#seokmin fluff

Eventually, word spread as his close friends eyed him up and down before cooing that, “Something is gonna change when you two get back to Korea.” Of course, he tries to debunk those ideas that now began running through his head, trying to attempt to ignore those playful looks on their faces as they began to poke him around.

“Take photos, maybe look for nice stuff near the shore? I want to see you collect seashells.” Some people thought differently as to how you two would spend your vacation together. Seokmin’s mother was one of those people; her voice bloomed roses as he called her up to let her know where he was going to take you.

“I will, I will.” His smile is evident when he looks up to you, packing your stuff in a suitcase. He notices your swimwear, the one that was placed on top of your nice top that was on theme with the one he had already set in his suitcase.

“Do you want me to bring you a souvenir?” Seokmin asked his mother, suddenly getting up and giving you the phone, you look at him, confused as to what he was doing, “They could buy you something, they know which ones are the best.”

“Hey! You’re the one who’s supposed to give something to your own parent.” When you hear the laughter that erupted from the speaker on his phone, you couldn’t help but smile awkwardly. You quietly take the phone as you have a conversation about souvenirs with Seokmin’s mother.

When you two landed, the first thing he felt was the temperature difference, as if there was a heatwave that slammed on his face even when it was already dark. Cold nights seem not to have existed in the area.

The two of you couldn't take the time to look around at how coastal towns spend their nights, as you found yourself jet lagged and sweating already, plopping onto the bed with your boyfriend. Did you two bother to unpack? No, this is part of the healing moments.

But not without prepping yourself for bed. You look at the time, it was already midnight, and Seokmin turns to look at you, propping his arm to support his head.

“Do you want to change?” He asked you, the hem of your top slowly being lifted as the dampness of your sweat just didn’t want to let go of it. Seokmin was getting eager.

You shake your head, you didn’t want to stick into fresh clothes.

“Shower first?”

You only hummed in response, not wanting to move at all, yet Seokmin dragged you into the bathroom to take a shower with him, the new soaps that you two had bought for this occasion finally being put to the test.

The feeling of his hands is gentle, and the look of joy on Seokmin’s face as you clean his face. There were still soap suds to the point of covering his whole face, but you wanted to kiss him at that moment as he washed your hair carefully, just the way you like it.

Seokmin liked how much you did everything you could to hug him, even in the shower as the two of you let the water run on your skin, falling on your back as the bathroom began to smell of sweet florals and his natural scent.

Shaaa…

And as you wrap up with your arms around the still-warm Seokmin in bed. Your face breathed onto his bare neck, not wanting to kiss away the lotion and many other skincare products that touched his face.

Seokmin had the smell of the fancy bar soap sticking in his skin and jasmine, and you wanted to wrap yourself around the smell of his favorite detergent scent that lingered on his clothes. You leave kisses on his neck.

You didn’t think mornings would be this soft, the white bed and dark blue covers, you always find Seokmin on the same side as you, not wanting to leave your side; it’s something you’re still getting used to.

Even when you two started dating, work had always found time to take him further and further away from you, with more promotions leading to more frequent video calls. Honestly, there were moments when he was on the other side, and you stayed up to listen to him rant about his days.

Now that you’re on the same page, it’s nice to wake up next to a still sleeping Seokmin. He was wearing his pajamas, a special pair, as he matched yours. Similar patterns of puzzle pieces.

The window that Seokmin left open for the cold air to enter blows the curtains gently as the cool morning breeze hits your face.

“Do you mind closing the window?” Seokmin suddenly said, turning away from the breeze, moving himself closer to you as he wraps an arm around you.

“You’re closer to the window,” you say, pushing him away as you turn your back on him. Of course, the “cold shoulder” never worked on Seokmin, with how quickly he immediately tackled you. Fluttering your face with kisses and marks of affection.

“Come on, you gotta close the window…”

“Seokmin, you’re so close you just need a finger—mmph!” You were interrupted with a warm kiss on Seokmin's lips. You sometimes forget how his lips always find their way to yours.

Seokmin loved summer and how it brought him every moment to be closer to you.

He remembers how you two first met. By the beach, you struck up a conversation with him, and he was ready to dive deep into the ocean for you.

He really was, his lips leaving pecks on your shoulder as you look at yourself in the mirror before getting ready to leave. He always loved how you wore sleeveless tops just for him.

Seokmin’s hat was snug around your head, pulling it up so that you could see his face. You instantly pulled it further away as you got a good look at him, even when the sun blazed through your face.

And just like the waves that hit the soles of your feet, the sun shines on Seokmin’s face just right. And you are absolutely floored.

“You’re not wearing the top?”

Of course, he wasn’t. It was the perfect weather for a good tan, though Seokmin looks at you confused when you ask him, holding out the shirt, he tilts his head.

“No, you don’t need to put it back on,” you say nothing else as you take the shirt away from him, the material felt loose when you put it over your shoulder.

It’s not like you haven’t seen him without his shirt on; you literally showered with him yesterday. Yet, seeing him smile at you, the more you realize the most unforgettable thing about him.

There was always a way he looked at you.

As you look at his empty hand, before grabbing it, the way it felt different compared to yours, and how you had always seen it through hand gestures in his dances, or the way he used the microphone. Feeling it holding on, you look back at Seokmin, who just so happened to be already looking at you.

“Wanna swim?” Seokmin asked, wearing his usual stupid grin, and with that usual smile, gave you a quiet kiss on the cheek.

Your body felt warm, but you knew it wasn’t because of the sun. Grabbing a palm full of the ocean, you splash it on Seokmin as he immediately lets go of your hand.

“You did not just—”  You didn’t let him finish speaking as you splash him another one, really getting it into his face.

You immediately made a run for it, “You can’t get me!”

Seokmin wasn’t ready to lose by a measly splash of water. Trying to find ground, his feet sunk onto the sand before he sprinted to get to you. It wasn’t long before you could hear his loud voice yelling for you to get back.

You decide to make a turn in another direction, but Seokmin was just a little faster than you. Picking up speed, he corners you near the waves of the ocean. You were much closer to your doom than ever

Splash! Splash! Splash!

You’re downright soaked, even more than whatever kind of damage you gave to Seokmin, yet you weren’t ready to lose, still.

You splash more ocean water on Seokmin, spinning your arms like a propeller. Seokmin tries to do the same thing as whatever you did, but you were almost drowning him a little too quickly, moving closer and closer to his figure.

“Okay—please—ugh—stop!” Seokmin cries out through each water, almost hitting his eyes. He puts his hands in a surrender position, turning his back on you and from any other water that was about to come for him.

Seokmin does attempt to turn back, though flinching a bit when he sees you palming a small cup of water.

“I think that’s enough water for today.” You say.

“Yeah. We should probably get back, I’ve got another thing coming.” Seokmin said, grabbing his shirt that was now in your hand and using it as a towel.

“Is it more water?”

Seokmin thought about it. It would be much more fun if it were. But, as you two walk over to where you had placed your blanket, what he unloads from his bag is a small box. And as he hands you the box, he kisses you on the cheek before letting you open it.

“Happy anniversary, Baby.” Seokmin looks at the way you smile, pulling out a stringed necklace, the center of the blue shell shimmered white. You couldn’t let go of him as he hugged you.

Something did happen when you two returned to Korea. Seokmin had an obvious tan and many memories to talk to his friends about.

Other than stories, you wore the necklace and fell in love with Seokmin even more.

thank you for reading bear ( bare ) hug like, reblog and send me your feedback! ⤷ find me on : ao3 (mellow_wishes) | wattpad (mellow-wishes)

mellow's notes : does this show how much i need lee seokmin ….? because damn i really do

you know seokmin wants to be held the moment he comes into your shared bedroom without a greeting, instantly going to the bed and falling face first into your lap. he's bigger than you, body covering your entire lower half without a second thought.

putting your phone down, you bring your hand down to rub your boyfriend's back. after a few minutes of silence, save for his soft breathing, he looks up at you, brown eyes wide with desperation as he sighs aloud.

"hi to you too." you chuckle softly, and seokmin cracks a smile at that, bare face handsome and beaming as he speaks. "sorry i didn't say anything when i came in. didn't feel like it."

you knew something was off the moment seokmin came into your room without a word, but you didn't want to press him on the situation, nodding with understanding as you smile. "it's okay. i'm just happy to have you back with me."

"can we cuddle, babe?" seokmin asks, face in a pleading expression as he scoots further up on the bed to kiss your lips softly. "i want to be held by you."

his words hold so much vulnerability in them, you agree without a second thought. nodding, you smile as seokmin gets up, putting himself beside you in the bed as he leans on your shoulder. you take him in your arms instead, letting him press his head against your chest as he lets his eyes close, taking a deep breath.

"good?" you ask gently, and seokmin nods, voice low and relaxed as he replies, "better than good."

smiling, you press a kiss to his forehead, letting him wrap his arms around your waist and keep his head pressed to your chest. he smiles against you a few moments later, and you giggle at the phantom feeling of his face moving against you, questioning him on the change of expression.

"what's so funny?" you inquire softly, and seokmin shakes his head ever so slightly, laughing moments later.

"i can hear your heart beating." seokmin says, and you giggle, nodding. "yeah. it means i'm still breathing."

"i know that," you can hear the 'duh' in seokmin's voice before he continues on, "i was just about to say how fast it's going right now."

even though you've been dating seokmin for seven months, the fact that you get nervous when he's close to you like this never changes. it's no surprise that your heart is speeding because he's so close to you.

"i think it's so cute when you go quiet because you don't know what to say," seokmin says aloud, and you scoff, knowing your cheeks are a bright red as you sigh. "i should have thrown you off of me the moment you got on me."

that causes both of you to laugh, your head falling on top of seokmin's as he laughs lowly against you.

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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VALENTINES TAGLIST FORM

MASTERLIST

Ooh, fall and free, fall and free Fall and free, fall and free Fall and free

Your accident made news all over the city, the scandal of a promising club singer robbed of her memories overshadowing the ongoing murders haunting the darkest corners. As far as you know, you slipped and fell during a robbery gone wrong, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. You woke up at Neo City Memorial Hospital with your head wrapped in bandages and swollen, black eyes. Your mother prayed in front of a holographic Bible, clutching her Rosary tightly, while your father stared blankly out the window, lost in thought. It was the worst day of your life that you can remember, and it lingers in your mind.

So it’s no surprise that people from all over would come to see this mysterious person with a great voice and missing patches of her life put on a performance, because that’s what this city lives and breathes on. Scandals, violence, and sex mixed in between. You’ve figured out your role, and you play it well—it’s the only way you can survive.

I feel love I feel love I feel love

The beat fades out as you’re back on stage, the purple lights shifting slightly and shining on you, the enigma. Claps and cheers erupt in the club, and you let yourself bask in it all as the velvet curtains close. Buzzing from the energy of the crowd, you stand there rooted in place, your eyes closed as you hear them chant ENCORE! ENCORE! ENCORE! The buzz you get from this can never be replicated, no matter how much kosmi dust you snort. 

“Well done, gorgeous.”

Turning around, you face your boss, Cado, who walks towards you, clapping his hands. Your buzz drops like a free fall.

“Just doing my job, boss,” you sarcastically salute, the energy in the room shifting to something colder. It’s no surprise your boss is attracted to you, and you don’t miss the way he gazes over your body as something to possess rather than something to behold. He’s offered many times to get you to do “work” on the side for him, but you never budged. Maybe it’s worked on others, but not you. You don’t shit where you eat.

He’s unfortunately a conventionally attractive man, with a jawline sculpted by a god and dark, seductive brown eyes you can get trapped in. Cado takes good care of his body, bragging about how much he works out and sometimes flexing his arms or flashing his abs. All he talks about is himself and his money; it doesn’t impress you.

“You know my offer still stands, if you are looking for extra work,” Cado offers, a glint of mischievousness in his eyes.

Giving him a slow once-over, you snort. “I don’t need the extra money. You know that,” you scoff. “I’m sure one of the waitresses might.”

You walk away before he can say another word, exiting the side stage and heading to the bar. The need for a stiff drink is strong as ever, craving a shot of Sunshine Mist that’ll burn your throat and numb you in the best way. You only put up with Cado’s advances because this club feels familiar to you, even though you don't remember working here before. The nice guy facade he tried to put on at first, you saw through that early on. You see him for who he is, and you’ve made it clear every chance you get.

Holding your fingers up towards the bartender, Chan, you take a seat on the stool as the lively chatter and studio music fade into the background. Your head bobs lightly, your fingers drumming on the counter as you wait for your drink.

“Rough night?” Chan asks, twirling the cocktail shaker.

“Eh, just Cado being Cado,” you quip.

“My condolences,” he chuckles, sliding the shot towards you.

You snort, grabbing the glass and throwing it back. It gives you an almost therapeutic burn, instantly putting you at ease. Sunshine Mist is one of the strongest drinks concocted, and while not everyone can stand its aftereffects, it’s your preferred drink here, especially when dealing with the likes of Cado. For a moment, everything softens, and your buzz has returned, leaving your skin tingling all over.

“Mind if I join you?”

You turn towards an unfairly attractive stranger standing beside you, staring at him blankly before realizing you were. His dark hair falls across his forehead, his smile bright enough to rival the neon lights flooding the club. He definitely doesn’t fit this crowd, and you don’t recall ever seeing him, but you are not a stranger to unusual occurrences.

You gesture towards the stool next to you, and he follows your lead, scooting his seat closer to you.

Chan gives him a measured look. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll have the same thing she’s having,” the stranger responds, tapping his watch and revealing a digicard. “And put hers on my tab.”

“Thank you,” you say, the curves of your mouth twitching.

“You’re welcome, gorgeous.”

Your eyebrows lift, followed by a silvery laugh. Studying him more carefully, you can’t help but notice the shape of his eyes, the curve of his smile, the timbre of his voice. A flutter of butterflies invades your stomach; you shake your head as the heat creeps up your neck.

“So, what’s the catch?”

It’s his turn to lift his brow. “Catch?”

Sitting up straighter, you throw him a look. “You bought me a drink, which is greatly appreciated, but I have the feeling that you didn’t come over here to take a shot with me.”

You can’t help but notice the way his eyes twinkle when he laughs. “Okay, you caught me,” he says, raising his hands. “I just wanted to tell you I liked your performance.”

You stare at him blankly, and then you laugh. “That’s it?” You flash him a smile. “I’m almost disappointed.”

“Give me time.”

Chan slides the drink over to the stranger, who catches the rim with the tips of his fingers. The veins on his hands pop suddenly, and you shake away the thoughts that are creeping into your head. He thanks Chan as he takes his shot, shooting it back in the same manner you did. The burning liquor doesn't faze him at all, and you sit there impressed.

“Seokmin.”

Your brows knit together. “Excuse me?”

He pulls out his hand to shake. “My name is Seokmin.”

You giggle, realizing he was introducing himself. “Nice to meet you,” you say, shaking his hand in return. “My name is—”

“I know who you are,” he says smoothly. His hand is warm and soft, and you can’t shake this sensation in your chest. You gaze at each other, your body feeling drawn to him, as if magnetism is pushing you together. Your hand is still in his, and you are in no hurry to let it go.

“I’m sorry, I have to ask,” you say suddenly. “But have we met before?”

Seokmin falters slightly before regaining his composure, slowly taking his hand from yours. “I—”

“Hey, boss wants us to go over the set list for tomorrow night.”

Your manager, nicknamed Snake-Eyes, appears from behind, holding a holographic tablet with a floating stylus. Looking past your manager, you eye Cado towards the back, watching you intently with a cigarette in his mouth. Of course, he wants to talk about it now, of all the times.

Glancing back at Seokmin, you let out a small sigh, your mood soured once again thanks to your boss. “I’m sorry we have to cut this short,” you say. “Maybe I’ll see you again?”

“Maybe,” Seokmin smiles softly, sending more butterflies to your stomach.

He gives you a hand to slide off the stool, his cologne appealing to your nose. It smells familiar, and you can’t pinpoint where it’s from. Maybe it’s something you came across in the years you can’t remember. Lucky you.

You start to walk away, but something tells you to turn around, and you find him still standing in place, watching you walk away. “Don’t be a stranger?”

He smiles. “Don’t worry, love. You’ll be seeing more of me.”

For some reason, those words resonate with you for the rest of the night.

Seokmin steps out into the wet night, lighting a cigarette from the corner of his mouth. The petrichor is fresh and calming as he deeply inhales, letting the enhanced tobacco burn his throat. It’s past two a.m., and the city is still alive, with no sign of slowing down. Neon lights and advertisements are shoved in his face at every corner, drug paraphernalia in the streets, and people coming from all directions looking for adventure. He remembers when he was that carefree and full of life, looking forward to the next day and many after. But so much has changed, and it feels like a distant memory, a whole lifetime ago.

Seokmin takes another puff as he watches on, lost in the thoughts that have been tormenting him for the past two years. He came to the club to find peace, to get answers to the darkness in his soul and the mystery that refuses to rest in his mind. Seokmin sought a reprieve that can only be cured by one, and when he watched you perform for the crowd, with the light shining on you like the star you are, it made him sadder. You don’t remember him, or your past life together, and every day it gets harder to bear. You are the light of his life, the one thing that has kept him alive, and he is determined to help you remember him, or at least, know the truth.

The authorities say it was an accident. Sure, like he will believe a fall like that will leave you on the brink of death with black eyes, broken ribs, and needing surgery. Seokmin has been a private investigator for many years and has seen a lot of shit, and the insult to his intelligence is laughable. He’s mentioned it to your parents, but they practically threatened to call the police if he came on their property again. The reaction didn’t surprise him much—your parents never thought he was good enough for you anyway.

They never told you about Seokmin and your life together. Your father is a very powerful man, and he had every trace of you and him wiped out of digital existence. It’s almost amusing the lengths he went through to erase Seokmin from your life. But what’s cruelly ironic is that he cannot take Seokmin’s memories away from him. It’s what helps Seokmin sleep at night.

There were many times he sat in the dark, in the apartment that you shared, and thought about barging into the hospital room or the club and telling you the full truth, hoping it would trigger something. But he can’t tell you anything he doesn’t know himself. How were you hurt? Who would do this to you? Why were you targeted? These are questions that have been wrestling in his mind with little to no answers, and forcing the truth on you wouldn’t serve you any better.

But being in your orbit again, hearing your voice and seeing the warmth in your eyes, renewed something in Seokmin’s spirit. He’s more determined than ever to uncover the truth and secure the justice you deserve. To bring you home.

God help anyone who tries to get in Seokmin’s way.

“Hi, baby.”

The voice is a low, honeyed murmur that makes you smile. A kiss is planted on your shoulder in a haze, and your body automatically eases. You reach back, blindly massaging the head of the hidden person as you watch the sun rise in an apartment. He feels familiar, as if you’ve known him for some time, even though you can't see his face.

“Have you been to sleep yet?”

You shake your head, a peaceful smile on your lips as sunlight rises over the horizon. It’s the first time you have seen the sun in days because of the rain, and you're too wired to sleep, thanks to the cup of coffee you had when you came home. “I just wanted to see this—the sun rise,” you explain. “There aren’t enough artificial sun rooms that can compare to the real thing.”

“Mmm,” he hums in agreement. “You are right about that, baby.”

He shifts, placing a lingering kiss beneath your earlobe. A moan escapes your lips as tingles spread throughout your body. His hands are warm, comforting as they grab your waist, pulling you closer to him. His cologne is pleasing, its scent unlike any of the synthetic materials made in factories throughout the city. It’s fresh and comforting, like vanilla, with a hint of aromatic spice. More kisses trail down your neck, his soft lips each imprinting electric and hard to ignore. Your nipples harden at his sensuality, your skin suddenly feeling hot and in need of more touch.

“I’m supposed to be watching the sunrise.” Your protest is weak with little effort. The hidden figure smirks against your skin, a low chuckle booming through his throat. “Not funny,” you sigh.

You turn to face him, kissing him with your eyes closed, allowing your body and mind to give yourself to him completely. His hands roam your body as if they know you, and your spirit isn’t disturbed—instead, your intuition tells you it’s okay, and he’s yours. Your shirt rises over your head, and you lean back into your pillows. Your blanket is caught in between your fingers, a tug of something metal caught in its snag. Raising your hand in the light reveals a ruby ring on a silver band, sitting perfectly on your ring finger.

“I fall in love with this ring every time I see it,” you sigh, the words flowing from your heart. “Good job, lover.”

You look up at him properly, trying to catch the shape of your stranger’s face. But it keeps slipping at the edges, the rays of light refusing to let you focus too hard. His presence, however, feels steady, familiar in a way your thoughts don’t know how to argue with.

“I missed you, you know,” he says, his hands cupping your face. He kisses you deeply, and you lose all feeling in your legs. “I could do this all day.”

You raise a brow, a smirk on your lips. “Technically, you can.”

“I could.” He lets out a silvery laugh. “But Seungcheol wouldn’t like that.”

You don’t know who he is, but somehow the name doesn’t seem foreign to you. Sitting up slightly, you cock your head to the side. “Well, tell Seungcheol you have plans and will be busy all day.”

“And what are those plans?” He asks, trailing his fingers along your shorts.

Despite his face being covered in a shroud of light, you know he’s staring at your body, ogling your breasts that were made just for him. Lifting slightly, you help yourself out of your shorts, revealing your bare center, and part your legs slightly, just for his view.

“Tell him you will be busy eating out your fiancé,” you half-joke, placing your foot on his shoulder.

He guffaws as he lays his head on your foot, massaging it. You don’t know why the words ‘fiancé’ came out of your mouth. You don’t even know who you are in bed with. It like deja vu, and you can’t explain it, but it feels right. This is where you are supposed to be.

“I don’t think I can tell him that, baby,” he breathes in between laughs. “I’ll think of something.”

His free hand spreads your legs apart further, dipping his fingers into your wet heat. You hiss at the contact, every nerve in your body on alert.

“You're soaked, baby,” he coos, his thumb rubbing against your clit. “Maybe I’ll tell Seungcheol there was a leak that needs fixing.”

You're buzzing, unfocused, enthralled with the pleasure he is giving you. “Mmhmm, sure.”

The stranger shuffles, spreading your legs wider as he lowers himself to your center. His tongue takes a long swipe without warning, leaving you clutching your sheets. He moans and grunts in your pussy, tasting and sucking you as you squirm in his hands, the haze you are in multiplying by the second. Lip smacking, slurping, and lewd moans fill the room, lifting you further on cloud nine.

“Fuck, I—” you sound pathetic, but the incessant need to cum in his mouth is greater. You try to pull yourself together, but the pleasure is too great, and you succumb to him completely. Tugging his hair, you ride the wave of his tongue, chasing your release until it washes over you suddenly, leaving you with a vision of white and shaky breath.

“I got you, baby,” he says smoothly. “Give me all of it.”

You let out a guttural moan that ripples through you, gushing in his mouth unabashedly. He doesn’t let up, licking you until there is nothing left, leaving a kiss on your pulsing clit that makes you shudder. You dissolve into the blanket, slowly coming down from your high. Lying there with half-sleepy eyes and a smile on your face, the sunlight shifting as it rises in the sky. You turn your head as your lover lifts his face, the sunlight no longer protecting him, revealing him at least.

“I love you.”

You jolt upright, your heart beating heavily, your vision blurry, beads of sweat forming on your forehead. He disappears, and you’re no longer in the dreamy haze of light; instead, the softness shifts cruelly into a large room of unnatural darkness. Your alarm clock is blaring on the walls, the constant chirping grating on your nerves.

“Maxima, I’m awake,” you croak to the virtual assistant.

It takes a moment for your vision to fully come back, replaying what just happened in your bed. You dismiss it as a dream, but it feels so real, like an unlocked memory calling to you. You glance down at your crotch, noticing the obvious wetness between your legs. Letting out a loud groan, you scoot to the edge of the bed, your head in your hands, trying to make sense of it all.

Seokmin.

He was the man of your dreams. You were in love, you were happy, and seemingly engaged. Your parents never mentioned you to him, and maybe it is all just a dream, but you still remember how your body reacted when you were near him, as if he were a familiar instead of a stranger. Or maybe it is all in your head—a fantasy constructed by a lonely brain.

But something tells you there is more to the story, and if you want your mind to rest, you will need answers.

Aug 02 2061. 

That was the day Seokmin’s life changed forever.

He remembers the day like it was yesterday. You two watched the sun rise together, made love, and he watched you fall asleep before he left for the day. He did not, in fact, tell Seungcheol you had a leak that needed fixing, but Seokmin promised he would spend the next day with you. He had it all worked out with Seungcheol, and he was so excited to come home to you that night, to tell you the good news and plan the day together, or do nothing at all. It didn’t matter as long as he was with you.

But when you didn’t come home, and the minutes turned into hours, he knew something was wrong. Seokmin checked your location and noticed it was headed towards the opposite end of the city. He rushed out of the apartment like a bat out of hell, following your signal until it came to an abrupt stop at Neo City Memorial. Seokmin pushed on the gas pedal as hard as he could, running every traffic light and evading law enforcement to get to you. Every fear he had came true that night—you were hurt almost beyond repair, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

Seokmin shakes his head slowly, taking himself out of that day and back to reality, in an apartment where the sun no longer shines, barren of the life and love you brought into it. His phone buzzes again, and he sighs, grabbing the phone and swiping the screen up. His colleague and friend, Wonwoo, has been helping him with his investigation, digging into records that are behind red tape and out of his reach. A large file was sent to Seokmin’s email, encrypted with a password that only he knows.

Vulpes.

Entering his password, he connects his phone to a projector as the files load, filled with contacts of people who were at the club the night you were hurt. Scrolling through the list, he recognizes some of the names: bigwigs, politicians, and gang leaders who contribute to the corruption of Neo City. Nothing out of the ordinary. His attention turns to the file that holds the video footage, the icon blinking in sequences of threes. Tapping on his screen, he sees the video display on his wall, the frame still focused on a back entrance. 

“Let’s do this,” Seokmin sighs before pressing play. 

The video is audioless, with heavy rain pouring from the sky, slightly obscuring the street camera's lens. Seokmin watches intently, his fingers drumming on his leg in anticipation, not wanting to miss anything amiss. Growing impatient, he fast-forwards the video, the minutes dragging on with little to no movement to the back entrance. Did Wonwoo make a mistake? Seokmin thinks to himself. Maybe this is the wrong vid—

At 2:03 am, the back entrance door swings open, with two large men carrying what appears to be a woman, who is twisting and turning wildly, trying to get loose. A light flashed on the figure, briefly but clearly enough, which gave Seokmin pause. The blue dress, one he has seen too many times, is on display, and a chill shoots up his spine. Rewinding slowly, he stops at the frame, his chest tightening at the frozen image before him.

It’s you.

Seokmin stares for far too long, almost unable to believe what he is seeing. You were being carried out and manhandled like you didn’t matter, as if there wasn’t anyone out there who loved you and wouldn’t care if you disappeared. His blood boils with anger as he hastily taps the screen to let the video continue. One of the guards made the mistake of letting go of one of your legs, and you used it to your advantage, kicking him in the chest. He fell back, losing his step and falling ass-first onto the wet pavement. The other guard had your arms pinned behind your back, and as hard as you wrangled, you couldn’t get out of his lock. Even without audio, Seokmin knows you were giving them a good verbal lashing, a look of rage on your delicate face that Seokmin has never seen.

“Atta’ girl,” Seokmin says out loud. At least you still fought back.

Seokmin’s smile vanishes quickly when the fallen guard rose from the ground, stumbling towards you furiously. His fist connected with your left cheek, stunning you into shock. Blow after blow, the man assaulted you, hitting every exposed area he could. Seokmin watched your body go limp, the glee in the guard’s eyes embedded in his head. The guard holding you said something to your assaulter, who stopped his onslaught with a look of satisfaction on his face. Seokmin watches on, his stomach in knots, the anger burning deeper in his gut. These men will never see the light of fucking day again.

You're dragged to a waiting vehicle, set aside the passenger door like some sort of rag doll, your chest rising and falling slowly, your face swollen and bloodied. A figure stepped out of the back entrance, the light catching him, and Seokmin recognized him: Cado. Seokmin always sensed he didn’t like him much, and it’s not lost on him how Cado looked like you with carnality in his eyes. Cado knew better than to try anything in front of him, though.

Cado hustled over to the car, raising his hands angrily and slapping the backs of the heads of the guards. Opening the back door, he motioned for your assaulter to put you in the car. As he grabbed your arms, it is as if you were brought to life, and as an act of defiance, you spat in his face. The light goes out suddenly, just for a few seconds, but when it comes back on, you are on the wet ground, rain pouring on your face, with blood pooling from your head. Cado was enraged, picking you up and shoving you unceremoniously in the car, shouting and pointing in the north direction. Both guards entered the car, driving off suddenly, and Cado re-enters the club, the door shutting swiftly behind him.

The video stops playing, and Seokmin stands there, rooted in place and stewing in rage. He couldn’t be there to protect you, and he had to watch you experience the worst day of your life, and indirectly his too. You were supposed to be married now and living happy lives, but instead, you are apart, and you don’t remember a any of it.

Swiping to a different screen, he presses Wonwoo’s contact, the phone ringing once before he answers.

“You saw the video?”

“No shit,” Seokmin scoffs. “I want those guards found—”

“I’m already ahead of you, Seokmin,” Wonwoo answers. “I’m going to send you this address for the one who did the most damage.”

“Do that, and tell Seungcheol to meet me there,” Seokmin instructs. “Things will get extremely messy.”

“Well. You weren’t exaggerating about the mess.”

Seungcheol walks into the blood-splattered small apartment, slapping on a pair of black gloves made of matte obsidian and seamless synthetic polymer that clings like a second skin. Built with tech that alters fingerprint texture, it makes the person who uses it basically untraceable.

“I take it they are still alive?” Seungcheol surmises, stepping over broken glass.

“Barely,” Seokmin mumbles. Kneeling, he turns the head of one of the guards, the assaulter, Scion, lifting a finger under his nose.

As soon as Seokmin retrieved the address from Wonwoo, he was there in no time. He could’ve waited for Seungcheol to do things the ‘right way’, but all Seokmin could see was you being beaten and thrown around. He could have granted them mercy, but why should he? They gave you less than that, and now you’re both paying the price.

Seokmin hears shuffling behind him, and he turns, watching Seungcheol drag the other guard, Brucus, into the bathroom. He quickly learned their life story from the information Wonwoo sent over. Brucus’s family all died in the war in the neighboring desert, Dismiscus, a decade ago, and Scion comes from a family of lowlifes who are either dead, in jail, or walking the streets.

Basically, nobody would miss them when Seokmin wipes them off the face of the planet.

The bathroom door opens, and Seunghcheol comes out, his nose crinkling at the protruding smell that is starting to fill the space. “I’m pretty sure that guy took his last breath in the tub,” Seungcheol comments, surveying the living room. “I didn’t see any stab wounds or gunshots. What did you use?”

Seokmin holds up his left hand, showing off a glove made of synthetic chromium. “My goal was to make sure he stopped breathing.”

“Goal met,” Seungcheol quips.

Seokmin turns his attention back to Scion, tapping his cheek with two slaps. “Wake up.”

Scion doesn’t stir, his chest rising and falling as if he is in a deep coma. Without a second thought, Seokmin lowers a fist to his ribs, hearing a bone-shattering crack that satisfies him. Scion’s eyes almost bulge out of his sockets, followed by a piercing howl that is quickly covered by Seokmin’s fist.

“This pain is nothing compared to what you gave her,” Seokmin grits his teeth. “Tighten the fuck up.” Crimson slowly coats Scion’s lips. Seokmin stands straight, observing the weak man in this state. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and you are going to tell me everything I need to know.”

Scion slowly raises his head, meeting your gaze for the first time. “I’ve…seen…you…club.” His mouth twitches, a slight smirk on his lips. “You come to see our Vixen.”

Seokmin clenches his jaw, anger stirring in his stomach and hardening from within. He referred to you by your stage name, a nickname Seokmin gave you, and it makes him want to wring Scion's neck. Seungcheol appears to his left, adjusting his gloves. “So you know why he’s here then.”

Letting out a weak scoff, he attempts to sit up but winces, sliding further down the carpet. “Let’s…not play games.”

Seokmin couldn’t agree more. “Aug 02 2061,” he began. “Why was she being carried out of the club?”

Scion attempts to sit up again, lifting off the ground until he is comfortable. He doesn’t answer, instead pulling a cigarette from his front pocket and slipping it into his mouth.

“You got a light?”

Seokmin and Seungcheol exchange annoyed looks, shaking their heads in unison. Seungcheol digs into his pocket, pulls out a lighter, and flicks the switch to ignite the flame. Seokmin is in his right mind to take that cigarette and shove it down his throat while it’s still lit.

Scion looks at you carefully, inhales deeply, and lets out a wet cough. “It was on the boss’s orders.”

Seokmin stares, his jaw ticking in annoyance. “Cado?”

He nods, taking another puff. “That’s the one.” Wiping his nose with his sleeve, he closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall. “She saw something she wasn’t supposed to see.”

That catches Seokmin’s attention. “What wasn’t she supposed to see?”

A slow, evil grin is on his lips, followed by a chuckle. “Business. Stuff way above my pay grade.”

“Care to elaborate on that?” Seokmin grits his teeth.

Scion doesn’t answer, instead burning out the cigarette in his hand. Seokmin takes a good look at him, watching the color slowly drain from his face. A long white scar trails from his sea-green, baggy eye to the corner of his mouth, and he looked rugged, rough around the edges, with tattoos and more scars riddling his arms. It would scare the average person walking down the street, but one thing Seokmin has learned in life is that it doesn’t matter how tough you look if you can’t back it up.

“You still want to protect your boss in death? That’s almost admirable.” Seokmin reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a 9 mm silencer. Taking a deep breath, he points the gun at his head, his index finger steady on the trigger. “I suggest you think long and hard about your answer.”

Flashes of your face and your smile flood his mind. The woman he knows, the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with, was taken away from him cruelly. He will work day and night to get you back, and if a few brains have to be splattered on some walls, so be it.

“I’m not telling you shit—”

The gun goes off before Scion could finish his sentence, blood splattering on his face. Seokmin is numb, not bothered by the violence he had to inflict. He could do it ten times over and still wouldn’t satisfy him.

“Go, Seok,” Seungcheol commands, taking the weapon out of his hands. “I’ll clean up here.”

Seokmin nods, leaving without saying a word. He wasn’t concerned about the noise, since the apartment is in a shitty part of the city and everyone minds their own business. The rain starts to fall heavily from the sky, washing the blood off his face and his leather jacket. Seokmin stands there for a moment, soaking it all in, letting the memories of you dancing in the rain fill his mind. You were always carefree, a pretty bird in a city of terror, and he would give anything to have that back.

Climbing onto his motorcycle, he loads “I Feel Love” into his headphones and roars out of sight, the venom of vengeance consuming him whole.

You can’t stop thinking about Seokmin.

He encompasses every corner of your mind, the montage of your moment together fresh in your head. You seemed to be a couple in love, a familiarity that you somehow feel in your heart, and it bothers you. You don’t know who Seokmin is; you met him for the first time last week at the club. Why does it feel like you were meant to know him?

You gaze at your bare ring finger, rubbing it with your index finger as you're lost in thought. For the past few days, it has felt weird not having a ring there, and if you stare long enough, you imagine seeing an imprint of something that might have been there at one point. You don’t know.

“Is everything alright?”

Slowly coming out of your reverie, you glance at your mother, whose eyes mirror yours in color. “I’m fine,” you clear your throat, shaking your head. “Just a bit tired.”

You stab your fork lazily into your seared lemon trout, taking a small bite to appease your mother. You aren’t sure what your relationship was like during the years you were gone, but before then, she was barely a parent. You were raised by the various nannies that were employed in your home; your mother spent her time playing the perfect wife, and your father was hardly around. You were merely an afterthought unless there was an event that required the whole family to be together. Chin up and smile wide, your mother would dutifully remind you. You don’t want to embarrass your father or the company. Your name carries weight in Neo City, and your parents will protect it by all means, even making you a pawn whether you like it or not.

“Are you still working at that club?” Your mother grimaces. “I don’t know why you bother setting foot in that soiled establishment.”

“Because I like to sing, Mom, and being there lets me do that,” you respond, feeling slightly irritated. You glance at your father, who watches you carefully, his silence louder than anything your mother could say. Crossing your arms, you feel the erratic thump of your heart. “I know you guys are worried about me, but aside from a weird dream, I’m fine—”

“What dream?”

Your father’s voice is soft yet commanding, catching you off guard. He hasn’t talked much since you arrived, barely shown any interest in the daughter walking around with partial amnesia.

“It’s nothing really, Dad,” you dismiss it, shaking your head. “I doubt it means anything.”

“Tell me.”

Your eyes drift from your father to your plate, and you let out a quiet breath. Your finger taps on your leg, unease settling on your chest. If you say it out loud, it becomes real, this dream, that moment with Seokmin. You don’t know what to make of it, and it scares you, experiencing a level of intimacy with a stranger you only met once. But knowing your parents, they will not let it go, and you might as well rip the Band-Aid off now.

“I had a dream about someone who came into the club,” you start, running your fingers through your hair. “I don’t think I know him, but in the dream, it felt like I did. Like maybe I knew him before.”

“Oh?” Your mother’s eyes light up as she wipes her mouth with a napkin. “And you’re sure you don’t know him?”

“Yeah,” you shake your head. “This guy, Seokmin, I have never met him before—”

“Wait,” your father cuts in, raising his hand. “What did you say his name was again?”

‘Seokmin,” you confirm. Grabbing your glass of white wine, you take a sip, noticing his brow furrow with annoyance. “Do you know him, Dad?”

‘What?” Your dad slurs before shaking his head. “No, I don’t know him. I am just concerned about you having dreams about a stranger.” He smiles reassuringly, though it doesn’t match his eyes. “You are still taking your medication, right?”

You throw him an incredulous look and scoff. “Yes, I’m taking my medication!” you spit, rising from your seat. “How could you think that?”

“Well, hold on,” your mother leaps out of her seat, raising her hands. “Your father and I just want what’s best for you.” Her voice cracks at the end, tears welling in her eyes. “We almost lost you.”

You stare at your mother and father, the burning ember of anger brewing in your stomach slowly cooling off. There is something indescribable in your father’s eyes that leaves you uneasy, an ice-cold shiver spreading down your spine.

“It was just a dream,” your mother says. “I wouldn’t worry about it, okay?”

“Your mother is right,” your father agrees. “Sit down and finish dinner.”

It wasn’t a suggestion, but you don’t have any more will to fight with your family tonight. You do as you're told, slowly putting on your poker face as you finish your meal in silence. But something your gut tells you is more than just a dream, and even more sinister, your father might know something about it.

Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since Seokmin has seen you, and the distance physically aches. Not that he hasn’t wanted to, but he’s been busy, cracking heads and taking names—so to speak.

He’s gone through the list of names that were there the night you were hurt, and showed up to a few of those places, gathering all of the information he could get. Some gave it to him willingly; others were harder to convince. It didn’t matter how he got it done, as long as he got what he was looking for. Some survived to see another day; others weren’t so lucky.

Seokmin stares at his hands in the bathroom, his hands covered with dirt and dried-up blood, bruised knuckles that are turning into a nasty shade of purple. Turning on the warm water, he washes the blood away with a fluxus genorum soap he acquired from the Neo City black market, which specializes in rapidly healing most injuries. It was created by a scientist who wanted to cure humanity of their ailments, but the government had other plans. It’s said that the scientist refused, and the scientist suddenly went missing, presumed to be killed by the others of your very own Senator. Yet somehow, his creation can be accessed by certain means. Seokmin always found that interesting.

He unbuttons his shirt, revealing fading bruises he didn’t care to heal. In a way, Seokmin is addicted to the pain. It’s one of the few things that’s real to him; the feeling of a fist trying to crush his abdomen or a pole that swings wildly on his arm. It’s an adrenaline high that he is not trying to be cured from. It keeps him focused and guarded on his investigation to reveal the truth and set you free.

And bring you back to him.

Seokmin strips off the rest of his clothes, washes up quickly, and changes into jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt, then pairs them with his leather motorcycle jacket. He puts on the cologne you like, hoping it will stir your memory in some way. He reminisces about the first time you brought the bottle home and sprayed it on him without warning.

“Whoa there, baby. What did you put on me?”

“Your good luck charm,” you said cheekily, holding up a small yellow bottle.

“My good luck charm is standing in front of me,” Seokmin flirted, pulling you by your waist.

“Well, yes,” you agreed, pressing the bottle onto his chest. “But this will give you an extra boost. It smells good.”

Seokmin squinted, trying to detect any deceit. You loved to prank him, and even though he knew what you were doing before it happened, he let you do it anyway. Seeing the joy in your eyes, the warm laugh that bubbled from your throat gave him endorphins no one else could replicate.

"This isn’t some sort of joke, is it?” Seokmin murmured, his hand drifting lower to squeeze your derriere.

“Mm mm,” you shook your head. “No joke, baby. I bought this with you in mind, and I hope it makes you think of me.”

“I think of you all the time,” Seokmin chuckled, leaning in. “It doesn’t take much.”

“Good, my sunflower,” you nodded proudly. You spray his neck lightly, rubbing in the cologne with your fingers. “Now take me to bed.”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Seokmin jolts himself back to the present, clutching the gun hidden in the back of his waistband. He wasn’t expecting anyone over, and aside from Seungcheol and Wonwoo, no one knows where he lives. He stalks towards the door, his heart racing, wondering if all of the bloodshed is catching up to him. Slowly looking into the peephole, he lets out a small breath of relief, followed by an annoyed scoff.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Seokmin unlocks the door, swinging it widely, facing the unwanted visitor.

“Silas.”

“Seokmin.”

The older man lets himself in, brushing his shoulder against Seokmin as a silent test to see if Seokmin will bite. He knows this type of man, the kind who gets a rise out of pushing buttons; they snap, and then the victim becomes the villain, fitting their narrative. Seokmin was almost always one step ahead of him, and he’s sure it's one of the many reasons he hates him.

“Yes, come in.’ he says under his breath, shutting the door.

“Why are you bothering her at the club?” Silas gets right to the point.

Seokmin gives him a slow, unimpressed once-over. “Because she’s my fiancée,” he answers bluntly. “That’s never going to change, no matter how you try to spin it.”

Silas snorts, surveying the space. “I think you need to get your head checked, boy. My daughter doesn’t and will not have anything to do with you.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Seokmin scoffs, holding eye contact. “Did you come all this way to puff out your chest? Or are you going to finally be the father she needs?”

Silas’s eyes narrow into menacing slits as he steps toward him, his voice a low, dangerous growl. “You don’t know shit about what she needs.”

Seokmin lets out a short, dry laugh, feeling it deep in his gut. “Old man, I know way more than you think.” Stepping around him, he opens the door. “If that’s all you have to say.”

Silas does not invoke any fear in Seokmin’s heart. It doesn’t matter how many connections your father has; Seokmin will still find a way to take them down, and he’s doing alright so far.

Silas sneers, turning on his heel and storming down the hall. “You will regret this!” He barks over his shoulder.

“No, I won’t,” Seokmin yells back, slamming the door behind him.

The sound echoes through his apartment, and Seokmin lets out a long, drawn breath, relieving the tension in his abdomen. A visit from Silas is never a good thing, but it doesn’t deter him—it pushes him to dig even deeper to uncover the lies just beneath the surface. How did he know Seokmin was coming to the club? Aside from the obvious, why is Silas bothered by it?

A myriad of questions swirl in his head, his suspicions growing louder. Pulling out his phone, he presses the dial button and is immediately met with a voicemail. 

“Wonwoo. Look into Silas—yes, that Silas. I have a feeling this is bigger than we thought.”

I'm gonna tell you about love Let's forget your life Forget your problems Administration, bills and loads Come with me

You’re one with the rhythm, twirling in a sensual circle as you swing the mic in the air. There is a large attendance tonight, due to a convention in Neo City that brings nerds from all over the planet. You changed up your makeup at the last minute, going for a more divine look that brings out your eyes. Cado gave you shit for it, but you know what you’re doing, and it’s working; once again, everyone is at your mercy, their mouths partly open as you seduce the crowd with your voice.

Connect to the sky Future lovers ride their ambitions high, would you like to try? Let me be your guide, cut inside your pride Future lovers hide love inside their eyes

The red light sparkles on your dress, a tight, short number that accentuates your legs, paired with heels that are an accessory in their own right. Scanning the room, you let the vibrant energy take over, falling into a trance while you perform. Being on stage is truly your happy place, and there isn’t anywhere else you’d want to be.

As you sing, you’re drawn to a pair of warm brown eyes you could get lost in, a slow smile on his lips as he watches your every move. Excitement tingles through your body, and you keep your composure as you strut over to the man of your dreams.

Love controlled by time Future lovers shine for eternity in a world that's free Put away your past, love will never last If you're holding on to a dream that's gone I'm gonna tell you about love Would you like to try?

The final note lingers in the air, a shimmering vibration that seems to hold the entire room in an intoxicating suspension. As the crowd roars in applause, you wink at him, the shimmer of your makeup catching the strobe lights before you gracefully leave the stage.

Your heart is racing, but it’s not just because of the performance. Instead of heading to your dressing room, you detour to the floor, searching for him among all the bodies in colorful attire. You find your dream guy at the bar, ordering a drink with Chan. Despite the butterflies invading your stomach, you take a seat next to him.

“Hey, stranger,” you greet him with your signature low, sultry voice. “Thought I’d never see you again.”

“You did?” Seokmin responds, a gentle grin on his lips. “That just made my night.”

“I’m glad I could be of service.” You wink again. Feeling confident, you grab his hand, slide off your stool, and pull him along. “Walk with me?”

His hands feel the same as they did in your dream; warm, inviting, and safe. You notice the way his eyes dance as you lead him outside to your hideaway spot near the front entrance. You’re fully aware you’re acting recklessly, and you don’t really know Seokmin. For all you know, he could be a mass murderer. But despite all that, something in the back of your mind tells you it’s okay.

You stop in a tucked-away spot in the dimly lit alley, two patio chairs in front of an abandoned building. Streaks of magenta and cyan from the neon signs spread across the brick walls, alternating sides as the light adjusts according to its programming. No one else comes here, and you come here to think whenever the noise gets too loud. It’s your own little sanctuary, a small bit of peace that’s of your own making.

Seokmin digs into his jacket pocket, pulling out a pack of menthols and opening the carton toward you.

“Want one?”

You smile, taking one and slipping it between your lips. He lights it, his eyes not leaving yours, sending a jolt of sparks throughout your body.

“The man of my dreams,” you murmur as you exhale.

“Am I?” His eyes shift to something softer and unspoken, and you feel heat creep up on your neck.

“Figuratively speaking, of course,” you lie, inhaling deeply.

You exhale the smoke with a perfect ‘O’, watching it rise in the night air until it dissipates. You feel his eyes burning on you, and you don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to explain that you feel drawn to him, and it feels like you were meant to know him. You haven’t had another dream since then, and yet, Seokmin has been in the back of your mind with every thought. You tried shaking it away, meditating away, even sexing it away with someone you met at a bar that you knew you would never see again. Nothing has worked, and you are starting to feel you are truly fucked.

“So what do you do, Seokmin?” you ask, discarding the ash from the stick.

“I’m a private investigator,” he answers, taking a puff of his cigarette. “Been doing it for a while.”

“Yeah?” You say, amused. “So you probably have seen a lot of crazy things.”

“Something like that.”

A sly grin curves on his lips, making him more attractive. “I bet you handle yourself well.”

“I… do my best,” he alludes. “I’m still breathing.”

“You look good and alive to me,” you laugh, your nerves suddenly getting to you. Turning to the side, you slap your hand lightly on your head. This has never been you. You don’t tumble over your words or get tongue-tied over anything, especially men. And yet, Seokmin has you all over the place, stumbling over everything you thought you knew.

“So… what do you do when you’re not hypnotizing clubs or terrorizing your boss?”

You let out an embarrassing snicker, caught off guard by his statement. “What makes you think I terrorize my boss?”

Seokmin throws you a look, a twinkle in his eye as he raises a brow. “You perform like that on stage, and you tell me you aren’t driving your boss nuts?”

You almost choke on your cigarette, laughing. The nerves leave you as easy as they came. “Is it terrorizing or just knowing that I’m right?”

He shrugs with a smirk on his lips. “Touche.”

You shake your head playfully, putting out half of your cigarette. You aren’t really a smoker, but he offered, and you didn’t want to turn him down. Gazing at the sky, the two moons of the planet are full, in a shade of red that appears only once every millennium. How ironic that you are sharing it with the man of your dreams.

“I would ask if you come here often, but I think we know the answer to that,” you say, sauntering closer to him. “I never forget a face—brain injury aside.”

Seokmin bites his bottom lip, turning away slightly to hide a grin.

“It’s okay to laugh,” you encourage him. “My accident didn’t deprive me of my sense of humor, thank gods.”

He lets out a guffaw, his voice echoing off the walls of the alley. In the darkness, you see the light in his eyes, and it melts you. He's even more handsome than he was the first day you saw him.

“You… are funny,” Seokmin manages to say in between breaths. “Are you sure you don’t want to be a comedian?”

“Nah.” You scrunch your nose playfully. “I’d get bored.”

The time on the nearest building dings midnight, signaling your break being over. You don’t want to leave; you want to stay in this place and get to know him, figure out what makes him tick and why you can’t get him out of your head. Silence falls between you two, loud thoughts running through your mind, unsure of what to say next.

“So will you be coming back—”

“—Do you want to go out with me sometime?”

You stare at each other, the silence thick and charged with the kind of electricity that would raise your hair in the wind, followed by a lightning strike. A slow, playful smile curves on your lips as you lean in, the scent of his vanilla-and-spice cologne swirling around you, mixed with the sharp tang of menthols.

“You wanna go out with me?” you tease him. “How do you know I’m not a crazy person who takes their victims into dark alleys?”

Seokmin’s laugh is silvery, his foot itching closer to you, the warmth of his presence vibrating off you. “You’re a creative woman. I’m sure you could do better than that.”

You cock your head back in laughter, almost at a loss for words. “Touche.” Looking back towards the club, you turn to him again. “Walk me back?”

Seokmin holds out his arm to you, and you slip into it easily, like a fitted glove. The walk back is mostly quiet, aside from exchanging numbers and agreeing to see each other in two days. The neon lights dance on your skin, and the club's impending noise grows louder with each step. It’s like you're in your own bubble, existing with him with ease, feeling a sort of peace you didn’t know you needed.

When you reach the entrance, the bubble bursts as Cado leans against the doorframe, arms folded with irritation on his face. His eyes land on you two, his dark pupils narrowing into predatory splits.

“You’re late for your second set, Vixen,” Cado says with a smile that doesn’t match his eyes. “Let’s get you inside, gorgeous.”

He holds out his hand, but his gaze is on Seokmin, his poker face faltering with each second. You glance at Seokmin, who meets the gaze with an unimpressed stare, stepping back slightly to give you space.

“I’ll see you Friday, sunflower.”

You watch him walk away, disappearing into the night. Giddiness takes over; you wish you could leap forward two days. You feel Cado’s hands grip your upper arm, a tad too much pressure, making you wince. You’re ushered back inside, the thumping bass, the thick smoke, and expensive perfume irritating your nose.

“You don’t have to guide me to my dressing room,” you bite. “I’m not a child.”

“If only you knew the concept of time is money,” Cado snaps. “You have five minutes.”

You step into the dim light of your dressing room, the mirror reflecting your image in all of its glory. You quickly tousle your hair, adjust your dress and makeup, and touch your lips with a shade of red that would make the devil jealous. You were done in two minutes instead of five, rolling your eyes at Cado’s attitude earlier.

“I don’t know what his issue is,” you mutter to yourself. “I’m already done.”

Swinging the door open, you make your way to the stage, passing by the boss’s door, which is left slightly ajar.

“Yeah, she’s in the dressing room now… yes, I will keep an eye on her.”

You come to a halt, a chill coming down your spine. You may have lost part of your memory, but you aren’t naive—he is talking about you.

“Yeah… yeah… He was here again.”

Your heart starts to race, everything suddenly feeling heightened as you continue the conversation. Why is Cado so invested in you and who you keep your company with?

“Are you alright?”

You turn around suddenly, facing Chan, who is standing in the hallway, holding boxes of liquor, presumably to stock the bar. You blink, your ears burning from embarrassment and being caught red-handed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you croak, clearing your throat. “I just have a slight headache, that’s all.”

“Oh, if you want, I can give you coltis powder later; that’ll clear it up.”

You give him a weak smile. “I would appreciate it, Chan.”

He nods and walks around you, going back to the bar. You pinch your nose, shaking your head as you let out a loud sigh. Fuck, that was close. Turning around, you see Cado’s door is now closed, ending any chance you had to hear more of the conversation. Disappointment starts to seep in like a leak, but you push it aside, realizing your five minutes are up and it’s time to get on stage. You put on your best poker face, going on stage to applause and cheers, your hands resting on the microphone as you begin your next set.

“Who’s ready for more?”

The crowd cheers.

Turning to your right, you meet the eyes of Cado, who watches you intently with an all-knowing look you can’t understand. You wink at him and begin your set, seemingly showing everyone all is right in the world.

But that’s the opposite of the truth, and it’s far from over.

Part 2 will be posted soon! Let me know what you think in the comments or reblogs <3

OFFLINE

5:00 AM Seoul was still asleep when you walked into Butter & Bloom. You weren't a morning person at all, but the permanent shift you got forced you to arrive at work earlier than intended. If it were up to you, you'd be going to work at nine in the morning. The only good thing about your schedule? You get to clock out at two o'clock in the afternoon. After that, you're free from flour, sugar, and coffee.

By the time you finished prepping the pastries that will be served throughout the day, you realized it was 20 minutes before opening. However, none of your co-workers has arrived yet. You decided it was best to sweep the floor of the cafe area. A few minutes into sweeping the floor, Jun, the owner, arrived.

"Good morning, Y/N!" Jun smiled. "I'm sorry for being late."

"Oh, it's okay," You waved off. "And, uh, good morning to you, too."

You continued sweeping the floor as Jun counted the till and did the rest of his opening procedures.

Being a pastry chef has been such a dream of yours, and you wouldn't trade it for the world. While you also had the knowledge and skills of world-class coffee-making and high-end cooking, your passion was baking. You even worked hard to get into a summer exchange program in France just to learn more about the art of baking.

"What's our menu for our pastries today?" Jun asked, wiping down the counter.

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Jun, it's the same thing every day."

"Yeah, but I like how you say it," Jun said cheekily with his signature grin. "It's very French of you."

You glanced out the window and sighed when you saw a long line already forming outside the cafe. You looked at Jun and said, "Guess it's time for us to get ready. Isn't Youmi supposed to be here now?"

6:00 AM Youmi arrived at exactly six o'clock, which Jun considered late. After all, she was supposed to be there before six. Quickly setting her things in her locker and putting her apron on, she quickly headed to the bar station and began doing the coffee orders. Jun was giving his best customer-service smile while taking orders. You were in the pastry area packing pastry orders. The pastry you sold was fancy, which meant that the prices were extremely high as well.

Ispahan Croissant - ₩9,800 Lemon Meringue Tart - ₩11,500 Chocolate & Hazelnut Paris-Brest - ₩12,800 Strawberry Mille-Feuille - ₩13,500 Vanilla Bean Saint-Honoré - ₩15,800

Still, it didn't stop the customers from buying them. In fact, one of the customers had left Butter & Bloom a short but truthful review on Google. It read: "Reasonable coffee prices. Very expensive pastries, but worth buying. All of them are impeccable, but the Ispahan Croissant remains a crowd favorite."

By seven-thirty in the morning, the Ispahan Croissant had sold out. It always did.

"How many Ispahans did you make today?" Jun asked at the counter, counting the customer's change before handing it to them.

"I made thirty."

Jun nodded, glanced at you, and gave you a playful grin. "Tomorrow, make forty."

"Jun, do you know how long it takes to prepare a batch of those?!" You snapped, but Jun could only chuckle.

"Worth asking!" Jun said cheerfully before paying attention to the next customer.

-

8:27 AM Two streets over, Butter & Bloom, Lee Seokmin had just hit the snooze button for the third time. Ten minutes later, he finally accepted defeat.

He dragged himself out of bed, hair sticking out in every possible direction, and shuffled toward the kitchen with his eyes still half closed. The apartment was quiet aside from the low hum of his brand-new dual inverter AC.

"Morning," he muttered to no one in particular. He lightly scratched his arm as he walked around his big apartment. Clearly, working at SVT Studio has paid off.

He opened the fridge. Milk. One egg. Butter. A lonely slice of pizza—from two days ago when Seungkwan came over.

He sighed. "I should really go grocery shopping." He closed the fridge.

'Future Seokmin's problem.' He thought.

Instead, he settled for toast (the last piece of bread, by the way) and coffee before carrying both to his desk. Unlike most people, his commute lasted exactly seven seconds.

He sat down, opened his impressive desktop setup, and was immediately greeted by forty-three unread Slack messages.

"Jesus..."

Maybe today was going to be stressful after all.

9:00 AM His camera stayed off during the morning alignment meeting. Mostly because he looked terrible, and he didn't feel like fake smiling today.

"Morning, everyone." He quickly muted his mic right after.

"Good morning, Seokmin!"

His creative director shared the latest client brief. A new cafe branding project. Mood board revisions. Typography adjustments. Social media assets.

Seokmin glanced at his second monitor to make sure it was recording the meeting and taking notes so he could read through them later. This was his favorite part about working from home. He had an AI Assistant that could help him remember stuff, especially important ones.

Designing has always been easy for him. It was right up in his alley, after all. Talking to people, however, was not. He found it rather difficult.

10:12 AM His phone buzzed. It was a text from his best friend, Seungkwan.

By 10:15, he got a text from his mom.

He laughed despite himself.

12:15 PM The restaurant nearby was crowded, as usual. Luckily for him, Seungkwan was already there, seated by the window. He tapped on the glass and waved at Seungkwan, only for him to receive a glare and a muffled "get inside!".

He entered the restaurant and sat across from Seungkwan.

"You're late."

"Only by fifteen minutes, Kwannie. Don't be ridiculous. I have a job, remember?" Seokmin chuckled. "Besides, not all of us receive allowance from our rich parents. You're literally the only person I know who doesn't work because your family's generational wealth can sustain your lifestyle."

"I'm the only person you know, period." Seungkwan snapped back. "Anyway, I ordered for both of us already."

"Are you hanging out at my apartment after this?" Seokmin asked.

Seungkwan nodded. "Yeah, I'm bored at mine. Besides, I like your new living room setup."

"The surround-sound speakers you suggested are actually pretty good," Seokmin said as he drank some water.

"I told you so," Seungkwan gloated. "Hey, I was thinking..."

"Oh no."

"Shut up." Seungkwan rolled his eyes. "Why don't you create a dating app profile? I mean, you're a catch! You're handsome, you have a stable job, you're funny, your apartment is neat and tidy, you love your parents, and you're earning a fuck ton at SVT Studio—a difficult company to get into, by the way."

Their food arrived. They both thanked the server and began to dig in.

"I'm... way too shy," Seokmin said, cutting into his pork cutlet.

"You have me! I can help you get a girlfriend. Girls love me."

"Okay, so, you go on a date." Seokmin shrugged.

"What I mean is, I can vouch for you! Girls trust me. Besides, I can always help you create your profile. You should check out Diamond. It's the hottest dating app right now." Seungkwan statedas he took a big bite of his bulgogi.

Seungkwan changed the topic after that, but it kept Seokmin thinking. What if he just... tried? After all, he's an introverted, 29-year-old who has nothing left to lose. Where else would he meet someone if he rarely goes outside and only works from home?

'Fuck it,' He thought. 'Might as well get out of my comfort zone.'

If it gets Seungkwan and his mom off his back, he's willing to try. Besides, Seungkwan wouldn't fail him, right?

IT'S A MATCH!

The moment your shift ended at 2:07 PM, you untied your apron with a sigh of relief. This was the best part of starting work at six in the morning.

"See you tomorrow, chef!"

"See you!" You called back, waving as Youmi disappeared through the back door.

Jun poked his head out from the kitchen. "Y/N."

"Hm?"

"You forgot your croissant."

You looked down at the paper bag before meeting Jun's impossibly smug grin. "Jun, I literally made those."

"I know," he smiled. "Employee perks."

You laughed, shaking your head as you took it. "Thanks, boss."

"By the way..."

"Yes?"

Jun exited the kitchen, stood in front of you, and folded his arms. "You know, you're really pretty..."

"Um, thanks?" You were weirded out, honestly.

"Can I ask you something?"

"...Sure?"

"How are you still single?" Jun asked with zero hesitation.

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You're smart, you're pretty, you're talented, you literally studied pastry in France—"

"Jun."

"—and somehow you still don't have a boyfriend."

You stared at him. "Are you for real?"

"Maybe," he grinned. "You should try Diamond."

"What is that?"

"It's a new dating app!" Jun said happily. "Everyone's talking about it. Even Youmi has one!"

You shook your head. "Nope."

"You'd be really popular on Diamond, Y/Nie! You should try it out. Maybe you'll finally have a plus one at the company party this year." Jun clapped his hands excitedly.

You stared at your sweet boss. "I'm going home now."

You waved goodbye once more before you exited the bakery. The light afternoon breeze greeted you as soon as you stepped out of Butter & Bloom.

As you walked, you pondered what Jun said. You'd been single for almost two years, entirely by choice. You'd learned that your peace was worth protecting. It wasn't worth dating a man who hated women or couldn't care less about their well-being.

By the time you arrived at your apartment, you had decided there was no harm in creating an account. As you flopped on your bed, you unlocked your phone and searched Diamond on the App Store.

The app icon appeared almost instantly. You stared at the 'download' button for a few seconds. If nothing came of it, you could always delete the app tomorrow. With a sigh, you tapped it anyway.

-

"Okay, I've downloaded it." Seokmin sighed.

"Go create your account, hyung," Seungkwan said. With that, Seokmin reluctantly created an account.

Seokmin stared at his newly created profile. "Do I really have to answer all these questions?"

Seungkwan leaned over his shoulder and nodded. "Yup."

"Why do they need to know what I do on a Sunday?"

"Because people like knowing things."

"...How nosy of them," Seokmin said, but answered anyway. "Why do they need to know so much?"

"Because they're trying to date you."

"Right..."

After another few minutes of tweaking photos and proofreading every answer for what felt like the tenth time, Seokmin's profile was finally complete.

Seungkwan scrolled through it once before nodding in approval.

"Honestly? Not bad."

Seokmin frowned. "That's not reassuring."

"I mean it! I could've picked better pictures, but this feels like... you." Seungkwan trailed off.

"What does that mean?"

"Don't worry about it," Seungkwan said as he handed the phone back. "Alright. If you like someone, swipe right."

"Okay."

"If you're not interested, you swipe left."

"That's it?" Seokmin asked with raised brows.

"That's literally it," Seungkwan said before he reached for the remote of Seokmin's TV.

Seokmin blinked. "Huh."

"What?" Seungkwan asked, not looking at him. He was too busy browsing through Seokmin's Netflix account.

"That's... kind of underwhelming." He confessed.

"You're overthinking it," Seungkwan huffed, leaning back on Seokmin's couch as he finally settled on watching Gone Girl.

"I don't think I am."

"You definitely are." Seung kwan reached over, tapped the screen, and the first profile appeared. A smiling woman stood in front of a beach at sunset.

Seokmin stared at the screen. "Am I supposed to judge her?"

Seungkwan slowly turned to look at him. "...That's the entire app."

"I don't know anything about her." Seokmin reasoned.

Seungkwan sighed and said, "That's what the questions were for! Just... read her profile."

He did.

"It says here that she likes hiking, spicy food, and horror movies," Seokmin read aloud. He frowned. "What if she just picked those because they sounded interesting?"

Seungkwan froze, paused the movie, and blinked. "What?"

"I mean," Seokmin started, "what if she doesn't actually like hiking?"

"Hyung."

"What?"

"You're, like, totally judging her."

"Yeah, but you're more judgmental than I am." Seokmin shrugged. "Besides, I'm just trying to be fair."

Seungkwan sighed dramatically and took the phone from him. "I'll tell you again how this works, but through visuals because you're a visual learner. This," he said, swiping left, "means you're not interested."

Another profile appeared. "And this—" He swiped right. "—means you're interested."

"That's a lot. Like, that's honestly so taxing." Seokmin pouted.

Seungkwan stared at him in disbelief. "It's just swiping."

"But what if I accidentally reject someone really nice?"

"She'll find someone else." Seungkwan shrugged and played the movie again.

Seokmin gasped. "Don't say things like that. What if I accidentally swiped left on my soulmate?"

"Find another soulmate." Seungkwan sighed as he threw his head back.

Seokmin spent the rest of the afternoon getting the hang of Diamond. Left. Right. Left. Right.

Some profiles made him smile. Others made him laugh. A few had him wondering whether people actually expected to find love with a bio that simply read, "Just ask."

By the time midnight rolled around, Seungkwan had already claimed the guest room and fallen asleep. Seokmin, however, was still awake. Curled beneath his blanket with only his bedside lamp on, he absentmindedly swiped through another profile.

Left, Left. Right. Then, he stopped.

"Oh." A refreshing profile filled his screen.

Seokmin read through your profile thoroughly. He smiled to himself when he saw similar interests to his. He didn't really pay much attention to the photos, if he were being honest. His heart fluttered when he read your green flags. His stomach growled when he saw your love language.

"'My love language is feeding people with my pastries and making sure they're happy with it'. Feed me, juseyo." Seokmin mumbled to himself.

He turned to the other side of the bed and continued reading your profile, smiling more with every prompt. "What she does on a Sunday is more fun than mine. I really need to get out more."

Without much thought, he had swiped right and hoped for the best. Fortunately, the best didn't take too long.

💎 It's a Match!

For a second, he blinked. Then, he screamed. "I MATCHED!"

With nothing but excitement flowing through his body, he practically sprinted down the hallway and threw open the guest room door.

"KWANNIE!"

A muffled groan came from beneath the thick blanket. "This better be fucking good."

"Oh, it's good, alright. More than good. I MATCHED!" Seokmin launched himself onto the bed, causing Seungkwan to let out a startled yelp.

"HYUNG! Ow! Why are you jumping on me?!" Seungkwan shoved him away with both hands. Seokmin rolled onto the empty side of the bed, completely unfazed, phone still clutched tightly in his hand.

"I matched." Seokmin stared at the ceiling with a broad grin.

"I heard you, hyung."

"My first one."

"Congratulations, truly."

Seokmin held the phone up in front of his face like it contained the meaning of life. "What do I do now?"

Seungkwan sits up, fully awake now. "You message her."

"Right now?"

"Yes."

"What if she's asleep?"

"It's only ten o'clock, hyung."

"What if she's eating dinner?"

"Then she'll reply later when she's free."

"What if she thinks I'm bothering her?"

"Hyung, PLEASE!" Seungkwan whined. "Just message her, okay?! There's no harm in trying."

Seokmin immediately opens the chat. Five minutes pass, and he's still typing. Seungkwan looked over, "You haven't sent anything, have you?"

"Nope." Seokmin glanced at him. "I can't decide if 'hi' is too casual."

He forgot how to breathe when you responded. He showed Seungkwan his phone, and both of them squealed like high school girls.

The first message was the hardest. Everything after that came surprisingly easy.

The messages continued for another week.

Morning greetings became lunch updates. Lunch updates turned into good night texts. Before long, Seokmin found himself smiling every time your name appeared at the top of his screen.

One Friday evening, while he was staring at the chat box and trying to figure out how to explain why his latest logo looked "too blue," a notification popped up.

Y/N is calling...

His eyes widened. "She's calling me?!" He stared at the screen for a second before panic set in. "Oh my god, she's calling me!"

He scrambled to answer. "H-Hello?"

A small laugh came from you. "Hi."

"...Hi."

"You sound nervous." You smirked lightly.

"I am, not gonna lie." Seokmin chuckled nervously.

"Good. That makes two of us."

The tension melted almost instantly.

"So…" Seokmin rubbed the back of his neck even though you couldn't see him. "How was work today?"

"Busy. Jun burned a tray of cookies again."

"He's literally the owner of Butter & Bloom. Isn't he supposed to be... perfect?"

"Exactly."

He laughed.

For the next hour, they talked about everything and absolutely nothing. You told him about difficult customers who insisted croissants should be cheaper. He complained about clients who asked him to "make the logo pop" without explaining what that actually meant.

"You know what the worst feedback I've ever gotten was?" Seokmin asked, rubbing his face with one hand.

"What?"

"'Can you make it... happier?'"

You burst into laughter. "What does that even mean?"

"You know what? To this day, I still don't know."

"But did you make it happier?"

"I mean," Seokmin snorted, "I added yellow."

You laughed so hard that Seokmin couldn't help laughing too. You plopped down on your couch and asked, "Did it work?"

Seokmin nodded. "It actually got approved."

"No!" You cackled.

"I'm serious!" Seokmin laughed, amused. God, if making you laugh was this easy, he wanted to keep doing it.

Hours slipped by unnoticed. Neither of them had realized how late it had gotten until Seokmin glanced at the clock.

1:43 AM

"Wait..." Seokmin gasped a little in realization.

"What?"

"It's almost two..."

Silence.

"Oops," Seokmin said.

"I have work in a few hours." You said quietly, as you lay in bed.

"We should probably sleep," Seokmin said.

"Probably."

Neither of you hangs up. The line just went silent for a few seconds.

"You first." You said sleepily.

"No, you."

You laughed quietly. "You're really bad at saying goodbye."

"That's because I don't want to," Seokmin said smoothly with his raspy voice.

Seokmin blinked. 'Did I just say that?' He thought.

You smiled into your pillow.

"Can I call you again tomorrow?" Your smile was felt through the phone. Seokmin had butterflies just thinking about it.

"I'd like that." Seokmin smiled so hard his cheeks started to hurt.

"Okay." You whispered.

"Okay." Seokmin echoed.

Neither of you made any effort to actually hang up.

"You hang up."

"No, you."

It took another four minutes before either of you actually ended the call.

Calling each other quickly became less of a habit and more of an unspoken routine.

Whether you had just finished your shift or Seokmin had spent the entire day revising the same logo for the fifth time, one of you always called first. Sometimes it was you. Sometimes it was him. It never really mattered.

Through these phone calls, you learned more about each other. You learned that Seokmin unconsciously sang while doing something fairly boring (you also learned that he had a great voice). He learned that you couldn't fall asleep without reading at least one chapter of a book while drinking chamomile tea.

Somewhere between sharing photos of your pastries and every draft of Seokmin's logos before they ever reached a client, talking to each other had become the favorite part of both your days. You even called him while he had an ongoing meeting with a client.

Seokmin quickly muted his mic and answered your call. "Hey, Y/N. Give me a few minutes, okay? I'm currently in a client meeting."

"Oh, I'm sorry." You frowned. "I can call later."

"No!" Seokmin exclaimed and cleared his throat. "I mean, no. You can stay on call. I don't really mind. Besides, I can ask your opinion after this meeting."

You smiled. Why would you settle for less if Seokmin literally answers your call while in a meeting? "Alrighty! I'll just mute myself, then. Let me know when it's fine to unmute."

"Okay, Y/Nie!" Seokmin smiled before unmuting himself in the meeting. "Apologies for that. It was an important call from... the bank. I had called about a complaint, and they were only solving it now."

You laughed so hard, you were glad you muted yourself.

"Anyway, can you all see my screen?"

Then, one Tuesday afternoon, while you were boxing up the last pastry order of your shift, your phone buzzed.

[Seokminnie]: Are you free this Saturday?

A smile found its way onto your face before you even realized it.

[Y/Nie]: I am, actually 😊

The typing indicator appeared almost immediately. Then, it disappeared. Then it appeared again. You couldn't help but laugh. Finally, he replied.

[Seokminnie]: Would you... maybe want to get coffee with me?

You bit your lip, smiling to yourself.

[Y/Nie]: I was wondering when you were going to ask.

[Seokminnie]: Wait... you knew I was going to ask you out?

[Y/Nie]: You've been trying to ask me for three days now

[Seokminnie]: So... Is that a yes?

[Y/Nie]: Yes. I'd love to go out with you!

[Seokminnie]: Really??? 🥹

[Y/Nie]: 🤣 Really.

[Seokminnie]: SKSKSKSKS BROOOO

[Seokminnie]: Oops, wrong send

[Y/Nie]: Never change, Seokminnie 🤣♥️

HEART FOREVER

One Year Later.

The familiar bell above the entrance chimed as you untied your apron.

"See you tomorrow, chef!" Youmi called from behind the espresso machine.

"See you!" you smiled, grabbing your bag from your locker.

Just as you reached the front door, Jun appeared from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. "Hold it."

You turned around. "Hm?"

Jun folded his arms dramatically. "You're smiling."

"I always smile."

"No." He shook his head. "That's your 'my boyfriend is picking me up today' smile."

You rolled your eyes and folded your arms, too. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar."

As if on cue, a familiar black Toyota Veloz pulled up outside Butter & Bloom. Jun nodded toward the window. "There he is. Right on time."

You sighed, defeated. "I hate that you know me so well."

"I know my employees." He grinned. "Go on. Don't keep Seokmin waiting."

You laughed before waving goodbye and stepping outside. The passenger door opened before you even reached the car.

"Hi." Seokmin smiled.

"Hi." Instead of kissing him immediately, you held out a paper bag. "I brought leftovers."

His face lit up. "Ispahan?"

"Ispahan." You nodded with a smile on your face.

"I love you."

"You haven't even tasted it yet." You chuckled.

"I don't have to." He winked.

3:00 PM "You'll be okay on your own?" you asked.

Seokmin nodded. "Kwannie is coming over, anyway. He said he wants to watch the new horror movie on Netflix with me. Besides, noona texted me three times already asking me where you are."

You laughed. He leaned over the center console and kissed your forehead. "I'll pick you up after."

The mall wasn't busy that afternoon.

"Y/N!" Jiyeon waved enthusiastically before immediately looping her arm through yours. "There you are."

"Sorry! We had a last-minute cake order."

"I forgive you if you—"

You held up a paper bag. "I made you croissants."

"This is why you're my favorite," Jiyeon said as she gently took the paper bag from you.

"I thought Seokmin was your favorite?"

Opening the paper bag and breathing in the smell of the croissants, she looked at you. "He just got replaced."

The next three hours were spent wandering through clothing stores, laughing over outfits neither of you would actually buy, and somehow leaving with matching bracelets despite insisting you were "just browsing."

"Wanna know something?" Jiyeon asked as you sat down with iced coffees.

"Shoot."

"Mom already calls you her daughter." Jiyeon teased.

You nearly choked on your drink. "She what?"

"Oh, you know," Jiyeon chuckled. "She calls me and says stuff like, 'our daughter came by yesterday and gave us pastries she made' or 'our daughter reminds us to take our vitamins'. She absolutely loves you... more than Seokmin at this point, and that's her baby."

You covered your face as Jiyeon laughed.

"I don't think she's letting you go, Y/Nie." Jiyeon smiled. "I don't think I can let you go, either. You're my new best friend."

Seokmin had picked you up thirty minutes later. Jiyeon sat in the back and was surprised that Seungkwan was there.

"Hi, noona!" Seungkwan smiled and waved. "I'm joining dinner, too."

"Don't you have a fancy charity gala to attend?" Jiyeon joked. She knew Seungkwan didn't care for those fake events that his family hosts.

"Ew." Seungkwan made a face.

6:30 PM Family dinner at the Lee household had been a monthly tradition. The moment you stepped in, Seokmin's mother wrapped you in a hug.

"My daughter! Oh, I missed you so much."

Seokmin sighed. "Eomma, noona and I are here, too."

Seokmin's mother glanced at her children and smiled. "I know. Both of you will always be my children."

Then she looked at you. "But she's my daughter."

"Hi, eomoni!" Seungkwan smiled.

"Oh, Seungkwan-ah!" She pulled him into a tight hug. "Aigoo, you're so thin. Let's eat now."

Dinner was loud. Stories overlapped. Jiyeon teased Seokmin for being a crybaby as a kid. His mother eagerly showed you baby photos despite Seokmin begging her not to. By dessert, your stomach hurt from laughing.

Later that night, everyone migrated to the living room.

"So..." Seungkwan said, helping himself to another serving of pastry. "When are you two getting married?"

That earned a small squeal from Seokmin's mother and sister. You and Seokmin nearly inhaled your drinks.

"Kwannie!"

"What?" Seungkwan chuckled and crossed his legs. "I'm asking for everyone's benefit. We'd like to be prepared, y'know."

"He's right," Seokmin's mother nodded. "I want a heads up, too, because I'd have a heart attack if it's a surprise."

Everyone burst into laughter.

One Week Later Your first anniversary. The restaurant overlooked the Han River, the city lights shimmering across the water. The waiter had just cleared your dessert plates when Seokmin cleared his throat.

You looked up. "Hm?"

"I got you something." He reached into his jacket pocket and carefully placed a small navy velvet box on the table. You froze.

"Seokmin..."

"What?"

"Is that what I think it is?" You asked him with wide eyes. At first, he looked puzzled by your reaction. Then, realization dawned on his face.

"No, wait!" He held both hands up immediately. "It's not an engagement ring!"

You blinked. "It's not?"

"No!" he said quickly. "Well..." He scratched the back of his neck. "...Not yet."

A laugh escaped you despite the tears already forming in your eyes.

"I am explaining this so badly," he groaned.

"You think?"

He reached across the table, gently taking your hand. "I know we've only been together for a year, but it's been the happiest year of my life."

His thumb traced slow circles against your skin.

"I can't promise life will always be easy. I can't promise we won't argue. I can't promise I'll always know the right thing to say." He smiled sheepishly. "I'm usually pretty bad at that."

You laughed through your tears.

"But I can promise that I'll keep choosing you. Every single day. I believe you're it for me. So..."

He opened the velvet box. Inside rested a simple silver band. "Until the day I ask you for real..."

He looked at you with the same shy smile you'd fallen for a year ago. "...Will you wear this?"

Tears spilled freely down your cheeks. "You idiot," you whispered.

His face fell. "...Is that a no?"

You immediately shook your head. "No!" You laughed. "It's a yes. It's always going to be a yes."

Relief flooded his face. "Oh, thank God."

He carefully slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly. Without another thought, you stood up, walked around the table, and wrapped your arms tightly around him.

"I love you," you whispered.

"I love you more."

When you finally pulled away, you looked down at the silver ring again. Then back at him. "...Okay."

"Hm? 'Okay' what?"

"When we get home..." A smile slowly spread across your face. "I'm baking you the best pastries I've ever made."

Seokmin's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"My love language is feeding the people I love."

He laughed softly. "I remember."

He intertwined your fingers, admiring the silver band resting there. "And I plan on letting you love me like that for a very, very long time."

"I'd like that." You smiled.

Outside, Seoul buzzed with life, completely unaware that a year ago, two strangers had taken a chance on each other because of a single swipe.

Maybe modern love wasn't as cruel as everyone said. Sometimes, it was as simple as finding someone who felt like home.

a/n: i super enjoyed creating that fake dating app, i swear! lmk what u think of this! after this is "my way" and i'm so excited for this one bc i have been thinking of this since i started this series!

P.S. thank you for all the love you have given me recently! i'm so honored to be on the receiving end. i'll do my best to write more stories and share it with you. all of you are my honeybees <3

Seokmin nods and starts to sing a lullaby, being careful with his tone so it won’t turn into a shouting competition — the baby’s loud crying and his loud singing. You bounce her little body lightly and try to follow Seokmin’s rhythm, quietly praying for it to help and make the toddler sleep and give you and Seokmin some peace of mind for at least half an hour.

It takes three songs for her to calm down and drift off. When you look down at her and see her fighting against her own body to keep her eyes open, your eyes widen and you look at Seokmin with a surprised yet relieved face. “It’s working, don’t stop,” you whisper. 

The tension in Seokmin’s shoulders seems to loosen up instantly and a grin appears on his face as he keeps on singing. When the girl finally falls asleep, you take her to your room and carefully place her in bed, leaving her there to sleep peacefully and closing the bedroom door. Once your eyes land on Seokmin’s figure you smile brightly and run to hug him. “We did it, she’s finally sleeping! The crying is over!”

“Thank God,” Seokmin sighs and hides his face in the crook of your neck, taking deep breaths as if trying to calm himself down. “I thought she was going to keep crying and crying and crying… That was a nightmare.”

“I know,” you chuckle. “At least now we have some time alone and you know what that means, don’t you?”

“Oh I sure know what that means,” Seokmin plants a kiss on your neck before leaning back and looking at you. “Time to clean the house up.”

You flash a tired smile to each other and start to tidy the house up while the girl sleeps. Seokmin takes care of the kitchen while you take care of the living room as you try your best to keep quiet in order to not wake the toddler up and provoke another crying session.

The kid sleeps like a tired person that hasn't slept for more than 24 hours because when Seokmin’s sister and her husband come to pick her up at night she’s still asleep. Seokmin’s sister thanks you for taking care of her daughter for the entire day and leaves along with her husband and daughter, making the usual silence come back to your place — the comfortable silence that doesn’t threaten to be replaced by loud cries.

“It’s over. It’s just the two of us again,” you say as you and Seokmin sit down on the couch, feeling exhausted. “Just like it should be.”

“I always knew that it’s tough taking care of a baby, but I didn’t know it was that hard.”

“But we had good moments as well. Did you remember how cute she looked when she was trying to reach out for the apple you were holding?” Seokmin turns his head to look at you and chuckles, smiling as he thinks of that moment. “And the cute little smiles she gave us almost every five minutes after she was fed? Adorable.”

The atmosphere turns into something quiet and comfortable as you think of all the good parts of taking care of Seokmin’s niece. You turn your head to look at Seokmin and he’s already looking at you with an expression on his face that makes what he’s thinking about become crystal clear because you are looking at him in the exact same way, thinking the exact same thing.

“Later on?”

“Later on,” Seokmin takes your hand and squeezes it gently. “Let’s enjoy the two of us a little bit more before changing our lives completely.”

You smile and nod. “I love you.”

“And I,” he reaches out and brushes his nose against yours. “Love you more. Now let’s get ready to sleep, I have a feeling we’ll sleep at least ten hours straight.”