cheoliedarling

[cheoliedarling]

A little ramble before I sleep, im going to eventually write how an LI would react to MC overworking

Bc i have it stuck in my head that rafayel would act like a cat and steal the laptop until working is not an option

Or like how sylus would probably carry you with your laptop and drag you bed

Or how maybe zayne would doctor you to bed

Idk yet but like i kinda want that in my life

[cheoliedarling]

Also, my opinion, so please don’t take this as law: Sylus is a soft dom. I mean, what’s new, right? But a soft dom doesn’t solely take care of you in the bedroom.

He’s there to knock that energy drink out of your hand first thing in the morning and to replace it with a jug of water because “Your body needs water, sweetheart. Not 29 grams of sugar straight out of your dreams.”

You forget to eat? Cool. He sits you down at a cafe, boring holes into your skull until you finish your entire sandwich. Fruit and drink, too. He might reward you with a brownie if you don’t get distracted by your phone.

You’re up doomscrolling at 3 in the morning? No. Absolutely not. Your phone’s on the floor faster than you can protest, and he’s wrapping you up in your comforter like a straitjacket until you fall asleep. Sleep, or he’ll haunt you with the song of his people.

Why are you walking on that side of the sidewalk? Don’t you know that’s his place, closest to the street?

What the fuck are you opening your own door for? Did he tell you that was alright?

He doesn’t outwardly show his annoyance. Not typically. But a vein visibly pulses on his temple and in his hand when you try to pump gas into your car—the car you tried to drive in his stead.

The bedroom antics are a reflection of every little way you defied him by trying to do things typically assigned to him, yourself. You’re pleasantly ✨wrecked✨ by the time he’s done with you.

[cheoliedarling]

One of these days im gonna post a nonmc x lads fanfic

[cheoliedarling]

🫣

[cheoliedarling]

Guys imagine, non mc is their soulmate, the one who owns half of their soul in every Life time. But they don't know that and forget their love for non mc and they fall in love with mc instead of her in every life time.

It's because non mc is cursed by Astra (instead of Zayne) so she suffers in every life watching them fall in love with mc. Like if she works as a hunter Xavier notices her and feels like she's someone that he should be devoted to but the curse activates and blocks his mind so he goes to mc.

If she works at Akso hospital as a nurse , as much as she tries to engage with Zayne he won't talk to her and have lunch with mc or hang out with her. But at night he suffers from nightmares where a faceless girl walks with him and dies at the end so horribly by his evol that he gets reminded of you.

If she is a secretary to Rafayel he playfully chats with her, hangs out with her- hell he won't even notice that his soul is responding to her because of the bond like a clueless fish, so when he sees mc he immediately forgot about her entirely .

If she is a sidekick to sylus, she slowly avoids him but like a fool when he looks at her she melts in his gaze knowing that she will be hurt when mc arrives. So she Just watches her dragon is loving another instead of his sorceress.

If she works at farspace fleet , yea Caleb is cold to her. But something in his body is always yearning for her. So she lets him, but when mc arrives she is thrown aside.

So when she finally ends that bond by cutting the red thread all of them feels like their heart gets crushed by the force only then their memories returns.

Xavier was killing wanderers as usual with mc but suddenly he fell down his knees and clutched his heart like his soul was tores into pieces. He starts to remember. The girl who died in his arms at Philos gifting him the star tassel , the girl who became a queen to feed his planet it was not mc it was her. The one he always looks at does not talk. His soulmate. So he rushes to her apartment only to find it empty. Why?

Zayne was working with his documents when suddenly his breath got hitched, his head felt like splitting. Slowly, steadily he sits on the chair gripping the edge of the table. Memories flood into his brain like a dam, he finally remembers the faceless girl in his dreams, the one died horribly at the tower by his evol, the one who symbolises his jasmine. Opening the door he rushes into the busy hallway to find her but bumps into Grayson. Zayne gripped his shoulders and asked about non mc but his heart got dropped when Grayson questioned him. "Who is non-mc? She's a nurse at Akso hospital? What are you saying Zayne there's no one working here in that name."

Rafayel was sitting by the beach to escape from Thomas, he looked at the sea and sighed softly. Suddenly he feels that. His bond disappeared suddenly, he got startled for a second so he called mc to check if she was ok. But to his surprise he didn't feel the bond when he talked to her. He suddenly groaned from the pain and gripped his hair. Back when the god of tides bonded to his priestess but forgots her when he met mc because of the curse and betrayed his homeland. He remembers that. He remembers non mc. He looked at Thomas who was running in his way. "Rafayel! Get up-" ,"where is non mc?" Thomas looked at him with a confused gaze, "what are you blabbering? Did you forget that we are hiring a secretary for you? Get up!"

Sylus walks into the mission with the twins behind them from the auction. He expects your presence to greet him when he comes back just like you always did. His eyes widened when he felt that his heart was splitting from the pain. The twins noticed this immediately and grabbed his shoulders. "Boss! Are you ok!?" Years of pain came to him, his sorceress, the curse, how he forgot his sorceress that he was searching for eons and gave his attention to someone else? His sorceress was always standing beside him but he only noticed that when you break the bond. "Luke, Kieran bring non mc to me", "Boss who is that?"

Now caleb. Alright, the colonel was at his home which was in skyhaven going through documents. He checked his phone every two minutes expecting a call or message from his new soldier but he didn't. That's when he felt the agonizing pain. He knows. He knows. He fucking finally remembers who was the girl besides him at his childhood when they were experimenting on him. Who was the girl that always holds his hand so he won't cry in his sleep. Who was the girl that he failed to protect when ever ripped you off from him. The next day he checked every possible place that you could be, but he couldn't find you. When he goes to your dorm he was surprised to find out that it was vacant for 2 months and no one's been there.

Why? What happened to non-mc?

She got erased from the universe. Because when she cuts the thread she knows that she won't be here anymore so to end this pain she does it.

Why? Love is always cruel to us?

So the roles got reversed.

Now they are the one who's with the memories of you, while you are playing the game as a player. Now in this life they are just a dating sim to you. But sometimes you notice that they don't talk about their scripted dialogues or how they look at you with the longing eyes. How they wanted to break off the fourth wall to touch you, to give you the love you deserve, wanting your forgiveness for making you wait for them. If this is their fate, they will definitely change it.

They will definitely break the fourth wall to bring you to their world, like before and gets their happy ending.

Can they?

This is just an idea that came randomly to me. So if any of you want to make a fic using this idea please do!!

[cheoliedarling]

only angel

summary: on paper, you and joshua hong are the perfect rivals, heirs to competing companies, each primed to outshine the other. what a pity you can’t seem to get enough of each other behind closed doors.

⇢ pairing: rich kid!joshua hong x rich kid!fem!reader ⇢ contains: smut (semi-public sex, oral sex, protected sex, fingering, dirty talk, exhibitionism, overstimulation), fluff, rivals to lovers au, friends with benefits au, rich kid au, profanity, implied misogyny, alcohol consumption, the nickname “angel”—please let me know if i’ve missed anything! ⇢ word count: 4.7k ⇢ note: title is taken from harry styles’ only angel.

“I’m just saying, if we want to see other people, we should.”

You roll your eyes. From your position on the bed—curled-up, facing Joshua—he looks sleep-drunk and honey-sweet. You can’t really say that to him without sounding like a sap, so you kiss the corner of his mouth instead. He hums, low and satisfied.

“What was that for?” he asks. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“So that every time you see another girl, you remember that my kisses are way better.” You let a slow smile spread across your face.

“That’s… possessive,” Joshua says, sounding mildly impressed. “And kind of toxic.”

He leans forward this time, brushing his lips against yours. Strictly speaking, you and Joshua have no reason to be so tender with each other. Intimacy is a rarity you can’t afford.

“Are you interested in seeing someone else?” you ask, when he pulls away.

A laugh ripples through his chest, and you grin impishly up at him. “Seeing people, yeah. Fucking them, no,” he says.

“I won’t stop you even if you do fuck other people.”

“How considerate.” His smile is teasing, but you’re not joking. 

Your relationship with Joshua Hong would cause a scandal unlike any other if word got out—and rightfully so. Your family has always been at constant odds with the Hongs, continuously trying to one up each other. As some of the biggest business conglomerates in the country, competition between the two companies was inevitable, but you certainly didn’t expect it to attain the level of aggression it has reached now. You and Joshua often joke that you’re like Romeo and Juliet, minus the idiocy of ingesting poison and the whole falling in love part. 

While the rest of your family and business associates do their best to eliminate their rivals once and for all, somehow you and Joshua didn’t get the memo.

Secrecy is a must in your situation. Only a select few people are aware of the illicit nature of the relationship between Pledis Industries’ doted-upon child and Hong Holdings’ golden boy. Even then, you’re careful, hiding your comings and goings from your parents and superiors. You usually make up some excuse—you were out with your friends, you went on an impromptu day trip—something to make them stop sniffing your trail. 

By all logic, you and Joshua should hate each other as well. But he’s a charming guy, objectively attractive, and more than that, he’s fantastic in bed. One formal event and too many glasses of champagne later, you found yourselves scurrying off to a deserted room, as though you were teenagers trying to sneak out during a school trip. It’s been a few months since then, but this arrangement has lasted.

So, logically speaking, all this small talk and commitment is utterly unnecessary. You’re not searching for any new guys to fuck, but if Joshua wants to fuck other people… Well. That’s his choice.

“You see people every day,” you remind him.

“Your point is?”

You move closer to him, throwing a leg over one of his. His cock twitches. You grin and reach down, splaying your fingers over his bare abdomen. He hisses at the contact, quickly tugging the blanket off. 

“My point is,” you whisper, rubbing your thumb against the soft patch of hair that’s right above his groin, “I’ll see you tonight at the launch event, Mr. Hong. Do try not to get your dick wet until then.”

“You’re evil, you know that?” Joshua whines, fingers curling into his palm.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, fishing underneath the covers for your bra and panties. The lacy lingerie secured a few attempts later, you stand up and stretch your arms lazily. The horizon is tinged light pink; the glass door that leads to the balcony reflects the sun’s earliest rays. The city is just barely awake. Five o’clock in the morning on a Saturday lies somewhere on the threshold between dawn and night, and it’s a good thing no one you’ve come to the convention with will be awake now, after all the drinks they’ve had the night before. 

“One of my better charms,” you reply flippantly to Joshua’s previous comment. 

You fasten your bra and quickly pull up your underwear. Bending down to pick up your discarded clothes—a formal skirt and blouse—you know Joshua Hong is already staring blatantly at your ass. 

Sure enough, when you turn around, you find him watching you dress with his mouth hung open and a dazed look in his eyes. This might be your favourite part of your excursions, you think: Driving Joshua Hong mad. You once asked him why he liked seeing you dress up again so much, and he cheekily said that he loved imagining undressing you all over again. It had made heat flush your cheeks, and he had laughed at seeing you so flustered.

Now, it gives you a weird sense of delight, because more often than not, you leave Joshua with a hard-on and a curt order to not touch himself. Whether he actually complies or not, you don’t know, but you’re satisfied anyway.

“You should sleep in for a bit,” you tell him, once you’re fully-dressed. You run a hand through your unruly hair in an attempt to detangle it. 

In the light of the day, Joshua’s hotel room is a lot more… fuller. In the dark, all you did was grope about, pray you didn’t stub your toe on something and clutch the back of Joshua’s shirt like it was a lifeline while he fumbled to find the lamp on the bedside table. With crumpled sheets, a half-opened suitcase by the plush armchair, and an empty mug of instant coffee on the table in front of it, it looks lived-in—a weird contrast to yours. You prefer keeping your hotel room pristine because you feel strangely guilty giving the hotel staff more work to do.

Joshua yawns. “So should you. The conference isn’t until seven in the evening, no one’s going to be awake.”

“I… need to prepare for my speech,” you say. It’s a lie—you’ve practised your speech so many times, you know it verbatim now—but you’re absolutely paranoid at the thought of someone accidentally finding you and Joshua together.

And then you’d be forced to stay away from him, and what good would that do? It would cause more misery than you want it to.

“Oh.” Joshua perks up. “You’re presenting today? Good luck.”

“Thanks, Joshua.” You smile. “I’ll see you in the evening.”

“Yeah, alright.”

You clutch your shoes in your hand—it’s too early to prance about in high heels—and twist the knob on the door. Joshua, ever the suave gentleman, winks at you raunchily before you roll your eyes and shut the door behind you. 

The carpeted hallway is soft against your bare feet. You can hear the distant whirring of one of those big carpet-cleaning machines further away. You quicken your pace; your room is one floor below Joshua’s and you can’t risk getting caught, even by the hotel staff, so close to the Gojo heir’s room. The lights cast a soft glow throughout the gilded walls, making the abstract art paintings pinned up shimmer. A vase with dried-up roses sits prettily on a marble-topped table as you round the corner towards the staircase.

You quickly descend the steps two at a time, nearly running straight into a waiter holding a tray with a pot of coffee aloft. You give him an apologetic smile and a shrug when he glances at your haphazard state, as though to say Well, what can you do? and head on over to your room. Thankfully, you don’t run into anyone else along the way.

You swipe your keycard against the lock and push your door open. Dropping the heels on the floor, you let out a relieved sigh. First things first: you’re going to brush your teeth and take a nice, long shower. You think about the dress you’ve planned to wear for the evening and smile.

Joshua Hong is going to love it.

Your speech was a resounding success. 

Despite being one of the few women speakers invited to the conference, you refused to hang your head low. Yes, you might have gotten to the position you’re at only because of your parents, but that doesn’t mean you’re good at your job. You delivered every line perfectly.

You deserve a reward.

The grand ballroom shimmers under the glow of crystal chandeliers, the soft hum of conversation interspersed with the gentle clink of champagne glasses. You glide through the sea of tailored suits and designer dresses, exchanging pleasantries with industry leaders and dignitaries. You’re here as a representative of Pledis Industries—and, by extension, your mother and father. Connections are vital, and you can’t be caught slacking.

Your gown, sleek and fitted, feels like a second skin, catching the light just right as you move—enough to draw eyes, enough to give off an air of importance. Your makeup is light, only accentuating your best features. You’re the talented daughter of one of the country’s richest CEOs; your image should come off as authentic and empathetic.

But there’s only one gaze you can feel lingering on you from the moment you stepped off the stage, and it’s Joshua’s.

You pause, taking a sip of your almost-finished drink. Your conversation with Kim Taehyung—a famous businessman—about philanthropic organisations is intriguing, and it’s a good chance to network and earn some favour. But even though Taehyung is smart and intelligent, and extremely good-looking (he looks like a Greek statue carved by the Gods; you’re slightly envious of his jawline), you can’t stop yourself from trying to catch Joshua’s gaze. You wore this dress for him, after all.

He meets your eyes from where he stands, leaning against the bar, looking effortlessly elegant in his tailored suit. His hair is combed back, a few strands falling across his forehead, and he sips from a glass of some dark liquid, raising it slightly like it’s a toast. A small, knowing smile tugs at his lips, before it’s quickly replaced by the polite, blank expression both of you have perfected over the years—though his eyes twinkle just the same. It sends a wave of warmth straight to your chest and down your navel.

Swallowing down the last of your champagne, you place it on a nearby table and excuse yourself. You can’t linger in his stare for too long; that would only be giving yourself away. Joshua tilts his head, and you know what he wants. 

You make your way to a quieter, less crowded part of the ballroom, near one of the staff rooms. Just as you prepare to slip out through one of the side doors, a hand grabs your wrist, and you’re yanked into the quiet, dimly lit space. The door clicks shut behind you. Joshua’s body is pressed flush against yours. 

“Did you wear that just to drive me insane?” he murmurs, breath ghosting over your ear.

You can’t help the smirk that tugs at your lips—you knew he would love this colour on you—but your words falter when his hand slides over the curve of your waist, fingers teasing the slit of your dress. 

“You’re not the only one in the room,” you manage to say. “Maybe I dressed up for the crowd. There are tons of eligible bachelors out there.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Kim Taehyung,” you say, startled by your own boldness.

Joshua’s eyes widen with momentary surprise. “Is he why you brought up the idea of seeing other people this morning?”

“God, no.” You swallow. “Not at all.”

His lips ghost over your neck, the slightest hint of a chuckle escaping him. “You love getting fucked by me,” he whispers, his hand traveling further down, gripping your thigh, pulling your leg to the side as he presses himself against you. “You just like to make me remind you.”

Your breath hitches when he yanks your leg up around his waist, the fabric of your gown slipping higher, exposing more skin to his wandering touch. You place your hands on his shoulders for balance.

“You were amazing, you know,” he continues, lips a hair’s breadth away from yours. “Couldn’t take my eyes off you. My gorgeous angel.”

“What do I get for it?” you whisper back.

“Oh? So greedy,” he says, rubbing circles on the bare skin of your thigh. “I’ll give you what you want, don’t worry.”

Joshua’s promise makes heat pool in your stomach, and you crash your lips with his. His tongue slips through your parted mouth. You tangle your fingers in his hair, messing up his careful hairstyle. He groans into your mouth, pulling you closer until your chests touch.

His hands are everywhere—tracing the curve of your hips, slipping beneath your dress, fingers finding your panties and tugging them aside like they’re in the way. The cool air hits your skin, making you shiver.

“You’re soaked,” he mutters, voice tight as he slides a finger through your slickness. “All this just from me watching you?”

You bite your lip, trying to keep yourself from making a sound when he slips a finger inside you. The stretch is familiar, yet it never fails to send a ripple of pleasure straight through you. Your knees almost buckle. He smiles, adding a second finger. His pace is slow, teasing, building the heat between your thighs until you’re struggling to keep quiet.

“Joshua,” you gasp out, barely able to catch your breath. His thumb brushes your clit, sending sparks shooting up your body. You know you should stop this, that anyone could walk in at any time, but the way he’s touching you, the way his fingers curl inside you—it makes coherent thought impossible.

He presses you harder against the wall, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses along your throat, sucking just lightly enough that he doesn’t leave marks. His other hand snakes along your waist, holding you steady while his fingers work you closer and closer to the edge, the rhythm of his thumb on your clit driving you wild.

“I think we’ve got… twenty minutes before people notice we’re missing,” your rival breathes out. “Think I can make you cum in five?”

You let out a strangled gasp, your body trembling as he quickens the pace of his fingers, thrusting them deeper, harder. The coil in your belly tightens with each stroke, every flick of his thumb over your clit; you can’t hold back the soft moans that escape your lips.

Joshua grins, clearly enjoying the way you fall apart in his hands. “That’s it. Don’t hold back.”

His words, the heat of his breath against your ear, send you spiralling. You grip the front of his suit jacket, your legs shaking as the pleasure builds, higher and higher, until it’s too much. Your hips buck against his hand, chasing that final push as his thumb presses harder against your clit.

Your orgasm rips through you, a wave of white-hot pleasure that makes your vision blur. Your thighs shake as you cum around his fingers. You bite down on your lip to keep from crying out loud, but a small whimper still slips through. He continues to pump his fingers, prolonging your release.

When it finally subsides, Joshua pulls his hand away, fingers glistening with your arousal. He watches you for a moment, a satisfied look on his face. You try to catch your breath, leaning heavily against the wall for support.

“God, you look so good when you cum for me.” He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, almost tender.

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, he shushes you and brings his fingers—still wet with your slick—up to your lips.

“Suck.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, but you do as he says, wrapping your lips around his fingers, tasting yourself as he watches silently. His thumb brushes your lower lip as you release him, his gaze not leaving yours.

“My turn. I want to eat you out.” Joshua’s grin is mischievous, but evil is how you would describe it.

“F-fuck, no, Joshua, I— I can’t—” 

Your protests fall on deaf ears. Joshua drops to his knees, uncaring of the fact that the linoleum floor beneath him is probably dirty enough to soil his expensive trousers. 

“Joshua, wait, let me just—” You kick off your heels. The floor is cool underneath your bare feet and it feels better now that you no longer have to worry about accidentally twisting your ankle because you couldn’t hold yourself up.

“Hold your dress up for me, angel.”

You comply, bunching up your dress in your arms and holding it above your waist. The fabric wrinkles under your fingertips. You want to say something snarky back to him—but the only thing that escapes your mouth is a small squeak when Joshua cups your ass with a hand, pulling you closer to his face. He licks his way up your thighs, only stopping when you whine.

“Shhh, angel. You’re going to draw someone’s attention if you keep making those pretty noises.”

You nod but whimper softly, because if Joshua Hong angled his head just a little bit, his breath would be ghosting right against your centre, the only barricade being the soft cotton of your already-soiled panties. He rests a finger against the front of your underwear, his touch light. When he sees the way you bite your lip to hide your moans, he presses more firmly, rubbing against your pussy.

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, attempting to fuck yourself on his finger. He looks up at you with a wondrous expression, watching you swivel your hips, trying to get yourself off. Finally, having had enough, Joshua hooks his fingers through the waistband and roughly pulls it down. 

If you weren’t so high off his touches, perhaps you’d have been embarrassed at the arousal that glistens over your pussy and inner thighs even though you just orgasmed. As such, you do not give a fuck—especially not when you hear Joshua’s sharp intake of breath at the sight. He licks your clit slowly, once, twice, thrice, and then grabs your ass and pulls you closer. You free one hand and hold onto strands of his hair to steady yourself. Joshua’s mouth attaches to your clit, slurping and sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. The moan that bubbles out of your throat draws a satisfied hum from the man eating out your cunt.

He slides a finger inside your clenching hole, slick with arousal, swirling his tongue around your clit. Your mind feels blank, lost to the pleasure that Joshua Hong readily gives you. You let out a slew of curses, until finally, you nearly cry out, “Joshua—oh—I think I’m going to cum—”

Your rival completely disregards your comment, instead adding another finger and pumping them both in and out. His mouth still works your clit diligently. It’s not long before you close your eyes and see stars on the inside of your eyelids. Your chest heaves as your orgasm washes over you. You come undone on Joshua’s face and fingers, shuddering and gasping out profanities.

“Good job,” he praises. You open your eyes and find him still kneeling on the floor. The bulge against the front of his jeans is prominent and for a brief moment, you feel a bit guilty for not giving him the same pleasure he gave you. He glances at his slick-coated fingers, and once you meet his gaze, he pops them into his mouth and licks every bit of your juices off of them. 

“What about you?” you breathe out.

“What about me?”

“You’re hard,” you point out, as if you’re not stating the obvious. 

Joshua arches an eyebrow and stands up. “Very astute observation.”

“Oh, fuck off. I don’t even know why I bother, honestly—”

Joshua grins and kisses the corner of your mouth. “Are you offering to suck me off?”

“No fucking way.” You scowl. “I spent hours on my makeup.”

“Hm. Not that that did any good—”

Your scowl turns fiercer.

“—I mean, you still look beautiful, even though you’re all sweaty. I was just teasing,” he amends. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just go back to my hotel room all by myself and jerk myself off all by myself. Or I could fuck you against the wall.”

Your eyes widen. Joshua—ever the observant one—notices.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he drawls, unzipping his trousers. His bulge is more prominent, now, with only one layer of fabric covering it. “You get off on that, hm? You like being pressed against the wall, so close to everyone outside? Anyone could hear the sounds you make with that pretty little mouth of yours, and then everyone will want to know who’s coaxing them out of you. You like the sound of that?”

His words, crass and filthy by all means, make you shiver. Joshua knows you better than most people. He has mapped out all the places that make you moan, how to bring you to your high as quickly as possible—but he also knows how to make you laugh and smile, and what type of dessert is your favourite, and about the time you cannonballed off the diving board and broke your arm because you didn’t land inside the swimming pool correctly.

Joshua Hong knows you, and it is this fact, more than anything else, that makes you trust him.

“Once more for me, angel. Can you do that?” he asks, pulling his underwear down and freeing his cock.

You nod dumbly, mouth watering at the sight of him—white strands messed up by your fingers, dick hanging out of his pants and curving upwards, the formal button down with the sleeves rolled up and the collar askew, and the lipstick stain on his cheek. He is a vision, and he is all yours.

Joshua smirks, like he knows the effect he has on you. You really should get him back for that, you think.

“Turn around for me,” he coos.

You do as he says, dress still bunched up in one hand. Joshua presses into you from behind, the curve of his dick against your ass, and curls an arm around your chest, cupping one of your breasts. He pinches your nipple lightly through the satin-like fabric of your dress; you gasp.

You turn your head, trying to catch a glimpse of your lover. He stares back at you, mouth pressed into a thin line like he can barely restrain himself, eyes darkened with lust. He pumps his cock a few times, spreading his pre-cum over the length.

“Joshua,” you whisper, pleading.

Joshua kisses you at the same time he enters you, swallowing your moan with his mouth and running his tongue along yours. He still tastes a bit like you, and it’s enough to make you shudder coupled with the feeling of him filling you up.

“Fuck, angel,” he murmurs against your lips. “So perfect for me. Gonna fill you up so well, yeah?”

You can only groan in reply, your free hand coming around to clutch his. His grip is tight and warm, and he squeezes your hand when he pulls out and thrusts back in. You let your head drop back and lean on his shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut and pants escaping your throats.

“So pretty, so beautiful, so perfect,” Joshua mutters, swivelling his hips and thrusting faster into you. He moans, the feeling of your walls clenching around him nearly driving him over the edge. He mouths kisses at your neck, your jaw—no longer careful to not leave marks. He doesn’t care anymore. Some twisted part of him gets off on showing the world that he’s fucked you—his rival since both of you were declared the inheritors of you respective companies—so well. Others would kill to be in your place, or in his, but you only want him and he only wants you.

“J-Joshua, ‘m gonna cum,” you gasp out. His dick drags against your walls, and one particularly rough thrust makes the tip of his cock find that one spot that makes your toes curl with pleasure. You nearly keen at the sensation.

“Cum for me, angel,” he mumbles. “Doing so well for me. You deserve it. You’re on the pill, yeah?”

“Yes,” you moan, leaning your forehead against the rough surface of the wall and squeezing your eyes shut. You squeeze Joshua’s hand once more, the only sounds being the slap of skin against skin and the breathless noises that escape both your lips. Your thighs tremble and you feel stars burst against your eyelids as Joshua brings you to an orgasm for the third time that night.

He rides you through it, continuing to pump his cock in and out of you, though his thrusts have turned sloppy. With a string of curse words mumbled under his breath, Joshua finally cums inside you. You groan at the feeling. He stays there, quiet, simply holding you while both of you catch your breath. 

Joshua slips his softening cock out of you and tucks it back into his pants. You turn around, wrinkle your nose, and bend down to pull your panties back up. You’re sweaty and you feel sticky all over, and you can barely stand without leaning on Joshua for support.

There’s no way you can go back to the convention in this state.

He wipes the sweat off your forehead with the back of his hand. You smooth out your dress and adjust your hair, trying to look presentable. He takes a step back, eyes sweeping over you one last time.

“You have lipstick on your cheek,” you inform him. He brings a palm up to his face and rubs at it.

“Here, wear this,” Joshua tells you. He picks up his blazer from where it was thrown on the floor—you hadn’t even realised it was there. Mumbling your thanks, you drape it over your shoulders. 

“Come on. I’ll take you back to your room,” he says. “We can shower together.”

“God, no, Joshua. Knowing you, you’ll probably have me against the bathroom wall again.”

“What do you take me for? A hormonal teenager who just discovered Wi-Fi and incognito mode?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so that isn’t offensive at all,” Joshua whines. “Please? I’ll even shampoo your hair for you and I promise not a single thought about sex will enter my mind.”

“That’s practically impossible for you,” you mutter. Still, the thought is enticing. You could really use a warm bath right now, and if Joshua is offering to wash your hair for you—well, it’s one less thing for you to worry about given how tired you are. “But fine. We’ll have to be careful so that no one sees us together, though.”

Joshua grins. “Of course. I think everyone is out there getting drunk. We’ll be fine.”

He picks up your heels for you, and, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, twists the door knob.

(You frown and shove your phone into Joshua’s face. The screen is open to an article, which reads:

Has The Notorious Bachelor Of Hong Holdings Finally Settled Down? Joshua Hong Photographed Leaving Hotel Room With Mysterious Girl.

Underneath it is a grainy photo of him, with his hand around your shoulders and your heels in his hand. Thankfully, your face is blurred enough that no one knows it’s you, but still.

“Speculations about who the mysterious girl is rise as the Internet goes into a meltdown,” Joshua reads, trying—and failing—to keep a straight face. “Joshua Hong, considered one of the most eligible and successful bachelors around, has never once been caught or embroiled in any love affair. The most popular suspicion is that the woman in question is a secret spy, sent to seduce him and steal his extensive collection of designer sunglasses,” he continues, pausing to dramatically adjust one of the said pairs of sunglasses perched on his nose.

“I’m going to kill you,” you mutter, raising a hand to shove his shoulder.

Joshua laughs and catches your hand, using it as leverage to pull your body closer to his. “You won’t. You’re the only angel I know—you’re too nice to do that.”

“Try me,” you say, but you tilt your head up and capture his lips in a kiss instead.)

[cheoliedarling]

Girl, to be honest, I want to confess something,

I LOVE non-MC x lads guy fanfictions, oh my god, gimme more! Look, they’re so good. Just imagine. I might look like a masochist, but pain really gets to me. For example, Sylus x assistant!reader, Zayne x fiancée!reader, or Caleb x neighbor’s daughter!reader, or whatever… They’re amazing and totally my cup of tea 😩😩😩

[cheoliedarling]

at one point, whether it was today or yesterday, this was once me too

svt x what was. 💌

you've seen what could have been (@gotta-winwin) and what is (@gyubakeries), but not all good things last. this is the deep and dying breath of the love you've been working on.

📦 Choi Seungcheol. 

Neither of you speak as you pack up your lives into respective boxes. Occasionally, there’s a question. Do you want to keep this? Should we throw this one out? For the most part, the two of you move like ghosts through the apartment you once shared. 

You only watch as Seungcheol hauls several of his boxes towards the elevator, like he’s hoping to not have to come back. Like he can maybe walk out in one fell swoop. His fingers are shaking; you don’t point it out.

The hands that once built your relationship— now the ones taking it away. 

🪑 Yoon Jeonghan. 

If Jeonghan could write a guidebook on relationships, the first thing he’d write would be something like this: Don’t take them to your favorite restaurant. 

You’re not here anymore. Long gone. A funny story, a footnote in his life. And yet his eyes keep flicking to the corner you once loved so much. It’d witnessed everything. First date, first anniversary, first breakup. Final breakup. 

“You alright?” the new girl across from him asks. 

Jeonghan forces a smile. “I’m good,” he says, “but I don’t think I’m feeling this place.” 

“You said it was your favorite.” “Was. Not anymore, I think.”

📅 Hong Jisoo. 

The shared Google Calendar glares up at Joshua, taunting him with color-coded reminders of occasions you will no longer celebrate together. His cursor hovers over the Delete button— because he doesn’t need to remember when your next dentist appointment is, does he? 

His eyes flick over the dates, set a long time ago. 

It’s your parents’ anniversary in two weeks. He knows. 

It’s your quarterly check-up in a month. He knows. 

This is the only part of your life he has left. He knows, he knows, he knows. 

What’s one more day?, Joshua thinks as he leaves the calendar alone.

🚲 Wen Junhui. 

Junhui knows this route. He’s gone down it dozens of times before, though you had been by his side back then. Tonight, it’s just him, his rusty bicycle, and the streetlights that seem to be holding their breath. 

They cast shadows on the street. Ones that look suspiciously like you. Junhui chases them until he’s breathless, until he’s crashing and his knees are all scratched from the rough pavement. 

He laughs at himself. At this fucked situation. At his loss. At the world. He laughs until he’s crying. 

Junhui knows this route. He’ll go down it a dozen times more. 

📍 Kwoon Soonyoung. 

You forgot to stop sharing your location with Soonyoung. He had thought of telling you, but he didn’t want to be the one to break the ‘no contact’ rule. (Excuses.) 

Every so often, he’ll check it. Just to see how you are, he reasons. (Excuses.) 

A dive bar on the other side of town. The museum he said he would take you to but never did. A fancy restaurant, the kind you go to on a first date. 

He has no right to be angry, to care. (Excuses, excuses.) 

He watches you chart a map of a life without him. 

📷 Jeon Wonwoo. 

There’s a photo in Wonwoo’s phone that he can’t let go of. He can tell you all about it. 

IMG329.JPEG. 450MB. All other evidence of you has been wiped except this one. 

It’s the very first photo he took of you. It’s terrible, all things considered. The composition could use some work. The focus is abysmal. And you’re not even looking at the camera. You’re looking at the one holding it, at Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo has looked at IMG329.JPEG so much, he thinks he could step right back into it— the moment when you first realized you loved him.

🍼 Lee Jihoon. 

The baby aisle of Toys R Us is Jihoon’s personal hell.

He considers it the beginning of the end. How, six months ago, you had pointed out which pajamas you wanted to give your future child. And Jihoon had winced, his grip on your hand getting a little tighter. You noticed. 

We don’t want the same things, you had realized; the fact, bouncing off the linoleum floor and white-washed walls. 

The relationship died a quiet death afterwards. Present-day Jihoon toys with a pair of baby shoes and allows himself a single thought: He would’ve wished the baby had your eyes. 

🥜 Lee Seokmin. 

“Does that have any peanuts in it?” 

The question is out of Seokmin’s mouth before he can think twice. All his friends share glances, and he pointedly ignores them despite his fingers tightening around the menu. Might as well commit. 

The waitress assures him there aren’t any. Seokmin smiles politely, goes through with his order. 

He doesn’t have any allergies. You did, though. 

His friends don’t point it out, the same way they ignore the hair tie on his wrist; the space he keeps on the chair to his right. How Seokmin still accommodates for you after all this time.

🍚 Kim Mingyu. 

Made too much pasta, Mingyu texts Seokmin. Come grab some. 

“I have a couple of spare brownies,” Mingyu tells Minghao over the phone. “Do you want me to send them over?”

SOS, Mingyu tweets. Someone take this extra bulgogi off my hands. 

There are towers of leftover tupperwares in Mingyu’s refrigerator. They remind him he is physically incapable of cooking just for one person, just for himself. He had gotten so used to making everything for two. 

He does not know how to unlearn adoring you through his cooking. 

He still loves you. He still wants you to eat well. 

✉️ Xu Minghao. 

The airport personnel is skeptical as he holds up the Ziploc bag of Minghao’s postcards. 

“They’re gifts,” Minghao says stiffly, trying to ignore the feeling of being judged. 

“Quite heavy,” the personnel quips. 

“It is.” 

“How many are these, anyway?” 

“Dozens. From all over.” 

“Haven’t set them yet, have you?” 

Minghao falters. He contemplates telling this stranger about your love for letters. About how he’s spent the aftermath jet-setting, writing postcard he’ll never send. 

He loved you in Hong Kong. He loved you in Paris. He’ll love you wherever he runs. 

“Haven’t sent them,” Minghao concedes. “Not yet.” 

🎵 Boo Seungkwan. 

Seungkwan’s voice cracks the moment the lyrics flash on screen. His friends all poke fun at him and he tosses the microphone aside, screeching something about the alcohol messing with his throat. 

Somebody performs instead of him. Seungkwan sinks back into the couch, his expression of annoyance crumpling when nobody is looking. 

He hasn’t sung properly in months. He thought this karaoke outing would fix him. 

Instead, it reminds him of the times he’d hum to you while you were falling asleep, head in his lap. 

He doesn’t think he can ever sing again. Not without thinking of you.

📻 Chwe Hansol. 

The radio is playing your song. 

Vernon had thought it was silly, being a couple with a ‘song’, and yet you’d gone and picked one anyway. It proves to bite him in the ass now as the new girl in his passenger seat begins to sing along. Wrong, he immediately thinks. Not the right voice. Not the right person. 

It makes his skin crawl, makes his pulse race. He reaches off to switch stations just as Matty Healy croons Do you think I have forgotten—

“Hey,” his date complains. “I liked that one!”

“Yeah, well,” Vernon says, “I don’t.” 

💔 Lee Chan. 

Chan is the one who called it quits, which is why he doesn’t know if he has the right to heartbreak. 

Is he allowed to miss you? To want to take it all back? 

He does everything and more. But he never texts at midnight, never calls while drunk. Chan takes the love he has for you and tucks it away, reshapes it into something more fitting for exes. 

“You’ll be okay,” he had told you that night, trying his damnedest to let you down gently. 

You are, now. Okay. 

He will be, too. 

And the world spins madly on. 

footnotes: unlike serena and tiya’s verses, there will be no poll for this one. all these stories have ended, for better or for worse. these concepts came alive with serena, tiya, and ally’s help! i hope you enjoyed the worlds we’ve tried to fit in a hundred words or less. ‹𝟹

[cheoliedarling]

Morning Routines with Sylus

Ever since marrying Sylus, (Name) had perfected the art of slipping out of Sylus’s iron grip without waking him.

She had to—her work started at 7 AM, and he only went to bed at 5.

Carefully, she eased herself out of his embrace, moving like a trained assassin. The moment his arms loosened, she slid away, only for Sylus to stir slightly, his brow furrowing as if already missing her warmth.

(Name) quickly grabbed a pillow and slipped it into his arms. Like a cat seeking comfort, Sylus instinctively buried his face in it, relaxing again.

She stifled a giggle. Too easy.

With her temporary victory, she tiptoed out of the bedroom, heading to the kitchen for her usual morning coffee.

Sitting on a stool, she let out a content sigh as she took a sip—

Only for a familiar black and red mist to suddenly swirl around her waist and coffee mug.

Before she could react, her cup was gently pulled from her hands and placed on the counter.

And then—she was lifted into the air.

"—Hey!" She yelped as the mist effortlessly maneuvered her out of the kitchen, down the hall, and back into the bedroom.

Before she knew it, she was back in bed, wrapped snugly in Sylus’s embrace.

A deep, sleepy chuckle rumbled against her ear.

"Did you think you could escape me so easily, kitten?" Sylus murmured, his voice husky from sleep.

(Name) huffed in amusement, pressing a hand to his chest. "Sysy, I have to work."

"Mmm… no." He buried his face into her neck, arms tightening around her as if she were his most treasured possession.

She sighed, knowing there was only one way out of this.

Leaning in, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Then another.

And another.

By the fifth kiss, Sylus groaned, reluctantly loosening his grip. "Fine. 10 more minutes."

(Name) laughed, victorious once again.

"Deal." She snuggled into his warmth, knowing full well she’d have to escape again soon.

This was inspired by an art drawing from twitter, and i had to write it as a hc for my mc's version LMAO THIS IS WAY WAY TOO CUTE AND SO SO SYLUS CODED i love marriage life imagines w sylus, i love my man so much i hope u guys could tell

[cheoliedarling]

Sylus, who doesn't just call you kitten from the start, but also treats you like one. He can't help it. Not when you remind him exactly of a fierce, scraggly stray kitten, hissing and arching its back at him whenever he comes close.

After coming to understand how uncomfortable you felt around him, he decided to adopt a different approach to getting close with you. A less forceful approach- a plan you didn't realise was implemented even when you were finally pliant and comfortable around him like a relaxed fat cat.

He had to coax you, silently and gently encourage you to put away your claws and start trusting him.

When you were at the base and basically sticking to the opposite side of the room as him as if you were glued there, sometimes he'd pretend to be deeply curious about something in front of him, such as a book or artefact, and pretend to pour over it as he clicked his tongue softly.

As expected, and just like a cat, the sound would catch your attention, and when you realised he wasn't making the sound to gain your attention but just casually clicking his tongue because he was interested in something else, you would slowly approach with a little furrow in your brow. He tried not to laugh as you took slow steps around the edge of the room to come closer, you yourself pretending to be interested in other books and things to seem as if you just casually ended up near him, meanwhile you had been eyeing him from the corner of your eye the whole time, little interest in anything else.

Treats. You hadn't though deeply about why Sylus' pantries were stocked with your favourite snacks. After a few visits to his home, you would naturally make your way to the kitchen to grab your favourite treats without a care in the world, happily munching them like a stray cat that had been lured over by temptation.

At the base, you would also be able to find your favourite toys (the cool guns in his armoury) and your favourite games, such as kitty cards. The blankets and pillows in the guest room you stayed in were all made of your favourite soft material, so expensive it felt like sleeping on a cloud. Sylus even tried spraying his cologne in certain areas of the house so you would become accustomed to his scent.

When in his home, Sylus would make sure to give you plenty of alone time while still ensuring you were aware of his presence, so as not to intimidate you but also to make sure you knew he was around if you wanted to approach him.

And you did, sometimes peeping over his shoulder like a curious cat to see what he was doing. Or sitting on the kitchen counter watching him as he cooked. The distance slowly closed before you even realised it. But he knew, and he was torn between smugness and the happy trilling in his heart.

You remained blissfully ignorant as the comforts around you grew. You naturally relaxed into your surroundings and his presence, not even noticing Sylus had planned it this way from the start.

Even now, he watches you- in your own small home this time- lounging on a fluffy, pink bean bag situated in a spot of the living area that catches the sun's soft glows through the window, and can't help but liken you to a cat. Especially when the sun moves through the sky and your eyes crack open, an unhappy frown creasing the top of your nose because you are now in a shady spot and even with a blanket covering you that will just not do.

He watches you stretch languidly, yawning, before dragging the bean bag to a new patch of sun and once again settling on it, falling into a comfortable nap once more.

He's come from the kitchen, and he approaches you to place a warm cup of tea beside you quietly. One of your eyes peek open to take him in.

"Sylussss," you whine sleepily, rolling onto your back. He squats in front of you and rubs the top of your head.

"Mm?"

You don't say anything else, just falling back into slumber, but he smiles and continues to pat your head. It's something he does often, and he wonders if you even realise that you've come to always expect these head pats, bouncing up to him when you're proud of something you've done and want his praise, waiting for his warm hand to tell you you did well.

Or when the two of you are just relaxing together, sometimes he'll scratch beneath your chin and you'll preen, lips twisting up in contentment and enjoyment, eyes falling shut as you lean toward him for more. You may as well have purred and rubbed against him in silent askance for more.

Of course, if you became aware of the fact he was treating you like a cat, you would start pretending to not like these small affections, so Sylus keeps quiet with his teasing.

Although, he thinks of how cute you'd be, turning away with a pout after discovering he had been treating you like a pet. He could almost see an imaginary tail flicking irritably. Maybe you'd even growl unhappily.

He chuckled quietly. Truly a kitten.

[cheoliedarling]

Sylus is attentive, extremely so. Nothing about you is secret from him, whether you wish it was or not. Since you've been together, you've found yourself a victim of his control-freak tendencies— the fact your location, step count, heart rate, and apartment security cameras had all become his personal business was something that took a while to get used to. He's respectful as he can be about it, regularly reminding you he does it only to make sure of your safety and always coming clean whenever he's been snooping. Over the months you've grown to find it endearing instead of creepy, because it makes crystal clear how he simply cares so damn much about you.

You can't hide from him, even when you want to the most. When you're holed up under the blankets in the dead of winter, the shitty weather and 4pm sunsets bringing out the worst of your depression, he texts: "Sweetheart, 150 steps? Am I reading this right?"

You cringe, wanting to disappear. "Stop tracking me," you respond back.

"Have you not gotten out of bed?" His follow up text comes in immediately, and then those three dots pop up on your screen again. He's not giving you a chance to respond with the "I'm fine" he already knows you've halfway typed out. "I'm coming over. No questions asked."

Before you know it he's at your door, making himself at home without asking, his care quiet and efficient. Mephisto keeps you company in bed, chirping and whirring on your nightstand as Sylus busies himself tidying the apartment. After a moment, Sylus brings you a glass of water, toothbrush and toothpaste from the bathroom, a hair tie— little things that make you feel a bit more like a person again.

He then slips into bed next to you, helping tie your hair back into a neat ponytail as you demolish the first glass of water you've had all day. You give him a wordless, grateful look.

"You know, I won't think you're weak if you ask me for help," he murmurs gently, his voice gravelly and tender. He squeezes your shoulder.

You want to tell him that you know, but that it's just really hard. He gives you a warm look that makes you feel like he's just read your insecurities like a book, his hand slipping into yours beneath the blankets. He intertwines his fingers with yours.

"This is why I keep tabs on you, sweetie. I need you to know that I'll always be here."

[A/N]: this a combination of some similar requests and an expansion on one of my sylus headcanons! if you sent a request along these lines hope you enjoy :)

[cheoliedarling]

AHH

now fight

[cheoliedarling]

okay, screaming rolling over hiding under a blanket

to seungcheol, whom i loved before.

you write letters to all of your past loves in a bid to get over them. your best friend's brother, choi seungcheol, was never supposed to get his. until he does. and now you're never going to hear the end of it.

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[cheoliedarling]

hiiii carats! i am raffling off a bunch of seventeen goodies to raise money for @kimhojin <3 rin has been going through chemo which has caused her some pretty painful side effects that she now requires medication to deal with, which isnt cheap. she is selling some of her merch if you are interested but absolutely nobody should have to sell their things to be without pain so my hope is to lift that burden.

last time we all pitched in for rin we were able to raise a pretty significant amount in sticker sales. i'm hoping we can pool a good little bit for her again so she doesn't have to worry about this for a while. id like to leave her w as little on her plate as possible

so!! here is the deal. $1 = 1 entry. the more entries you purchase, the more likely you are to win a prize! every dollar over $10 will also gain you an additional entry, so if you donate $5, your name goes in five times... but if you donate $10, it goes in twenty!

you can donate either via my kofi OR you can donate directly to rin's paypal, just screenshot your payment and send me a pm here on tumblr so i can jot you down! (or you can make a note of who you are on here in the payment notes, but the first option is easier !)

that said, here's whats up for raffle :3 keep in mind international shipping is available so you don't miss out if youre not within the us!

one seventeenth heaven album + all inclusions + signed postcard (you choose whose signature it has)

three hand crocheted miniteen keychains

three seungcherry fanmade merch kits (see what's inside below)

i will cover shipping for the album and the keychains. i will cover domestic (within the continental us) and half of international shipping for the kits, meaning you will be responsible for the other half if youre outside of the states.

this will be open until march first, after which i'll draw the winners. i will be able to ship the album out from the seller instantly, however the other two items will have a turnaround time of a few weeks.

if you can't pitch in please do reblog to boost!

[cheoliedarling]

Yes that is all

fan account —

prompt / request — minghao finds your old fan account, and finds out that it wasn’t for him

pairing — fan!reader + boyfriend!minghao

word count — 923

genre — fluff

when you and minghao first started dating, you’d mentioned that you had a fan account before meeting him. you’d asked him if he wanted to see it but he declined and it never really came up again.

until today.

you’re just on your couch, peacefully reading your book when your usually calm boyfriend barges into the apartment.

“babe, we need to talk,” minghao states and you sit up, thinking it was a serious conversation.

“is everything okay?” you ask, seeing the serious look on his face. “no! nothing is okay! how could you!” minghao exclaims and now you’re really worried, trying to figure out what you’d done.

“what exactly did i do…” you trail off, not able to think of anything you’d done wrong recently. unless he was mad that you didn’t put the laundry away immediately or make the bed as neatly this morning. you knew your boyfriend liked everything to be neat and tidy but surely he couldn’t be this mad about that.

“i was just peacefully scrolling on my instagram explore page today when a certain fan account popped up,” minghao starts to explain, pacing the room a little.

“they posted a nice photo spread of my photo cards with a pretty tea set so i decided to stalk their page–”

“you stalk your fan’s accounts?” you raise an eyebrow, cutting him off. “i like to see my fan’s creativity. that’s not the point! anyways, i realize that this entire account is pretty much 90% dedicated to hoshi,” minghao says.

“and what’s worse is that i continued scrolling through it to find a photo of you! my girlfriend!” he exclaims.

“wait, this is why you’re upset? because you found my old fan account? babe, i told you about this when we started dating and i even asked if you wanted to see it,” you remind him.

“I’m not upset about the account. I’m upset that it’s dedicated to kwon soonyoung!” your boyfriend clarifies and you can’t help but be amused.

“seriously? it’s not that big a deal, babe. i has that account before we started dating– hell, before we even met,” you shrug, picking your book back up.

“okay but why hoshi?” he practically whines. “he was my bias back then–”

“he was your what?!” minghao gasps. “you biased hoshi? kwon soonyoung? hoshi?” he just stares at you.

“jealous?” you tease. “you biased him? your bias is a furry!” minghao gapes at you. “why did you even have so many photo cards of his,” he asks.

“okay it wasn’t my fault i always ended up pulling his photo cards in albums,” you shrug. “you should’ve sold them. and bought mine instead,” minghao states, his expression dead serious.

“aren’t you the one who tells your fans not to buy photo cards?” you give him a look. “this is different! you’re my girlfriend and you’re collecting a furry’s photo cards,” he argues.

“in my defense, i wasn’t your girlfriend when i was collecting him. besides, it’s not like hoshi’s the only one i posted on that account! I posted spreads for pretty much everyone, including you! it was just mostly hoshi and jeonghan because they were my biases,” you point out.

“oh great, so you biased the guy who thinks he’s a tiger and the one who has a pet rock,” he says dryly.

“i might’ve biased them but you’re the one I’m in love with now,” you assure him, pulling him in for a soft kiss.

“so… where is your photo card binder?” he questions after pulling away and you raise an eyebrow at him. “you are not burning my collection,” you warn.

“i wasn’t going to burn it. i was going to sell it. and then use that money to buy you photo cards of me,” he corrects.

“it’s okay babe, i don’t need a photo card of you when i have the real thing,” you tell him, kissing him again before you focus back on your book.

you think minghao lets it go after that but you’re proven wrong a few weeks later when they have their comeback.

he comes home with a gift bag for you, making you raise an eyebrow. “shouldn’t i be the one giving you a gift to celebrate your comeback, not the other way around?” you ask but happily accept the gift.

he watches as you pulled out every album version. you don’t realize that the plastic seal had been broken on all of them as you open it.

you open the first album, checking your photo card pulls as your boyfriend watched with a smirk on his face.

“oh my god, all three hao’s? i don’t think I’ve ever pulled only one member before,” you say, setting down the three different photo cards of your boyfriend.

it wasn’t until you opened the carat version that you realized your boyfriend had done something.

“seriously?” you give him a look when you flip the photo cards to reveal, once again, all of his. plus the carat binder was also his.

“i guess you��ve lost your hoshi luck, honey. you got lucky pulling all of mine,” hao says innocently.

he watches as you pick up your phone, expecting you to take a photo of your pulls but instead he sees you tapping on it, most likely texting someone.

“who are you texting?” he asks and you look up at him. “hoshi. to ask for his photo cards,” you say, dead serious.

“hey! i posed cutely for all of my photo cards just for you and you still want his?”

[cheoliedarling]

im not saying this is how i look right now but i will also not defend myself

like what if yn is tired just arrived home from work and cheol is on the couch, legs stretched watching tv. then yn changes to little shorts n sit between his legs, yn's back on his chest. little cuddles and then his hand slowly reaches her 😼 little no's or stops from yn but ofc she actually dont want him to stop. THAN HE LOCKS HER LEGS WITH HIS LEGS AND OPEN THEM MORE AND KEEP GOING

bf!cheol taking care of you after work as you sit between his legs

WARNINGS: smut, fingering, dirty talk, body fluids (cum), a bulge pressed against reader's ass 😇

it’s been a day. work was hell, people were annoying, and honestly, the second you got home, you were ready to faceplant on your bed and not move for the next 12 business days. except you walk into the living room, and there he is—choi seungcheol. stretched out on the couch like he’s got no worries in the world, one arm lazily thrown over the backrest, legs spread. he’s flipping through channels with that casual “i’m hot and i know it” energy that makes you roll your eyes even as your chest does that stupid fluttery thing.

“hey, baby,” he calls, barely looking up, but the smile tugging at his lips is soft. inviting.

“hey,” you mumble back, kicking off your shoes and tossing your bag somewhere in the vicinity of the door because you’re too tired to care. you trudge off to change, throwing on one of those little pairs of shorts you know he likes (and, let’s be real, you also like how they make your ass look).

when you wander back into the living room, he’s still there, scrolling through Netflix now, like he’s trying to find something he hasn’t already seen ten times. you flop down between his legs, leaning back against his chest with a tired sigh, and he immediately wraps his arms around you.

“rough day?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“you have no idea,” you mumble, closing your eyes as his warmth surrounds you.

he hums, his chin resting on your shoulder, and you feel his hands slowly start to wander. it’s innocent at first, his fingers tracing little patterns on your thighs, but then one of his hands starts sliding up.

“cheol,” you say softly, not even looking up.

“hmm?” he replies, his voice all sweet and casual, like he’s not already halfway to breaking the unspoken no-touchy rule you’ve set for nights like this.

“don’t,” you mumble, but there’s no heat behind it, and you both know it.

his hand pauses for like, half a second before continuing its journey. his fingers sneak under the hem of your shorts, brushing against the bare skin beneath. you squirm a little, your legs pressing together instinctively, but all that does is trap his hand where it is.

“you’re not stopping me,” he teases, his voice low in your ear, and you feel his smirk more than you see it.

“cheol, seriously—”

and then he moves. his legs come up, wrapping around yours and locking them in place, spreading you open in a way that makes you gasp.

“cheol!”

“what?” he says, feigning innocence as his fingers dip between your legs, finding exactly what he’s looking for. “you’re not stopping me,” he repeats, his tone teasing but firm, like he knows he’s got you right where he wants you.

your breath hitches as his fingers start to move, tracing over the thin fabric of your shorts like he’s testing how far he can push you. you let out a shaky little “stop,” but it’s half-hearted at best, and you’re pretty sure he knows it.

“stop?” he echoes, his voice dripping sweetness. “you don’t sound like you want me to stop.”

“i do,” you tease weakly, but the way your hips tilt up to meet his hand completely betrays you.

“sure you do,” he murmurs, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your shorts now, brushing against your bare skin. “you’re so convincing, baby.”

you let out a soft whimper as he finds your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to make your head fall back against his shoulder.

“cheol—”

“shh,” he soothes, his lips brushing against your ear. “just let me take care of you, okay? you’ve had a long day. you deserve this.”

your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan low in your ear, the sound shooting straight to your core. your lips hover near his ear, and you gasp when his fingers slide inside you, the wet, obscene noises filling the space between your breaths.

schlk—schlk—schlk

every slide is unrelenting, curling and hitting that spot, making tears flood your eyes. his cock is rock hard, pressing right against your ass, and you can feel him twitch through the fabric of his sweats.

“fuck, baby, squeezing my fingers like this. you missed me, hm?”

you let out a choked moan, your hips tilting to meet his thrusts, but he keeps you pinned, his legs still locking yours open.

“you’re dripping all over my hand...listen,”

your back arches further, your face finding his neck as your cheeks flush with embarassment, his free hand snakes up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

“you wanna cum? hm? answer me,” he taunts, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “i can feel it, the way you’re clenching. but i don’t know if you deserve it yet.”

“cheol—!”

“hmm?” he hums, adding another finger, making your walls flutter around him. “use your words, baby. beg for it. tell me how bad you need me to make you come.”

you shake your head, too stubborn to give him the satisfaction, but then he shifts his hand, his thumb pressing against your clit just right, and you unravel.

“please!” you gasp, your voice cracking as your nails dig into his scalp.

“that’s my girl,” he growls, his hips rocking against you, his cock throbbing against your ass like he’s holding back just as much as you are.

his fingers work you faster, the wet noises getting louder, more vulgar, and your moans turn into broken cries. “such a good girl,” he coos, though his tone is still dripping with teasing. “but fuck, you’re so easy to ruin, aren’t you? just a little fingering, and you’re falling apart on me.”

his words push you closer, every filthy syllable lighting you up, until your body tenses and you cum around his fingers, the schelching present until you melt on his chest.

“that’s it, my baby...make a mess for me. let me feel you.”

and you do, your nails raking down his forearm as he praises you for working so hard.

[cheoliedarling]

I think its time to: