gym rat roommate!seungcheol
— WARNINGS: smut, seungkwan accidentally catch you naked (seungcheol's fault), oral (f. receiving), seungcheol cums untouched, ''begging'', reader tries to be unbothered as seungcheol eats her out, mentions of anabolics jokes and etc.
— WC: 3.2k
you never thought sharing a dorm with a leo would be this damn exhausting. when you both got assigned to the same room, you thought it’d be fine—no big deal, just another dude trying to get through college, right? wrong. seungcheol is the textbook definition of a gym rat, spending half his life lifting weights, and the other half driving you insane.
“can you not leave your towel on the bed?” you huff, staring at the damp mess he’s made.
“it’ll dry,” he shrugs, not even bothering to look up from his phone.
“not the point,” you mutter, tossing the towel into the bathroom.
and then there’s the cabinets. oh god, the cabinets. every time he makes his stupid whey protein shake, it’s like he forgets how to close them. it’s a small thing, but it drives you up the wall.
“are you allergic to shutting doors or something?” you ask, eyebrow raised as you gesture at the open cabinets.
“didn’t realize it bothered you so much,” he says, smirking, which only makes you want to strangle him more.
but the stove? that’s where you draw the line. the dude can wash dishes, sure, but he leaves the stove looking like a battlefield, grease splatters and all.
“seriously, seungcheol, you gonna clean that or what?” you snap, pointing at the mess.
“i’ll get to it,” he replies lazily, which means it’s gonna sit there until you can’t take it anymore and do it yourself.
you two bicker like this all the time, the tension simmering just below the surface. it doesn’t help that he’s constantly complaining about your hair everywhere, or the makeup you leave on the sink when you’re rushing out the door.
“do you shed on purpose?” he grumbles, vacuuming for the third time that week.
“do you have to be such a neat freak?” you shoot back, rolling your eyes.
and don’t even get started on the tv. whenever you switch from his boring sports channels to something decent, like a reality show, he acts like you’ve committed a crime.
“i was watching that,” he says, voice low and annoyed.
“yeah, well, this is more interesting,” you retort, settling in for your dose of drama.
the only time you get any peace is when he’s at the gym, and those hours are like heaven. just pure, blissful silence. and for him? the few hours when you’re at your dance classes must be the only moments he’s not silently cursing your existence.
you always wished for a quiet roommate. not that seungcheol was loud—no, he wasn’t a screamer or anything, but his friends? they never left. you couldn't catch a break from the constant parade of guys stomping through your shared dorm like it was their second home. jihoon, one of seungcheol’s quieter friends, was looking for a new roommate at one point, and you almost packed your bags right then and there. the guy was a dream—silent as a ghost and didn’t have a herd of dudes wandering around the place like it was a frat house.
but nope, you were stuck with seungcheol, who never bothered to warn you before letting his friends take over the living room.
and that’s how you ended up in this mess.
seungcheol had left a few minutes ago for the gym, and you were enjoying the peace, taking a long, hot bath. everything was fine until you realized—you forgot your towel. with no one home, you figured it’d be safe to dash to your room and grab it. big mistake.
thinking the coast is clear, you slip out of the bathroom, water dripping off your skin, and make a dash for your room. just as you reach the hallway, freezing your ass off, you hear it—a rustling from the kitchen. before you can even react, seungkwan rounds the corner, a cup in hand, and both of you freeze.
“AHHHHH!”
you both scream like you’ve just seen a ghost, or, you know, each other naked. you bolt for your room, slamming the door shut behind you.
you can hear the guys in the living room getting startled, their conversation cutting off abruptly as seungkwan yells, “don’t come in here! for the love of god, stay put!” you imagine him standing there, one hand clapped over his eyes, traumatized for life—or not lmao.
from the safety of your room, you yell at the top of your lungs, “CHOI SEUNGFUCKING-CHEOL!”
you don’t leave your bedroom until you’re absolutely sure they’ve all left. you can hear them shuffling around, and then, finally, silence. when seungcheol knocks on your door, you yank it open, eyes burning with rage, and immediately start pounding on his chest.
“what the hell did i do?!” he asks, bewildered, as you keep landing blows on him, your fists connecting with his chest repeatedly.
“what the fuck, seungcheol! i’m going to fucking kill you!” you hiss, your voice barely keeping it together.
the boys who are just leaving freeze at the front door, eyes wide, before they scramble to get out, closing the door behind them in a hurry.
“whoa, whoa, what’s going on?” he stammers, trying to catch your wrists, wincing with each hit.
“what’s going on?! you seriously asking me that right now?” you shout, not giving a damn that he’s confused. his clueless expression only makes your blood boil more.
“i wasn’t even here, what are you talking about?” he says, sounding defensive, and it nearly makes you explode.
“you didn’t even fucking bother to tell me your friends were still here! i thought i was alone, seungcheol!” you scream, your voice reaching that pitch where even he starts to look worried. “and now seungkwan’s seen my fucking ass!”
his eyes go wide, shock written all over his face as he stares at you. “wait, what? seungkwan saw you naked?!”
“yes, you idiot!” you practically screech, your face flushing red with embarrassment. “he saw everything, and you’re to blame!”
“alright, alright, calm down,” he says, though his voice is anything but calm. “just… stop screaming for a sec, will you?”
“don’t tell me to calm down!” you snap back, but your hits start to lose their strength. “i can’t believe this is happening. fuck, i’m never gonna live this down.”
“it’s not that bad,” he tries, but you can hear the strain in his voice, as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as you.
“not that bad? not that bad?!” you glare at him, hands on your hips now, chest heaving. “seungkwan saw my naked ass, seungcheol! you have any idea how fucking mortifying that is?”
he bites his lip, and you can see him holding back something—probably a retort, maybe even an apology. but it doesn’t matter, because deep down, a part of him is seething for a different reason altogether.
“you’re not getting off that easy. i swear, if this ever happens again, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. i don’t care if i have to tattoo a schedule on your forehead, you’re gonna tell me when your damn friends are over!” you snarl, storming back into your room and slamming the door shut, leaving seungcheol standing there, more than a little terrified.
your luck was that seungkwan kept his mouth shut and didn’t tell anyone. he even apologized to you, which, honestly, wasn’t necessary since it wasn’t his fault to begin with. when he showed up at your door, looking sheepish, you waved off his apologies.
“it wasn’t your fault, seungkwan,” you say, sighing. “i don’t even know why you’re apologizing.”
“i know why,” seungkwan mutters, and you catch the way his eyes flicker toward seungcheol, who’s hovering behind him, looking a bit too innocent.
“he made you do this, didn’t he?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at seungcheol.
“are you really gonna scold me in front of my friend?” seungcheol whines, crossing his arms.
“it was your fault,” you and seungkwan say in unison, causing seungcheol to groan dramatically, dragging a hand down his face.
the next few days, you’re still so mad—the embarrassment has lightened, but the irritation lingers. you ignore seungcheol’s existence entirely, which seems to throw him off more than your usual bickering. but the result? the boy falls right into line. cabinets? closed. towels? hung up neatly. the stove? spotless, along with the dishes. it’s like he’s scared to mess up again.
he even starts working out at home, right in the middle of the living room, just so there’s no risk of his friends dropping by when he’s not there. every time you walk by and give him a dismissive huff, he sulks, pouting like a kicked puppy.
“you’re really not gonna talk to me?” he asks one day, mid-push-up, his voice a little too whiny for someone who usually acts so tough.
you don’t even bother to respond, just let out another huff and keep walking.
“come on, y/n, i’m sorry! what do i have to do, beg?” he calls after you, his tone half-joking, half-desperate.
you pause, glancing back at him, his big eyes pleading with you. you almost crack but manage to keep your composure.
you huff, slumping onto the couch, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv. seungcheol scoffs as he watches you, getting up from his spot and kneeling in front of you. you ignore him, your eyes glued to the screen, but you can feel his presence, and it’s hard not to notice how ridiculous he looks, sarcastically begging for forgiveness.
“y/n, come on, forgive me, pleeease,” he drawls out dramatically, hands clasped together like he’s praying, his voice dripping with mockery.
you finally tear your gaze away from the tv, raising an eyebrow at him. “go drink your protein shake, cheol,” you say, your tone dismissive.
he rolls his eyes, placing his hands on your knees, and there’s something in his touch that makes you pause. “okay, okay, for real now. can you please forgive me?”
your eyes drift down to his hands, warm and firm on your kneecaps. he notices the way you’re staring and moves his hands to rest on his thighs, waiting for your response. you stay quiet, taking in the sight of him kneeling in front of you, looking almost vulnerable.
when he thinks you’re going to ignore him again, you finally speak up, your tone dripping with mockery. “do you really want my forgiveness, cheol?”
he hums in frustration, rolling his eyes again, as if he’s bracing himself for another sarcastic remark.
you let a small smirk play on your lips. “then why don’t you make the most of being on your knees, and put that mouth to better use?”
his eyes widen in shock, your unbothered expression leaving him stunned. you can see the gears turning in his head, but before he can even respond, you slowly spread your legs in front of him, your attention casually returning to the tv.
seungcheol nearly freezes on the spot, almost losing his balance as he processes what you just said. but the sight of you, open and inviting, has him swallowing hard, his throat bobbing as he struggles to maintain composure.
he doesn’t know where to start, caught between the shock of your command and the thrill that’s been building up inside him for ages. he hesitates for a moment, then reaches under your dress, his fingers grazing the edge of your panties—the ones he’s already had a peek at earlier. you keep your eyes glued to the tv, acting like you didn’t just ask him to do what he’s been fantasizing about for far too long.
seungcheol’s never been one for preliminaries; that’s just not his style. so instead of teasing, he pushes your dress up, exposing more of your thighs, and hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down. his breath catches when he realizes you weren’t prepared for this—you’re not wearing the usual lacy things he often sees in the laundry, and you’re not wet—yet.
his hands are firm under your legs as he spreads them wider, leaning in closer. the anticipation coils in his gut as he spits on your pussy, watching the wetness slowly glide over your folds. you squirm just a little, the sudden sensation making you shift, but your eyes stay focused on the tv, pretending this isn’t affecting you.
the sight of you like this—so casual, so indifferent—only makes seungcheol more determined. he dips his head down, his tongue dragging a slow, deliberate line along your slit, tasting the mix of his spit and your skin. the thought that seungkwan got to see you naked before he did burns in the back of his mind, fueling his movements.
he starts off slow, almost gentle, but the more you keep ignoring him, the harder he goes. his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it hard enough to make you gasp, though you try to keep it quiet. he can feel your resolve slipping as he works his mouth on you, each stroke of his tongue more focused, more intense.
seungcheol’s goal is clear: make you forget about whatever the hell you’re watching on tv and finally give him the attention he craves. he wants to see you fall apart because of him, to know that he’s the one getting you off like this.
he moves one of his hands to your thigh, squeezing it as he bobs his head, sucking your clit harder with each motion. finally, you can’t take it anymore. your head tilts down, and you meet his gaze—his big, dark eyes looking up at you so fucking needy. the sight of him, lips slick with your arousal, head moving rhythmically between your legs, makes your jaw fall slack.
your hand instinctively reaches for his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you grip him tighter, urging him on. seungcheol hums against your clit, the vibrations making you moan, your focus entirely on him now. the tv is forgotten, the show nothing more than background noise as you finally give him what he’s been aching for—your full, undivided attention.
his tongue flicks over your clit—fast, almost unbelievably so—and your body reacts instantly. your back arches off the couch, toes curling, and your grip on the remote tightens. you squeeze it so hard that buttons are pressed at random, the tv screen flashing through channels, the volume going mute, settings changing. but none of that matters anymore. the only thing you can focus on is the way seungcheol’s tongue works against you, driving you absolutely insane.
he grabs your hips, holding you down because you’re squirming too much, trying to grind against his face despite the overwhelming sensation. every time you move, he digs his fingers into your skin, a low groan vibrating against your pussy. your breath comes out in shaky moans, and even though you can barely string words together, you start talking dirty to him anyway.
“f-fuck, seungcheol—y-you're so fucking good at this, fuck—”
your words are laced with moans, stuttering as you try to form sentences. “y-your tongue... oh my god, i hate you—i fucking hate you,” you gasp, but the way you’re grinding into his face tells him otherwise. “i s-swear, you're gonna make me cum s-so fast, you asshole.”
the filthy words spilling from your mouth only fuel him more. he’s close to losing it, just from the sound of you, from the way you’re cursing him out between moans. his tongue flicks faster, relentless, and he watches the way you react, loving the way your body shakes under his control.
“y-yeah, just like that, don't stop—oh, fuck,” you manage to gasp out, your voice rising as he pushes you closer to the edge. he’s so turned on it’s almost embarrassing, the way you’re unraveling beneath him making him throb painfully in his pants. your filthy and breathless talk, your taste and the way youre wetting his tongue more and more, makes him feel like he could cum right there, just from the way you moan his name.
he’s obsessed with the way you’re falling apart, and when you start tugging at his hair harder, he knows he’s got you right where he wants. your head falls back, the tv now nothing but a silent, blurry background, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his tongue, his mouth, the way he’s devouring you like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.
“god, fuck—cheol, i’m so fucking close,” you moan, your body trembling as you teeter on the edge. he flicks his tongue faster, sucking hard on your clit, desperate to make you cum, desperate to feel the way you’ll fall apart completely because of him.
seungcheol’s hips grind against the corner of the sofa, desperately seeking some kind of friction. when he feels your breath catch, your voice going silent, he risks a glance up and sees you—your mouth open, almost like you’re ready to take him in, and your hand gripping his hair with an iron grip, showing no mercy. the way you’re spasming on his tongue, the tension in your body, it all pushes him closer to the edge.
he lets out a long, whiny moan against you, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and then he can’t help it—his mouth slips from your clit, leaving it throbbing and aching, as his hand rushes down to grab his cock. he presses his thumb against his slit through his sweatpants, feeling the dampness already soaking through. he’s so turned on it’s almost painful, his hips bucking against his hand as he lets out a moan into the soft skin of your thigh.
“fuck, seungcheol,” you pant, spreading your legs wider, acting like you’re not just as turned on by the sight of him falling apart in front of you. “you really came that fast? i didn’t think the gym rat would be such a quick shot,” you tease, your voice dripping with mockery. “what, the anabolics making you weak or something?”
his eyes snap up, and he shoots you a glare, knowing damn well he doesn’t use that shit. “shut the fuck up,” he mutters, trying to sound pissed, but the effect is ruined by the way his voice shakes.
you smirk, your gaze mocking as you look down at him. “then stop whining and get back to work,” you command, your tone sharp. “or do i need to find someone else who can actually handle me?”
seungcheol’s jaw clenches, eyes stabbing you as he leans in again. he bites down lightly on one of your folds, making you jolt and laugh, the sound quickly turning into a moan as he resumes his task.
“that’s more like it,” you say, voice breathy, threading your fingers through his hair again, a satisfied smile on your lips as he starts flicking his tongue over your clit once more.
he grins against you, feeling the vibrations of your moan as you finally let go, focusing entirely on the pleasure he’s giving you. it’s a game for him now, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him, determined to make you lose control all over again. the sound of your laughter + your moans is the only thing he needs, spurring him on as he buries his face between your legs, eager to make you come undone for him, and only him.
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