#svt fluff

you were resting in your self-appointed assigned seat — a large chaise in the corner of the office, adjacent to a window, bathing you in the soft warm of the winter sun -- with your feet tucked under your thighs. it was one of your favorite spots in the house, perfect for mid-day naps or for spectating as your husband play video games across the room or catching up with a good book.

your eyes flit across paragraphs of the contemporary romance on your e-reader. a funny, lighthearted, easy read for a saturday afternoon.

only a few feet away, you could hear the clicks of seungcheol's keyboard and mumbled communication with teammates. over the years of sharing a home and a life, the sounds of his gaming had become an odd comfort for you. even when he got like this, so focused that you weren’t sure if he was aware you were still in the room, you enjoyed your husband’s company.

if you looked up, you would see his back to you, angled to give you a perfect view of his monitor’s screen. he was playing another shooting game that you didn’t remember the name of. his player sprinted across the field, collecting weapons and armor while shots rang in the distance. seungcheol's fingers moved deftly across his keyboard and mouse. his target aimed and zoomed as he tried to eliminate members of the opposing team.

when a sudden grumble left your stomach, you glanced at the time. you’d been splitting your attention between reading and watching seungcheol for nearly two hours. your fur baby, a tonkinese kitten, purred in your lap while pawing at the hem of your yoga pants. her favorite pastime was falling asleep in your or seungcheol’s lap while being pet and doted on.

you hadn’t eaten since breakfast earlier in the day. seungcheol had surprised with food and a warm mug of tea when you came down to the kitchen. you ate together while sharing jokes and catching up on each other’s past week, having been too busy lately to spend time together. some days, you left for work before he’d woken up. others, you’d fallen asleep waiting for him to shower and join you for a movie.

now, in the early afternoon, your body groaned for its next meal. despite how comfortable you’d become in your chair, you knew you’d have to leave to eat again soon. you could feel a slight wave of nausea creeping up the longer you went without eating. images of lunch options flashed in your mind — hamburgers, tofu soup, fried chicken, bbibimbap.

“babe?” you called. though seungcheol’s headset was on, only one ear was covered. a few seconds later, after the sound of your voice had registered to him, he responded with a distracted grunt.

"eh?"

slowly, you pushed yourself up from your seat, sliding your feet into plush blue slippers and leaving your e-reader behind. you tiptoed across the room until your hips met the back of his gaming chair. you exhaled softly as you bent over, just enough to be able to wrap your arms around his neck and rest your chin on top of his head.

“cheollie, are you almost done with this round?” you asked softly, almost a whisper.

“it just started, but it’ll be a short round. what’s up?” his fingers never stopped clicking as his brown eyes bounced from corner to corner of his monitor.

you sighed loudly, as dramatically as you could muster. seungcheol, expecting a conversation, muted his microphone. “i’m about to perish, babe. i’m nearing complete depletion of sustenance,” you drone. seungcheol, who is very used to his wife’s hyperbolic statements, says nothing. after a few seconds with no response, you try again. “we should go out for lunch.”

“okay, love. just give me a few more minutes and i’m all yours.” promises of food and uninterrupted quality time with your husband settled warmly in your stomach, giving you a buzzing feeling. or maybe that was the hunger.

“by the time you’re finished, i’ll be ready. i’m going to go get dressed.” but you made no effort to step away from him. instead, you leaned down further and began to pepper the side of his face with wet and loud kisses.

“ngh,” he groaned before a chuckle slipped out. “baby, you’re distracting me!” he scrunched his nose and tried to shrink away from your affections. but you noticed the blush creeping across his cheeks and ears.

“and you’re distracting me,” you counter, dropping your hands to his chest then his biceps, fingertips meeting skin past the hem of his cut-off sleeves. “have you been lifting more at the gym?”

you feel him flex his muscles beneath your fingertips, entertaining your ogling, before he’s encouraging you to leave and get ready for your lunch outing. seungcheol unmuted his headset as you walked away, yelling commands that floated down the hall.

—

no less than twenty minutes later, you settle your sunglasses on your head and double-check that you’ve grabbed your phone before leaving your bedroom.

seungcheol is already waiting by the door, perched on the back of the couch. “ready?” he extends his right hand toward you, clasping his palm against yours. he pulls you to stand between his thighs and on instinct, you wrap your arms around his neck. your husband’s large hands find your waist and settle there with a familiar grip.

seungcheol leans in and places a soft kiss against your lips. you savor the warmth of his rosy lips on yours only for a moment. when you pull away, his lips chase yours, never satisfied with just one kiss. “i love you,” he mumbled, his breath mingling with your own.

“i love you, to-“ your stomach grumbled again, louder than earlier, interrupting your affections. seungcheol’s eyes shone with amusement as he barked out a laugh. quickly, he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, quieting to giggles.

“can we go now?” you roll your eyes. “since my aching hunger is so funny to you,” you tease, “a large bowl of bbibimbap is calling my name.”

“lead the way.”

✎ᝰ.

a/n 2: finally something to upload!! HAPPY COUPSIE MONTH! i got this idea back in april, watching the 260414 couplay (10/10 bday present for me) and finally took time to realize it.

if even one person enjoys this, then it was worth posting. thank you for reading ♡

You throw a puzzled look his way. “But it's not like you're even gonna be able to use it. Considering you won't even be here for the next 3 months.”

“Not the point,” he argues back before excitedly pointing at an air fryer that catches his eye then running towards it. “How's this one?”

You walk over and look at the information card. “Looks pretty good,” you pull out the basket to inspect it, “not too big and not too small either. Seems pretty practical.”

Junhui watches you as you continue checking out the air fryer, turning it around to look at the back, inspecting all the buttons on the machine before carefully reading all the details and descriptions again. A feeling of warmth starts blooming in his chest at your enthusiasm over a little home appliance. “Let's get this one then,” he picks up one of the boxes on the shelf before grabbing your hand to lead you to the check out counters.

“You know, I've been meaning to get one of these babies for my own apartment.” You pat the air fryer that's currently resting on your lap as Junhui stops at the carpark of your apartment.

He knows. He's heard you talking about it to your friends and family multiple times.

“Why haven't you gotten one?”

You shrug, “it's just always out of my budget so I’m still trying to save up for it. Besides, I just splurged on my roomba not that long ago.”

He lets out a sigh, “you should have told me that earlier when we were shopping. I would have gotten you one.”

“That's exactly why I didn't tell you,” you chuckled then placed one hand on his thigh. “I didn't want you spending money on me.”

“But I want to buy you things and spend money on you,” an adorable pout starts forming on his face. “It's basically my job as the boyfriend to pamper and spoil you.”

To prevent the pout from turning into a full on sulk-fest, you quickly reassure him. “And you do that all the time! It's just that an airfryer isn't something I need urgently. That's why I’m planning to slowly save up until I can get one.”

He doesn't look convinced but relents anyway. He reaches for your hand that was resting on his thigh, “do you promise you'll tell me whenever you need or want something from now on?”

“Junnie,” you whine, “I can't possibly allow you to buy me everything I need or want.”

His grip on your hand tightens and he tells you with a laugh, “I’m not gonna let go, in fact, I will keep tightening my grip until you agree to it.”

You try to pull your hand out of his grasp without success so you start slapping at his hand in an attempt to get him to let go.

“It's not going to work,” he grins.

So you decide to play dirty and let out a loud yelp. “Ow, my finger!”

Junhui quickly releases his hold, dropping your hand then turning to look at you with scared, wide eyes. He grabs your hand again, bringing them up to his face to check on it. “I’m so sorry, are you okay? I didn't mean to—”

He's panic rambling.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You pat him on the arm, trying to calm him down but he's still apologising continuously. “If you're really sorry, kiss it better.”

You hold your hand up to his lips and he starts leaving little pecks on it.

“It tickles," you tell him with a soft laugh, trying to pull your hand back but he stops you by grabbing onto you.

He places a kiss to the back of your hand with a loud, obnoxious smooch making you giggle.

You're so enamored by how silly he is.

It's 12am and you're in bed, facetiming your boyfriend that's halfway across the world from you.

“I wish I was there right now, I hate that I can't be there with you.” He grumbles.

You smile at him, not even sure if he can see you because of how dark your room is. “It’s fine, Junnie. It's not your fault you have to work and it's just a birthday. It's no big deal.”

He frowns, “of course it is a big deal. Birthdays are supposed to be celebrated, they're special. Especially when it's yours.”

You just hum back lazily in response, feeling yourself about to drift off to sleep.

“So what are you doing later? Are you hanging out with your friends?”

“Nah, I’m just gonna have a chill day at home with Floofy. Probably catch up on some shows or watch some movies.” You let out a big yawn and Junhui laughs at the cute sight on his screen.

“Okay baby, I won't keep you up any longer. Go sleep, I’ll text or call you again later when I have the time. Happy birthday, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you tell him back before letting your eyes flutter shut.

You stir awake to the sound of Floofy scratching at your door from the outside, which is strange because you clearly remember her being inside the room with you before falling asleep. You check the time on your phone and see that it's already almost noon and then you hear it — noises coming from what seems like the kitchen of your apartment. Sitting up on your bed, you debated on who you should call for help and then you hear the scratching on your door again.

It's probably not safe to leave Floofy alone outside.

Quietly, you move across the room to open the door and Floofy quickly runs in and you immediately notice something attached to her collar.

“Please don't be a ransom note,” you think to yourself as you remove the folded piece of paper.

With a deep breath, you unfold it then slowly look down to see that it's a… Warranty card? You turn the card around, trying to see if it says what it was for and then your eyes finally land on, “Product: Air Fryer”

What the hell is going on here?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash. You quickly grab your phone then head outside to check what exactly was going on out there. You stop in your tracks when you see Junhui in your kitchen holding a pot in one hand as he frantically tries to pick up a pot lid from the floor with his other.

He freezes when he spots you, a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry, I didn't mean to be loud and wake you up.”

Your eyes scan the kitchen before landing back on your boyfriend, still in disbelief. “What... What are you doing here?”

“Surprise?” He says hesitantly as he moves towards you, “I’m here to celebrate your birthday and to give you your gift. Although I have to admit, it's not really off to a good start.”

“What do you mean not off to a good start?" You exclaim, quickly throwing your arms around him to pull him into a big hug. “I can't believe you're here.”

Pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, he tells you in an even softer voice, “Of course I have to be here. It's the love of my life's birthday.”

You snuggle closer into his chest, letting yourself drown in this feeling for a few minutes longer before finally looking up at him with a grin. “So, where is my present?”

There's a proud smile on his face as he leads you into the kitchen, pointing out the air fryer that's now sitting on your counter. The same exact one you had picked out at the store together before he left — all set up and ready to use.

Squealing, you run your hands all over the appliance. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Anything for you, my love.” He can't help but fall in love with you all over again in this very moment. At the way you're so genuinely happy over something this small and simple like you're a kid in a candy store.

“Tonight’s dinner will be a five course air fried feast.” You look back at him to announce excitedly.

You mused over his question, the doubt in his eyes making your chest constrict.

“I think they would be happy, of course. But they wouldn’t mind if you kept your shirt on and buttoned up.” 

Cheol’s expression still seemed unconvinced, so you hurried to add, “not to mention, it isn’t like couprangs are completely starved of your content. Remember that vacation photo of your bare back you posted not long ago? That was very sexy!”

Instead of a verbal response, Seungcheol merely cocked an eyebrow. It was hard to decide which expression – this or the pout – you found more attractive. Hoping that the burning of your cheeks wouldn’t give you away, you grinned widely. “See? Do this instead, and everyone will forget about whether you’re wearing a shirt or not!”

This finally got a laugh out of him, so full and honest that it jostled Kkuma in his lap. He cocked his eyebrow again, winking at you as you pretended to swoon. As you fell dramatically back against the couch, Cheol’s arm shot out, as if on instinct, to catch your head. His palm rested against the back of your head, the warmth radiating from it like a late summer bonfire. You didn’t move, simply tilting your head to look over at him.

“Are you re-enacting for me how Carats watch our videos?” He chuckled, eyes glued to yours as Kkuma tried to regain his attention by licking at his fingers furiously.

“Well, you should know what it’s like!”

“That’s how your friends react?”

“Me and my friends, yes,” you finally lifted your head again, Cheol’s touch following you for a second longer than strictly necessary.

“We’ve just spent thirty minutes watching music videos and you didn’t faint once.”

Before you could question if this was toeing the line too much, you had already replied with a joking “I only faint when you wink at me.”

Seungcheol gasped. “We just watched ‘LALALI’!”

You laughed at his expression of mock offence, as if you failing to faint at his wink reflected poorly on your character. Or on his acting. He was chasing your gaze when you turned to finally scratch an anxiously ignored Kkuma behind the ears, “I’m not going full-fan-girl-mode in front of you, Cheol.”

“Why not? We’re friends right?” When you looked up at the tone of his voice, he was still looking at you intently. His gaze seemed more intense than usual, somehow darker and purposeful. But it was gone within a second, leaving you to wonder whether it had only been your illustrious imagination. You simply shook your head in soft refusal, “trust me, you are not ready to see that. The only person I am fully unhinged with is Bora, and that’s just because she behaves the exact same way.”

“Oh, come on!” He was whining again, presumably wearing that heart-melting pout. So you decreed it safer to continue looking at Kkuma. Unfortunately, it only led him to lean in closer, cocking his head in an effort to squeeze into your line of vision. Even more unfortunately, this meant that, upon looking up, your face was mere inches from his. And if his pouting drew your eyes to his lips, that really couldn’t be considered your fault. Your eyes kept flickering between his pouty lips and the pleading gleam in his eyes. The stare-off lasted a moment too long before you remembered to lean away.

“I want to see you react to LALALI.”

“But we just watched it!”

“So? We just watch it again. I want to see your honest reactions,” there was just a beat of hesitation before he explained, “to know what Carats feel when they watch our music videos.”

While he had been talking, the pout had never left his face. On the contrary, Cheol had – further – taken to puffing out his cheeks, giving you a really hard time trying not to squish his face.

“You’re doing this on purpose!” You groan, throwing your head back. His hand shot out again.

“Of course,” he murmured, softly turning your face back towards him. When your eyes met, he dropped his hand, as if the back of your head had spontaneously spouted spikes. You had no way of knowing if it was because of your look of shock or because he realised he was sending signals that he had no intention of sending. 

Cheol handed you the laptop again, smiling as if nothing had happened. Which it hadn’t, technically.

“How about this, I’ll show you the new unit song that Mingyu and I have been working on. Something new to react to. And there may or may not be winking involved.” His tone was unbearably teasing. If you looked at him now, you were sure he would just wink at you again.

You knew that Cheol knew that he had you convinced the second he had employed that puppy pout. Why pretend any longer that you were putting up a fight?

Your voice sounded far off to yourself when you said, “Anything for the fans, huh?”

A familiar nagging voice returned, reminding you not to read too much into his actions or his interest in your reactions. Reminding you that Seungcheol had explained himself. The two of you were friends. You were helping him get a better understanding of the fandom. With the added benefit of boosting his ego a little. That’s why he was interested. That’s why you were watching music videos early. Not because you were special or he felt differently about you.

A sigh escaped you as you clicked through the files he indicated. Seungcheol shifted even closer to you, Kkuma whingeing in annoyance at all the movement. Suddenly the air felt stiff as Cheol’s thigh pressed up against yours, his arm on the couch behind you, wrapped around your shoulders, so he could lean in closer and watch alongside you. If you turned your head to the side, you would be able to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“If you’re sitting this close, you’ll probably get smacked in the face a bunch of times. I have very physical reactions.”

“Hmmm,” he mused, as if moving away was a difficult decision to make, “I think I’ll be able to block your flailing arms.”

You gasped in pretend offence, “Flailing? My arms don’t flail! They move gracefully and accurately! How long have you known me?”

He laughed again, full-bodied, in a way that vibrated through his whole body. The feeling diffused through your body from where your thighs were pressed against each other’s.

“Years. But apparently I’ve also never seen you react honestly to a K-Pop video.”

“Well, if I did, you would have gotten jealous!” You meant it in jest, nudging his shoulder and winking cockily for good measure. To your surprise, instead of meeting your joke, Seungcheol’s eyes darkened. The small yes that he replied with sounded entirely too serious. Maybe it was the late hour, the bottle of wine you had shared over the course of dinner or the physical proximity. Whatever it was, something in the air tonight had Seungcheol gently poking the existing boundaries of your relationship. Or, perhaps, one of the aforementioned factors simply had your wishful thinking take the helm, hoping to see signs that weren’t actually there. 

Fuck it, you thought, looking over through hooded eyes and whispering, “Don’t be, you know you’re always my favourite.”

You wiggled your eyebrows, leaning back immediately to make sure you weren’t making him uncomfortable with the closeness. Turning back to face the laptop screen, you missed the way Seungcheol leaned in for a second, lips parted slightly. You missed how he blinked himself out of the stupor. You missed how his eyes traced your profile as you started the video, his gaze softening at the vision of you in his arms.

Instead, you were greeted with the opening scene of the new GyuCheol subunit’s music video. The intro started, you tapping your foot along to the rhythm. You made it all the way to the first solo shot of Mingyu before Cheol reached over and pressed fast forward.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, slapping his hand away, “I thought you wanted my reactions?”

“Yeah, but we can skip the less important parts.”

“How dare you suggest that Kim Mingyu is unimportant! He’s my favourite!”

“I thought I was your favourite!” Cheol’s tone was somewhere between indignation and genuine upset.

“All of you are my favourites!”

“That’s definitely not how favourites work.”

“Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it? Because—”

“No,” he interrupted you, quick fingers jump across the keyboard to pause the video.

“Huh?” You started, “I’m sorry, what?”

Seungcheol’s hand slammed the laptop shut and pulled it off the coffee table; he threw the device onto the other side of the L-shaped couch beside you. Cheol’s free hand came up to turn you towards him.

“What are you—”

“You don’t get to see it again until you’ve told me who your actual favourite is.”

Eyes met, yours wide in surprise, his narrowed in conviction. He leaned back to give you more space, but wrapped his fingers around your wrist, pulling your hand towards him and away from reaching, futilely, for the laptop.

“Okay, first of all,” you started, attempting to tug your hand back, but Seungcheol’s grip remained firm. “First of all, you’re the one who wanted me to watch this!”

Cheol only grinned, shrugging his shoulders.

“And secondly, aren’t you the guy that said he would only get jealous if Carats liked other groups, not other members?”

“I said that?”

“Yes you did!”

“Hmm,” he cocked his head as if he was considering your words, “I don’t think I did.”

“Ugh, you incorrigible gaslighter!”

Cheol giggled, dropping his head to your shoulder. He mumbled against your collarbone, “That statement only goes for regular Carats…”

His breath tickled against your skin as you rolled your eyes, pretending like your heart wasn’t going to jump out through your throat any second. It was difficult to stay mad at him when he was cuddling into your side like that.

“So I’m not a regular Carat?”

“No,” he whispered. If it wasn’t for the soft exhale against your skin, you would have missed his reply entirely. Trying to lean in closer to catch the rest of his sentence, you realised there was nowhere closer to go. You still made out his next words, “You’re special.”

You’re special. It wasn’t a side effect of the alcohol or your imagination. You were special to him.

If things had turned out differently, you would have attributed what followed to a cruel joke of fate. A temporary lapse of judgement brought on by the booze or the drowsiness or the comfortable warmth of his body next to yours. But with the way things went, it was more of a stroke of divine intervention, a heavenly kick in the butt.

Whatever it was that made you lean forward, tilt your head, and press your lips to his, it somehow bypassed all revision by your disciplined, fully-developed and entirely in-control frontal lobe. Or she was betraying you. The bitch.

At any rate, your lips were now pressed against Choi Seungcheol. Choi Seungcheol – close friend, certified insanely attractive person, and leader of one of the biggest boybands on the planet. You would have pulled away the second these thoughts occurred to you. But of course your brain was too slow, no surprise there. Before you could react and pull away, Cheol’s hands were on you. One rested lightly on your cheek, the other tangled into your hair, effectively keeping you from moving out of his space.

Your cognitive functions were still stuck on the fact that he hadn’t turned away and rejected you softly when he cocked his head and nibbled at your bottom lip. At that point any thought of rationality flew out the window. You gave in easily, finally melting into his touch, into his heat. It was seeping through his clothes, small sparks of warmth travelling through your body and lodging in your chest until it felt like there was a candle ignited behind your ribcage.

Your arms snaked around his neck, soft and loose, as if the warmth was actively melting all of your muscles. If you still had had a faculty of rational thought, you would have cringed at the frankly embarrassing whine escaping you at the feeling of his tongue and his hands and his warmth pressed against you. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, both of you turned halfway, Kkuma trapped between your bodies, so you had to move apart much sooner than you would have liked. Seungcheol gave you no way to gauge his expression, immediately burying his face in your neck again. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, coming out in slight pants. The noise that escaped him was somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.

“Sorry,” he eventually breathed.

“For what?” You giggled. Maybe you would have been worried by the implications of that word, if he hadn’t still been hanging off your neck like a baby monkey.

“I think I’m a little drunk…”

You didn’t say anything in reply. Knowing his tolerance and how long it had been since you two had finished the wine, you seriously doubted that statement. So you remained quiet, giving him space to figure out what he was really trying to say. Cheol remained silent until you threaded your fingers into his hair, at which point he sighed blissfully.

“Don’t stop,” he muttered.

“Do you want to call it a night?”

He grumbled into your neck in a way that made your heart constrict. Kkuma, too, seemed to sense her daddy’s distress and stood up between the two of you. Her little paws were trying to find purchase on you while trying to lick Cheol’s face in consolation.

“Since when are you so shy?”

He stayed silent for a while, just leaning into your hand that was still carding through his hair. Eventually, he mumbled into your side. When you asked him to repeat himself, he sighed, relapsing into silence. When he spoke up again, it sounded nothing like his first sentence.

“I’m not actually drunk anymore.”

You giggled, “then why did you say that?”

“Because maybe you hated that?” You could tell from the tone of his voice that he was pouting again.

“What? Making out with you?”

He whined, which just made you chuckle again.

“Did you get the impression that I hated it?”

“Mmmmhh… no…?”

“No,” you confirmed. He smiled against your skin and lifted his head to look up with soft eyes. Just studying your face for a few seconds, he finally reached up to your chin, beckoning you closer. “Then,” he murmured against your lips, “is it okay if we keep going?”

In lieu of an answer, you connected your lips with his. The two of you toppled back against the couch and Cheol’s arm locked around your waist, pulling you into his lap. Poor Kkuma had to escape with a quick jump and a yelp but neither of you were paying much attention. You were too busy focusing on the way Seungcheol’s thighs felt under you, how his hands left trails all over your body, and how firm his shoulders were when you grazed your flat palms over them. They continued their path down his arms, over his biceps and back up, one hand snaking across his back, the other running down his chest. He grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away sharply. But when you pulled back, his eyes were full of adoration.

“You good?”

He nodded, his eyes raking over your body, his hands following at a slightly slower pace. He sighed, “You’re just so…”

“I’m hardly the pinnacle of hot bodies,” you laughed.

“No, you’re perfect.” His tone was soft, matter-of-fact.

“Look who’s talking.”

He was blushing immediately, incapable of fighting the smile that crept onto his face.

“I should work on my abs a little more fi—”

“Not this again!” You reached forward, squishing his cheeks between your hands, and leaned in menacingly.

“If you talk about my favourite person like that again, I will have to ddakbam you!”

He laughed, “okay, okay. No reason to threaten me.”

Seungcheol smiled softly, his hands running down your sides and resting on your hips. He still didn’t seem fully convinced, as if scared you would change your mind once you saw him out of his t-shirt. As if he wasn’t incredibly fit.

“We don’t have to go any further,” you reassured him.

“Do you want to?”

You smiled softly, more concerned with his comfort than your own simmering desire.

“Do you want to, Cheollie?” You could watch his expression darken at the use of that nickname. Formerly, you attributed it to your imagination, but this wasn’t the first time you had been able to observe him react like this. It was the exact reason you were calling him by it right now.

“I want to pick you up, carry you to my bedroom and just have my way with you.”

You were smirking. “What’s stopping you?”

“You,” he huffed, “you haven’t given me the green light yet.”

Catching his lips in a short kiss, you whispered against them, “I really really want you to take me to your bedroom and have your way with me.”

You could feel his smirk, rather than see it.

“Alright. What my girl wants, my girl gets.”

He didn’t even give you time to calm your fluttering heart at his choice of words before he picked you up, his strong arms wrapped around you. He got up with you in his arms, and as he carried you towards the bedroom, there was nothing but wonder in his expression, his eyes glued to your face.

Cheol stopped in front of his bed, surprising you by laying you down softly. As he crowded you against the mattress, one biceps supporting his weight beside your head, you could watch his expression change in a beat. His gaze, so adoring a second ago, darkened, roving over your features like he was trying to take in everything at once. You were tempted to turn your head and nibble at the bulging muscle next to you, but his eyes were holding you in place. He grinned as he leaned closer, kissing along your jawline while drawing one knee up, slotting it between your legs. As he caught your lips in a kiss, suddenly uncontrolled and heated, his knee kept sliding up until it pressed against your core, eliciting a soft moan from you that Cheol swallowed readily.

His hands made quick work of the old t-shirt of his that you were wearing, tossing it aside before resuming the kiss. You sighed at the feeling of his hands finally meeting bare skin as they ran up and down your body, toying with the hem of your old sports bra. He was panting as he let up, resting his forehead against yours.

“Still sure of this?”

“Sure as anything.”

“If you waited a few months, you’d definitely have a better view,” he tried to joke. But his tone betrayed him. You saw the glimmer of real insecurity behind his façade.

“How about this,” you asked, pushing against his chest softly. Cheol went without resistance, rolling over onto his back as you straddled his lap. He was looking up at you with a mix of amusement and intrigue.

Undeterred, you proposed, “I take care of you first. And help you realise how fucking attractive you are. And then we can go back to you having your way with me.”

He chuckled, hands squeezing your hips to move you over a little. You had to push down  the smugness at the feeling of his already rock-hard cock poking against your thigh. This wasn’t about you or about control. This was about showing Seungcheol how goddamn hot (and blind) he was. So you decided to give him a show. First, you got rid of the meddling bra. Then, slowly dragging your hands over your body, you swayed from side to side, rocking against the obvious tent in his pants. His eyes were tracking your every move, dark and mesmerised; his grip on your hips tightened. Your left hand found its way to your tits, massaging it. The other dragged down Seungcheol’s chest again, slowly and deliberately as you held eye contact with him. This time, he didn’t stop you. On the contrary, his breath hitched as you leaned down, pressing a row of featherlight kisses up the column of his throat.

“Baby,” he breathed, the sound just on the verge of impatience.

“Hm,” you hummed against his throat, ignoring him as your hands continued their ministrations. They were covering every inch of his upper body, smoothing over his arms and his t-shirt, up and down, until they reached the hem. You tugged at it, cocking a questioning eyebrow. Seungcheol’s eyes found yours, still blown wide. He nodded wordlessly, preferring to focus on chasing your lips instead of concerning himself with your hands. Exactly where you wanted him. You grinned, meeting his lips and giving him what he wanted, moaning into his mouth as his hands shifted lower and started kneading the flesh of your ass. He lifted himself up, so you could pull the shirt over his head, and used the opportunity to pull your body down, grinding you over his erection. In reaction, you used a not insignificant part of your own strength to push him back down. He frowned at the loss of friction.

“I’m not done looking… and kissing you, all over…” you trailed off, pouting and batting your eyelashes for extra effect. Cheol grinned.

“Who am I to say no to you?”

You smiled brightly, your hands wandering downwards from his shoulders over his chest and stomach. Your eyes trailed them, raking over every inch of bare skin you could see. You were sure there was something akin to hunger in your eyes. You hoped Cheol could see it too.

“Wow, you look good,” you murmured, almost to yourself, when you finally leaned down to continue the trail of kisses you had formerly abandoned, by fault of his t-shirt. You picked it up at his pulse point, continuing down his body.

His amusement vanished, breath growing shallower by the second. One of his hands entangled itself in your hair, loosely. You smiled, kissing downwards from his navel.

“You’re so adorable…” you looked up at his tone, and he cradled your face, “wanna keep going, pretty girl?”

The eagerness must have been evident in your eyes because Seungcheol chuckled at your expression. He made quick work of his pants, unbuckling his belt and shoving them down to free his dick. His hand found its way back into your hair, tighter this time. You went easily when he guided you downwards, eagerly pressing close to him, sticking out your tongue to lick a stripe up the underside of his cock, tracing the vein there. Cheol groaned above you, tugging at your hair lightly.

You smiled, kitten-licking at the head as your hands trailed over his thighs. For a few minutes you mouthed at his cock, taking your time; taking pleasure in the way Cheol’s groans kept growing more and more agitated while you pressed your tongue into his slit, one hand moving to squeeze and tug at his balls.

“Stop… ngh… stop teasing, baby.”

You smirked at the expression on his beautiful face – eyebrows knit together, his bottom lip red and swollen from the way he kept biting it in pleasure. His tone was still commanding, but you found it difficult to take him seriously while he was looking mussed up like this.

“Or what?” You asked, finally earning eye contact.

Cheol’s pupils were blown out, focusing on you with unmistakeable intention. His hand tightened again, and you couldn’t suppress the moan that slipped past your lips at the sharp tug. He mirrored your grin, a wild quality to his expression, “Keep misbehaving and you’ll get to find out.”

You held eye contact as you lowered your mouth around him, just the head for now. As your tongue swirled around him, one of your hands squeezed around the base of his cock, the other still paying sweet attention to his balls. Another smile and a wink, and Seungcheol (finally) broke. Contrary to your expectations, the pressure in your hair pulled you off instead of shoving you down.

“Cheol…?”

“Safe word.”

You gulped, “Uhm… red?”

“And when your mouth is otherwise occupied?” He cocked an eyebrow, a devilish smirk on his lips.

“I’ll tap out.”

“Good girl,” he cooed, soothing one loving hand over your cheek. “You’re still sure of this?”

When you simply nodded in reply, his hand returned to your locks, shoving you down in a singular abrupt movement. You offered no resistance as you took him into your mouth.

A few shallow thrusts, one short hesitation, “Think you can take more?”

Answering would have been a futile endeavour, so you opted for simply moaning around his length, pressing your tongue against the underside of his dick with intention. Trying desperately to shuffle even closer to him, you became acutely aware of the pooling wetness in your panties. You were forced to adjust again in order to be able to grind yourself against the floor, in desperate search of any kind of friction.

“Fuck,” he swore, forcing you to let your jaw go slack as he pushed deeper. Your eyes rolled back, looking at him where he was sitting above you. Cheol’s eyes were zeroed in on where your lips were stretched around his cock as his chest heaved with every breath. His hips bucked upward, inadvertently, judging by the way he apologised, his free hand stroking your cheek.

The hand that was resting in your hair tightened, holding you in place firmly as he began to move in earnest. You gagged, focusing on breathing through your nose, letting your tongue push against that vein as he lifted his hips off the bed and continued to fuck your mouth. Your hands tightened around his thighs, loosing track of time amongst the lewd sounds and the dim bedroom lighting, until he pulled you off him, telling you to give him a second.

You continued grinding yourself down on the floor, still chasing that stimulation until a small tug drew your eyes upwards to him. He was panting, staring at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were there, kneeling on his bedroom floor before him. Cheol opened his mouth but you only slapped his hand away. It was still holding you back. Disregarding his silent command, you dove back down to suck on his balls, your hand wrapping around his cock tighter than strictly necessary. As much as you had enjoyed him treating you like you were fragile and precious, it was high time he got what he wanted. After all, during your years of friendship you had become first-hand witness to the way he enjoyed taking charge. With how riled up he was, it was only a question of pressing a few calculated buttons before he would inevitably throw you onto the bed and finally make good on his promise. When your mouth returned to his member, he hissed, his hips twitching forward unwillingly.

“Sto— ah, shit, baby…” Cheol pushed you back, stern eyes. They were dark, caught between anger and arousal as he growled, “What did I just say?”

You bit your lip, taking your sweet time with a reply. In the most saccharine tone you asked: “Stop?”

“And did you listen?”

A shake of the head, still grinning. It didn’t seem to please him to see you so happy with yourself for disobeying him.

“You don’t want me to fuck you, huh? You can just tell me.”

Your eyes widened. Well, that was an unexpected development. If you hadn’t been so keyed up yourself, maybe you would have noticed the desperation in his gaze, the raging need to feel you against him, the impatience to finally take you. But as it stood, the tone of his voice sent you into a frenzied sort of worry. With a frantic shake of your head, you pawed at his skin, kissing up his torso once more.

“No, please. Cheollie, I’ll be good.”

Making your way up his chest, you were rewarded with a ribald look in his eyes. Gone was the insecurity, gone was the hesitancy. What remained was fucked out Cheol, his hair standing up in all directions – curtesy of your roaming hands; his chest heaving and flushed; the air around him generally bordering on desperate. He caught your jaw while you were making your way up, guiding you to his lips and crashing them against yours. This must be delirium, you thought, as he licked into your mouth, bit at your bottom lip, mirrored your whines.

“Cheollie…” you mewled again, feeling so evidently how that nickname affected him, especially coming from you. If only he would finally—

His hand loosened its iron grip on your jaw, both arms sneaking around you, grabbing at your ass. Seungcheol hoisted you up, practically throwing you over his shoulder onto the bed.

You pushed up onto your elbows, but a short, decisive shove of Seungcheol sent you back again.

“How about this time you stay down, hm, baby?” His eyes said that there was no debate to be had. For a second, you contemplated it, just for the hell of. Just to see what his reaction would be if you still refused to listen like his good girl. But, really, there was no more merit to his. This was the exact position you had been aiming for. Not to mention, his last threat still hung heavy in the air, and you weren’t going to take any chances or delays.

You laid back, one hand trailing up your inner high, sighing softly under his gaze. Cheol’s own hand, so much digger in direct contrast, followed the trail you were marking until he pushed you fingers aside in impatience. He dragged your old sweatpants down your legs (why were you still wearing those?), immediately resting a finger over your core.

“Hypocrite,” he grinned,” you make such a big show of teasing me, when you’re this soaked yourself.”

“I never pretended you weren’t affecting me,” you breathed, holding his eyes, determined for him to see your candour. He smirked.

“That so?”

He leaned down, lips attaching to your chest as the hand on your soaked centre finally started to move. Despite the small relief it brought, Seungcheol stubbornly refused to push your panties aside. You whined, threading your fingers into his hair. There was barely space in your head to resent him for insisting on teasing you after you had been so generous.

“Is this payback?” You whispered, desperation seeping into your tone. Cheol’s only response was the smirk you could feel against your skin. He continued to touch you, the pressure just enough to be teasing, never enough to bring you to your peak. With the breath of his name and another tug at his hair, you kept pleading with him. Cheol wasn’t usually able to resist your wishes.

He chuckled at your poorly veiled attempts. “You should be happy I wasn’t in the mood for actual punishment.”

“Cheoool,” you moaned, drawing out his name and grinding against his hand, you can’t just say that.”

“Don’t tell me you’re into that, baby.”

“If you’d finally put your fingers or dick where they belong, you would’ve felt exactly how ‘into that’ I am.” Undeterred, you kept grinding against him as Seungcheol let out an undeterminable sound. Somewhere between exasperation, regret, and slipping self-control. Most importantly, it finally got him to pull your panties down your legs and push your further up onto the bed. He followed immediately, resting one elbow next to your head and shifting his weight. It allowed his other hand to return to your core, with an added sense of urgency.

“We’re going to have to change the bedding,” he whispered as two of his fingers finally found your entrance. Your arms wrapped around his broad back as you tried hiding your face in his shoulder, considering for a second to bite down on his pretty skin. Maybe next time you would discuss it beforehand and get the green light.

“Feels good, huh?” His voice pulled your side-tracked mind back to the present. He sounded more smug than you had ever heard him. As he continued slowly fucking you open, he leaned down to whisper directly into your ear. “After all, it’s where they belong,” he parroted.

Robbed of all words, you could only close your eyes and throw your head back, focusing on the feeling of his fingers moving inside you. You heard him chuckle in response. The pad of his hand found your clit, exerting pressure while his fingers kept pumping in and out of your heat. Despite your continuous pants and moans, he felt the need to repeat his earlier query. This time, a distinct smugness snug into his tone, “feels good, baby?”

Apparently that hadn’t been a rhetorical question. His fingers stilled, until you forced yourself to open your eyes, meeting Seungcheol’s inquisitorial gaze. For a moment, you contemplated teasing him more, asking where the cocky promise of punishment had gone. But something in his gaze gave you halt.

“Feels so good, “ you murmured, holding eye contact. Your hand cupped his face, thumb brushing over his cheek. You felt the burning need to pull him in for a kiss, deep and honest and loving. Both of you groaned into it. When you broke apart, you whispered against his lips, “Now can you please get back to fucking me, oppa.”

He smiled down at you, shaking his head in disbelief. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.” His smile turned into a smirk as you gave him your best innocent doe eyes. Seungcheol laughed outright.

“It’s working, love,” he admitted, eyes clearly stating the unsaid: two can play that game. The new nickname sent shivers up your spine. Or maybe it was simply Cheol’s frank tone or the unmistakeable emotion in his eyes.

“You’re stunning,” he continued. His hand left your middle as he leaned back a little. You didn’t even have time to  protest at the distance before both his hands grabbed your hips, pulling you towards him, your core meeting his thigh. An involuntary moan escaped you. Immediately, you started grinding against Seungcheol’s thigh as his hands wandered over your body, mimicking your earlier movements.

“I know I was talking big game just now, but I need you to know that I lo— I really care about you.” His words were only half-registering. You were too busy pushing your body upwards into the warmth of his hands. Only humming in agreement, you simply pulled him down by the nape of neck.

He moaned into the kiss, giving up resistance quickly in favour of wrapping his big arms around you. Flipping both of you over like it was nothing, he pulled you into his lap, your body flush against his. The two of you stayed entangled, lost in each other’s touch for hell knows how long. It was only when Seungcheol started grinding up against you, his hard-on painfully evident, that you were made aware of any passage of time at all. In the end, it was him that finally broke the kiss, red in the face and panting like he’d just run a marathon.

“As much fun as this is, if I don’t get inside in the next few minutes, I think I might actually go insane.” You smiled and nodded, making clear that the feeling was mutual.

“There’s condoms in the top drawer.” 

He nodded to the bedside table. You leaned over, refusing to leave his lap, so he steadied you with his hands on your hips. Opening the drawer, you had to hold back a giggle at the wild assortment. There’d be time to tease him about it. Later.

You grabbed a normal one, but exclaimed, “Oh! Flavoured! My favourite.”

“Sorry, should I have suggested that earlier,” he looked a little chastised but you shook your head.

“There’s always a next time,” you said with a wink as you rolled the condom down his length. He groaned in response, whether to your touch or the promise of a next time, you weren’t sure.

“You want it like this?” He asked, once you had resituated yourself on his lap. As if you needed clarification, he ground up into your soaked folds, his dick catching on your clit deliciously. Barely holding on by a thread, you nodded enthusiastically.

“Is this okay for your knee?”

Instead of a reply, Seungcheol scooped one arm under you, biceps bulging as he lifted you up. You had to fight demons not to get lost in the endless possibilities your imagination was offering you about that, instead choosing to keep your wits about yourself in order to help him inside of you. The manhandling daydreams would have to wait until later, or maybe just until that promised next time.

Cheol’s other arm flung around you, stabilising you as you started to sink down on his cock. Judging by the look on his face, he was having as much trouble as you staying focused while you sunk down, centimetre by centimetre. You had thought he hadn’t heard your earlier question or simply deigned it unnecessary to answer, when he buried his face in your neck as he said, “if I have to ruin my knee again just to fuck you right, so be it.”

The way you moaned his name in response, made him twitch inside you and momentarily lose all focus. You slipped through his grasp, taking his last few inches at once. The head of his cock hit you deeper than you would have thought possible, and it knocked all the wind out of both of you. Cheol threw his head back with a groan and gripped your hips like his life depended on it.

“Fuck, baby, gimme a second,” he whispered, pressing his lips against yours softly.

You grinned, squeezing around him as you teased, “need some time to adjust, baby?”

At the feeling of your pussy constricting around him, Cheol’s breath hitched. He searched for your gaze, his expression itself unsure whether it should be annoyed or pleading. In response, you only cocked an eyebrow, grinding down against him. It was a rare occasion to get Choi Seungcheol this meek, his big puppy eyes looking up at you. And while you thought it was heart-warming he was trying to be careful with you, you also thought it would be a waste of those perfectly huge arms to keep things this vanilla. So, while you watched his expression continue to falter as your arms snaked around his broad shoulders, you leaned in, kissing a torturously slow line of kisses along the side of his neck to his ear, to whisper, “please move, oppa. I want to feel you.”

You punctuated your statement with a sharp rut against his pelvis. He practically growled as he grabbed your ass roughly, holding you up slightly so he could fuck up into you at a punishing pace. Moaning, you dropped forward, leaning against his chest in an effort to ease the strain for him, but equally keen to egg him on more. You kept whispering his name in his ear as Cheol continued to bully his cock into your heat, hitting all the right spots with every stroke. You met every stroke, managing to find friction against his skin that dragged deliciously against your clit.

“Oh my god, Cheollie,” you whined, eyes screwing close as the arousal mounted and you could feel your core constrict. He groaned, long and drawn out, seemingly just as overwhelmed at the tightening sensation as you.

Barely able to form a full sentence, he asked, “you close, baby?” His question was punctuated by his thrusts, coming out in syncopation with his movements. You hummed in reply, a long string of desperate cries of ‘yesyesyes’ tumbling from your lips.

Cheol’s grip tightened impossibly as he continued fucking up into you, his arms starting to shake with the effort. You clawed at his back when he gave a few more sharp thrusts, each increasing the white, hot feeling bubbling in your core, winding you higher and higher. As you felt your core tighten, his lips found yours again, desperate and hungry, biting and moaning into your mouth like a man possessed.

“Come for me,” he panted, somewhere between commanding and pleading, “come on, baby. Come on my cock, be good for me, yeah?”

You couldn’t begin to fathom a reply, head vacant of anything except for Cheol’s last few words, playing on repeat as the pleasure exploded through you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you barely registered Cheol stuttering out a groan as he came into the condom, rocking both of you through your orgasms. In the aftershocks of it, you simply sacked forward against him. After a few breaths, he heaved you off of his lap and pitched himself forward, landing on top of you with his full weight. The air was pressed out of your lungs upon impact, leading you to smack him across the back of the head with little conviction.

Barely audible, you exclaimed, “Choi Seungcheol! Do you have any idea how heavy those muscles are?”

You tried to wiggle free, but Seungcheol snuck his arms fully around your middle, tightening his grip. He lifted his head from your shoulder, looking at you with a smug grin, “just give me a second, yeah? Then I’m ready for feedback.”

You snorted, trying to somehow manoeuvre his body off of yours, but he had your arms pinned to your sides.

“Cheol,” you whined, “I should go to the toilet.”

“Why bother?”

“It’s important to pee after sex,” you insisted, rolling your eyes. Making another attempt at wriggling free, you were stopped in your tracks when he murmured, “you can go once we’re finished.”

Too fucked out to think of a proper comeback, you just said, “we’re not finished?”

“You were the one who brought up a ‘next time’.”

“Yeah, next time, as in, like, next week or something…”

You cocked an eyebrow at him, receiving no response. Cheol just looked at you, expression remaining blissfully relaxed, pupils blown wide.

“We can also do it again next week, but you were so excited about those flavoured condoms.” He was smirking now, holding your gaze and wiggling his eyebrows.

You giggled, shaking your head. For a few seconds you pretended to mull it over before stating, “I guess you deserve a reward.”

This made him laugh, the sound reverberating through both your ribcages. Cheol leaned up a bit from where his head was resting against your collarbone, one hand turning your face towards him. He pressed his lips against yours, soft and sweet until you bit his bottom lip, slipping your tongue into his mouth. You used the welcome distraction to finally pull one arm free from his grasp, then broke the kiss. He simply continued to stare at you, so you used your newly liberated limb to brush some hair out of his face. He blushed.

Smirking, you imitate his earlier tone, “I lo— care about you, too.”

Seungcheol pouted, burying his face in your shoulder again. Despite his whining, you could feel the corners of his mouth lift. He shifted upwards, hiding against your hair to whisper, “you want me to say it? I’ll say it. Right now.”

Cheol pressed his lips against the soft skin there, lingering for a bit longer.

“You don’t have to,” you finally said, “I don’t want you to say it just to make me happy. I want you to mean it.”

He tried pulling you even closer, a futile endeavour, given there was no space between you currently. Almost too low to hear, he murmured, “I could’ve said it after the first four months, and I still would’ve meant it.” You cart your fingers through his hair, waiting for him to continue. “I just didn’t want to put you on the spot.”

You took his face in your hands, nose brushing against his. Without breaking eye contact you said, “I love you.” 

He crashed his lips against yours, hands pawing at your sides.

“I love you, too”—with his free hand he pushed the both of you back up, manoeuvring you into a lotus position. “Let me show you just how much.”

You laughed, “will your knee be okay?”

── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #1 ☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆˚✿TITLE: The Wedding Game ⋆˚✿PAIRING: wedding photographer!seokmin x wedding planner!reader ⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: There is nothing so dangerously thrilling like walking the line of love and hate, especially at weddings. You and Seokmin are addicted to it. ⋆˚✿WARNINGS: slight sexual content (making out and stuff, but no smut!)

ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @aeristudios ᯓ★ Delivered by: @orbitondgtl on 20th July

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── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #2 ☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆˚✿TITLE: Do Hate The Player ⋆˚✿PAIRING: rival e-sports player!wonwoo x rival e-sports player! fem!reader ⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Everyone knows Wonwoo as the most nonchalant member of the notable e-sports team — "GAM3BO1", however, they also know that Wonwoo only loses his cool with a particular hotshot member of the e-sports team, 'ST4RL1GHT'. You. When a variety game show brings the two teams together and expects you two to work together, there may be more to this rivalry that meets the normal viewer's eye. ⋆˚✿WARNINGS: swearing, reader is really competitive, some mean comments thrown here and there, everyone else on their team is lowkey (highkey) done with their shit

ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @jakedustry ᯓ★ Delivered by: @livmarauder on 23rd July

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── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #3 ☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆˚✿TITLE: Idiots At Work ⋆˚✿PAIRING: coworker!seungcheol x reader ⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: A heavy snowstorm + a blackout = the solution to your growing feelings for the ever so charming and popular, Seungcheol. ⋆˚✿WARNINGS: none, it's fluffy and cute

ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @gent1es3xy ᯓ★ Delivered by: @orbitondgtl on 27th July

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── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #4 ☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆˚✿TITLE: Under The Skin ⋆˚✿PAIRING: boyfriend! idol!jihoon x girlfriend! non-idol! fem!reader ⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Jihoon has never been good with emotions. Everyone know that he pours that into his life's work with Seventeen and you aren't the exception. When he starts working late and neglecting you for their newest comeback, your secret relationship starts to take a toll on you and all the negative thoughts start to swarm which makes you wonder if this relationship was ever worth it in the first place. ⋆˚✿WARNINGS: angst, swearing, forgetting of important dates, mentions of negative thoughts, self-doubt, jihoon being a little oblivious but he makes up for it in the end, stressed working environment, mentions of truth or dare game, mentions of food, mentions of drinks, mentions of consumption of food and drinks, small mention of movie character death (bambi's mother)

ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @cherry-zip ᯓ★ Delivered by: @livmarauder on 30th July

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── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #5 ☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆˚✿TITLE: Brain Less ⋆˚✿PAIRING: college student! bf!chan x college student! gf!reader ⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Chan is in desperate need of a distraction. You have the perfect solution to his problem. ⋆˚✿WARNINGS: SMUT (more to be added)

ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @luvrung ᯓ★ Delivered by: @orbitondgtl on 3rd August

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── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #6 ☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆˚✿TITLE: Lost In Translation ⋆˚✿PAIRING: idol!soonyoung x backup dancer! fem!reader ⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Hoshi's known for having one of the best stage presences in k-pop history with how confident he was and how much aura he holds on stage. Kwon Soonyoung on the other hand, is the complete opposite when he tries to talk to you, one of Minghao's dancer friends. When he finally works up the courage to, he realizes you can only understand Chinese and everyone begins to wonder how far his crush on you will take him, including himself. ⋆˚✿WARNINGS: slight mentions of self-doubt, mentions of consumption of food and beverages, mentions of wedding and yoon jeonghan being the biggest menace in the universe

ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @duhnuuuuwrites ᯓ★ Delivered by: @livmarauder on 6th August

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── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #7 ☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆˚✿TITLE: My Husband Is A Loser ⋆˚✿PAIRING: husband!seungkwan x wife!reader ⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: You love Seugnkwan in all his silly and annoying glory. Sometimes you just need to get back at him. ⋆˚✿WARNINGS: none, but I will be very funny in this

ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @cherrypickedxo ᯓ★ Delivered by: @orbitondgtl on 10th August

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── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #8 ☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆˚✿TITLE: Subliminal ⋆˚✿PAIRING: brother's best friend! fwb!joshua x fwb! fem!reader ⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Joshua Hong is known as the campus heartbreaker, once you get into bed with him or catch feelings for him, you are doomed. When you end up doing both and your brother finds out, you end your partnership with him before you meet your impending doom. However, it seems like Joshua has other plans in mind because he can't seem to let you go without a fight. ⋆˚✿WARNINGS: SMUT (more to be added)

ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @mellowgyu ᯓ★ Delivered by: @livmarauder on 13th August

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── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #9 ☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆˚✿TITLE: Food For Thought ⋆˚✿PAIRING: best friend!mingyu x chef!reader ⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Your usual food date with your best friend leads to a night you'll never forget. ⋆˚✿WARNINGS: SMUT (more to be added)

ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @cherrymayz ᯓ★ Delivered by: @orbitondgtl on 17th August

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── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #10 ☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆˚✿TITLE: MIA ⋆˚✿PAIRING: childhood best friend! idol!vernon x rockstar! fem!reader ⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Seventeen thinks Vernon might be a bit delusional sometimes, because why was he talking about you, a world renown rockstar as if he personally knew you? Even worse, why does he think he's dating you?! ⋆˚✿WARNINGS: none! a lot of crack humour, the guys "bullying" vernon, swearing, guy's being stupid (more to be added)

ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @mylovesstuffs ᯓ★ Delivered by: @livmarauder on 20th August

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── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #11 ☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆˚✿TITLE: Bubble Pop Electric ⋆˚✿PAIRING: rich guy! minghao x reader ⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: You have Minghao wrapped around your finger and he proves to you how much he loves it over and over again ⋆˚✿WARNINGS: SMUT! (more to be added)

ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @gentleisa ᯓ★ Delivered by: @orbitondgtl on 24th August

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── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #12 ☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆˚✿TITLE: Iridescence ⋆˚✿PAIRING: boyfriend!jeonghan x girlfriend! fem!reader ⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Jeonghan's always known that he wanted to marry you. It was as if it was written in the stars. However, when the day finally arrives to ask you to be his forever, everything that can go wrong, goes wrong. ⋆˚✿WARNINGS: swearing and making out! loads of panicking (more to bed added)

ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @hopecutie ᯓ★ Delivered by: @livmarauder on 27th August

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── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #13 ☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆˚✿TITLE: The Chronicles of a Girl Dad ⋆˚✿PAIRING: husband! idol!jun x wife! non-idol! fem!reader ⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Jun didn't think fatherhood would look like this... especially with him dressed as a pretty princess with blue eyeshadow and a tiara to a picnic that his daughters wanted. ⋆˚✿WARNINGS: none! loads of fluff and reader making fun of jun!

ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @nerdycheol ᯓ★ Delivered by: @orbitondgtl & @livmarauder on 31st August

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©livmarauder2026 & ©orbitondgtl If you would like to be tagged for this, do comment down below! All fics are 18+, despite whether there is r-rated content or not, which means blogs without age or age indicators will not be tagged!

You were standing outside the Charms corridor with your arms full of books, wishing you had asked Yunjin to carry half of them, when you almost crash into Rosalind, a pureblood Slytherin with a personal grudge against you because of your blood status. Great, out of everyone you could’ve bumped into, it just had to be her.

”Out of the way, Mudblood”, She says it quietly, under her breath, just loud enough that you hear it and quiet enough that no professor passing by would catch it.

You have had the word directed towards you several times before and by now you roughly knew how your body would respond to it: the small drop in your stomach, the heat that climbed up the back of your neck, and the practiced effort of keeping your face still so nobody gets the satisfaction of watching it land. You were already gathering yourself to take your books and keep walking when a voice, almost bored, comes from somewhere behind you.

"Didn't realize we were still doing that outdated shit."

You turn and so does Rosalind.

It was a boy from your year. You knew his name, though you had never really spoken to him beyond a passing greeting in the library. Vernon. He was simply standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking at Rosalind with a straight face.

Rosalind starts to say something about mixed company muddying the crowd. Vernon does not raise his voice. He only tilts his head slightly, eyebrow raised and says, "Funny. I was about to say the same about you."

Then he turns and walks away.

He does not glance back at her. He simply bends down to help you gather your books “Here you go”. You look at him with gratitude and your mouth opening and closing without any words coming out. “Oh..um, thanks..” He nods and walks down the corridor with the same unbothered pace he'd arrived in, his bag slung over one shoulder, and rounds the corner without a backward look.

You stand there for a long moment, too surprised and flustered, the books slipping slightly in your arms, feeling strangely undone. Not by the insult, you were already used to that. You were undone, instead, by the plainness of what he did. He didn't make a scene of it, nor tried to make himself the hero of the corridor. He just refused to let something ugly go unanswered.

That evening, you head to the library like you always do, intending to lose yourself in a Transfiguration essay and forget about the unpleasantness in the corridor. However, it does not work.

Every time your quill pauses, your thoughts drift back to him and you catch yourself searching the room before you even realize you're doing it.

He is there, seated near the window with a Herbology textbook open across his lap, entirely absorbed in whatever he is reading. The firelight catches against the side of his face as he turns a page, unaware that anyone is looking at him.

You find yourself watching for a moment longer than you probably should.

There is nothing especially different about him today. He is only sitting there, reading in comfortable silence.

...Was he always this cute?

The thought lands so suddenly that you nearly drop your quill.

"Absolutely not," you mutter under your breath, giving your own cheek a light smack before forcing your eyes back onto your essay. "We're not doing that."

Your face feels suspiciously warm anyway.

❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈

If someone asked you to name the exact day you and Vernon became friends, you would not be able to answer them. There is no single afternoon you can point to. It happened before you could realise.

It began, you think, with a seat.

You came down to the library carrying more parchment than you could comfortably hold, tired because of a double Potions lesson, and there is a seat near the window that seems to have been left empty despite the room being otherwise full. You sit without thinking much of it. It is only the following evening, when the same seat is empty again, that you glance up and catch Vernon sitting opposite to you, looking away too quickly, as though he had been watching the seat to see whether you would take it.

"Were you saving that for someone?" you ask.

"No, you can sit here" he says. Then, after a pause, he adds, "You always sit there anyway."

"I do?"

"You do."

“Oh, thanks Vernon”. You do not examine this too closely. You only sit down, and he goes back to his book with a nod in reply, and by the end of the week it has become, without either of you ever deciding it, the place where the two of you sat.

❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈

From there, things multiply slowly. He begins falling into step beside you on the walk to Herbology, without a word of greeting, as though the two of you had always walked together. In return, you begin saving him a place at the library table nearest the window.

You spend long stretches of time in silence together, and to your quiet surprise, you find that you do not mind it at all. He has a way of simply existing beside you that makes the quiet feel less like the absence of conversation and more like a kind of company all its own.

Neither of you ever calls any of this friendship out loud. It does not seem to need saying. It is simply what your days are shaped around now.

❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈

It is well into autumn before you catch yourself thinking something you immediately try to talk yourself out of.

You are in the library, having to sit at a table with a single same worn copy of a Transfiguration text owing to the upcoming exams. Without much options, the two of you squeeze into the table that was clearly meant for one person. Your shoulders brushing every time either of you turns a page. Beneath the table, your knees end up pressed together.

Neither of you shifts away. You are meant to be conjugating a difficult incantation, but for several long minutes you are far more aware of the warmth where his knee meets yours than you are of any of the words on the page in front of you.

You tell yourself this means nothing. Friends sit close together. It is a small table. There is nowhere else to put your legs.

"You don’t have to memorise the text, you know right?" His voice is quiet.

You blink, realizing you've been staring at the same paragraph for nearly a minute. "Y-yes I know."

"Wake me up when you’re done reading this page, Miss Sloth"

You nudge his shoulder with yours. "You're insufferable."

"So I've been told."

You find yourself chuckling despite yourself. At that sound, he looks up at you from the book. "Hold still."

Before you can ask why, his hand reaches across the narrow space between you, and his fingers brush lightly against your temple. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, eyes locked with yours as he does it. His thumb lingers for the briefest second against your cheek before he pulls away.

"There."

You stare at him, your breath catching slightly. What just happened

"What?"

"You had ink on your face."

"...That doesn't explain the hair,” you say under your breath.

"It was in the way." he says and simply returns to reading.

Meanwhile you spend the next several minutes pretending to study while your heartbeat refuses to settle. Do friends do that? Surely they do....don't they?

❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈

Vernon is running late after helping Professor Sprout with something in the greenhouses, leaving you alone long enough for Yunjin to slide into the seat across from you. She tears a piece off her toast before looking at you over the rim of her teacup.

"So," she says, far too casually, "how long have you and Vernon been together?"

You nearly inhale your pumpkin juice and a coughing fit takes over before you can answer.

"What?" you manage between coughs. "We aren't..." You shake your head, still trying to catch your breath. "We're just friends."

Yunjin opens her mouth to reply but instead, her eyes drift over your shoulder. You turn just as Vernon arrives, setting his bag beside him before sitting down next to you.

"You alright?" he asks, already reaching into his pocket and without waiting for an answer, he unfolds a neatly pressed handkerchief and places it in your hand. Then he pulls your empty goblet closer, fills it with water from the pitcher in the middle of the table, and nudges it gently toward you. "Here," he says quietly. "Drink slowly."

You mumble a small thank you, cheeks warming as you take the glass.

Only after you've stopped coughing does he begin serving himself breakfast as though nothing unusual had happened.

When Vernon looks away to butter his toast, Yunjin meets your eyes. One eyebrow lifts.

The expression is enough to let you know her exact thoughts. Sure. Just friends.

You look away first, having nothing to defend yourself anyway.

A few days later, you're leaving the library alone after returning a stack of books while Vernon waits outside for you.

As you're signing the register, Madam Pince glances over her spectacles. "Tell your boyfriend that if he's going to keep borrowing books on advanced Transfiguration, he ought to remember to return them on time."

You blink."My... boyfriend?"

"Mr. Chwe." She says matter-of-factly and stamps another return slip. "The two of you practically live in my library."

Heat crawls up your neck. "Oh... we're actually just friends."

Madam Pince pauses for exactly one second. "Hm." The noise is polite yet entirely unconvinced and she goes back to shelving books.

Outside, Vernon looks up the moment the library doors open. "There you are."

You leave feeling strangely embarrassed, just hoping that he doesn’t notice your blushing cheeks.

Later that week, you're waiting outside Charms while Vernon stays behind to ask Professor Flitwick a question.

Joshua happens to pass by. He slows when he notices you standing alone. "Waiting for Vernon?"

“Oh hello Joshua! Yes, he'll only be another minute."

Joshua smiles to himself. He adjusts the strap of his bag before adding, almost as an afterthought,

"I think it's kinda sweet"

"...What is?"

"The way you always wait for each other."

Your heart stumbles. "We're only friends Shua."

Joshua studies your face for a moment. Then, very gently, he asks, "Has he actually told you that?"

The question catches you completely off guard. Before you can ask what he means, Vernon steps out of the classroom.

Joshua's expression changes immediately. "Anyway," he says with an easy smile, "I'll see you both at dinner."

He walks away before you can stop him.

You spend the entire journey to the Great Hall thinking about those six words.

Has he actually told you that?

Told you what?

The strangest part isn't that people assume you're together. It's how naturally Vernon seems to fit into those assumptions without ever knowing they're happening. You begin to wonder, quietly, whether you are the only person at Hogwarts who is confused about what this actually is.

❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈

When Madam Pince finally announces the library is closing for lunch, Vernon gathers both of your books without asking and waits while you shove loose parchment into your bag. The corridors are crowded with all the students rushing towards the Great Hall. Without thinking, your fingers curl around the sleeve of his robe so you don't lose him in the sea of students. The moment you realize what you're doing, embarrassment floods your face and you let go. Before you could think much about it, his hand reaches your wrist to gently guide you through the crowd.

"Careful," he says as a group of third years barrels around the corner.

His fingers are warm on your wrist and you think he doesn't seem to notice what he’s doing. You are reading way too much into it…you notice far too much...

His hand stays there until the hallway opens into the courtyard. By the time he lets go, your skin still remembers his and you are beginning to think your heart has become deeply unreasonable.

Outside, the air has a sharp bite to it. You rub your hands together as the wind slips beneath your robes.

Without a word, Vernon unwinds the scarf from around his own neck and before you can protest, he loops it around your neck. His fingers brush beneath your chin as he straightens the ends. For one impossible moment, he is standing so close that all you can see is him. As he’s done with securing the scarf around your neck, his eyes lift to yours, offering you a small smile and suddenly you forget how to breathe.

Then he steps back as though nothing unusual has happened.

"I was fine," you manage to mumble out as you both continue walking. You spend the walk to the Great Hall trying to hide your smile into the scarf.

After lunch, the two of you drift back to the Ravenclaw common room to finish the assignment you had barely started. Claiming the sofa nearest the fire, you get comfortable on it trying to warm yourself up. Vernon walks behind you, removing his jumper and throws it casually on the armrest. You quickly lean over and grab it from the armrest, pulling it over your uniform. It hangs well past your fingertips.

He glances up once. "You've stolen another one."

"I’m just borrowing it. Please I think there’s a draft in here" you hug yourself, rubbing your hands on your arms.

"You said that about the last one too."

"I returned that."

"Yeah yeah, you did… only three weeks later."

You look away, unable to hide your grin. "It was too comfortable to return."

“Keep it” He only returns to his notes, completely unbothered, while you try to not look at him too much as you spend your time pretending to understand Ancient Runes.

❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈

Several hours pass as you both work on writing your assignments in silence. You stretch your arms up, fingers flexing as you let out a small yawn. “Finally...I managed to write a bit. Do you want to read it?”

“Hmm let me see” He shifts closer to read your essay over your shoulder and you become acutely aware of how close he is. Close enough to see the faint scar marking his eyebrow. Close enough to notice the way his lips part ever so slightly as he reads out your essay to himself.

“This looks like a good start” He looks at you.

His gaze is fixed on you and you wonder, absurdly, what would happen if neither of you looked away, what would happen if either of you leaned in just a bit closer. Your pulse pounds loudly against your throat as you struggle to get your head straight, unable to look away from the boy sitting beside you.

Your thoughts remain thoughts as Seungkwan enters with pumpkin tarts and the moment breaks. “Tarts for all!” He walks towards you both, and you shift slightly away from Vernon, clearing your throat. “Don’t forget to eat between your obnoxiously long study sessions” he says, offering you one.

Vernon reaches for another piece of tart on the plate, as though nothing had happened. Well nothing had, technically.

Poor you, now you will have to spend the rest of the evening wondering if you imagined the entire thing or not.

Thankfully, the portrait swings open before your thoughts can spiral any further, and Joshua walks in, balancing a stack of books against his hip.

"There you are," he says, walking towards the both of you.

“Didn’t I tell you we’d find them here” Seungkwan joins and takes a few books from Joshua, setting them on the table. "We checked the library, the courtyard, and even the Owlery.  We were actually beginning to think you had disappeared."

Joshua's gaze lands on you, then on the oversized jumper and then finally on Vernon. The corners of his mouth lift knowingly. "So this is where you've been hiding."

You hurriedly begin stacking your notes. "I should probably leave you three alone. You haven't seen each other all day."

Before you can stand properly, warm fingers wrap gently around your hand. Vernon looks at you with quiet confusion.

"Why would you leave? We were in the middle of something."

"I just thought you'd want to catch up with them."

His thumb shifts absentmindedly against your knuckles as he gives your hand a gentle tug. "Sit back down. We've still got half an essay left."

The gesture is so casual that it almost makes it worse. You sink back onto the sofa, hoping the warmth creeping into your cheeks isn't too obvious.

Across the room, Seungkwan watches the entire exchange before slowly turning to Joshua. "I'm not saying anything," he murmurs.

Joshua smiles to himself. "I wasn't going to, either."

They both take the armchairs opposite you and the conversation slips easily from homework to Quidditch to Seungkwan's latest complaint about Professor Binns. You find yourself laughing far more than you contribute.

Seungkwan glances around before lowering his voice. "Apparently Mingyu rejected someone today." Joshua looks up in surprise. "Really?" "Not intentionally though," Seungkwan corrects with a sigh. "A girl asked if he wanted to go to Hogsmeade with her this weekend and he just smiled and said, 'Sure. Who else is coming?'" Joshua groans, dropping his head into one hand. "No..." "By the time someone explained it to him, she was already halfway back to her common room."

Vernon lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Poor Mingyu." His smile is small, the corners of his eyes crinkling. You look away before he can catch you staring, but it doesn't really help. The warm feeling lingers deep inside your chest. Friends aren't supposed to make your heart race just by smiling. At least, you don't think they are.. Or I have been doing friendship wrong for years?

You do not say any of this to him. You are not entirely sure your voice would survive it anyways.

❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈

Finally the gruelling exam is over and you were on your way to find Vernon after your last class of the day, a habit so worn into the shape of your afternoons now that your feet carry you toward the usual courtyard without your having to think about it, when you hear his voice drifting from around the corner. He was talking to someone you did not recognize, his tone easy and unhurried like it always was.

You slow without meaning to. It’s not like you were trying to eavesdrop. You simply catch, as you pass, a question you do not quite hear the whole of, and then Vernon's answer, plain and unmistakable.

"Yeah. I've got a girlfriend."

You stop walking. Whatever comes after that sentence, if anything comes after it at all, never reaches you, because your ears have gone strange and rushing, and your feet were already carrying you backward before you have consciously chosen to move.

A girlfriend.

Not you. It cannot be you, because you have spent months insisting, to anyone who would listen, that the two of you were only friends, and he must have believed you, and so he must have found someone else in all this time, someone you know nothing about, someone he speaks of so easily and so plainly that it must have been true for a while now.

You do not stop to reason any of this through properly. You only turn and walk the other way, the scarf, his scarf, wound tight around your throat as though it might hold in whatever sound is trying to climb up out of your chest, and you do not look back to see whether he noticed you were ever there at all.

❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈

You begin finding reasons not to be where he expects you.

You take your meals early or late, timed carefully around whatever hour you know he will be elsewhere. You study in an empty classroom near the greenhouses instead of your usual table by the library window, and when Madam Pince notices the table sitting empty for the first time in months, she says nothing to you directly, though you catch her frowning at it once, as though the silence itself has become suspicious to her.

You give Vernon short, clipped answers whenever he catches you in a corridor. Busy. Sorry. Can't, essay's due. You do not look at him properly when you say these things, afraid of what your face might give away if you do.

He does not chase you down, not at first. He has never been the sort to make a scene, and some distant, grateful part of you is glad of that even as another part of you, unreasonably, wishes he would corner you and demand to know what is wrong, so that you would not have to be the one to say it first.

Instead, he only grows quieter. You catch him watching you sometimes from across the Great Hall, an expression on his face you have never seen there before. Not hurt, exactly, but something close to it.

Yunjin finds you in your dormitory a week into it, arms folded, entirely unimpressed with your excuses. "What happened?" she asks, "Don't tell me nothing happened because I'm not buying that for a second."

"Nothing happened," you say, which is nearly true, since nothing happened to you directly. You only overheard something you were never meant to hear, and it happened to break something in your chest that you had not realized could break so easily.

Yunjin sighs and sits down on the edge of your bed. "He asked me where you were after Charms yesterday," she says, gentler now. "Then this morning he wanted to know if you'd skipped breakfast because he hadn't seen you in the Great Hall. I don't think he has the faintest idea what's going on."

You do not answer that. You pull your knees up to your chest and stare at the wall, thinking miserably that of course he does not know, since the thing that is wrong is a girlfriend you are not supposed to know about at all. A whole life he apparently has that has nothing to do with you.

You keep the scarf anyway. You tell yourself you will return it eventually. You do not take off the hoodie either, and you find yourself crying quietly into the sleeve of it more than once, which is exactly the sort of thing you had promised yourself you would not become.

You avoid him for eleven days, but god does it feel a good deal longer than that.

❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈

Vernon doesn't go looking for you immediately. For the first few days, he assumes you are simply busy. But by the end of the week, he isn't so sure.

Joshua looks up from his book when Vernon drops onto the sofa opposite him in the Ravenclaw common room. He watches him for a moment before quietly closing the book over a finger to keep his place.

"You've been unusually quiet all evening," he says. "You haven't turned that page in the last ten minutes."

Vernon glances down at the open textbook resting forgotten in his lap before letting out a slow breath. "I don't think she's very happy with me."

Joshua studies him carefully. "What makes you say that?"

"She's been leaving before I can catch up after class. She doesn't come to the library anymore, and every time I ask if she wants to study together, she already has somewhere else to be." He pauses, his brow drawing together slightly. "She even tried to give my scarf back."

Joshua's expression softens. "Did something happen between you two? Did you argue about anything?"

Vernon shakes his head. "Not that I know of. I've been trying to think if I said something that upset her, but... I can't remember anything."

Joshua leans back against the sofa. "Have you actually asked her what's wrong?"

"I asked if she'd been sleeping enough," Vernon replies earnestly. "Then I asked whether she'd skipped lunch because she hadn't been in the Great Hall. Yesterday I asked if she was coming down with a cold."

Joshua waits for him to continue. When nothing else comes, he can't help smiling.

"Vernon... those aren't really the questions I meant. They're thoughtful questions, just not the important ones."

A small crease appears between Vernon's brows, before he can reply, the portrait swings open.

Seungkwan steps into the common room carrying two oversized mugs of hot chocolate. He takes one look at Joshua's amused expression and Vernon's troubled one before raising an eyebrow. "...Why do I feel like I walked into something?"

Joshua gestures toward Vernon. "Him."

Seungkwan crosses the room, hands one mug to Vernon, and drops into the armchair opposite them. "Alright," he says. "Start from the beginning."

Vernon recounts the past week with the same straightforward honesty he applies to everything else.

Seungkwan's teasing smile slowly disappears and the room falls quiet. Joshua and Seungkwan exchange a glance. Neither of them seems particularly convinced by anything they've just heard.

Finally, Seungkwan lets out a small sigh. "I think she's trying to tell you something."

Vernon looks between the two of them. "What?"

Joshua gives him an apologetic smile. "I honestly don't know."

"And neither do you," Seungkwan adds. "You've been trying to figure it out by yourself all week."

Vernon lowers his eyes to the untouched mug warming his hands. "So... what am I supposed to do?"

Joshua answers first. "You stop guessing."

Seungkwan nods. "And you stop asking whether she's eaten lunch."

Joshua smiles too before leaning forward. "Just find her. Sit down with her, and ask what's been bothering her. Then actually listen to the answer."

Vernon is quiet for a long moment, turning the advice over in his mind. Finally, he nods.

"...Alright." He sets the mug down on the table beside him and rises to his feet. "I'll go talk to her."

❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈

He finds you, eventually, in the courtyard beneath the beech tree, the same place you used to meet every morning before all of this fell apart. You are sitting with your knees drawn up, your face turned toward the lake so that he will not immediately see you have been crying.

He does not say anything at first. He simply lowers himself down beside you, close but not quite touching, and waits patiently, just as he waits for most things.

You break the silence before he does. "I'm sorry," you say, your voice trembling from the very first word. "I know I've been avoiding you. I know that wasn't fair to you. I should've just talked to you instead of disappearing like that."

He watches you quietly. "Okay," he says after a moment, his voice careful, almost cautious. "Can you tell me why you were avoiding me?"

A watery laugh escapes you. "I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you. A couple of weeks ago, in the corridor. You were talking to that Ravenclaw boy."

He nods slowly, trying to remember.

"You said you've got a girlfriend."

Something shifts across his face, surprise perhaps. Whatever it was, you could not quite tell.

"And I didn't hear anything after that," you continue before you lose your nerve. "I didn't need to."

Your voice catches slightly, as you try to get the words out before breaking into another sob. Well, here it goes "I've been in love with you for months, Vernon. I don't even know when it happened exactly. It just... did. Somewhere between spending time together, it stopped feeling like friendship to me."

You laugh weakly through your tears. "I thought maybe you felt something too... I thought maybe it meant something to you as it did to me."

"And then I heard you say that." You shake your head.

The words come more quietly now. "So I figured I just had imagined everything. I thought I'd built an entire relationship in my head while you already had someone else."

"I kept thinking maybe if I stayed away long enough..." You wipe hurriedly at your face "...eventually it would stop hurting."

You let out a shaky breath. “But it didn't."

"I just wanted you to know why I've been avoiding you. I know you have a girlfriend, and I won't make things awkward anymore. I'll stop borrowing your things. I'll stop following you around after class." You manage a small, miserable smile. "I'll leave you alone."

Vernon has gone very still. He looks at you for several seconds, his brow slowly drawing together. "Wait." His voice is quiet.

"I'm trying to understand."

You look up at him, sniffling as you keep wiping your cheeks.

"You heard me say I have a girlfriend”

"...Yes."

"That's why you've been avoiding me."

"Vernon, I don't think that's the important part."

"No," he says gently. "I think it is." He lets out a slow breath, almost sounding relieved. "We've been talking about two completely different things."

You stare at him. "What are you talking about?"

"When I said I've got a girlfriend..." He says it with certainty, walking closer to you, "I meant you."

For a long moment, neither of you says anything at all.

"What," you croak out, "are you talking about?"

He looks at you with genuine confusion now. It wasn’t the look of bewilderment of someone who has no idea what's happening but more like that of confusion of someone realizing an assumption he had quietly lived with for months had never been shared.

He glances down at his hands before looking back at you.

"I gave you my scarf because I hated seeing you shiver. I left my jumpers with you because you always looked prettier wearing them."

A small, almost embarrassed smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"I walked you back to your dorm every night because I wanted to know you got there safely. I waited for you after class because I liked being the first person you looked for when the lesson ended. I made your tea every morning because I remembered how you liked it, and I saved you a seat because I couldn't really imagine sitting there without you."

"None of that means we were dating Vernon."

"What does it mean, then."

"It means we're friends," you say, though even to your own ears the word sounds thinner than it used to, worn down under the weight of everything he has just listed out. "Friends do all of that."

"Do they." He looks at you with genuine, earnest confusion, his brow furrowed as though you just told him the most absurd thing ever "I've never done any of that with a friend before."

"Vernon, you never asked me. None of it was ever official."

"I didn't think I needed to ask," he says quietly. "When people called you my girlfriend...I never corrected them because I thought you had already become that."

The silence between you stretches only for a moment. Then he smiles, small and sheepish. "I just didn't realize that I never actually told you."

You stare at him and your heart feels impossibly full.

"You are," you say, shaking your head through a laugh through the tears, "the biggest idiot I have ever met."

"I've been told that before."

"No," you murmur, stepping closer until there's barely any space left between you. "For someone so smart," you whisper, "you can be unbelievably stupid."

"So I've heard."

"Vernon."

"Hm?"

"Please...just shut up and kiss me already."

His answering smile is so warm it almost steals your breath before he ever touches you. He closes the distance slowly, giving you every chance to change your mind, and when his mouth finally meets yours it is not hurried at all. It is careful, almost searching at first, as though he wants to memorize the exact shape of the moment before he lets himself sink into it. One of his hands stays cradled against your jaw, his thumb moving in a slow, absent stroke along your cheekbone. The other slides to your waist, drawing you closer without any urgency behind it, only warmth. You feel the small, involuntary breath he takes when your fingers curl into his hair, feel him smile faintly against your mouth before he kisses you again, slower this time, like you had all the time in the world.

When you finally part, just barely, your foreheads still resting together, neither of you move to pull away. His breath is unsteady like you have never heard from him before, and you find that undoes you more than the kiss itself did.

When he pulls away, his forehead rests lightly against yours. “Will you officially be my girlfriend?”

You look at him properly then, the way you have not quite let yourself in eleven days, “I think this question was long overdue.”

He laughs then, properly this time, soft and warm, and something about hearing that sound after eleven miserable days makes your eyes sting all over again.

“Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend” You close your eyes, burrowing your face into his chest. For the first time in eleven long days, everything feels uncomplicated again.

The lake ripples quietly beyond the beech tree, and the last of the afternoon sunlight spills gold across the grass around you.

You stay there together until the air begins to cool, holding each other as though nothing had changed. Perhaps because, in Vernon's mind, nothing really had.

The only difference was that now, at last, the two of you understood the same story.

❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈

You come down to breakfast the next morning still half convinced you have dreamed the whole thing, until you spot Vernon already seated at the Hufflepuff table, saving you your usual place beside him like he always has, and your cheeks warm all over again at the sight of him.

You sit down. He does not look up from his toast right away, and then, without any ceremony at all, he slides half of it onto your plate, exactly the way he has done a hundred mornings before, and lays a peck on your cheek, "Morning, girlfriend."

You very nearly choke on your pumpkin juice for the second time this term. He glances up at last, and there it is again, that small, fond, faintly smug curve at the corner of his mouth.

Yunjin, across the table, does not even glance up from her eggs. "Finally," she says, to no one in particular, and returns to her breakfast as though nothing at all has changed, because as far as she and everyone else at Hogwarts are concerned, nothing has.

End.

📖 Before you leave Owl's Library, consider returning this record to the shelves with a reblog so other readers may find it.

You tuck your face into his chest so no one will recognize you in case you get caught.

"Nothing exciting. Groceries and sleep," another says. "You?"

Chan's chest rises and falls rapidly. You rest a hand on top of his heart and rub your thumb along his shirt. Gradually, his heartbeat slows a fraction.

You smile into his chest while he presses a silent kiss to your head. His hands rub your waist as you both listen to the footsteps pause.

"Pretty much the same except I have to visit my sister too," the first one replies with a laugh.

"What's up with your sister?" the other asks. There's a clunking sound, and you figure one of them got something from the vending machine.

"It's her birthday."

"Ah, wish her a happy birthday for me."

"Will d…"

Their voices and footsteps fade slowly as they leave.

A full minute passes until Chan releases a deep breath. You peer up at him for the first time, and despite having been in a precarious situation, a small giggle escapes your lips. A rush of excitement and fondness floods your body. There's always a thrill of doing something forbidden, and kissing your idol coworker definitely falls under that category.

Chan smiles and joins in your soft laughter.

"You're so cute," he murmurs while reaching out to cup your cheeks. He pulls you close and slots his lips with yours. It's embarrassing how quickly you melt into his muscular body. You hold onto his wrists to keep yourself upright.

"Congratulations, Channie," you whisper after you pull away for air.

"My number one supporter." He kisses you again. Slow, deep, and knee-buckling.

"I dunno about that," you respond. There are his brothers and his fans who cheer him on just as much as you.

"I do," he says. "And to say thanks, how about a date this weekend, baby?"

"Don't you have practice?" you wonder, sliding your hands up his arms to circle his neck.

"I do, but I'd still like to take you somewhere," he says.

"If you insist," you say, "but I'm treating you!"

Chan shakes his head and rubs his thumb along your bottom lip. "You can treat me with more kisses."

"That doesn't count!"

"Well, there's no way I'm letting these pretty hands"—he grabs your hands from around his neck—"touch your wallet. Not when I'm around."

You roll your eyes playfully. "We'll see."

Chan laughs and looks at you challengingly.

"We will," he says, followed by a short kiss. "We'd better get back now. I'll wait a bit before I come in."

You nod, then slip from the shadows.

By the time Chan comes back, the rest of the members are waiting to give a final thanks to their fans.

"Dino!" Seokmin exclaims.

"Sorry," Chan answers and joins his team on the corner.

Soonyoung grabs him around the shoulders and shuffles him in frame. He hugs his brother affectionately.

"You didn't get lost, did you?" he teases the youngest.

Chan smiles and shakes his head. "No. Just had to celebrate with something sweet."

"Did you eat it already? Was it good?" Wonwoo asks.

For a second, Chan's eyes snag on yours from across the room. The mischievous glint in his eyes has your cheeks warming before he even speaks.

Chan smiles. "It was really good."

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