𝗪𝗢𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗗 ♡ Victon Imagines

SEJUN • Deadline Kisses

Deadline Kisses

rom-com, 5.4k words

∞

Y/N Kim hated Lim Sejun.

Not in the throw-a-chair-across-the-room kind of way because that was too theatrical. No, hers was a slow-burn, tweet-sarcastic-subtext-while-sipping-coffee, roll-your-eyes-every-time-he-trends-on-
Twitter kind of hate. The man was smug, cynical, and annoyingly attractive for someone who killed off his main characters like it was nothing. He wrote bestsellers with titles like Thirteen Pages of Her Name and Morrow’s End and strutted through the literary world like he owned irony.

And now she was stuck with him.

In a cabin.

For five days.

To write a story. 

Together. 

For a Valentine’s Day anthology.

She already felt the blood pressure rising.

Y/N stepped inside the cabin, the scent of cedarwood hitting her like a bad metaphor. Her boots left faint marks on the wooden floor, wet from melting snow. She paused in the entryway, adjusting her bag on her shoulder and mentally reviewing the seven affirmations she’d recited in the Uber ride here.

Be professional. Be graceful. Don’t stab him with a pen.

Sejun didn’t even look up as she walked in.

“Let me guess,” he said, fingers flying across his keyboard, posture slouched like a man allergic to structure. “You brought a color-coded outline, six playlists, and a candle that smells like angst?”

Y/N dropped her bag by the door with more force than necessary. “Let me guess, you plan to wing the plot, insult every romantic trope, and pretend you don’t secretly read Hearts Aflame under your covers when no one’s watching?”

That got his attention.

He turned toward her, finally. Smirk fully engaged, like he’d been waiting for the moment she’d bite.

“Touché,” he said, leaning back in the chair like this was some chess match and she’d just made a mildly impressive move. “Nice to see you haven’t lost your edge.”

She walked past him and surveyed the room. Rustic charm, sure. Fireplace, open kitchen, two desks already set up by the window. And, of course, one couch.

Great. If she had to sleep near him, she might actually need that pen.

She dropped her coat over the back of the empty chair and crossed her arms.

“Let’s set some ground rules,” she said.

“By all means, Sergeant Kim.”

“One: no killing off any characters unless we agree on it.”

“Fine. Two: no spontaneous soulmates or fate-based kisses without a build-up.”

Cassie narrowed her eyes. “Three: no smug commentary while I’m writing.”

“Four: no passive-aggressive tea breaks where you judge me in silence.”

“I don’t drink tea. I drink coffee. Black, like my patience.”

Sejun grinned. “This is going to be fun.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what was more irritating: the fact that he was enjoying this or the fact that part of her, the deeply competitive part, was too.