#chanhee x reader

[cupidjyu]

caught in the loving act?!

(98 line) when he hears you talking about them fondly

genre: flirting, shy juyeon, everyone is flirty juyeon's just a big loser. kissing, hugs, smiles all around! notes: i don't have much to say, just know that i am literally about to fall asleep ^.^ word count: 1.3k

juyeon

You were calling your friend on the phone in another room. You were so immersed in your conversation, that you didn’t hear his knocking on the door. 

He sighed at the lack of response. He wanted to ask you what show you wanted to watch later for your scheduled movie date night. But with no answer, he decided to open the door. But, he froze when he heard his name.

“Isn’t he the cutest? People always say he looks intimidating, but they don’t actually know just how cute he is,” You rambled on and on, your legs kicking on the bed excitedly. “Like how clingy he is? He’s really clingy. And also pouty, especially when you tease him.” You let out a sigh. “I love him so much.”

Then, you looked at the time. 

“I have to go,” You giggled. “i have a date with the love of my life.” You hung up and stood up. When you turned around, you were met with the sight of him staring at you shyly. He couldn’t even look you in the eye, his cheeks flushing. “Hi, Juyeonie?” You titled your head. Then your lips curled up mischievously. “Did you hear me talking about you?” You eyed him coyly.

He blushed even more.

“Yes…” He mumbled, looking down at the floor as he shifted. He let out a sudden whine. “But did you have to expose my habits just like that? It’s– embarrassing.”

You laughed and nodded, pulling him into a hug as you looked up at him. “Of course. I think your habits are the cutest.”

“But only you’re supposed to know about them.” Juyeon huffed with a pout. “Now the whole world knows.”

“Don’t be sulky.” You poked his cheek. “You’re too cute when you’re sulky.”

He whined again, making your eyes soften. “But I only want you to see this side of me.” He frowned, eyebrows furrowing.

“Okay, okay, fine.” You soothed him, brushing his hair out of his face in which he melted into your touch. “My big baby. Only for me.”

“That’s right.” He crossed his arms before pulling you into a heart-stopping kiss. 

kevin

He wandered the house, tidying up random things and letting out occasional sighs of boredom. But suddenly, he heard your voice from across the apartment shouting. He was definitely worried as he rushed over to check on you. The door was slightly ajar and he could see that you were video-calling your friend.

He gasped, his cheeks immediately feeling hot. You were holding one of his artworks. 

“Isn’t it so amazing?” You yelled excitedly. You kicked your feet with adorable giggles. “My boyfriend is such a great artist. I love him. Look how good this one is…” You pulled out another artwork. But what Kevin noticed was how gently you handled the canvases, which made his heart melt.

“Another one!” You beamed.

Your friend clapped briefly before giving you a worried look. “Y/n, maybe just calm down a bit.”

“No–” You shook your head stubbornly. “I have to show you another one–” Your words were interrupted when you heard the door creak open from behind. You whipped around to see him leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he wore a fond smile.

“She’s right. Maybe take a deep breath?” He smiled.

Your body went rigid. “K-Kevin?”

“Hi, love.” 

You hadn’t noticed your friend hang up already.

“What were you doing just now?” He laughed, approaching you, almost making you want to shrink with mortification.

“I was… showing your art…” You muttered. 

“Really? Because as far as I know, that art was made specifically for you.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. He pulled you into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. “Is the art pretty?”

“Of course it is.”

“Then the art was made for you. Since you’re beautiful.” He caressed your cheek.

You stammered, unable to come up with a response. Instead, you opted for burying your flushed face in his chest.

chanhee

It wasn’t often that your friend came over, so it was natural for you to be excited to see her again. The two of you went off to talk and have fun in another room as Chanhee kept to himself, scrolling through his phone with music playing in the background. But over the music, he could hear you speak his name. He tilted his head in confusion as he walked over the room.

He saw that the two of you were looking at the computer. Specifically, online shopping on a popular website.

“What about this one?” Your friend asked, pointing at the screen.

You stared at it for a second before shaking your head. “No. It has to be perfect.”

Your friend whined. “We’ve been looking for twenty minutes already.”

“If I’m trying to get a gift for him, it has to fit him,” You explained with a serious expression. “He’s already perfect! Something pretty, nice, and adorable… just like him.” You looked up at the ceiling with lovesick eyes.

Your friend rolled her eyes. “You’ve unbelievably whipped.”

“I am,” You sighed. “I’m in love with him.”

When your friend left, you decided to start cleaning up the mess that you two made. But suddenly, someone attacked you from behind, into a firm back hug. You immediately knew who it was, with his typical perfume and all. His chin was hooked over your shoulder as he peppered kisses all over your cheek.

You giggled. “What’s this for?”

“I don’t need a gift.” He whispered. “You’re all I need.”

You froze. “You heard everything?”

“Mhm.” He smiled. “Thank you for being so sweet.”

“Well, because it’s precisely you.”

He hummed in agreement. Then he kissed you again, this time longer and deeper. “I’m in love with you too.”

“Glad the feelings mutual,” You laughed.

“But what if I’m even more in love with you?” He challenged, smiling brightly.

“Oh, we’re making this a competition?”

changmin

You were currently on a video call with a family member and Changmin just happened to walk by. He was about to mind his own business when he heard you start yelling with frustration. He widened his eyes in fear that you were actually getting into a serious argument so he opened the door and peeked in.

“Are you seriously saying that he looks like a squirrel?” The younger boy on the screen looked at you skeptically.

“Yes!” You exclaimed.

“Uh…” He glanced down for a second before pulling up a hideous picture of a squirrel, mid-bite on his phone. “This is your man?”

You groaned, putting your head in your hands. “Why do you always pick the ugly pictures? Changmin is cute. A cute squirrel. Have you seen his cheeks when he eats? I want to squish them.”

“Jeez…” The boy rolled his eyes. “In love much?”

You snorted. “Like you would know.”

He gasped. “Woah. I’m blocking you.” And then he hung up. You fell against the back of your chair in disbelief.

“He actually hung up...”

“A squirrel, you say?” Your boyfriend appeared behind you, smiling cheekily.

You widened your eyes. “Changmin? How long were you– Where’d you come from?” 

“Straight from your heart.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Okay, wow that’s cheesy.”

“Says the one who wants to squish my cheeks.”

You whined, “In my defense, you weren’t supposed to hea–” But he suddenly cupped your cheeks and pulled you into a deep kiss.

When he pulled away, he raised an eyebrow attractively. “Why don’t you call me cute to my face?”

“Why should I?”

“So I can kiss you breathless.”

“Really?” You smirked. You waited for a moment before leaning in and whispering into his ear. “Cutie.”

He laughed, his eyes darkening. “Oh, you better get ready.”

“Ah, I’m so scared.” You sarcastically joked. But then you yelped when he dove in and started kissing you with so much passion, you were in fact: breathless.

[cheegu3]

gangster!new - punishing you

note; original ask here, I had to make a separate post bc of tumblr again

warnings; yandere/mafia themes, unhealthy relationships, gun, slightly dub-con, sadism, drugging, smut - rough sex, non-protective, nasty but short sex lol (licking cum, spitting in mouth)

wc; 2.6k

The billboard lights had gotten blurrier the further you walked and you couldn't help but wonder if it was your mind playing tricks on you.

With the adrenaline pumping in your body and your water-soaked shoes running on the wet pavement, there was a high chance you weren’t exactly in the right state of mind now.

Maybe because of that you pushed on, even as it got so bad you almost fell into the busy traffic.

You didn't hear anything but your own heavy breaths. Occasionally, you scared yourself by thinking he was behind you; if you turned around too quickly you'd see a man in a suit and immediately you squealed '' no, no, please, '' to yourself.

It was only yesterday that you found out that your boyfriend wasn't who you thought he was.

At the end of the night out with your friends you were supposed to walk a few blocks to get a bus.

On the way there you passed by many alleyways but one in particular piqued your interest. Sounds came from far down it. Hushed voices, muffled screams, and the sound of a gun reloading.

You shouldn't have done it but your feet seemed to drag themselves forward on their own until you stood at the very end of the alley and it was already too late - they saw you.

'' Hey! Who's that? ''

You froze before your brain sensed danger and kicked in your flight instinct. Whipping around you started to run as hard as you could and sprinted for around 200 meters, then dove into a small shop when you felt your legs grow weak.

You forced your breathing to regulate, taking deep breaths while placing a hand over your chest as if to stop your pounding heart from escaping it.

The customers gave you curious looks and eyed each other questioningly. Then their gazes moved which you only noticed once you weren't panting anymore and had the energy to raise your head.

They were fixated on something behind you. In sync, their eyes moved from the left to the right until whatever was behind seemed to stop right at the door where you were standing.

You had a gut feeling that it was the guys from before. The gun and the shady business that seemed to be going down in that alley had made you come to the conclusion that they were gangsters. The city was full of them, and your boyfriend Chanhee had often told you to stay away from them at all costs. He said he knew them too well since he was a native.

Pretending like your anxiety levels hadn't skyrocketed, you went over to the back row of the shop casually and looked at something on the shelf. The bells above the door jingled, causing you to be more alert as they finally entered the shop.

You listened to their footsteps and your forehead creased. It was hard to make out how many of them there were. The loud thud of boots was always followed by several more and then a dragging sound.

You turned your head a little bit and discovered that the sound came from people moving out of the way. They were getting closer to you. It seemed like they inspected everyone in the shop before moving on to the next which meant there was no escaping the inevitable meeting you'd have with them.

A lone sandwich was the only thing you took out of the shelf. It would be too suspicious to just stand there, your back turned and not even buy anything. Maybe...just maybe they'd think you weren't the one if you actually looked like you belonged there.

But it was getting too hard to not act like the imposter. Everything about you screamed guilty. Your hands clenched around the poor sandwich to stop them from shaking violently.

Your mind kept going back to the alley. With some panic, you realized that if they saw you again, they'd recognize you right away. Although you didn't see their faces due to the darkness, you were standing right under the streetlights.

The crinkling sound brought the attention of a man who had ventured off on his own to make the search for the witness more effective.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus on something else to stop your body from sweating profusely. But it was too late. The man had already put his hand on your shoulder to turn you to him.

Glancing back, the first thing you saw was his pale hand on you. Surprisingly for a gangster, it was very pretty. Long slick fingers, not a scar, injury, or callus in sight.

You didn't mean to, but you smiled and looked up at the man. The smile fell immediately. And so did his, your boyfriend's.

For a whole minute, you just stared at each other. A range of emotions washed over both of your faces; confusion, anger, guilt, sadness, denial.

He finally spoke, and when he did so his voice came out tired. '' You weren't supposed to find out like this. ''

You didn't say anything. Your mouth felt like sandpaper. But it seemed to only agitate him. Maybe he wanted you to say the words he'd want to hear like ' it's okay, I don't care, I love you anyway '.

You couldn't say them. Not after you'd seen him like that.

'' I told you to go straight home, didn't I? '' he raised his voice which made you flinch.

You didn't miss the way he put his hands in his pockets. People don't show their hands when they feel certain emotions, such as anxiety or guilt.

He knew he was in the wrong for deceiving you but still acted now like it was somehow your fault for discovering his dark little secret.

'' You never listen to me. That's the problem with you! ''

He was getting angrier and angrier by your continued silence, taking it as an act of rebellion. As he took a step towards you, meant to intimidate, someone behind him called out, '' New, let's go. ''

New?

You stared up at him. He responded to the name and gave you one last look, tensely telling you under his breath for you to go home, and then left with the group.

The different name caught you off guard. It felt like the final punch to the gut before crashing down. Somehow it created a wall between you and Chanhee. A different name, a different persona, a different job. He'd been living a completely separate life.

You hadn't been cheated on but it almost felt like it. With a sour taste in your mouth, you went home at last and locked yourself into one of the spare bedrooms. There was no way you wanted to see your boyfriend for the rest of the day.

As you lay in bed trying to sleep, a thought popped into the forefront of your mind, something you'd never considered much before. Sure, he'd been possessive and overbearing but you could handle it.

This however? He was a bad person, a terrible one in fact, who hurt others.

'' Oh my god, '' you whispered to yourself.

Was that man dead? Had he killed him? Your sweet loving boyfriend? You felt sick. The love was rapidly disappearing, only being replaced with pure disgust. How could you have loved someone like that, or not noticed it? A psycho right in front of your eyes!

A psycho who laid his delicate hands around you at night, telling you he loved you; while those same hands were used to kill.

'' Y/n? ''

As if on cue, the devil came home and knocked softly on your door. You turned over on your side and ignored it, hoping that he'd give up and go away soon.

And he did. He tried the door and despite not getting an answer which would usually set his temper off, he just left it and went away.

You woke up the next day with an uneasiness in the pit of your stomach. There was a feeling that you needed to walk on eggshells around him now.

'' Hey. Did you sleep well? '' was the first thing he said.

It wasn't unusual for him to ask that if he got up earlier than you. Now though, he could probably see the dark circles under your eyes, as his face was laced with concern.

You only nodded and tried not to stiffen when he approached you for his morning kiss. It was awkward for both of you.

He gestured to the filled dining table before heading to the door. A glance at the clock told you it was almost 1pm; you'd slept for a very long time and likely he had waited hours for you.

'' Are you going somewhere? ''

'' Work, '' he said, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

Work from now on meant his mafia work, the part he'd kept hidden from you before. Your eyes narrowed. Was he going off somewhere to hurt someone again?

But you didn't say anything. After the door closed behind him, you started gathering your most important things and texted your sister that you were coming over to spend the night there.

An hour passed before you felt brave enough to leave. You brought a sandwich and a water bottle that Chanhee had put out for you which you sipped on while walking to the city.

It was a Sunday so there were barely any buses. You clenched your teeth and kept walking despite that, determined to reach your sister's house in an hour or two.

However, it would prove to be a lot more difficult than you'd originally thought. Within twenty minutes you looked back and realized you hadn't walked far at all.

Your head began throbbing for some reason and you couldn't tell if it was the pouring rain, tiredness, or something else, but your vision started getting distorted too.

How long had you been walking for now? You could see the billboards shining down on you like they always did. Yet everything surrounding it seemed to be dark.

Your steps became wobbly when you were about to pass by the spot where you had seen Chanhee just the day before. You decided to rest there against the wall until whatever had just disrupted you would go away.

You had only just sat down when your body fell down to the side with a loud thump.

*******

Lights woke you from your strange slumber. You had to blink a few times to come back to reality and make sense of your surroundings. What greeted you was no longer the alley and the darkness, but a familiar setting - your bedroom, with a familiar person, your boyfriend.

He helped you sit up. You stretched your tense muscles and tried to move to get out of bed, stomach practically screaming at you. Things hadn't fully set in yet; such as the fact that he had found you somehow and brought you back there, which must mean he knew you tried to escape.

The only thing you cared about now was food and sleep since the throbbing from before had left an awful after-effect in your head.

'' I have food, don't get up. ''

He handed you some food that you nibbled on quietly. As you washed it down with some drink, it finally hit you.

Your eyes widened but you quickly had to pretend like nothing was wrong, just in case he didn't actually know. You tried to read his impression, stoic, unamused maybe? He usually smiled when he saw you looking at him. Not now though, not at all.

Once you were done he took it away from you and didn't even bother going to put it in the kitchen, he just placed it on the nightstand. For some reason it made alarm bells ring inside your head.

'' That wasn't very smart of you, was it? ''

You shuddered at his low tone, it was one he had never really used with you before, one that very clearly painted a picture of who was the prey and who was the predator.

You backed up against the header behind but didn't get very far; he pulled you down swiftly by your leg so you were dragged closer to him. Laying there shaking, he just looked down at you.

'' You know I drugged the water, right? ''

Your mouth fell open.

'' I knew you'd try something like this just to piss me off. ''

Suddenly he started unbuttoning his suit shirt which confused you. He smirked at your puzzled look and seemed to enjoy you watching him undress.

Once the shirt was off he was satisfied, and so, he came over to hover over you. Your wrists were pinned in an almost painful grip above your head.

'' I-I was just...going for a walk. '' you licked your dry lips.

His expression didn't change and he didn't answer you. Taking a breath of relief a bit too early you gasped when he caught you off guard by flipping you onto your stomach.

You tried wriggling out of his grasp.

'' Don't pretend like you don't want it every day, '' he sounded both amused and angry, his words carrying an almost venomous edge to them.

You buried your face into the pillow in embarrassment, your body acknowledging his words by the growing wetness between your thighs.

Behind you, you heard his zipper go down and were just about to glance back when he pushed into you without warning. He didn't even bother pulling his pants off.

Both of you let out loud sounds, his of pleasure and you a cry of pain. A string of incomprehensible words left your mouth, which he ignored, picking up a long and hard thrusting rhythm instead.

Loud, wet, and filthy sounds filled the room. You felt humiliated to admit you'd never been so turned on. You didn't fight it and just let your body rock with each thrust. But you were still very aware that it was a punishment by the burning feeling, that although decreasing, was very much present.

Whimpers turned into small moans that you tried muffling. But it became very hard to do as his chest touched your back and you heard his low groans in your ear.

You couldn't hide how you felt from him. Whatever sounds you made would likely push his sadistic self over the edge if you weren't careful.

Your body gave in to him more and more as the pleasure lulled your brain and numbed the pounding head from before.

'' Chanhee, '' you whined, '' I'm gonna- ''

A sound of loud protest broke from your lips. He pulled out as soon as you spoke and you felt the warmth of him finishing on your back thigh.

You were just about to whine again and angrily question why he didn't let you finish, but his warm tongue coming in contact close to your core made your body tingle.

He flipped you over on your back again and forced your mouth open with his thumb.

'' What are you doing? ''

Leaning right over you he kept your mouth open and then spat right into it, almost making you choke from the shock. The saltiness hit your tongue and you immediately recognized the taste which you swirled around in your mouth.

'' Swallow. ''

He didn't have to tell you twice. You swallowed hard and then glared at him again. As if you were telepathic, he smiled knowingly.

'' I won't let you finish tonight, you don't deserve it. ''

You rolled your eyes and clenched your teeth in irritation. It didn't really feel like you had a say in this so you remained tight-lipped with a scowl on your face.

That was until he dove his head in between your legs and made your body turn into jelly again. This was going to be a long and torturous night, you knew him.

He'd go on for hours til you were begging for him to let you finish with tears streaming down your face.

[juyeonszn]

I LOOK BETTER UNDER YOU

PAIRING choi chanhee x f!reader

WORD COUNT 2.62k

GENRES smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, TW: LEWIS STRUCTURES/CHEMISTRY TERMS 🤢🤢🤢, academic rivals to something idk, kev and jichang appearances, chanhee is a cocky little shit, vaginal fingering, edging, exhibitionism lowkey, there’s not p in v action but they are in a public space so…. take with that what u will

SUMMARY aside from excelling at literally everything else, choi chanhee was also really fucking good at getting on your last nerve.

MORE my brain hurts LOL anyway fawntober day???? 7 holy fuck that is actually insane… ANYWAY shout out reese for being my beta as always <3 and also shout out @sungbeam for the idea <3 laurv u bestie!!! pls reblog if u enjoyed :)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

You felt stupid. Never in your life had you ever struggled to learn a concept, usually understanding on the first go around. This was the case for a majority of your courses. However, for some reason you just couldn’t quite grasp Lewis Structures in your Chemistry class.

Everything else seemed simple enough, your professor explaining them in a way that made them sound easy. They were anything but. You found yourself stressing over whether or not you could fully comprehend the bonds between atoms in time for your midterm. With the way it was going for you, that hope appeared to get less and less realistic.

“Have you thought about going to tutoring?” Your friend, Kevin, asks as you sit across from each other in one of the library’s study rooms, your chemistry textbook opened up to the section on Lewis Structures.

“I mean, no, I haven’t. I just think they’d judge me, considering I have the second highest GPA in our department.” You huff, scribbling down even more notes on the concept, as if you didn’t already have everything you needed to know. God, being a woman in STEM was so hard.

“That’s your problem,” Kevin rolls his eyes, working on his communications homework simultaneously. “Your ego is too damn big. Maybe if you toned it down a notch and set aside your pride, you’d be able to grow the balls to actually ask for help.”

You’re offended, honestly. Because as much as he was right, he was simultaneously very wrong. It wasn’t that you didn’t have the courage to ask for assistance. It was the fact that your biggest rival was the person in charge of the science department’s tutoring lab. He had the highest GPA in your year and you couldn’t stand the thought of losing to him. Let alone showing your weak side.

Aside from excelling at literally everything else, Choi Chanhee was also really fucking good at getting on your last nerve. You were thankful that he wasn’t in your Chemistry lecture, lest he made fun of you for all the questions you asked pertaining to your struggles. He had a knack for crawling under your skin like a goddamn parasite, doing everything in his power to make sure you never felt a moment of peace as long as he was around.

You hated him. You hated him so much for all of the unnecessary competition and constant need to one-up you in every mutual category possible. You hated his overall overachievement to be better than you, to be above you at all costs. You hated his dumb pretty face.

So how could you turn to tutoring after all of that? It just wasn’t feasible. Kevin wouldn’t get it. He didn’t have an arch nemesis holding him back from success.

“That’s not it at all, Kev. But it’s whatever, I’ll figure this shit out myself.”

You could not figure that shit out by yourself. Midterms were a week and a half away, and you were still ripping your hair out over which structures were more dominant and other things of that nature. This was absolutely humiliating. Perhaps growing up as a gifted kid was the worst thing that could’ve happened to you.

With a frown permanently etched on your face, you glance over at your tablemate’s notes. He had messily scrawled examples of those damn Lewis Structures covering the sheet, eyes flickering back and forth between his notebook and the projector at the front of the lecture hall. Oh how badly you wished to be in his shoes, to decipher everything and anything to do with the dot structures presented to you.

Ji Changmin was by no means a genius. His intelligence levels were above average, but that was still below you. How could he understand this better than you? It made no sense. Then again, he was close friends with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. That had to be the reason why. His friend was practically the Einstein reincarnate.

This meant that you couldn’t even express your difficulties with him either. Chanhee no doubtedly knew that you sat beside his friend. If you asked for his help, it would obviously circle back to him and you’d never hear the end of it. You’d never unhear the taunting voice of Choi Chanhee teasing you for asking Ji Changmin for assistance with fucking Lewis Structures. There really was no winning here.

As the lecture draws to a close and your professor reminds you to study for the fast approaching midterm, Changmin clears his throat beside you with a raised eyebrow. You look at him with thinly concealed surprise. So much for being subtle.

“I saw you looking at my notes,” he snorts. “You know, if you’re having a hard time with this chapter, you should just go to the tutoring lab. I’m assuming you haven’t because Chanhee hasn’t gloated about it yet. But if you were curious, he won’t be there today. He has to go to some meeting for the newspaper. You know that guy’s got like ten different clubs he’s a part of.”

You’re not sure why Ji Changmin would be on your side with this. In fact, it kind of makes you skeptical. You didn’t know how credible he was, so why would you trust this information? For all you knew, he could’ve been attempting to lure you right into a trap. However, despite the bit of laughter he exhibited, he didn’t appear to be lying. You were usually a pretty good judge of character.

That’s how you found yourself showing up to the tutoring lab later that evening.

It was located inside of the STEM building on the fourth floor, along with some of the offices belonging to several professors. You chose to go later at night with the knowledge that most students would be gone by that time. The lab was available for use until 9 PM on weekdays, and it was currently 8 PM.

Your grip on the strap of your bag tightens as you push open the see-through glass door of the lab, grateful for the evident emptiness. Though it also worries you, because there were no tutors around either. Maybe the slowness of a Thursday evening encouraged them to head home early. You decide to wait a few minutes anyway, just in case someone shows up.

That was, unfortunately, a very big mistake. As you’re pulling out your notes and textbook, you hear the low creak of the door opening. You think you might keel over and die when you’re suddenly face to face with The Choi Chanhee.

His lips curl up almost menacingly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well well well, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Shut the fuck up,” your teeth grit together. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting or something? Why are you here?”

“Ended early,” he shrugs. “The tutors have a habit of leaving prematurely when I’m not around, so I wanted to see if there was anyone here. Guess it’s my lucky day, huh?”

This dude was a walking headache for real. You were seriously going to walk out of the lab with a migraine if he kept talking like he was so fucking smart. He was, but he didn’t need to know that you thought that. His own ego was large enough without you inflating it even more.

“I’m going home.” You state simply, mouth drawn in a straight line. You didn’t have the patience for his aggravating ass tonight.

“Am I really that horrible that you won’t accept my aid? I heard that you’ve been having problems with Lewis Structures. I may like to joke around, but I’m not really a masochist who likes to watch people suffer,” Chanhee chuckles with a shake of his head. “You’re just so easy to rile up.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, avoiding his piercing gaze. “But fine. If you’re actually gonna help me, I’ll let you just this once. I can’t afford to have this cost me a perfect midterm grade.”

He grins, something that looks conniving. You hate how much more attractive it makes him. You were thankful again for the fact that there were no other students present. It was embarrassing enough to be seen being civil with the worst person in the world.

Chanhee takes the seat beside you, turning it so he’s facing you. You keep your body squared to the table, flipping your textbook to the page on Lewis Structures and preparing a fresh sheet in your notebook. You feel your cheeks warm up with the attention on you, his arms still folded in front of him.

“S-So I don’t get the— um— I don’t— uh— I don’t understand the dominant— the dominant bonds,” your eyes squeeze shut, mortified by the amount of stuttering and fumbling over your words. “How do you— um— how do you determine them?”

He smiles at how cute you are, a shy side of you he’s never seen before. He was so used to you constantly arguing with him, used to you standing your ground and competing with him even when you knew he’d come out on top. He places an arm on the back of your chair, leaning in to read what was in your textbook although he didn’t need to. He just wanted an excuse to get closer to you.

“So you’re gonna want your formal charge to be as close to zero as possible. In order to calculate that, you’ll have to subtract the number of bonds divided by two and the number of electron pairs from the total number of valence electrons per individual atom,” Chanhee explains, pointing at the formula on the page. “How about I give you a couple examples to work on?”

You nod slowly, afraid your voice might betray you again. He jots down a few molecular examples on your notebook, pausing for a moment to nip at his lip and examine you. You blink, a little confused by the action.

“What are you doing?” There’s a slight crack in your tone.

“I have an idea,” he licks his lips. “To make this more rewarding for us both.”

Your brows furrow, his response further perplexing you. One of his hands situates itself on your thigh, your eyes widening. Of all days to wear a skirt, why did you have to choose today? You glance between his face and his hand, lips parted.

“Ch-Chanhee?”

“Yes, pretty?”

You don’t know why the nickname has your upper and lower heartbeats skipping, sweat forming on your palms. You’d always been too preoccupied despising him for being so much better at everything than you were. But right now, his fingers creeping beneath the denim of your skirt, all of that seemed to fly out of the window. You gasp as his fingertips reach the lace of your panties.

“I can make you feel good,” he says into your ear, thumb massaging your thigh. “I can make this worth your while if you do well for me.”

He was giving you fucking whiplash. One second he was teasing you for coming to the tutoring lab, and the next he was trying to coax you into coming quite literally. You think you’re the insane one, however, because you can’t conjure a logical reason to say no.

“Okay,” you breathe, shakily picking up your mechanical pencil. “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

You begin to work on the first molecule he wrote out, trying to ignore his slender fingers pushing aside your underwear and rubbing your clit gently. Your bottom lip quivers when his lips make contact with your neck, kissing up and down softly with each circle of his phalanges on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Chanhee presses two fingers inside of your cunt, smiling against your skin when you whimper, nearly dropping your pencil. You fight back tears threatening to spill from your eyes due to lack of reaction, his digits so skilled at working your pussy and looping that knot in your abdomen. Your legs spread wider as you attempt to finish the first example as quickly as possible, so he can knock you over that edge that seems so close now.

“D-Done,” you shiver, lids almost fluttering shut from pure bliss.

Chanhee judges your answer, fingers halting their movements when he recognizes an error. You whine, that taste of sweet release pulled right from under you like a rug. He tsks, kissing your temple as if he hadn’t just denied you an orgasm.

“That’s not the dominant structure. Try again.” He instructs, not continuing until you’ve picked up the pencil and rewrote the Lewis Structure.

You ignore his palm applying pressure to your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of your drooling cunt, lips sucking at the exposed base of your neck, where it meets your shoulder. Your focus zeroes in on completing this structure correctly, rearranging the electron bonds until they’re right. You feel your climax returning when he praises you for getting it this time.

“Such a smart girl,” he murmurs into your collarbone. “Now do the other one.”

He doesn’t stop his assault, increasing the pace of his fingers while you scribble out numbers and draw electron pairs. Your orgasm inches towards you, like a freight train going at full speed. Chanhee curls his middle finger, tripping you up and causing you to write down a wrong number on accident. Ever the perceptive, he relaxes his wrist and retracts his hand, the band in your stomach loosening along with it.

“Please, Chanhee,” you cry, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks. “Need to cum so bad.”

“Mm-mm,” he scolds. “Not until you finish the structure properly. C’mon, I know you can be a good girl for me.”

You force yourself to persevere, bottom lip between your teeth when he slips his fingers back into your pussy. Pretending like you weren’t on the cusp of euphoria was making you dizzy, but it was necessary if you wanted to reach it completely. You couldn’t handle a third denial.

Chanhee speeds up his fingers, adding his thumb on your clit for extra stimulation. It was like he did enjoy watching you suffer. Perhaps he really was a masochist. You scrawl the last electron bond of the structure, releasing the pencil from your grasp and throwing your head back with a low whine. He hums in appreciation at a job well done.

“Oh my god,” you moan softly, looking down at where his hand disappears in your skirt. “Feels s-so good.”

“Yeah?” Chanhee goads, peppering kisses on your jaw and nibbling at your pulse point. “Ready to cum for me, pretty? Gonna cum all over my fingers?”

You can’t even reply, his cocky voice filling your head as he finally permits your orgasm, walls convulsing and clenching around his digits with a wail. It hasn’t even occurred to you that you’re in a very public, very open space, where anyone could walk in at any given moment. Your brain is too foggy from your overstimulated cunt and the comprehension that Choi Chanhee just fucking fingered you to even consider the consequences of the location.

It only takes a few seconds for you to come to, your body catching up with your head. You look at Chanhee with eyes resembling those of a prey cornered by its predator.

“Why is your hand still inside my skirt?”

“‘S warm down there,” he shrugs with a sly smile. “Besides, I’m not really done with you yet.”

“What are you talking about…?” You trail off, throat dry from how winded this guy was making you.

“You still need some practice before your midterm, no? And I kinda wanna see how pretty you look under me.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[sungbeam]

𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬

model!choi chanhee x fem!assistant!reader

you were just supposed to be his assistant, but at some point, you'd come to mean a lot more to him.

6.4k words (WHOOPS my hand slipped), technically s2l, fluff, angst if u squint, slight pining?, kissing, model stuff and first world problems 😔✨, like one curse word, barely proofread

a/n: istg it wasn't supposed to be like this ;-; it would have been longer but i got impatient </3

Choi Chanhee once made a girl cry because she had forgotten his phone in the car. In his defense, he hadn't gotten much shuteye the night prior, but Kevin liked to always remind him of that instance.

They said that was the first, true moment the tabloids began painting him in a new light.

'Choi Chanhee, Model-zilla, Hits the Streets of Paris for Fashion Week Once Again'. 'Choi Chanhee's Ex-assistants Come Forward with Shocking Experiences'. 'Satin or Silk: the Truth Behind New's Refusal to Wear Alexander McQueen'.

The last one didn't even make sense; Alexander McQueen only used silk, anyway, and Chanhee had walked in one of his shows a few years ago. Chanhee simply hadn't the time to pen the designer into his schedule since.

The one about assistants? Well, they were all entitled to free speech, but that didn't mean that he would spare them any mercy if they decided to blatantly lie about him. He could always trust Lee Sangyeon, his personal attorney, to take care of business, if and when any of his ex-employees decided that a good payout was comparable to spewing filth.

Then there was you.

Chanhee hadn't needed a new assistant in a little over half a year since you came along. Fresh out of university with a bachelor's in communication and punctuality, you waltzed into his life, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. You'd sat across from him, no-nonsense; he hired you right there. (He had not regretted it since. This was the last time he would let anyone but himself do the interview process.)

The best part about you was not that you always had his schedule memorized before he did, or that you appeared at his apartment before the car picked you both up with his favorite coffee order, or that you actually had decent taste in perfume—not… that he paid attention to what perfume you wore—but it was the fact that you could look him in the eye when he spoke to you, and you to him.

"—and you have a fitting with Chanel at five o'clock this evening right after that meeting with Maison Margiela about the perfume line. We'll have just enough time to—"

Wow, your eyes were pretty in this lighting, he thought. The two of you sat before the massive, floor-to-ceiling window in his penthouse apartment. The entire city laid sprawling at your feet while you sat across from each other at his breakfast table, eating blueberry muffins and drinking lattes.

And for some reason, all he could think about was how nice your hair looked again today, how brilliantly the shine in your eyes was from the sunlight, how impeccable your fashion sense was—even if it wasn't perfect, but that could easily be remedied. Chanhee would have to remind you to remind him to—

"Chanhee. Chanhee, are you listening to me?"

He snapped out with a flutter of his long eyelashes. He reached for his cup of coffee, delicately bringing it to his lips. "Hm? Of course, Maison and then Chanel. Did Changmin cancel our dinner or are we still on?"

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips when he saw how your expression lightened knowing that he was paying attention. You idly stirred your latte around with a little silver spoon. "He says he's still good to go for tonight. Same place, same time."

A nod. "Good."

He nudged up the Prada sunglasses on his nose as he turned his head slightly to gaze out the open window. It was an awfully beautiful day out today. The sunlight was gentle, the skies were an azure wave of silk, sewn with clouds of white. "Yn, dearest, are we clear until the Maison meeting?"

You blinked. "Yes," you answered, checking your watch for the hour, "it's 10:32 right now."

"Mm, that gives us about five hours to refresh your wardrobe."

Your lips parted, and he smiled in amusement. There was something so adorable about your flustered state. "Excuse me?"

"Call it a little token of my appreciation," he sang, standing up from the table to deposit his empty plate and cup into the kitchen sink. "Could you call the driver to round the front?"

"Oh, uh, sure—"

"Thanks, love. I'll be back in a few," he called to you just as he disappeared into his bedroom to freshen up. You were left at the breakfast table, dumbfounded. You'd only ever gone shopping with Chanhee for him or for someone else. Not you. You were always on the clock when you were with him, and you figured he would probably take everything you bought today out of your paycheck, but…

You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your chest like the wings of a butterfly. This could either be the best thing that happened to you… or a complete shitshow.

There was something odd about walking into one of Chanhee's go-to leisure shopping stores—Dior—with the mindset that you were supposed to be shopping for yourself. Chanhee had asked the driver to pull up to the Dior storefront even as the regular paparazzi camped outside.

Your eyes gazed longingly at the Macy's across the mall.

Chanhee followed your gaze with a little scrunch of his nose. "Absolutely not," he clicked his tongue, dragging you out of the vehicle and to the sidewalk.

The press already dubbed you a "miracle" for being in his employ for longer than a day. But when they got shots of him literally hauling you into the Dior… you could imagine what they would all claim now. This was going to be a whole lot of cleanup, but you had learned after months of working with Chanhee that he was way tougher than he looked. He also didn't mind biting back.

When the two of you were safely stowed away within the guarded interior of Dior, you breathed easier.

Straightening, you greeted the staff members with a shallow bow, who did the same to both you and your boss.

Chanhee wiggled his fingers in silent greeting, then beelined for a white, quilted blazer on a mannequin. A worker scrambled after him to talk about the piece while another stuck by your side to make small conversation.

"How was your morning?" They asked you pleasantly.

"Oh, it was quite nice! How was yours?"

"Pretty quiet," they smiled. They were about to say something else when both of you were interrupted with Chanhee calling your name.

His eyes were pinned to you from over the rim of his sunglasses. Draped over his arm was a tapered coat of some sort, a dress, and… oh, god no. "Yn, come here."

You could already hear your wallet crying. "Chanhee, I literally cannot afford a single thing in here—"

He pressed a palm between your shoulder blades and steered you in the direction of the dressing rooms. "That's besides the point because I can afford them; that's what matters."

Surprise made your footing falter. "Huh?"

"Silly Yn-ie," he teased, "did you think I was gonna bring you all the way out here to not treat you?" Before you could say anything else, he was shoving the items into your arms, and your body into the grandiose space of the Dior dressing room. He winked over his glasses. "Now hurry and put them on. I wanna see!"

He ripped the curtain closed, and you stood there for a moment.

In your hands were the jacket, the dress, and a pair of shoes that probably cost you more than your entire bank account combined. You blew out a puff of air, just as you heard a staff member offer him a glass of champagne on the other side of the curtain.

"No getting out of this, Yn," you muttered to yourself, then began hanging everything up."

Chanhee was no stranger to the effect he had on people. In fact, he wielded it like a dagger. It was how he had gotten so far in this industry in the first place other than his immaculate good looks, of course. The face of an angel and an attitude of the devil—at least, that was what one article had said about him. He quite liked it, actually.

There was something wholly different about his effect on you as you stood beneath his scrutinizing, heated gaze, as you tried on piece upon piece. He loved being able to unabashedly stare at you, to take in your flustered expression as you did little spins for him in the outfit of choice. For once, you couldn't look him in the eye, and when you had done so once, it had been when his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

It wasn't just the champagne he was tasting.

It was the next morning when you appeared in his home at 7 o'clock sharp, as usual, but with a new accessory hanging off your arm. It was one of the more low-key purses he had bought you yesterday—and to be honest, it was actually one of his personal favorites. It was a Chanel one, of course, and it complimented your pant suit quite nicely.

"Morning," you chirped, handing him his cup of coffee as he stumbled out of his room in a silk robe and with a yawn widening his mouth.

Chanhee smiled at the sight of you, graciously accepting the coffee from you. He leaned against the countertop next to you. "Good morning," he murmured lowly, peering at you over the rim of the cup, taking a languid sip.

He sighed as the caffeine began working its magic. "How are you this morning, dearest? Have a good night?"

You had set your purse down on the island, then moved away from him only to go check his refrigerator to see if he needed anything restocked. Always so attentive. "I had a good night. How was dinner with Changmin?"

"Lovely," he said fondly. "I see you are putting my gifts to use." His fingers danced along the gold chain draped along one end of the quilted leather.

He swore your cheeks flushed, but then again, his eyes had never tricked him for a second. "Ah, yes. Thank you so much for yesterday, by the way." The fridge closed softly, and you grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter to wash and munch on. "I really don't know how I can repay you—"

Chanhee dismissed you immediately, his wrist flicking outward. "Pfft, none of that. I told you it was all a token of my affection," he grinned, propping his chin onto his palm across the island counter from you. "And gratitude," he added. "I don't say this to just anyone, Yn, and I don't buy just anyone all that stuff—but I did it because I appreciate you."

Your chewing slowed and you swallowed. "Oh."

He said it so easily. God, was he lucky to have met you.

Knowing he had successfully rendered you speechless once more, he laughed lightly, deciding to change the subject. "What's today's schedule like?"

You immediately straightened; this was something you knew like the back of your hand. It was much more up your alley.

As you ran him through his activities today, you failed to notice the difference in his posture, the softer smile on his face, and the way his eyes could not leave you for a moment, not even to drink his coffee.

Grueling was an understatement. Today had been one of the worst days of your working existence under Chanhee's employ. You'd endured rough days and nights before, but today, it seemed to have been hassle after hassle after hassle. You probably got around thirty-thousand steps by how much you ran around trying to find emergency kits and emergency outfits and running to the emergency dry cleaner's.

As much as the fashion world enthralled you, sometimes you wondered how anyone could survive it.

Chanhee was just as maxed out as you were by the end. It was maybe three in the morning by the time the two of you collapsed into the backseat of his driver's car. Streets were barren at this time in the ungodly hours of morning, and your joints ached every time you breathed.

Chanhee was quiet as well as he leaned his head back against the headrest to allow his body some rest. He just barely managed to get through that last shoot—clearly the directors had no clue what they were doing, he thought with a dead look in his eyes. That was how he felt—dead. If it hadn't been for you swooping in with a creative direction…

You were brilliant; that much he was certain of. Without you, that shoot might have dragged on for another couple of hours, or Chanhee would have just walked out. Usually, he had a good sense and eye for things, but with everything that happened today, for once, he didn't have the energy to yell or direct.

He needed to treat you to brunch tomorrow, if he was even able to wake up in time—

His inner thoughts halted when he felt a sudden weight fall upon his left shoulder. He froze up.

Your head had slumped onto his shoulder, eyes closed and no doubt deep asleep. Your bangs had fallen out from the bounds of your ponytail and draped across your face as you slept. He could smell the Miss Dior on you with this proximity.

Chanhee smiled to himself, taking his other hand and brushing the hair from your face and gently caressing your cheek. "Cute," he murmured.

By the time the car rolled to a stop in front of his complex, Chanhee had made a couple of executive decisions.

He lightly roused you from your sleep, cooing into your ear, "Come on, Yn-ie. Let's get you to bed, hm?"

You hummed, lifting your head from his shoulder with a yawn. You rubbed your eye with no care for the makeup smudging. "Chanhee? Why're you still here?"

Normally, the driver would drop Chanhee off first and then you, especially when it came to late nights like this. But… what… was happening?

Chanhee helped you out of the car, thanking the driver while mustering up a kind smile for him. "You're too tired, love. I'm taking you upstairs to my place."

"Wait, I can't—" but you weren't physically protesting; your body ached and ached and ached. But this was your boss, your employer. This wasn't professional.

"Yn, you're exhausted," he countered, buzzing into the building and helping you inside.

You couldn't argue with him anymore. You just wanted your face to hit a pillow and be out for the night. "Okay," you mumbled, letting him press your face into his shoulder on the ride up the elevator.

"Good girl," he sighed. He tilted his head back against the elevator wall, one arm wrapped around your middle and the other cradling the back of your head. Just a little longer, then the both of you could finally get some well-deserved rest.

You would argue you had seen Choi Chanhee at some of his best and worst moments. He was one of the most beautiful human beings on this planet, and yet, none of the prior moments could even compare to when you stumbled out of his bedroom to the sight of his back to you as he fried eggs and ladled waffle batter into the maker in the kitchen. He had a big T-shirt hanging from his lean frame, as well as a pair of loose pajama pants on, and he crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for everything to cook.

Even at ten in the morning, the light pink waves of his hair looked immaculately styled. You almost forgot he hadn't gotten a perm in awhile.

The panic of waking up in his sheets instead of yours had faded when you recalled your conversation with him just seven hours prior. He had managed to wrestle you into an extra set of sleepwear he just had lying around (Gucci, nonetheless), before he deposited you onto his bed, then promptly curled up outside on the living room couch.

You swallowed. Now what?

It was then that Chanhee turned around with an innocent look on his face. You watched as it melted into something softer at the sight of you. "Good morning, dearest," he beamed, "sleep well?"

Drowsiness lingered at the corners of your eyes, but you somehow managed a nod. "Yeah, how about you?" You asked him quietly. Actually, that had been some of the best sleep you'd ever had. Something about his sheets with high thread count and the smell of Chanhee lingering on everything. But you weren't just about to say that to him.

"Well enough," he replied. He waved you over. "Come sit; breakfast is almost ready."

Your eyes widened a smidge. That was for you? Now you really needed to go home. "Ah, I appreciate it, but I've practically overstayed my welcome—"

He sent you a look. "Yn, come have breakfast with me."

You caved. Because at this point, you'd already screwed yourself over. And breakfast really did smell nice; what was the difference between Chanhee making you breakfast and you bringing him breakfast from the café down the street?

(You didn't even want to go home, as much as your logical brain was trying to urge you towards.)

So the two of you breakfasted, and for a moment, you could forget, for once, that you were just supposed to be his assistant.

Some things changed after that morning, and Chanhee found himself getting you to stay over more and more often. Even if he had to come up with something stupid like "You haven't watched the 2001 New York Fashion Week rerun?" For some reason, you bought into all his excuses, and even though he knew it was probably because you were always attentive to his needs, a part of him liked to fantasize that you felt it, too.

The pull.

Something had shifted after that morning when he made you breakfast and the two of you ate together at the breakfast table. Sleep had lingered in your eyes, and your hair was a mess, but it was soft and beautiful and… he'd never been so in awe at someone's "I woke up like this" look.

His heart had leapt at the sight of you in those pajamas with that subtle pout to your lips.

God, he thought he might sweep you into his arms and kiss y—

"New. Chanhee. Choi Chanhee—"

He blinked, lifting his eyes from his menu to meet Changmin's. "Hm?"

Changmin wrinkled his nose at him, adjusting the sunglasses seated atop his head to hang from the collar of his dress shirt. (How it managed to hang with two buttons popped open, Chanhee chalked it up to fashion magic.) "You're awfully quiet today. What, tabloids finally shut you up?" He joked.

Chanhee rolled his eyes. "One of these days, I swear, they will render me speechless with their ridiculous delusions," he muttered airily, half-heartedly skimming the menu again.

He and Changmin were seated at their usual booth in their usual restaurant at their usual time. It was their weekly dinner together, something they had kept up since their university days in order to keep themselves grounded. They, of course, touched base with all of their university friends often, but the two of them were two peas in a pod. They even refused to let Sunwoo in on these weekly dinners specifically (something the younger friend was undoubtedly salty about).

Changmin could figure out when Chanhee was occupied with something other than the present. Usually, he was all up and out of his seat dealing out gossip or what torture he and you had been… oh.

Changmin cocked his head to the side, nostrils flaring slightly as he tried and failed to suppress a sly smile. "How's Yn these days?" He asked nonchalantly, lowering his eyes to the menu in front of him even though he always got the same thing every time.

To his credit, Chanhee didn't even react. "She's lovely as always. Why do you ask?"

"I dunno," Changmin drawled, "you haven't gushed about her like you usually do. I feel like you hang out with her more than me."

Chanhee raised a brow at his friend. "She's my assistant; of course I'm going to spend more time with her."

"Yeah, but—"

"And she's a lot more agreeable most of the time."

"Hey!"

Chanhee grinned in impish delight. "You asked."

Changmin sent him a stink eye, huffing as he raised his hand up to summon a waiter. "Yeah, whatever. Okay, but you literally refused to go out with me the other night, and when I texted Yn if you had a schedule, she said that you two were at home!"

That got his attention. Chanhee pursed his lips together, sheepishness peering through his smile. "In my defense, she hadn't seen New York Fashion Week in 2001."

"You hated that year, Chanhee."

"Exactly."

Changmin sighed to himself, and just as he was about to add on, a waiter came by to take their order. Once that was done, Changmin laced his fingers over the table and leveled his friend with a pointed look.

"Just admit that you like her."

Oh, Changmin. If only you could hear the rapid palpitations of his heart when you called him out like that. Chanhee blinked innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he swallowed.

It wasn't even two days later that Chanhee had you staying a little later at his place, once again. There was something jazzy and vibey playing in the background, while Chanhee finished up plating dinner and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. You were over at the small table by the window pouring wine into twin glasses, your hair pulled haphazardly out of your face (for the most part) with a pearl-studded claw clip from Chanhee's personal PR box.

(You blatantly refused, but he then reminded you that he couldn't even use the clip himself.)

Chanhee didn't often think about sharing his life with someone, but it was moments like these—moments when he heard you hum under your breath, moments when the two of you could laugh about the day over dinner, moments when you weren't just his assistant but someone closer—that he could indulge himself. He wasn't a very domestic person; since childhood, he dreamed of places far away from home, seeing sights and experiencing cultures… but if he could come home to you? And experience this every time?

Suddenly dinner was over, and you were collecting dirty dishware and glasses to bring to the sink to wash.

"Yn-ie, hey, I can wash those—"

"No, no! You made dinner; I am washing dishes," you asserted, pushing him away from the sink when he tried to come up to you.

Chanhee broke into a laugh, coming up behind you to set his hands on your shoulders and rub the upper parts of your arms. "Okay, okay. Thanks, love," he said. He didn't even think before he pressed a kiss to your cheek and walked off to go to the bathroom.

Your cheek tingled where his lips had been, and you turned the faucet on to drown out the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears. What was happening?

You felt like you were floating on air as you hummed to the music and washed the dishes, with the ghost of Chanhee's lips left lingering on your cheek. It served as a reminder of your growing affections for him. This was dangerous, dangerous territory, and yet… it was thrilling. It was new, bold, and delectable. It was Chanhee, for goodness sake.

He was the man you saw crying drunkenly over a cat video on TikTok, the man who lended you Gucci pajamas and his bed for the night. He was on the face of every magazine cover, always excited when you could read his mind about a certain piece of clothing. Everyone in the world wanted to be him or be with him. He was so out of reach, yet right in front of you.

Maybe it was the wine making your head buzz with this wave of unmitigated sentimentality.

You finished up with the dishes, drying off your hands with the towel hanging on the oven door. Chanhee sang your name out from somewhere deep inside his bedroom, and you followed his voice to his location.

He was seated on the rug in the middle of his walk-in closet, the white LEDs washing you with light. It was a far cry from the darkness of his bedroom and the warmth from the kitchen. Chanhee patted the spot next to him on the carpet, where he had a smattering of PR gifts littering the floor around him.

Curious, you lowered yourself next to him. "Are we sorting through PR stuff?" You asked, already making a mental catalog of all the things he'd probably want to keep and the things he'd want to donate.

Chanhee hummed his dissent, rising onto his knees and shuffling over to you. Your eyes widened as he stopped close to you and you held your breath. He raised a pair of twin diamond drop earrings from Tiffany and Co to your earlobes, eyes narrowed in consideration.

"No," he muttered, dumping the earrings into their box, then digging out another.

You scrambled to delicately put the earrings back into their proper holdings. "Chanhee, what are we doing?"

"You—" Chanhee returned with a pair of sapphire earrings this time, performing the same ritual as before, but this time smiling, "—are going to sit still and look pretty for me. I am going through the PR stuff for anything nice."

"Anything nice?" You parroted in disbelief. It wasn't like he just threw a pair of diamond earrings into a box like it wasn't nice, or anything.

"I've never seen you in pearls before," he said offhandedly. From a black velvet bag, he withdrew a string of pearls clasped at the end in gold. His mouth parted in awe, and you suddenly thought of how cute he looked. Chanhee, oftentimes, was attractive and elegant and spellbinding—but this Chanhee was adorable.

He eyeballed it around your neck, then moved to clasp the collar onto you. He brushed the stray strands of hair away from the nape of your neck, gently grazing the pads of his fingers along the warm skin there. The action sent a shudder down your spine, and you were reminded of the cheek kiss from earlier.

"There," he murmured, coming back around to inspect you from the front. "Looks much better on you than it would on me."

You scoffed, reaching up to touch the cool pearls seated on your collarbone. "I disagree wholeheartedly."

He had turned around to go digging again, but the grin he threw over his shoulder at you was a certified heart stopper. "Then we'll just have to go get me a matching one."

"This is the last time I'm letting a company get me lunch," Chanhee grimaced as both you and he feverishly dabbed at the sauce splattered on his cream silk blouse.

One of the interns working on today's interview and shoot had come to deliver him his lunch when you noticed that the sauce lid on top was a dark red and not the usual light mayo Chanhee always requested beforehand. That, as well as the fact that the lid wasn't fastened all the way. Suffice to say that when you were about to point it out, said intern became flustered at Chanhee's side profile and spilled his lunch onto him.

You made sure to send the intern away before Chanhee could react.

"This was the Burberry one Haknyeonie got me," he whimpered in devastation as he took in the mess of dark brownish-red on his chest.

"Hey, it's okay. The cleaner I usually go to can fix it up," you said, biting your lip and assessing the situation. You gave a sigh, straightening, then swiping at the dampness on your forehead. "For now, you'll have to change into something else."

Chanhee pouted. "I promised I would wear this one for the interview…" He glanced back over at the clothing rack in the far corner of the dressing room at the dozens of options he had, as well as the backups you had brought, when all he wanted was to wear the shirt Haknyeon had given to him.

You wondered how long you had until the interview. You wondered how fast you could run to the dry cleaners and how fast they could fix this, if only to make that pout on Chanhee's face go away.

He pursed his lips. "I'll change into the YSL one," he resolved, standing from his vanity chair to go grab the YSL blouse from its garment bag. "Y'know," he said to you as he disappeared behind the changing divider, "we'll probably see something about this in the tabloids sometime tomorrow, depending on how bored the press people are."

You leaned back against the vanity counter, mentally noting the time. Hair and makeup would be here soon since the interview was set for half past noon. Chanhee would have to wait until afterwards before he could eat lunch. You frowned, "It wasn't your fault, Chanhee."

"I know." You saw him drape the dirtied Burberry blouse over the top of the divider and you walked over to take it down and inspect the damage yourself. "But it doesn't have to be my fault."

Unfortunately, he was right. The press would do anything for a juicy story, even if that meant twisting the facts just a little. You abhorred those stories; you always saw Chanhee's eyes glaze over like a shield at the "model-zilla" headlines, when in fact, it had little to do with Chanhee's "attitude". You wondered if someone would blow up his reaction to this out of proportion—he hadn't said anything to the intern before they ran out of the room in tears, but you supposed if you had spilled coffee on someone with as much name power as Chanhee, then you would also freak out.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly, leaning slightly against the divider. A weight sank into the pit of your gut; you felt pathetic. These were one of the few things you couldn't just fix for him.

You thought you felt him lean back against the divider on the other side. "Nothing to be sorry for, dearest. It's just a shirt."

It wasn't just a shirt. It wasn't just the tabloids.

Chanhee, being the professional he was, carried on through the interview and subsequent photoshoot with elegance and grace. He wasn't in a bad mood, save for the slight melancholy in his smile when the intern's superior came by to apologize profusely and offer to have the blouse dry-cleaned for him. Chanhee politely declined—he only trusted one person with his items.

When you and Chanhee finally made it back to his penthouse suite, the sun had disappeared into the seams of the horizon, hoisting a bejeweled night into the sky. Chanhee collapsed onto the couch face-first while you dropped everything on the floor by the door and made a beeline for the refrigerator.

"I'm making tea," you declared.

Chanhee raised his head slightly. "Me too please."

You got the electric kettle started and brought out two porcelain mugs. While you waited for the water to finish boiling, you fished your phone out of your pocket to check your messages to see if the dry cleaners had alerted you yet as to the status of the blouse. On the way back, you had swung by to get the shirt to the dry cleaners. Hopefully it would be done by tomorrow morning so you could go pick it up.

Chanhee shifted and adjusted his positioning on the couch. He sat upright, leaning his cheek against his fist. "Yn-ie."

"Hm?"

"I'm lonely over here."

You huffed air out of your nostrils in a silent chuckle, but obliged him and went over to the couch. He raised his arms up toward you, making grabby hands and pouting. "You're lonely?" You repeated in amusement, slotting yourself next to him and allowing him to curl into your side.

"Well, not anymore," he said into your shoulder.

The apartment filled with the sound of water bubbling on the stove and the muffled sounds of the city outside the window.

With nothing said, you could imagine for a second that this was not your job, but your life instead.

You felt him move a little, his arms wrapping around your stomach. "Thank you," he murmured, "for everything."

Your chest tightened. "Of course," you replied simply. Because doing all of this for him was as easy as breathing air now. Taking care of him had become as easy as breathing air. It was just that simple.

He was quiet again, fingers fidgeting with the cuffs of your blazer. Something lingered in his mind.

"Yn…" He slowly brought himself to sit up straight, one hand braced on the cushion space between your bodies and the other on the back of the couch. His face was so close—you could see the baby pink hairs falling in his eyes, the bits of glitter on his eyelids, the length of his lashes brushing his cheeks. But there was something wobbling, shimmering in his irises like the ripples in a pool of water. "I think we need to talk."

Your voice was trapped in your throat. He was going to fire you. He was going to tell you that all of it had been a lie. He was going to—stop. Stop freaking out. You knew him. You knew him better than what the people on the outside only claimed to know about him. You gulped. "Okay."

Chanhee brought his hand up toward your face, but instead stopped short, his hand dropping. He wet his lip, head ducking for a second before meeting your eyes again. "You know how much I appreciate everything you do for me, right?"

Oh no.

You nodded shallowly, hands clasped in your lap. "Mhm."

"And you know that I would rather hurt myself before ever hurting you?"

You didn't like where this was going. "Chanhee—"

His eyes shuddered. "Just—just listen for a second. I promise I'll let you speak, just… I just need to get this out."

"I can't really think straight," you croaked. His cologne—god his cologne. You would die suffocating in his cologne, but he was so close and yet so out of reach.

You thought you saw hurt flash across his face. "Oh. Uh, I'm sorry—" He was leaning back now, and you were internally hitting yourself. You'd never heard Choi Chanhee stutter before.

You resisted the urge to say "come back". Come back, where you could pretend that he was yours. Shit, this had gone too far. "Chanhee, I think I have to quit."

Alarm shot his eyes wide open. "What?"

"I can't keep working for you because I have feelings for you," you blurted, staring him straight in the eyes. "I have to quit because the feelings—the want—I have for you are so strong and precariously unprofessional. And I'm sorry, because this was the best job I could've ever gotten, but—"

Chanhee grabbed your face and crushed his mouth to yours, effectively shutting you up. Shock had you freezing, but it wasn't long before you held him close and let him wholly devour you.

When he pulled away, his forehead was pressed against yours, the space between your lips near nonexistent. His hands were still cupping the sides of your face and his breathing was slightly labored; all either of you could feel, hear, smell, taste were each other.

"I love you," he whispered, almost inaudibly you thought you'd imagined it. But then he said it again, "I love you", and everything…

Everything settled.

"How could you?" After all, you were just… you. It seemed impossible that someone as high as he was could love someone like you.

His reply was simple, paired with a sweet return to your lips. "How could I not?"

You stood outside the massive, sky-piercing high-rise of Vogue headquarters, your heart pounding in your ears and your fingers drumming nervously against the seam of your dress pants. In about twenty minutes, you would be in the topmost office of the building interviewing for a chance to become CEO Anna Wintour's newest personal assistant.

"Well?"

You glanced over to your left where Chanhee stepped beside you, asking the driver to make a loop around the building and meet him back here in a few minutes. His hair, freshly dyed a silken midnight black, had grown slightly to mullet-length; and this morning, he was clad in a pristine white suit set in a classy contrast. A pearl collar sat on his defined collarbones like it was a throne. Beautiful, as always.

There were reporters lurking around here somewhere. That definitely didn't make any of this better for you.

You released a breath. "I've got this, right?"

He passed you a gentle, yet teasing grin. "Hey, you survived me. How much worse can she be?"

That made you crack a smile.

The two of you stood side by side staring up at the building for a moment longer. After you had quit being his assistant to instead be accepted as his partner, you and Chanhee worked to find you a new gig. You received about a hundred dozen job offers from lesser brands and big names when they all heard you were leaving Chanhee's employ on good terms. Anyone who survived Chanhee, and left with a stellar recommendation letter, was a hot commodity.

Chanhee reached for your hand, squeezing your fingers slightly. "Breathe, darling. You'll be in and out and hired before you know it."

He turned you around so you faced him. His tongue stuck out between his lips as he adjusted the pearl necklace around your throat, then the lapels of your jacket. "Wow," he breathed out.

"Huh?" You hummed with a smile in your eyes.

"You still take my breath away."

A nervous laugh fell from your lips, and Chanhee swooped in to taste it—that, your laugh.

"I love you," he murmured against your mouth. Nevermind all the press and paparazzi, or Anna Wintour, or anyone. This was just you and him, even for a little. You could imagine the headlines, but that was the last thing on your mind right now.

Your tongue swiped over his bottom lip to catch the last bits of him. "I love you, too."

There was a cunning glint in his eyes, offset by the soft smile on his face. "Okay, this is it. Call me if you need anything."

You began walking toward the entrance backwards. "What if I need you?"

His smile widened. "I said call me, didn't I? Anytime, anywhere." I'm yours.

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @mingiholic @ja4hyvn @ethereal-engene @justalildumpling @vatterie @yogurteume @kflixnet

[kimsohn]

even if the world caves in,

pairing . chanhee x gn! reader (ft. vernon of seventeen) about . 13.5k words, fluff + angst, e2l fake-dating warnings . smoking, alcohol, cursing, suggestive (allusions to sex at the end), descriptive food mentions, y/n and chanhee are idiots chanhee lowkey doesn't deserve y/n, the plot kinda doesn't make sense but fuck it we ball ok, pls lmk if i missed things bc i probably did, also i wrote most of this at ungodly hours of the night and this is not proofread take this as your warning

synopsis . after your big break in cinema, the last thing on your mind is a relationship. unfortunately for you, the public has other plans, forcing you together with the journalist who's entire career is dedicated to your downfall. note . this is my submission for @deoboyznet's secret santa fic exchange! hihi @heemingyu i'm your secret santa!! (i'm so sorry this is like two days late and probably rushed forgive me) i went through like four different plots before settling on this one and writing it in one week 😭 i hope you enjoy!!! also thank you to @juyeonszn for staying up until 6am to beta for me what the fuck. ilysm. tagging . @invuwrld @gfksn @stealanity

Lately, the only thing that seems to greet you is the buzzing sound of your phone, incessant until silenced by your tired fingers.

You reach over as you stir awake, the action almost second nature to you as your hand catches ahold of the sleek object. You hit random buttons until your desired effect comes into play, answering the phone call and putting it on speaker, and you already know who it is before their voice even drifts through the microphone.

“Y/N! Get your ass up, you’re on the headlines.”

“Again?” you whine, rolling over in bed. “Is it good news or bad news this time?”

The man on the other end laughs, bitterly, and you push yourself off the bed in response. Your manager laughing, especially like that, is nothing amusing, and you rub your eyes as you try to get yourself awake.

“Oh, it’s bad, alright. Open your fucking phone, Y/N.”

You do exactly that, immediately thumbing over to Twitter and seeing your name trending. Afraid of which one of your many stupid decisions has made the headlines today, you press the hashtag, cringing at the first picture.

“Of course, they got pictures of me drunk,” you mutter, scrolling through the list. “Wasn’t this Juyeon’s private party, like months ago? How did these photos leak?”

“It doesn’t matter Y/N,” your manager sighs from the other side, and you feel a twinge of guilt for always putting him through this situation, “you’re an actor. Nothing in your life is private anymore, especially you pole dancing on top of the bar.”

Your facial muscles twitch as you come across the aforementioned picture, seeing yourself busting out dance moves on the marble. You have to hold back a laugh, seeing how something so ridiculously insignificant is dragging your name through the mud right now.

“But Vernon, you have to admit, the pictures are kinda hot.”

He grumbles on the other side before he cuts the call, and you fall into bed giggling, scrolling through other pictures. You have a cigarette in one hand and a tequila glass in the other, and that explains why you remember absolutely nothing about that day.

A text notification appears at the top of your screen, and you swipe down to see none other than Vernon who you were on call with five seconds ago. He’s sent you the link to an article followed by a message.

This is the article that leaked the video. Check out the name.

You click on the link, and your face falls at the name of the website. It falls even more when you see the name of the writer, and you press your fingers to your forehead. You immediately call Vernon again, watching the phone ring twice before he picks up.

“Can we fucking blacklist him, Vernon?” you seethe, gripping your phone tightly.

“I’m afraid not. He’s just a journalist, not a stalker.”

“He might as well be with the way he’s always up to date with my private information.”

You punch your pillow, watching your fist pathetically curl into the bedding. It doesn’t have its intended effect, only reminding you of how weak you are physically and mentally. You don’t get into scandals often, probably because you’re a rare, good person in the horrible field that is Hollywood, but whenever you do, you have one journalist to thank for it.

“I told you, nothing is private in your life anymore.”

Vernon goes off on a tangent about how you should’ve been more careful, how you shouldn’t have drunk your ass off, but you can’t find it within you to care. There was technically nothing wrong with what you did (except for maybe the indecency, but it’s a bar for fuck’s sake), but as a famous actor with a huge fanbase, you understand why your manager is angry. Dancing on top of a counter and smoking should not be the kind of precedent you set for your fans, especially the younger ones, and your actions have a lot more weight to them now that you’re in the public eye.

It’s just stupid because you’re a regular person. At the very least, you deserve to have some privacy regarding decisions you make, especially ones that are so insignificant. 

“Vernon,” you interrupt, “it’s okay. My movie is coming out later this week, so I think it’ll die down quickly.”

“I know, but you’re lucky that this was a trivial issue. If you get caught in something truly fucked up, another movie won’t be able to save you.”

“I’ll be more careful. I promise.”

He hangs up, reminding you that you have a screening to attend later today and an interview. Your eyes drift back to the article again, reading the headline.

Hollywood’s favorite celebrity turned dancer.

You shut your eyes, breathing in and out so you don’t lose your composure. The universe is lucky you’re a rational, decent human being because if you weren’t, the writer who’s been practically harassing you would’ve been long eliminated by now.

Choi Chanhee, you read, familiar with the name. The infamous writer that’s always on your tail. It’s as if he dedicates his whole life to ruining you because he’s always the first to write things that make your crown slip. Almost all of your scandals, from particularly stupid ones at the beginning of your career to your most recent one, have been written by him. He’s practically obsessed with you at this point, and you don’t know what it is about you that ticks him off.

You toss your phone to the side, trudging over to the bathroom to get ready. Unlike Chanhee, you don’t have the time or patience to worry about trivial things like gossip pages. Choi Chanhee is just one, minor obstacle in your way. Just someone insignificant.

A long time ago, the flashing lights of cameras would’ve blinded you. Now, as a seasoned actor, you’re quite immune to the brightness that surrounds you when you walk the red carpet. You smile and pose, reveling in the cameras and the interviews that follow, asking for details about your current movie and the process behind the scenes.

You’ve just finished off an interview about the movie’s wardrobe when a black-haired man comes up to you. The lens of his thick glasses shines against the cameras in the background, and you have to look down to avoid the glare from the reflection.

You read his name tag and your face drops. You immediately look up, putting on a forced grin.

“Choi Chanhee. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He smiles, and the corners of his mouth curl as if he knows of your extensive distaste for him.

“It seems you know who I am already. Let’s get started with the interview then. First question: do you have anything to say regarding your latest scandal at the bar?”

You’re gritting through your teeth as you answer.

“No comment. Next question, please.”

“What are your opinions on the latest controversy surrounding Lee and Co., the production company behind your movie?”

He fires off a few questions, all as controversial as the last, and the only thing that keeps you from slapping him right there and then is your media training that Vernon had drilled into you while in the car.

“He will be there,” Vernon had said, fixing your watch, “don’t give him anything to work with. Just focus on promoting your movie.”

You’ve followed his advice for the solid ten minutes Chanhee has bombarded you, but even your patience is wearing thin. You’re tired of being asked about the same scandals repeatedly from different angles, and you have to admit that even if he’s doing an amazing job as a journalist, it’s not looking good for your conscience.

“Chanhee,” you interrupt, watching him pause in the middle of a question, “do you have any substantial questions about the movie, or are we done here?”

His face contorts as if he had just been thrown tomatoes at, and the devil in your brain beams from his expression. He flips through his notes, flicking through a couple of pages before landing on one that’s up to his liking.

“Okay, one last question then. Who was your favorite person to work with during this movie?”

You pause, mulling over the question. You watch as his eyes traverse his notes, and you wonder what trick he has up his sleeve. You guess that he will probably bring up something about the person who’s name you’ll recite, so you think carefully before answering.

“I don’t have one particular favorite. I love them all,” you answer honestly and safely, with no room for scrutiny.

He nods, shutting off the recorder before packing his bag and giving you a slight bow. The narcissist in your brain revels in how good he looks bowing down to you, but you pay your respects in return.

“Thank you for your time, Y/N.”

You watch as he saunters off, probably off to his crew, and you blink a few times before shifting your attention to the next reporter with an eager smile.

Hours later, you find yourself outside, exchanging the chaos inside for a fresh breath of air. Your director has indulged in an after-party, one you’re grateful for too, but after a couple of glasses of wine and many more hours of talking to fellow celebrities, you need a moment of solitude.

 The air outside is crisp and cool, and you find yourself wishing you’d brought your jacket out to accompany you. Your vision is slightly blurry and your stance is wobbly, but you find a bench nearby to take a seat at. You stare at the pond across from you for a while, throwing rocks into the water and watching how far they travel.

A cigarette accompanies you, and the puffs of air you release are visual representations of how relaxed you want to feel. You’ve just released a movie, and you should be thankful, but as an actor, your mind never rests due to the endless possibilities you can ponder over. Moments like these where you find yourself completely alone, with nothing to worry about, are rare, and you try to curb your mind from ruining the moment by overthinking.

However, your moment of peace is interrupted by a loud shutter behind you, and you quickly turn around, afraid of what the paparazzi would say if they caught you like this. A figure disappears around the corner, but as you hear the clacking of their footsteps, you know exactly who it must be.

“Chanhee, I know it’s you.”

Moments pass before he steps out from behind the wall, holding a camera in his hands. The object, in contrast to the suit he wears, is so uncoordinated that you burst into a fit of laughter, over-emotional from the wine you had earlier.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks cautiously, treading the waters.

“I didn’t know you were a photographer too! You’re an all-rounder for sure.”

“Look,” he whispers as if his guilt will excuse his actions, “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” You pat the empty space next to you. “Here, sit next to me.”

He takes a seat warily, as if you have a gun in your hands, but relaxes once he sees you dangling your feet. It’s uncharacteristic for him to be sitting next to you, heck, even interacting with you, but you don’t seem to really mind as you throw another rock into the water.

“Why do you hate me?” you ask, staring at him with glossy eyes. “What did I do that was so wrong?”

“Are you drunk?” he asks instead, realizing this isn’t the pristine condition he saw you in a couple of hours ago.

“It doesn’t matter,” you sniffle. “What did I do to make you absolutely despise me?”

Chanhee sighs, staring at the ripples in the pond. He picks up a rock, swinging it as far as he can before it settles to the bottom of the pool. It goes way farther than any of the rocks you’d thrown before, and you pout miserably as you cease your ministrations.

“It’s my job. I get paid for writing about your downfall.”

“But… you don’t have to be so mean about it.”

Chanhee recognizes that he won’t get anywhere with this argument because you’re drunk, so instead, he turns to you, placing his hands on your shoulders so you look at him.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? Here, I won’t even post the pictures that I took today.”

He deletes the pictures from his camera, showing you after it’s done, and you surprise him by throwing your arms around him. You’re too far gone to realize the weight of your actions, but he isn’t, so he tries to gently pry them off his shoulders.

“Thank you,” you whisper after he’s done, slumping across the bench half-asleep, “thank you for being nice. For once.”

He blinks once, twice, before he exhales, turning around on his heel and disappearing into the darkness. Later, when Vernon picks you up from the bench, you tell him that a pretty fairy saved you from disaster. He won’t believe you, but you know it’s true in your heart.

You’re nursing your hangover when you decide to turn on the news. You settle into your comfortable couch, holding a bowl of hangover soup and trying not to succumb to the pain radiating throughout your forehead.

Not often do you watch the news, choosing to opt out because it’s usually annoying and gives you a headache, but Vernon’s somehow using two devices to watch his show on Netflix so you’re forced to resort to this. You think you might die if you don’t distract yourself from the migraine that’s been occupying your senses, so the news will have to suffice.

You flick through the channels, not interested in the politics or the weather, but your fingers pause when a bright pink headline catches your eye. It’s the gossip channel, and this is usually the channel you’re warned to stay far away from, but you can’t help but watch the video playing when the headline specifically features your name.

Y/N caught in a secret relationship, embracing a secret lover by the pond.

Your mood turns sour when the clip features events from last night, ones that are still fuzzy in your brain. You didn’t expect to be reliving this situation, but your heart all but drops when you realize the snippet features you and Chanhee in the frame, hugging each other as if you had indeed been lovers. The worst part is that Chanhee didn’t even reciprocate, but that isn’t featured in the headline, so it truly does look like you two have a thing for each other.

This time around, you call Vernon first instead of the usual.

“Y/N,” he whispers groggily as if you had woken him up, “what happened?”

“Please turn on the fucking news Vernon.”

You hear shuffling from the other side, a few minutes of rustling before you hear the blaring of the TV and a similar sound drifting through his microphone. You get a few minutes of pin-drop silence before all hell breaks loose.

“Who the fuck is that?!” he exclaims, and you hear his feet angrily pacing around. “Was this last night? I thought I told you to be more careful, to look out for your surroundings—”

“Vernon, it’s Chanhee.”

The only thing you hear from Vernon is his angered breaths, and it takes mere seconds before you burst into tears, fed up by this situation and the terrible migraine you still have. You just want to curl up into a ball and never step foot into the universe again, and your resolve only strengthens when the line goes dead. You can’t help the tears that come to bay, rippling through you like a shockwave that never seems to end.

Insistent knocking at your door a few moments later is the only thing that stops the tears from falling, and you quickly wipe them before opening the door. Vernon stands at the other side, his hands in his pockets and eyebags above his cheeks, but his gaze softens when he sees your puffy eyes and you hugging yourself.

He brings you into his embrace, your tears staining his hoodie, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care. Vernon just caresses your back, knowing the only thing you need right now is a gesture of comfort, and you burrow into his chest further. Right here, in the middle of your entryway, Vernon provides you with the best version of reassurance he can offer: a simple, caring hug.

“I was drunk,” you mutter when you’ve calmed down, speaking through the sniffles that escape you, “and we were just talking. You know I get touchy when I’m tipsy.”

“I figured,” he says, unraveling himself from your embrace. “Does the press know it’s him?”

“No, but I expect they’ll find out soon enough.”

You follow him as he takes a seat on the couch, watching the headlines on the TV. The gossip channel has long moved on from your news, but you haven’t, and fear of what will happen to either you or Chanhee is killing you.

“We need to contact him before then,” he voices, grabbing his phone from his pocket. “I think I know someone from his office.”

“Wait, why?” you ask, trying to peer over at his phone, watching him scroll through his contacts. “Wouldn’t it just be best to let the rumors die down?”

“If this was a celebrity, we could’ve done that. But Chanhee is a regular human being, and this could potentially destroy his career.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” you murmur under your breath, watching Vernon deadpan.

“Look, I know you hate him, but he doesn’t deserve to be criticized for something he didn’t even do. Let’s just talk to him and see what he has to say, okay?”

You nod, falling back on the couch. The migraine still bothers you, and you rub your fingers across your forehead to massage it.

Five days ago, you would never have expected to be in this position. To you, Chanhee was just a name on a screen, a faceless figure haunting your dreams. How fitting is it that his very first encounter with you led to your worst nightmare?

You hear Vernon dial his contact, watching the phone ring several times before a line picks up. Vernon speaks gratefully, grabbing the pen and paper that you have lying around on your coffee table as he scribbles down some information.

“We have a meeting,” he says, showing you the piece of paper, “in five hours. Be ready by then.”

Just what exactly have you gotten yourself into?

The bright lights and white walls in the meeting room make it look like a prison cell, and the atmosphere does absolutely nothing to calm your nerves. You’re tapping your foot anxiously, sitting in an unfamiliar space in an unfamiliar building, but Chanhee requested a meeting in his office building, and you have no other choice but to go with it.

You’d be lying if you said you were nonchalant about the whole atmosphere, but you try to keep yourself composed as you wait for him to enter. Vernon sits beside you, going through some papers in his briefcase that only a manager would know about, and his presence is the only thing keeping you grounded right now.

“Just let me do the talking, okay?” he’d said before entering, “The last thing we need is another argument on our hands.”

Even though the comment offended you, you honestly would be better off trusting his judgment. You and Chanhee don’t exactly have the best track record, and if either one of you says something even slightly off, the room would probably explode into insults. You honestly don’t even have the strength anyway to hold up a fight, so you slump into your chair, adjusting your jacket and reeling in your patience.

The doorknob twists and you and Vernon straighten your postures, trying to look presentable for your audience. Chanhee enters, followed by a blonde-haired who you’d assume to be his boss, and you rise so you can shake their hands. Chanhee ignores your attempt at waving a white flag, choosing to shake Vernon’s instead before sitting down at a seat, but his boss smiles and grabs your palm tightly in his.

“Hello, I’m Sangyeon. It’s nice to meet you.”

You exchange pleasantries as you sit down, and once you get over the initial awkwardness, you shut your mouth and wait for Vernon to speak up.

“So, I’m sure you guys have seen the news and are well aware of why we’re here.”

Sangyeon nods, urging him to continue.

“I understand what you might be feeling right now Chanhee,” Vernon follows, catching Chanhee’s gaze, “and we’re extremely sorry for the trouble that this has caused you. However, I have a proposition that might benefit both parties, if you are interested.”

Chanhee’s silence prompts Vernon’s explanation, and you lean in, curious about what he has to say too. Vernon had offhandedly mentioned that he had a deal to make, but you don’t have the slightest clue as to what he’s about to propose.

“I was thinking we play into the rumors. We can say Y/N and Chanhee met at a press conference and hit it off a couple of weeks ago. After we plan a few more appearances, we can stage a public breakup in a few weeks so that everything can go back to normal.”

You blanch, ready to refuse the idea, but Chanhee beats you to it.

“Why would I agree to a relationship with Y/N?”

“Hey,” you start, offended by his implications, “what’s wrong with dating me?”

Chanhee scoffs.

“Don’t even start, Y/N. This is all your fault after all. I didn’t know you liked me that much that you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

You’re seeing blood red, crazed at the malice behind his words.

“I was tipsy! And how was I supposed to know that someone was stalking us? If anything, it was your fault for deleting those pictures and being nice to me.”

The room erupts into chaos as you throw petty insults at each other, similar to a catfight. It takes Vernon holding you back physically to get you to calm down, but even after you’ve calmed down, you’re still staring daggers at him.

“Look, Chanhee, I understand this is not ideal for either of you given the nature of your jobs. But if you think about it, when the press finds out that it’s you in the picture, how will you be able to resume your writing? Who will take you seriously if you write hate articles about the very person that you were caught with?” Vernon asks, trying to reason with him.

Chanhee falls into silence, and he looks at his manager. His manager offers him a pitiful glance, knowing that Vernon is right.

“You don’t have to be lovey-dovey with each other,” Vernon continues, hoping to ease the terms. “You just have to appear in public for a couple of dates. We can use your old articles to prove that you guys have had romantic tension, so we’ll have background evidence too. When Y/N breaks your heart in a couple of weeks, you’ll have the perfect reason to continue writing hate articles.”

“It’s like enemies to lovers to… enemies, right?” Sangyeon asks, humming after Vernon nods, “I think it’s a good idea Chanhee. You’ll gain a lot more exposure after the whole thing is over too. If we continue going as it is, the press will ruin your career, and I’d have no other choice but to fire you. I think this is the best decision for your future and the company.”

Chanhee sighs, rubbing his temples. As much as you despise him, you can sympathize with the fact that he has a difficult decision looming over his head. The fate of his career rests in your hands, the person he’s dedicated a lifetime to ruining, and you can imagine just how insane his internal conflict might be.

“I’ll do it,” you voice, watching the room’s reactions carefully.

Chanhee’s eyes shoot up at you, clearly not expecting your admission.

“I would hate to be the reason you had to quit something you love. Besides, I’ve been in too many scandals recently anyway; I think a relationship could do my career some good.”

You don’t know if your attempt at a joke resonated with him, but his shoulders relax and he bores his eyes into you. His eyes are sharp and feline-like, but his brown pupils are almost the exact opposite, thoughtful and deep. He’s a little pretty, you realize, when he’s not trying to sabotage your entire career.

You’ve tried to stay level-headed after your argument earlier, as a gesture to Vernon, but you can’t contain your surprise when he nods a few minutes later.

“Okay, I’ll go with your plan. But I want four weeks, not five.”

“Deal,” you say, reaching over with an open palm before Vernon can even say anything.

This time around, Chanhee does reciprocate your gesture, shaking your hand firmly. The white flag flies freely over your heads, and you can only pray that these next four weeks will be over just as quickly as they started.

The news blows up fairly quickly after it’s published, even faster than any of the scandals you’ve been in. After the announcement your companies sent out confirming your relationship, you posted a picture of Chanhee to your Instagram story to show support from your side. Never have you garnered so many notifications in a single day, but you’re not complaining. You suppose your fans have also been waiting for you to get into a serious relationship, seeing that you’ve been single since your acting debut, so the update is received with a mostly positive reaction that you’re thankful for.

However, just the news and a picture alone aren’t going to cut it. Arguably, the hardest part of this whole ordeal is your interactions with Chanhee, making your relationship believable enough so your fans don’t think this is the PR stunt like it really is. Your first order of business is taking Chanhee along on a date tonight to a movie premiere, the first actual public appearance you two will be making.

To say you’re nervous is an understatement. The last time you saw Chanhee, it took Vernon’s presence to stop you from biting his head off. How will you even survive a whole event together, let alone act like a couple?

You tell Chanhee to show up a couple of hours earlier so you can plan out the details, unable to keep your nervousness at bay. You don’t know if Chanhee is as anxious as you, but Vernon always says it’s good to stick to a plan, so calling him over isn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had.

Actually, it might be a little bit bad.

“Wow,” you say, your throat suddenly parched from seeing his clothing, “you clean up nicely.”

Nice is the simplest you could describe his outfit. He’s wearing a black suit, indented polka dots scattered across the black cloth. Paired with a white shirt underneath and matching tie, along with those round glasses that are definitely growing on you, he looks just like another A-list celebrity in the crowd. Maybe even a model if you would care to admit it.

“Thanks,” he mutters, unbuttoning the jacket to strew it across your couch, “it’s kinda hot in here, no?”

You would agree, but your mind is currently occupied with how delicious he looks in just a simple white shirt and a tie. You have half a mind to tell him that he really should quit his job and become a model instead, but you settle for nodding instead.

“It’s probably because of all the facial stuff we did earlier,” your stylist Kevin says, walking over to place clips in your hair, “it’ll calm down in a little bit.”

Chanhee’s eyes widen when Kevin enters, his eyes staring at you in panic and moving over to Kevin before they travel back to you. You laugh, amused with how seriously he’s playing the part.

“He knows,” you reassure him, “most of my close staff know, so you don’t need to worry.”

Chanhee exhales in relief, his head drooping down into his arms. Kevin meets your gaze before quirking an eyebrow, and you shake your head, not wanting to indulge in his teasing.

“Okay,” Chanhee says after he’s calmed down, leaning into the couch, “what’s the plan?”

“Well, since this is our first time in public together, we can keep it simple,” you start, wincing when Kevin tugs on part of your hair a little too hard, “maybe holding hands, walking next to each other, maybe a hug if we’re up for it.”

Chanhee looks disgusted, and you honestly can’t even disagree with him. You’re not exactly happy about jumping straight into skin-to-skin contact with the guy you hate, but this is the bare minimum for a relationship and you intend to follow through.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you sigh. “You do know that we’re going to have to kiss at some point, right? This is probably the tamest we’ll get.”

“Hey, don’t haunt the poor guy,” Kevin says, pulling out a makeup palette. “Just take it slow, okay? It’ll be a while before you get to that stage.”

You disappear into your bedroom to change after Kevin is done with your styling, and Chanhee visibly relaxes once you’re gone. It’s not like he wants to murder you with every fiber of his being, but something about you puts him on edge, and he can’t tell what it is.

“Are you still stressed about the kissing thing, dude?” Kevin asks while packing up his supplies. “Y/N’s just saying that to scare you, so don’t worry. Besides, after you see them in this outfit, you might change your mind.”

Kevin leaves with a wink, and Chanhee is left to scramble for its implications. You can’t possibly look good enough to kiss, right? He’s seen you countless times, and the only time his resolve ever-so-slightly wavered was when he saw you in person about a week ago. That was because you were drunk, though, of course. Not because he was facing you, flesh to flesh, for the first time in his life.

His overthinking ceases though when you step out of your bedroom, and he can’t stop Kevin’s words from floating through his brain.

You’re beauty personified, he thinks, from the tips of your curled hair to the bottom of your glass footwear. The silver-length outfit you adorn is something to die for, heck, you are someone to die for, and Chanhee can’t even breathe because he just imagined you standing next to him and the room is suddenly very, very hot.

“Ready to go?” you ask, adjusting a couple of rings on your fingers.

Chanhee dumbly nods, now realizing why literally everyone is in love with you, and he stands abruptly. He follows you to the front like a puppy dog before you turn around and start giggling. He doesn’t even register you speaking because suddenly, your giggles aren’t annoying and all of your sounds are like songbirds from heaven.

“You forgot your blazer, silly. Here, I’ll get it.”

While you turn back around, walking to the sofa, Chanhee slaps himself. Gently, of course, because he doesn’t want to ruin his face before the red carpet, but just enough to remind himself of his position in this whole scheme. You’re a celebrity, obviously you look good, and he can’t lose his morals just because you look stunning after being dolled up.

You’re a celebrity and he’s a journalist. A journalist who gets paid to antagonize you. Realistically speaking, even just meeting you should have him seeing red. He should not of all things, be pretending to date you, and he definitely should not be reconsidering his life decisions after spending two hours with you.

He just has to get through these four weeks. You’ll be out of sight, out of mind before he even knows it.

“When the cameras start flashing, just look forward. Don’t ever look at them straight in the eye, otherwise, you’ll feel dizzy.”

Chanhee grumbles as you continue rambling, but you can’t find it within you to stop. You’ve never had a public relationship like this, especially with someone who’s not a celebrity, so the desire for perfection is getting to you.

Any small thing could fuck this up and not only ruin Chanhee’s career but yours too. What would the public think if they found out you were lying about a relationship? Heck, you wouldn’t be able to trust your own self after that, let alone the public.

“Y/N, it’ll be okay. It’s just handholding and a hug, right?”

“Yeah, but we need to look like we’re in love,” you huff, your head drooping as you play with your fingers in your lap.

You feel a hand cup the side of your chin, bringing you up to Chanhee’s gaze.

“Look at me,” he starts, thumbing your cheek, “we’ll be fine. Just stare into my eyes like this, and no one will ever doubt us.”

You don’t get to tell him that you might be believing it too with the way you can’t stop gazing at the twinkle in his eyes and the fondness in how they crease. You’ve met many gorgeous celebrities in your life, but not once have you ever felt your heart beat so heavily until this moment.

“We’re here,” Vernon interrupts from the front seat, breaking your intense gaze, “get ready.”

The flashing blinds you as soon as the car door opens, but you’re immune to the glares at this point. Chanhee, however, is not, so your only focus is being by his side until you walk inside the venue. You exit first, waiting until he steps out beside you before interlacing your fingers together and offering him a chaste smile, hoping it’ll calm his nerves.

He grips your hand tighter as you walk, and you both ignore the press shouting from around you. The screams seem extra prevalent today due to his presence, and you hope he isn’t feeling bombarded by the chaos around him. You focus on Chanhee, watching as he stares back at you to ground himself. You walk quickly in unison with him, counting your steps and smiling for the camera as you finally step inside the entryway.

“Are you okay?” you ask after you’re situated, having a few minutes of peace before you’re off to star on the red carpet. “I know that must’ve been a lot.”

“It’s fine. It’s over now. It was chaotic, but it helped to just focus on you.”

A twinge of heat flutters across your cheeks, but you pay no attention to it.

“I’m glad. Don’t worry, we don’t have any more red carpets in our schedule.”

He unlaces his fingers from yours, something you’d completely forgotten about, but you don’t have time to mull over the loss of his warmth before Vernon pushes you to the red carpet to get ready for the pictures. You take deep breaths, reveling in the mere seconds you get before the flashing starts again and you are simply an object for the camera. You pose, striking a big grin for the camera and remembering your media training. This is what you do best, being a celebrity, and suddenly you find comfort in this familiarity after all the turmoil you’ve been through the past couple of days. No Chanhee, no relationship, no headlines, just you and the camera like always.

However, you can’t stop your eyes from wandering when you get a break, watching Chanhee converse with Vernon. You let your daydreams drift, wondering how he would look like posing next to you for the camera, how he would laugh and answer questions about your relationship so giddily, or even how he’d stare into your soul like earlier before, bearing his heart for the taking.

You know that he won’t even meet your gaze after the four weeks are over, but you let yourself indulge in your imagination anyway. You’ve been touch-starved for so long, so it’s only natural that you have these thoughts about affection, right?

You walk back to Chanhee after you’re done, joining him and Vernon as you travel the venue. The place looks spectacular, with intricate chandeliers and a whole buffet of delicacies, and you make it a point in your mind to compliment the mastermind behind this all, Juyeon, when you see him.

Vernon leads you guys over to the food, piling the spring rolls on his plate until you glare at him to stop. Chanhee restrains laughter behind a mouth full of cupcakes, but even you have to agree with Vernon’s eagerness when you take a bite of the macadamia cookies. You’re on your fourth one when Juyeon saunters over to you, his goofy grin ever-so-present on his face.

“Y/N! Long time no see, right? I haven’t talked to you since my party months ago.”

“It’s been too long. I love the venue, by the way. You always outdo yourself.”

“Don’t talk to me about outdoing things. Look at you with your new boyfriend!”

You glance over at Chanhee, who’s busy trying to see how many spring rolls Vernon can fit in his mouth. You grimace, turning back to Juyeon. You know Vernon’s your manager, but sometimes it feels like you have to keep him on a leash instead of the other way around.

“Yeah it’s… a recent development, but I’m happy.”

“I’m surprised you got into a relationship in the first place. After you rejected me, I kinda thought you weren’t looking for love.”

Juyeon clutches his chest in fake agony, and you roll your eyes. Juyeon asked you out years ago when he was the director of your film, and he never fails to bring it up whenever he sees you. You still aren’t looking for love, of course, but your recent news is probably a shock to Juyeon and the many other people you’ve rejected over the years.

“I’m not incapable of love, Juyeon,” you sigh, looking back at Chanhee again, “I just needed to find the right person.”

The word love has never meant anything special to you, but when you look at Chanhee, you feel your heartstrings pull at your chest. Finally having a boyfriend, even if he’s fake, means you have the ability to love and be loved, and maybe you’ve been denying yourself happiness far too long for the wrong reasons.

As you wave Juyeon goodbye, sauntering over to Chanhee, you walk with a change in mindset. The situation you’re stuck in isn’t perfect, but you decide that it’s best to make the most out of it.

“Y/N, watch out!”

Suddenly, your whole world turns upside down, and you brace yourself as you fall backward, watching the twinkling of the chandeliers above you. You shut your eyes as a reflex, expecting the hardness of the wooden floor beneath you, but instead, you feel a strong hand supporting your back. You open your eyes to see Chanhee, but as his orbs bore into yours, all words tie on the tip of your tongue.

This close to him, you can see his faint eyeliner, the slight curve of his nose, and the barely visible mole on his top lips. It feels like the world is spinning still, but as Chanhee breathes, exhaling a soft puff of air, your gaze remains grounded only on him as he cradles you gently.

The sound of a camera startles you both, and Chanhee pulls you up, staring at Vernon. You smooth down your clothing, clearing your throat as you eye the culprit.

“What was that for?” you ask, throat slightly parched by what happened mere seconds ago.

“Whatever practice you guys did together before coming here definitely worked, because this picture definitely looks like you’re in love. I’m gonna leak it to a local magazine, so good job for today’s work.”

Your cheeks burn as he shows you the picture, and your gaze flits over to Chanhee. His expression is indiscernible, and you have the sudden urge to know exactly what’s running through his mind. Was he just as affected as you, or was this just a mere act of kindness?

The rational part of your brain hopes it’s the latter, but the heaviness of your heart might have different aspirations.

Your phone dings as you finish applying the last bits of your mascara, and you pad over to your couch, seeing Chanhee’s text message on the top of your screen.

Be there in five.

It’s been a week since Juyeon’s movie premiere, a week since your heart has practically gone haywire. You’re a celebrity, if anything, you’re the last person to be looking forward to a text, but you found yourself checking Chanhee’s chat every morning and being disappointed when nothing rolled in. Even when Vernon’s picture leaked and the internet blew up over your coupling, his message bar still remained dry and lifeless.

He didn’t have any reason to text you anyway, so you wonder why you always looked forward to one.

You were the one to reach out first, letting him know that you had a date scheduled for Saturday night according to Vernon’s schedule. A meeting once per week was mandatory, just to keep up the image, and today’s plan was a nice, fancy dinner at a restaurant.

Chanhee, like a true gentleman, offered to pick you up instantly after you’d sent him the message, and you let yourself feel elated for five seconds before you texted him the time and place. You don’t know why Chanhee reduces you to a middle school girl longing for her crush, but you suppose it’s just because you haven’t been on a proper date in so long.

You’re dressed in blue satin, a dress you’d had no real reason to wear until today, and you’ve tried your best to clean up without Kevin’s help. You send a quick picture to your stylist as you wait, asking for advice even though you know you always look good, but Kevin just sends you a string of heart emojis in return and tells you that you look perfect.

Three sharp knocks on the door indicate Chanhee’s presence, and you open the door. The words on your throat die down when you realize he’s wearing a similar blue satin to yours, and it only takes one flicker of your eyes to meet his for him to start laughing.

“Are you stalking me or something?” he teases, pulling out a bouquet of fresh flowers.

“What’s this for?” you ask, setting them on the vase inside.

“Vernon told me to. He said you always like getting flowers on a date.”

You haven’t been on a date in years, so you don’t know where Vernon got this information from, but you appreciate the gesture nonetheless. The arrangement of peonies, lilies, and daffodils looks stunning on the countertop, and you post a quick picture to your Instagram story before heading out with Chanhee.

“Do you want the aux?” he asks when you’ve situated yourselves in his car.

The wind blows freely as he drives, the night sky twinkling through Chanhee’s open convertible. The rich red color of his Toyota Solara stands out against the deepness of the blackness around you two, but you can only focus on Chanhee’s side profile and the glittering earrings he’s wearing. Up until this point, you’ve only ever been in spaces you were familiar with. Seeing Chanhee in his own car is a completely different atmosphere for you, and you’re not sure how it makes you feel.

“I’m good. Play whatever you like,” you reply, truly interested to see what type of music he listens to.

Paris in the Rain drifts through the speakers, and you have to fight back a smile at the tune. Of course he would play this song on a night drive, judging by its mellow atmospheric feel, but you’re not mad about it.

“Why did you choose this restaurant?” he continues after the song settles, looking over at you when he pulls to a stop in front of a red light.

You have to recenter your thoughts to answer him, bringing your vision back from how ethereal he looks against the red tones of the stoplight.

“It’s been on my list for a while,” you admit honestly. “It’s also not super high scale, so someone will definitely notice us being there.”

Chanhee nods before quieting down as the red light fades into green. You’ve noticed that Chanhee tends to sit in silence when he’s with you, not interacting as much as he had with Vernon at the premiere. You wonder if he’s just naturally silent and hit it off with Vernon or maybe if he’s just hates you.

“Are you always this quiet?” you voice when he slows down due to traffic, not wanting him to feel alienated by the question.

“Ah, not really,” he says, scratching his head, “I just didn’t know if you were comfortable with me talking since we’re technically just coworkers.”

“Oh,” you voice, not expecting his admission.

You didn’t foresee him being so considerate of your feelings, enough to stop talking completely, and the thought warms your heart. Maybe he’s not such a bad person after all, you think, staring at him expectantly.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have admitted that,” he expresses. “I can go back to sitting in silence.”

“No!” you exclaim, and he looks over at you with slight alarm, “I mean, it’s fine. You talking is fine. You don’t need to restrict yourself from speaking just because we’re in a work setting. I don’t mind you talking.”

His shoulders relax as he steps on the gas, maneuvering through the gaps of the traffic that’s slowly clearing.

“That’s good,” he mutters, flicking on his blinker, “cause otherwise, this would’ve been a very awkward dinner date.”

You fight back a smile as he pulls up to the restaurant, and you don’t even have a chance to open your own door before he’s unlocking it for you. You thank him politely before walking inside, side by side with Chanhee. You follow the receptionist to your table once she gets your section cleared, and you’re offered complimentary chips and salsa as you wait for your food to arrive.

“You said this place was not ‘super high scale’?” Chanhee questions, looking around at the décor.

Okay, so maybe it is a little bit classy. The mediterranean themed restaurant has a cozy interior, and you’re currently sitting on wicker chairs by a huge glass window. The setting feels very exposed, as if you truly are sitting outside with the stars hanging over your heads. Subtle things about the place remind you that it’s elegant, such as the intricate menus and the tons of cutlery that sits next to you, but you hoped that it was something more comfortable for Chanhee to acclimate to.

“Why, is it too much?” you ask, picking up a chip.

“It’s not, but this is definitely fancy in my world.”

You smile, watching Chanhee be starstruck by his surroundings.

“Just because I’m famous now doesn’t mean I always was,” you start, “before I got my big break, my version of fancy was a dine-in restaurant.”

He laughs, relaxing a little.

“I didn’t know we were so similar. I just always assumed you were a nepo baby or something like that.”

“Just because you hate me doesn’t mean I’m privileged. I worked hard to get here, you know.”

Chanhee nods as your waiter brings out your food, and the two of you immediately dig in. The appealing smells make your stomach hungrier than usual, and it takes a good few minutes for you to settle your appetite before you start conversing with Chanhee.

Now that the awkwardness is gone and that you have a simple understanding of each other, talking with him is easy. Putting aside all the hatred that’s spewed up these past few months, you find out that Chanhee is actually an amiable person, someone you could’ve seen yourself being friends with if you two weren’t so different. He shares stories about growing up and his family in exchange for yours, and you have to clutch your stomach in laughter when he slips in a joke that matches your taste exactly.

Being with Chanhee is natural, so much that you wish you had met him under different circumstances. In addition to being a friendly person, he’s also a gentleman, from the way he slips his card under the menu without you noticing (you definitely scolded him for it later) and opens the car door whenever you get in and out. As he walks you up to your apartment, you thank him honestly for tonight, regretting that your time together is already over for the day.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers suddenly when you’re outside your door. “I’ve written so much shit about you without being an honest judge of your character.”

“It’s okay, Chanhee. This is what you do for a living, I get it.”

“No, you deserve an apology. You’re an amazing actor and an even better human being. You didn’t deserve a single word I wrote about you.”

You’re not tipsy this time around, but you pull him into a hug anyway. This time, you actually mean it though, and you try to disregard the loss of warmth when he pulls away after a few moments.

“Thank you for tonight,” you murmur, stepping into your apartment. “See you next week.”

He smiles, and suddenly, the room is filled with sunshine.

“No, thank you. See you soon.”

You woke up the next morning with a text from Chanhee. The texts have not stopped coming in ever since you responded, as if you’ve opened the floodgates of interaction. You wish he’d texted you sooner, because even though he bombards you with everything in the world from funny memes to just crying about his day, you love returning the same energy.

Where are you rn, a text flies in, and you smile when you see who it’s from.

on set. wbu?

Driving to somewhere special!

oooh spill??

I’ll let you know after I get there

You frown, not so pleased with his secrecy. You hate secrets, and so does Chanhee, so why is he indulging in one right now?

You don’t have time to mull over it as your director calls you back over, ready to continue with the shot. Your costar Younghoon stands before you, smiling as his assistant fixes up his hair before clearing his throat.

“Ready for this scene? It’s a lot,” he comments, reading over the script one more time.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, watching for your director’s call.

The line starts rolling a few seconds later, and you immediately straighten your posture, preparing yourself for the scene.

“Hey,” you whisper, “what was so wrong about what I did?”

He laughs bitterly, pointing to the papers on the desk beside him.

“What was so wrong? You ruined my entire career!”

The papers fly around you as he wipes them off the desk in one sweep, and tears well up in your eyes once you look at his angry gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you plead, clutching onto his arm, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen, I swear—”

“You didn’t know?” he asks, although it’s more of a statement, “you’re the editor for the goddamn newspaper! Of course you fucking knew this was going to happen!”

He rips his wrist from your fingers, inching away from you.

“It’s my job to write the news, darling. You have to understand—” you cry, dropping to the ground.

The papers shift around you, and you watch your tears drip onto the headlines.

“We’re done,” he utters, one final phrase before he rips off his ring, throwing it by your feet. “Never speak to me again.”

“And cut!” your director shouts, “good work guys. Take 30.”

Younghoon helps you up from the ground, and you whisper gratitude before brushing off your ankles. The wooden floor was uncomfortable to kneel on, but you’re grateful that it was only for a short period of time.

“Y/N!” you hear from the other end of the room, and you peek over Younghoon’s broad shoulders to see a familiar figure waving.

“Chanhee?” you gasp, walking over to him once he register his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Surprise?” he replies, giving you the bouqet of flowers he was holding. “I wanted to be a good boyfriend and surprise you on set.”

“Thank you,” you reply, grabbing the flowers from his hands before leaning in closer, “did Vernon put you up to this?”

“Um…” he starts, scratching the back of his head, “yeah, definitely. It’s the middle of the week, so why else would I be here?”

You roll your eyes, leaning back before you reach for his arm, squeezing it tightly.

“Thank you, regardless. No one’s ever visited me on set before like this. Even Vernon.”

“Really?” he asks, sounding surprised, “I thought you would have a lot of people around you like that.”

“I have acquaintances, but they’re all busy too. The most someone’s ever done for me is send me a food truck, and that was from my own mother.”

“Well, I’ll be here from now on, then.”

You feel a pang in your chest, and Chanhee must notice the shift in the atmosphere too because he clears his throat. You both know that this arrangement is already halfway over, so why do Chanhee’s words feel so comfortable, as if you both were in a regular relationship from the very beginning?

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Y/N? Is this the boyfriend?” Younghoon interrupts, walking up from behind with an outstretched arm. “Hey, I’m Younghoon, the costar. Nice to meet you, man.”

Chanhee smiles, plastering a smile to cover his previous frown before taking Younghoon’s hand in his, shaking it firmly.

“Nice to meet you too. Y/N’s been telling me about you, so it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Younghoon laughs, removing his hand from Chanhee’s grip.

“Yeah, it’s surreal working on this movie. It’s kinda funny how Chanhee’s a journalist because Y/N plays one in this movie too.”

Chanhee turns to you, surprised by this new piece of information. You’ve been pretty lowkey about the role, not wanting to tell anyone until the movie wrapped up filming, but Younghoon seems to trust Chanhee with the information because he’s your boyfriend.

“Really? I didn’t know.”

You nod in confirmation, grinning slightly.

“Yeah, we just finished up a heavy argument scene before you arrived. Wanna see the set?”

You and Younghoon parade Chanhee around, introducing him to other actors and cast on the set working diligently. Chanhee is in awe, starstruck by the unfamiliar environment and you can’t really blame him. The movie industry in and of itself is a dream, and witnessing it for the first time is probably exhilarating for him.

After your break wraps up, you lead Chanhee out, standing by the front of the garage. He still has stars in his eyes, and you have to nudge his shoulder twice before he pays attention to you.

“Sorry, I just… I wanted to be a director once, so seeing this all is kind of a dream come true.”

Your eyes widen. Whatever you were expecting to come out of his mouth was not even close to what he just said, and you’re still processing his words when you voice your confusion.

“Yeah, that’s how I learned writing and photography. I used to write screenplays and direct them, but I never made it big like I wanted to. Luckily, Sangyeon took me in when I was struggling, and that’s the only reason I have a job today.”

Suddenly, you know nothing about Chanhee. If events had played out a little differently, Chanhee could be standing right in front of you, not as a fake boyfriend but as a director. You wouldn’t be from two separate worlds anymore, and the thought is killing you.

“Do you still direct?” you ask uncertainly, unsure of what to even say after his confession.

“Nah, not anymore. I help my friends out with short films sometimes, but that’s about it.”

“If you ever want to get back into directing, I can help you out.”

Chanhee looks like his breath has been stolen away, staring at you dumbly.

“I don’t know if I can give you a position directly, but I can definitely link you up with fellow directors of mine and see if there are any film festivals looking for submissions.”

“Thank you,” he mutters hoarsely, “I don’t have an answer for you right now, but what you just said means the world to me.”

Chanhee does the unexpected, wrapping you in a hug this time around. It’s meaningful and tender, and he burrows himself into you as he clutches your shoulders tightly, never wanting to let go. The same shoulders that he once tried to pry your hands off are now encircling you, and you smile against his cheek.

“It’s no problem,” you voice honestly, pulling back to look at him. “I’m always here for you, just remember that.”

You told him the last date would be a little different, but seriously, Chanhee was not expecting a van.

You wave from the front seat, putting aside your phone as he scrambles into the front seat. Chanhee quirks an eyebrow at you, urging you to spill, and you take in a deep breath as you struggle to get the words out.

“So… um, you know how celebrity couples usually have pictures of them making out in their cars, right?”

Chanhee stares at you incredulously, and you grimace, biting your lip.

“I know it sounds bad, but it was Vernon’s idea, I promise! We just need to kiss a couple of times for the pictures, that’s it. It can’t be too bad, right?”

“Y/N,” Chanhee sighs, massaging his temples, “are you crazy? We haven’t even kissed once before this.”

“Well, now is a good time to start, right?” you ask sheepishly, “Look, Vernon paid some guys to photograph us, so they’ll be here any time now. Let’s just get this over with.”

Before he can even blink, you clamber over into his lap, resting your legs on either side of his and holding onto his shoulders. Chanhee gulps, too loudly for the silence that settles between you two, and he’s close enough to you that he can feel your heartbeat thumping wildly.

Good to know that you’re just as affected as him too.

You guide his arms around your waist, securing them tightly before looking back up at Chanhee. The last time he’s ever seen you this close is from when he saved you from falling, and somewhere in the depths of his heart, he admits to himself how much he actually missed it. The fluttering of your lashes, the indents of your mouth, and the sliver of your jawline are all something he wants to commit to memory, to burn into his mind before he loses you.

Chanhee would write a whole article just about your lips if he had to.

“Ready?” you ask, so close that he can feel your breath on his.

He nods, and before he can even lick his lips, you lean in, meeting him halfway with yours.

Chanhee feels like he’s in oblivion, completely succumbing to the darkness that you’ve slowly been feeding him with. You’re like poison, and as he slots his lips against yours, he can’t get enough. You’re killing him with the way you pull him in closer, imperceptibly close as if you two aren’t practically molded together already, and as Chanhee uses one of his arms to tilt your neck, you reciprocate with just as much fervor.

You pull back, catching your breath and your chest heaving, but it takes Chanhee only one glance at your swollen lips before pulling you back in again. He’s addicted to the way your tongue swipes across his entrance, the way you shiver as he gently tugs your bottom lip between your lips, and the way you clutch onto his hair as the two of you exchange life through your kisses.

“Just a couple, baby?” he whispers, pecking down the side of your face, “I can give you a lot more than that.”

He tugs your sleeve down as you whine, tilting your head to give him better access to the area. He nips and sucks at your collarbone, biting hard enough to bruise in spots that you’ll probably scold him for later. He wants them to be deep enough, red enough that you won’t even be able to cover them so the whole world will know you’re his, and he knows it’s well worth it with the way you groan as he keeps going.

“I wish could stay like this forever,” you gasp, preening away when he nips behind your earlobe. “I never want to let you go. My boyfriend. Mine. Forever.”

He hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to your neck before he stops. You whimper, angry at him for pausing his ministrations, but as he processes your words, the hazy fog he was in moments prior fades away, and all that is left is the consequences of his actions.

“What’s wrong?” you ask when you realize he’s stopped completely.

Chanhee is shaking from underneath you, glassy-eyed, and his fingers tremble as he removes them from your body.

“Boyfriend,” he dumbly repeats, and you nod before realizing the mistake you made.

“Chanhee, I—”

“Get off me. Please.”

You stare at him incredulously, and when he doesn’t make any move to take back his words, you climb off him and into the seat next to you.

“This is all fake. Why do I keep forgetting that?”

He laughs bitterly, watching as your face morphs into a frown. How could he be so careless, to lose himself in you when this is all clearly just an act?

“Chanhee, I know this was planned, but the way I kissed you was definitely not fake.”

You sound hurt, and if he was in a better headspace, he would be calmer with his words, but the weight of what just happened is sinking down on him hard. Suddenly, he needs to leave, to never see you again and to not spend any more time in this stupid, suffocating van. He opens the door, climbing out before shutting it behind him firmly, breathing in heavily as he staggers away from the vehicle.

“Chanhee,” you cry, running up behind him and grabbing onto his wrist, “you don’t understand!”

“Then help me understand!”

“I like you,” you whisper, and suddenly, his whole world shatters.

“Of course you like me,” he laughs, running a hand over his face. “Do you not realize that you have an insane amount of privilege to be saying that? I can’t even like you in return because my career hinges on hating you! Don’t you get it, Y/N?”

You’re full on sobbing now, observing as he wrenches your hand away from his. Your fingers fall limply to your side and all you can do is watch as he walks away, shaking his head.

“Don’t contact me. I never want to see you again. Fuck you, for real, for playing with my feelings.”

You can only stare as the love of your life walks away, leaving your universe in shambles.

Unfortunately, just because you encountered the worst breakup of your life does not mean the world stops moving.

You’re at another after party, one that you’d been looking forward to for months because it would finally mean you’d get to catch up with some of your old costars. However, after the chaos that had befallen you earlier this week, going to some stupid nightclub was the last thing on your mind.

Really, you’re only here because Vernon is sick and tired of you wallowing in your misery. He thinks that you’ll be getting a change of scenery by being here, but the only thing you’ve been getting is shots filled with the strongest alcohol the bar can offer. Your one goal is to successfully forget about the black-haired man that ruined your life, and your plan is effective until the bartender stops you from getting another round and tells you to get some fresh air.

You grumble as you stumble out of the bar, finding a home on the gray sidewalk in front of it. Your sequined outfit digs into your skin as you sit down, but in your drunken stupor, you can’t find it within yourself to care. You’re lucky enough that this is a nicer venue, because there’s no one around to bother you to find another spot. It’s just you and your thoughts, and you can’t tell if that’s more dangerous or not.

Your first order of business is to pull out your phone, scrolling through your recent contacts. You have half a mind to call Vernon, to curse him out from condemning you to the hell that is this place, but instead your finger hovers over a familiar contact.

You are so going to hate yourself when you wake up.

The line rings, once, twice, thrice, and just as you’re about to cut the call, a voice answers from the other side.

“Y/N, it’s three in the morning. I thought I told you not to contact me,” Chanhee whispers groggily.

“Well too bad! You’re the one that said all that shit to me and left, so how unfair is it that I don’t get my turn?”

The line goes silent before Chanhee scoffs, and you can hear the bedsheets rustle around him as he gets up.

“Are you drunk?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you answer, giggling from how similar this is to when you first met him.

“Where are you right now?”

“Outside a nightclub,” you sing, holding your phone out behind you so he can hear the EDM music from inside a little better.

“Send me your location.”

“Nope! I don’t owe you anything, you piece of shit!”

“Y/N, wait—”

You cut the call, laughing as Chanhee’s name disappears on your screen. He calls again, neverendingly, but you never once pick up, feeling glee from how he’s the one chasing after you now.

You play Candy Crush on your phone until a car screeches beside you, and you scoff as you recognize the familiar red Toyota Solara pulls up beside you. You’ve sobered up by now, but you still hate him just as much.

“Hell no,” you whisper, getting up as Chanhee steps out. You try to run, but the highness of your shoes make it hard for you to run properly, and you stumble as attempt to escape.

“Y/N, look, I’m just going to drop you off at home, okay?”

You stop in your tracks, turning around to see Chanhee behind you with his hands stuffed in his hoodie. You note the eyebags on his face and his chapped lips before speaking to him with a softer tone, grateful that even if he despised you, he didn’t make an attempt to grab onto your wrist and coerce you into something you didn’t want.

“How do I know you won’t kidnap me?” you ask, folding your arms over one another.

“I asked Vernon for your location. If you go missing, he’ll know it was my fault.”

You grumble, staring at him angrily before walking towards his car. He opens the door for you, but you stick your tongue out at him and find a spot in the backseat instead.

The ride is silent, but you feel him watching you through the rearview mirror as he drives. Usually, you don’t mind his silence, but now the stillness is bleak and uncomfortable, just like his presence near you.

“Why did you call me?” he asks, and it takes you a moment to register it because of how intensely you’d been ignoring him.

“I wanted to cuss you out.”

“Okay, so cuss me out then.”

You sigh, rubbing your temple.

“You know what your problem is, Chanhee? You’re self-centered. You think everything is about yourself, even down to our breakup. Who are you to even say things about my privilege when you know damn well how hard I worked to get here? Do you think I’m unaware how my feelings will affect your career? Hell, Chanhee, I literally told you I could help you find another job! I did so much for you to protect you, to support you, all for you to throw it away because you’re scared of the stupid future.”

“Y/N, I—”

“Let me finish. I love you for who you are. Even if we were destined to be opposites, I still found a way to fall in love with you. I was able to love you despite all that you have written about me in the past, so why can’t you love me for the person I am today?”

He pulls up to the front of your apartment, and you clamber out, not wanting to see his face anymore. The rain falls heavily as you step into the lobby, and Chanhee follows suit, shrugging the droplets off his jacket.

“Let me follow you up,” he asks.

You shake your head, but he trails you into the elevator anyway, watching as you press the button for your floor. He opens his mouth to speak, but you’re not in the mood, putting up a palm in front of him.

“Save it. I said what I needed to say. I might be drunk but my words are true. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say in return.”

Despite your words, you let him into your apartment anyway, throwing a towel at him so he can dry off. He pats his hair dry, wiping his glasses against the fabric, and suddenly you’re reminded of how devilishly handsome he is. You shake your thoughts off, chalking it down to good taste in men before wiping down your neck.

The thunder booms outside, startling you as your towel falls to the ground. When you pick it up, Chanhee stares at you, an indiscernible expression on his face.

“Thanks for the towel. I better get going.”

He spins on his heel to leave as the storm crackles, and against your better judgement, you call out for him to stop.

“It’s storming outside. You can’t drive in this weather.”

“What are you suggesting?” he asks, turning back around to meet your gaze.

“You can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Chanhee laughs, as if your idea is so atrocious he can’t even fathom it.

“You’re funny. I’ll just drive home, don’t worry.”

“Chanhee, I’m being serious. I don’t want you to die, for god’s sake.”

Maybe he registered the concern in your voice because he exhales, contemplating in his head if this is a good idea or not. The loud thunderclap outside has him reconsidering, and soon enough, he shakes his head in agreement.

“Alright, but you have to sleep on the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“Chanhee, I’m not fucking arguing with you. You know what? We can both take the bed if it makes you happy. A pillow between us should work.”

Before Chanhee can even respond, you’re walking into the bedroom, flicking on the light. You grab your pajamas from the closet and change in your bathroom, slipping into the sheets quickly once you’re done. Chanhee follows suit, taking the right side of the bed and placing a pillow between you two for added measure.

“Thank you,” he whispers after a few moments of silence. “I’ll be gone in the morning before you know it.”

“No need,” you grumble, shoving your face into the pillows, “just don’t roll over to my side, okay?”

He hums in agreement, and he watches as your eyes flutter shut.

“Good night, Y/N.”

You’re far too asleep to even respond.

You wake up to the sound of your head pounding in your ears. You grumble, shifting around before you open your eyes, expecting to see empty sheets, but instead you see a man with a very familiar face.

You as the events of last night rush back to you, and you hold yourself back from groaning as you recollect your thoughts. You should’ve just let him leave when he wanted to, but you didn’t, and now you have to deal with his beautiful bare face and his deep morning voice as if you haven’t fallen enough for him already.

You don’t register his eyes fluttering awake until he pokes your side. You shake, startled by his actions, and he tries to hold back a smile.

“Good morning. Sorry I overslept.”

“It’s okay. I won’t be nice enough to let you stay for breakfast though.”

“Wait,” he whispers, clutching onto your arm as you attempt to get out of the bed, “can I say something?”

You nod, and his arms falls back on the bed as he sits up, clearing his throat.

“You were right. I was selfish, and the words I said that day were extremely uncalled for. They were useless too, because if I had just expressed my feelings to you, we wouldn’t have needed to have this conversation now.”

You cock your head, confused at what he’s trying to imply. He takes in a deep breath, as if he’s preparing himself to say something.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much that it hurts to breathe when I think of you. I love you so much that I’m willing to quit my career just to be by your side. I was scared then of ending up on the streets like I did in the past, but I was stupid enough to not trust your words when you said you would help me. I didn’t even like that job anyway, so I was an idiot for trying to fight for something I would eventually end up leaving myself.”

“Chanhee, you’re not—”

“No, I am stupid. And selfish. And self-centered. But I am also just Choi Chanhee, the Choi Chanhee who is irrevocably and utterly in love with you, and even though I can imagine a future where I won’t be working for Sangyeon, I cannot imagine a future without you by my side. I know you deserve better, but I’m begging you to just give me one chance to rectify my mistakes. We can take it slow and not rush things like we did in our four weeks. We can go on silly restaurant dates and I’ll practice getting used to the lights at red carpets. I’ll visit you on set every day with flowers and I’ll rent out five billion vans for us to make out in. I’ll do all this and even more because you deserve it, and because I love you. Will you please let me have one chance to make this fake relationship into a real one?”

You’re kissing him before he can even respond, letting him press you against the bed. He kisses you like he’s been starved, inhaling you and memorizing every inch of your presence as if you’ll let go of him again. Like before, you’re not restricted by the millions of voices against you and Chanhee, and as he lets himself go, you follow suit, dragging him down under until you’re writhing against him, begging for more.

“I love you,” he whispers when he kisses down your collarbone, “I love you,” he whispers when your clothes join the ground, “I love you,” he whispers when you shake against his fingers and mouth.

“I love you,” he whispers one last time, cradling you gently as he becomes one with you. “I’ll never let you go. Never again.”

As you lay against him, bare skin to bare skin, you trace the tips of his hair as you smile. You don’t know what the future holds for you two, but there’s one thing you’re certain of as you press another kiss to his mouth.

"I love you. Even if the world caves in, it’ll be you that I lie with. Endlessly, until my last dying breath.”

This time around, you take things slow, not restricted anymore any more by four weeks, four months, not even four years. You have the entirety of your lifetime to spend with him, and you intend on using every single bit of it.

First, however, you let him make it up to you. Just because you bared your soul to him, figuratively and literally, after his apology doesn't mean you've completely forgiven him.

Chanhee doesn't disappoint though, reminding you every single day why he deserved the second chance you gave him. Once upon a time, he called you privileged, and that's exactly what you are now for having such a sweet boyfriend. One that doesn't leave the vase on your countertop empty by gifting you fresh flowers, one that always opens the door for you when he takes you on apology dates, one that sits with you in silence when you want to and one that chatters just as much as you do when you can't shut your mouth.

He visits you on set when he can despite his busy schedule as an assistant director. Surprisingly, you played no part in this, just the source of his determination when he finally decided to give the movie industry a chance again and bagged a job with none other than your close friend Juyeon. He surprises you for late-night drives and lets you have the aux even without you asking for it. He accompanies you to movie premieres despite hating the cameras and if you ever get asked questions that you don't particularly like, he'll glare at the reporters until they shoo away.

And god, the kisses. If the world counted kisses as an apology, Chanhee would be the CEO. Every slot of his lips against yours is like an unwritten confession from him to you, and every purse of his lips is a ballad from the depths of his heart. He kisses you for trivial things, like when you finally get that one specific line right as you're practicing for a script or when he's pecking you against the makeup trailer walls as he wishes you a successful day at work. He kisses you in the earliest of mornings, murmuring sweetness with his tongue against your hot skin, and he kisses you in the depths of the night, trailing his fingers down as you gasp against his mouth and exchange breaths through each swipe of his tongue.

Even after you do end up accepting his apology, he doesn't stop showering you with the affection you deserve. On nights you're feeling particularly insecure, Chanhee beats himself up and vows to never make you feel those emotions again, waking up the next morning to prove exactly why you're worth it. He takes care of you gently, the gentlest lover you've ever seen. He's the personification of a comfortable morning, the desire to stay in bed despite all the things you have going on. You never want to leave, forgetting all reason and staying in his embrace forever.

You're by his side when his first cinema blows up, when his first screenplay wins an award, when he gets his first nomination for directing, and today when he's on stage with an Academy Award in his hand and a smile you'll remember for ages.

You watch the twinkling in his eyes when he thanks his cast and crew, holding onto his assistant director tightly as he expresses his gratitude. What takes your breath away, however, is when he turns to you in the audience and whispers a confession that you'll never forget in your lifetime.

"And lastly, thank you, you know who you are, for being the best I could ever imagine. I will never regret the moment by the pond where you hugged me, the one that changed the trajectory of our lives forever. If anything, you deserve this award more than me. I love you, my Y/N."

You smile as the audience erupts in cheers, but as his assistant director hugs him on stage, his eyes only bore into yours.

"I love you too," you mouth back, watching as he grins when he recognizes your words.

"Forever and always."

[from-izzy]

the warmest winter | tbz choi chanhee | new

"She has a date with me tomorrow."

​PAIRING » tbz choi chanhee (new) x fem!reader​ TROPE/AU » ​childhood friends to lovers, fake dating au, non-idol au!, high school au! GENRE​ » fluffy fluff with a touch of angst, reader is a skater! (has her hair up in a bun), chanhee is very jelly of juyeon (hehe), but also chanhee is just jealous in general (...hehe), fake dating (i tried my best ahhhh), juyeon makes an appearance as jealous chanhee's rival WORD COUNT » 5805 ESTIMATED READING TIME » ~21 mins WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!) » very inaccurate depiction of skating in general (writing this made me miss skating...), very fast proofreading (twice)

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

hi @astrae4 !! yes, i'm your secret santa!! 🤭 sorry (not really hehe) for tricking you into thinking otherwise 🫢 it was very cute and funny to hear you say "it's definitely not you" when we were on call 🤣 had my camera been on, i wouldn't have gotten away with it 😫 just to let you know that @heemingyu was also playing along too (thanks for that and reading this, honey bee!) 😁 don't be too mad, dek! 😭 i'm innocent—

There are many good things about having a best friend who has known you since you were in diapers. 

For you, the funniest reason would be how you would dead stare him across the room, with the straightest and plainest face, him directing one back at you. It sends the others into a fit of confusion, worries and frustration as none could ever figure out what’s in the duo’s minds. The chaotic reason would be that you would both wreak havoc together. Like that one time during the last day of primary school when you both decide to fill up thirty water balloons to their full capacity and throw them to any of the teachers in the outdoor field, fearless of the possibility of getting in trouble as graduation was around three hours after. The embarrassing reason would be that Chanhee would come to cheer you on your sport, luxuriously with his branded clothes from all his hard work, holding his big handmade slogan to support you as you glide across the ice to your routine. He would always get an earful from you after but he got his karma when you came in, dressed in highlighter yellow, sitting on the front row seat to his singing performance. 

It’s the day that everyone has realised that the two of you are menaces to society. 

The comforting reason, and is one of the biggest reasons why you two are still stuck to the hip after a decade, would be that when your lips are pouted, eyes glistening with tears, hugging your knees to your chest and whimpering your worries in the night, Chanhee would sit beside you wordlessly. Patiently waiting for you to cry your feelings out, patting your back rhythmically as he sometimes let time pass by scrolling through his phone, occasionally showing the funny reel on his screen to get you to join in his laughs. For him, the moment of calmness when you both would hit the breaks to your chaotic lives would be the best ones too with Friday nights becoming obligatory ‘brake time to get a break from society’ which can sometimes be too much.

But this Friday is a bit different. 

Your final skating competition before you graduate high school is coming up in less than a month and despite the nervous butterflies growing in your stomach, you’re still very much excited to participate. You’re somewhat confident that you’ll do well, especially with all the experience that you have and the achievements and trophies that show off your hard work. But all of that didn’t stop you from agreeing to the voice in your head that tells you to put your blades on and just bask in the cold. Feeling nervous is a given but you have to believe in yourself that you can win this scholarship to your dream university. 

The blades of your skates glide smoothly across the new ice sheet that has recently resurfaced once more. This is the second time that you had to step out of the rink and it shows the duration that you’ve spent without thinking much. Even when the doors to the public were closed, through your coach and her connections to the people who work at the rink, you were able to stay for even longer. Staying on the ice also meant that you were separated from your phone, leaving everyone on delivered for another two hours. 

But Chanhee knows your habits, driving to the ice rink and pushing the still-unlocked front door to see you skating leisurely without a care in the world. He smiles warmly behind his blue scarf, delighted at the little smile and satisfying self-cheer when you land correctly, scratching the ice with your achievements once again. Silently, he sits down on one of the benches, going on his phone but still occasionally looking at your dancing figure once in a while.

You don’t know how you missed a whole hour of another person’s presence—or maybe it’s because you’re so used to and comfortable with him that you don’t notice him—but you literally almost trip from the ice and the edge of the ice rink when you spot your best friend with his Hello Kitty beanie that you gifted him this year for his birthday.

“Slow down.” He tries to hold his laughter when you let out a puff of air, annoyed at your clumsiness. “You should come eat. I’m sure you forgot about that.”

The mention of food and the familiar takeout bag from your favourite place brightens your face, the corners of your lips lifting immensely and you kick off your shoes, tiptoeing in the cold and wet puddles to quickly fill up your stomach after a successful practice session. 

“Knew I could count on you.” 

“Duh.” He rolls his eyes playfully. “I feel so bad for your stockings, I swear.” Commenting on your slightly damp black fabric. 

The only response he got was the way you rub the watered part onto his pants, him shrieking and sliding himself away from you on the bench, only for you to of course follow him. In the end, when he reaches the end of the aluminium seat, he only groans and tells you off, giving an empty warning that he’ll never pick you up and buy you food ever again. When you put your tongue out, making a funny face to him, his cheeks blush hues of red and pink in the dimly lit seating area—you didn’t see it though as you were too focused on the flavours bursting in your mouth. 

When you fully focus back on your food once again, leaving him in his little world, Chanhee buries his lower face further into his scarf, away from your field of vision. He leans a little bit back to make sure he can just admire you without being too obvious. His heart flutters when his mind replays back to your mischievous and cute face, and the way you didn’t mind being so close to his face—though he was freaking out about it all. 

But how could he ever tell you? Because he can’t even explain to you when he started to fall for you. Was it that time when you ran to him at primary school, winging about how you needed a friend to get ice cream? Or that time when you stayed by his side and continued to support him when he hit the hard times while he was preparing for his first performance in high school? What about that time when you would just lay on his shoulder and listen to his worries, completely understanding his thoughts, never judging him through words or facial expressions?

He can’t even make sense of it to himself. Let alone with you.

“I’m annoyed.” Your voice trails off in the big area but it reaches his ears easily.

Judging from the way your feet kick the air and the accommodating tone of your voice with your words, Chanhee’s lips pull into a straight line. “Another one?” followed by a deep chuckle and a frustrated sigh from you. 

“It’s not that funny, okay? You know I’m bad at rejecting…”

He ponders the thought behind your words, nodding as his memories play the series or tears after politely and in some cases, not as kindhearted, rejecting the ones who made an advance for you. When asked why those tears were showing, you commented how “it didn't feel right” and alternatives to “he didn't feel at home. He likes me because of my appearance. He's never even talked to me!” 

Chanhee wishes that it would never be like that for him. But it's okay, for he would never tell you his feelings for you anyway.

The realization weighed deeply in his heart, resonating hurt throughout his entire body. He glances over at you, hopefully discreetly, with how much love he could give you at any time. Impulsively, acting with a tinge of jealousy and possessiveness, the suggestion curled out from his tongue without another thought.

“Date me instead.”

Your feet stop kicking the air and both of your bodies are now stiff with widened eyes, as if the cold finally got to you guys.

“What?”

It sends Chanhee into a momentary faze and the blush on his cheeks spreads through not only his face but his entire body.

“Fake!” 

“HUH?”

“Like, fake dating!”

Then the implications behind his words finally sink into you. You didn’t realise this before but the idea does seem great for someone like you who has been trying to get people off your case. It’s tiring, especially when you can’t find a proper connection with either of them—none of them was better than your connection with Chanhee.

“For once in your life,” Your hand gives him a firm pat on his shivering shoulders, “you have come up with a great idea.”

Playing off the slight hurt in his heart, knowing that from your words that you didn’t see him anymore than just friends, Chanhee bravely flashes you a smile. “Do you want to or not?”

“...what’s the catch?” The growing grin on his face tells you everything. “I know you, Choi Chanhee. There’s no way something as taxing and effortful as dealing with me, has no catch to this agreement. Tell me!”

“The catch is,” he takes off his scarf, exposing the lower half of his face to you. Carefully, he wraps the dark blue material around yours, no longer seeing the exhaling white air, “that you get to listen to whatever I say.”

Adding a little touch to this, he bops the tip of your nose earning a deep grunt and shove from you but your hands still held on to the top edge of his scarf, enjoying the familiar scent and warmth that came from it. 

“Does that soothe your chaotic mind?”

“Mhm.” You hum in agreement, feeling your neck loosen from all the tension from the previous regular meetups that you both will have. Especially with you being so busy the entire time, it was nearly impossible to meet up with Chanhee unless he was the one going all the way for you. 

“Nothing will change.” Chanhee shrugs. “We’re just…us. Everyone is already thinking that we’re dating anyway so the only thing that'll change is more hand-holding and all that.”

“No kissing!”

“W-Wha--Of course not!” This time, you were shoved back. “Who wants to kiss you anyway? You literally drool in your sleep!”

“Hey!” With each growing rebuttal, so did the echo that bounced within the walls, “Don’t say that! You know how lonely, I am! That’s so mean!”

The laughing boy didn’t do much to ease you, just sticking a tongue out at you. He did, however, reach out to hold your icy hand. It made him frown, the little mountain growing on his lips. Suddenly, the gap between your body closes with him wrapping a secure hold of your waist. Confused by the sudden proximity, you let out a string of stutters as you look up to see him already staring at you.

“W-What are you…doing…?”

“We’re dating now.” He shrugs nonchalantly, “You have to get used to this.”

“No one is here, Chanhee.” 

He has never been one to initiate skinship. It has always been you cuddling up to his side like a koala, clinging and dragging him to every single place that you wanted to go.

“J-Just…leave me alone and let me hug you.” And he did. Your upper body twists to completely face him and your chin goes over the scarf to rest on his padded jacket. The height difference is why he had to bend to your figure, basically slumping over you but neither of you minded. With a clear of his throat without another word or action, he lets you go, stands up and asks for your hand. “It’s too cold. Let’s go, I’ll drop you home.”

“Wait Chanhee…” 

You drag the last syllable and the hand that reaches out for you slowly lowers. Chanhee sighs, knowing that it can't be good judging from the tone and the way your lips pull sideways.

“I need to rant about my upcoming duet routine.”

“Oh.”

He remembers the first time when you did perform once with someone else. Of course in group work, your effort and contributions matter just as much as theirs would matter to you. But your first (and what you hoped to be your last) partner ruined all potentially happy thoughts about performing with someone else. It sucked that even though you both did win a place at the podium, the stress and effort of basically choreographing at least ninety percent of the routine was not worth the bronze medal on the podium.

For a short while, it killed you to be on the ice and you refused to even step back there without a pressing reason. You're thankful that your coach has always been an understanding one because if she wasn't, your career in figure skating would be shredded at this point. Chanhee did help too, reminding you of the joy and laughter, even making himself borrow some skates from his friend. It led to bruises and him face-planting into the pile of snow but at least he got to see the way your eyebags disappeared over time.

That's more than worth it for him.

“You'll be alright.” He reassured first, kneeling to get into eye level with you even though yours is downcasted. He knows that your mind would go back to the past. “You got a shit partner but you'll be fine. I promise you that you'll do better this time.”

“I hope…”

“Who is it with this time?”

Despite breathing the cool air whenever you could, you could never get enough of it. 

“Lee Juyeon.”

Something inside him stops. Time didn't though because from his peripherals, he noticed how you stood and skipped your way down to the ground floor, patting your outfit dry as if some sort of ice or dust had dirtied it. He hears your announcement, shouting that you will get your things ready from the back room and miraculously, he lets out a croaked answer in return.

Lee Juyeon. 

Everyone in school loved him, Chanhee included. Most wanted to date him, others wanted to be him while the remaining loathed the way he was perfect in every way. In short, Lee Juyeon is the total opposite of Choi Chanhee. 

He prefers to spend his days quietly in the library alone while Juyeon prefers to attend parties. While Chanhee would be in his bed sleeping in the morning, Juyeon would be taking his daily morning run before rushing back home to shower and get ready for the school day. When Juyeon would be in his weekly student council meetings, Chanhee would eat ice cream at that nearby restaurant, basking in the sweetness after a stressful day.

This unfamiliar feeling sends Chanhee into a slight brain freeze when he imagines you both not only close physically but the fact that you will be near the perfect boy for the majority of your time—and the fact that he won't be able to spend time with you because you'll be busy with other priorities—makes the green feeling inside his chest grow with the devil snickering inside his head. He was still so deep in thought that he didn't even notice you wave your hands infront of his face despite having his eyes seemingly on your face.

“It's almost midnight.” You say, opting to drag him out of the building with a hold of his clothed wrist. “Daydream later, loser.”

Oh, you're so right about that. And he's in deep trouble about it all. 

What he didn’t truly prepare for, however, is the number of times that you would leave him on delivered, responding to his messages from the beginning of the day to the end in one go, buzzing his phone repeatedly when he’s doing his final skin routine before sleep takes over him. He’s still understanding, knowing how the competition is important for you. At least she still answers me back right? He reassures himself while throwing the face mask away, the cooling air on his face suddenly turns his mind back to the short ‘date’ from the other day. 

He still remembers the pink checkered shorts that you paired with a simple button white long sleeve. Your hair is freed in the wind, taking the scent of your shampoo—to him. The struggles of keeping his palm dry when it’s around yours, and the bigger struggle to keep his skin neutral void of any redness whenever he catches a glance of your smile.

“Once more!” You plead, handing your phone back to him after switching back to the camera app. 

Despite the roll of his eyes, he’s thankful that the device hid his face from yours, even if it’s only a while. He focuses on the screen and your figure, arguably more than the technology. He directs your poses: hands collecting your hair into a bun, looking down at your feet while the other shot is one of you puckering your lips, looking to the side with a quick peace sign.

Both became his lock and home screen using the excuse of making the relationship more believable—we know more than that though.

It fuels his hate for himself and Juyeon when he texts you that he finished the final part of the routine, asking if you’re free to test it out with him.

After that, school was the only place where you would exchange smiles, stick out tongues, share food, hugs and even kisses on each other’s cheeks, Chanhee only found himself in deep trouble. The public display of affection did make other boys leave you alone, gulping and scurrying away in masses when he would throw them a side glare, his hand on your waist tightening his hold each time. 

It would drag your attention to him, whenever he does that. Such a new feeling, yet fluttering and intimate. You would clutch the loose fabric of his shirt, hand once relaxed on his chest. Brown eyes would run over the creases of disgust and the lines of fury across his usual soft, kind face. Whenever you would ask him for a peek inside his mind, his eyes would quickly turn to the ones that he would usually show whenever he would laugh and nag you to put your upper body back inside his car in the late-night drives. Or when you would do your night routines together every single time, without fail—for your information, it’s been two weeks since then.

Sure it’s all for show, but two weeks ago when he proposed the idea, it seemed that nothing had changed for him and even though he’s glad that no one is crazily chasing after you anymore, it hurt that he feels like he’s been abandoned by you. Heck, he hasn’t even taken you out for a ‘date’ yet. Friendly date, ‘fake’ date. The label that you would put on it didn’t matter much for him as long he took some of your time.

So now, with the owl hooting outside his window, dressed and ready to sleep with his Hello Kitty pyjamas, something is telling him to pick up his keys from the handmade bowl that you both messily painted as kids, go for some drive-through to pick up your favourite food and drive to the ice rink.

The sight that greeted him when he did reach his destination caused the paper cup in his hand to spill all over the rubber of the ice rink. The low-pitched clatter stops the laughs that erupt from you and the male who had his arms wrapped around your waist, his defined chest pressing comfortably against your exposed back due to your outfit, is the one who straightens his back first, noticing the painful gaze from outside the rink.

But again, Juyeon is everything Chanhee isn’t. 

The way that Juyeon let out that signature ‘oh’ of his with the sickening way that he hollers a greeting to the envious boy, not even bothering to throw a discouraging comment that would hurt his pride and would then rightfully give a reason to hate him that has a glad upturned smile on his face, Chanhee would’ve run straight back to the door that he opened excitedly before. Just like your skating partner, you also let out an ‘oh!’ at his presence and he couldn’t help but think that now, Juyeon isn’t taking away his time with you anymore but also the way you speak. 

Leisurely gliding your way towards the railing of the enclosed rink, the anterior side of your forearm rests, your feet still making little circles on the part of the rink that wouldn’t usually be given that much attention to professional skaters like you.

“Having fun?” It came out more venomous and spiteful than he thought. Even his eyes widened slightly in fear, seeing a similar look in your eyes. But he maintains eye contact with you, the paper of the takeaway scrunching rapidly under his hold.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. See you tomorr—”

“She has a date with me tomorrow.”

“Wait, Chanh—”

“Right?”

It’s so impossible to miss. Not with the way that maybe if Chanhee blinks, the normal act could’ve probably sent his eyes into a newfound breakdown that he has been trying so desperately to hide. Especially not in front of Juyeon, he’s not about to cry now. 

Your chest raises, inhaling the stuffy air to your beating lungs. Lips parted to start speaking your thoughts and Chanhee watched with a more definite crease between his eyebrows as you could only articulate the sounds of some familiar words, unable to audibly tell him anything. For what seemed like forever, you both just looked at each other. You tilt your head every single time your best friend directs his attention away to his house slippers back to your eyes. Beneath the tough exterior that he’s putting on, it’s easy for you to see how something is troubling him. 

The first one is his attire. Unless you were in a life-or-death situation, there is no way Chanhee would stain the white satin button-up and long pants. There was one time when you were begging profusely for a late-night snack and spontaneous hangout but even then, he just nodded and hummed into the phone, telling you that he needs to “keep the white pure, away from the sins of the outside world.” 

Juyeon quietly leaves the scene, hand giving a tight squeeze before disappearing for the night.

“Let’s sit down?” You offer, uncertainty clouding your judgement. 

The bench awaits patiently for you, the jacket lazily slopped over it. You’re so tense and unsure about the situation that even taking the steps up the dry stairs was so quiet—more silent than the shaking exhales that the puff of coloured air made due to the cold. Your fingers brush against the fine hair of the material but you didn’t put it on yourself. The tips of your hair flip around to see your best friend not even anywhere near the bottom step, still frozen in the same place as before.

Knowing that you won’t be in the mood to skate after whatever confrontation and conversation you’ll have with him, you pack your bags, slipping off into comfortable shoes for running—if you really have to. Chanhee’s bangs fell over his eyes easily with the downward tilt of his head, a miracle that his neck wasn’t cramping right now. From the shadows on the ground, a long line goes over his head and his shoulder lazes a new heavy material. The body part tries to shake the warmth stubbornly but a click of your tongue is what stops Chanhee from flopping around like a dying fish.

“Did you know my dad used to be in the mafia?”

It’s supposed to take you both out of this challenging atmosphere but you know that even though his eyes are hidden because of his posture and his grown strands, he isn’t going to return the playfulness. The strap of your backpack is the only one that knows your nervousness, croaking due to the leather material, your nails probably engraving this moment into its skin.

“Juyeon…huh?” 

A broken laugh comes out from you, eyes wandering to the background space around his head area. Has the wall always had that crack on the wall? Oh…how is the fly surviving in this weather? Is it raining outsi—

“Do you like Juyeon?”

“W-What?” Why did the question hurt so much to hear? “I’m dating you, Chanhee.”

“I don’t think anyone believes it to be honest.” He shrugs, adamant about staying focused on the topic. “I just wanted to know,” His eyes dart around the place, anywhere but to you, “wanting to know if you’re part of the ninety percent of our cohort that likes him.”

“Oh.” It was out of nowhere but being suspicious isn’t the right word to describe it. It was more to curiosity as to why Chanhee would just ask such a thing all of a sudden. “I do think he’s attractive.” You shrug leisurely, unaware of the screaming in his head. “He’s a good partner too.”

Chanhee tries his best to mask the growing ache in his chest, blankly nodding. “He is your type after all.”

“I have a type?” One of your eyebrows rises, “I didn’t even know that myself.”

“Right…” Finally, the food is shoved into your chest, just like how it’s always been. If so, then why did it hurt you when he told you, “Date him then.”

An immeasurable kind of clench was made by the muscles around your heart.

“W-What?”

Thank god you changed shoes because he stormed out right after.

Your phone also became silent, no more life was given to Chanhee. What annoyed you most wasn’t the ‘good’ news that spread to the boys but the fact that he would make it so obvious that he hated you whenever you would make your presence known to him.

“Talk to him after this.” Juyeon encourages you, handing your bottle of water from his hand.

“I can’t.” You huffed. “He treats me like a plague.”

You quite literally cannot have this in your mind right now. The competition is in a few hours and you messed up both of your rehearsals for tonight. The slight pain that throbs from your lower palm will be, you swear, used to slap someone who truly deserves a wake-up call. As the sun rose each day for the past week, it also burnt along your hopes that Chanhee would talk and ease your worries so that you could dance freely, marking your perfect twirls on the ice that shines along with you. 

Juyeon’s eyes relax, sending you a slumped smile with half-lidded eyes. “Does he know about tonight?”

You did indeed send him a message about today but you’re doubtful that he would come. You even tried bribing him with free food but maybe the boy knows that your anger might turn to something more, saving himself from your hits and complaints. 

But you’re just unaware of what he’s truly trying to save himself from.

The sunset marks the start of the open doors. Relatives, schoolmates, acquaintances and even strangers bustle through with their appropriate clothes—including a young girl with short sleeves that you are sure would throw a fit to ask her mother for a jacket—all gathered to support the skaters, especially those who have university representatives to impress.

With the cute bright pink mittens, the waving hands catch your attention quickly. You send a quick wave back to your sister who waves the supportive banner she made, along with your parents who gave you thumbs up, placing their hands around the circumference of their mouth to shout and holler at you.

It’s all so awesome.

But it would’ve been perfect had someone else come.

The realisation makes your heart drop. Chanhee has always come to all your competitions without fail but this one, when everything is on the line. Before you have to completely push your phone away, your thumbs search for his contacts, automatically just checking in your recent section. Even though the relationship between you is ambiguous, you couldn’t find it in you to change his name which implies a romantic title for him.

It seems right.

It seemed that no one should have that title but him.

Your eyelids collect as much water as they can before it spills onto the phone screen. It seemingly glitches the words on the glass, distorting your spam messages for him. “Just come…please…” you whisper before texting him the same exact words that you just said.

But he decides to crush the final hopes that you ever had in him, leaving you on seen once again. The familiar shout that gathers all the players rings through your ears and Juyeon’s figure behind you also tells you that it’s time to push Chanhee aside for now.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Ju…” The truth spills out and even though the boy has things to ask, he decides to let you rant before going. “But I want him to be.”

You know this now with the distance he puts between you. 

It’s suffocating. 

More than dehydration. More than the minus temperature. More than the scratch on your hand.

“I just want him, Juyeon…” Beads in your eyes, shaking lips and true feelings. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He nods, wishing the best for you. “I knew that my feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated.” 

It lifted off a weight in your chest, knowing that Juyeon’s reassurance that you would both still stay friends. You both sway beautifully on the ice, balancing and leaving the audience in awe, judges in amazement and competitors in envy. If there is one thing you can take away from this, is that for you, being on ice with someone else can truly be fun. You both promise to meet each other on the ice next time, in the future, professionally and relieve this perfect teammate chemistry once again.

And now, you’re shaking your limbs, trying your best to ease your nerves.

Still no sign of him.

You force your neck to look down, just focusing on the marks of the moulded plastic and leather, plunging the front spikes of the shoes into the floor.

“That’s…going to make a mark.”

That voice.

The one that could ever stare at you with a blank stare and contain his laughter. The one that would leave others in fear whenever a sinister smile and wiggling of eyebrows would be sent to each other. The same one that stands beside you, taking the blame alone when the drenched teacher finds you both.

The same one that would usually sit by your sister and make the banner with her, splashing on extra glitter and Hello Kitty stickers. The same one that would lend his luxury brand accessories, not getting mad if you accidentally broke it.

It propels you forward to his already half-opened arms, waiting for you, always reserved for you. Just as you promised to yourself, Chanhee takes the hits on his chest, listening to your words and letting his clothes seep your cries.

“I know, I’m sorry.” One hand encircles your waist from behind, the other patting your hairsprayed scalp. “I won’t lie that I skipped the one you did with Juyeon but I know your parents recorded it so,” he shrugs, “but I’m here for the main performance. Yours.”

Your small chuckle made him do the same. “You’re not wearing a stupid outfit.”

Chanhee hums. “I thought I would be a very supportive friend and won’t embarrass you for this event.”

“Boyfriend.”

“W-What?”

“You’re my boyfriend.”

It leaves him in a daze but he knows that you weren’t joking. To him, his gulp seemed a bit loud but maybe with the way you slowly left his arms, you might’ve missed it. 

“I love you, Chanhee.” Your eyes searched for rejection but all he did was blink at you rapidly. You took this as a sign to keep going. “I think I always have and you being idiotic just made it clear to me.”

“O-Oh…”

“D-Do you—” You shake your head, waving your hands the same way to him. “Actually don’t tell me! Let me skate first. J-Just watch me…”

When was the last time Chanhee has seen you so flustered? It leaves him breathless and his heart soaring and he knows within himself that he wants to be the only one to ever put you in that state. He gives a nod, a smile plastered on his face. You thought he would join your parents on the bench but he stays near the entrance of the rink, giving your lower back the lightest touch, whispering you a final message before you enter the spotlight.

The message rings in your ear the whole time. The music suddenly fades but every time you could catch a glimpse of Chanhee, you know that he didn’t say it for you to feel flustered and fail. 

And fail, did you not. 

The reward on the podium with a gold medal hanging around your neck sends you many obstacles of representatives who want you to join the team. But they could wait.

Just like a few minutes ago, your arms circles his neck, pushing Chanhee’s lips to your own. A few seconds before your lips meet him, the boy lets out a little ‘hmph’ before he softens, his eyes closing in the same time and way yours does. The way the cold replaces the warmth of his lips leaves you both chuckling even when he momentarily pushes you away to save himself from the tickles that you gave his waist. But once again, the words that he whispers against your shy lips remind you that his eyes have always held the same love that you have given him and the way your lips move passionately in sync with his, tells you that he wasn’t playing around with his words.

With your heart.

With you.

“I love you,” he tells you with his lips.

The motives behind his proposal with this whole fiasco become clear and the redness on your face is no longer due to the energy-consuming routine that you just performed. It deepens when he gives you his mittens, slipping them through your fingers and messaging each one with care. It deepens further when he lends you a fabric to keep your throat healthy so that you can confess to him again. It deepens even more when he realises that you’re shivering after the adrenaline of your sport drains you and he wraps his scent around your uniform.

“Thanks for making my winters warmer.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

[cloverdaisies]

# UR SUCH AN EMO! ｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

— choi chanhee x gn!reader

₊⊹⁀➴ description: the popular kid meets his unconventional match in one of the school’s most hated emo’s. from lab partners to cleaning buddies: the events that caused social royalty to fall in love with someone from the very bottom of the high school food chain. ｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

₊⊹⁀➴ genre: angst, fluff, enemies to lovers.

₊⊹⁀➴ word count: 4.1k+

₊⊹⁀➴ a/n: happy belated birthday @sanaxo-o , ily a lot, hope you enjoy this little piece i put together 4 u 🫶 it’s been in the works for a while but i really wanted to complete it for you. ｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

₊⊹⁀➴ warnings: mentions of bullying, frequent arguing.

The sound of crashing drums and noisy guitar riffs leaked from your headphones, lazily dragging your shoes across the pavement as you were unwillingly met with the gates of the hell that was school. As usual, the halls were like the inside of a incredibly overpopulated zoo, with heads being met with the sides of lockers and the boisterous roars of students celebrating the beginning of the last semester of senior year.

You couldn’t be more excited to finish school, considering school simply wasn’t the safest place for anyone with alternative taste in anything. You clumsily made your way to your locker, abruptly pausing the music in your headphones before placing them on the shelf and shutting it with a slam.

“Someone’s not happy.” You sighed at the voice beside you, a familiar voice that has haunted your nightmares since you were at least 14 years old. “If you wear anymore eyeliner, you’re gonna start looking like your cosplaying a panda.”

“Good one.” One of other boys perked up, cheering on the other with a pitiful snicker sucking up to him like a little minion in goggles and dungarees ready to steal the moon.

Sunwoo definitely wasn’t the nicest guy to be around in high school, it certainly didn’t help that your locker was conveniently placed next to his so you got the divine pleasure of seeing him everyday. It also didn’t help that his group of minions congregated around that space 24/7 during every break like they had nowhere else to be.

However, he wasn’t the worst of the bunch. If anything it was a boy called Chanhee, he always had something to say, in fact too many things. “Your headphones are making my ears bleed.” , “Try not to wear black challenge!” , or just simple things sometimes like “I HATE your shoes.” You couldn’t deny you brought that upon yourself after one time you’d made fun of the fact he’d worn a beret to school, yeah the entire, “dAd yOu CaNt dO tHiS i WaNna gO tO fAsHioN sChoOl” comment you’d made didn’t sit well with him.

He stood towards the back of the small circle, him, Sunwoo and Changmin were the only ones that had arrived on time surprisingly, as some of that group seemed to only turn up half way through the day when they felt like it. The others weren’t as bad either, Hyunjae was a nice guy and so was Haknyeon, the rest you hadn’t had too much interaction with, thankfully.

Breezing past them with a sigh, you threw your bag over your shoulder and decided it’s best to ignore them rather than make any attempt to clap back. Besides how could you waste anytime when you had the extremely fun class that was chemistry to rush to?

“Okay class, welcome. Take your seats.” Your chemistry teacher welcomed you in with a jovial smile, his combover gelled so stiffly it would survive a hurricane intact. "We're jumping straight into some lab work today, I've assigned you partners based on ability."

The entire class let out a unanimous groan at the thought of set partners, the excited glances made by bestfriends across the room being replaced with long frowns. However, for you, this was simply the best case scenario since you didn’t have any friends in this class. At least that’s what you thought until the teacher spoke some unfathomable words that sent you spiralling as soon as they fell from his tongue.

���Y/n, you’re with Chanhee on this bay.” He called from the second row, you glanced over at Chanhee who rolled his eyes with a groan grabbing his bag and grumpily shoving it down next to his stool.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not happy either.” You laughed sarcastically, sitting beside him as he rested his head on the desk in frustration.

The teacher went on to explain the test you’d be carrying out, different chemicals reactivity in water, recording the results and comparing the differences. It was pretty simple, since it’s was just a warm up to ease the class into the semester. Hopefully the time would pass fairly quickly so you wouldn’t have to sit next to mr. miserable for much longer.

“Are you just going to sit there or help?” You sighed, watching the boy sit up with sleepy eyes peaking through the strands of his dyed blonde hair. You passed him a pair of protective goggles, dropping them in front of him as he jolted awake.

“Sorry, I fell asleep you’re that boring.” He replied satirically placing his glasses on. He sported a false smile gleaming off his white teeth, his eyes creasing and smile lines faintly showing at each peak of his lips.

“Charming.” You raised your eyebrows momentarily, filling the plastic basin with water and placing it on the table in front of you. You took turns dropping chemicals into the water watching the the chemicals fizz or even catch light at times. Recording the sound and visual on paper as well as the time taken for it to stop.

“So why do you hate me so much?” You asked the boy curiously, crossing your arms as you watched him scribble down some more notes in his workbook.

“I don’t?” He laughed slightly, shaking his head, his golden earrings dazzling under the light. “I’m more annoyed I have to work with you, because to him, hopefully I can get your grades up.”

“So you’re crying because you think you’re doing charity work? Get over yourself.” You snickered, not breaking eye contact as he stared you down with an intense glare, his pupils darkened in silent rage.

“Maybe you should get over yourself, huh? You ever thought about that, don’t talk to me on your high horse when you had no reason to make fun of me for what I wear in the first place.” Chanhee spat, thankfully the ringing of the school bell paused the argument, diffusing the tension in the air.

The class was dismissed, and in your next few classes you couldn’t stop thinking about what you would have said back to him in that conversation. Perhaps something along the lines of “Isn’t that what you and your group have done to me everyday for the past 5 years?” If the bell hadn’t rang there would have probably been some sort of cat fight break out.

Soon it was lunch, and as you were sitting with your friends on your own table you felt an intense stare across the room. You looked up inquisitively at the feeling of eyes on you, spotting the same group of boys Sunwoo, Chanhee and the others you like to call the minions ( come on they literally have one called Kevin ) staring at you like hawks. You rolled your eyes and continued talking with your friends, eyes occasionally wandering to the other side of the room. You needed another drink, squashing your empty carton of apple juice and throwing it into the trash can nearby —landing a pretty cool trick shot.

“He’s not very happy with you.” A polite voice chimed from in front of you in the line of the canteen, “Said you got in a bit of an argument.”

You turned to see Haknyeon, nibbling on cherry tomatoes from a plastic packet like a small mouse, whilst heartily filling up his lunch tray and sliding it across the surface.

“I can tell that, the minions seem to have a bit of a staring problem.” You chuckled looking over the group where they were trying to land food into each others mouths from large distances, yelling boyishly when Juyeon caught a grape from across the cafeteria.

“He’ll get over it.” Haknyeon shrugged, as he got to the front of the line ready to pay for his food. He held out the plastic packet of tomatoes he was snacking on and offered. “Tomato?”

“No thanks, I hate them.” You laughed slightly, listening to the beep as his card was accepted on the lunch reader.

“More for me then.” He shrugged, stuffing his face with another before flashing the brightest and cutest smile you’d ever seen. You paid for your drink, sitting back at the table with a sigh, glancing back over at Chanhee as he smiled and laughed along with the other boys in glee.

Next period after Lunch was English, the sound of the teacher reciting quotes from The Great Gatsby singing you to sleep like a lullaby. It also didn’t help in front of you, Chanhee and Hyunjae were sat working away taking notes. After the argument you’d had this morning with him, the presence of Chanhee couldn’t put you anymore on edge.

“Hey y/n… y/n? Wake up.” Hyunjae flung a pencil towards your head, abruptly causing you to sit up straight at your desk eyes sensitive to the bright lights around you.

“What?” You rubbed the top if your head where he’d hit and groaned in annoyance. “I was getting a good amount of sleep there.”

“I’m having a party on Friday, you wanna come?” He asked, with bright eyes and a grin of genuine interest spreading across his face.

“You know, I always say no.” You replied with a sarcastic jingle, situating your head back on your desk and yawning tiredly.

“That is not happening. Even if you say yes there is no way I’m letting you come.” Chanhee chimed in with a shocked gasp, laughing to shake off the thought of you being at one of Hyunjae’s events.

“Can’t you just be nice? Y/n’s my friend and actually is pretty damn cool if you get to know-” Hyunjae laughed, thinking the other boy couldn’t be serious but was sharply cut off before he could finish his sentence.

“Are you even my friend?” Chanhee scoffed, immediately going back to his work and not making eye contact with him. Hyunjae shrugged at you, offering a sympathetic smile and going back to his own work.

You didn’t pay anymore attention to the pair of them, your head reintroducing itself back to the table planning to nap the rest of the lesson away.

“Jesus wake up.” You felt a push at your arm, “You can’t interrupt my sleep and then start snoozing behind me.”

You looked up at Chanhee in annoyance, raising an eyebrow whilst observing the disgusted look on his face. You smiled, taking a breath, choosing your words carefully before speaking to the brown eyed boy.

“Will you do us both a favor? And stop speaking to me?” You spoke calmly with a false sweetness loading each word like a bitter bullet, watching as his eyes rolled to the top of their sockets and back.

“That’s enough! Y/n and Chanhee! Both of you out of the classroom.” The teacher demanded, fed up of the disruption from the corner of the classroom. You both got up, more than annoyed leaving the classroom door with a slam.

“You’re so dead for this.” Chanhee glared at you in annoyance his palm resting against his forehead as he tried to destress.

“Deserved. If you kept your mouth shut we wouldn’t be here, would we?” You smiled as he sighed, it was quite funny watching him being kicked out of class for the first time — a place you’d been so many times before, but for him it was more than ego crushing.

“What brings you both out in to the corridors?” The sound of heels clicking down the corridor, has both your heads turning towards the principal with a sigh. “Kicked out of class.”

“Not intentionally.” You groaned, hating having to encounter the woman considering she had her eyes on you 24/7 for sleeping through classes and not doing any homework contributing to your grade.

“Y/n, you can’t be pulling down the reputation of some of our best students like Mr. Choi here. Seeing as the both of you aren’t in lesson, the music store room actually needs cleaning and it would be amazing if you could help.” She smiled, passive aggressively clasping her hands together like a fly.

You’ve got to be kidding me, was the only coherent thought to pass your brain, it was only the first day back and you’d already gotten yourself into so much in just a few hours. She brought you to the storage room, where there was clutter everywhere, cardboard boxes, trash, old instruments just scattered over the unseeable floor.

“It might take a few days, so I’ll make sure you both commit to this for at least an hour each day until it’s clean. No free periods after lunch, got it?” She cocked an eyebrow at the two of you, pulling the dusty chain for the dim light bulb that barely lit the room.

“Yes Ms.” You both replied unenthusiastically, beginning to move boxes to make some walking room amongst all the chaos in the room.

“I could really use a coffee right now.” You groaned as the door slammed shut behind her with a deafening screech, the both of you covering your mouths with your forearms due to all the dust.

“You’ve just slept like a sloth for an hour and you need coffee? Pfft.” Chanhee scoffed, adding on a cough at the end blowing the dust out of his face with a look of disgust painted all over his face. “I can’t believe you got me into this.”

“You got yourself into this because you can’t keep yourself quiet, you’re just always dying to say something negative to me.” You put down the box you were carrying into a pile in the corner, the fragile cardboard wearing thin.

“Only because you for, some reason, think it’s okay to be mean to me too!” He snapped back once again referencing the time you’d made fun of his outfit one day, pulling his red sweater over his palms as he lifted another box.

“I was actually gonna say earlier, don’t you think I hear the same thing everyday from your gang of guys? Do you think that one time I made fun of you outweighs the last 5 years of you making them at me?” You turned around, tears welling in your eyes as you spat your words of frustration out in to the air. A moment of silence lingering, the tension in the air so cuttable and cold it felt like shards of ice hitting your skin, the nerves and adrenaline painting a pink color your in your cheeks.

“Just because they made fun of you, or even just Sunwoo, does not mean for even one minute I thought that about you too.” He softened his voice having seen you get so vulnerable on the topic. “Plus you give Hyunjae a pass, why did you go for me? Why did you make fun of me? I still get slander for the way I dress and act to from them-”

“I could ask you why they get a pass? If they’re so mean to you and you don’t think they should be mean to me, then why are you even friends with them?” You laughed in frustration at the boy justifying years of torment to not only you but himself, it simply made no sense.

“Because I don’t know anything else? Is that what you wanted to hear?” He threw up his arms in frustration watching as your lips sealed in silence. “Or the real answer, because I’m too scared to say I got hurt by it? I don’t want to seem fragile or like I can’t take a joke. I’ve known them since when we were kids, they’re still my friends, my day 1’s. That’s the truth.”

Seemingly emotional, he turned around to the wall slightly frustrated he’d let his guard down, however also perhaps in a state of processing the reality of his own actions and feelings. As if he’d had some sort of emotional awakening, as if the cogs finally started turning on why he was so hurt by what you’d said to him. He was hurt by you, because he’d already had his confidence worn down by the same people affecting you.

The both of you began unboxing the items in the storage room in complete silence, not uttering a single word other than a few coughs or mumbles about how much dust was in the room. You began opening a rather dusty box, a large rectangular one attached to a smaller chunkier box. You opened it and let out a quiet “cool” as you found a brand new electric guitar attached to an unopened amp.

“Do we have a power outlet in here?” You turned to Chanhee with an excited smile, he didn’t look up at you but just pointed to a old looking socket on the wall. You plugged in the amp, attaching the connecting wire to the guitar and played a slightly off key chord due to the guitar being untuned.

“Oh my goodness, that’s so loud stop.” Chanhee laughed slightly, a giggle from pure joy, not a sarcastic or mean one, a genuine chuckle. “We don’t have time for this.”

All of a sudden he returned to seriousness, the laughter pausing as quietly you put down the guitar neatly in the corner of the room and unplugged the amp. Clearly it was impossible to clear the air or bitterness with this guy, you may as well give up trying to reconcile at this point.

“I see how it is.” You sighed, lazily continuing the move the plethora of boxes around the room to try at least uncover the floor of the storage room by the end of hour.

Around 10 or so minutes later the bell rang, signalling the end of the day and soon the hallway outside was filled with muffled laughter trapping you both in the musty room until the storm passed. He didn’t say anything to you, asides from slinging his bag over his shoulder and leaving, it felt as if the conversation earlier seemingly had no effect on his feelings of hatred towards you.

Since it was the end of the day, you went to retrieve your headphones from your locker opening it up to a note that read:

“Ur Such An Emo!”

“Real original, ur so funny!” You uttered, crumpling the paper in your fist and letting out a deep sigh before putting your headphones around your neck.

“Didn’t like my note?” Sunwoo asked leaning against his locker with a cocked brow and his arms folded across his black wash denim jacket.

“Not really. I almost forgot how unfunny you were for a second though.” You sighed closing your locker door, only to have your arm gently grabbed back.

“I’m only joking, you do know that, don’t you?” He asked, his condescending smirk saying much otherwise. Despite it being ‘not that deep’ to him of course it was frustrating being the butt of the joke everyday for you.

“Sunwoo shutup for one minute, will you?” Chanhee approached him, pulling his gentle hand from your arm and turning back away from you coldly.

Almost shocked for words, you stood there for a moment before quickly rushing away from the scene down the hallway. Chanhee? Chanhee Choi? Defending you? Perhaps the conversation did have some impact on the way he thought of Sunwoo and his minion clan.

“So about that party, Friday night.” The cheery voice of Hyunjae beside you forced you to take off your headphones on your way out of the gates. “Are you coming?”

“Maybe.” You sighed, clutching your bag on your shoulder with a delayed and airy chuckle.

“That always means no, doesn’t it?” He laughed in response, trying to make eye contact as you only kept your eyes on the pavement ahead.

“Pretty much.” You shrugged, briefly nodding a goodbye to the boy before parting your ways to walk home. The trees hung over the sunny sky in September, leaves drooping, getting ready to decay orange and make the departure from their branches. Birds flying over the neighborhood in crowds, humming the scene a soundtrack as you stepped through your front door home. Crashing into your bed, you huffed wondering why Chanhee had defended you yet still acted as if he hated your guts.

｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ —

Friday soon stumbled upon you, the rest of the week hadn’t been particularly interesting, however Chanhee hadn’t spoken to you since Monday. Everyday the hour at the end of the day that you’d both designated to cleaning the music store room, he remained silent not speaking a word to you everyday, ignoring your questions, jokes and thoughts - only speaking when necessary with the odd “excuse me.” or sometimes even a brief “pass that over.”

Today wasn’t any exception, he strolled in on the last hour without any polite “hello”s or quite frankly any acknowledgment of your presence in the room at all. You’d had enough of trying to entertain yourself with your own thoughts and turned around to the boy with a quick snap. He’d chosen to wear a more toned down outfit than usual that day, straight fitted black jeans with a loose tucked in black t-shirt. In his ears he’d opted for small silver hoops which complimented the thin silver chain around his neck.

“I can’t take it anymore, why’ve you been ignoring me all week?” You huffed out, watching as the boy did nothing but shrug in the most annoying and frustrating fashion. “You don’t know, really? It’s killing me, did I do something to upset you? It can’t be nothing.”

“I’m not sure why I’m ignoring you, I’m actually not.” He sighed, carrying himself within a register that translated words of genuine truth. He finished packing one of the last boxes, placing his palms on the top and beginning to stare into nothing but space.

“Then can you stop?” You laughed walking through to the thin aisle of shelves where you’d been placing organised boxes for the past week. You gently put your last box down, turning and accidentally bumping into Chanhee as you hadn’t noticed he’d moved from his original spot to move his own box.

You caught eye contact with him, forgetting to apologise for bumping into him instead you were lost for words. As you looked into his hazel brown eyes, you couldn’t seem to catch a single coherent thought other than how unreal he looked in the warm lighting above him.

“Can you not? I just nearly dropped my shit.” He rolled his eyes and huffed a huge sigh of frustration forcefully breaking his eye contact with you.

“Jeez I’m sorry, didn’t see you there.” You groaned, returning the eye roll, annoyed he’d began picking arguments with his unpredictable attitude once again.

“If you’re going to apologise try not being rude about it.” He clapped back, you immediately whipped your head back around, slowly walking back up to him and shaking your head in disbelief.

“Shouldn’t you be the one apologising? Didn’t you start the argume-” You began, before you were unexpectedly cut off by him passionately smashing his lips against yours, his hands cupping either side of your face. You couldn’t help but immediately reciprocate the kiss, the shock fading away almost instantly. You pulled away looking at him with a bewildered expression painted across your face, not expecting him to even have that kind of action programmed into his perfect little system.

“Uh, Why? I thought I was ‘such an emo’.” You asked, not being able to contain your laughter as he mirrored your chuckles, a smile plastered on his face as he locked eyes with the ground.

“Well first of all, never tell anyone what I’m about to say or you’re actually dead.” He looked up at you with a pair of sparkly eyes, “I like you? Even though you’re such an emo. I guess.. I have for a while, I always thought your style was really cool and I’m sorry I made fun of you.. I don’t really know why I did it.”

“You’re so awkward quit being so nervous about it.” You laughed as he chewed on his lip trying to hide the nervous grin creeping up. “I guess there’s always second chances, apology accepted.” You teased him, placing a boop on his nose with your finger.

“Thanks.” He spoke softly, his cheeks turning bright pink as you placed a kiss on one side of his face to reassure him. “Uhm, So you coming to that party tonight?”

“Sure I will.” You smiled, grabbing your bag as the last bell of the day sounded. “I guess I like you too, by the way.” You added before quickly escaping through the music storage door, leaving him behind alone, his brain running marathons and his heart beating out of his chest. His phone screen lit up and sending an aggressive bell sound to be muffled thorough the denim of his jean pocket:

y/n: oh and u looked like such an emo today xo

Chanhee laughed, his fingers shaking nervously over his cracked phone screen as he thought of a reply. When he got home he’d continue to text you until the very sunset, when his eyes simply couldn’t stay open any longer. For him, he finally felt accepted for who he was and what he liked — similarly so did you.

[sanaxo-o]

Without you (Choi Chanhee)

Warnings: idol!chanhee x reader, established relationship, reader is insecure about herself, comforting, fluff, Chanhee is very caring and understanding >.< , not at all proofread 😭😞

Word count:885

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

Laying in your bed you stared up at the ceiling mindlessly, no thoughts in your mind as you did not even try to move your now tired body.

Grabbing your phone from your bedside table you stared at the wallpaper on the Home Screen missing your boyfriend, it was a given when you decided to be in a relationship with a idol.

He had a busy schedule day to day and with the promotions ongoing on he seemed to be rather more drained than before. You did not want to feel like a burden to him, you knew you were not but you could not help but get that uneasy feeling in you from time to time.

As if you were a huge burden and a responsibility to him, you always thought you were annoying and despite the attitude you would give him when you were in a bad mood he would do nothing but be the sweetest person you could ever have. Never did he ever get mad at you for being rude or annoying rather, he would just say that you’re adorable.

Looking at the door in question your ears perked up in curiosity when you heard the front door opening. Guessing it was your boyfriend, Chanhee you got up from your lying position and stood up only to sit back down when you felt everything around you move around.

Trying to stabilise yourself you looked up slowly when you felt the door opening to your shared bedroom and to be met with Chanhee’s happy face which was now filled with concern and worry.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?” Chanhee asked the moment he saw you sitting on the bed with discomfort.

“No, I am fine was just feeling a bit tired I guess,” you say with a smile on your face as you stared up at him

“Did you not have your lunch again?” Chanhee asked as if it was a normal question, as if he used that in a everyday conversation. Which he does when it come to you.

“I did eat..” you say softly as you look away from him in middle of the sentence.

“Like what? A bar of chocolate?” He asked in slight annoyance but more worry in his voice. Walking towards you Chanhee sat himself down on the bed beside you as he held your hands in his bigger ones.

“No…,” you whisper softly before you looked at Chanhee briefly “I had an apple…” you say with a nervous grin on your face.

“What?” Chanhee says with a frown upon his face “That’s…that’s it?” He asks rather softly, he did not sound mad like you thought he would be.

“I was not hungry, that’s all” you answer him with your eyes trailed towards the door with a blank stare

“Come with me..” Chanhee said softly before he gripped your hand and made you stand up

Entering the kitchen he made you sit on the kitchen counter before he stood in between your legs and gripped your waist softly while staring into your brown irises with his own gentle ones.

“What do you feel like eating?” He asks softly with a gentle smile on his face. His cheekbones rising up.

“I don’t know..” you say with a small pout on your lips

“Hmm well then let’s see..” he said before he walked towards the cabinets and opened a few of them. “We have noodles..and,” he went towards the fridge before he got out a packet of dumplings “and some spicy chicken dumplings! How do you think about this sweetheart?” Chanhee asks as he looks at you with a hopeful glint in his eyes

“Sounds good. Do you want me to cook? You must be tired..” you ask him softly as he moved forward to get off the counter only to be stopped by Chanhee.

“I will make it. Relax, I want to do this for my beloved..” he said before giving your forehead a kiss. Walking away he started boiling the noodles as he began cooking the dumplings in the steamer.

“Now that the noodles and dumplings are cooking lemme just..” Chanhee trailed off as he walked towards you before slapping the back of your head with his hand softly “Who says it’s a good idea to skip your meals huh?” He says in annoyance and concern “I told you numerous times, never skip your meals no matter how busy you’re or whatever the reason it is. I need you to be healthy sweetheart..” he trails off before softly grabbing your chin in both of his hands “Do you know how worried I got when I saw you sitting in the bedroom like that?” He tells you before a tear falls down from his eyes on your lap.

“I am sorry. I was just…am I a burden?” You ask him quietly

“You? No never. Why would you think like that? Y/N I love taking care of you. If something happens to you I don’t know what I would do..” Chanhee says before gently pulling you in a soft and passionate kiss. Pulling away he chuckled softly “Let’s go the noodles are staring to boil.” He says with a smile as he carassed your head and moved away from you to make the noodles.

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

Tagging: @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @kimsohn @mosviqu @o-onikix @zhouyingyue (special tag for @astrae4 because you be the only Chanhee Stan ik-)

[stupidkyupid]

𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 : 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 ！

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : the start of a fresh semester at barden university marks the continuation of a century-old fued or, in other words – the showdown between the treblemakers and the bellas.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : treblemaker!theboyz x fem!oc

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : smau, pitch perfect au, romance, humour, drama, fluff, angst, college au

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 : ongoing

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 + 𝐚 / 𝐧 : instead of using y/n i decided to give each oc a name and face claim to make it easier to navigate between each story! the foundation of most of the pairings where they’re both involved in accapella has an enemies to lovers and forbidden love aspect to it due to the rule bellas have to not engage in any sort of romance with the treblemakers, however the amount of this that is prevelant will depend on the characters and how much they actually care about the ‘rules’! also, whilst i’ll give more detailed disclaimers at the beginning of each mini series, i’m just going to establish that there will be sex references throughout this, in true pitch perfect fashion. the whole accapella thing is more of a subplot, it’s a big part of the characters and their personalities but this will also heavily focus on college life as well as romance. i’m aiming for each member to have a 20 part story! i’ll also be aging the members down to college ages!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐍 － 𝖨’𝖫𝖫 𝖬𝖠𝖪𝖤 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖢𝖱𝖸 ！

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : treblemaker!leader!sangyeon x bella!leader!oc

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 : grumpy x sunshine

the treblemakers and bellas have earned the reputation as the montagues and capulets of the a cappella world for as long as anyone can recall. it's safe to assume that the leaders of each group would be in constant conflict, or at least that's what gyulmi believes is the most reasonable course of action. however, sangyeon couldn't care less about conforming to these social norms and opts for a diplomatic approach towards his arch-nemesis. but can he maintain his composure when gyulmi responds to his kindness with nothing but anger?

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐁 𝐁𝐀𝐄 － 𝖫𝖠𝖣𝖨𝖤𝖲 𝖭𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖳 ！

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : tutor!treblemaker!jacob x player!bella!oc

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 : opposites attract

all dalny has ever known is romance; however, it has never taken the form of a conventional, long-term, exclusive relationship where the phrase 'i love you' is frequently uttered. in fact, quite the opposite is true. her life revolves around romance, yet she has never experienced love. one might describe dalny as a player, a title she proudly wears, until she started interacting with jacob bae during their tutoring sessions. somewhere along the way, she began to yearn for something more profound than just non-committal kisses from her supposed enemy.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 － ’𝖳𝖨𝖫 𝖶𝖤 𝖬𝖤𝖤𝖳 𝖠𝖦𝖠𝖨𝖭 ！

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : treblemaker!younghoon x student!oc

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 : forbidden love

dasom and younghoon have always been familiar with each other. it isn't surprising, considering dasom had dated his older brother on and off for several long months just a year ago. needless to say, the relationship didn't end well, leading dasom to flee to barden university instead of continuing with the toxic cycle. so, during her fresh new start, the last thing she expected was to encounter younghoon, the younger brother of her haunting ex. however, what surprised her even more was finding comfort within his presence, rather than harboring resentment towards the figure from her past and how she can’t help but attend his performances, unable to stay away, yet troubled by the forbidden nature of their connection.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐀𝐄 － 𝖯𝖴𝖲𝖧𝖨𝖭’ 𝖭 𝖯𝖴𝖫𝖫𝖨𝖭’ ！

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : treblemaker!hyunjae x newbella!oc

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 : friends with benefits to lovers

nari and hyunjae have been entangled in their so-called mutually beneficial arrangement for nearly a year now. it's a classic case, really, a 'friends with benefits' situation where the only rule is to avoid catching feelings. nari sees herself as skilled in detaching herself from her emotions, but that facade becomes harder to maintain when her best friend coerces her into joining what she dubs 'the dumb world of a cappella' as a last-minute recruit for the bellas. suddenly, her carefree nights with hyunjae evolve into passionate escapades, and the forbidden nature of their relationship sparks new emotions. what did she expect? she's sleeping with the enemy, and history shows it never ends well.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐍 － 𝖫𝖮𝖵𝖤 𝖥𝖮𝖮𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖧 ！

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : treblemaker!juyeon x bella!oc

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 : exes to lovers

high school sweethearts – it's nice while it lasts, but that's often the case with most things. you cherish something or someone while you have them, but the moment they slip from your grasp, love can quickly turn to hatred. seulki and juyeon could certainly tell you all about this, provided you can endure hours of angry rants and lovesick glances. in short, seulki hates lee juyeon, and juyeon hates sim seulki. they both vowed never to speak again, but that's practically inviting the impossible when their beloved acappella groups seem to constantly be all up in each others faces, something the two of them seem to excel. it didn't take much for another cliche to emerge, where the lines between love and hate start to blur.

𝐊𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 － 𝖧𝖤𝖫𝖫 𝖨𝖭 𝖧𝖤𝖠𝖵𝖤𝖭 ！

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : treblemaker!kevin x producer!oc

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 : brothers best friend

june has always had a keen interest in the world of music, not as the center stage performer, but behind the scenes, making the music that's loved by many. so, when she's offered a position at the campus radio station, she's thrilled to accept. however, there's a catch: Kevin, her older brother Jacob's best friend, also works there. Jacob had specifically cautioned her not to get involved with Kevin due to his familiarity with the clichés. but how can she adhere to her brother's advice when Kevin's presence becomes a constant part of her daily life, making it difficult not to form an attachment to someone she spends hours with every day? now, the second challenge arises: how should she break the news to Jacob about her relationship with his best friend?

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐄 － 𝖫𝖮𝖵𝖤 𝖥𝖮𝖮𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖧 ！

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : treblemaker!chanhee x bella!oc

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 : rivals to lovers

chanhee and seolya have been in constant rivalry for as long as anyone can remember, or in other words, back to the very beginning of their first semester when they both achieved identical scores, earning them the joint first-place position in their class – a title neither of them was willing to accept. from that moment on, they became sworn competitors, turning every aspect of their lives into a contest. if seolya enrolled in an extra class, chanhee would eagerly sign up as well, ensuring he arrived five minutes earlier each day. if chanhee joined an a cappella group, seolya would join an acapella group. the concept towards their supposed hatred is simple really, pure competitiveness, a need to always be first. little do they realize that, in their quest for victory, they'll end up placing each other above all else.

𝐉𝐈 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 － 𝖲𝖳𝖴𝖯𝖨𝖣 𝖢𝖴𝖯𝖨𝖣 ！

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : treblemaker!changmin x matchmaker!oc

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 : best friends to lovers

oreum and changmin have always been inseparable, a bond as old as their earliest memories. it's as if they're joined at the hip; she faithfully attends all his shows, tirelessly crafting new signs, each attempting to be better than the last to show her support, and he's a constant presence, patiently listening to her excited rants about the latest couple she's helped bring together. you see, oreum has a unique talent for matchmaking, but little did she know, her efforts to find a special someone for changmin would unearth her own hidden emotions. as she embarks on the journey to find love for her best friend, her well-intentioned plan takes an unexpected and bittersweet turn when she realizes her own heart is at stake.

𝐉𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐍𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐍 － 𝖳𝖠𝖫𝖪 𝖳𝖮 𝖬𝖤 ！

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : treblemaker!haknyeon x bella!oc

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 : secret admirer

chowha is a rule follower, she'll do anything to abide to what's expected from her and perform in a way that doesn't leave room for criticism. it's needless to say that she took the vow "i promise to never engage in any romantic relationship with a troublemaker, or else my vocal cords will be torn out by wolves" quite seriously. thanks to her unwavering self-discipline, she didn't respond well to romantic advances made by haknyeon, a treblemaker, especially when they were made publicly. however, chohwa soon found herself delighted by the daily letters received from her secret admirer, eagerly awaiting the moment they would reveal their identity. now, what's a goody two shoes like chohwa supposed to do when she realizes she's been breaking the rules for months and has enjoyed every moment of it?

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 － 𝖬𝖸 𝖲𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖥𝖠𝖢𝖳𝖨𝖮𝖭 ！

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : treblemaker!sunwoo x student!oc

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 : fake dating

it's quite unfortunate, but following nayoung's breakup with a member of the high notes, she ended up being branded as the "campus' designated acapella groupie," as if that even exists. true to her nature, she decided to counter the groundless rumors created by her spiteful ex, with the assistance of her good friend sunwoo. nayoung was quick to convince to convince him into playing the role of her new boyfriend, although it didn’t take him long to get on board with the idea, much to her disappointment, as she had a whole speech prepared for the occasion. now, all that remains is to witness that smug smile on her ex's face fade away as he witnesses her embracing her newfound title, which seems straightforward enough, were it not for unexpected emotions entering the equation

𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐎𝐇𝐍 － 𝖫𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖳 𝖬𝖤 𝖴𝖯 ！

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : treblemaker!eric x bella!oc

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 : he fell first, she fell harder

the bellas and the treblemakers don't mix. sure, feifei has witnessed her fair share of fellow bellas sneak around with treblemakers to the extent that it's now more of a norm than a forbidden union between the two groups. however, feifei remains indifferent. she joined the bellas to sing, not to be part of a cliché romeo and juliet-like love story. so, when eric initiates his pursuit of her, she'll go to great lengths just to make him shut up. eric's advances are relentless, almost bordering on being stalker-like, yet there's a certain sweetness to them, even if she'd never admit it. feifei is stubborn, but can she truly ignore eric's constant declarations of love, even though their interactions are scarce? what can she say? curiosity killed the cat.

comments and reposts are appreciated + my asks are always open!! i’m soso excited to start this omg

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! (𝗈𝗋 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇!) | 𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 !

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑 (𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋）：𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗃𝖺𝖾 | 𝗃𝗎𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗇 | 𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗇 | 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗈𝖻 | 𝗍𝖻𝖺！

[astrae4]

I DEMAND CHANHEE WITH A GIRLY GF‼‼

OMG NO BC THIS LIVES IN MY HEAD RENT FREE. MASC CHANHEE DRIVES ME CRAZY 😵😵😵

CHOI CHANHEE WITH A GIRLY GIRLFRIEND

navigation | tbz!masterlist

First time he met you, the only thing he could think about was how pretty and cute you are. You were both in a cafe, and he was inevitably drawn to you. Was it because of the bows in your hair, the dainty pearls on your neck, or the light and elegant dress you have on? Chanhee has no idea, but oh, how he knows that he’s enticed by your aura.

( He asked for your number then, and you accepted, luckily! ) Weeks come to months and you guys are officially dating! (hurrah!)

Chanhee definitely takes the lead in this relationship! From planning dates, to picking you up, pulling your chair for you, and paying ( you tried to pay a few times, but the man just won’t let you! 😓 it’s okay though, you do your end by batting your eyelashes lovingly at him and holding his arm affectionately after he paid for your things hehe~ 😆 ) your dates’ bills. He even confessed first to you! ( as a man SHOULD. It is their job your honor, I am a firm believer! ) The confession was PERFECT too, by the way. Pink roses, chocolates, and a miffy plush!

Oh, how perfect this man is! He might not look it, but he’s sure as hell strong! ( did you guys see when chanhee carried his members AND his chanel bag at the same time?!?! My nose bled omg ) He carries all your bags for you and even helped you carry your new table in the living space and set it up for you! You fear that you now have a bad habit of not tying your own shoes anymore because the! Man! Does! It! For! You!

Also??? CAN I JUST ADD A SCENARIO?! CHANHEE’S HANDS. They’re so attractive and for what. The way he KNOWS you love it too and always teases you for it! The way he also loves teasing you because you get flustered way too easily for your own good. Just the other weekend, you were unable to reach the menstruation pads because it was placed too high for you and you called him to help you! He asked what it is you need, and you pointed at the pads because it was too embarrassing to say out loud. What happened next was so EVIL of Chanhee to do to you!

“Hm?” What is it you need?” Teased Chanhee, pushing a strand of hair behind your ears. His index finger lingering in the back of your ear while his thumb grazes your jawline softly. You’re way too flustered to say anything, especially with the way he looks at you—or should I say; the way he looks at your lips.

You look away, muttering “Stop it”, way too embarrassed for your own good. His slender fingers move to each side of your face and your chin, bringing you to look back again him against your will.

“But you have to say it for me to understand, baby…In words.” (HE’S A MENACE AHHHHHHHHHH)

“C-Can you please take the menstrual pads down for me..” you barely got it out. But, Chanhee’s satisfied enough with that reply. “See? Isn’t that easy to ask?” He then follows the sentence by giving you a soft peck on your lips before taking it for you, only to leave nonchalantly. (LIKE? HOW DARE HE???)

Anyways ! 😭 back to the main topic… (sorry i get sidetracked a lot) He also lets you play with his hair and makeup because girly activities are SUPERIOR!! I stand by what I say. Monthly fashion shows featuring your and his closet is a must! You know what else is a must? Him giving you his sweaters of course! They’re big on you and warm, so you often use them to sleep ( sorry chanhee, but they aren’t yours anymore! )

Your honor, he knows the sidewalk rule! He also loves holding your waist when walking, that way he wouldn’t lose you! You love the way you don’t need to use your brain when walking with him cause he’s always guiding you. He’s the big spoon in cuddles for sure (you don’t mind, you love being the little spoon and nuzzling your face on his neck) Loves dressing you up too for the day by the way, it’s his favorite morning activity atp.

You know the okokok lalala trend?? He’s totally the okokok to your lalala. He’s attentive and listens well while you babble about your day. He thinks you’re so cute when you do so! You often speak quietly, so he has a habit of putting his head nearer to you when you speak!

BONUS: MEMBERS’ REACTION

Look. Out of everyone in tbz, this boy literally has the most bbg energy out there, so all his members would definitely have expected that his future girlfriend would have been the pants of the relationship! But then,, you come and visit their dorm for the first time, and? Let’s just say they were shocked!

You walk in: pink silk ribbons in your hair, face dolled up, and your cute long dress swaying as you closed the door with a gift basket FOR them.

You know what shocks them even more? How affectionate Chanhee was with you, and how soft he was around you. Like um??? Gf privileges much!!! 😠 They can’t even get him to accept their aegyo and here he is; untying your shoes, carrying your bag, and smiling with eyes that look at you like you carry the stars??

Out of all the members, Eric would be the first to speak up to you, sending you a big wave. You replied with a small wave and a shy “hello.!” Soon enough, all the members surround you and you get slightly overwhelmed. Chanhee notices this and tells them to go away, pulling you into his bedroom.

“See,” he’d say, “you have nothing to worry about. They love you!” You could only smile, flustered. Chanhee thinks you’re adorable, and gives you the sweetest kiss on your cheek.

Sure enough, they did love you. In fact! They kept pestering Chanhee to bring you over nonstop! He says no to them like 😠🤨😒, though….😓😓 pookie’s a very jealous man…

© astrae4 2023 | please don’t copy, translate, or plagiarize my works on all platforms!

[ericsprincess]

take your time and turn off the lights

nc-17, Choi Chanhee/Reader, drunk sex, sexual exploration, fingering

~~~

Your best friend wants some education. 

~~~

“Can you please get a move on finally? I’m gonna pee myself,” whines Chanhee, leaning on the wall outside of your apartment, while you’re bent over in front of the door. You’re squeezing the key between your fingers, if only the keyhole stopped dodging. Chanhee is being of no help, well, except the fact that he’s holding your bag and heels in one hand, his bedazzled Hello Kitty vape in the other and has a dumb remark on everything. 

You’re both drunk, coming home from your monthly besties night out. It is a years long tradition for you and your best friend - on the first Friday of every month, you both doll up at your place, while sharing a bottle of wine, trying out outfits and putting on makeup. Then you hit up a club, both with no money on you - the objective is to just dance, have fun and let men pay for your drinks. But neither one of you intends to pick up a man to go home with - you can do that any other time, but this is an evening just for the two of you. So you stick together and leave the club together when you’re tired, crashing at either of your places for a sleepover. 

Today, you picked a club that’s closer to your place, that’s why you’re currently fighting with the lock on your apartment door. You had a really good night, you danced your shoes off, both with Chanhee and various hot men that caught your attention. Chanhee did the same, and judging by how drunk you both are, you both got plenty of attention (and free drinks) tonight. Maybe even a bit too much - at some point, Chanhee suddenly stopped dancing and dragged you off the dance floor to one of the sofas scattered around it and pulled you to chill down on it. As you were catching your breath from the dancing, you looked up at Chanhee with a question in your eyes. 

“There was a guy, I didn’t like how he was looking at you,” he explained. Ohhh. Makes sense. You haven’t noticed anyone, so you were glad Chanhee was looking out for you. 

“Wanna make out to make him jealous?” asked Chanhee and you nodded, giggling, since you are always up for mischief like that. Chanhee smiled at you, you closed your eyes and seconds later you were tasting sweet cocktails on his tongue. You spent a lot of time just making out, enjoying the alcohol buzz, loud music and the warmth of another body. 

Now you’ve finally managed to open the door to your apartment, almost falling over when the lock unexpectedly clicked. You throw your jacket on the hanger, while Chanhee yells “Dibs on the bathroom!” and immediately runs there. You snort and go to the kitchen to make both of you a cup of tea to sober up a bit. 

You bring the cups to your room, while you hear the shower running. Chanhee has been to your place a million times, so he’s here like at home and doesnt need to be treated as a guest. You start taking off your clothes, preparing for your own shower, while sipping on the tea. You take off your makeup and just at the time you hear the shower being turned off. 

“I left you some hot water, because I’m that nice,” Chanhee walks out of your bathroom in your fluffiest bathrobe (that’s actually yours, not for guests), drying his hair with a towel. “Also I used your shampoo and it’s really good, so if you are missing the bottle tomorrow, don’t ask me about it.”

He looks up at you and stops in his tracks. “Oh, you’re already undressed.” He looks you up and down. “Nice lingerie. Did you plan to pull? You should have told me,” he asks, but his tone is strange.

“No, I just felt like dressing up,” you reply and hand him his cup. “Here is your tea.”  

“Thank you. Do you want to watch something or are we just going to sleep?” he asks.

You take a second to consider the options. You are ok with watching something, but you’re so tired from dancing and alcohol, you will probably drop 5 minutes into the movie. It’s been a long evening. 

“Up to you. But I am probably falling asleep very soon,” you laugh. 

You leave him in your room and go take a shower. The hot water falling over you is soothing and it makes you want to sleep even more. You quickly wash and dry yourself so you can run to bed. 

When you enter your room, Chanhee is already laying in your bed under the covers, scrolling on his phone. You drop your towel, looking for some panties and pyjamas. You’re never shy around your best friend and it’s not the first time you’re naked around him, so you don’t pay it any attention. He’s focused on his phone anyways. 

Finally, you find some clothes and get into the bed, poking Chanhee to budge so you can fit next to him, warm and cozy under the covers. You lie down and you feel so comfortable - alcohol buzz pleasantly ebbing off, you’re freshly showered and finally in your bed, even next to another warm body, which always makes you sleep better. 

Chanhee puts down his phone on the nightstand, turns to your side, huddles close and hugs you from behind. A bit unusual since he’s not big on cuddling, but you’re not complaining - you would not refuse any additional comfort now. 

“Hmmm..you still drunk?” you mumble into his arm. 

“Not as much..you?” he asks. 

“Less, too… But I’m really sleepy,” you reply, accompanied by a yawn. You fidget a bit to burrow deeper into his arms.

“We had a nice evening, didn’t we?” Chanhee asks, silently. His free hand, the one you’re not lying on with your head, is laid on your waist, petting you gently. He moves it to lightly rub over your belly. 

“Hmm..yeah,” you’re not even thinking much over the reply. You really did, as always. It’s not even a question. 

“You looked really pretty today,” he continues. “Actually, you always look really pretty. It made me realize a lot of things, lately..”

“Like what?” you mumble, already half-asleep. 

Chanhee hesitates. He slowly moves his hand up under your pyjamas, over your naked breasts.

That wakes you up. 

“Chanhee?” you ask, confused. You can feel his quickening breath. 

“Can I?” he asks, without any explanation. And maybe that’s okay - maybe you don’t need one. Maybe the explanation would not change your answer anyways. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, almost shivering in anticipation. You’re not quite sure what you’re agreeing to, but it’s your best friend and you know you can trust him with anything. If he wants to explore your body, he’s welcome to do so. 

Chanhee slowly rubs his hand over your tits, feeling up your hardening nipples with his fingers. He squeezes one of your breasts, then the other and goes back to playing with your nipples, until they are fully hard. He pinches one and it makes you wiggle, since you’re too sensitive, and you put a hand over his to let him know. He understands immediately and lets it go, circling his finger around it in apology. 

Letting your breasts go, Chanhee moves his hand higher, running the tips of his fingers along your collarbones. He leans his head a bit forwards and kisses your neck. You sigh in content. 

You’re starting to get aroused from the touching, feelings emphasized by the alcohol. Everything feels hot, Chanhee’s body behind you, his hand on your body, even his breath on your neck and you don’t have enough self-control to fight it. 

And it seems you’re not alone in this. You shift a little and that makes you bump into his hard cock with your ass so you push against it a bit and he gets the hint and moves closer. He’s not humping you, but you still like feeling his hard cock press against you insistently.

And you also really like to know that he likes it, that just touching your body makes him this hard.

Chanhee, however, ignores his erection and focuses on kissing and sucking hickeys onto your neck, while moving his hand under your pyjamas, touching, groping where he can reach and you’re getting so wet from it, you’re slowly losing your mind. You’re breathing heavily and you’re holding onto his other hand that’s embracing you. 

It’s almost torture, but you’re not going to ask him for anything. You want him to go at his own pace and if that means he might not want to do more than what he is doing right now, then you’re okay with that. Even though your panties are completely soaked. 

Thankfully, you’re in luck tonight. Chanhee’s hand moves downwards, brushing past your belly. His fingers stop at the waistband of your pyjama pants. 

“Can I?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you breathe out impatiently. “Please, touch me..”

“But,” he hesitates. “Y/N… I-I’ve never… I don’t know if it will be any good...”

“It doesn’t matter,” you put your hand over his and push it under your pants and panties. “I’ll help you, if you need it.” you reassure him. 

Just the warmth and touch of his hand over your pussy is heavenly. He slowly feels around, pushing two fingers between the lips and finding out how wet you are. Maybe you are imagining it, but you would swear his breath hitches. 

He slowly rubs up and down, spreading your slick all over your pussy, making his fingers glide over your skin easily. He quickly finds your clit and gently rubs it, and it feels so good you whine at him to not stop. You’re even moving your hips a little to make it easier for him. 

He’s being gentle but firm, rubbing your clit in steady tempo, nothing quick and brutish like other men use to. Your orgasm is slowly building up and you know if he continues, you could come like this. 

Inexperienced? Maybe, but definitely attentive. 

But before you can actually get too close to coming, Chanhee has other plans. He shifts his hand further, touching around your hole, fingers right at the opening. 

“Please,” he breathes out into your neck, where his face is still firmly put, no doubt all red and aroused himself. 

You just hum in agreement, too out of it to speak, and he pushes two fingers in and whines. You realize that now his hips are really moving against yours, rubbing his cock on your ass as he’s trying to get at least some relief. 

He pulls them out and pushes back in and repeats it few more times, trying to fuck you like that, but the angle is not great in this position and he seems to realize that too. He can’t go too deep nor too fast like that. He lets the idea go and pulls them out definitely to get back to rubbing your clit and you’re almost thanking him. 

And now that he’s getting the hang of things, you can tell he’s not playing anymore. He’s rubbing your clit with perfect pressure and good tempo, clearly with the sole aim to get you off. 

You’re moving with him, barely realizing it, just giving into the feeling. You’re starting to whimper and moan as you’re getting closer and he quickens the tempo, not wavering even though his hand must be starting to hurt at this point. 

When you finally come it hits you like a truck, you’re almost spasming and he has to hold you firmly against himself as he keeps rubbing you. He slows down only when he sees your orgasm is finally ending, not wanting to overstimulate you. 

You blink, suddenly getting hit by reality. You would have never expected tonight ending this way, getting fingered and gotten off by your best friend, you think while catching your breath. 

But it’s not like you’re complaining, not in the least.

You put your hand behind yourself, on his hard cock leaking through the pyjamas, but he stops you. 

“Not now,” he says. 

“Tomorrow, if you still want to. When we’re sober.”

“Okay,” you nod and turn back so he can spoon you again. Now it’s a bit awkward, since neither knows what to say and you can feel his boner pressing against your ass. But at least, your tiredness is finally overcoming you, especially after having an orgasm. You yawn again. 

 “Let’s go to sleep?” 

“Okay…Good night Y/N,” he burrows his nose into your hair and holds you tight.

“Good night, Chanhee,” you close your eyes.

A minute passes in silence. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. 

And then you sleep. 

[cupidjyu]

kiss me awake pt 3

(98 line) when you wake them up with a kiss~

genre: flirty juyeon, a lot of cuddling, sleepy cuddles, slight drunk changmin the night before?? lol notes: changmin biting the other members when he was drunk is the craziest thing I've ever heard of.. hope you enjoyed this series!! soon, there will be a full fic for my beloved #1 fan ~ word count: 1.2k

juyeon

you yawned, staring at the mirror for a minute too long before finally deciding to exit the bathroom. it was early in the morning, really early. you had work that day while juyeon, your lover, had his own day off. you sighed.

you also had an important event that day, so you dressed up quite a bit. when you walked back into the room after touching up your hair, he was still sleeping, curled up all alone on the bed. oh, how you wished to join him and go back to sleep. 

you knew he didn’t like sleeping in so you walked over to him. you leaned down and pressed your lips against his. he stirred in response and he almost immediately knew it was you.

his lips formed a cat-like smile as he blinked his eyes open. 

you laughed, “hi, handsome.”

he was actually cute at that moment, with his messy bed hair and slightly puffy eyes. he turned to you and sat up, rubbing his eyes. his droopy eyes looked you over with a glint in them.

“hey, pretty.”

you shoved him slightly, making him fall back on the bed, “don’t be a flirt.”

“why?” he propped himself on his forearms to look you over again, making you blush. then, he leaned forward and hugged you, burying his face into your stomach. “when you wake me up looking like this, i can’t help it.” 

his eyes were big now, peering at you through his eyelashes.

“okay, okay,” you smiled, leaning down and pressing a kiss on his forehead. “see you later… handsome.”

you turned around to leave for the day. but, you paused at the door when you heard his quiet, deep voice from behind you.

“i’ll be waiting for you, pretty.”

kevin

“has anyone seen kevin?” you peeked into one of the rooms. your friend shrugged.

“he said he wanted some alone time so, he’s probably in that room,” they pointed to the door. you walked in and you noticed that he seemed to have fallen. his eyes were closed and his whole body was relaxed on the bed.

you smiled and walked over. 

“hm?” you noticed, that in his hand, his phone was on. he had searched for something on it. you leaned closer and read the words: cute gifts for your s/o.

your heart practically soared and you immediately pressed a kiss to his lips without giving it a second thought. he startled and panicked, looking around quickly.

“hi kev,” you greeted, hiding your shy smile.

his eyes landed on you and he visibly relaxed, “oh, y/n. i missed you.” then, his head whipped to where his phone was gripped in his hands, still on. he hurriedly shut it off before you could see (though you did).

“so!” he laughed nervously. “d-did you see anything?”

“nope,” you held in a laugh. “nothing at all.”

he smiled and let out a relieved sigh. then, he pulled you in so that you were both lying in bed facing each other. he observed your features, smiling sweetly. you smiled back, your heart thumping.

“for your information…” you started.

“i think that a handmade bracelet would be a cute gift,” and you couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh at his shocked expression. his eyes widened and he gasped.

“so you did see!”

“see what?” you looked at him innocently.

he poked your cheek, glaring playfully, “don’t try to act dumb. but thanks for the idea." he winked before kissing you.

chanhee

you yawned, stretching your body after spending so long cleaning the whole place for the guests coming over. then, you remembered that chanhee was working on editing some pictures on the couch, so you decided to check up on him.

you paused when you saw him. he fell asleep, with his computer on the table as he laid out on the couch, his eyes closed and peacefully.

you leaned over and poked his cheek with your finger. he didn’t stir. so, you decided to press a kiss to his cheek, just to test if it works.

and then he woke up.

he peered at you with droopy eyes, “did i fall asleep?”

you smiled with amusement, “what do you think?”

“agh,” he pouted, getting up from his lying position. “i was literally almost done and i just had to fall asleep…” he grumbled.

you waved him off, sitting next to him. you wrapped your arms around his side, hugging him warmly causing him to relax and melt.

“it’s okay,” you simply replied.

“why?” he whined. he glanced at the date. “i’m pretty sure this was due a while ago…”

“yeah but…” you reached a hand up to caress his cheek, turning him to face you. he slightly flushed at the close proximity. “you looked really cute just now.”

chanhee stared at you with wide eyes, completely silent. then, he pushed you away, his ears red now.

“don’t… be ridiculous. you're the one who kissed me to wake me up. you can't just do that!"

you crossed your arms, “i’m being serious. and why not? i love kissing you.”

he laughed shyly, “in that case,” he thought for a moment. “this can wait another day.” he grabbed onto you to lie next to him as he latched onto you like a koala. “i’m going back to sleep.” and just before he fell asleep, he pressed a light kiss to your nose.

changmin

you took in a shaky breath, your eyes staring straight at the bowl of soup in your hands. you were incredibly focused on not spilling it. finally, you made it to the room where you knew changmin was having an incredibly deep slumber.

you placed the bowl on the nightstand. and then you leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. he groaned as he slowly woke up. when he opened his eyes and caught sight of you, he smiled tiredly and grasped your wrist to pull you into bed with him.

you yelped.

“you kissed me awake,” he observed.

you nodded. you let out a sigh when you felt him attach to your body in a tight, possessive hug.

“changmin,” you called out.

“hmmm?” he hummed lazily.

“how much did you drink last night?”

he paused, silent for a moment before finally croaking out an awkward, “i drank enough.”

you tsked, “you drank enough to run around and bite eric and i.” you swiftly escaped his hold, making him whine cutely.

“come on, let me feed you,” you urged him. and to your surprise, he happily got up, listening to your orders. he was still sleepy but he looked adorable with his messy hair. and before you knew it, he had flopped back down on the bed with a groan. 

“i have a headache.”

“yes, so you have to drink this.”

“but-”

with one hand, you pulled him back up. he stared at you with absolute awe.

“woah, you’re strong,” he looked at you with lovesick eyes, making you giggle.

but you still shrugged, ignoring him as you began to feed the soup to him. he smiled at you fondly after each and every bite.

“you’re so caring,” he suddenly whispered. his eyes began to get teary as he sniffed. “i love you so much…”

you stared at him in disbelief.

“changmin.”

“hmm?”

“are you still drunk?”

[from-m-izzy]

perfect for you | the boyz choi chanhee | new

“Will you trust me even if I break you?”

» ​PAIRING: tbz choi chanhee (new) x fem!reader » TROPE/AU​: established relationship au!, non-idol au! » GENRE​: smut 18+ (mdni!!) 🔞 fluffy sex, chanhee is a really caring and attentive boyfriend » WORD COUNT: 2263 » ESTIMATED READING TIME: ~9 mins » WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!): soft dom!chanhee, sub!reader, pet names (baby girl), marking (reader receiving), fingering, clit stimulation, piv sex, creampie, sex on table, praising (chanhee to reader), slight dirty talking (chanhee to reader), not proofread

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

happy birthday @sanaxo-o!! a bit (a LOT! 😭) rushed but i hope you find a way to enjoy this 😘

"Chanhee!" 

It's a usual occurrence for your boyfriend to sneak up behind you and give you a big, warm hug. His chuckle that can be heard after your exclamation, and the way he wraps both his arms around your shoulder always undoubtedly made you feel like the happiest girl in the whole wide world.

"Come to bed." He whispers next to your left ear with a whine after, "I don't want to sleep without you."

"I will." You directed your attention back to the neatly stacked pile of books. You are so ready to push all these smelly, slightly brown, definitely creased-up pages in preparation for your final economics exam tomorrow, "I just finished." 

Before you can even push the book even further away from your body, another arm pushes it away first. "Good." No more words were said after because he flips you around and steals a kiss from your lips. Chanhee catches you by your right upper arm when you stumble slightly at his actions, smiling fondly at your flustered state. "I got you, don't worry."

You chuckle, breaking the kiss for a bit, "You've always got me since day one."

Another chuckle is heard from his lips before he leans down to you once again, closing the gap between his hungry lips and your still innocent one immediately. It continues passionately and you can tell that he intends to keep it that way for a lot longer. The way his slender hands cup your cheeks delicately unlike how his tongue swipes your bottom lip leaves you gasping incoherent words straight down his throat. You couldn’t hold your eyes open any longer, already too lost in the way that Chanhee was physically pouring out all his love to you.

His left hand slithers behind your lower back, crashing your bodies onto each other and you can no longer control how your knees shake, the same way your lips tremble whenever he pulls away to give you some more oxygen to inhale. You would have hit the floor if it wasn’t for the way his other palm traces along, the tips of his fingers just barely touching the bare skin of the side of your left thigh before putting a bit of force, landing and gripping on the dip of your waist. 

“Here?” You whisper between breaths. Between the session, your hands already had a mind of their own, scrunching up the oversized pink sweater that doesn’t even belong to you up to your waist, your underwear already in full view for the dominating eyes who peer down at you with lust.

He pulls away for longer this time, actually putting a bit of a distance between you both. If your cheeks weren’t red enough before, it’s now definitely flaring under his intense gaze, especially with the wet string that still comfortably hung in the air on your bottom lips. 

It held your everything, the same way that he has your everything.

“If you’re up for it.”

The way you quickly nod to his invitation is what sends Chanhee’s once soft grip on your arm down straight to your clothed core. He watches thoughtfully at the way you crane your neck backwards, cursing into the warm air. Taking this open opportunity, he moves his fingers painfully slow, particularly finding the wet and darker spot on your pink panties. It sends you squirming and over the edge almost too quickly, your back arching off the counter and he keeps his hand still and lets you moan freely when you push against the tips of his fingers.

“Oh God…”

“Raise your head, bubs. I want to kiss you.”

But you physically can’t. Not with the way he whispers it so seductively and not with the way his index and thumb hook around the crotch of the fabric that keeps on getting damper as time passes by. Chanhee didn’t need to know anymore, knowing well that your body couldn’t hold on for any longer, desperate for a release to take place—for him though, he has other things that he wants to do to you before that.

First, the marks around your clean neck need to be fixed. When he did lean forward so did the way his two fingers underneath you pull the fabric down and release it, slapping your sensitive clit as a result. You couldn’t even scold him for it because your neck suddenly felt cold with the way he ran his tongue on your collarbones and the added little touches and nudges from his nose on the crook of your neck is the reason why you started to tear up.

“Stay still for a bit.” 

Knowing very well that you couldn’t though, Chanhee takes it upon himself to place a hand behind your nape, straightening your posture. Oh, how he wished you picked a better outfit for this as well because the neckline of his top is too tight for him to easily expose more skin around your neck. However, when Chanhee wants to place kisses on your neck, he must, he will and he has always succeeded. Just like now as he uses his chin to anchor the fabric down to trap you between two forces: his harsh sucks from his pretty lips and the harsher grip that he has behind your neck.

“C-Chanhee, move your fingers please.”

Finally, the begging begins and you could curse him out for the momentary smirk against your skin before he lunges in once more to the other collarbone, this time using his teeth to mark his love bites on your still clean skin. Down where your aching, lonely pussy was in his hands that still ghost the opening of your body. There is a lot of self-control happening here for both of you, especially for Chanhee because he has never left you this deprived of his touch before for such a long time during sex.

The thoughts make your head spiral and the tears finally roll down your flushed cheeks. When you open your eyes for a second, you see the moment of hesitation and the way his lips parted in surprise.

“No, no.” You quickly rebut. Your hands fly up to wrap around his neck, pushing him back down to your neck, “I’m fine, please keep going.”

“How far are you willing to take this, baby girl?” There goes the pet name that is reserved for you only within private settings. This makes you excited and Chanhee feels this with the way you let out a gush of lubrication on his fingers. He pushed back against the strength of your arms, staring straight at your half-hooded eyes. Stealing another kiss and licking the drool off your lips, you know your moans aren’t enough for him to continue, “Tell me or else I’ll stop right now.”

“Chanhee…” In all the previous sex sessions together, he always treated you gently. The way his hands would knead the sides of your waist against the mattress, kissing down your stomach to the insides of your thighs, all so perfect for him and you. But you can tell through the flash that runs across his eyes that he has wanted to be more rough on you, use more force and what happened just then, you know is the first step towards his hidden desires. You shyly smile at your boyfriend, cupping his cheek and reassuring him. “Do whatever you want to do. I trust you.”

“Will you trust me even if I break you?”

“You can break my body if you want to,” Your side of your index finger traces down his jawline before turning its finger pad on his chin to act as a hook, bringing his face closer to you. You realise now that he is panting…pretty hard, “but that will never break my trust for you.”

That’s all it takes for him to let go of his worries.

Unfortunately for your aching core, he snaps the fabric once more and you gasp sharply at the feeling. You should’ve maybe known that the gasps would increasingly get louder in the next few seconds. Chanhee lifts you by your ass, plopping your body down to the shorter side of your rectangular study desk and he makes himself comfortable between your legs that he had to forcefully separate. 

His fingers continue to rub against your folds, hushing whilst telling you to let go all over him. With your eyes rolled back and your neck falling backwards, Chanhee praises you for the first mess of the night.

The increasing darkness in his eyes should have been enough indication for you because, without another warning, your exposed stomach and bra are now visible to his eyes. Further, he couldn’t wait any longer to see you fully, hooking one of his fingers to the centre gore of your bra, seeing the slight bounce of your breasts as they breathed free in the chilling air.

Chanhee licks his lips, scanning your topless figure, grunting at the sight of everything that he has ever wanted in his life. He didn’t waste another moment and you didn’t even bother to bat an eye when you saw your laptop being pushed away from the corner of your eye, almost at the edge of the table by how desperate the two of you are for each other. A little push was given to your shoulder and you lay your heated back on the small desk. The sudden change in temperature makes you want to curl up to conserve your body heat, including your knees that have started to rise but failed to when they get pushed back down. 

"Shit." There was that little nudge behind the thin fabric of his pants that made your entire body shake. “God, you’re so…ugh…” 

“Don’t know if you should be muttering his name when I’m right here.” Determination courses through his body when the visible tip of the tent from his pants makes contact with your aching core. You whimper and twist your body to the side, unable to handle the newfound pleasure that he’s giving you.

Chanhee keeps a grip on your shuddering body by your arms, communicating for you to keep still under him from his eyes. You get the message, clashing your lips with his to devour every bit of him. He keeps your mouth busy as he rolls your panties down just enough for you to kick it off somewhere in the room and takes care of his pairs afterwards.

A hand supports his long shaft, Chanhee purposely nudges the tip of the head onto your swollen clit, pushing and pulling to hear the moans release from you whenever he does so. You're still very sensitive with your senses heightened and he's using that to his very advantage.

There's a smirk painted on his lips but the hand that cups your face says that he’s still willing to stop if you give him any indication. But fuck that because there's no way you would tell him to stop. Not when he lays his forehead to yours and starts pushing himself into your dripping hole. 

“Good girl,” Chanhee kisses the sweat dripping down the side of your face. “I’m going to keep going.” And he starts to push in deeper through different angles, moving through your velvet walls at the pace that you like.

It’s times like these when you remember once more that Chanhee is the only one for you: his hand that holds the curves of your waist, the other reaching the base of your neck but never hurting you, gripping your flesh with the right possessiveness, his moans that rile you up even further, the way he controls the rolling of his hips with yours so that he can touch the spot that makes you delirious, how he tries his best to keep his eyes open not only because he wants to see you under him but also to make sure you’re alright despite wanting to deprive the sensory information so that he can focus on the feeling where your bodies meet—he’s so perfect for you.

“C-Chanhee…” Your nails lightly scratch the surface of his arms, feeling the familiar wave of pleasure growing closer and closer to you. “I’m so close!...”

“Me too.” He groans and feverishly kisses your lips. “I want you to focus on the sensations from your lower body parts.” He buries his lips in the crook of your neck, biting and pulling your skin with his teeth. “Can you be a good girl and do that for me?” His pelvis continues to do his work on your body, his hold on your hips keeping you from moving too far away from his thrusting. His thumbs swipe your skin, a silent plea for you to release first. “Come on, baby girl.” He grits his teeth, his neck veins visible, “Let go all over me.”

Within a few seconds, you come undone under his hold and Chanhee releases his love for you deep inside your body. His arms give out immediately, burying his face into your chest, gulping and relishing how your liquids mixed, taking in the drip that escapes and runs down from your hole. Chanhee still lets out praises, kissing every part of you that he can, smiling at your pants and ‘thank you’s.

“You’re so perfect.” Whispering to the shell of your ear, patting your head and soothing you from the passionate session. “You did so well.”

“I love you.” It comes out a bit croaked but the genuine emotions from it didn’t get lost.

“I love you too.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿@sanaxo-o

[starlitmark]

Summary: You love watching your pretty boy cry. Pairing: Chanhee (New) x fem!reader Tropes: established relationship au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language Smut Warnings: dacryphilia, brat taming, edging, overstimulation, switch!Chanhee, dirty talk, thigh-slapping, handjob, petty names (pretty boy/ baby), boob job, dry orgasm Word Count: 1,021 Note: Thank you so much to @anyamaris for beta/proofing this February Filth Masterlist Before You Interact Host Tags: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye

Listen to ♡ Baby Boy by Beyoncé (ft. Sean Paul)

“Are you sorry yet, pretty boy?” You nearly purr.

Chanhee sneers at you, though it’s in vain, as he lets a strangled whimper escape his lips a moment later. You chuckle and slowly stroke his cock. You know he wants to cave. He’s far too much of a brat to give in without a fight first. You, however, know precisely how to pick him apart and make him crumble.

“You wish.” He bites, “You can– fuck– try all you want. I’m not apologizing for anything.”

“Those are fighting words, Chanhee.” You warn, rubbing your thumb against his tip, “You sure you don’t want to be a good boy for me?”

He huffs at you, and that’s answer enough for you. You start jerking him off at a fast pace, making him let out a broken gasp. His hips buck up into your touch, hoping to bring him closer to his high. You use your free hand to smack his thigh.

“Watch it, pretty boy. You wanna be a brat you’ll be treated like a fucking brat.” You hiss.

His eyes are shiny and slightly closed from pleasure. You keep your gaze locked on him, keeping a mental log of how close he is. You pull your hands off him entirely when he pulls his lower lip between his teeth. He whines at the loss of contact. His cock stands tall, the pretty pink color shiny with precum and lube.

“Why did you stop?” He pouts, “I was close.”

“That’s why I stopped, pretty boy.”

“That’s rude.” He scoffs.

You raise an eyebrow at him and smack his thigh again, “Brats get edged, and you know that.”

You graze one finger along the underside of his wet cock, watching how it jumps at the contact.

“You ready to apologize for being bratty?”

“If you let me cum I will be.”

You wrap your hand fully around him again. He moans at the feeling. Chanhee’s eyebrows furrow together as his head bows forward. You pull his cock slowly and a bit tighter than you usually do. A whimper falls from his mouth as a bead of precum drips from his tip. You bring your other hand up to play with his tip, wrapping your thumb and forefinger around the base of his tip and turning your wrist. The new sensation makes him moan loudly. Just as his moans get pitchy and airy, you again release his member.

“No,” he whines.

You pout with faux pity, “Oh no, what’re we gonna do?”

“Want–” He cuts himself off with another whimper.

You hear a little sniffle, then process that he’s crying. Wiping your hand off on his abandoned shirt you reach up to wipe away a tear with your thumb. He looks fucking gorgeous when he cries from pleasure and need. Any other time you hate to see him cry, right now, he looks like the most beautifully debauched thing you’ve ever seen.

“You’re taking your punishment so well, pretty boy. We aren’t done, though.”

“Please,” He asks in a sweet tone.

“Please, what, baby?”

“Wanna cum, wanna cum so bad.” He admits, bucking his hips up toward you to further his point.

You smile softly at him. You start playing with him again and allow him to thrust into your fist. Mindless begs, and pleas fall from his lips endlessly. It’s not until now that you realize you’re also quite needy. Your panties are beyond destroyed, but right now, all you want to do is focus on your pretty boy and his cries. Tears stream down his cheeks, making his eyes shiny, as he desperately chases his high.

“I’m gonna– please!” He moans.

“Go on, pretty boy.” You encourage, “Make a mess on yourself.”

He throws his head back as his orgasm hits. More pretty tears roll down his cheeks as he rides out his high. You don’t stop moving your hands around him, either. Even when he starts to come back to Earth, you continue jerking him off. The moment he processes the fact that you’re still playing with him, he starts squirming, trying to stop you.

“If it’s too much for you, you know what to say.” He shakes his head in response, “Okay, pretty boy, if you need to use our safeword, you do it.”

He continues to pant and whine at the feeling. You know a second orgasm is bound to come soon. You let go of his cock for a brief moment, earning a whine which turns into another strangled moan when you engulf his member in your breasts. His cum and the lube works perfectly to allow you to move easily around him. Suddenly, he starts panting harder, small moans interrupting his breaths. His body shakes, and his moans break free. The room is nothing but wet sounds and moans in the air. You finally release him and wipe away some tears again. He lies back on the bed, breathing heavily. Climbing up onto the bed beside him, you carefully check on him.

“You alright, pretty boy? That was a really strong dry orgasm, wasn’t it?”

“‘M okay.” He sniffles.

You smile and lean closer to him. He smiles back sleepily. Brushing a hand through his hair, you kiss his cheek softly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

“W-what about–”

“Don’t worry about me, baby. I want to take care of you now.”

He sits up slightly, leaning on his elbows. You watch him, but don’t stop him. He kisses you tentatively. Slowly, the kiss grows gradually more sloppy and needy. You moan into the kiss. Somehow, when you pull away, he’s over you. He smiles at you like a cat who’s caught his prey.

“It’s my turn to have some fun.” He says with a teasing lilt.

“Chanhee–”

Your words are cut off by his lips on yours again. You let him do what he wishes with you. You’re in for a fun rest of the evening regardless of what he plans to do with his time. His hands trail over your form while his kisses trail down your neck.

“You ready to play some more, sweetheart?”

COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2024© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @bratty-tingz @yeosangiess @minjaeluver @abbietwilight @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

[from-izzy]

"what do you think of flowers/bouquets?" | tbz 98 line

i don't know much about them but if you like them then i'll gladly learn them for you!

​PAIRING » the boyz x gn!reader (not proofread one again 😭) TROPE/AU » established relationship au!, non-idol au!, smau! (text messages!) GENRE »​ most fluff out of all imo, barely any angst, ah maybe changmin's one is a bit angsty??, JUYEON WHY ARE YOU SO CUTE---, kevin and reader praying for each other 🥺 (i find this really comforting and cute to be honest), confident (and cute) boyfriend chanhee hehe, changmin is really thinking (cause i think he's that type of person). WORD COUNT » 395​ ESTIMATED READING TIME » ~2 mins (for all) WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!) » mentions of religion in kevin's

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 hyung line 🤍 maknae line 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'

second one hehe! make sure to check out the hyung line that i released a few minutes ago!! maknae line should be up after around the estimated reading time from now!

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 hyung line 🤍 maknae line 🤍 'especially to you...' tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿@heemingyu

[moonandsunwoo]

tbz reaction to you still sleeping with a teddy bear

# — pairing: bf!tbz x reader

# — genre: fluff

# — warnings: none

→ this was requested. i hope you like this and it was somewhat like you hoped~

🧸 | sangyeon

he just finds it endearing, plain and simple. wouldn’t make a big deal out of it bc why would he, it’s just a plushie! and if you like to keep it around then you shall! he’s easy like that.

🧸 | jacob

would ask for its name and then give it a soft pat before going on about his day. he’d make sure you wouldn’t forget to pack it from that moment on and always double check the floor to see if it didn’t accidentally fall in your sleep.

🧸 | younghoon

his new fave thing is immediately to hold you whilst you’re holding the teddy. probably has a picture of you holding it set as his wallpaper (with your consent ofc). he just thinks it’s so cute and so soft and very much like how he perceives you

🧸 | juyeon

juyeon! would! ask! you! about! them! he wants to know if it/they (if you have more than one) have names, where you got them from, why they are so important to you ect. he would also like to contribute to the expansion of your collection if he may…👉👈

🧸 | hyunjae

he was the one who gave you the plush in question so 🤨 u better sleep with it. but don’t forget to hold him too once in a while, bestie we know he’s a soft boy

🧸 | changmin

“So THEY can stay but my chUCKY-“ prepare to argue with him about this. he demands equal rights for his horrid doll and your cutie everything else is blaspHEMY- (he’s totally cool with it, would probably get your teddy and Chucky matching outfits WAHAHA)

🧸 | chanhee

never mentioned anything to you about it. he saw it one evening and then that was it. or you thought. guesss who put the silky bowtie on it (Chanel ofc🙄) or the pearls or the hello kitty addition- yes so he was that.

🧸 | kevin

the man with the army of plushies would just love it. you can put it to his soft friends when you’re out too! for safekeeping yes. you both just have communal mountain of plushies nearly placed on the bed 💗

🧸 | haknyeon

he: 🧐🧐 I tHouGht yOu liKe hOldiNg mE- he’s absolutely joking but he’s also haknyeon so he will also be stupid about it. it’s his duty as a bf oki thanks.

🧸 | sunwoo

tease. you should smack him with a pillow perhaps. (guess who resorts to holding the plush when you’re gone hmmm ew he’s a simp for u bestie there’s no cure)

🧸 | eric

“is that yours? can I touch it?” he’s careful around it bc it must mean something to you if you have it with you when asleep! and he pats the teddy’s head when he leaves the room, every time. but shhhh that’s a secret

© moonandsunwoo