Seokmin's as well, because he pulled you closer to him by your waist, his fingers lingering on your hip long enough for the waiter to see as he brought your drinks from the bar.

Dinner was relatively fun. Soft conversations, bringing up old memories, catching up on things. Seokmin asked about your psychology degree, you asked about his sudden move to Rutgers.

"Home isn't as fun without having a neighbor girl to bother." He stated, shrugging his shoulders as you gave him a deadpan look. He swiped a scallop off your plate then, making you scowl because you were not going to take a bite of his steak. "Plus, it was quiet. Madison is nice but Jersey was new and exciting. I roomed with Mingyu, Minghao and our friend Wonwoo, and it was fun until I would come back to one of their rooms with a sock on the door."

"Ew, I don't want to know about their adventures. I got enough with Hao complaining about his boyfriend wanting them to move to New York. Something, something, is the sex not filthy enough that he wants to move to Manhattan?" You scrunched your nose, making him laugh as you crossed your legs at the knee. Your dress splayed open, your thigh exposed to the warm air of the restaurant and the soft fabric of Seokmin's pants.

He didn't bother looking down, only tapping your knee before pulling the fabric over it.

"They're going to end up moving. Junhui has a hold on Minghao that you wouldn't believe. You would love him." He nods, "I helped Junhui plan the proposal."

Your eyes widened at that, and Seokmin swore you into secrecy before spilling the beans of your childhood friend potentially getting engaged before the end of the year.

Dinner came and went, dessert was sweet on your tongues despite the dark chocolate and Seokmin pouting when you had the last bite. You kept talking — your families, how shitty the holidays are as you get older and lose the childlike wonder of Santa Claus and gifts under the tree, girlfriends, boyfriends…

Your jaw tight as he mentioned his, his tight when you mentioned yours and a frown gracing his lips when you mentioned the Oregon boyfriend in particular.

"Well, he sucks." Seokmin clicked his tongue as he held the door open, the receipt blowing in the wind between his fingers. He'd fought you to pay the bill, shoving his card in the waiter's hand as he pinned you to your seat with a hand on your thigh.

A move that neither of you spoke about but both knew it could've created something neither of you were too sure you'd dislike. Not that either of you knew the other felt the same about the latter, but it wasn't your business to know.

Not yet, anyway.

The drive back is comfortable. You took AUX as he drove, complimented the recently refurbished bench seat of his truck. He smiles, says he also helped your mother get her '69 Cadillac get a beautiful new layer of that cobalt blue paint she loves. He prompts you to sit closer, and you end up resting your head on his shoulder with his hand low on your hip as you drive back into Pleasant Hill.

He's warm. He smells floral, like iris and neroli with a hint of cedarwood. He's drumming his fingers against you, running his hand slightly up and down your hip as you watch the sky become clearer the further you get into your small town.

He feels like home.

"Did you miss me while I was gone?" You ask suddenly as he rolls to a stop at a red light just half a block before your apartment complex. He raises a brow, looking down at you with an amused expression.

"You think I didn't?" "I wouldn't be asking."

"Of course I missed you, Y/N." He shakes his head, subconsciouly squeezing your hip. "I left Pleasant Hill because I missed you. I came back because I missed you."

"Or because my brother asked you to." "Your brother is the closest thing I get to you, so you have to give me some credit. Hallway crushes don't disappear as easily as I thought, especially not after you kiss her on prom night."

Your cheeks burn as the light turns green, your hand on his knee tracing circles as he presses on the gas.

"It's been ten years since then, Seokmin." "No, it's been nineteen. I've liked you since I was ten years old."

Your eyes widen as he pulls into your apartment complex, expertly slipping into a shaded parking space. He turns the car off as you look up at him, "you should head inside. It's late and you'll need your rest to finish unpacking."

"Mingyu's coming in the morning to help me." You murmur, and he nods simply, "he always was a nice guy. He's making long distance work with Tzuyu."

"Seokmin." "Yes?"

"Are you going to keep talking about my brother or are you going to kiss me?" The words slip from your mouth as easily as they did ten years ago, but he doesn't bother responding before he presses his lips to yours. Soft, smooth but hungry as he pulls you on top of him, his hand wrapping around your neck and holding you firmly in place. Your hands pulled at his sweater, shoving it up as his tongue slipped into your mouth. He let go of your neck, shoving your coat off your shoulders as you sucked on the tip of his tongue, your fingertips toying with the buckle of his belt before he pulled back.

"We can't." "We can." "Mingyu—"

"You came up for a nightcap and helped me unpack. Too drunk to drive home and spent the night on my couch." You unbuckle his belt as he groans, his hands eagerly pulling at the slit of your dress to expose your thighs. His fingers are warm as they slide up the plush flesh, squeezing shamelessly as you pull his belt through the loops and toss it to the side, "not embarrassed about your little collections anymore?"

"What I do with my Maxim subscription is between me and the comfort of my bedroom." "Better read than Playboy, eh?" "With the same beautiful women. Are you going to Prom Night me or what, Seokmin?"

"We're using that as an adjective now? Prom Night-ing?" He huffs, your lips parting with a soft gasp as lithe fingers squeeze the swell of your ass over the lace of your underwear. "I wasn't going to take your virginity in a car."

"Well, someone else has that shit now, and we did it on a fraternity beanbag." "I don't want to hear about that. The guys you've been with didn't deserve you in the first place."

"Then prove you deserve me more than they did." You whisper against his lips, "and it'll be like it never happened. Just you, just me. Yours, and mine."

He sits for a moment, his eyes boring into yours as he slides his hands over your hips carefully. He kneads the soft skin between his fingers, nibbling on his lip as his thumb toys with the hem of your panties before plucking at it.

"What if you regret it?" "Seokmin, we've had a thing for one another for the last nineteen years. We're as cliché as they come. Probably down to the ring and the house and the kids, if you want them."

He blinks, nodding slowly as he clicks his tongue.

"You think Mingyu knows?" "Are we going to keep talking about my brother?"

He presses his lips to yours, a mumble of no slipping out as he pulls you higher on his lap. Your fingers undo his pants easily, the sound of the zipper catching his attention as your hand dips beneath the fabric of his boxers to palm at his cock. His fingers immediately slip between your legs, pulling the embarrassingly damp fabric of your panties to the side to circle your clit with his thumb. Your thighs tighten around his hand, your gasp swallowed by his lips before you pull away, letting him kiss down the expanse of your neck and littering the soft skin with nips of his teeth.

His fingers slip lower as your thumb swipes over the leaking head of his cock, shaky breaths falling from your lips as he circles your entrance with his fingertips before pushing in slowly. He sighs against your chest at the wet sound of your cunt swallowing his fingers, a whimpered groan falling from your lips into his shoulder.

"Seokmin, we s-should—" "We should go upstairs."

It's a tumble to get out of the car, his pants hastily buttoned and your fingers shaking as you try to unlock the door. He pushes it open from behind you, shoving it closed with his foot once you both step inside and pinning you against it. He pulls your coat off as he kisses you desperately, throwing the coat over a bunch of boxes labeled bedroom before his hands wrap around your thighs and lift you up. You wrap your legs around him instinctively, the kiss turning to teeth and tongue as he carries you in the direction of your bedroom.

"I could worship you for the rest of my life and it still wouldn't be enough to deserve you." He mumbles against your lips as he nudges the bedroom door open, your cheeks heating as he sets you on the edge of your bed gently. He pushes you back against it, kissing you carefully — a total switch up that makes your head spin as he cups your face with one hand, his knee slotting between your thighs as you move to lean back on your elbows. "I would've waited ten more years if it meant you'd come back to me."

"Seokmin," you pout against his mouth, only for him to kiss you chastely before his hands move to gather the fabric of your dress at your hips. You sit up, letting him pull the dress over you and toss it across the room before his hands slid down your sides. His eyes don't make you feel self conscious as they trail over you, his fingers hooking with the waistband of your panties and easily pulling them down your thighs. He shamelessly tucks them into his pocket, smiling inwardly as he kisses your parted lips.

"You're a pervert." "You're beautiful." "Well don't be nice to me, it ruins the purpose."

"It's banter, gorgeous." He trails his lips down your jaw, making your skin prickle as his hands spread your thighs. He traces a path down your chest, murmuring soft praises as he kisses each of your nipples before kissing down your soft belly, his hands massaging the muscle of your thighs as he spread them further. He drags his lips across your hips, peering up at you through his lashes as he litters kisses on the inside of your thighs, kneeling at the edge of your bed.

"Seokmin." "Patience." "I waited ten years, isn't that enough?"

He raises a brow, sinking his teeth into your skin and making you flinch, before quickly running his tongue over the mark.

"I waited ten years, too, you know." He says pointedly, his lips ghosting over your clit before he presses an open mouthed kiss to it. Your thighs twitch around his head as he pulls you closer to his face, "I spent the entire week fucking my hand, thinking about you in that little skirt at the grocery store."

He doesn't let you reply, opting to slip his tongue between your folds in long, languid strokes — gathering your arousal in his mouth before swirling the tip of his tongue around your clit. Your spine arches off the bed as he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your hand carding through his hair and giving it a harsh tug as soft pants fall from your lips. His fingers slide down your thigh, prodding at your entrance gently before sinking in carefully, your thighs closing around his head as he works you over with his tongue. Your mewled moans of his name fill the air, your hips rutting against his face earning nothing but hums and curls of his fingers as he finds that spongy spot that makes your legs tremble around his head. Your heels dig into his shoulders as the wet sound of your cunt around his fingers hits your ears, your cheeks burning hot as the coil in your belly snaps with a whimper from your lips.

You can feel him smile against your skin, the smug bastard.

"Did so well for me, honey." He whispers against your thigh, his fingers slipping out of you slowly and circling your clit. Your skin prickles as you jerk away from him, closing your legs around his hand as he catches your ankle before it hits him, using it as leverage to pull you flush against the tent in his pants. "You can give me another, can't you? Just one more, baby."

He keeps his eyes on you as he kisses up your calf, his fingers still tracing circles on your clit as you squirm. He kisses the side of your foot, his teeth tugging at the strap of your heel around your ankle to grab your attention.

"One more." "On your cock." "Whatever you want, baby."

He slips his hand out from between your thighs to shuck his sweater off, tossing it somewhere in the room before reaching into his back pocket and pulling his wallet out — procuring a gold foil packet between his fingers. You sit up, rolling your eyes as you pluck it from his hand, flicking it across the room before pulling him closer to you and kissing the bulge in his pants. Your fingers unbutton them swiftly, mouthing at his cock over his boxers.

His hand drops his wallet as your fingers curl around the waistband, his own raking through your hair as your spit soaks through the fabric before you pull them down his thighs. Your hands circle the muscle, digging your nails into the side as you lick the tip of leaking precum. He bites down on his lip as take him deeper in your mouth, peering up at him through your lashes as the tip hits the back of your throat. You sink slightly further, your nose brushing his lower stomach as he groans, gathering your hair in his hand asyour hand slides up his thigh, cupping his balls as you slowly bob your head up and down his length. You pull off briefly with a soft gasp, lips swollen as you kiss his shaft before he pulls you away gently.

"Later," he whispers, bending to press a kiss to your spitslick lips. "Lie back, baby."

"Seok—" "Later, I promise."

You pout but do as you're told, leaning back on your elbows as he kicks off his pants, toeing off his shoes before you reach to undo your heels — only for him to grab your ankle and pull your leg away from you, "leave them on."

"Freak."

He doesn't reply, only smiling inwardly as he spreads your thighs for him, your cunt still glistening with his spit and your cum. He wraps his hand around himself, sliding the thick head of his cock through your slick folds with a soft moan. You rut your hips up, begging for any kind of friction when he pins you to the mattress, "be patient."

"Fuck me." "I am."

"You're taking your sweet ti—" Your sentence is cut off by his cock sinking inside you slowly, a smirk playing on his lips as your eyes flutter shut. He holds your thighs apart, his eyes trained on the way your cunt sucks in him, his lips parted as he buries himself to the hilt inside you. Your breathing is shallow as he presses his chin to his chest, the low light of your bedroom light showing off all the soft contours of his body as your fingres itch to touch him.

He leans forward, brushing a kiss to your lips as your hands slide up his arms, digging your nails into his shoulders as he gives a tentative roll of his hips. A punctuated fuck falls from your lips, making him trail wet, open mouthed kisses down the curve of your throat. His hand snakes between you, thumb finding your clit and pressing against it hard as he rocks into you with a barely controlled pace that settles the idea in your brain that he wants you just as bad as you want him.

"Feel so good, baby," he whines into your neck, his hips meeting yours with hard thrusts that make your breath hitch in your throat. "Such a good girl, yeah? Say you're mine."

"'M yours," your voice is hardly steady as you can taste the embarrasingly close end on the back of your tongue, your limbs fuzzy as you drag your nails down his back. He shivers, your walls clamping around him as he drags his lips down your neck, holding your knees tight to your chest as he swirls his tongue over one of your nipples. You thrust your chest up, your back bent in half as his cock drags deliciously in your spasming walls as you stave off your orgasm. "Want to you cum inside me, p-please."

"Please, huh? My baby's so polite…" he kisses back up your chest, dragging his tongue up the slope of your neck before his teeth tug at your earlobe. "You're mine, right? My girl. Mine."

You nod with a soft whine, your orgasm ripping through you and making your body feel hot as he spills inside you. Your fingernails are digging into his biceps, tears pricking at your eyes as he fucks you through it, your thighs shake around his waist, his hands quickly sliding over them and squeezing the soft flesh. Your skin is slick with sweat as he kisses down your chest, "you did so good for me, baby. So good."

You drape an arm over your eyes, embarrassment coating your cheeks in warmth as he carefully undoes the strap of your heels without pulling out. You feel his fingers gently circle the reddened dip of the straps, massaging the spot as you clench around him. He jerks in response, making you gasp as you close your legs as much as you can with him holding your ankles. He's still hard inside you, his hands pulling your ankles together over one shoulder and giving a slow roll of his hips; your hand darting out to push his hip away.

"S-Seokmin—" "Just one more. You can do it, I know you can."

Your hand on his hip slides off, "slow. I mean it."

"Whatever my girl wants." "You." "You have me, baby."

"And you're mine, too?" You peer up at him, eyes glossy with unshed tears as he nods, stopping his movements to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. You scrunch it, pursing your lips for a kiss. He obliges, speaking against your lips.

"I'm yours, Y/N."

IT'S VERY OBVIOUS THAT NEITHER OF YOU REALLY STUCK TO THE STORY THAT SEOKMIN GOT DRUNK AND COULDN'T DRIVE HOME.

You're twenty-eight years old, sitting on your couch with your twenty-nine year old (newly pronounced) boyfriend as your brother (unfortunately, also his best friend) screams like a husky wanting out of the house. He goes on and on about the integrity of a promise — apparently, Mingyu did know that Seokmin had the hots for you way back when, and made him swear he would never make a move on you. It doesn't help that you and Seokmin both spill the beans at the same time about how the two of you almost slept together the night of your prom — making Mingyu rub his face in embarrassment as he paces in front of you both.

"Fine, fine! Whatever!" He exclaims, throwing his arms up in defeat. "You win! Just don't ruin my sister's life and I won't fucking kill you."

You chew on your lip, shifting in your brother's old, paint-stained t-shirt as he huffs, crossing his arms on his chest.

"So you're not mad at me, right, Gyu?" You murmur, and Seokmin immediately scoots closer to you, tucking you into his chest as your older brother sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well, it's not like I didn't expect this." He mutters, "neither of you are very good at keeping your feelings a secret."

"Then why are you over here yelling like a banshee?" You ask, and he sighs again, crouching next to your coffee table.

"Because you're my sister. It's my job to embarrass you and also yell at any of my friends that think they have a chance with you." He says pointedly, before looking at Seokmin. "I mean it. She was gone for ten years, and if I lose her again I'm killing you. The grave will be a ditch in Appalachia and no one will ever find your fucking body."

Mingyu didn't stay to help unpack, instead handing the task over to Seokmin with the label of it being 'to prove he was worthy of being with you.' He left with a kiss to the side of your head and a sniff at Seokmin, stalking out of your apartment and slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

"…He wouldn't actually, would he?" "No, I'm pretty sure he would. It's the could that I'm skeptical about, Mingyu can't even go hunting."

Seokmin snorted, laying back on the couch and pulling you on top of him with a soft brush of his lips to your cheek.

"Well, he doesn't have to worry about it. After all, I could spend the rest of my life worshipping you and it still wouldn't be enough."

You think it just might be.

4. ❥ lover!dk - @studioeisa

he's sooooo loud but fuck i wouldn't trade that for anything :,) that's our dokyeommieee

5. ❥ ex!dokyeom texts - @cheoliedollie

in love love loveee with how their relationship progressed (AND THE PUPPY BEING CALLED DOA?!?!?)

6. ❥ overworked - @rubyreduji

the platonic relationship with jihooon!! dk doting on them and making sure they don't overwork!! i loveeeee~

7. ❥ color me crazy (for you) - @rubyreduji

i sooo relate to reader; those days when absolutely nothing goes right and the whole world feels against you? the way seokmin handled it so well, that's exactly what i need :,)

8. ❥ the things he’s whispered loudly - @seuonji

reader is such a dumbass (they're just like me lmao kgbdfk)

9. ❥ dating seokmin includes… - @svtswhorehouse

i would LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEE to date seokminnie like, it sounds so loving and funnn :3

10. ❥ the selection!dk - @studioeisa

omg he's sooooo nervous here ahhh my babyy (the bowing part reminded me of anastasia the musical [idr if it was in the movie too??])

✩ nsfw section ✩

1. ❥ biting your back during sex - @hoshifighting

him being rough...omfggggggggggggg

2. ❥ fwb!dokyeom texts - @cheoliedollie

nOTTTT both of them rushing to mingyu & jeonghan for help JKFGBDK

3. ❥ text mini au - @hoshifighting

mingyu being the biggest dk x yn advocate dkjbgdkj

4. ❥ post-sex with seokmin - @nsfwhao

omg DUDEEE calm down with the more than 3 orgasms?!

5. ❥ sub!seok - @sluttyminghao

agreed cuz i loveeeeeee the sub!seok concept teehe

6. ❥ boyfie seokmin + face riding - @rubyreduji

indeed, his face was madeeee to ride on

7. ❥ virgin reader - @hoshifighting

we alll know he'd take care of a virgin partner SOOO well :3

8. ❥ thigh riding - @toruro

just like his face....his thighs were madeeee to ride (WHY ARE THEY SO THICK??!)

9. ❥ an ode to d(k)arms - @cheolism-archive

the darms...THE DARMSSS (he's sooooo pretty and deserves all that body worshippp

10. ❥ home made porn - @hoshifighting

teaser-trailer

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

choose your own ending 🤭

last updated: 3/13

hi y’all! expect the teaser, first chapter, and some more info through this weekend. check back soon!! i’m so nervous so thank you very much for your patience ❤️

It must’ve been around two months ago now that you first saw Seoyeon wandering around Rainy Days Arcade curiously. She was alone, but she seemed content that way, with her headphones on and eyes roaming over the various games on offer to play.

Though, over the weeks following her first visit, you realised that she never had company, never tried to talk to the other teens her own age, and avoided the ones wearing the same school uniform as her. After two weeks of watching the lonely girl play on her own with barely a twitch of her lips when she won, she finally removed her headphones; you took the chance to talk to her and invite her to play a game with you.

To your joy, the day after you first spoke to her, she removed her headphones after spotting you a few games away. You took it for the invitation it was to join her, learn her name, and earn a few smiles that grew brighter with each round played.

Ever since then, Seoyeon has come out of her shell a lot. She still doesn’t talk to the other teens, but she does always find you out, and even happily talks to the other staff members of Rainy Days Arcade. Still, it’s clear you’re her favourite. Especially since the day that you pointed out that you are friends, after she admitted that she struggles to make friends and hasn’t befriended a single person at her new school despite a month of classes passing.

So now, you’re two months into being the best friend of a sweetheart of a shy 14-year-old girl, and only just realising that her dad is the single most attractive person you have ever laid eyes on.

Of course, you don’t blame her for not mentioning it; you can’t imagine anyone would ever call their own dad a DILF. But you still would’ve liked the heads up so that you can mentally prepare for the day Lee Seokmin first steps foot into the arcade and proves himself to be the man of your wettest and wildest dreams.

Honestly, you would probably find that very first moment you spot one another comical if you had been witnessing it and not starring in it.

For the past ten minutes, you and Seoyeon have been bothering Skater at the prize desk, where the young man has been trying to line up the new plushies on the shelf in the exact way you and Seoyeon instruct him. You’re pretty sure he can tell that you two are just messing with him and that you really don’t care how precisely the toys are displayed; but he’s always so placid and willing to do whatever you want, especially when you’re giggling away. He just keeps glancing over his shoulder at you with a dopily smitten smile and asks if he’s got it right yet.

Honestly, he probably had it right the very first second that he plopped the items down, but this innocent mischief is entertaining Seoyeon, and you really do love seeing her happy, so the façade continues.

Though, the second you naturally glance across the arcade to check that everything is still going as smoothly as last time you looked, you find a literal god on earth walking towards you. Seriously, there’s a glow behind him and ethereal music playing the second you lock your eyes on him. Granted, it’s probably coming from the mythical themed game he’s passing, but the timing is too perfect to dismiss.

He's looking around the arcade as he walks— clearly searching for someone— yet the instant his gaze lands on you, he stops in his tracks, and his eyes grow wide.

That music picks up, turns a little deeper, faster. The soft white blush blends into a sultry red halo of temptation around him. The world around you stops existing and you feel yourself drawn to this man so strongly that you take a step without thinking.

And then,

“Dad?”

All at once, the arcade bursts back to life around you. He’s no longer lit up and staring at you, but just another man— albeit a ridiculously gorgeous one— turning to smile at his daughter. Who happens to be right at your side.

“Hi, Snowdrop!” the man greets, brightening as he nears, attention on his daughter as you stare at Seoyeon with thinly veiled betrayal at her breaking the bestie code and hiding a hot guy from you.

You have to remind yourself that she is that hot guy’s teenage daughter pretty quickly, so that you can look like a normal human being when he looks at you with a polite, friendly smile and little wave, making you realise that Seoyeon is introducing you.

“This is Sunflower,” she says, motioning to you and you notice his eyes widen in shock, but she ignores him. “Sunflower, this is my dad, Lee Seokmin.”

“Lovely to meet you,” you say, offering your hand and internally melting as his strong, yet still gentle, hand clasps yours in an instinctive handshake.

“Yeah, you–you too,” he responds, leaning back as you reluctantly loosen your grip and end the polite greeting. “I uhm, sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, I really thought Sunflower was a same-aged friend. Seoyeon never said that you’re…not.”

“Sorry, that’s probably weird, huh? A 28-year-old befriending your 14-year-old,” you respond with a wince, entirely understanding how creepy it probably seems.

“28,” he chokes out, eyes widening further.

“Yeah…”

“There a problem, man?” Skater, bless his heart, asks from behind the counter as he leans on it with the stern expression he only breaks out when customers are being a pain in the ass picking their prizes. “Sunflower is a sweetheart and has been looking out for your kid while you’re off being too busy to be a parent.”

“Skater!” you scold, turning to give him a warning look that he only shrugs at before straightening, crossing his arms over his chest, and clearly unwilling to apologise or take his words back. Honestly, you can’t blame him.

For two months, Seoyeon has spent hours at the arcade. She arrives every day after school and leaves hours later when you watch her get on the bus to head home so that you know she’s left safely. And on the weekends, she often spends whole days at the arcade; enough that you make sure you always work weekends now just in case she does turn up, so that you can keep her company— even if you know the other staff would keep an eye on her. You just feel protective of the girl and want to do your best to make her feel less alone.

“No, he’s right,” Seokmin says. “I work a lot, probably too much, but I’m working on it,” he says. “It’s a new town for us, so I’ve been setting up, letting people know that I’m a reliable choice, so I’ve not been the best father I could be lately. That’s going to change.” He looks at Seoyeon as he says this, eyes and voice so sincere that even though he’s not talking to you, you can’t help but believe him. “I promise, Snowdrop, I’ll make more time to be with you.”

To your relief, Seoyeon smiles and moves forward to hug her dad right there, careless of who sees. You know that she loves her dad; she’s mentioned him a few times and always sounds fond and happy, so you know he can’t be a bad guy, not really. But you had been worried that she was putting on a brave face, or that she gave him more praise than he deserved— considering how much time she’s with you and not him. Yet seeing the pair so easily and lovingly embrace like this, it’s clear that it’s not unusual, and Seokmin has raised his daughter to not be afraid to show affection without shame.

The father-daughter duo breaks the hug, but he keeps his arm around her shoulders, suit pulling tight over his raised bicep and you can’t help but wonder what you’ve got to do to get those big, beefy arms wrapped around you instead.

“Thank you for looking out for Seoyeon, Sunflower,” Seokmin says, but you only snap your eyes and attention away from his bulging arms when you hear your work name said. He’s smiling at you softly, looking very grateful, which turns a little bashful when you smile back, unable to remain straight-faced when he’s smiling at you. You think anyone who doesn’t smile back at him is probably a psychopath. “I really appreciate it, and I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong or have bad intentions. She’s mentioned you a lot; told me how kind you are and how you always make a point of talking to anyone who looks lonely here. I was just…surprised. I really did think you were closer to her age…not…28.”

“Well, I am,” you respond, not sure what else to say.

“You’re here so much with my daughter that your own family must be really missing you at home!” he says quickly, some guilt shining in his big eyes.

“My family?” you question. “I live alone.”

“Oh…sorry,” he gives you a sheepish, embarrassed smile, and scratches his neck with his free hand, the other mindlessly tapping his daughter’s shoulder where it rests. “I just…I thought I had Seoyeon late, and I was 28, so I guess I always assume people have started their families by that age.”

You laugh, shaking your head a little. “No, no kids for me at the moment. Maybe if I find the right person, but it’s not something I’m looking for or anything.”

“Ah, okay. That’s cool! To each their own!” he declares with a smile.

“Did you come to play, dad?” Seoyeon prompts, realising the topic is over and she can talk without being rude by interrupting.

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I finished work early, so I thought we could go out for dinner tonight?” he suggests once he’s looking at his daughter, who nods enthusiastically with a smile to match. As Seokmin beams back at her, you can’t help but notice the similarities in how bright they both are; the way their eyes sparkle in reflection of one another. It’s adorable.

Seoyeon darts around the prize desk to grab her school bag from where she always stows it out of the way under the desk. Unlike with all the staff members— except you— Skater never complains when she takes up some of his snack shelf, as he calls it; just smiles and lets her put her trust in him to guard over her belongings.

Even now, he just smiles at her and pats her on the shoulder in his usual friendly manner as she passes him. “See ya tomorrow, Bud,” he says.

“See you tomorrow, Skater,” Seoyeon responds. “See you tomorrow, Sunflower!”

“See you tomorrow, Bud,” you respond, earning a confused look from Seokmin. “Nice to meet you, Seokmin, come by more often. We’ll show you a good time,” you can’t help but inject a little suggestive edge to your words and judging by the way Seokmin stumbles slightly as his daughter tugs him away, he doesn’t miss it. He glances at you in slight alarm, then smiles shyly, waves, and quickly rushes after Seoyeon before her pulling makes him fall flat on his face.

“Damn, you got a thing for older guys for real,” Skater comments with a whistle from behind you as you lean back on the counter with a dreamy sigh, admiring Seokmin’s ass in his perfectly tailored trousers as he leaves the arcade. “He’s literally the same age as my dad.”

“Maybe you should’ve introduced me to your dad,” you tease, grinning over your shoulder at Skater.

“Pretty sure his wife would not approve of that,” he deadpans.

“Ah, the wicked stepmother,” you respond with an understanding hum. He makes a noise back, clearly disapproving of his father’s choice in wife. “He only married her last year; I’ve known you for four years now, Skate, I could’ve taken her place by now. Wouldn’t you like to call me mommy?” you coo, leaning over to pinch his cheek.

“God, not in that way,” he responds shamelessly, making you laugh as you push away from the counter. “You gonna bone Bud’s dad?”

“I’m gonna fucking try.”

“What’s the game plan?”

“Get his attention, get his dick,” you summarise. Skater just laughs. “Alright, back to work; those plushies aren’t going to display themselves.”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Kinky fucker.”

Honestly, when you said to Skater that your first step in your game plan for getting Seokmin into your bed is “get his attention”, you really had no fucking idea how to achieve that. Despite the father-daughter duo having moved to town a little over two months ago, you haven’t once seen them anywhere but the arcade, and Seokmin only once.

Really, you were probably a little over ambitious with your plan. You probably should’ve added a research section where you subtly ask Seoyeon about her dad and where you can coincidentally bump into him— without her present— to not so subtly flirt with him.

Or at him, you’re not sure yet if he’d retaliate; he seemed more stunned than anything with your parting comment last time. You have no idea if his staring was because he had just found that his daughter’s new bestie isn’t a fellow teen but a grown ass woman, or if he likes what he sees of this grown ass woman. You’re hoping for the later, but not willing to hold your breath about it.

Regardless, you didn’t factor that into the game plan and even now, days later and after days of spending time with Seoyeon, you don’t amend your plan to include that step. As much as you would love to get your hands— and mouth, and entire body— on her dad, you respect the girl too much to use her like that. So, you just carry on like normal and pray for some god-like intervention to help you initiate level 1 of your game plan.

When you glance over your shoulder and notice Seokmin approaching you and Seoyeon, you think you may have to start praying more often, especially if this man is the god you’re praying to. You’d happily get on your knees to worship him any day.

“Hey,” he greets from a few metres away, smiling at you, and waves a little. You lift one hand from the plastic gun in your hands to wave back.

“Ha! Got ya!” Seoyeon cheers, making you turn to look at the screen and find that yes, Seoyeon has eliminated your avatar with a very effective headshot. You can’t even be mad about it; it’s a good shot. But that doesn’t mean you’re not going to play on it.

“Hey! No fair!” you complain, putting down the controller as she does the same with hers, docking them securely so that they don’t fall.

“You should’ve been paying attention,” she sasses, then giggles when you gawp at her.

“Are you playing nicely, Snowdrop?” Seokmin teases as he stops a few feet away, making Seoyeon turn and beam at him.

“Always!” she insists. “Are we going for dinner again? It’s a bit early,” she realises, face falling. “Do I have to leave?”

“Actually, I was thinking you could show me around and we can play some of your favourite games before heading off,” Seokmin responds, making Seoyeon light up.

“Yeah!” she enthuses and grabs Seokmin’s arm to start pulling him to one side of the arcade. “Let’s start over here, there’s so many cool games! You’ll love some of the prizes too.” Seokmin shoots you a little smile as he obligingly lets his daughter drag him across the building, getting lost from your sight amongst the consoles and lights, but you don’t mind. Not when Seoyeon looks happier than she ever has now that her dad’s joined her.

“Damn, tough luck,” Skater says, appearing behind you, making you jolt in surprise then turn to flick his upper arm, making him snicker.

“Have you just turned up?” you question, well aware that you haven’t seen or heard of Skater yet today until now, and Dip has been covering him at the prize desk all afternoon.

“Hit a pothole,” he explains, lifting his arm which, now high enough, you can see has a bandage wrapped around it. “It was nasty.”

“Gross,” you comment at the thought of how he must’ve messed up his arm on the road when he fell off his skateboard. Again. The guy spends more time on the floor than actually riding it, but he’s determined. Even if you’ve known him for four years– since he started working at Rainy Days Arcade— and he has only recently managed to figure out how to turn his skateboard without toppling right off. The poor, directionally and balance challenged fool.

“Yep. I did message the chat, but you never check it, so, not my fault, boss.”

“You guys talk so much fucking shit in there,” you defend with a groan as you both turn and head to the prize desk so that he can stow his skateboard— still clutched in his unbandaged arm— and relieve Dip from the cover. “It’s supposed to be work related.”

“How many people Sandman has bored to fuck in a day is work related,” he insists.

“Yeah, and why is Noodle in it? He doesn’t even work here.”

“He’s an honorary member!” Skater defends as he circles around the desk to prop his board up on the holder that you had installed on the back wall when he kept tripping over the board every time he had to move around. He really is a walking safety hazard.

“Who is?” Dip asks as she gets up from the stool, pushing herself up off of the counter she’s leaning against as if her entire body is heavy. Judging by the glassy look in her eyes, it probably does feel that way, but you know she’ll never shirk her duties regardless of how high she is. And at least she never smokes around work hours, only takes edibles, so she thankfully doesn’t come in smelling of it, because then there would be a serious problem. You’d hate to fire her for making the place reek of weed; she’s always the first to step up when customers cause issue. You think she probably enjoys kicking people out far too much for such a chill woman, but still, you don’t mind.

“Noodle,” you answer.

“Ah, they’re a package deal at this point, Flower; you know this,” Dip points out as she leans against your shoulder. “You smell good, that a new perfume?”

“Yeah, MD saw it in the store a few days ago and made her mums buy it for me, because it’s a sunflower bottle.”

“Aww, she’s so cute,” Dip coos and you can’t help but nod in empathic agreement. Your little cousin is the cutest little shit going. “When’s she coming ‘round next? I miss her.”

“Doc’s gotta come fix the table that asshole broke the other day,” Skater reminds, pointing to his right, to the wall that leads to the snack bar attached— though technically in another unit— with an archway further down the wall to let customers pass between. And also lets the scents of all the fried foods and sweet snacks waft through, enticing customers, but also staff.

“Mm, reminds me, I’m hungry. He better have made up a fresh batch of ‘slaw or I’ll cry,” she says, already toddling off to the snack bar, knowing that although you are their boss, you really don’t care if they eat or drink on shift— so long as they still do their jobs and don’t make a mess, of course.

“Where is your conjoined bestie, anyway?” you wonder, glancing around as if Noodle will pop up from behind one of the machines any second. It’s happened before.

“Probably getting cursed out by Frenchie for bringing another instant noodle pot into the kitchen and making him boil water for him,” Skater muses, once again motioning to the separating wall, in between neatening the boxes in the glass display case under the counter you’re leaning on.

“Makes sense,” you respond then pat the counter before pushing away from it. “Let me know if your arm plays up; I’ve got painkillers in the office.”

“I know.” Skater chuckles, looking at you amusedly. “Just say you’re making excuses to take me back there.”

“Ha, you wish,” you scoff.

“Yeah, I really do.” You just laugh, fondly rolling your eyes at his complete lack of shame about his ongoing crush on you, before you walk off to do the rounds; to make sure the customers are happy, and everything is running smoothly.

To your utter joy, it’s only two days before you see Seokmin, god of your libido, again.

It’s Sunday, and although Seoyeon had arrived an hour ago on her own, she had announced that her dad would be by once he’s done with his usual Sunday morning chores. She had also warned that it probably wouldn’t be until the afternoon, because he is really particular about the laundry cycle, and how to clean the kitchen.

Yet he steps into the arcade and immediately finds the pair of you only an hour after his daughter arrives. “Snowdrop!”

“Dad?” she baulks, turning to look at him in surprise; you take the chance to knock out her character. “Sunflower!” she whines as he hears the KO announcement and turns to look at you in betrayed disbelief.

“What? You should’ve been paying attention,” you retort sassily, reflecting her words from the other day back at her. She gawps at you, though breaks into giggles when you theatrically flip your hair over your shoulder, especially as it’s tied up in a half-hearted bun so there are only some wispy strands even hanging down to flip. You giggle along with her then take a step back. “I’ll let you two have your peace. You know where I’ll be if you need me for anything.”

“Why do you say that as if you’re ever in one place long?” Seoyeon deadpans. “You’re always wandering around.”

“I’ve got a lot of energy, okay,” you defend and glance at Seokmin, finding him smiling happily, seeming to enjoy witnessing you and his daughter interacting so playfully. “Anyway, if you need my stamina, come find me,” you finalise, making sure to lock your gaze with Seokmin’s suddenly wide eyes before you turn and head off.

You barely manage to make it a few games away before a regular customer, a kid barely 6-years-old— who turns up a couple of times a week with his teen sibling— pops up in front of you with the usual grin he always wears when he spots you. Without a word, you sweep him up into your arms, making him giggle madly; he happily bounces through the air as you carry him over to his favourite racing game to keep him occupied and safe until his sibling is ready to leave.

Although there are signs around the arcade stating that all children under 13 must always be accompanied by someone over 16— signs all of the staff adamantly stand by—, there are some exceptions to the rule. You had once confronted the boy’s sibling, only to quickly notice how drained the teen was, and you just knew that they already have enough on their plate. Ever since then, you make sure to feed the pair and play free babysitter for a couple hours a week to give the teen a break.

And honestly, even if you spend an hour straight sitting on that plastic chair until your ass goes numb, so long as the boy is innocently laughing away on your lap as he purposely veers off course, you’re happy to do it.

Rainy Days Arcade was started those decades back with the sole purpose of giving people a happy place to be and just forget about all the shit life throws at them, especially on rainy days when the outside world can feel a little sadder. You’re always so proud that even now, even when most people have game consoles in the comfort of their own homes, your family’s business can still do exactly what it was made to do.

“You know, I’m starting to think your plan might be working,” Skater comments one evening as the two of you lean against the prize counter, sharing a basket of Frenchie’s infamous dirty fries.

“Hm?” you respond, eyes glancing over the arcade yet inevitably returning to where Seoyeon and Seokmin are playing a game together. The man is clearly not at all experienced or skilled at any of the arcade games; he consistently loses with sulky pouts that shouldn’t be so cute on a 42-year-old man, though they always quickly morph into smiles upon seeing his daughter’s joy at winning.

“Bud’s dad,” Skater says, vaguely motioning with a floppy couple of fries towards the pair before abruptly leaning forward to shove the fries into his mouth before the topping can slip off onto the glass counter. “He keeps looking at you,” he informs around the food in his mouth.

“Heathen,” you say, giving Skater a disgusted look, which grows when he opens his mouth to show you his partially chewed food. “Gross!” you exclaim, shoving his shoulder while he laughs, though thankfully, with his mouth shut.

“His seduction techniques leave a lot to be desired,” Noodle’s voice suddenly announces, making you both look over the counter to find the young man standing there, helping himself to the fries as if he’s been present for ages already. You hadn’t even heard him approach, but at this point, you’re used to him appearing like some weird, noodle-obsessed entity and only react to slap his hand away when he reaches for more. “Hey,” he complains, pouting at you. “You’re sharing with him.” He points to Skater as if they’re not best friends and have been— you’re pretty sure— since they learned to crawl.

“I’m her favourite,” Skater declares.

“He dropped his burger, I pity him,” you correct and Noodle hums in understanding, picking up his pot of freshly steaming instant noodles from the counter to mix them and test if they’re done. As if the guy doesn’t know the precise cooking times for every single brand of instant noodles at this point.

“How’s your plan going?” Noodle asks a moment later as he leans back against the counter while he eats, eyes quickly finding Seoyeon and her dad— the pair now on a different game. “He’s wearing tighter trousers today.”

“I noticed,” you say with a dreamy sigh as you lean down onto the counter, resting your chin in your palms. “I want to bite his thighs, Nood.”

“Really fucking weird you call him nude,” Skater mutters. You both ignore him.

“They’re huge. Think he’d give me work-out tips?” Noodle asks, looking down at his own thighs.

You lean forward to peer over the counter down at his denim clad legs. “Your thighs are already big,” you comment before leaning back.

“No, keep leaning over the counter,” Skater argues in a whine, making you look over your shoulder at him, not at all surprised to find his eyes on your ass. “Noodle, do some squats, get her to lean over again.”

“You want to fuck her and you’re trying to get her to check me out?” Noodle deadpans, making Skater look up at his best friend as if he hadn’t even considered that. Noodle snorts a laugh then turns back around to look over the arcade as he eats.

“Can’t believe you’re trying to get me to check out your best friend, Skate,” you tease, turning to face him better and leaning one elbow on the counter. Skater blinks at you kind of dumbly, still looking surprised at his accidental encouragement. “Don’t you want to fuck me anymore, Skater?”

“Don’t say such stupid things,” he retorts, snapping back to reality to look at you with such an offended expression that you burst into giggles. “Can I record your giggles and put it as my alarm? I’ll wake up happy then,” he asks, already reaching for his phone.

“God, you’re such a freak,” Noodle comments without turning around.

Instead of answering Skater, you grab a final couple of fries then walk off with amusement pulling your lips up.

“Sunflower!” Seoyeon’s voice makes you abruptly turn and head towards her instead of going to the snack bar to get a drink.

“What’s up, Bud?” you ask as you near the girl and her dad.

“The prize is stuck,” she says with a pout, pointing at the keyring stuck in the chute of the penny machine they’ve been playing.

“Go get a new one from Skater, this one’ll smell like pennies,” you say, even as you unhook the bundle of keys from your belt.

“Do I have to get the exact same one?” she wonders, making you give her a questioning look while your fingers flick through the keys to find the correct one without looking— you’ve been doing this for so long that you know all of the keys by touch alone at this point, it’s a skill you’re rather proud of. “Dad likes the sunflower one better than the tulip,” she informs, pointing into the neighbouring machine to where the little sunflower keyring lays close to the moving shelf on top of the pennies, too far away from the chute to be worth trying.

“Mm, sure,” you consent. Seoyeon grins, then bounces over to the prize counter while you focus on unlocking the glass door.

“I uhm, thanks, for agreeing,” Seokmin says, making you glance at him and find him standing close on your right, not touching but you know it wouldn’t take much of an adjustment to brush your ass against him if you turn slightly. But you don’t. Even if you want to. “Sunflowers have always been my favourite flower.”

“I’m taking that as a personal compliment,” you joke with a wink then reach into the machine to free the stuck keyring and place it back on the pennies, before locking the door back into place.

“Ah…yeah,” he chuckles softly, sounding a little awkward and when you look at him, he looks endearingly shy, eyes diverted aside as he mindlessly plays with his earlobe. “Are they your favourite too? Seoyeon told me all staff go by a nickname here, but she doesn’t know the story behind any of them because she’s never asked.”

“No, well, I do love them, but I love all flowers; my mum raised me with a love and appreciation for all plants,” you answer as you lock the door back into place before straightening up.

“Then why are you called Sunflower? And not…Daisy or something?” he wonders, tilting his head a little as he looks at you curiously.

“When I was little, I always followed my uncle around. He was the one who ran the arcade then and he went by Sunshine, because he was always so bright and happy. I looked up to him in every way; always turned to him when he was near like a sunflower to the sun, so Sunflower came easily.”

“Oh, that’s really sweet,” Seokmin says, smiling in a way that makes your chest warm. He looks so endeared by the little story, eyes soft and tender. It’s dangerous for your heart and you suddenly want to change his expression before he gains the attention of your heart as well as your libido.

“It’s probably the only name with a deeper meaning,” you announce with a little grin as you lean against the machine behind you. “Skater got his name because he always has a skateboard, and he can’t ride it for shit.” Seokmin chokes on a laugh he tries to hold back. “It’s okay, you can laugh; he’s not shy about that at all and will admit to the root of his workname to anyone who asks.”

With your assurance, Seokmin lets himself laugh, lips lifting into a smile that makes you think your heart may get involved no matter how hard you try to stop it.

To try to counteract the fact Seokmin has started to ruin you with his smile every time he visits the arcade to spend time with his daughter, you decide to try harder to seduce the fuck out of the man. Then hopefully fuck him and stop your heart racing whenever your eyes meet in the middle of neon lights that would make anyone else look atrocious, but not Lee Seokmin.

Though, of course, you need to be subtle enough that Seoyeon doesn’t catch on, but obvious enough that Seokmin can’t ignore you or miss your hints. Which means you gradually start wearing slightly tighter clothes, lower necklines, and bend in his eyeline to give him the best view you possibly can without presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat in the middle of your family’s arcade.

Sometimes, you notice his eyes lingering on you a fraction darker than his usual gaze, but it never lasts, and he doesn’t make any kind of move or sign otherwise that he’s interested.

Thankfully, you have Skater to encourage you to step up your game, even if the guy would much rather your efforts be turned to him, but he’s far too much of a respectful dude to ever push his own wishes on anyone, especially like this.

“Do it,” Skater says, nudging you away from where you’re both leaning against an out-of-order game in wait for your aunt to arrive to fix it. You’re both in view of the prize desk so Skater can easily see if someone approaches in need of his assistance, but he’s more interested in talking to you than standing alone. Jelly already sent him away from the back office when he tried to convince her to play a fifth round of rock, paper, scissors with him to pass time.

“Bud is literally right there,” you point out in deadpan, motioning to where Seoyeon is standing and watching her dad repeatedly get destroyed in the single-player game he’s been determinedly trying to beat the level of for the past half an hour.

“I’ll distract her,” Skater offers, making you look at him suspiciously.

“What’s in it for you?”

“Can’t a guy want to help his friend get the DILF she’s been thirsting over for the past month?” he asks innocently, even rounding his eyes out. You look at him flatly, not buying his act. He quickly gives and sidles closer to you, playfully tugging on your fingers. “Come to the movie with us after shift?” he requests with a cute grin that you know he doesn’t even need to try hard to put on. The fucker is actually very attractive; if he was older and not your employee, you probably would’ve been interested in him. But he’s 22 and you sign his paycheck, so you have zero interest in him.

“That’s what you want? Me to join your and Nood’s movie date?”

“Yeah! You haven’t gone with us in ages,” he complains, pouting at you. “And he’s bringing someone he met at his dance club, so I’ll be third wheeling.”

“Are you tricking me into a double date?”

“Ew, gross, no, why would I want to date you?” he retorts, making you gasp offendedly and backhand his shoulder. He sniggers and grabs your hand to lightly swing between the two of you; you just let him, not at all opposed to the harmless affection from your friend. “You know I’d never stoop so low as to trick you into dating me. I want it to be real if it ever happens. But I’ll definitely tell everyone you let me put my hand up your shirt in the backrow.” He laughs when you shove him hard enough that he stumbles aside. “Kidding! I’ll say you offered but I said no, and-”

“She’s going to fire you one day,” your aunt— known as Doc for the fact she makes the arcade better when something goes wrong— comments as she approaches from your left, making you look over and grin at her.

“She loves me too much,” Skater responds cheekily. “No Mini-Doc today?” he asks, pouting a little at the lack of your cousin following behind her mum like usual.

“She’s with her mama, doing something I’m apparently not allowed to know,” Doc says, rolling her eyes but she’s smiling fondly, so full of love for her wife and daughter. 

“That sucks, haven’t seen MD in a while,” he admits. “Miss the little cutie.”

“She’s really into How It’s Made at the minute, so she’s been binge watching it lately, plus any show that’s remotely similar,” Doc muses as he nudges you aside to kneel in front of the machine and access the panel after placing her tool bag on the floor at her side within easy reach.

“If I didn’t know she’s adopted, I’d say she very clearly has your blood in her,” you respond, making your aunt huff a laugh while nodding in agreement.

“Oof, your DILF lost again,” Skater comments, making you look over to Seokmin and find him frowning defeatedly at the screen while Seoyeon consolingly pats his arm, then laughs when he stubbornly puts another coin into the machine to restart the game.

“Your what?” Doc sputters, half laughing and half utterly bewildered.

“Sunflower wants Bud’s dad.”

“Right…and Bud is who, exactly?”

“Oh right, you’ve not been around when she’s here,” Skater responds, humming in understanding. “Bud’s that girl over there, her name’s Seoyeon; Flower befriended her like a month ago and she’s a chill kid. We all like her and she’s almost always here after school and on weekends. Her dad joins now.”

“And you want a man with a teen?” your aunt asks, looking up at you questioningly. You look at her and make a face, shrugging. “What does that even mean?”

“He’s really hot,” you state.

Doc looks over at Seokmin consideringly then nods in agreement before turning back to the machine to begin looking inside now that she’s got the panel off, shining a little torch within to light up the inside. “How old is he?”

“42.”

Doc baulks at you. “He’s only 11 years younger than me! That’s 14 years older than you!”

“She likes older guys,” Skater says solemnly.

“You really don’t ever have a chance then,” Doc sniggers then turns back to her task while Skater makes a wounded sound that only makes her snicker again. “Now, both of you get lost so I can focus.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Skater agrees and flings his arm around your shoulders to walk with you over to the father-daughter duo without discussion. “Hey, Bud; hey, Bud’s dad.”

“Hey,” Seokmin responds, glancing over quickly; though upon noticing you, his gaze lingers, catching on the young man’s arm around your shoulders before he smiles at you with less enthusiasm than usual and focuses back on his game.

“While it’s quiet, wanna rematch?” Skater says to Seoyeon, motioning with his free hand over to the basketball hoops. Seoyeon nods enthusiastically and starts to leave but Seokmin makes a betrayed little sound that makes her step back to him.

“You’re leaving me to face this alone?” he asks, frowning at her shortly then looks back at the screen, only to die for the umpteenth time tonight. “Dammit.”

“You know, I’m an expert at this game,” you say, moving closer and making Skater’s arm drop off of your shoulders. Seokmin glances at the retreating limb, then Skater and Seoyeon as they race over to the basketball game before he looks at you properly.

“You’re an expert?” he questions, not doubting you, just curious.

“Mm, I’ve played pretty much every game in here to completion many times, and this particular one has a few little tricks I can teach you. If you’re willing to play with me.”

“I…yeah, I’m willing,” he agrees, voice a little quieter and he nods in agreement.

“It’s the third round you get stuck on, right?” you ask, moving closer to the machine, and Seokmin, to put one of the many coins you keep in the pouch around your hips into the slot, then physically place his hands on the buttons and joystick.

Seokmin yelps and quickly starts to play before he can die less than a second into the game. “Yeah, third round. Probably very lame to you, right?” he chuckles a little self-depreciatively.

“No. Everyone has to start somewhere,” you reassure, gently laying a supportive hand on his arm and resisting the temptation to appreciatively squeeze the strong muscle of his bicep you can feel even without him flexing.

As Seokmin works his way through the first two rounds, you stand close to his side, watching the screen with him while giving him tips on how to get a higher score and keep more lives as he goes.

“Please don’t judge me too harshly if I cry with frustration when I die again,” he requests as the third round loads up. You giggle amusedly and he smiles at you a little too long, long enough that his character almost dies. He yelps when you do upon noticing the danger on screen, then his hands quickly work to save his character. “I always die on this next bit.”

“Ah, yeah, there’s a like, real fucking awkward thing you need to do to clear it easily without going around and taking even longer.”

“You can go around?!” he baulks.

You laugh, nodding. “Here, let me help, it’s too late to avoid it,” you offer as a genius idea forms in your brain. Seokmin makes a curious noise, starting to move his hands but you quickly slip under his arm closest to you to stand directly in front of him with your back to his chest and your hands over his to guide his movements on the controls.

Even though his hands move easily under your touch, you know he tensed as soon as you situated yourself in the small gap between his body and the machine. You’re so close that your hips are almost pressed against it, and his initially brushed your ass, but he moved back slightly. To your great disappointment.

“Are you looking, Mr. Lee?” you ask playfully, leaning back against his chest to allow him to easier see over your shoulder at the buttons. And by buttons you do mean the game buttons, but also the open button of your shirt allowing an incredible view of your cleavage from his vantage point. You really hope he’s taking the chance to look; you chose an uncomfortable push-up bra today just because you hoped he’d enjoy how great it makes your boobs look.

“H-huh?” he responds. “Uhm, ye-yeah, yeah, I’m…looking,” he says, and you feel him shift behind you.

For a split, heart wrenching second, you think he’s going to put more distance between you, but then he subtly presses closer to you and his arms pull in slightly, loosely caging your torso. You think you could be convinced to bend over the machine right here and now and lift your skirt if he asked. You know he won’t, but damn, are you considering how much power he must have in those thick thighs brushing against the back of yours.

It takes everything in you to not screech with excitement at his actions; the silent confirmation that he’s into this, you. You really want to immediately press your ass back against him, but you think that would spook the guy considering that the past weeks of your increasing seductions have only just proved fruitful.

Although you’re more than a little distracted by the feeling of his strong body behind you and his large, warm hands under your own— making you wonder what they’d feel like elsewhere— you diligently guide him through the level until the screen flickers as his character progresses to the next round.

“Yes!” he exclaims excitedly behind you, even bouncing once in his joy and rubbing his body against yours unintentionally—while you wish it’s intentional, but beggars can’t be choosers. “Thank you, Sunflower.”

“You’re welcome,” you say as you slip out from between his arms, making him let out an alarmed little sound.

“Wait, come back,” he requests a little desperately, eyes darting between you and the game as he tries to work through the level, but his character has already died. “See, I can’t do it without you,” he says, landing a pout on you that makes your heart swell in your chest, dangerously threatening to press through your ribs like a cartoon character in its want to reach the man before you.

Clearly, the only option here is to quickly turn things around and wipe that cute pout from his face before he can do real damage. “Oh, I’m sure you can use your fingers in the exact right way,” you coo, making his pout melt away as his eyebrows lift slightly, eyes widening, and posture straightening out of his slightly sulky pout; the suggestion in your words causing him to rise in height, and to the occasion— you’d like to imagine.

“Yeah?” he responds, voice pitched a little lower, quieter; just for the two of you despite the bustle of the arcade around you.

You hum and offer a coin from your pouch. “It’s your turn to do it alone now,” you say as he takes the coin from your fingers, in no rush and letting his skin drag against yours as his gaze remains locked with yours. “Show me what you’ve learned, daddy.” Immediately, Seokmin freezes and his lips pop open, the slight darkness to his gaze abruptly lifting with shock at your words. You just smirk and let your fingers brush his once more before you lower your hand and lean against the machine in wait.

It takes a few long seconds before Seokmin snaps back to reality, swallows thickly with a few subtle nods, and then turns to the machine to slide the coin into the slot with slightly trembling fingers before they find their place on the controls.

With nothing but utter determination on his features, jaw deliciously defined as he clenches it in intense focus, Seokmin flies through not only the first three levels, but the following two, dying at a particularly tricky spot. Though instead of looking defeated or pouting again, he looks at you with big, round eyes; looking so fucking endearing that you don’t have a hope in sweet hell of stopping the racing of your heart.

“Did I do good?” he asks, so soft and innocent, so precious, which only grows when you nod, finding yourself unable to even form a single syllable right now, not when he’s thrown you for such a loop. He beams so bright and proud. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” you manage to mumble out quietly as he straightens and turns to you, looking so happy to be standing before you like this that you know that you’re absolutely fucked; and not in the way you intended. Although you’d still love to be railed within an inch of your life by Lee Seokmin, you also want to hold his warm hands and spend your time making him smile.

“So, the crane machines,” he says, motioning vaguely across the arcade without looking— in the complete wrong direction of the mentioned machines. “Do you have any tricks for those? Seoyeon has her eye on a rabbit plushie, and I’d earn World’s Best Dad if I surprise her with it,” he says with a chuckle around an almost cheeky grin.

“I think you already have it,” you respond without thought, making the man’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, before he looks aside with a shy blush, one hand tugging bashfully on his earlobe as he smiles a little dopily at the floor. “I know some tricks,” you say, making him look back up at you.

Once you’ve led him over to the crane machines— in the correct direction— Seokmin finds the one he needs, and ushers you closer to point out the toy he wants through the glass. When you nod and let him know that you can help him nab it, he lights up and excitedly collects the right number of coins from his pocket to slot into the machine.

Then, to your heart-skipping surprise, he puts one hand on the machine over the buttons, though doesn’t grab the joystick yet and instead looks at you and motions to the space in front of him in invitation, smile still on his face.

As you slot yourself between him and the machine, settling your hands over his once his left is on the joystick, you decide to no longer chase after this man for his body— though you definitely still want that— but for his heart too. It feels right to be tucked up against his chest with his arms around you and mouth murmuring near your ear, joy in his tone as you successfully grasp the right toy.

Right here and now, you decide that you need to adjust your two-step plan. You’re pretty confident that you’ve gained his attention, so part one is complete, but everything after that needs to change with your new goal in mind. Now, there’s something important that you need to do before you can even attempt to make a romantic move on the man, and it’s something you’re determined to do right.

“Earn his trust?” Skater repeats the words you just said to him as you meet outside of work— something you haven’t done in some weeks now.

It’s a weekend, and although you both usually work, you know Seoyeon has gone on a little weekend trip with her dad, so you decided to take the time off. Skater had decided to also take the weekend off and make you go to the mall with him; he hates going alone and doesn’t trust anyone but Noodle and you to actually help him not look like a giant fool where his fashion is concerned.

It’s probably a very misplaced trust, honestly, because he’s currently wearing a neon green hoodie and a tie-dyed beanie combo he's just purchased, and both you and Noodle haven’t told him how ridiculous it is. Then again, he somehow pulls it off, so you think he could probably buy anything and look good. It’s highly unfair.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” he carries on, while you continue to eye his outfit with a slight pout, wishing you could just throw on whatever and look half as good as him. Noodle is doing similarly from your right, but he’s more obvious in his displeasure at his best friend’s effortless style. You know it took Noodle twenty minutes to pick his jeans this morning, because you and Skater had been sitting outside of his apartment in your car for at least that long. But at this point, you’re both used to waiting for him.

“It means that if I want a chance with him past getting freaky in the sheets, then I need to show him that I’m worth his time. That he can rely on me; not just for him, but his daughter too. He’s a father first, daddy second,” you declare.

Both young men look at you in disgust that just makes you cackle a little before nudging them along in the line for the noodle bar that Noodle always makes the three of you eat at when you visit the mall. As if you didn’t eat here last night before going to the cinema with them and Noodle’s new dance club bestie— who insisted on being called Tiger, seeing as you all have your own nicknames, and his eyes sparkled too much in excitement at the thought for you to not go along with it.

“Ignoring that last part, I think you’ve got a good point,” Noodle says, nodding in agreement as his eyes dart between you and the line to make sure he doesn’t lose his place and risk his favourite noodles selling out before he can claim any for himself. “But surely, he already trusts you with Bud? You’ve been watching over her like every day for over a month now.”

“As a friend figure, sure. I just play games with her and keep her occupied, but I need to prove than I can be more than that. I can help her with homework; she’s told me she struggles a lot, and he’s often too busy with work that she doesn’t want to bother him. And I can drop her home sometimes. We exchanged numbers yesterday for Seoyeon’s sake, so I could definitely text him and say I can drive her home so he can go straight home and start dinner or take the chance to relax because she’s with me and I will look after her.”

“Wait, you exchanged numbers?” Skater questions, and you nod.

“For Seoyeon.”

“Right.”

“What?”

“She literally has her own phone; she can just text you herself. You don’t need to swap numbers with him for her sake,” he points out in a deadpan tone with the expression to match.

“Look, I’m pretty sure if it wasn’t for that reason, he’d have never suggested it; don’t ruin this for me, Skate,” you say, pouting slightly, though your eyebrows are furrowed a little sternly. He just holds his hands up, palms to you in defence, and wisely keeps his mouth shut.

At least for a few minutes until you’re almost at the front of the line.

“You should send him a nude,” he says then turns his head to look at you with big, serious eyes. “But send it to me first so I can give approval.”

In sync, you and Noodle shove Skater out of the line while he cackles, so pleased with himself. At least until you both refuse to let him back in the line and he whines all the way to the back.

Sometimes, the littlest victories taste so sweet. Or freshly cooked, while the loser gets the soggy, scraped from the bottom portion. Delicious.

You put your new plan into place the very first day you see Seoyeon after concocting it. As per usual, you ask her about school, and when she complains about the history project that she was told about today and only has two weeks to complete amongst all her other homework, you take her to the snack bar, sit at a table with her, and have her walk you through every piece of homework she currently has on her plate.

To your surprise, Seoyeon doesn’t argue at all, she seems enthusiastic about gaining help and doesn’t hesitate to listen attentively and obediently follow your guidance. Of course, it’s been some years since you were in school, and you definitely can’t recall having to learn all these topics, but those you can at least remember a little, you do your best to help her with.

Slowly, you manage to work through homework for two subjects— with the internet to fill in the gaps in your knowledge— before deciding the rest can wait, and she deserves to play some games.

While she’s putting away everything— after you’ve taken photos of the topics you want to do some research on to help her better tomorrow— the familiar, godly figure of Seokmin approaches, looking a little puzzled as he nears, yet still smiling.

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you with your bookbag here, Snowdrop,” he muses, alerting his daughter to his presence.

Seoyeon beams at her dad. “Sunflower helped me with my homework!”

“Oh, really?” he asks, looking genuinely surprised as he turns his entire focus to you, making you feel like you’ve melted a little into the seat under his sole attention. “You really helped her?”

“Yeah. She’s here so much that she can’t realistically have time to do it once she gets home, and I’d hate for her to get behind and get in trouble. I thought we could make this a regular thing; get some homework done before gaming,” you say with a shrug, trying to play it off when your heart is skipping over itself in worry that the man might immediately shut this down and say you’re overstepping. If he does that, you know that you’ll never have a chance with him really, and the thought makes your chest ache.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, looking a little guilty. “You have your own work to be doing; besides, it’s my job as her dad to do those things. I should really be doing it, but I’ve been focused on work and then just spending time with her, and I don’t want to force her to do homework because I know it sucks, and I–”

“Dad, you’re spiralling,” Seoyeon says, making Seokmin cut off and look down at the table as embarrassment colours his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s fine,” you insist, getting up as Seoyeon finishes packing up, so that you can put a gentle hand on Seokmin’s arm, not even paying note to his strength for once; you’re more interested in soothing the man. Your plans really have changed where he’s concerned. “You don’t need to be sorry, Seokmin,” you assure softly. He looks at you without much moving his head, mostly looking at you endearingly through his lashes. It makes your heart skip a beat. “I’m happy to help her. I really like spending time with your daughter; I come to work just to see her and spend time with her sometimes. I’m really more than happy to do my best to assist her with her homework, honest.”

“Oh…” he stares at you consideringly for a moment then lets out a breath and straightens to his natural posture, less slumped and curled in on himself in shame, and more confident, taller; shoulders back but still relaxed. He lifts one hand to place it over yours on his arm and gives you a grateful, tender kind of smile as he squeezes your hand slightly. “Thank you, Sunflower, I really appreciate everything you do for Seoyeon. She really deserves it.”

“Mm, she does. And so do you. If you need help, you can always text me and I’ll do my best.”

“I couldn’t ask you to–”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering,” you correct, voice firm and no-nonsense, yet still gentle in the way you hope to always be for him. Safety and comfort rolled into one. “You’re allowed to have someone to rely on too, Seokmin.”

“I…I am,” he agrees, nodding. “Thank you, really.”

“You’re welcome.” You smile and remove your hand to turn and look at Seoyeon, who’s standing beside the table with her backpack slung over one shoulder, and a strange, considering look on her face as she looks at you and her dad. “What’s the face?”

“I was born with it,” she retorts.

“Hey! That’s my line!” you exclaim, reaching out to prod her, making her giggle before she links her arm with yours and leads you through to the arcade with Seokmin following close behind you both, with a content smile on his face that you fail to notice the fondness in.

“We have to play a round before I go,” Seoyeon insists, leading you to the same game that the two of you always play a round on every single day she visits the arcade. It’s pretty much tradition at this point, so you don’t argue and just slip the coins into the slot and start playing, always so happy to get the privilege of spending time with the girl like this.

Over the past two weeks, it really has become typical for you to drive Seoyeon home from the arcade after school— once you’ve completed some homework and played a few rounds together, of course.

Almost every single school day, you’ve driven her home to give Seokmin time to get home without rush, get started on dinner, and do chores that can’t wait until the weekend. He still stops by sometimes, but he always texts you first to let you know that he plans to pick Seoyeon up himself, so that you don’t take her home while he’s on the way to the arcade.

Unfortunately, it’s the only reason he texts you, but you’ve kind of deluded yourself into thinking of it as some kind of co-parenting thing. You know it’s not, but it makes your heart flutter to think of it that way— even if you know, if anything, you’re just a voluntary babysitter.

Still, despite dropping the teen off for the past two weeks, you’ve never been inside her house until today. Seoyeon’s never invited you in because it hadn’t been the point of driving her home, and you’re always perfectly okay with that and expect nothing else.

Today, however, Seoyeon arrives at the arcade after school looking miserable, and you quickly realise that she’s got a cold, so you insist on taking her home so that she can rest. It goes to show how bad she feels that she doesn’t argue at all and just quietly waits at the prize desk for you to be ready, while holding the plushie Skater had given her for comfort as soon as you told him she’s ill.

Of course, you text Seokmin to let him know, and also ask permission to go inside and watch over her until he’s home before heading off. Instead of texting back, he calls five minutes later when you’re driving, so Seoyeon puts your phone on speaker for you.

“Hey, I’m driving right now, so you’re on speaker,” you announce in greeting, always wanting to be upfront with others if the call is audible to others; you’d want the same basic respect to be granted to you, after all.

“Ah, okay. Thank you for driving Seoyeon home,” Seokmin replies, voice a little quiet and low, as if he’s trying not to be heard by other people; you assume he’s with clients and has stepped out to call you quickly in private. “I’ll try to finish up here quickly and get home; you probably have to get back to work yourself and–”

“Nope. I’m done for the day now. I have no plans but to make sure Seoyeon is tucked up at home resting. Do you mind if I make some soup?”

“Oh…you’d really do that?”

“Of course. I’m great at soup!”

“I’d really appreciate that, Sunflower. Use whatever you need and let me know if you need me to pick up anything on the way home. We should have meds, but I’m not sure if there’s that many. We probably need more.”

“I’ll text you anything you’re low on and she needs.”

“Great. Thank you,” he says, letting out a big, grateful exhale. “I owe you big time.”

“Nah, it’s just what friends do, right?”

“I guess so,” he hums before his tone turns softer, even sweeter. “Sweetheart, do you want me to pick up anything on the way home?”  For a split, utterly delusional moment, you think he’s still talking to you, but then you quickly remind yourself to rein in the wishful thinking and face the reality that he’s talking to his daughter, not you.

“Ice cream?” Seoyeon requests a little hoarsely, making you frown sympathetically. “My throat hurts.”

“Okay, Snowdrop; ice cream, and honey tea,” Seokmin decides, making Seoyeon whine in complaint. “I know you don’t like honey tea, but it’s good for your throat.” Seoyeon doesn’t respond, just pouts, and you assume he must know that she’s likely to do that because he doesn’t wait long for a response, knowing he won’t gain one. “My meeting is scheduled for another almost two hours, I’m afraid. But I will get through it as quick as possible and be home as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” Seoyeon croaks. “See you soon.”

“Mm, see you soon. Rest lots and be good for Sunflower.”

“She always is,” you assure. “Don’t worry about Seoyeon; I’ve got this. You focus on your meeting and get back when you can. We’ll be waiting, so will soup.”

Seokmin chuckles. “I look forward to seeing you both, and soup, of course.”

After a final round of farewells, the call ends and you finish the drive in a calm quiet.

As soon as you and Seoyeon step into the Lee house, you send her off to get into comfy pyjamas. Once you’ve watched her trek up the stairs— to make sure she doesn’t fall down them in her groggy state— you familiarise yourself with the ground floor of the house, then head the kitchen to get started on making— what you hope— will be the most healing soup Seoyeon has ever consumed. You genuinely hate seeing her so under the weather like this; it makes your heart ache and fills you with the urge to do whatever you can to make her feel even a little bit better.

When Seoyeon joins you again, she’s dressed in pyjamas so soft and cosy that you immediately ask her where she got them so that you can get yourself a pair, earning an amused, though snuffy giggle.

“Feeling a bit more human now you’re in cosy clothes, not your uniform?” you ask, gently brushing her hair back from her forehead so that you can feel her temperature, while your other hand stirs the contents of the pan on the hob before you, even if your eyes are on her.

“Bit,” she agrees with a nod.

“I found meds,” you inform, removing your hand from her warm skin to point to the counter behind you. Seoyeon automatically looks over, then toddles the few steps to obediently take the medication laid out for her beside a glass of water. “And I text your dad to pick up some more, and orange juice. I always get a craving for oranges when I’m ill, and juice is easier than chewing when your noise is stuffy.”

“Dad always gives me orange juice when I’m ill, for the vitamin c.”

“Great minds think alike,” you joke, wiggling your eyebrows at the teen, making her laugh, though break into a few coughs that makes you frown in sympathy. “Why don’t you go get all snug on the sofa? Put on a movie and I’ll join you soon.”

“Oh…Can…Can we watch Toy Story?” she requests shyly, making you tilt your head slightly in question. “Just…it’s…We always watch it when one of us are ill; it’s kind of tradition.”

“Oh. Don’t you want to wait for your dad?” Seoyeon’s face falls a little. “I’m happy to watch it, seriously; I love that movie. But I don’t want to take something special from you if it’s something you do with your dad, Bud.”

“Ah, I suppose,” she agrees quietly, nodding in understanding. “Do you have a movie you watch when you’re ill?”

“Beauty and The Beast,” you answer without hesitation.

“I’m going to watch that,” she decides with another nod, then turns and toddles into the living room with her glass of water before you can say anything in response. Not that you have anything to say, just a smile full of fondness for the girl on your face even as you turn back to cooking.

It’s a little more than two hours since ending the phone call with Seokmin that he enters the house, rustling with the bags in his hands, and calling out to say he’s home, concern in his voice.

“In here!” Seoyeon calls back, sounding a fair amount better now that she’s had some meds, soup, and dozed against your shoulder for the last half an hour of Beauty and the Beast. She’s much more alert now yet still tucked up against you and seeming more than content to remain as she is. Honestly, you don’t want to move either; it’s far too nice.

“Oh,” Seokmin says as he steps into view, both shopping bags in one hand and expression turning soft as it lands on the two of you. “You two look…” he doesn’t finish his words, but his smile somehow grows a little more tender. “I’ll put this away, make your tea, and then–”

“I can do it,” you offer, beginning to remove your arm from around Seoyeon, unaware that she’s pouting as you do, your attention on Seokmin. “I’ll handle that and you can go get out of your work clothes.”

“No, no, you stay there,” Seokmin insists, waving his hands at you. “You both look comfy and I refuse to let you move. Stay,” he demands, pointing at you and looking suddenly stern in a way you hadn’t even thought his features could grow, voice firm and no-nonsense.

Obediently, you settle back into place, eyes a little wide and you’re pretty sure very obvious that you’re a little…into being told what to do by the man. Seokmin’s head tilts almost imperceptibly as he considers your reaction before his lips tilt into a hint of a smirk. He doesn’t say or do anything more before turning and going to the kitchen.

“Will you stay to watch Toy Story with us?” Seoyeon requests as she begins to search for the movie on the streaming app on the TV.

“Do you want me to?” you ask, turning your head just enough to look at her. She nods, still looking at the TV. “Then of course I’ll stay.” Seoyeon looks at you, smiling so genuinely happy at your agreement that you know you’ll never be able to reject her requests to spend time together, not when you know it makes her eyes shine like this.

A little under twenty minutes later, Seokmin is back, dressed in his own comfy pyjamas, hair damp, and skin shiny and tinted red from the quick shower he just had to wash the day of work away. He’s got a bowl in one hand, and a mug in the other, which he hands to Seoyeon. The teen groans in complaint, but she begrudgingly accepts the mug to sip at the contents while her dad sits on her right side, an amused little smile on his face from her reaction.

“How you feeling now, Snowdrop?” Seokmin asks as he settles comfortably in his place, pulling his bowl closer and gently stirring the steaming contents within. Your stomach warms strangely as you realise that he’s about to try your cooking for the first time; you hope he likes it and will let you cook for him again one day.

“Better than earlier, still not great,” Seoyeon answers honestly, lips protruding into a displeased pout above her mug. You notice Seokmin’s expression match it despite the fact he’s not even looking at her, upset because his daughter is, and it makes you smile to yourself to see the care— and similarities— between the father-daughter duo.

“I’ll get you some ice-cream after I’ve eaten this.”

“It’s really good; Sunflower’s a really good cook.”

“It smells delicious,” Seokmin enthuses, eyes glued to the soup and looking far more excited than anyone should be about a very basic vegetable soup. Both you and Seoyeon watch as he blows on his first spoonful carefully before tentatively putting it in his mouth, cautious of the heat. It takes a second for him to register the food in his mouth properly before he makes a pleased, enthusiastic hum of a sound and dives in for more. “It is really good. You’ll have to give me the recipe, Sunflower.”

“I just threw things together,” you admit with a soft laugh, which grows when he levels you a surprised look.

“No secret family recipe?” he questions, tone light and playful.

“If it was a secret family recipe, I couldn’t exactly tell you, could I?” you joke back with a grin.

“Ah, I suppose not,” he agrees with a laugh. “Unless I adopt you.” Immediately, your expression twists in disgust and his smile drops. “Hey! I’m a great dad!”

“I’m aware,” you respond, nodding a little. “I just really do not want that at all. Plus, you’re not that much older than me!” you point out.

“I’m 14 years older than you,” he deadpans. “Over a decade.”

“And? That means nothing.”

Seokmin’s expression does something odd now; turns considering with a hint of something you can’t name but really wish you could. It feels important and you can’t help but hold his gaze as you try to figure it out, aware that his eyes are growing more intense with every passing moment and thought flicking behind them.

If it wasn’t for Seoyeon speaking up after a few moments, you get the feeling neither you nor Seokmin would’ve looked away, and that intensity would’ve only grown to something you really hope to experience one day— just preferably when his daughter isn’t literally sitting right between you.

“Can we watch Toy Story now?” she asks, looking between you and her dad with big eyes.

Seokmin immediately drags his gaze away from you and looks down into the space between you to smile obligingly at his daughter. “Of course, Snowdrop.”

The three of you get comfy facing the TV and settle down to fulfil a Lee house ill-day tradition. You hope that it’s only the start of being invited to join family traditions with the pair. You’d really like that.

Thankfully, Seoyeon isn’t ill for long, but she does pass it on to her dad, so you take up driving her home straight from school the few days Seokmin is curled up in bed fighting the bug. Although he had tried to insist he can still cook and look after the house on the first day, you had promptly ordered him back to bed, put dinner on to cook, then went out to get more meds as he hadn’t anticipated getting ill himself when he bought them for Seoyeon a handful of days before he fell ill. 

Seokmin doesn’t seem to mind that you take up spending the evenings in his living room with Seoyeon— doing your best to help her with homework. Then again, he doesn’t surface past the first time you sent him swiftly back to bed upon seeing his red nose and watery eyes. You do, however, make sure to send Seoyeon up to check on him routinely. You’d do it yourself, but you think that’s probably a step too far, and then he’d definitely kick you out for entering his private room uninvited.

It's Sunday by the time you see Seokmin again, when he joins you and Seoyeon in the kitchen as you both try to figure out how to work the mini candyfloss machine that you bought on a whim at the supermarket that morning while stocking up on groceries for both households.

“What’s that?” Seokmin asks, drawing both of your attention. He’s standing at the kitchen doorway, looking almost like the man you’re used to. You know, other than the fact he’s in a plain white t-shirt and shorts of all things. Thankfully, he’s focused on the machine on the counter as he nears, because your own focus is a lot lower, stuck to his gloriously thick thighs and wondering if maybe you’re the ill one now and this is some kind of fever induced hallucination. Those thighs cannot be real.

“Candyfloss machine,” Seoyeon answers, flapping the manual in his direction, making him pluck it from her fingers to begin to read the page she has it open on. “The instructions are worded really weird.”

“Mm, they are,” he agrees, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to focus, and yet still, you’re gawping at his thighs.

Somehow, the father-daughter duo doesn’t notice your obvious staring of the man’s delicious thighs, and you manage to snap out of your horny-daze all on your own.

Between the three of you, you manage to decode the ridiculous manual and produce three wild— and wildly pathetic— sticks of candyfloss. There’s more of the treat covering the machine, counters, and the three of you than the sticks, but you’re all laughing, and although you know this will be quite the clean up, you don’t care. You’re already planning to search online for different coloured and flavoured sugars to try next week with the hope of making the pair look as happy as they do right now.

Honestly, now that Seokmin and Seoyeon are both back to full health and there’s no reason for you to spend so much time at their house, you keep expecting Seokmin to politely tell you to fuck off home. You know Seoyeon won’t, because she’s always so happy to have you around; both to just hang out, and because since you’ve started to do homework with her, she’s been less behind at school and doesn’t struggle as much.

Yet every time you drive Seoyeon home on days Seokmin doesn’t pick her up— or join her at the arcade if it’s a weekend—, she still invites you in and you’re still there hours later. You only leave when she’s gone off to bed and you’ve finished cleaning up whatever the two of you have used, and Seokmin always walks you to the door.

Tonight is no different; Seoyeon went up to bed ten minutes ago and now you’re finishing cleaning the kitchen counters so that Seokmin doesn’t have to do it. Though he’s right behind you, loading the last dishes into the dishwasher. It’s so fucking domestic it makes you want to scream. But in a good way. And kind of a horny way. But mostly a wholesome, yearning sort of way.

“You know, Seoyeon’s teacher called me today,” Seokmin starts, making you immediately drop the cloth in your hand to spin and look at him. He’s already leaning back against the counter and facing you; arms crossed casually across his chest and a little smile on his face. It makes you relax, understanding that it can’t be bad if he’s still got that natural little smile he always wears on his face.

“Is that normal? Random calls?” you ask, still a little worried though, because you’re always worried about Seoyeon where her schooling is concerned. You know she really struggles with most of her lessons except creative ones. She excels in art, but everything else isn’t easy for her and the school only helps so much.

Seoyeon still doesn’t have any friends either and you worry she is isolated socially. Though she has mentioned a few classmates a handful of times, but you know she doesn’t consider them friends, just nicer classmates who are willing to talk to her and work with her despite her being at the bottom of the class academically. At the very least, she doesn’t seem to get picked on for being quiet and behind compared to the rest of the class. Still, you always worry that one day she’ll come home in tears and admit she’s been hiding it, or that things have changed for the worst.

Seokmin nods in answer to your question. “She’s still the newest student, and well, you know she struggles academically and hasn’t really made any friends, so the staff keep a close eye on her.”

“Ah, I see. I’m glad they care enough to do that.”

“Me too,” he agrees, smile lifting a little more. “It’s a really good school; supportive and everything about these things. They just don’t have the staff to give her more focus to help with her studies, and I don’t want to make her go to catch up clubs; I know she’d hate them.”

“She would. I think you’re doing the right thing by her, even if the school probably tries to guilt you into thinking otherwise.”

“Oh, you do?” His tone softens and his arms unfold to slide down to hang by his sides as he looks at you in a touched kind of way. You nod. “Thank you, that means a lot to me. They have bugged me about sending her to clubs, and even changing her to a different class, but then she’d be with younger students and held back a year and I really don’t want her to go through that. Especially not now that she’s settled and gotten used to her classmates and routine.”

“She’d be right back where she started.”

He hums and nods. “Exactly. I’m really glad you agree and I have your support with this. And that Seoyeon does too. That’s actually what the call was about.”

You give him a bewildered look and point to yourself. “Me? It was about me?”

“Well, technically, yes,” he confirms with a chuckle. “More like how much better Seoyeon is doing lately. Ever since you started to do homework with her, she’s picked up a lot more. Her classwork is improving and she’s more confident now; she raised her hand for the first time today to ask a question! She’s never asked for clarification before, especially not in front of the whole class.”

“Oh, she did?” you ask, lifting your hands to press one against your suddenly warm heart. Hearing that the shy, anxious girl felt brave enough to push past her fear of drawing attention to her struggles really makes your chest feel so full.

You know it’s a little thing to most, something that a lot of kids start doing in their first years of school, but you’re so proud of Seoyeon that you wish she was still downstairs so that you could give her a giant hug. You know bringing attention to her act could potentially lead to her retreating and not raising her hand in class again, so you wouldn’t mention it, just hold her and hopefully silently let her know how much you care about her.

“That… I really want to hug her right now,” you admit, making Seokmin laugh softly. “I’m so proud of her.”

“I get it, I want to squeeze her and smother her in praise, but it’s probably better to not mention it in case she gets embarrassed about her teacher calling me to say that.”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” you agree. “I’m going to have to squeeze a pillow when I get home instead.”

“Or…” Seokmin says, suddenly talking quieter, almost timid as he pushes off of the counter and takes a step towards you. “You can hug me?” he offers, giving you a shy smile as he opens his arms to the side a little in invitation.

“Hug you?” you repeat dumbly, staring up at him with big, surprised eyes.

He nods a little jerkily. “If–if you want to. If you’re comfort–” before he’s even finished, you step forward into his space. It’s Seokmin’s eyes that widen now. It seems like he hadn’t expected you to accept his offer. Though he doesn’t move away, doesn’t take it back, so you move even closer and carefully wrap your arms around his waist. A little stiltedly, Seokmin’s arms close around you, enveloping your body in a warmth and comfort you never want to let go of.

You really don’t know if you’ll ever get another chance to be held by Seokmin, so you decide to take full advantage of the moment and tuck up against his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder and just enjoy it while you can.

When Seokmin moves, you’re expecting him to let go, to remove your arms from him and politely tell you that he’s not comfortable with that kind of affection from you; that you’ve gone too far, and he would like it if you don’t touch him again. As much as you don’t want him to say any of that— even knowing he’d be so fucking gentle and considerate about it, because that’s just the kind of man he is— you’re as ready for it as you can be; ready to remove your arms and kiss goodbye to any miniscule chance of getting to ever kiss him.

What you aren’t ready for, however, is for Seokmin’s arms to not fall away, but tighten. For him to not step back, but closer. For him to do anything but curl down to rest his head against yours and let out a breath as if he’s been waiting for this moment. For this comfort. You don’t know if he’s just missed having this kind of affection with another adult, or if it’s because it’s you he’s holding in his arms like you belong there, but you let your delusions win out this time and pretend that it’s the second option.

Time ceases to exist, ceases to have meaning as you stand motionlessly in the kitchen holding one another. You think you could be happy doing nothing but this for the rest of your life. But there’s truth to the saying ‘all good things must end’, and slowly, Seokmin’s hold loosens, silently telling you that it’s time to let go now.

The two of you unwind your arms from one another and take a step back to put a more respectable distance between you, though you notice that it’s not as respectable as it could be. Seokmin hasn’t gone far or prompted you to move further, so you lift your gaze to look at him, only to find him already looking down at you.

There’s something in the air between you, something that slips under your skin and fills your chest, makes your heart race thickly with anticipation and hope.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seokmin’s right arm lift, though you don’t look at it, don’t dare break the locked gaze; it feels too important. Still, you’re so aware of it raising in your peripheral. Of his fingers extending a little. Of him reaching out. Yet, he doesn’t touch.

Seokmin drops his arm just as his fingers are about to brush your cheek, so close that you can already almost feel his touch. He steps back and breaks the eye contact, turning instead back to the dishwasher to turn it on while you can only stare at his back, your chest tight and heart aching.

You make sure to gather yourself and turn before he does, so that you can finish wiping down the side and focus on something other than that it feels like rejection despite the fact you hadn’t done anything.

Like every night, Seokmin walks you to the door when you leave. Like every night, he thanks you for coming over and being so helpful to his little family. Like every night, he remains at the door to watch you get in your car and drive away. But for the first time, you don’t have a content little smile on your face, only a frown as you try to understand what happened tonight.

Sometimes, your parents like to suggest that you should really get some new friends— ones you don’t work with, namely— and you always dismiss the suggestion and assure them that you’re more than content with the friends you do have. However, it’s times like this when you reluctantly think there’s some merit to your parents’ words.

“Forget about him! I’ll adopt a cat and be a DILF instead!” Skater exclaims, waving his beer bottle around where he’s half melded with his favourite beanbag in his apartment— an apartment he shares with Noodle, of course.

You’ve just told the pair what happened the other night with you and Seokmin; how you could’ve sworn he was reaching out to caress your cheek, to lean in and claim your lips for his own. Yet, he didn’t and turned away and if nothing had happened. Of course, nothing had happened, but you really fucking wanted it to.

Noodle is still nibbling on his last slice of pizza like a tipsy little mouse. You can’t tell if he keeps forgetting that he’s in the midst of eating as the three of you talk and joke around, or if he’s just genuinely savouring the fancy, stone baked pizza from the fancy Italian restaurant. At least most of it, because you know that as soon as he’s finished taking his tiny little bites of the middle and topping, he’ll pass the crust to Skater, who will eat it without complaint. You’ve witnessed this very routine many times over the years, but only with this specific restaurant’s pizza, despite the crust genuinely being delicious; part of you has a feeling it’s more to do with the fact that Skater weirdly loves the crust than Noodle not liking it.

“CILF,” Noodle mumbles, making you and Skater glance at him, then crack up at his half dazed, yet semi-serious expression; eyes unfocused as he stares blankly ahead. “Huh?” he asks after blinking himself back to reality and straightening up where he’s sitting cross legged on the other end of the sofa to you.

“You’re so cute, Nood,” you coo, reaching over to ruffle his hair. He just grins at you, then returns to imitating a pizza-loving mouse.

“Back to Bud’s dad being a fucking idiot,” Skater decides, making you both look at him and find him frowning a little. “What kind of a man, no, what kind of a person wouldn’t kiss you given the chance?!”

“Me,” Noodle declares.

“You’re barely a person,” Skater dismisses while waving a hand vaguely. Noodle immediately throws the last of his pizza— essentially just crust now— at his best friend. It thwacks Skater in the face, and both you and Noodle burst into laughter. Instead of retaliating, Skater just takes it as a flying food gift and picks the crust up from where it fell onto his partially reclined torso to shove half of it straight into his mouth.

“He’s right though,” you decide, looking at Noodle, who looks at you in betrayal. “You’re probably like 80% noodle at this point.”

Noodle laughs as he nods. “You’re right.”

“What’s the other 20?” Skater ponders aloud. “At least 18% dance.”

“I think I’m more dance than that,” Noodle offers.

“He’s right,” you agree. “Okay, let’s say…70% noodle, 20% dance, and 10% thighs and ass.”

“Have you been looking at his ass?!” Skater exclaims indignantly while Noodle just cackles away, pleased with your decision and finding his best friend hilarious as he goes on a rant about how it’s unfair that you don’t look at his ass.

You don’t correct Skater that you have— and still do— look at his ass when it’s in your line of sight; you think it’s funnier watching him whine and turn his big babyboy eyes on you as he tries to convince you to check out his ass— and whole body— every time you see him, for the sake of his wounded ego.

The topic of the last time you saw Seokmin doesn’t come up for the rest of the night and part of you regrets it the next morning, because now you’re no closer to figuring out what the fuck happened and what you’re supposed to do about it.

But mostly, you’re just glad you got to spend time with the pair and are reminded exactly why you tell your parents that you’re happy with the friends you have.

Although you don’t want to admit it, you’ve come to understand that you must’ve been wrong about Seokmin’s interest in you. You’ve seen him multiple times since that night in his kitchen, and despite him being his usual friendly self, there’s something that flickers in his eyes when he looks at you. Something that looks hesitant, worried almost, and your chest aches as you consider that he doesn’t know how to act with you now.

You think that either he regrets the tension in his kitchen that night, that he regrets trying to reach out; or he realised in that moment how much you want him, and he hadn’t understood before that you no longer just want to have sex with him. Maybe he only wants meaningless sex, but you’ve ruined it by gaining feelings for him, and he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he’s trying to figure out how to let you down easy or put a boundary up between you.

As much as Seokmin doesn’t want to hurt you, you don’t want to hurt him either or put him in an uncomfortable position; so, you back off a little.

Of course, you don’t stop spending time with the Lee family. You still drive Seoyeon home a few times a week and stay to help her with her homework and hang out. You still text Seokmin to ask if they need anything from the store while you’re doing your own shopping. You still joke with him and keep a friendly relationship. But that’s as far as you go.

You no longer make suggestive jokes that he doesn’t always catch but always looks at you in slight disbelief when he does, as if he can’t believe you’ve said that. You no longer let your hand linger over his a second too long when passing him items. You no longer look at him with adoration in your gaze and heart beating wildly when you admire him smiling with his daughter.

You’re doing all you can to put a respectable emotional distance between you, to just be his friend. Even if it’s one of the hardest things you’ve ever done. But if that’s what you need to do to be able to remain in the lives of the father-daughter duo for a long time, you’ll do it and hope for nothing more. Even if it hurts.

One night, just as you’re about to leave the Lee house after the usual routine of helping Seokmin clean up, the doorbell rings. Seokmin chuckles as you immediately step backwards from the door, lowering your hand from where you had been inches from grasping the handle, and instead motion him to it.

As he opens the door, you remain behind it out of sight in wait for his visitor to leave so that you can take your own leave. You probably could’ve just stepped out and let him greet his visitor then, but it hadn’t occurred to you until now and Seokmin doesn’t seem bothered that you’re behind the door, so you don’t feel bad about it.

Though you do feel awkward very quickly when you tune into the conversation that you had purposely not paid attention to for privacy’s sake, when you hear him chuckle awkwardly. Now, you can hear that his visitor is a woman and, judging by her tone, she’s flirting and flirting hard.

Curious about the woman— who Seokmin clearly knows judging by how easily they converse, even if he’s awkwardly avoiding the flirtations, much to your relief— you cautiously move aside a little to peer through the gap above the door hinge to get a glimpse of the visitor.

You have to admit, she’s really pretty. The kind of pretty that would look perfectly at place hanging off of one of Seokmin’s strong arms. Visually, the pair really suit each other, they even seem of similar age, and it makes an irrational little flicker of insecurity appear in your chest. Clearly, Seokmin has no interest in this woman— though she doesn’t seem to get the hint— so what hope does that give you if he won’t give this well-matched woman a chance.

Thankfully, Seokmin manages to politely end the conversation shortly, and instead of keeping the door open to let you leave as the woman walks away, he shuts the door and leans his forehead against it with a heavy exhale.

“She’s pretty,” you comment without thought, making him tilt his head to look at you questioningly.

“She is,” he confirms as if it’s simple fact, an easy observation and nothing more than that. Like saying a flower is pretty. Actually, you’ve heard him compliment flowers much more enthusiastically than this.

“She clearly likes you,” you say, wishing you would shut up but unable to stop the words coming out as he straightens and turns to face you properly. “But you…don’t seem interested in her.”

“I’m not,” he says immediately, voice unwavering in a way that almost makes you think he’s making sure you know that. That he has no interest in that woman whatsoever, nor will he. But you don’t let yourself think that. You can’t let that hope return to your chest, even if the hole it left behind those weeks ago aches every time you see him.

“Why not?”

“What?” He frowns at you in bewilderment. “Do I need a specific reason?”

“No, sometimes you just don’t like people and that’s fine,” you assure with a little nod. “I’m just…wondering. Like, haven’t you even entertained the thought of a date with her?”

“No. She’s my neighbour and she’s away for work a lot, and from what she says, it’s often last minute.”

“Oh, you want to know your partner is there.”

“Not for me, well, not really.” He sighs softly then glances at his watch before chewing on his lip nervously while returning his gaze to you. “Do you need to get home right now? Can you stay for a bit?”

“Oh…you want me to stay?” you question surprised.

“There’s something I’d like to talk to you about. It’s…important.”

“Oh, okay,” you agree and remove your shoes to place neatly on the place on the low rack— a place that used to house a spare pair of Seokmin’s dress shoes, but you haven’t seen those in a while and there is always a gap for your shoes now. You try not to think of the potential fact that Seokmin purposely put his shoes away in his room to make space for yours. A space for you.

Seokmin is in the kitchen when you enter the living room, and you can hear the kettle boiling, so you take a seat on the sofa and wait.

Minutes later, Seokmin joins you, placing two mugs down on the coasters still in place on the coffee table from your drinks earlier. His mug has a photo of baby Seoyeon printed on, a little worn with use, but still treasured. Your mug is new, newer than even your presence in the house; it’s dotted with sunflowers and yellow love hearts.

“So, uhm, has Seoyeon ever mentioned her mother?” he asks once he’s settled, leaning his right side against the back of the sofa so that he’s facing you, with his right arm braced on the back rest, and his right leg bent, foot tucked behind his left knee.

“Not once,” you answer honestly. It’s genuinely never occurred to you to question it either; sometimes it’s just better to not ask where missing parents are.

“I’m not surprised, she hasn’t mentioned her for a long time, since she was really little and before she understood what happened. But I just wondered; in case she mentioned something to you. I know she tells you pretty much everything, so it might’ve come up, or maybe you got curious.”

“I mean, yeah, I’ve been curious, but it’s not my business. If either of you want me to know, you’ll tell me without being prompted to,” you respond with a shrug.

“I really appreciate that. So many people hear that I’m a single parent and assume her mother died when Seoyeon was young, because obviously, that’s the only reason a mother wouldn’t be around,” he says with a sarcastic note to his voice, rolling his eyes a little too. You hum softly, letting him know that you understand what he means, even if not on a personal level. “She left us,” he says bluntly, making your eyebrows raise a little, more surprised about how he got right to the point. “She suddenly decided that she doesn’t want children when Seoyeon was only 4 months old.”

“What the fuck? She didn’t know that before?” you question flabbergasted.

“That’s the thing,” he says, sighing heavily. “It wasn’t like Seoyeon was a happy little accident; we planned for her. We got married at 22 and agreed to make sure we were completely financially stable before even thinking about extending our family. Then we were, and she said she wasn’t ready. So, we waited, and waited, and one day she told me she was ready. We planned everything; gave her time to be certain before she even stopped taking birth control. She seemed so excited and happy throughout the pregnancy too. I still don’t understand, and I don’t think I ever will, honestly.”

“That must’ve broken your heart,” you comment softly, sympathetically.

“It did,” he confirms with an almost sad little smile, but it doesn’t last, as if he was just being sympathetic to his memories and doesn’t truly hurt over it anymore. “But I wasn’t going to force her to stay. I didn’t want Seoyeon to grow up raised by a mother who doesn’t want her. So, we divorced and I had her sign full custody to me. She has no rights over my daughter and never will.”

“Good, she doesn’t deserve to be in Seoyeon’s life. Seoyeon deserves nothing but the best; to be loved until she bursts with it.”

Seokmin’s lips lift into a soft kind of smile as he nods in agreement to your words, gentle gaze glued to you and making a riot of your heart. “She really does. She always comes first, and I refuse to bring someone into her life who won’t be there for her.”

“Ah,” you say, understanding his lack of interest in his neighbour now. “I get it. I’d want the same for her if I were you.”

“I’m glad you agree,” he says softly, lowering his gaze to find your hands where they’re laid loosely on your lap. His hand on his own lap twitches a little, and for a second, you think he’s going to reach out to take your hand into his hold, but he presses his palm to his thigh and looks back up at you. “She’s never had a mother figure, so I don’t want to ever rush into things with someone if I’m not positive they’ll be around and willing to one day be a kind of mum to her. I wouldn’t expect it right away, of course, but I’m 42, Seoyeon is 14; we’re both too old to not be serious about who I bring into our family.”

“I understand.”

“You do?” He straightens a little and you nod at him.

“Yeah. You both deserve someone who is secure in where they are in life and knows where they want to go too. I…I hope you find that,” you say, wishing you could tell him that you’d be willing to fulfil that role right now, but you don’t want to push him when he needs to be ready on his own to open his heart to you. You don’t know if he ever will be, but that traitorous little hole in your chest fills slightly as a little hope slots back into place.

You hope that you’ve been proving yourself to him; that you’re more than willing to look after Seoyeon and stick around as much as she wants you to, no matter what happens between you and Seokmin. You hope that he understands that, but you’re really not sure and decide to just be patient and wait for the day he lets you know one way or the other.

Before you know it, the summer holidays come around, and you see less of Seoyeon. Due to schools being closed for the holidays and tourists popping up, Rainy Days Arcade faces a much higher level of foot traffic. Which, unfortunately, means that you don’t have as much time while at work to spend with Seoyeon, nor can you leave work early to drive her home.

Although she does still visit, it’s not often and not for long, not wanting to get caught up in the bustle of the arcade— even Skater can’t keep her company at the prize desk, and she gets mistaken for an employee when she sits there so often that she doesn’t want to risk it. You don’t blame her for picking her nice, quiet house over the hectic summer season of the arcade.

Every time you have a day off though— which is rare in the summer— you make sure to call her up to hang out, either at her house, or you’ve taken on going for drives to various places. Sometimes you just spend hours driving, listening to music, and stopping only so she can take photos, or for toilet breaks. You even bought her a travel painting kit, so on days you tell her you’ve packed a picnic, she brings the kit and the two of you sit on a blanket for hours as she contently paints, humming along to the music playing through your Bluetooth speaker.

Even though you know today will be a busy day at the arcade as it’s a Wednesday and they’re always busy, you have the day off. It’s not through choice, but a strict rule at Rainy Days Arcade where no-one can work on their birthday. So, of course, you plan to take advantage of that fact, and after responding to the barrage of birthday wishes in the work group chat, you message Seoyeon to check if she’s busy.

It doesn’t take long for her to excitedly agree to hang out, and add that her dad has today off too, so he can join!

You haven’t really seen much of Seokmin lately, even rarer than Seoyeon, but he does pop by on his own sometimes on his way home from work, to say hi and make sure you’re looking after yourself. You never point out that he can just text you to do that; you like seeing his handsome face too much to ever refuse his presence.

And today is no exception. You respond to Seoyeon just as enthusiastically to let her know you’ve still got to get ready, but you can come pick them up in half an hour. Moments later, she says they’ll come pick you up instead and her dad will drive; at his own insistence so that you can be the passenger princess for once. Thinking of Seokmin calling you princess, even indirectly, makes you giggle dopily before simply agreeing, then you rush off to get showered and dressed.

As soon as you step out of your front door and onto the exterior landing, you spot Seokmin’s car in the parking lot, a level below you. He must spot you too, because as you lock your door, he gets out of the driver’s seat and walks around to the passenger door in wait.

The moment you’re close enough to the car a minute later, Seokmin opens the door with a flourish, bowing at you. “Your carriage awaits,” he says, making you giggle.

“Why, thank you,” you respond with a curtsy, playing along without hesitation, making him grin at you. He offers his hand to help you into the car, then shuts the door and rushes around to the driver’s side as you turn in your seat to greet Seoyeon in the back. She’s already got her camera in her hands and lifts it to take a photo of you. You’re far used to it by now to do anything other than grin at her. When Seokmin is seated, he turns and grins too, making Seoyeon giggle and take a few photos of the both of you cheesing at her from the front seats.

“So, where to?” Seokmin asks once you’re both turned around and strapped in securely, as he starts the car back up.

“East,” Seoyeon declares, earning a questioning look from her dad. “What?”

“That’s very vague,” he points out.

“We rarely have a specific destination in mind when we go on drives,” you explain, making Seokmin hum in understanding and start to drive.

As the car reaches the end of the lot and he has to make a turn, he hesitates. “Do either of you have a compass on you?” he asks, making you and Seoyeon both giggle amusedly.

“Just go right,” you say.

“Yes, ma’am,” he agrees, sending a lick of heat into your stomach as he obeys your directions without hesitation.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s always so obedient; you remember how sweet he looked that day when you taught him how to play the game and he asked if he did a good job. You bet he’d look even better looking up at you from between your thighs as he asks for praise for doing such a good job.

Thankfully— or unfortunately, because it’s a really fucking good mental image—, Seokmin talks again, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to reality. The reality where he’s driving the car at your side and his daughter is in the backseat behind you both. “Have you eaten? We were thinking of stopping for breakfast pretty quickly. But we can get something to eat in the car.”

“There’s this really good place at the edge of town; On the Edge Café,” you inform. “Have you been?”

“No, but I remember passing it a few times. We can definitely go there.”

“Sound good, Bud?” you ask, peering over your shoulder at Seoyeon, who just nods in agreement. “We have approval,” you announce, making Seokmin chuckle as he smoothly switches lanes ready for the upcoming turn.

“I’ve been meaning to ask about that,” he comments in a thoughtful tone. “I’ve noticed you and the arcade staff all call her Bud. I thought it was just like buddy at first, but it seems more like a standalone nickname.”

“Ah, it’s a bit of both really. It’s short for buddy, yeah, but everyone essentially considers her once of us, minus the working part, of course. Don’t worry, we’re not putting your daughter to work or anything,” you assure jokingly, making him laugh. “Everyone who works there, or is there enough to be one of us, has their own nickname. Seoyeon is Bud both because she’s our precious friend, and because well, she’s still growing and we don’t know what she’ll flower into, but we all know it’ll be beautiful and we’re excited to find out when the day comes.”

“Oh, that’s…she really will flower beautifully, won’t she,” Seokmin agrees in a tone so tender and full of love that even though it’s not directed to you, you can feel it all the same.

After breakfast, Seokmin drives East— or at least heads right as none of you care to actually be accurate about which direction you go— for hours without complaint.

The three of you sing along to the radio and you’re immediately besotted with his singing voice; which is how you find out that he’s been hiding his singing habit. According to Seoyeon, the man is always singing when you’re not around, but he hadn’t wanted to annoy you, while also being out of practise singing around anyone but his daughter, so he had been too shy to sing in front of you. You don’t hesitate to shower him in praise and make him promise to sing around you more, earning the cutest little shy yet pleased smile from the man, matched with prettily pinkened cheeks.

Eventually, Seokmin pulls over to do something on his phone, angling the screen away from you, making you give him a questioning look due to the playful way he’s doing it, making him giggle but he doesn’t show you. You can only look away to hide your dopey ass grin at his fucking adorable giggle.

He hands his phone to Seoyeon behind you and tells her to guide him, then he drives again. Seoyeon diligently follows the directions he must’ve found on his phone until Seokmin is parking in a little dirt parking lot with space for only a dozen cars at most. The lot is nestled just within a mass of trees, and although they don’t block out the summer sun, you can’t really see very far through them.

“Have you been here before? It must be a great photo spot for Bud,” you comment as the three of you get out of the car.

“No, I didn’t know about it until now,” Seokmin admits, walking to the boot to open it and pull out a picnic blanket and an insulated backpack.

“Did you pack a picnic?” you ask in shocked awe.

“Just a few things, it’s nothing special!” he insists, cheeks flushing pink as you take the blanket from him while he shuts the boot and locks his car. “Please don’t expect a lot.”

“I expect nothing, and this is already way above that. We should invite you to join us more often,” you tease and sling your arm around Seoyeon’s shoulders as the three of you head further into the trees along the trodden path.

Very quickly, you let go of Seoyeon and take her backpack from her to allow her to dart around taking photos of everything that catches her artistic eye.

“Do you know where we’re going or are we walking until we find a spot?” you wonder as Seokmin falls into step at your side.

“I know. Well…I hope I know,” he admits with a sheepish smile.

“So long as she’s happy, we could sit in the car park and I’d be happy. Well, provided we were in a safe place, I really don’t fancy getting run over today.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen,” he assures with a playful wink. “Gotta keep my passenger princess safe, right?”

“Does that make you my knight in shining armour?”

“Happily.” He sounds so honest, so certain, that you can’t help but turn your head away in hopes he won’t see the blush that suddenly rushes to darken your cheeks as your heart races almost violently in the abrupt strength of it.

A little under ten minutes of casual strolling later, stopping when Seoyeon gets particularly invested in getting a specific shot, or Seokmin puts his hand on you to prompt you to look at something— a touch you relish in, and pretend to not see what he’s showing you just so that he’ll move closer to you and keep his hand on your waist for longer—, the three of you step out onto an expanse of lush grass stretching out ahead of you up a little incline.

Seoyeon immediately gasps in excitement and runs off ahead to climb up to the peak of the small hill.

“This is what you found online?” you ask in a soft voice, utterly awed, as Seokmin once again puts his hand on the small of your back to lead you forward. You hadn’t even realised you had stopped still at the sight until now.

“Yeah. But this isn’t the best part,” he whispers as his hand slides around to hold your waist. Your heart skips a beat, and you press your lips together to not do something stupid like ask him to never let you go.

As soon as you crest the hill, you understand exactly what Seokmin meant. Although the hill doesn’t look big from the angle you approached, it’s much higher on the other side. You can see for miles around; the nearby town, the roads cutting through the hills and fields, the farms dotted around, but most importantly, you can see the field of sunflowers just at the bottom of the hill.

“Sunflowers,” you whisper, unable to talk any louder as you step closer to the other side with one hand to your chest as you look at your namesake.

“I’ve known there’s a sunflower field around here for a while now, I just didn’t think I’d ever have the chance to bring you here to see it,” Seokmin says. You think he’s talking to his daughter— who is a few metres ahead of you taking endless photos of the landscape— but then he stands on your left, and his hand brushes your back briefly. You wish he’d leave it there, but you know you can’t ask that.

“Me? You wanted to bring me here?” you ask in surprise.

“Yeah, you’re Sunflower,” he answers as if it’s all he needs to say, as if it’s a simple as that. Something in his full gaze locked onto you makes you think it isn’t. But you’re not brave enough to voice your suspicion. Not when that look is making the hole in your chest rapidly fill again, and you really don’t want it to be ripped out if he tells you that you’re wrong, or that he isn’t ready yet and may never be. You’d rather just keep it to yourself and enjoy the day.

“Do you think we could get close enough to take photos with them?” you wonder playfully as you turn your face forward again to escape his expression and move on before your chest can empty on your birthday of all days.

“If it will please my princess, I’ll find away,” he promises, mostly playful but you can hear the undercurrent of pure honesty. You don’t dare to look at him right now, too pink to be able to face anyone, let alone the man who makes your heart race. “For now, I’ll set up the picnic!” He takes the blanket from your hand and Seoyeon’s backpack from your shoulder then wanders off behind you to find the perfect spot.

The three of you spend hours on the hill.

Seoyeon spends most of the time carefully getting the view down onto the multiple tiny canvases she always keeps stocked up in her travel art kit. She even convinces you and Seokmin to have a go too. Neither of you are anywhere near as good at painting as Seoyeon, but you both paint a close up of a sunflower without realising, then laugh when you realise what happened once you reveal your finished masterpieces.

But mostly, you and Seokmin remain on the blanket while Seoyeon paints closer to the edge of the hill to have a better view. The two of you never face an awkwardly silent moment, even when a topic naturally ends and another doesn’t immediately pick up. It’s just…easy, to sit quietly at Seokmin’s side and enjoy the day with him. You even manage to convince him to sing for you and lay on your side as he lays on his back, face to the sky as he sings, but the romantic words settle behind your ribs so warmly.

As much as you would love to stay on that hill in a content, cosy little bubble with no thoughts of the world outside the three of you, both you and Seokmin have work in the morning, so reluctantly, the three of you pack up when the sun sets, and head back.

On the drive back home, Seokmin stops at a drive-through, realising that the picnic really isn’t a good substitute for dinner, and the three of you eat your meals on the road. You make a point of feeding Seokmin, insisting that he can’t take his hands off of the wheel— despite the fact he mostly drives with only one hand on the wheel anyway—, mostly just because he blushes so pretty and whines when Seoyeon laughs at him for it.

It's not particularly late when Seokmin pulls up infront of your building, but Seoyeon is asleep in the back, curled against the door and hugging her backpack in place of the childhood teddy bear you know she still sleeps with— something she had only admitted to after you told her you sleep with a few plushies on your bed and tend to hug one to sleep.

“Thanks for letting me tag along today, Sunflower, I really had a great day,” Seokmin says quietly, once you both realise that his daughter is sleeping away and neither of you want to risk waking her up yet.

“I don’t think it can be classed as tagging along when you drove, found the most beautiful picnic location, supplied said picnic, and paid for dinner.”

Seokmin shrugs, almost dismissively. “I’d do all that for you two any time. I’m just grateful you let me join your time together.”

“We love having you with us, Seokmin.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you assure confidently, making his lips curl up into a content smile.

“I’m glad. I really like being with you both too.” You smile at him and reach over to squeeze his hand on his thigh. You smile a little brighter, and so does he, when he turns his hand over to gently squeeze in response.

“I’ll treasure today’s memories for a long time,” you say honestly. “This was the best birthday I’ve had in years, thank you.” You try to turn and get out of the car, but Seokmin makes an alarmed sound, causing you to look at him with your own alarmed expression. “Are you okay?”

“It’s your birthday today?” he hisses in shock. You just nod. “Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve done something special!”

You look at him for a moment before smiling and leaning over to gently hold his worried face in your hands. You don’t miss the way he immediately melts against your palms, and his eyes turn big and round on you. “Today was so special to me. You don’t understand how happy I am, how happy you’ve made me with today. I don’t need or want any more than that. I expected nothing, and you still blew that out of the water.”

“I…okay,” he concedes, trusting the honesty on your features, so you nod in approval and let your hands slide away from his face to land gently on your lap. “I’m glad I could make your birthday special for you. You deserve it.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And happy birthday, by the way.” You giggle and thank him again before getting out of the car. You say goodbye and then he ushers you to your apartment, insisting he won’t leave until he’s seen your front door close behind you.

True to his word, Seokmin only starts the car back up when you open your front door, and it’s only once you’ve closed it behind you and peer out of the window beside it that you see his car driving away.

Just as you decide to call it a night and turn off the TV to head to bed, there’s a timid sounding knock on your door. It’s close to midnight now, and you’re really not expecting guests— especially when your friends and family never turn up out of the blue so late— so you’re confused and a little cautious as you inch towards the door. When you’re only steps away, there’s another knock, slightly louder as if they realised the first was maybe too quiet to be heard.

As soon as you recognise the figure on the landing when you peer through the spyhole, your confusion grows exponentially but worry blooms bright as the worst comes to mind as to why he would be knocking your door so late without prior warning.

As quickly as you can, you disengage the alarm, remove the latch, and unlock the door to open it and meet a fidgeting, pyjama clad Seokmin face to face. “Is Seoyeon okay?” you immediately ask, only to realise he’s wearing a shy, sheepish smile and is holding a cupcake in his hands with an unlit birthday candle sticking out of the top. “Oh…”

“Sorry, I know it’s late and I probably disturbed your sleep–”

“You didn’t,” you assure, not liking the guilt on his features. He relaxes, trusting that you’re being honest and smiles more naturally as he steps closer.

“I couldn’t sleep thinking about how it’s your birthday and you didn’t get to blow out a candle. Unless you did it with someone else…I should’ve considered that. You have family, and friends, and–”

“Seokmin,” you interrupt him for the second time, stepping closer to put one hand over his and making him look at you with such an endearingly cute expression that you can’t help but smile at him. “I haven’t seen anyone but you and Seoyeon today.”

“Ah, good. Well, not good that you haven’t seen anyone else, but good that I’m not making you blow out a second set of candles.” You just giggle and watch as he produces a lighter from his pocket and struggles with it for a few moments, long enough that he gets a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I just bought it, and I haven’t touched a lighter in years. We use matches at home, and I didn’t think to bring them.” Finally, the flame appears steady, and he makes a victorious sound before carefully setting the little white candle aflame, wick burning bright and strong without a breeze to tease it. “Make a wish,” he encourages softly, holding the cupcake closer to you.

Obligingly, you shut your eyes and clasp your hands together as you wish for a long, happy life with many birthdays like today with Seokmin and Seoyeon by your side.

When you open your eyes, you immediately blow out the candle then look up at Seokmin, finding him looking at you with what you can’t deny as utter adoration on his gently smiling features.

“Happy birthday, Sunflower.”

“Thank you,” you respond quietly.

Your breath catches when he steps even closer to you, only to reach past you and put the cupcake on the little table directly inside of the apartment under the window. It confuses you why he didn’t just give it to you, but then he wraps his arms around your waist in a hug so perfect you can only melt against his strong chest and clutch onto him in hopes he won’t let go too soon.

To your relief, Seokmin waits for you to lift your head off his shoulder before he loosens his hold. Though he doesn’t let you go; he lifts one hand to gently brush your hair out of your face then cup your jaw, thumb brushing over your warm cheek.

He leans in, holding your jaw a little firmer, and then tilts his head aside to kiss your cheek. Still, your heart races and skips over its own beats.

“I should go, we both have work in the morning,” he says as he pulls back, his cheeks flushed to match yours. He looks shy and flicks his eyes away from you quicker than he usually does. It’s utterly precious.

Not wanting to risk ruining anything, you obligingly release your hold on him and let him step back. “Thank you for coming all this way so that I get a birthday wish, Seokmin.”

“I hope your wish comes true.”

You can’t help but wonder if he’d say the same if he knew what you wished for. As you think about the way it seemed like he changed his aim at the last minute to kiss your cheek instead of your lips, you think he probably would.

Ever since your birthday, you’re pretty sure things between you and Seokmin have changed. Not in any wildly obvious ways, but in the ways you notice. The way he hovers around you more. The way he seems to find excuses to sit or stand near you. The way he lets his eyes linger when you catch him already looking at you, and he doesn’t shy away immediately, yet smiles to himself when he inevitably does.

Something has changed, and something is changing further, but you still keep back. You’re too scared you’ll scare him off if you let your interest and feelings show now. You’re not sure he’s actually ready for anything, because at this point you really can’t deny that he does like you. You wish he’d tell you that and let you know where he stands, so that you’re not constantly in a state of anxious anticipation for the moment he makes some kind of move. But you won’t push him.

You wait, and the hope in your chest swells as big as it’s ever been.

A week before the summer holidays end, Seokmin has to go away for a work trip. He’s only going to a city a few hours away, but he’s got a lot of work to do for a couple of different clients, so he’ll be away for a few days.

Initially, he planned to take Seoyeon with him, unwilling to leave her home alone for three days. Not because he doesn’t trust her— you think he trusts her more than anyone else, and more than you’ve ever seen a parent trust their child— but because he just can’t handle the thought of something potentially happening to his baby while he’s too far away to do anything about it or even know that something’s happened.

Yet when you offer to stay with Seoyeon for the few days, even saying you’ll get someone to cover as many as your hours at the arcade as possible, Seokmin doesn’t even get the chance to respond before Seoyeon pops up from behind the couch— you hadn’t even known she was done in the kitchen— and enthusiastically agrees. She even pulls out the puppy eyes and cutely pleads her dad to allow her to stay at home with you. Seokmin can’t say no to Seoyeon on the average day, let alone when she’s purposely acting cute; so just like that, you and Seoyeon start to plan your sleepover.

Almost as soon as Seokmin leaves— not long after the three of you have had dinner so that he can get to his hotel tonight and relax before his first meeting in the morning— you and Seoyeon break into almost manically excited giggles and rush to gather all the supplies you need.

Even though Seokmin assured you that you can take his bed for the days as they don’t have a guest room, you don’t spend a single moment in his room— even if a huge part of you would love to envelop yourself in his scent embedded into his bed.

While planning the sleepover, Seoyeon had requested the two of you sleep in the living room together, like a real sleepover— something she’s never had before. Of course, you didn’t even try to argue, didn’t want to, but you had one condition; the two of you make a fort to sleep in.

It takes two hours at least to get the fort exactly how the two of you want, and it’s a grand, cosy thing too. You’ve left the front mostly open, so that you can see the large TV from the masses of pillows and blankets cushioning the floor, and also so that you can easily get in and out without risking pulling the whole thing down on top of you.

Honestly, you think the fort is a work of art and you’re already planning to try and convince Seokmin to make it a permanent feature in the living room. Or at least a special, limited-edition feature for as long as he can deal with having no sofa to sit on. You’re pretty that sure between you and Seoyeon, you can wheedle at least a week and a half out of him, perhaps two if you bribe him with dinner, which, you are more than willing to do. Honestly, you’d be happy to make him dinner or take him out to dinner any given day without any ulterior motive, but he doesn’t know that, nor does he need to know that when it’ll work greatly to your benefit in this particular circumstance.

On the first morning of your sleepover, you and Seoyeon clamber out of the fort at a little after 10am and then immediately rush off to get ready for the day trip the two of you had planned the night before.

Not even half an hour after waking, the pair of you are in your car— eating breakfast on the go— and headed off for a day focused entirely on Seoyeon’s passion in life, art. You start by touring the huge art museum a few towns away, where you spend the majority of the day.

Every time Seoyeon stops at a piece that really catches her eye, you can’t help but take photos on your phone; partly to send a few to her dad, but mostly because you utterly adore the shine to her big eyes and awed smiles as she takes in every inch of the masterpiece. Of course, you don’t argue when she wants to stop and try to recreate the artwork in her sketchbook that she’s clutched close to her chest the entire tour, even as she takes photos on her camera for future reference too.

There’s a decent sized café at the museum, so you stop for a late lunch there, enjoying the dishes and drinks named after pieces homed in the museum. When Seoyeon comments on how much her dad would like the hand decorated sugar cookies, you buy a box to take home for him, while she just giggles amusedly at your concentration in picking out the perfect cookies for the man.

After the museum, there’s a little time to kill before the evening night art class you signed up for. It’s situated on the roof of the tallest building in the city, where you’re all given free access to various paints, pastels, and pencils to recreate the skyline in your own styles. You’re not the best at art, but you try your hardest and also try not to encourage the flirting of one of the instructors as he helps you get your vision onto paper.

Of course, Seoyeon does an incredible job with her painting, and you’re tempted to ask her for her finished piece, but you think Seokmin would adore having it hanging in the entrance hall, where there’s a proud shrine to his daughter’s work for all visitors of the Lee house to gaze upon reverently.

By the time you get back to the Lee house, you both have just enough energy to throw together a quick dinner, before curling up in the fort and falling asleep excited for another day out together tomorrow.

On the second day, the pair of you wake up with unimpressed pouts as your alarm rings, neither of you quite cognisant enough to realise why you set an alarm for 6:30am when you don’t even have work for another couple of days. Though once you realise, you both scramble excitedly off to get ready for today’s trip.

After four hours, including stops to stretch your legs and refuel— both the car and yourselves—, you arrive at the beach and can’t help but marvel at the beauty of the hidden cove, barely populated despite the time of day and summer season. All day, the two of you are in awe of how it never gets busy; it remains a calm little pocket of beauty outside the bustle of tourist trap beaches.

While at the beach, you send a photo— or multiple— to Seokmin, who video calls an hour later, both to pout about the two of you going to the beach without him, and to check in and get a full run down of your time together while he has some time to kill before his next meeting. You let Seoyeon do most of the talking and simply sit back with a fond little smile on your face as you watch the pair match one another’s enthusiasm with identical, bright smiles, and sparkling eyes.

You think you could spend the rest of your life watching the father-daughter duo interact and be truly happy. You think if you were blessed with that life, you’d never need nor want for more.

After two days of driving for hours at a time, and walking for hours, and lounging under the sun and playing in the sea for hours, you and Seoyeon need a lazy day to recharge.

On the third— and final— day of your sleepover, the two of you wake a little after 9am, and remain in the fort dozing and watching TV for another hour before you heave yourself up to make you both breakfast.

Seoyeon is almost asleep again when you return, but she becomes more alert at the scent of food and sleepily sits up to let you place her tray on her lap. “Can we go get snacks?” she asks as the two of you sit side by side while you eat and watch the show she’s put on. You just hum in agreement, then smile to yourself when you catch her wiggle happily in your periphery.

“No,” you refuse as soon as you see the packet of giant marshmallows Seoyeon has found somewhere in the store and trotted over to the shopping trolley with. She pouts at you cutely. “You and your dad have zero self-control where marshmallows are concerned, I am banning you both from them for the foreseeable future. At least until I forget the sight of you puking up pastel two weeks ago.”

“I’ll only eat one at a time!” she promises.

“That doesn’t mean one packet,” you clarify, making her giggle and you just know she would’ve used that non-specification as a loophole. “I’m going to buy a lock box to keep them in,” you warn, taking the packet from her hands to toss into the trolley, making her cheer happily. “A big lock box; that’s a huge bag, Bud.”

“I’ll share.”

“With me or do you mean one in each hand?” you joke, making her shove you a little at the tease, though she’s grinning, so you know she doesn’t mind.

“Can we have pizza for dinner?” she requests as you enter a new aisle and immediately grab a large bag of rice from the shelf, knowing that the Lee’s pot is getting low and Seokmin somehow always forgets to buy more rice. You’re pretty sure you’ve bought the last few bags of rice, not that you mind at all, nor do you accept Seokmin’s offers to pay you back. He feeds you multiple times a week, the least you can do is keep them topped up on rice.

“You really are your father’s child,” you muse and she nods. “I’m not making it. We’ll order in.”

“Hell yeah,” she enthuses, making you snort a laugh. “You should stay one more night, so you can be there in the morning for dad’s pancakes. He promised to make them the first morning he’s back.”

“I have work the day after your dad’s back, I need to get up too early for you two to be awake.”

“We’ll get up for breakfast with you.”

“Bud, I’d have to leave at 7 at the latest, I have stuff to do before the arcade even opens.”

“Can’t someone else do it?”

“No,” you laugh and put your arm around her shoulders to pull her against your side while she pouts. “We’ll have pancakes at some point. They don’t just have to be a breakfast food, you know?”

“Dad’s weird about stuff like that. He said it’s called breakfast for a reason. You’ll have to stay over another day when you both don’t have to be up early, so we can have breakfast together,” she decides.

It sounds nice; spending the night and having breakfast with the pair, something like a dream come true, honestly. You don’t have it in you to argue with the girl when you want that as much as she seems to, so you just hum and let go of her to motion to a jar on the shelf for her to grab while you get something from another self. Thankfully, the topic is forgotten after that, and you can push it to the back of your mind and focus on shopping.

Something makes you jerk awake. You’re really confused for a moment until you hear a noise in the entrance hall. Suddenly, you’re wide awake and creep out of the fort, grabbing your phone as you go and unlocking it ready to call the police if need be.

Though as soon as you carefully peer into the entrance hall, you relax and lock your phone. “You’re early,” you comment, stepping into the hall as Seokmin jumps in surprise, having been too focused on trying to get his shoes off where he’s perched on the stool and fighting with the too tightly tied laces of his dress shoes. He’s still in one of his work outfits— shirt unbuttoned a little too far and sleeves roughly rolled up his forearms to fight the summer heat, even if it’s late now so a lot cooler than it was earlier.

“Ah, yeah, I just…really wanted to come home,” he admits a little bashfully, straightening up and smiling at you. “Did I wake you?”

“Mm, but it’s okay, I’m glad you’re back. Going to join us in the fort?” you offer, motioning to the lounge with a tired, yet still cheeky little grin that makes him chuckle.

“If there’s room.” You nod enthusiastically, earning another little chuckle. “Alright. I’ll take my stuff upstairs and shower, then I’ll be right there…as soon as I get these off.”

“Want some help?” you offer with a soft laugh, already moving over to kneel in front of him and reach for his shoes before he can answer.

It goes to show how sleepy you are that you don’t even conjure images of what else you can do on your knees infront of the man, his thick thighs spread right in front of your face when you’re upright. But you’re not upright, you’re bending down low to get a good look at his laces and untangle the tight knot that he’s made worse with his tugging.

Once you’ve got both shoes undone, you remove them from his feet and get up to put them in their usual place on the shoe rack, entirely unaware that Seokmin has done nothing but stare a little dumbly at you as you work. At least until you turn and look at him, finding his big eyes locked on you, mouth dropped open.

You giggle amusedly and then walk over to brush your fingers over the dark marks under his eyes, giving away that he’s tired, no doubt from being away from home and the long drive back so late at night. “Come on, sleepy pants, you need to go to bed, and so do I.” You pick up his hands from his lap and tug until he obediently gets to his feet, still staring down at you with that same expression. “Do I need to take you upstairs myself, Seokmin?” you muse.

Finally, Seokmin snaps out of it and shakes the daze from his head, lips curling into a smile again. “No, sorry. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay,” you agree and let him go a little reluctantly— you could swear his fingers curl against yours until they can’t anymore, as reluctant as you are to let go— before returning to your space in the fort, hearing Seokmin clamber up the stairs with his luggage a few moments later.

By the time Seokmin joins you— truly not even that long later— you’re practically asleep again, curled on your side facing Seoyeon but stubbornly trying to remain awake until he’s in his rightful space. As he ducks into the fort on his daughter’s other side, you smile sleepily at him, and he smiles back.

You watch as he settles under the blanket beside his daughter. He takes the time to make sure she’s tucked in comfortably and presses a love filled kiss against her head before looking at you as he remains propped up on his left hand.

“Tell me about your trip in the morning,” you suggest, words starting to slur as you lose the fight with your eyelids and they flutter shut, sleep already close to dragging you under. “You can make us pancakes.” You barely hear Seokmin’s answering chuckle and agreement, you can barely feel the gently brush of fingers tucking your hair out of your face. “We missed you.”

You can’t be sure, you’re already falling asleep, but you think you feel something against your forehead, something that feels awfully like a kiss, and then you’re asleep and you can’t think about it anymore.

Before you know it, the summer holidays are over, Seoyeon goes back to school, and Rainy Days Arcade feels almost empty during the weekdays again.

Despite being practically raised in this very arcade, despite how many years you’ve worked here and witnessed this happened every September, it still makes your heart ache a little to no longer spend the workday seeing smiling faces everywhere you turn.

Though, of course, you can always rely on Skater to cheer you up.

“Hey, look, I got a tattoo of you,” Skater declares one afternoon; after watching you mope around the arcade since the morning, only picking up when you come across a customer as you wait for the afterschool rush.

“What?” you ask, utterly bewildered and a little concerned. You don’t truly believe the man would actually get a tattoo of you— even with his major crush and borderline harmless obsession with you— but you also know that he and Noodle went out with Tiger and some others last night and drank far too much.

Noodle is still sprawled across some seats in the snack bar, snoring away and clutching an empty noodle pot in an attempt to get over his hangover. Skater hadn’t been in a much better condition when he turned up for work; though he thankfully gets over his hangovers pretty quickly with some food in him and a powernap curled up on the floor under a table in the snack bar— you stopped trying to get him to sleep there years ago—, so he’s fine now. But the condition of him when he turned up makes you think he was definitely in a position last night to make a really fucking dumb decision. And Tiger, as you have learned, is full of dumb ideas.

Tentatively, you lean over the prize desk to peer at where Skater has the rip in his jeans pulled, revealing the little cartoon sunflower on his thigh. Immediately, you reach out and slap his arm, making him crack up laughing. It’s just a temporary tattoo, one that can be claimed from the prize desk in exchange for a couple of tickets.

“Asshole, I was worried for a moment there!” you admit and hit him again for good measure.

“Why are we beating him up?” Curly asks as she steps up on your right, holding her youngest child against her chest in a sling, making both you and Skater immediately coo at the 8-month-old. Neither of you answer her question, too occupied in making the baby gurgle and laugh, but Curly doesn’t mind.

“What brings you by?” you wonder almost ten minutes later, when you straighten up and look at the adult attached to the adorable little baby.

“Gremlin number two broke gremlin number three’s plushie you gave her last time she was here,” she explains, meaning that her second oldest child broke the plushie of her third oldest— or second youngest—; a plushie you gave the little girl a few weeks back, when she had been so in awe of the weird looking frog-creature.

“Ah,” you nod in understanding and move behind the desk to unlock the back display and pull down another of the weird looking plushies to hand over. “Tell gremlin two that he won’t be allowed to play here if he isn’t nice to the other gremlins.”

“Will do,” Curly agrees with a laugh. “We’ll probably be by this weekend; their cousins are coming to visit, and you know the husband can’t handle that many kids in the house at once.”

“Rate he knocks you up, you’d think he’s trying to have that many kids,” Skater jokes.

“Oh, we’re done now,” Curly declares, patting the baby against her to show he’s the last one. “Got two of each, better not upset those odds.”

“May the odds be ever in your favour,” Skater says, and you both ignore him, far too used to the random quotes after working with him for four years now.

“Speaking of kids, how is your plan to become Bud’s stepmother going?”

“I’m not trying to be her stepmother,” you correct, though sigh forlornly and flop against the desk. “But I wouldn’t mind. I love her, she’s the best.”

“She really loves you too, it’s obvious. She looks up to you a lot,” Curly says, petting your head and laughing softly when you lean into it like an animal when she stops too fast for your liking. “You’re good for her. He must see that.”

“He does, I think,” you answer, tilting your head to pout at the woman you consider an aunt. She coos at you and brushes the loose strands of hair back from your sulking features. “But he hasn’t given any indication that he’s ready to bring me into their lives like that. I’m like 76.2% sure that he does like me. I mean, I’m pretty sure he’s almost kissed me at least twice now!”

“Damn, lucky guy,” Skater mutters. “What I’d give to almost kiss you.”

“You literally asked for a kiss for your birthday,” you deadpan at him.

“In my defence, I was very drunk, and I do not remember that night at all. I still don’t believe you did it,” he comments honestly. “I think you and Noodle are just fucking with me.”

You stare at him for a moment then abruptly straighten, grab his face, and plant a kiss on his parted in surprise lips. When you pull back after barely a second, his eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them, and his cheeks already pink and only growing brighter.

“I–” he chokes out, then rushes off, tripping over his own feet and catching himself on a games machine, causing the alarm to start blaring. He yelps and glances at you, so red now that you’re genuinely a little concerned, before he motions to the machine limply then bolts to the snack bar, no doubt to freak out to his best friend.

“I should deal with that,” you mutter, then sigh and wander over to the machine to turn the alarm off.

“I’ve gotta go, the gremlins will be coming out of school soon,” Curly announces when you return to the prize desk, deciding that someone is going to have to cover Skater until he’s functional again, and you don’t exactly have anything better to do right now, so you may as well do it.

“Ah, right,” you respond, glancing at the clock on the wall behind you, then back at her. “Give them all hugs from their auntie Sunflower.”

“Will do. If you torment Skate again, record it; everyone will be sad they missed it.”

“Not like it’s not on CCTV,” you muse, motioning vaguely to one of the many security cameras around the arcade; a few are directed at the prize desk, and you know at least one has a perfect view of Skater’s freak out.

“Send it in the work chat,” Curly suggests as she backs up, grinning at you. You just laugh and nod in agreement before watching her walk off.

Almost half an hour later, Skater returns half hiding behind Noodle, who is wearing a shit-eating grin. “He wants to request the rest of the day off because he can’t even look at you right now,” Noodle announces once he’s on the opposite side of the desk to you, and Skater is staring wide eyed at his best friend’s left shoulder from barely inches behind it.

“I didn’t think he’d freak out this much,” you muse. “He kept asking for more last time.”

“He was drunk,” Noodle retorts. “Anyway, can we go? It’s about to get busy with teenagers soon and my head still hurts.” He pouts at you, cutely pleading with his eyes.

“You can do what you want, Nood. But he needs to get someone to cover his shift if he’s leaving,” you remind with a shrug. “I can’t do it; I’ve got to take Bud home tonight. Seokmin’s making lasagne and I am not missing it.”

“Go,” Noodle encourages his best friend as he looks over his shoulder at him, even nudging the taller male when Skater remains in place. “Go find someone to cover the desk. Pretty sure I saw Violet earlier, and by saw, he sat watching me sleep for like twenty minutes.”

“In his defence, you sleep talk and it’s hilarious,” you muse as Skater scuttles off in search of the older man— or someone else to cover his shift.

“I’m hilarious when I’m awake too,” Noodle declares. You suck your teeth and he gawps, reaching over to flick you in offense, making you snigger. Then he leans onto the desk to talk to you with wide eyes and a grin. “You can get the kiss cam footage from the CCTV, right?”

“Curly’s already told me to send it in the group chat,” you answer, making him let out a weird little laugh before he leans back to his side of the counter.

Not long later, Skater returns, not with Violet but your own dad, making your eyebrows lift in surprise, before you grin and bounce around the desk to greet him with a hug.

“I didn’t know you’re coming by today,” you comment.

“Your mum’s working on the beds out front,” he explains, motioning to the front of the arcade, making you gasp then rush off to find your mother, where she’s already kneeling on her foam mat, gardening tools at her side, and gloves on her hands to weed the flower beds decorating the front of the arcade.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she coos when you sit at her side to hug her. She leans into the embrace but doesn’t lift her hands from the pot, not wanting to get soil on you.

“No job today?” you ask and she shakes her head before going on to tell you about the job she and your dad were supposed to start today for their landscaping business, but the client cancelled at the last minute, despite the fact that the expensive custom pebble mix had been ordered. 

The two of you stay out there talking as she works on the flowerbeds and hanging planters long enough that the arcade is filling with students looking to relax and hang out after school.

When Seoyeon arrives, she looks a little bewildered, not recognising your mother, but you quickly introduce the pair and Seoyeon relaxes, though gets a little shy. Still, your mum obviously adores her already and as she already knows who Bud is after hearing about her from you and the other staff over the past months, she quickly tells you to bring her and her dad over on the weekend for a barbeque while the weather is still good enough for it.

Knowing how shy Seoyeon can get— and is clearly feeling right now— you take her into the arcade and leave your mum gardening in peace.

“You don’t have to come,” you assure the teen as the two of you head to the snack bar after you’ve peered at the prize desk and spotted your dad contently sitting on the stool behind it and watching over the place.

“You’d really be okay with it?” Seoyeon asks as the two of you sit down at your usual table and she pulls some homework from her bag for you to look at and decide if it’s possible to start it here, or if it’s something you’ll have to help her with her home where you can both concentrate better. “Me and dad with your family?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” you respond, looking at her a little puzzled. “They invite the staff over a few times a year for events, and sometimes Skater tags along when I visit them.”

“I’m not staff though; I’m just a kid.”

“Hey,” you argue, turning to face her better. “You’re not just a kid. You’re someone very important to me, okay? I care about you a hell of a lot, Seoyeon; enough that, yes, I’ve talked about you to my parents so much that they even ask about you now. Mum’s wanted to meet you for a while, it’s just not been viable with her working, and I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I still don’t. You can say no; nobody will be mad if you’re not comfortable with going to their place and spending time with us all.”

“Oh…You’re really okay with us coming? Meeting your parents?”

“Yeah. Doc and MD will likely be there, so you’ll already know them. Plus, Doc’s wife. And my brother maybe, if he comes home from school this weekend,” you inform with a shrug. “He always brings lots of sweets and cakes to share; both because he’s obsessed with sugar, and because he claims he’s securing future patients.” Seoyeon gives you a questioning look. “He’s studying to be a dentist.”

“Oh.” She giggles amusedly. “Should we bring anything?”

“You want to come?” Seoyeon nods in confirmation and you grin before hugging her excitedly. She giggles some more and happily hugs you back. “We’ll talk to your dad about it later. Hopefully, he’ll agree.”

To both of your genuine surprise, when you and Seoyeon bring up the barbeque when the three of you are lounging on the sofa watching a movie after dinner, Seokmin doesn’t agree.

“What? No?” Seoyeon repeats, straightening up from her usual place in between you and her dad to look at him in betrayed shock. “Why no?”

Seokmin shuffles to sit up straighter and turns a little to face the pair of you, though he’s looking directly at Seoyeon. “Snowdrop, they’re having a family barbeque and–”

“Her mum invited us!” Seoyeon interrupts. “Sunflower didn’t, her mum did! We’re not intruding on family time.”

Seokmin sighs heavily, and for the first time, he looks a little frustrated towards his daughter. Part of you feels like you shouldn’t be here, but part of you knows it’s related to you and your family, so you’re perfectly within your rights to remain. “Let’s discuss this later, okay?” he says pointedly, and despite what you felt seconds ago, now you feel like you’re unwelcome here. It’s not something you’ve ever felt in the house, or around the pair.

“I get the hint,” you mutter and get up. “See you tomorrow, Bud,” you say, squeezing her arm a little before walking to the entrance hall to get your shoes on.

“No!” Seoyeon argues while getting up, shoving her dad’s hand from her hand to follow you. “Don’t go. You never leave before I’m in bed.”

“Your dad obviously wants to have a private conversation with you, so it’s time for me to leave,” you explain as you sit on the stool to pull your shoes on.

“We don’t need a private conversation about this! It’s about family– you–your family…I mean.” You look up at her and find her suddenly withdrawn a little. It makes you think that her little trip up with her words means something.

“Bud…” you give up with your shoes, removing them again so that you can walk over and gently take a hold of her face to make her look at you. She looks like she could cry any second and it breaks your heart. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” you ask softly.

“I…I hate it when you leave,” she admits with a sniffle. “I like it when you’re here, with us, where–where you belong. You’re…I want you to be family with us and not in the way people call friends. I mean real family.”

You don’t know what to say, you genuinely hadn’t ever thought she’d want that. Maybe in the future if Seokmin came around and you two got together, but you’re just friends.

“I think we should talk,” Seokmin’s voice makes you look over to where he’s standing by the entrance of the living room, arms crossed over his chest and an expression on his face that you can’t read as he watches his daughter try not to cry.

Although you don’t want to leave, you know it’s not your place to argue; it’s Seokmin’s house, his daughter who is upset, not yours. So, you nod and only kiss Seoyeon’s head before letting your hands drop away so that you can move to grab your shoes, willing to leave with them in your hands at this point.

But before you can get far, Seokmin speaks back up. “I meant us, Sunflower,” he says, making you look at him in surprise. “Can you give us a minute, Snowdrop?” he requests as he stops beside his daughter. As soon as he puts a gentle hand on her back, she jerks away and storms off to the living room. Seokmin waits for the movie to start and the volume to get turned up to give you privacy to talk before he steps closer to you. “Do you remember the talk we had? About Seoyeon’s mother and dating?”

You blink at him a few times before nodding while lowering your shoes back to the floor. “You want to be sure whoever you date will stick around.”

“And be ready to be our family one day, when ready,” he adds and you nod. “And you said that you hope I find that.”

“I do. You deserve it, you both do.”

“Thank you.” He gives you a little smile that doesn’t meet the ache in his eyes. “I told Seoyeon about that talk because I tell her everything and it felt important to tell her.”

“I understand,” you respond honestly, not at all upset at him for talking to Seoyeon about it; it’s probably something she deserves to know anyway.

“Why are you always so understanding?” he suddenly asks, looking even more pained, utterly bewildering you. “I don’t know how to deal with you.”

“What?” you deadpan.

“Not like that!” He groans frustratedly at himself and buries his face in his hands. You watch his shoulders move as he takes a few deep breaths before he drops his hands and looks at you. “I want to deal with you. I–I want you around too, it’s not just Seoyeon that wants you here, Sunflower.”

“Then ask me to be,” you say simply, moving a little closer while he stares at you in disbelief.

“But…you said you hope I find that.”

“Yes, I do hope that.”

“I…I thought you meant with someone else.”

“No. I want it to be with me, but if you want someone else–”

“No. Never,” he argues firmly and quickly moves closer to take your face into his hands, staring down at you so seriously, so heated that your heart races. “I was trying to tell you that day what I want from you, what I’d expect if you agree. I thought your response meant you don’t want that, and then you…backed off.”

“I thought you were telling me you weren’t ready,” you admit. “So, I was giving you space to decide in your own time. I’d already done all I could to prove that you can trust me with your family, so it was just down to you to be ready.”

“Oh…” he relaxes as a smile lifts his lips. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

You can’t help but laugh and his smile grows wider. “Yeah, you are a bit.”

“Hey!” he complains, though there’s no heat to it, and instead of pulling away in offense, he leans closer in adoration. “I’d really like to stop being stupid and let you know how I feel about you.”

“Mm, and how do you plan on doing that?” you muse, lifting your hands to hold onto his waist loosely, then a little tighter when you remember that he’s likely ripped under his clothes based on the size of his thighs and arms.

“I’ll write you a poem,” he declares seriously, then giggles when you give him an unimpressed look. “Serenade you from outside of your window with a boombox?”

“Okay, I would actually love that. I love your voice,” you decide, making him blush prettily and smile shyly under the compliment. “My neighbours might not appreciate it though, so how about you just serenade me face to face at a later point?”

“A later point?” he teases. “Not now?”

“No, you should do what I’m pretty sure you’ve almost done a few times before today.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Kiss me.”

“You noticed?”

“I don’t think you realise how much attention I pay to you, Seokmin. I’ve been kind of obsessed with your handsome face since I first saw it.” The shy little whine he lets out makes you giggle. “You’re so ridiculously cute for a 42-year-old man, you know?”

“Please don’t remind me how much older than I am,” he complains, adjusting his hold on your face to hold you a little more securely.

“You’re a DILF.”

He gives you an unimpressed look, though it slips away almost instantly and he chuckles, looking pleased by your words. “Okay, I’ll accept that,” he smirks smugly, then leans in to brush his nose against yours. “I can really kiss you?”

“Whenever the fuck you like, seriously,” you enthuse.

Seokmin chuckles then finally, finally, finally presses his lips to yours. His lips are still a little sticky from the marshmallows that he and Seoyeon puppy-dog-eyed out of you immediately after dinner, and there’s still gel in his hair from work when you lift your hands to run through it, but you think it’s a perfect kiss all the same. And quickly turns heated in an also very perfect way, in your so humble opinion.

The two of you pull apart minute later when you hear a little yelp from the living room and turn to find Seoyeon scrambling away from the doorway, clearly having decided to spy on the two of you yet found you making out in the entrance hall.

“She definitely saw,” you muse, looking back at Seokmin as you wrap your arms around his neck loosely.

“I’m very certain that’s the first time she’s seen me kiss someone,” he comments, looking like he’s not sure if he should run away and hide from the awkward embarrassment of his daughter seeing him grabbing your ass with his tongue teasing yours. Though he turns his slightly panicked look on you and it melts away as his hands— unfortunately— move away from your ass and to a safe spot on your waist. “Are you really okay with this? That being with me means becoming her mum one day? Not for a while, it’s too soon for that, even if I love seeing you two together and how good you are with her. But in the future.”

“You think I’d have just let you grab my ass if I wasn’t committed to this? Both of you?”

“To be honest, I think you wanted me to grab your ass from the moment we met,” he comments, partly cheeky, partly cocky.

You automatically open your mouth to argue, only to realise you can’t and instead giggle. “Okay, that’s true. But things have changed. I just wanted to take you for a ride or twelve then, now I want to ride you for the rest of my life.”

“Baby,” he murmurs, cheeks a little pink, but his eyes a little darker. “You can’t just say that.”

“Why not? Don’t you want me to?”

“Oh, that’s not it at all,” he insists, eyes widening a little. “The day you taught me to play that game and pressed your ass against me, I couldn’t think of anything else that night.”

“I probably would’ve let you flip my skirt and bend me over that game, by the way,” you announce off-handedly, as if it it’s such a normal thing to say to your brand new, fresh out of the box DILF-boyfriend. God, you can’t want to play with him.

“You’re going to kill me,” he croaks out, fingers digging into your flesh as he tries to not let that mental image take over his mind. He’ll be unable to function if so.

“And you’re going to enjoy every second of it,” you coo and tap his nose, making his somewhat constipated expression break as he smiles.

“Yeah, I will.” He kisses you once more— innocently this time— then lets you go and steps back. “Even though I’m very sure she already knows, let’s go tell Seoyeon,” He suggests, while offering his hand to you. You nod in agreement and take the offer, immediately lacing your fingers together and walking close enough to him that you can nervously hug his arm to your chest.

Although Seoyeon had already basically said she wants you to be with her dad and be her pseudo-mother, you’re pretty sure she never wanted to see you and her dad lip locked, especially not like you were, so you’re nervous she’ll have changed her mind upon realising what the two of you being in a relationship really means.

Though as soon as she looks at the two of you, her slightly disturbed expression leaves and she smiles brightly. You let go of Seokmin to dart over and tackle Seoyeon down in a hug, making her laugh as she hugs you back just as enthusiastically.

“Does this mean you’re moving in?” she questions as you sit up and allow her to sit too, before you pull her against your side, arms around her shoulders and head resting on hers, and she curls right into your arms.

“No, it’s too soon for that,” you answer as Seokmin sits behind Seoyeon and pulls you both into his own arms, dropping a kiss on both of your heads that makes you and Seoyeon smile at the affection. “But I imagine there will be more sleepovers.”

“Not always like last time,” Seokmin adds quickly. “I love the fort, so we’ll definitely have to rebuild it and do that, but I will want time with Sunflower on my own.”

“Ew, gross, I don’t want to know about that!” Seoyeon exclaims in complaint, making you laugh, which turns into cackles when you see Seokmin’s wide eyed, flustered expression.

“I didn’t mean for that!” he defends. “I–I just meant to cuddle!”

“Tell that to what I saw in the hallway,” Seoyeon mutters and you laugh harder while Seokmin whines.

“So!” you start a few moments later when you’ve stopped laughing. “About this weekend.” The Lee pair look at you in sync, making your smile widen. They’re so cute. “Are you still against going, Seok? Because I’d really like to introduce my boyfriend to my family.”

“Boyfriend,” Seokmin repeats a little dumbly.

“Yes, that is what you are,” you confirm amusedly. “Or do you prefer to be called partner?”

“That makes me think of cowboys,” he admits, making you and Seoyeon giggle. “Or cops,” he adds and oh, now you’re thinking about roleplay.

You wonder if Seokmin would dress up as a cop if you offer to be handcuffed to the bed. Or maybe a cowboy and he can tie you with rope. Or you can be a cowboy— it sounds better for roleplay than cowgirl— and he can be a wild beast you have to tame, with rope. You just really think someone should be tied up or tied down. Either way, you’re willing to buy out the entire bondage section of your preferred supplies website, he’s just got to say green. Green means go to go, after all.

“Sunflower?” Seokmin’s voice bring you out of your thoughts and back to reality with a questioning hum. “You okay?” You just nod, so he drops it and returns to the topic at hand— unfortunately not him dressed in a cop uniform and telling you to get on your knees. “I’d really love to meet your parents as your boyfriend.”

“Really?!” you ask excitedly, face lighting up, which only grows when he nods in confirmation with a smile upon seeing your joy. “You’re the best!” you cover Seoyeon’s eyes and lean over to plant a kiss on Seokmin’s lips, making him chuckle softly.

“Are you going to make a habit of that?” Seoyeon asks as you settle back, turning to face the TV and the two of you copy, even as Seoyeon remains tucked between you both with your right arm around her, and Seokmin’s left on the back of the sofa behind you both.

“Kissing your dad’s pretty face?” you question and she pulls a face while Seokmin smiles shyly pleased at the compliment. “Hell fucking yeah, I am.”

Seoyeon bursts into giggles at your response, while Seokmin sighs, trying to hide his own laugh, then goes on to scold you about swearing like that around the baby. Seoyeon starts to argue with him about being called a baby while you watch the pair with your chest full and warm of the love you have for the duo. A love you just know will last for the rest of your life, and you’re excited as fuck to spend it with them.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle

The air of the campus's coffee-house is perfumed with the rich scent of toasted almonds and burnt coffee stains sticking to all surfaces by the time you pull your attention out of the document you have been working on and back into the space around you.

The half-eaten cream-cheese bagel has gone soggy by your side but the coffee cup still feels warm as you wrap your fingers around it. You bring it close to your lips, not quite drinking yet, but letting the sugary aroma of it settle like steam in between your breaths.

He must have replaced your previous cup that had gone cold with a fresh one without you noticing, for sure.

When you open your eyes and catch a glimpse of him ringing in the last orders of his shift with the same smile he had some four hours ago, you can't help but feel your heart thump in a sweeter melody behind your ribs. As if your gaze has a weight of it's own, Dokyeom feels it lingering on his skin and flicks his eyes up to catch you staring. And when he does, his flashy smile turns into something more honest and benign—the kind that you know is his most gleeful.

You gather your things in your bag and wait for your boyfriend to get free from his shift for a few more minutes, humming along to the songs strumming out of the cafe's music system that you know he must have been in-charge of queuing because it is your favorite playlist filtering into the buzzing space.

By the time he reappears from the back-room in his oversized soft pink hoodie and carrying an array of drinks and desserts boxed in a giant cardboard box, your stomach is grumbling and you crave your bed more than ever. Dokyeom places a lingering kiss over your head, pulling you closer into his chest with his free arm.

"How was your day?" He asks, rubbing your spine and making you sigh.

"Finished all my assignments while my boyfriend force-fed me enough sugar and caffeine to take down a Victorian child…you can say it went pretty good."

"Well I saw you withering away behind the laptop and knew it needed immediate intervention." he claims, frowning seriously.

The two of you begin walking hand in hand towards your dorms, opposite to most couples who were walking out of the dorms to spend the Valentine's evening outside the campus. Ideally, you and your boyfriend would be walking in that direction too. But with Dokyeom picking up many extra shifts at the coffee-house lately and your own grad-school applications demanding every second on your clock, you had unanimously arrived at the decision of just getting your favorites from the coffee house and cuddling in your dorm room all night.

His hand, despite the exhaustion of carrying scalding orders and packing delicate pastries all day, remains soft yet secure as it curls around you. The dorm halls are all nearly empty with the only sounds being those of your keys jamming against the old lock and a distant giggle of some girls getting ready for galentines in a room.

Upon entering, one of your hands fumbles for the switches to light up your room while the other pulls him in for a deep kiss. The bags fumble from his fingers carelessly onto your study table which is already swamped with haphazard notes and open, forgotten books. He angles his head and your lips melt against the heat of his, sliding against each other—tongue and teeth—slick with saliva, lipgloss and pure wet need.

It is only when he pulls you closer, almost bringing you on your tip-toes with his arm looped sure around your waist, that you realize just how cold you've been all day. Despite the coffee. Despite the air-con. Despite the golden sun of early spring. It is not until the press of his skin soaks his warmth into you that the tight coil between your shoulders finally unspools in slow, quiet threads.

You're breathless when you pull apart, skin flushed pink and eyes glossed over.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles watching you as you blink confused. His fingers come up to brush your air-mussed hair off your face, "this probably wasn't the valentine's you imagined."

You physically feel your smile falter when he says that, your chest caving in as something within it shrinks at his genuine, apologetic eyes.

Before you can say something, he continues, "I should have taken you out…"

"We always go out," you interrupt him, hands sliding up against the hem of his hoodie until your palms flatten against his chiseled abdomen, "and after a whole week of grueling assignments and terrible meetings with my advisor, staying in with you is exactly the type of valentine's I needed, Dokyeom."

"Joanne's that bad, huh?" He asks, referring to your academic advisor.

You deflate until you slump against his sturdy shoulder and pout, "she's the worst."

Dokyeom doesn't push at that, you've talked about her enough times for him to know just what about her way of stating what she needs to say rubs you off wrong. He is also aware, just as much as you are, about her importance at this stage of your applications. So instead of offering solutions that'd make you feel terrible about badmouthing your advisor in the first place or pampering you with unsure promises of it all getting better in the future, he makes today feels like its worth something.

Between kisses and running fingers over whatever skin you can find, he undresses you slowly and into his hoodie. And as he builds a cozy fort with all your throw blankets and pillows and comforters, you massage your vanilla-scented lotion into his naked back, nimble fingers carefully working around all the stiff knots.

"This is unfair!" you screech, lunging at him with a pillow when he brutally defeats you at scrabble, yet again.

Dokyeom barely gets the time to yelp before you're tackling him into the nest of blankets, the carefully built fort partially collapsing in the corner you push him against. The wooden tiles scatter everywhere, a few disappearing beneath the sheets or bouncing around before landing near the half-eaten desserts.

"You're just mad because I'm a genius," he declares, shielding himself with his forearm as you attempt to whack him again.

"You made up 'florp'," you accuse.

"It's a real word, check on Google."

"Google will say anything is a real word. But that's not how dictionaries work!"

"They do when you're pure of heart."

The entire fort crumbles around you in soft swooshes, cushioning your bodies when you fall on him. He instinctively wraps his arms around, pulling closer over the weighted blanket. You hit his bicep one last time, a light half-hearted attempt, before pouting and burying your face in the crook of his neck. The fading cologne of his is blanketed by the richer aroma of burnt coffee and buttered sugar, it shouldn't tempt you to inhale it again and again with needy drags. But you do. Your warm breath tickles his skin and you see them in real time as goose-bumps rise on the skin of his forearm which is visible under his half-pushed sleeves. You trace thoughtless patterns all over them, connecting them like stars in some constellation.

You don't know when it happens, or how it happens, but a few moments later you find yourself tangling your little, cold fingers between his much longer ones. A soft sound of amusement laced with something deeper, richer, escapes your lips when you press your palm to his and his digits slot so easily between your own. His hand is so big compared to yours, not just in size, but the strength, the surety of his grip and the protection of his hold as he contains you closer to his chest.

You run your fingertip over the back of his palm, and he stares at you intently trying to sync his breathing with yours with broken pauses when you speak, "I love your hands."

A warm chuckle rumbles under your cheek which is pressed to his collarbone.

"They're just hands," he says and you shake your head.

"No, they're the hands that replace my coffee without me noticing…the hands that braid my hair when my head hurts…hands that help me undress when I'm too overwhelmed to do so but too overstimulated to admit it out loud," you shift just enough to let your eyes meet his reverent ones, "they are the ones that write my name in every dumb little heart that you draw around my notes."

Dokyeom seems at a loss of words at your sudden confession, and even more so when you bring his palm up to press a kiss in the middle of it before proceeding to press it over your chest.

"You're being really cute right now," he attempts to joke, but you notice just how slightly his fingers shiver over your flesh.

Desperate and nervous at the same time, almost as if he wants to saturate his hands with the feeling of your skin until he has mapped out every single inch of yours fully, unabashedly. But at the same time, he realizes that this is you…the girl he has been in love with for over three years and the girl who had turned stone cold when he had tried to touch you like that for the first time.

It had been sophomore year, and the two of you were dating for around four months by the time. It was immediately after a party at your dorm-house. You both had been a bit tipsy, laughing too loudly in the empty hallway as he carried you on his back to your dorm-room. You remember catching a glimpse of yourself in your mirror when he led you inside and the view of your smudged-mascara paired with your gray sweater made you giggle. He kept wiping it away with the sleeve of his sweatshirt while you mumbled with a pout that you looked like a raccoon.

The gentleness, one you had grown to associate with him always, was there then too. His hands hovered before they touched you, his pleading eyes always asking before his fingers could make a move.

You had kissed him, assuring him that you wanted it…that you wanted his hands to be the one to take your clothes off and his eyes to be the first ones to see you naked.

He had taken his sweet time to get there, making out with every inch of your skin, slowly and with a wet heat that you still feel sometimes. You remember how your head had spun, the walls of the room warping in on themselves the more he worshipped you.

You had felt so cared for, so looked after.

But then, when his fingers moved from tracing your ribs to down where all your sensations had heightened, everything inside you locked.

You thought your body would continue welcoming him like it had been doing so far—skin tingling and eyes anticipating. But before his fingertips could even make contact with your growing wetness, your legs had snapped shut with such ferocity that it startled him to see you coil away like that. The more you tried to process it—the more you tried to bring yourself back into the room and in his arms—the shorter your breaths got, muscles pulling tight like wires.

Dokyeom had backed down comically quickly, and assured you with this immediate urgency that it was fine, that you didn't have to do anything.

Tugging you into a loose hug, he had lulled you back to sleep while you wept silently in his chest, murmuring how you didn't know what had happened and that you did want it.

Perhaps you weren't ready for it, perhaps it was another whim that you had been on ever since coming to University. But he had understood and agreed with any and all explanations, ensuring you that he didn't need them.

Always so gentle and careful, especially with you, Dokyeom had never tried initiating sexual intimacy after that. Neither had you, bound by the fear that it might lead to another disappointment and you were afraid that the devastation might kill you this time around.

But tonight, with his fingers stationed on your body like they had no intention of moving away unless you insisted and with love ebbing in your heart like the contents of an ocean poured into a lake, you feel surer than ever of it.

His breath hitches when you hold his hand between both of your palms and begin trailing it down below, under the sheet and closer to where you ache for him the most. He says your name like a plea, like a question.

You answer him by pressing your lips to his jaw. "I want it," you whisper, "I want to try again."

He doesn't ask you if you're sure, he leaves no window for you to second-guess that. Because the need for him to honor all your wishes is inbuilt within him like red to his blood.

"Tell me when to stop," he says before pushing himself up enough to hover over you.

You nod eagerly. He pushes your hoodie up to your chest with one hand while making sure not to disturb the blanket that covers you hips down. Perhaps it is one of your armors that might give you some sense of strength.

Your shy tendencies appreciate the additional layer that shields your nakedness, but you know that even if he were to undo it, you'd feel safe.

Because this time around, it's not a hasty decision to lose your virginity to your first boyfriend ever, it is rather a conclusion that you have arrived upon after sharing your life with him until your soul lay in his palm threadbare while you watched him hold it like his own life.

This time, Dokyeom holds your eyes when his fingers slip into your underwear. He hisses at the impact with your slick folds. "So wet," he mumbles, "how long were you thinking about this?"

All my life, you want to answer.

"All the time," you moan instead when they slip down to stroke your melting heat.

Dokyeom's fingers are so skilled at making you pulse more than you already are as they cover your entire cunt. Thumb drawing soft but contained circles over your clit, fingers soothing the folds that grow slicker with each movement, occasional pinches on your nub that make you whimper more than they hurt…he is everywhere.

And for the first time, the idea of sharing your most vulnerable parts with someone doesn't make you ashamed or anxious.

It rather thrills you, feeling how he pleasures you between your legs more than anyone—yourself included—ever could. Your breaths mingle into a steamy haze of moans and grunts as you kiss him.

He presses his forehead down on yours, biting his lips and savoring in this moment like this is as pleasurable for him as it is for you.

"Tell me," he huffs, "does it feel good?"

"So…so good, Dokyeom," you clutch the pillow hard.

"Yeah," he talks you through it as his fingers flirt with the idea of pushing inside your leaking hole, "does it feel as good as when you touch yourself?"

That makes you stutter a bit, just for a split second, because the very next moment he is pressing a chaste, open-mouthed kiss into the column of your neck and you feel your legs part even more.

"I never….I mean, I've tried," you admit. Your skin turns scarlet under him, and it is almost impossible for him to determine if it is because of your innocent confession or the things he is doing between your thighs.

Something soft and broken flashes across his face when you tell him that you've never been able to make yourself come this way. But a playful determination overtakes it when he finally pushes one of his long, sturdy fingers inside of you and instead of clenching up painfully, you only tighten around him when he tries to pull it out.

"So sweet," he praises, kissing the stray tear from the corner of your eye, and feels you ease up again when he pushes the finger back in, "so eager, my love."

"D-Dokyeom," you hitch when you feel his another finger at your entrance…you had barely accustomed yourself to one of them.

"Shh baby," he insists, "you can take it, I know. You are doing so well so far…and if it hurts, we stop, okay?"

Your eyes search for anything akin to a doubt in his eyes. When you find none, you feel yourself easing up in his steady embrace. The trust you have on him in this moment is beyond any worries of yours. And so, you let him wrap one of your legs over his hips with one hand while he pushes another finger into your warmth.

"Just like that baby," he groans when his fingers ease up without strain, snug and warm inside of you.

Your back arches of the ground when he begins pumping them with a certain rhythm and you press yourself closer to him until you feel his heartbeat right against your own. The orgasm that washes over you is so inevitable, yet it takes you by surprise when you scream out his name. His fingers only pick pace up, the squelching sounds intensifying now that the sweet evidence of your love for him flows down in messy waves around his fingers as you fall apart.

Your body buzzes with the intensity of your orgasm, so you are not fully aware when he pushes your underwear down your legs and disappears down the blanket. The loss of fabric isn't noticeable for long though, because he instantly covers your soaked cunt with his mouth. Your thighs had gone limp on either side of him, but they tighten and coil around his neck when he begins cleaning you up with hungry licks.

He doesn't eat you out, he ravishes you like a man parched. His nose presses down against your sensitive nub, but he is determined to press as many kisses to your blushing core as you can take without pushing him away.

Someone so devoid of sexual intimacy, now overdosing on it.

You are no better though. Even as your limbs scream to rest after the overwhelming climax from some moments ago and your back aches from arching so much, you can't help but press yourself deeper and deeper into his mouth, welcoming him he begins sucking on your engorged clit.

Your legs shake and your fingers knot into his hair when your second orgasm crashes down on you earlier and harder than your last one, thanks to your overused and sore nerves.

Your boyfriend emerges flushed, soaked-lipped and breathless from between your legs, but not before littering the flesh of your abdomen and thighs with a hundred tiny kisses.

He stares down at you for long, silent moments, trying to catch his breath that he lost somewhere between kissing you and claiming you. You hold onto his arms, your own breathing rapid and ragged while you wait for his next move.

"Wanna go further?" he finally asks, toying with the hem of your sweatshirt.

With your legs still parted and coiled around his hips as you occasionally rub yourself against his hard body, he already knows the answer, but he wants to hear it from you no matter how gone you are.

"Yes," you hiss, flexing your hips again against the rough fabric of his jeans, "fuck yes."

A single flick of his wrists undoes the hoodie and has you naked and writhing underneath him. Subconsciously, you brace yourself for the ancient pang to hit you again, one which is often accompanied with the urge to cover yourself up.

But nothing happens.

Because the more Dokyeom's eyes darken with pure, molten want, the more pride you feel in your skin. You don't want to hide, even though he is fully clothed above you. It only pushes you further to tug at his shirt, silently prying him to join you. He ignores it though, because all his senses are zeroes down on the hardened nipples on your breast. He swoops down to capture one of them between his lips. His slick tongue that is still coated with your arousal, drags against them over and over again until you are keening below him, now shamelessly rubbing yourself all over your boyfriend.

You chant his name because it is the only appropriate word that occupies your mind as you undo the buttons of his shirt. Frustrated, you pull at the fabric until they give away at once.

"Fuck I love it when you're fiesty," Dokyeom doesn't even have the decency to detach his lips from your breasts when he speaks.

His fingers undo the zipper of his jeans and push it along with his boxer down his legs somehow while ensuring he doesn't stop touching you. His legs get caught up in the hurried movements and you break into a fit of giggles, covering your eyes.

"Hey, that's insulting," he pouts, assuming that you're laughing at his nude form.

"No!" you say, pressing your palms over his abs, "you're just so silly."

"Am I?" he says, trying to keep the lightheartedness alive as he fishes for a condom in his wallet. You're grateful for it though, because it distracts you from the thoughts of what you just glimpsed at and if it is going to fit. For a moment, your head gets swarmed by all the Buzzfeed horror stories you read as a teen about 'it' getting 'stuck' painfully. But then, you also remember reading in some self-help book about taking charge and facing things that scare you.

In this case, your boyfriend's huge cock.

And so,

"I wanna blow you before you fuck me!" you announce out of nowhere.

Dokyeom is in the middle of ripping the packet of condom between his teeth when you say that. It falls down and lands over your stomach.

"You what?" he blinks.

"I wanna suck your dick."

"Oh."

Slowly, he shifts back, allowing you space to get up from the ground. You somehow push yourself up to your elbows and watch him as he leans against the wall, his hand stroking his member as he waits for you to do what you want to do. He looks so clueless at your sudden enthusiasm that it makes you laugh. Surely, haunted by the last time the two of you tried having sex, he must have thought that this time too, he should take his careful, sweet time to ease you into it…clearly unaware of what had shifted within you over the years.

Your outspokenness isn't a switch flipped, but something that you have been eased into with him.

You are still smiling when you crawl until you reach his lap. And once you do, you do not waste much time before applying what you had seen quite a few times in movies by kissing the tip of his cock as he fists it aggressively while keeping his eyes on you. Moisture gushes behind your lips at the view of his flushed cheeks and eager hips as he ruts them towards you.

You give him what he silently begs for by gently tucking your hair behind your ears, wrapping your lips around his shaft and making yourself push down on him as much as you can until you feel your throat close up around him.

"Fuck baby yes…." he hisses, fluttering lashes drinking in the image of you as you hold his gaze and slowly begin bobbing your head.

One of his arms creeps up behind your neck to aid your movements while the other gathers your hair up in a ponytail in his fist. Maybe he did that with the intention of providing you some extra support as you sloppily suck his cock for the first time as best as you can. But when the slight pressure on your neck and the pull of hair in his fist begins making your vision double, you realize it is more about him trying to regain some sort of control as everything slips away from him under your ministrations.

"Such a pretty cocksucker," he praises, brushing your cheek with his thumb just when you pull him out of your mouth with a fit of coughs.

With a little nudge of his hands, he tries to move your pretty, swollen lips back onto his cock, but you protest, "I can't wait anymore."

Your nails scratch his chest as you haphazardly climb his lap and kiss him.

"Won't it hurt you more this way?" he manages even though your teeth are pulling at his lips.

"No I think this way I'd be more in control of it," you ramble almost enthusiastically, but then when you wrap your fingers around it and remember how you barely had been able to take him halfway down your throat, you begin to dim, "at least I think so…"

Your dubious eyes flicker up to his, glassier and wider than ever. The slight tremble in your lips makes him tighten his hold over your hips like a promise.

"I'll help you through it," he says. And even with his rumpled up hair and flushed face that make it seem like he can barely formulate a coherent thought under the weight of this moment, he sounds surer than ever.

Your words fail you as the gravity of what you're about to do tightens around you. You feel like you are confined inside something thick, yet sweet. You rope your arms around his neck and kiss him through it as you begin to descend your hips down until he is perfectly aligned with you.

Both of yours' eyes meet and darken in tandem as the realization hits you...just one push, that's all it will take for you to finally lose your virginity.

He licks his lips, "May I?"

"Yeah," you gulp, "yeah, please."

He flexes his hips gently but with intention, and at the same time, his hold over you tightens. The stretch of the first half of him makes you double down until you're pressed chest to chest, your face finding home in the crook of his neck as uncontrollable tears begin rushing down. He doesn't move any further, just pats your hair all while mumbling sweet nothings to you.

"You're so….so beautiful my love," his voice is lush yet contained, like velvet forced between concrete, "you feel better than I ever imagined."

You continue to whimper into his neck, not knowing whether to move up or down.

"Relax," he says, almost as if he senses your strain. "let it flow…listen to your body babe."

Your eyes flutter shut, all the worries that you had about doing something wrong dim at his reassurances. You take a few breaths, no matter how jagged.

"I love you," he reminds you and you are so grateful that he does. Because with his confession, something loosens within you…almost like sugar melting above open fire and turning into syrup. You feel your hips relax, and you effortlessly slide all the way down until you are flushed fully down on him with a broken gasp.

Your body continues to shiver, it is a strange sensation, but a pleasurable one. One that you want to accustom yourself to. One that you want to feel again and again, even when it makes you cry.

His big hands hold your hips gently, fingers twitching as if he's trying to resist gripping you tighter. Your unfocused eyes blink up at him to see his reaction, but the feeling of him, the weight of him, the hardness of him makes it impossible for you to stay still and focus. His body trembles against yours when you frantically begin rutting your hips in whatever motion you can. Up, down…or grinding when your thighs begin to ache.

It doesn't take long for your body to turn pliant and exhausted with the effort and when you whine his name yet again, he helps you by taking charge and bucking his hips against you, doing most of the work as you nearly give up on riding his enormous, girthy length.

His fists gather the flesh on your bottom as his movements become more and more commanding. He easily moves you up and down his cock, the only evidence of any strain being the slight bulge of the veins on his hands. His head falls back as your moans turn into screams and eventually tears—music to his ears.

"You feel so warm and so good," he says while you mewl at the slow drag of his cock as he begins slowing down to savor it more, "thank you baby…thank you so much for trusting me with this."

He makes a point to emphasize that when his fingers slip down from where they were toying with your breasts down to stroke your clit and you feel like he just lit you alive.

When a jolt of pleasure between your legs threatens to break you apart, you fully collapse on top of him, latching onto him like your life depends.

"No no no," he blabbers almost urgently, "look at me, please look at me!"

Thrust down in a place too deep, dark and hot, you fail to even lift your head as your orgasm washes over you. Dokyeom surges with you until your back hits the ground, all while he continues pistoning in and out of you with even more urgency, trying to intensify your pleasure the best he can.

"Baby, please open your eyes, just for a moment," he pleads, his voice cracking as he cradles your face. Wrapping your legs around him for some sort of support does help you calm down enough to tilt your head and honor his wish and your breath catches at the sight of him.

He looks so owned, so wrecked, so gone….just yours.

His lips are slick with your saliva, parted and panting right above your swollen ones which tingle with the ghost of his heated kisses. The wetness between your thighs pools down below on the mattress from overuse and you moan at the lewd sounds of his sweat-soaked skin slapping against your spent one.

"Dokyeom…" you sigh, fingers holding onto his shoulders as he shudders at the utter nearness of his climax. You try to clench around him harder than you already are, but it is your words that break him. "I love you…I am yours, now more than ever."

He grunts as he spills apart inside of you, the condom from earlier lying forgotten somewhere between the pillows. But your mind doesn't rush there, not at all, especially not when the love of your life continues filling you with the shy evidence of his devotion to you. You arch above the ground, almost like him spilling inside of you pumps something new, something raw within you.

"Now more than ever," he repeats your words from earlier, face still buried in your hair while his fingers shiver on the pillow your head rests upon, "now more than ever."

By the time he returns back to bed after having put all the soiled sheets and pillows away, you are arousing from your languid nap that had engulfed you somewhere between when he carried you to the bathroom and when he was massaging your head with your coconut scented shampoo. He had already tucked fresh sheets in your bed and the comforter he had wrapped over you feels nothing short of a warm cloud when he slips in.

You smile up at him shyly, the raw act of intimacy that you had indulged in with him over and over again not even an hour ago seems to have stirred something new into the sweet concoction that was your relationship. A brighter colour flushes your cheeks when you remember the ragged state of him when he came inside you. A sharper spice settles down in your lower abdomen that still aches with the need for his intense lovemaking all over again.

But you know better than overdo your sore body so you allow him to just pull you gently closer under his arm and onto his chest, all while trying not to remember the smidge of the deep, dark crimson that coated his length as well as the sheets when he had finally pulled out. Your blood, the loss of which doesn't feel like bereavement at all. Not something taken away from you, but something replaced within you. A new sensation, a new definition of need, a new act of love.

You find yourself pressing your cheek deeper into his collarbone, breathing in the scent of your soap on his skin.

But Dokyeom doesn't seem relaxed, because you know what that looks like by now. His breathing doesn't get even neither does he crack some flurry of dumb jokes that will have you fall asleep with a smile on your lips and contentment in your heart. On the contrary, you can feel him fidget with something in his other hand that he doesn't wrap around you.

Strange.

"Kyeom?" You ask.

"Mhmm?"

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing babe...why would you ask?"

"You seem...tensed," you begin to move away from him when a thought begins to form that you'd rather not think about, especially not after what just happened. Your fingers tighten over the comforter over your chest when you say it out loud, "do you...do you regret it?"

His eyes widen when you say that, and despite the glow on his face and the boyish charm of the hair falling over his eyebrows, he looks like someone who has witnessed war.

He shoots right up, his arms already reaching for you but you only pull back.

"Was it not good?" you ask, trying your best to fight the tears that threaten to spill, "because I liked it very much...but if it wasn't as good as you, I-I'm ready to hear it. It's just it was my first time and I didn't know-"

"Babe!" he says, his voice a bit louder as he finally grasps onto your arms desperately, "please, no...that's not...that's not what I'm thinking. It was the most beautiful night ever, really. Regret is the last thing I am feeling right now."

Dokyeom's eyes gleam with this longing plea for you to trust him, the intensity of which renders you doubtless about his words.

"Then what is it?" You ask meekly, a bit embarrassed of your earlier rant.

A hollow silence lingers in the room around you. You wait for him to meet your eyes, but all he does is fish for something in his pocket and holds it between the two of you. A small, butterfly shaped pendant captured between two pearls dangles down a long silver chain from between his fingers like a fragile taunt.

When he looks up at you, there's a blush on his cheeks, "I...uh, I bought this for you. For Valentines. But I...I didn't find the time to gift to you earlier."

Your fingers reach forward to feel the pearls on either side of the pendant, barely caressing them. You have always adored pearls just as much as you have loved butterflies.

"Dokyeom, it's perfect...it's everything I love," your eyes shine with undiluted wonder, "It must have taken you so much time to find it."

"It didn't actually," he says, scratching the back of his head, "it was quick."

"What do you mean?"

"Uh...it is...it is custom."

"What!?" your sharp voice startles him, "you got custom jewlry made for me?"

He laughs, a little nervous, "It's not much...just a pendant. But yeah, I wanted to give you something that I know you would love."

"But it must be so expensive."

"It wasn't a pressure, really."

"Wait," you begin deflating on the bed, the mattress sinking down with your weight as you shrivel, "is this why you had been picking up those extra shifts at the coffee-house?"

Dokyeom purses his lips, this isn't the worrisome reaction he wanted from you. "Baby, really. Don't worry about the cost of it...I really wanted to gift you something like this."

"But-"

"You have already given me so much," he says, whispering your name like a prayer. You notice how his voice wobbles around it, like he is treading carefully, "all your busy days that you somehow squeeze me into, even if it means walking twenty-five minutes from the cosy library to study in the uncomfortable, loud coffee-house just to spend some time with me, albeit at a distance. All your smiles and tears that you share with me, making me feel like the luckiest man alive...and when you let me hold you between my palms, it's like all my dreams and wishes finally made flesh and bones."

Your fist over your blanket tightens, your tears falling down on it like rain.

He licks his lips, wiping your tears before continuing, "So trust me when I say that tonight...especially after what happened tonight, this necklace feels so insincere against what all you've given me."

The blanket falls between you, catching between your tangled limbs as you throw yourself at him, hugging him close. All the bruises of his teeth on your chest burn when you press him close, but you don't care.

Somewhere between ugly tears and blubbering confessions and reaffirmations of love, you convince him to put the pendant on you. His fingers shiver and knot between your hair as he attempts to secure it in place, and tells you how he was hesitating about when to give it to you because he didn't want you to think that he was gifting you something in exchange of tonight but that he also wanted you to feel appreciated. An unnecessarily dilemma, you conclude. Because how could anything from him to you ever feel insincere?

He doesn't stop caressing you--your back, your neck, your lower abdomen, as he lies you down back on the bed. And though there has been an undeniable shift in your relationship moving onwards, with the warmth of his generous touch and a token of his adoration hanging around your neck, it all only feels like an addition to what you already have.

What you've always had.

.

a/n: hi hiii! sorry for being mia for around a month now i know this is so late but i think i've hit another writing slump skibgjkebgrj i will still be finishing my valentines event before taking a rest/starting a new project tho! thank u for being so patient w me <333

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