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#scoup seventeen
bydarkfenix · 10 months
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SEVENTEEN
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hoshifighting · 4 months
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— Synopsis: After years of being Mr. Choi's personal secretary, you had become accustomed to the dynamics of working closely with him. However, fate had brought about a change – Mr. Choi's son, Seungcheol, would now be taking over the company. Unbeknownst to you, Seungcheol had harbored a secret crush on you for years. — WC: 8k — WARNINGS: Smut, mentions of collapsing, blacking out, burn-out, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f. receiving), cock riding (pro-riddah), 'jealousy', all types of moans and whimpering, crush confessions, creampie, reader is mentioned as 'noona' sometimes.
You started at the company fresh out of college, eager to make your mark in the corporate world. Landing an internship and apprenticeship seemed like the perfect opportunity to kickstart your career. But from the beginning, it was a whirlwind. The partners and directors barely acknowledged your presence, treating you as if you were invisible.
Their dismissive attitudes fueled your determination to prove yourself. You worked tirelessly, absorbing every bit of knowledge and skill you could. Despite the frustrations and challenges, you persevered, determined to make your mark.
Then, when chaos descended and problems arose, suddenly you were thrust into the spotlight. Issues that had been brewing for months seemed to land squarely on your shoulders. It was as if your colleagues had only just noticed your existence, expecting you to magically solve all their problems.
But you didn't falter. Instead, you faced each challenge head-on, drawing upon your education, experience, and sheer determination. With each obstacle overcome, your confidence grew, and your colleagues began to take notice.
You hit the big leagues when you stepped into the role of a top executive, becoming the right-hand person to Mr. Choi, the company's director. From picking out his ties to scrutinizing private contracts, your responsibilities spanned the spectrum.
Every single morning, like clockwork, you'd hop into your car with a casket of coffee and croissants for Mr. Choi. Strutting into the office in your killer heels and impeccable attire, you were ready to make an impression, especially during those crucial meetings where you stood by Mr. Choi's side.
Being Mr. Choi's right arm wasn't just about fetching coffee; it was about being his trusted confidante, advisor, and problem-solver, all rolled into one.
"Y/N, can you schedule a meeting with the board members for next week?"
"Absolutely, Mr. Choi."
"Y/N, can you prepare a presentation for the investors' conference?" 
"I'll have it ready in no time, Mr. Choi."
"Y/N, can you liaise with our international partners regarding the new partnership agreement?" 
"Of course, Mr. Choi."
"Y/N, could you buy a birthday gift for my son?" 
"I'll take care of it, Mr. Choi. "
"Y/N, could you book a reservation at that new restaurant for my wife's birthday dinner?" 
"Consider it done, Mr. Choi."
Your life was a whirlwind, with the constant ticking of the clock mirroring the click-clack of your heels wherever you went. Tension hung heavy in the air, creeping up your neck like a suffocating scarf. Dark circles under your eyes were a testament to the countless nights of poor sleep, hidden only by layers of concealer slapped onto your face.
Cups of coffee became your lifeline, keeping your eyes wide open until you finally collapsed onto your bed at night. It was a relentless cycle of hustle and grind, each day blending into the next in a blur of meetings, deadlines, and demands. 
Despite the chaos of your professional life, there was a silver lining: the bills were paid, and then some. Your salary exceeded your wildest expectations, causing whispers among your coworkers about just how much you were making. But Mr. Choi never wavered in his support, always quick to defend your worth and affirm that you deserved every penny.
He'd extend invitations for you to spend time with his family, insisting that you join them at their summer house. You'd seen his family at various company events and dinners, and while you appreciated the gesture, you couldn't shake the feeling of intruding on their private time.
So, respectfully, you always declined, preferring to maintain a professional boundary despite Mr. Choi's insistence一Even though he wanted you to choose even the color of his ties.
On another typical day in the office, you meticulously scheduled a meeting for Mr. Choi, gathering his collaborators for an important discussion. As usual, you stood faithfully by his side, your sharp heels elevating you to eye level with the top brass. 
The room was set, and you watched as the group filed in, taking their seats around the sleek glass table.
But something caught your eye—a figure among the usual faces. It was Seungcheol, Mr. Choi's son, entering the room. It was a rare sight to see him at these meetings, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity.
What struck you even more was the watch adorning Seungcheol's wrist. It was the Audemars Piguet timepiece that Mr. Choi had asked you to purchase for his birthday last year.
You remembered selecting it based on your own taste, so seeing Seungcheol wearing it filled you with a sense of pride. It was a small validation that your choices were appreciated, even by the boss's son.
As Mr. Choi began the meeting, you were right there by his side, ready to assist with whatever he needed.
"Good morning, everyone. Thank you for joining us today," Mr. Choi began, his voice commanding the attention of the room.
You quickly handed him a folder containing the agenda for the meeting, making sure everything was in order.
"First, let's review the progress on our latest project," Mr. Choi continued, flipping through the documents in the folder.
"Of course, Mr. Choi," you interjected, pulling up the relevant slides on the screen for everyone to see.
As the meeting progressed, you anticipated Mr. Choi's needs, fetching him water when his throat grew dry and passing him important documents without skipping a beat.
"As some of you may know, over the past few months, I've been dealing with some health issues," Mr. Choi continued, his gaze sweeping across the room. "And after much consideration and consultation with my doctors, I've come to the difficult decision that I need to take some time away from the company to focus on my health."
Silence fell over the room, the weight of his words sinking in. This was unexpected, and you could feel the tension in the air.
Then, as Mr. Choi's eyes met yours, you saw an understanding dawn in Seungcheol expression. Everything suddenly clicked into place—the presence of Mr. Choi's son at the meeting.  
Then, Mr. Choi continued, "During my absence, I've decided that my son, Seungcheol, will be stepping into my role temporarily."
All eyes turned to Seungcheol as he rose from his seat and bowed respectfully. You couldn't help but feel a sense of uncertainty, but Mr. Choi's next words put you at ease.
"And I have full confidence in both Seungcheol and Y/N," Mr. Choi declared, gesturing towards you. "Y/N will be assisting the whole team, and Seungcheol in any way necessary during this transition period."
You lifted your head, meeting Seungcheol's gaze as he nodded at you. Despite any doubts you may have had, you knew that Seungcheol was capable. You had seen glimpses of his dedication during family dinners, noticing how he would often excuse himself to study, for example.
After the meeting, you found yourself alone with Mr. Choi in the conference room. He looked at you with a gentle expression and asked, "Y/N, why do you seem so worried?"
You offered a small smile, trying to mask your concerns. "I didn't know your health had gotten this bad," you admitted softly.
Mr. Choi returned your smile, his eyes filled with understanding. "I kept it under wraps as best as I could," he said reassuringly. "But I'm confident that everything will be fine, especially with you and Seungcheol at the helm."
Just then, Seungcheol entered the room, and Mr. Choi's attention shifted to his son. "Seungcheol, Y/N will be here to keep you in line," Mr. Choi teased with a grin. "If you step out of line, she has my permission to pull your ear."
Seungcheol chuckled shyly, his eyes meeting yours briefly before he nodded in acknowledgment. 
Mr. Choi raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, she's the best secretary anyone could have," he remarked, his tone teasing. "If she ever decides to leave because of you, consider yourself dead."
You couldn't help but laugh at the exchange, appreciating the camaraderie between father and son. "I'm not going anywhere, Mr. Choi," you reassured him with a smile. "You're stuck with me for the long haul."
The days following Mr. Choi's announcement were a fuss as you attempted to navigate the new dynamic with Seungcheol in charge. You found yourself juggling multiple tasks, trying to prioritize and triage everything so that Seungcheol could acclimate to the heightened demands of his new role.
Despite the added pressure, you remained steadfast in your routine. Each morning, you meticulously dressed, ensuring every detail of your attire was perfect. You prepared Mr. Choi's favorite coffee and croissants, just as you had done for his father every day.
One morning, as you placed the casket on Seungcheol's desk, you noticed him peering up from his papers with a furrowed brow. "Why do you bring me coffee every day?" he asked, his tone curious yet slightly perplexed.
You paused, taken aback by the question. Tilting your head slightly, you replied, "I did this every day for your dad."
Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "Did my dad ask for this every day?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.
You nodded in affirmation, but before you could say anything else, Seungcheol interjected. "You don't need to do that," he stated firmly, shaking his head.
You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off. "Seriously, you don't have to go out of your way for me like that," he insisted, his expression earnest.
You paused, considering his words for a moment before nodding in understanding. "Alright," you acquiesced with a small smile, realizing that perhaps Seungcheol's management style was different from his father's.
As the days passed and the workload continued to pile up, you found yourself working late into the night, long after your scheduled shift had ended. Massaging your temples, you stared at the glowing computer screen, the soft hum of the office, the only sound in the empty building.
Glancing up at the clock, you realized with a start that it was already 10 p.m. The realization made your shoulders sag with exhaustion, but you knew there were still tasks that needed your attention.
Looking around your office, which was nestled within the boss's office and separated only by glass walls, you noticed that the rest of the building was deserted. The departments were dark, their lights extinguished for the night.
As the first rays of sunlight filtered into the office, you blinked in surprise, realizing with a jolt that you had slept at your desk. Glancing at the clock, which now read 6:00 a.m., you felt a surge of panic course through you. You couldn't believe you had let yourself fall asleep at work.
Quickly, you sprang into action, rushing to the bathroom to wash your face, brush your teeth and try to salvage your appearance. Splashing cold water on your face, you hoped it would help wake you up and banish the grogginess that clung to you.
With shaky hands, you reapplied your makeup, doing your best to hide the signs of exhaustion that lingered beneath your eyes. You knew that going home to freshen up wasn't an option—there was simply too much to do and not enough time.
"You're early, Ms. Y/N," Seungcheol's voice cut through the early morning haze, causing you to startle slightly. You managed a small smile in response, trying to mask the fatigue that weighed heavily on you.
As Seungcheol looked you up and down, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious under his scrutiny. Quickly, you averted your gaze, feeling the tension in your shoulders from the uncomfortable position you had slept in.
Without a word, Seungcheol settled behind his desk, and you seized the opportunity to slip out of the office. The ache in your back served as a constant reminder of your less-than-ideal sleeping arrangements.
Heading to the nearest coffee shop, you hoped that a strong cup of coffee would help invigorate you and shake off the lingering exhaustion.
With the reports prepared the night before, you and Seungcheol led another meeting, this time with the financial team. You entered the conference room together, your demeanor professional despite the weariness that still clung to you from your sleepless night.
Seungcheol took his seat at the head of the table, and you sat beside him, ready to support him in any way you could. As the meeting progressed, you found yourself immersed in the discussion, your mind racing to keep up with the financial jargon being tossed around.
However, amidst the exchange of numbers and projections, you couldn't help but notice Seungcheol's occasional glances in your direction. Each time his eyes met yours, you detected a hint of scrutiny, causing you to wonder if he had noticed your exhaustion.
Desperately trying to maintain your focus, you clenched a pen in your hand, using it as a reminder to stay alert and engaged. But despite your efforts, you could feel your energy waning with each passing minute.
As the meeting dragged on, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Your eyelids feels heavy, and you struggle to keep your thoughts coherent. All you wanted was for the meeting to finish so you could finally rest and recharge.
As the meeting drew to a close and the team members began to file out of the conference room, Seungcheol rose from his seat, gathering some papers from the table. You followed suit, clutching onto the edge of the desk for support as you struggled to maintain your balance.
Seungcheol noticed your unsteady demeanor and furrowed his brow in concern. "Y/N, are you okay?" 
"I'm fine," you managed to reply, your voice barely above a whisper. But even to your own ears, the words sounded hollow and unconvincing, the effort only served to make your head spin even more.
But as Seungcheol's voice grew louder and more alarmed, it felt as though his words were merely echoing around your head, distant and muffled, you realized just how drained you truly were. The room seemed to spin around you, struggling to keep your balance, you fought to stay on your feet.
The last thing you saw before darkness enveloped you was Seungcheol's panicked expression as he rushed forward, his arms outstretched to catch you before you hit the ground.
He shaked you as his figure blurred and distorted as your vision faded, and then everything went black, the sound of rushing blood pounding in your ears.
Slowly, consciousness began to seep back into your mind, accompanied by the soft murmur of voices and the gentle beeping of medical equipment. Blinking groggily, you struggled to make sense of your surroundings.
As your vision cleared, you realized you were in the nursery, surrounded by the sterile white walls and the comforting hum of medical machinery. And by your side, sitting in a chair with his head bowed, was Seungcheol.
His presence brought a sense of calm to the room, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude toward him. Despite the strain of his new responsibilities, he had stayed by your side, ensuring that you were taken care of.
You tried to speak, but your throat felt dry and scratchy. Seungcheol must have sensed your movement, because he looked up, his eyes widening in relief as he saw you awake.
You tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over you, forcing you back against the pillows. Seungcheol placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, urging you to rest.
"You collapsed during the meeting," he explained, his voice filled with worry. "They brought you here to rest. The doctors said it was exhaustion."
"Exhaustion? I-" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, Seungcheol cut in, his arms crossed firmly over his chest.
"I saw on the cameras that you slept at your desk," he stated matter-of-factly, his tone tinged with concern. "I noticed becqause you're still wearing the same clothes," Seungcheol added, his tone gentle but firm.
You felt your cheeks burn even hotter at his observation, wishing you could disappear into the floor. The thought of him noticing you using the same clothes from the previous day filled you with mortification, and you struggled to find the right words to respond.
"I... I didn't have time to change," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of exhaustion and embarrassment settled heavily on your shoulders, and you couldn't bring yourself to meet Seungcheol's eyes.
"You need to take better care of yourself, Y/N," he said softly, his concern evident in his eyes.  "I saw you working for my dad for years, and I know how demanding he could be."
You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat at the mention of Mr. Choi. Memories of late nights and early mornings spent tirelessly working flooded your mind, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for letting Seungcheol down.
"But I also know that you can't keep pushing yourself like this," Seungcheol continued, his voice filled with empathy. "You're human, Y/N, and you have limits."
Seungcheol's gaze softened as he looked at you, concern etched into his features. "Y/N, do you remember the last time you took time off?" he asked gently, his voice filled with genuine worry.
You hesitated, feeling a pang of guilt as you realized that you couldn't recall the last time you had taken a break. "Um... I'm not sure," you admitted quietly, your gaze dropping to the floor.
Seungcheol glanced at his watch, his expression thoughtful. "Well, you don't need to work for the rest of the week," he declared, his tone firm yet compassionate.
Your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden announcement, your mind racing to comprehend what he had just said. "But there are still conferences," you protested weakly, rising from the bed with shaky legs.
Seungcheol shook his head, his eyes meeting yours with determination. "I'll handle the conferences," he insisted, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You need to rest, Y/N. That's an order."
You opened your mouth to protest further, but the exhaustion that weighed heavily on your shoulders silenced you. With a sigh, you nodded in reluctant acceptance, realizing that perhaps Seungcheol was right—you did need to take care of yourself.
Despite having time off, your body remained accustomed to waking up at the same early hour as your workdays, thanks to the relentless consistency of your alarm. Each morning, you would groggily switch off the alarm, only to fall back into the comforting embrace of sleep for a few more precious hours.
But something changed during these days off.
Just as you used to bring coffee for your boss, you found yourself receiving a basket of breakfast at your door every morning, each one bearing Seungcheol's unmistakable calligraphy. Instead of the usual croissants and coffee, the baskets were filled with a colorful array of fruits, a healthier alternative that he seemed to insist upon, instead of his dad.
"Fruits are way more healthy than croissants…  - Seungcheol."
[...]
Your phone rang unexpectedly in the early morning hours of your last day off, jolting you awake from a peaceful slumber. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you answered the call, greeted by the voice of Joshua from the Human Resources Department.
"Hello?" you murmured, still groggy from sleep.
"Hi, Y/N," Joshua replied, his voice hushed as though sharing a secret. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
You shook your head, sitting up in bed and giving your full attention to the call. "No, it's fine. What's up, Joshua?"
"I just wanted to let you know," Joshua continued, his tone serious yet tinged with amusement, "Seungcheol asked all the departments to give you some space and let you rest during your time off."
You felt a surge of gratitude towards Seungcheol for his thoughtfulness, but your gratitude was short-lived as Joshua's next words caught you off guard.
"However," Joshua added, a hint of mischief evident in his voice, "he's struggling a bit with managing everything himself. I caught him pacing back and forth in his office for the past few minutes."
You couldn't help but chuckle at the mental image of Seungcheol pacing anxiously in his office. "I'll take care of it," you assured Joshua, determination seeping into your voice.
"Great," Joshua replied with a laugh. "I'll leave you to it then. Enjoy the rest of your day off, Y/N."
As you confidently strode into the building, the weight of the archives in your hand felt oddly reassuring. Despite the lingering fatigue from your days off, you felt a renewed sense of determination as you navigated the familiar halls in your high heels.
The glances from your coworkers didn't go unnoticed, their surprise at seeing you back at work evident in their expressions. You could almost hear the unspoken question hanging in the air—shouldn't you be at home resting?
Lost in his thoughts, Seungcheol snapped out of his trance as he caught sight of you through the glass walls that separated his office. His eyes widened at the unexpected sight of you, and you offered him a small bow as you approached.
Pushing open the door, you entered his office, the determined set of your shoulders belying any trace of uncertainty. Seungcheol watched you with concern, his normally impeccable hair tousled and his lips worryingly bitten.
"You shouldn't be here," he stated, his voice tinged with worry as he took in your appearance.
You simply smiled in response, pressing the archives into his chest with a sense of purpose. "We have work to do," you replied firmly, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination. "Do you want my help or not?"
Seungcheol's lips parted slightly, his cheeks flushing with a hint of embarrassment as he processed your words. After a moment of hesitation, he nodded shyly, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude and relief.
[...]
As Seungcheol sat alone in the dimly lit office, surrounded by the quiet emptiness of the building, a sense of clarity washed over him. He had been so determined to prove himself capable, to show his dad—and you—that he could handle the responsibilities of running the company on his own. But as the days passed and the chaos of the company threatened to overwhelm him, he found himself feeling lost and unsure.
Now, as he looked around at the neatly organized piles of contracts, the meticulously scheduled meetings, and the completed spreadsheets on the computer screen, he finally understood why his dad had always relied on you so heavily. Despite your youth, you possessed a rare combination of competence, efficiency, and dedication that made you indispensable to the smooth operation of the company.
Seungcheol couldn't tear his eyes away from you as he watched from the other side of the table. The soft glow of the computer screen illuminated your face, casting shadows that danced across your features as you worked diligently.
Your unbuttoned white shirt and raised sleeves hinted at the long hours you had put in, while your hair, now gathered in a messy bun, spoke about the intensity of your focus. Despite the exhaustion that lingered in the lines of your face, there was a determined set to your jaw, a resilience that shone through even in the late hours of the night.
Seungcheol marveled at the sight of your manicured nails flying across the keyboard with practiced precision, effortlessly organizing the digital archives with a speed that left him in awe.
Seungcheol let out an exasperated sigh, his frustration evident as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you with guilt. "I feel terrible," he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "You shouldn't have had to resolve all of these problems. I took you away from your day off, and now you're stuck here dealing with all of this mess."
You couldn't help but smile at the poor boy, his sulky expression only serving to make him appear more endearing. "Hey, it's okay," you reassured him, your tone gentle as you reached across the table to place a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm already feeling better, thanks to you."
Seungcheol's expression softened at your words, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "I just wish I could have handled things better," he confessed, his voice tinged with self-doubt.
You shook your head, dismissing his concerns with a playful grin. "Well, you did leave fruits at my door," you teased, unable to resist poking fun at his earlier gesture of kindness. "So I'd say you're doing just fine."
Seungcheol couldn't help but let out a chuckle, his usual professional demeanor momentarily slipping as he made a lighthearted comment about your near fall earlier in the day. "Man, you were this close to eating floor," he quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
You gasped in mock indignation, caught off guard by his informal tone. "Seungcheol!" you exclaimed, your hand flying to your chest in exaggerated shock. "I can't believe you just said that!"
But despite your feigned outrage, you couldn't suppress the laughter bubbling up inside you.
Seungcheol's laughter filled the air as he apologized, his voice laced with amusement. "Sorry, sorry," he repeated, his grin widening as he realized the playful banter between you.
You couldn't help but mock offense at his apology, feigning exaggerated indignation. "I'm deeply wounded," you joked, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you placed a hand dramatically over your heart. "How will I ever recover from such a grievous insult?"
Seungcheol laughed at your theatrics, the sound warm and genuine. "I'll make it up to you, I promise," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "How about dinner? My treat."
You raised an eyebrow in mock skepticism, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Hmm, I don't know," you teased, pretending to consider his offer. "I might need a more sincere apology than that."
But as you glanced at Seungcheol's earnest expression, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the prospect of spending more time together outside of work. With a grin, you relented, accepting his invitation with a playful wink. "Alright, dinner it is."
"Let's go," Seungcheol declared with a grin, his eyes alight with excitement.
You widened your eyes in surprise, a hint of disbelief creeping into your voice. "Tonight?" you echoed, unable to hide your astonishment.
Seungcheol nodded eagerly, his stomach rumbling audibly. "Yes, tonight," he confirmed, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I'm starving."
With a smile, you rose from your seat, placing the neatly organized archives on the side of his desk. "Alright then, let's go," you agreed, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.
As you made your way towards the exit of the empty, darkened building, you heard a surprised whistle from Seungcheol. You couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, turning to tease him playfully. "Afraid of ghosts, Seungcheol?" you teased, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.
Seungcheol scoffed, his expression mockingly indignant. "Please, the building is sinister at night," he retorted, his tone tinged with exaggeration. "How could you possibly spend nights here?"
As you walked side by side with Seungcheol towards the parking lot, the darkness of the night enveloping the empty streets, you couldn't resist teasing him about his earlier comment about the building being sinister.
"It's scarier during the day with that bunch of people around," you quipped with a playful grin, nudging him lightly with your elbow.
Seungcheol chuckled at your remark, his laughter filling the quiet night air. "Was I one of those people that scared you?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement.
You couldn't help but play along, feigning exaggerated fear as you imitated his walk with a comically exaggerated pout and furrowed eyebrows. "Oh, definitely," you replied with mock seriousness, your lips puckered into a pout. "You walk like this."
Seungcheol gasped dramatically, a hand flying to his chest in mock offense. "I'm hurt," he protested, his voice dripping with faux indignation. "I'm a friendly guy, you know."
As Seungcheol held the door of the car open for you, a small smile played at the corners of your lips as you settled into the seat. "You know, in the past, you were friendly with everyone but me," you remarked casually, fastening your seatbelt as he made his way around to the driver's seat. "It's surprising to see how gentle you're being right now."
Seungcheol chuckled at your observation, his laughter warm and genuine. "It wasn't always like this," he admitted as he started the car, the engine humming to life.
You scoffed lightly, shaking your head in mock disbelief. "Oh, please," you retorted, a playful glint in your eye. "I distinctly remember you going out of your way to avoid me at dinners in your house. You'd even skip dinner altogether because of me."
A smile tugged at the corners of Seungcheol's lips at your words, a hint of nostalgia coloring his expression as he navigated the quiet streets.
Seungcheol's voice was tinged with a hint of reluctance as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "I had my reasons," he murmured, a note of hesitation in his tone.
You raised an eyebrow in curiosity, turning to look at him expectantly. "And what might those reasons be?" you inquired, your tone playful yet genuinely curious.
But Seungcheol merely glanced at you briefly before returning his attention to the streets, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. "I'm not going to answer that," he replied firmly, his voice tinged with embarrassment.
You couldn't help but sulk at his refusal, crossing your arms over your chest. "Why not?" you pouted, unable to resist teasing him.
Seungcheol let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. "Because it's embarrassing," he admitted sheepishly, his cheeks flushing slightly at the admission.
You couldn't resist pressing further, a playful glint in your eye as you leaned in closer. "Come on, Seungcheol, you can't leave me hanging like this," you teased, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "I promise I won't laugh."
Seungcheol let out a soft sigh, his expression full of embarrassment and reluctance. "Fine," he relented, his cheeks still tinged with a faint blush. "But you have to promise not to make fun of me."
You nodded eagerly, your curiosity piqued. "I promise," you replied earnestly, your eyes wide with anticipation.
"The truth is..." Seungcheol began, he glanced at you briefly before returning his focus to the road ahead. "I was secretly in love with your impeccable taste in office supplies."
You blinked in surprise, caught off guard by his unexpected confession. For a moment, you were speechless, the weight of his words sinking in. But then you noticed the playful glint in his eyes, the mischievous curve of his lips, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.
"Come on, Seungcheol," you scoffed, "Tell me the real reason."
But Seungcheol merely chuckled, a boyish grin spreading across his face as he feigned pain at your weak slaps on his shoulder. "Ouch, that hurts," he teased, his laughter filling the car.
Seungcheol's voice was hesitant as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "My dad would kill me if he heard me saying this, but..." he trailed off, his words hanging in the air.
"But what?" you prompted.
Seungcheol took a deep breath, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "At the time, I had a crush on you," he confessed, his admission hanging in the air between you.
You felt your breath catch in your throat, your mind racing as you processed his words. You stayed silent, unable to form a coherent response as a rush of emotions washed over you.
After a moment of tense silence, Seungcheol continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "And... I was jealous of you with my dad," he admitted.
A wheeze of laughter escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you clapped a hand over your mouth, trying to suppress the sudden burst of amusement. But it was too late—once the laughter started, it was impossible to hold back.
Seungcheol looked at you, a mixture of confusion and embarrassment crossing his features as he watched you dissolve into laughter. He bit his lip, trying to suppress a laugh of his own, but soon he couldn't hold it in any longer.
Seungcheol's voice carried a hint of mock indignation as he spoke. "You're laughing at my feelings?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.
You tried to stifle your laughter, shaking your head as tears of mirth streamed down your cheeks. "No, no," you managed to gasp out between giggles, "but... me? Your dad?" The absurdity of the situation struck you, and you dissolved into laughter once again, your body shaking with the force of it.
Seungcheol couldn't help but join in, his own laughter mingling with yours as he glanced at you with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice tinged with laughter, "maybe it does sound a little ridiculous when you say it like that."
As the laughter subsided, you wiped away tears of mirth and leaned against the window, still chuckling softly to yourself.
You asked with a playful smile, your curiosity piqued. "Why me, Seungcheol?"
Seungcheol let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he glanced at you. "Well, think about it," he began, his tone lighthearted. "My dad spent every day with you, but I only saw you on special occasions. And every time I tried to catch your attention, you were busy with something with my dad." He chuckled again.
You couldn't help but laugh along with him, playfully shaking his shoulder. "Oh, so I didn't catch your charms at that time?" you teased, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.
Seungcheol grinned, his gaze meeting yours. "I guess not," he replied with a shrug, his tone teasing yet fond.
You couldn't resist teasing Seungcheol a little more. "And your charm was ignoring me when you saw me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
Seungcheol let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Okay, maybe I was a little nervous," he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly.
You laughed at his confession, enjoying the playful banter between you. "Was I really that intimidating?" you asked, feigning surprise.
Seungcheol nodded emphatically, his eyebrows raised in seriousness. "Definitely," he replied.
He continued, "I mean, we're almost the same age, but every time I saw you at dinner, you came looking like a lawyer ready to win a case."
You couldn't help but be curious. "And why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your tone gentle.
Seungcheol paused for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Honestly, before, I didn't really know how to tell you," he confessed, "I wasn't exactly experienced in... well, talking to girls, let alone asking them out on dates."
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his admission. "And now?" you pressed.
Seungcheol turned to you, a warm smile gracing his features, as the car pulled up to the restaurant, Seungcheol got out and hurried around to open the door for you, gesturing for you to step out. "Well, I'd like to think I've gotten a little better at it," he replied, his tone light.
You chuckled softly, stepping out of the car and allowing him to guide you towards the entrance of the restaurant. "I'd say you've definitely improved," you remarked, a teasing glint in your eye.
Seungcheol chuckled, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "The old Seungcheol would be freaking out right now if he knew he is now taking you to dinner," he admitted, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.
As you settled into your seats at the restaurant, the ambiance around you buzzing with the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. Seungcheol sat across from you, a playful smile dancing on his lips as he perused the menu.
"So, Seungcheol," you began, your voice laced with mischief, "tell me about your crush on me when you were just a boy."
Seungcheol's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his gaze meeting yours. "Well," he began, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "let's just say, my crush on you hasn't exactly faded over the years."
You couldn't help but laugh at his bold confession, the unexpectedness of his words catching you off guard. "Oh, really?" you replied, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "And here I thought you were just taking me out to dinner as a friendly gesture." 
You drink a sip of wine, "Imagine if your dad finds out about this little dinner date, Mr. Choi Seungcheol…"
Seungcheol's smirk widened at your response, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "And if he finds out?" he teased, his tone light yet filled with confidence.
You raised your chin slightly, meeting his gaze with a knowing look. "Well, Seungcheol," you replied, your voice steady, "it's not exactly ethical for a boss to take his employees on dates."
Seungcheol's smirk only grew, his confidence unwavering as he leaned forward slightly. "I think I can decide what's ethical while I'm in charge," he countered, his tone playful yet determined. "And besides, what harm could it do after your shift?"
You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in playful skepticism at Seungcheol's suggestion. "Is it normal to take female employees on dates?" you asked, your tone teasing yet curious. "I'm sure the other girls would be interested to know."
Seungcheol's gaze softened as he met your eyes, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I can't speak for anyone else," he replied, his voice low and sincere, "but I only have eyes for one woman in this company."
You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension as Seungcheol's gaze locked with yours, his smile causing your heart to race. "Seungcheol..." you began, your voice trailing off as you searched for the right words.
Seungcheol's smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned forward slightly. "Yes?" he prompted, his voice low.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you meet his gaze. "I have to admit," you started, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart, "it's not exactly the most conventional situation, considering you're the son of my boss."
Seungcheol's smile remained, his eyes twinkling. "Well, technically, I am your boss," he teased.
You raised an eyebrow, "Is that supposed to sound better?" you retorted, a hint of amusement in your voice.
Seungcheol chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair as he met your gaze with a knowing look. "With that title," he replied, his voice laced with playful arrogance, "I can bend the rules a little."
You held your breath for a moment, nodding in acknowledgment of Seungcheol's words. But as you met his gaze once more, a determined look in your eyes, you couldn't help but shake your head slightly.
"You won't win me over that easily," you declared, your voice firm yet tinged with a hint of playfulness.
Seungcheol's smile faltered slightly, a spark of challenge igniting in his eyes as he leaned forward once more. "Challenge accepted," he replied, his voice filled with determination.
You couldn't help but smirk as you leaned back in your chair, your gaze locked with Seungcheol's.
Seungcheol's breath caught in his throat, his expression shifting from playful to slightly flustered. "Damn, don't look at me like that," he muttered under his breath, his cheeks flushing slightly.
You couldn't suppress a laugh at his reaction, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the way you were able to tease him. "Like what?" you teased.
Seungcheol shook his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Like you know exactly what you're doing,"
You couldn't resist the urge to playfully tease Seungcheol, so you tilted your head and fixed him with an intense gaze. "Like this?" you asked, your voice soft but tinged with amusement.
Seungcheol's breath hitched slightly, his feet shifting nervously under the table as he looked away from you, unable to meet your gaze. You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the effect you were having on him, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you watched his reaction.
Seungcheol let out a slow exhale, his eyes flickering back to meet yours briefly before darting away again. "Yeah, like that," he mumbled, his voice slightly strained.
You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his response, enjoying the playful banter between the two of you. "Good to know I still have that effect on you," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.
Seungcheol rolled his eyes playfully, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, yeah, don't get too cocky now," he replied, his tone light but filled with warmth.
As the dinner drew to a close and both of you felt the weariness of the day settling in, Seungcheol pulled up in front of your apartment building. You exchanged a few final words, the playful banter still lingering between you as you prepared to part ways.
With a smirk, you couldn't resist teasing Seungcheol one last time before you left. "Well, thanks for the dinner, boss," you said, your voice laced with a hint of mischief.
Seungcheol chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Anytime, secretary," he replied, his tone teasing yet filled with warmth.
Before you stepped out of the car, you leaned in to plant a quick kiss on Seungcheol's cheek, a gesture of gratitude. "Goodnight, Seungcheol," you said with a smile, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.
"Goodnight, Y/N," Seungcheol replied, his voice soft as he returned your smile.
With one final wave, you stepped out of the car and watched as Seungcheol drove off into the night一giggling like a little girl.
You lay in your bed, the soft sheets providing a feeling of comfort after a long day. Your mind starts to wonder as you take in the moment of silence. That is, until your cellphone interrupts your thoughts with notifications from Seungcheol.
You glanced down at your phone and couldn't suppress a smile when you saw Seungcheol's message. It read, "Since you're such a busy woman, I thought I'd save you the trouble and make plans for Saturday. I'll pick you up in the morning and we'll spend the day at the summer house."
With a playful glint in your eye, you quickly replied, "Just like your dad to invite me to the summer house, huh?"
A moment later, Seungcheol's response came through. "Yes, but this time, you'll go," he wrote, his tone confident yet filled with warmth.
You couldn't resist teasing him a bit more. "Who guarantees that?" you typed quickly, a smirk playing on your lips as you sent the message.
A moment later, your phone buzzed with Seungcheol's response. "I do" he replied confidently. "And if that's not enough, I can promise you good food, great company, and a beautiful view. What more could you want?"
You chuckled softly, appreciating his playful persistence. "Alright, you win. I'll be ready," you responded, feeling a flutter of excitement for the upcoming weekend.
"Great! Looking forward to it," Seungcheol replied with a smiley face emoji.
Just as he promised, Seungcheol stopped in front of your apartment in the morning. You stepped out of the building, the bright sun shining down, and made your way to his car. You were wearing sunglasses and a sundress, a look quite different from the usual office attire Seungcheol was accustomed to seeing you in.
As you slid into the passenger seat, Seungcheol gave you an appreciative once-over and grinned. "Well, look at you," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I almost didn't recognize you without the high heels and power suit."
You laughed, adjusting your sunglasses. "Surprised, huh? I do have a life outside the office, you know."
He chuckled as he started the car. "I must say, I like this version of you." Seungcheol glanced over at you, a playful smirk on his lips. "Finally, I thought you would never get to see our summer house," he teased.
You chuckled, adjusting your sunglasses. "Well, your dad always invited me on weekends to spend the day with you and your brother. I guess I just never took him up on the offer."
Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Really? My dad wanted you to spend time with us?"
"Yeah," you nodded, smiling at the memory. "He would always insist, but I didn't want to intrude on your family time."
Seungcheol shook his head, laughing softly. "You wouldn't have been intruding. My dad probably wanted you there to keep me and my brother in line."
You chuckled at Seungcheol's playful response, shaking your head in amusement. "Of course, you were terrible. I needed to choose my peace," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.
Seungcheol laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No way, my dad told you about all the things we've done?" he exclaimed, sounding genuinely surprised.
You nodded with a smirk. "Yeah, I saved you two from a lot of mess already. I needed to remind your dad to take you two off punishment more than once."
Seungcheol's lips curled into a mischievous smile as he glanced at you. "Let me reward you then?" he suggested, his tone laced with teasing.
You raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Bold move, Seungcheol," you teased, a playful smirk on your lips.
"I grew up, Noona," he proclaimed with the new nickname, his voice dripping with a flirtatious undertone. "I'm not that little boy anymore."
You smirked at his comment, intrigued to see where he was going with this. "Ooh, do go on, Seungcheol," you responded, your tone laced with playful curiosity. "What, pray tell, has changed since I last saw you?"
Seungcheol chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. His smile widened, revealing a glimpse of the boyish charm that still clung to him. "Well, I've grown a little taller, for starters," he admitted, a hint of bravado in his voice. "And I've gained some muscle too."
You couldn't help but playfully tease him further, a challenge in your eyes as your lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Grown taller, you say?" you retorted, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. "And gained some muscle? Aren't you just the pinnacle of maturity now?"
Seungcheol's eyes twinkled as he met your gaze, clearly enjoying the banter. "Oh, don't worry, Noona, I still have my charming ways," he teased, a flirtatious grin settling on his face.
As the conversation continued, Seungcheol's cheeks flushed slightly as he confessed, "The old me couldn't even bring himself to ask out his crush, much less invite her to the summer house to spend time together alone."
Your surprise was evident as you echoed, "Alone? Just the two of us?" A newfound realization dawned on you, and you couldn't help but wonder, "Is that why you invited me, Seungcheol?"
He flashed you a sheepish smile and nodded, his embarrassment adding a touch of charm to his confession.
Seungcheol's flushed cheeks and bashful demeanor confirmed the truth of his revelation. He chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I guess it is," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "I wanted some alone time with you, Noona."
"Alone in a romantic summer house?" you echoed, your voice tinged with a touch of tease. "Well, I suppose we could enjoy the scenic views, relax by the pool, and indulge in some good food and wine. But I have a feeling you had something specific in mind, Seungcheol. Care to enlighten me?"
Seungcheol's gaze flicked up to the rearview mirror, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he caught your suggestive question. A subtle blush crept onto his cheeks, and he bit his lip shyly, clearly embarrassed by the direction the conversation was taking.
He chuckled nervously. "Oh, no, Noona, not that." He quickly added, "I just wanted to spend some quality time with you, you know? Talk, laugh, just have fun together."
"Well, if I wasn't worried about distracting the driver, I might say something even more suggestive," you teased, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.
Seungcheol flushed deeper, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly as he tried to focus on the road. "Noona, please," he pleaded, his voice tinged with embarrassment and something you couldn't read well. "It's hard enough to concentrate as it is. Don't make it harder."
"You're not getting nervous, are you? Is the thought of being alone with me in a romantic summer house too much for you?"
"Hush, Noona," he said with a light-hearted scold, giving you a quick glance. "Can you not talk like that while I'm driving?" his voice slightly strained.
"Relax, Seungcheol," you teased leaning on your seat again. "It's just a little harmless fun. But if it's making you this flustered, I suppose I'll keep the dirty talk for later."
"Please do," he replied, his tone flustered and entertained. "Let's save the risqué topics for when we're not on the road, okay?"
You chuckled, finding his bashfulness endearing. "Alright, alright, I'll behave," you said, lifting your hands in mock surrender. "For now."
"I think the boldest one here is you, from what I see." 
You grinned at his observation, "Oh, you're just noticing that now, Seungcheol?" you teased. "I've always been the bolder one between the two of us. But don't worry, I'll try not to overwhelm you with my boldness."
"I have no doubts about that, Noona," he replied, "Bring on the surprises later. I can handle it."
As you continued your playful banter with Seungcheol, you noticed a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. Years of harboring a secret crush on you, struggling to hide his true feelings, had taken a toll on him. 
Deep down, he was tired of waiting, desperate to express the admiration he held for you. You wondered how much longer he could keep his feelings restrained, how much more pent-up emotion he could bear before they would inevitably burst forth.
As you stepped into the summer house, the pure air filling your lungs, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. Turning to glance at Seungcheol, the reality of the situation finally hitting you一just the two of you. A soft smile curved your lips as you took in the peaceful atmosphere.
Seungcheol, too, seemed affected by the realization.
As you glanced around, your eyes fell upon the family portraits hanging on the wall. There was a charming photo of Seungcheol and his brother hugging their mother, another one capturing Mr. Choi tenderly kissing Mrs. Choi. Your gaze then moved to a playful shot of them both splashing water, and finally, a picture of Seungcheol himself. As you stood there admiring the memories, you felt a warm presence behind you.
With his arms crossed and a wide grin on his face, Seungcheol stood by your side, clearly amused by your initial reaction.
You couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle, finding Seungcheol's amused expression endearing. Turning to face him, you commented, "Looks like Mr. and Mrs. Choi couldn't keep their hands off each other."
Seungcheol laughed lightly, his eyes twinkling. "Yeah, they've always been like that," he replied. "They're not exactly shy about their affection for each other."
"Are you really this egotistical, displaying your own picture on the wall like this?"
Seungcheol chuckled, his smile widening as he playfully rolled his eyes at your teasing. "Oh please, Noona," he replied, "It's not my fault you're just now realizing how irresistibly handsome I am."
You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. "Alright, alright," you conceded, "You win this round, ego extraordinaire. But I must admit, you've always been quite handsome, even if it's a bit exaggerated." You smirked playfully.
Seungcheol grinned, basking in the compliment. "Aww, so you finally admit it, do you?" he teased, a cocky smile on his face.
As you playfully warned him not to get cocky, Seungcheol couldn't resist the temptation. He stepped closer, his hands gently settling on your waist. You could feel his breath ghosting over your lips, his eyes intense and captivating. 
However, you playfully resisted, pushing him away and throwing him a challenging glance. As you walked away, you gave him one last sultry look over your shoulder before disappearing into the next room.
Seungcheol stood there for a moment, dumbfounded by the unexpected turn of events. A combination of surprise and desire coursed through him as he tried to compose himself, his heart racing.
His eyes gleamed with a combination of desire and disappointment, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It was clear that the game had only just begun.
The night had crept upon you, enveloping the summer house in a gentle embrace. As you sat on the balcony, sipping on a bottle of wine, you savored the simple pleasure of sharing a meal with Seungcheol.
The soft glow of the moonlight cast a warm, enchanting ambiance, and the distant sound of the television from within the house provided a pleasant background melody. You found yourself lost in the moment, feeling completely… content in his company.
As you let the flavors of the wine wash over your palate, you paused for a moment, your thoughts wandering to your recent travels. A hint of nostalgia tinged your voice as you spoke. "You know," you began, "I can't recall the last time I took a trip that wasn't connected to work."
You chuckled, swirling the wine in your glass, your eyes fixed on the liquid's dance. "Ah, yes," you responded with a wry smile. "Even if it is my... boss's house." you echoed his words, a hint of dry humor in your tone.
Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Feeling a bit cheeky, are we?" he taunted, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Watch your words, or I might have to dock your pay later."
You laughed, playfully sticking out your tongue at his jest. "Oh, you wouldn't dare," you retorted, a smirk on your lips. "What would the company do without my fabulous work?"
Seungcheol's grin widened, his eyes gleaming. "Ah, you've got me there," he conceded, raising a hand in mock surrender. "I guess I'll just have to find some other way to punish you for that sharp tongue of yours."
You smirked, taking another sip of your wine, and teasingly asked, "Oh, what are we talking about, indeed?" The question hung in the air, laced with a hint of provocation. You knew perfectly well what you were discussing, but you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further.
Seungcheol chuckled, shaking his head at your playfulness. He leaned back in his chair, a suggestive glint in his eyes. "You know exactly what we're talking about," he replied.
You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Do I now?" you said, a mischievous smile on your lips. "And what might that be, pray tell?"
Seungcheol saw through your act, his gaze locking onto yours. He leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a sultry tone. "Oh, don't act all coy with me, Noona," he murmured, his eyes fixed on yours. "You know exactly what we've been dancing around."
You stared into Seungcheol's eyes, the intensity of his gaze setting your heart racing.
Seungcheol's voice dropped to a whisper, his words laced with seductive undertones. "We've been dancing around it all night, skirting around the subject..." he murmured, grazing his fingers lightly against yours.
"But enough games, Noona... You know exactly where this is heading."
As Seungcheol got up from his seat and moved behind you, his hands gently massaging your shoulders and neck, you closed your eyes, enjoying the soothing touch of his hands. 
A soft moan escaped your lips, and you couldn't help but teasingly ask, "So sure of yourself, aren't you, Seungcheol? But what makes you so sure I want this, too?" 
"Ah, Noona, you're a difficult woman to read sometimes," he teased. "But the way you respond to my touch... I can feel the desire building in your body, just like mine."
Seungcheol chuckled, his fingers skillfully working the tension out of your shoulders. He apparently knew exactly how to make you melt under his touch. "Oh, Noona," he drawled, his voice laced with certainty and amusement. "Your body betrays you. Your sighs, your reactions... I can feel the way you lean into my touch. You can try to hide it all you want, but deep down, you want this just as much as I do."
You felt your breath catch in your throat at his words, your breath hitched in agreement to his perception, your body's response betraying your own longing.
Seungcheol's hands continued their ministrations, his touch growing bolder. "You can deny it if you want," he murmured, trailing gentle kisses along your neck, "But your body tells the truth, Noona."
As Seungcheol's lips gently traced along your neck, you found yourself melting even more under his touch, your defenses crumbling. But just as abruptly, you snapped out of the blissful haze, realizing the need to regain control over your emotions. You quickly stood up, breaking the intimate contact.
Seungcheol looked momentarily taken aback, you could see the flicker of confusion in his face, as he tried to understand the sudden change in your demeanor.
You caught a glimpse of his parted lips, still moist from their previous closeness against your skin.
"Noona..." he whispered, his voice laced with concern. "Is everything alright? Did I... did I go too far?"
Your breath shuddered nervously, emotions swirling within you like a raging tempest. You held onto his hands. You look into his eyes, seeing the desperation and longing there. He seems ready to ask for all of you, but the sheer intensity of his gaze makes you hesitate.
"Seungcheol," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's not that I don't want this but... your family, our work, the company... it's just–"
Before you can finish your sentence, Seungcheol silences you with a gentle finger on your lips. His smile widens, and with a reassuring expression, he shakes his head slightly. "Sshh," he whispers, his eyes filled with understanding. "I know what you're thinking, Noona. You're worried about everything that could happen. But right now, in this moment, all I want is to be close to you. Nothing else matters."
"Cheol–"
"You worry too much, Noona," he whispers gently, "Just let yourself feel what's between us."
"C'mere." As Seungcheol guides your steps towards the main bedroom, his warm presence enveloping you, he stands before you, gently lifting your chin.
His gaze captures yours, his voice filled with desire and intent. "For once in your life, Noona," he whispers, his touch on your chin light. "Do exactly what you really want."
With a confident smile, Seungcheol leans closer, his breath brushing against your skin. "Or," he continues, his words carrying a hint of playfulness, "I will."
His proximity ignited a spark within you, evoking a sense of youthful freedom.
Memories of missed opportunities and fleeting moments flood your mind. You bite your smile as you find yourself drawn to his infectious energy and the intoxicating vibe he exudes.
"I dare you," you murmur softly, your voice infused with anticipation. "Show me what you've got, Seungcheol."
As Seungcheol leaned in closer and claimed your lips in a passionate kiss. 一a long awaited kiss一His fingers tenderly brushed against the nape of your neck, while his other hand gripped your waist, scrunching the dress between his fingers.
Your bodies pressed close together, you could feel the fervent thudding of Seungcheol's heart against your chest, mirroring the desperate beats of your own heart. His tongue danced with yours, igniting sparks of desire with every caress. As you allowed your fingers to bury into the softness of his hair, you heard a low, needy moan escape his lips.
As Seungcheol laid you on the expansive bed, his fingers gently encircling your waist, while he held one of your thighs, you felt a rush of heat as he settled between your legs.
The bed felt plush and inviting, while the soft silk of the sheets caressed your skin. With a suggestive motion, he simulated a thrust, and a gasp of pleasure escaped your lips, mingling with the intoxicating friction between your bodies.
Seungcheol gently lifted your dress over your head, revealing your naked form. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes roamed over your exposed skin, and a whine escaped from deep within his chest. He buried his face into your neck, his voice ragged as he whispered.
"Have you been walking around like this all night, Noona? Wearing nothing underneath that dress this whole time?"
You chuckled, biting your bottom lip.
"Can it be possible, Noona..." "You cooked with me," Seungcheol whispered, his voice growing heated with each word, "went shopping at the vineyard, wore that enticing dress, and were completely naked under it the whol– fuck." He couldn't help but let out a playful moan against your neck. "You're driving me crazy, Noona."
As Seungcheol's hand continued its languid path across your body, tracing a languid trail along the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, and finally finding its destination between your thighs, he let out an appreciative hum of satisfaction. "Mmmm," he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.
He parts your thighs, his fingers slipping between your folds, teasing you with gentle, deliberate strokes. "You're already so wet," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "All this for me?" He slides a finger inside you, curling it just right, and then, adds another, making you arch your back and moan.
"Cheol," you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets as your body trembles under his touch.
He smirks, looking down at where his fingers are disappearing inside you. The wet sounds are so loud that they almost drown out your whimpers. "Look at how you take my fingers," he murmurs, his voice dripping with lust. 
Your eyes follow his gaze, watching his fingers move in and out of you, slick with your arousal. The sight and the sound of it drive you wild, making you squirm and whimper even more. Seungcheol's thumb finds your clit, pressing and circling it in a way that makes you see stars.
"You're so tight Noona," he groans, his own arousal evident in his voice. "I can't wait to feel you around my cock."
You moan, feeling the pleasure build to an almost unbearable level. His fingers press deeper, and you clench around them, so tight that his fingers almost slide out of you with each pulse of your walls. Seungcheol bites his lip, trying to maintain his composure, but it's not working.
Without warning, he slides down the bed, positioning himself between your legs. He devours your pussy with a hunger that makes you scream, your body flinching on the bed from the overwhelming sensation. His hot tongue flicks and swirls around your clit, and he drinks you in, savoring every drop of your arousal.
"Cheol, oh my god!" you cry out, your hands flying to his hair, fingers gripping tightly.
He holds you still, his strong hands pressing down on your hips as you writhe beneath him. The combination of his tongue and fingers is driving you wild, and you can feel the orgasm building rapidly. He slides one hand up your body, finding your nipple and rolling the bud between his fingers, making you burn in pleasure.
"You're so perfect," he murmurs against your folds, his voice vibrating through you. "So fucking sweet."
Your moans grow louder, the sensations overwhelming your senses. Seungcheol's tongue moves with expert precision, and when he adds another finger inside you, curling them too, you can't hold back any longer. Your orgasm crashes over you, and you scream his name, your body convulsing with pleasure.
Seungcheol doesn't stop, his mouth and fingers working you through your orgasm, extending it until you're a quivering, whimpering mess beneath him. Only when you're completely spent does he finally pull back, looking up at you with a satisfied smile. His lips glisten with your cum, and his eyes are dark with desire.
"That's my good girl," he praises, sliding back up your body to kiss you deeply. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it only makes you want him more. "Now, let's see how tight you are around my cock."
Seungcheol starts to strip, his eyes never leaving yours as he reveals his toned, muscular body. You wait, watching him with the 'fuck me' eyes. As he finally removes the last piece of clothing, you seize the moment.
With a swift, confident movement, you grab him and push him back onto the bed. He falls back, his eyes widening in surprise. You straddle his naked body, your own arousal evident as you press your pussy against him. His hands slide to your hips, gripping you tightly.
He looks up at you, a devilish smile playing on his lips. "Fuck, I'm in trouble," he murmurs, his voice dripping with admiration. "You're going to be the death of me."
You smirk, leaning down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your bodies aligning perfectly. "Then let's make it worth it," you whisper against his mouth, feeling his cock harden beneath you. 
You grab Seungcheol's cock, aligning it with your wet, eager pussy. As you slide down onto him, you feel the delicious stretch, and your head falls back, mouth slack with pleasure. Seungcheol bites his lip, almost tasting blood, his mind racing with random thoughts to avoid cumming too soon.
"Fuck," he moans, his voice strained as his eyebrows furrow in concentration.
You bottom out, and the sensation is overwhelming. Seungcheol's hands grip your hips tightly, his eyes dark with desire as he tries to keep his composure. The feeling of your tightness around him is almost too much to bear, but he holds on, savoring every moment.
"Too much already?" you purred. "We've barely begun, Seungcheol," you whispered, your breath catching as your core quivered against his tantalizing touch.
As you raised your hips slightly, allowing yourself to sink back down onto Seungcheol, he let out a trembling breath, his eyes closing as his jaw went slack with pleasure. Despite his valiant attempt at forming a response, all that escaped his lips was a strained "Noona" as his body trembled beneath you. 
You start to ride him, bouncing up and down, your juices splashing at the base of his cock. Each time you sink down, Seungcheol's body shudders, moving in rhythm with you. His hands grip your hips, trying to guide your movements一but mostly just holding on for dear life.
"Fuck, Y/N" Seungcheol groans again, his voice filled with raw need. His eyes are glued to where your bodies join, watching as you take him in over and over. "You're so fucking perfect," he mutters, barely able to keep his composure as your tightness drives him wild. The sensation is almost too much, but he holds on, wanting to prolong this intense pleasure for as long as he can.
To give your legs a rest, you start to circle your hips, grinding on him, feeling the tip of his cock hitting your g'spot perfectly. Seungcheol's hands slide up your body, one settling on your breast, squeezing gently, while the other grips your waist, guiding your movements.
"Fuck, that's it," he groans, his eyes rolling back at the sensation. "You feel so fucking good." His voice is husky, filled with desperation as he tries to hold on. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing it in circles to match the rhythm of your hips.
You moan loudly, your head falling back as the pleasure builds even more intensely. "Cheol," you gasp, "I can't hold it much longer." Your body trembles, every nerve ending on fire.
"Don't hold back, baby, don't hold it" he urges, his voice strained but filled with encouragement. "Let go for me. Cum all over my cock."
You hold a little longer to ask him, "How does it feel, Seungcheol," you whisper, "to finally have the woman you've had a longstanding crush on, sitting on you like this?"
Seungcheol stutters, his breath hitching as he feels your walls clenching and unclenching purposely around him. "F-fuck, Noona," he groans, his voice shaky and full of raw need. "It's... it's everything I ever dreamed of and more."
You smirk, enjoying the power you have over him. "Is that so?" you tease, grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles. "I never knew you had such dirty fantasies about me."
He bites his lip, his hands gripping your hips tighter. "You have no idea," he admits, his voice low and strained. "I’ve wanted you for so long. Seeing you like this... feeling you like this... it’s driving me insane."
You lean down, your lips brushing against his ear. "Good," you whisper, clenching around him again. "I want you to remember this feeling, Seungcheol. Every time you look at me, I want you to remember how it feels to be inside me."
He shudders, a deep, guttural moan escaping his lips. "I won't forget," he promises, his hands moving up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "I'll never forget this, Noona."
You lean down further, your breath hot against his ear. "Seungcheol," you whisper, your voice sultry and teasing, "I can feel how close you are. Do you want to cum inside me? Do you want to fill me up with everything you've got?"
His eyes widen, and he lets out a strangled moan, his hips bucking up involuntarily. "Fuck, Noona, you're gonna make me—"
You cut him off with a sharp thrust, feeling his cock throb inside you. "Tell me how good it feels," you demand, your own voice trembling with need. "Tell me how much you love fucking me."
"It feels so fucking good," he gasps, his fingers digging into your hips. "I love it, Noona. I love fucking you so much. You're so tight, so wet, I can't hold on—"
You can feel your own orgasm building, spurred on by his desperate words and the intensity of his gaze. "That's it, baby," you purr, riding him harder. "Cum for me, Seungcheol. Fill me up. I want to feel you cumming inside me."
His eyes roll back, and he grips you even tighter. "I'm gonna—fuck, I'm cumming—"
"Fu一... ahh,"
As Seungcheol's release fills you to the brim, you feel a warm, liquid sensation spreading inside you, overflowing with his essence. He holds you close, pressing your bodies together as if to recompose the bond between you.
Just as you're catching your breath and basking in the afterglow, Seungcheol suddenly flips you over onto the bed with a determined look in his eyes. His hands roam over your body, trailing fire wherever they touch, and you can feel the familiar ache building within you once again.
"I need to make you cum again Noona."  "Now, let me take care of you."
With a sudden burst of energy, Seungcheol flips you over onto your stomach, his hands roaming eagerly over your body as he prepares to make you cum all over again.
Seungcheol's cock enters you deep and sloppy, the abundance of lubrication spilling out around him. You scream into the sheets as he presses your head down onto the bed, his movements becoming more assertive as he thrusts into you with purpose.
Your breath grew sharper with every thrust, each one pushing you closer to the precipice.
"I've imagined this moment... countless times," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "Having you like this... under me, writhing and gasping."
"So… Ah! Nasty, Seungcheol!" 
Seungcheol couldn't help but chuckle at your teasing remark, his eyes filled with both affection and desire. As he continued to drive into you, he replied with a playful smack on the ample flesh of your ass.
"You have no idea," he murmured.
As you felt the wave of pleasure wash over you, your vision temporarily white in the overwhelming sensations, his name left your throat all whiny and strained. Seungcheol couldn't help but whine in response to his own heightened sensitivity. 
He wanted to please you, to bring you to climax, but the overwhelming experience only made him more reactive to your every move and sound.
The intensity of your climax began to subside, your body finally melting into the sheets, Seungcheol stumbled off the bed, his legs trembling from the intense sex. 
He made his way to the bathroom, seeking out some wipes to gently clean you up, his own breaths still ragged and unsteady.
As Seungcheol returned with the wipes, he found you lying there, chest heaving and breath labored. He crawled back into bed next to you, gently beginning to clean you up, his touch tender and caring.
"You alright there, Noona?" he asked, a hint of concern mingling with his breathless voice. "I didn't... hurt you, did I?"
You reached out, gently running your fingers through Seungcheol's messed hair, a weary yet satisfied smile playing on your lips.
"I'm okay, baby…" you whispered, your voice filled with contentment. 
He couldn't help but bite back a smile at your choice of words.
As Seungcheol continued his gentle ministrations, cleaning you up with the wipes, taking care to not overwhelm you when he brushes the wipes against your clit.
"Baby?" he echoed, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Is that what you're calling me now?" Despite the teasing tone, there was a warmth in his eyes that betrayed his affection
"You're such a big baby Seungcheol…"
In response to your lighthearted comment, Seungcheol couldn't help but chuckle. He leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder before responding.
"Well, I am big, you're not wrong about that," he replied, a mischievous grin on his face. "But I guess 'big baby' suits me just fine, especially if it's coming from you."
As Seungcheol finished cleaning you up, he tossed the wipes aside and draped an arm around your middle, pulling you closer. He leaned in, peppering soft kisses along your neck and shoulder, his touch gentle.
"And your image," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "riding me like that... it's something I'll never forget. It's the most beautiful sight I've ever seen."
"Did you like it?" You ask him, giving a glance over your shoulder. 
Seungcheol furrowed his brows, giving you a slightly exasperated look, as if the answer should have been obvious. "Noona, that was a rhetorical question, right?" he teased, a hint of affectionate amusement in his voice. "Of course I liked it."
[...]
In the soft morning light, sunlight trickled into the room, and you woke to the gentle sensation of Seungcheol's fingers running through your hair. As your eyes slowly opened, you found him already dressed, looking striking in the warm glow.
"Noona," he whispered, his gaze tender and filled with affection. "My parents... they're here."
Hearing this, you instantly sat upright in bed, your eyes widening in shock.
The realization that Seungcheol's parents had arrived hit you like a bolt of lightning. You hastily stumbled out of bed, making a beeline for the bathroom, leaving him chuckling at your flustered state.
You quickly emerged from the bathroom, your hair still damp and clinging to your skin, a bath towel wrapped tightly around your body. You found Seungcheol lounging on the bed, casually scrolling through his phone.
"Cheol," you began with a slight scowl, "why didn't you tell me your parents arrived earlier? I could've prepared myself better!"
Seungcheol shrugged apologetically, a hint of sheepishness in his expression. "Honestly, Noona, I had no idea they were coming either," he admitted, offering a sincere smile. "They didn't give a heads up, and I couldn't warn you beforehand."
You let out a sigh, the lingering worry evident on your face. "It's not just about that," you murmured, "What will they think of me... sleeping with you… their son, my boss?"
"Noona, my parents aren't like that," he assured you, gently squeezing your hand. "They won't judge you based on your relationship to me or your job. They see the person you are, and that's all that matters."
He chuckled softly, attempting to lighten the mood. "Besides, I'm pretty sure they already love you just because you're so good at bossing me around."
You playfully gave Seungcheol's shoulder a gentle slap, your worries momentarily replaced by a smile. As you both left the bedroom, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, guiding you towards the living room.
You had worked closely with Seungcheol's father for years, and the thought of them knowing about your intimate relationship was nerve-wracking. Yet, Seungcheol's calming presence beside you helped ease your nerves.
Mr. Choi regarded you with a warm and teasing smile as you bowed in greeting. "Ah, there she is!" he exclaimed with feigned, feigned, disappointment. "The famous Y/N who refuses my invitations to the summerhouse. But with my son, suddenly she finds the time."
Mrs. Choi chuckled softly at her husband's jest, her eyes filled with warmth.
You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, totally embarrassed. "I'm truly sorry, Mr. Choi," you apologized, your voice soft. "It's just... Seungcheol has a way of convincing me."
Mr. Choi's eyes gleamed with an affectionate pride as he spoke. "When Seungcheol was younger," he began, gesturing with his hands, "he used to come to me, curious about you. He would ask, 'Father, do you think Noona could be interested in someone like me?'"
His voice was tinged with amusement as he continued, "I always told him, 'Son, Y/N is quite the catch. You just need to be patient, and show her your true self.' And look where we are now."
"'How is Noona today?' 'What's Noona doing?' 'When is Noona coming to visit?'" His mom continues. 
Seungcheol's face flushed a deeper shade of red, and he hurriedly covered his face with his hands, visibly embarrassed by his father's words. You seized the opportunity to add to the teasing, a playful grin on your face.
"Oh, Cheollie," you teased, "So it's true, you were quite smitten with me even back then. How utterly endearing."
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svtswhorehouse · 4 months
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DATING SEUNGCHEOL INCLUDES…. — sfw
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• sugar daddy or boyfriend? (the answer is both.)
• the definition of a REAL MAN. no one has ever treated you with as much respect or given you as much love as seungcheol has.
• you're his pretty little passenger princess and he's your personal chauffeur.
• mom and dad of the group, duhhhh.
• he would drop anything and everything just to give you his undivided attention, no matter how important it is.
• yes. he would still love you if you were a worm.
• he would definitely give you his bank card without a second thought. it would also be linked to your phone, he insists on you using it always and would throw a fit when you don't.
• you would also give him your card at times and he always takes it without a fight, but would never use it.
• would take you out on dates in which you can dress up pretty and maybe dine at a fancy and EXPENSIVE restaurant. don't be fooled though. he also pays attention to the little things so if you're into books, he's taking you to a library themed restaurant. if you like animals, he's booking a ticket to orlando and ya'll are going to the rainforest cafe or something.
• you would never have to lift a finger ever again.
• he would wash your car, fill it up with gas, and take it to go get serviced without any complaints.
• he would burn down the world for you.
• he always puts you first. if he had to pick between you or the company (if they ever made him choose) he doesn't even need to think, it would be you every time.
• also your body guard ! any social gathering ya'll attend, he always has his eyes on you no matter how far away you are from him.
• times in which you do drive yourself, ya'll are definitely the type of couple to have life 360 on each other. he would text you saying to slow the fuck down if you're speeding.
• no matter how much you insist he goes to sleep and no matter how late you're getting home — it could be 4 in the morning, he will ALWAYS wait up for you.
• he has the habit of buying you anything you even slightly mention. he also pays close attention to the things you look at when out shopping together and they would show up delivered to your apartment the next day. he would take the heat from you, but still would continue to spend his money on you.
• when you have a bad day, he is already there with open arms ready to give you the biggest bear hug and shield you from the rest of the world.
• whenever you two go out together, he always has a hand on your back to guide you through crowds or just so everyone knows that you're off limits.
• if you ever lose during game nights with friends or really anywhere, he would do the penalties for you!
• he always makes sure you're on the inside when walking near a street.
• if you ever doubt yourself or feel insecure, prepare for a long serious conversation with lots of tears because he WILL NOT be having any of that. no. not when he thinks you're one of the most beautiful, talented, and honorable people he knows.
• you have never felt so safe and secure than when he's around.
• he will constantly be saying "i love you." definitely the type to call you back immediately if you forget to say it and hang up.
• he has a personal agenda out for revenge against anyone who hurts or disrespects you in any type of way.
• he will be your designated driver for not only you BUT your friends as well during girl's night out.
• he may be competitive, but when it comes to you, he would let you win just so he can see a smile on your face.
• says he CAN'T (won't because he's stubborn) fall asleep if he's not cuddling you.
• he becomes the softest most kindhearted person in the world when it comes to you.
• he gets jealous easily, but he trusts you with his whole heart so he doesn't dwell on it for too long.
• when it comes to arguing, no matter if he was in the right or wrong, he is always the first to apologize. definitely the type to get you chocolate, flowers, and ALWAYS gets you a teddy bear after.
• would make you sit on his back when doing pushups or would give you a piggy back ride when he is doing pull-ups !
• he LOVES when you wear his clothes. you would always find his shirts or hoodies on your side of the closet and be like "hmm, how did this get here?" ask your boyfriend.
• rarely ever calls you by your name. always calls you baby or something cute. he also insists that you don't call him seungcheol. he will pout if you do.
• definitely impressed your parents right off the bat. your family absolutely adores him and your parents treat him like a son.
• he would tease you by giving you a hug when he's all sweaty after practice.
• he INSISTS on picking you up EVERYDAY after work.
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keij0h · 2 months
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⌗ NSFW LINKS ┆ hiphop unit
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nsfw links + s.coups, wonwoo, mingyu, and vernon.
CAUTION : nsfw content. twt porn links used. MDNI. click away if necessary.
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Seungcheol
- Deep fucking you after a long day at work just 'cause he missed you
- He can't stop making you cum :(
- Cheol's favorite way to wake you up
- Quick fuck before going out, panties pushed to the side
Wonwoo
- Lazy sex to match the gloomy weather
- He just loves your tits so much
- He's always holding your hands, even during backshots
- His way to relieve stress after a lose streak
Mingyu
- Mutual masturbation (barely)
- Fucking you in an angle
- God, he's so big
- A quick thigh-job
Vernon
- Making out with your swollen cunt
- Twitching while filling you with his cum
- Backshots (ft. handcuffs)
- Worshiping your tits
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a/n: dropping this bc I'm gonna be so busy this week :,)
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galatariel · 4 months
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9 Years of SEVENTEEN 💎 2015 — #세븐틴과_함께한청춘_벌써_9주년 #SVT_Shinin9_Diamonds
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woozivrse · 12 days
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“cheol?” you huffed, amused and smiling down at your fiancé. “what’re you doing babe?”
he’d been doing this every single night since he proposed to you without fail. right before you two went to bed during your nightly cuddles. he’d lay on top of you— making sure his weight wasn't fully on you— and start pecking you with kisses everywhere he could reach.
well, not everywhere. he placed his kisses in the same places every night, and you couldn't figure out the pattern at all.
“kissing you,” he answered. “was it not obvious enough?”
you laughed, rubbing one hand up and down his back. “okay, let me rephrase. why are you kissing me in such random spots?”
“your moles,” he placed another kiss, right on the small mole on your collarbone. “if i kiss them enough they’ll appear in our next life, and i'll be able to find you again,” –he kissed the one under your lips, right in the middle of your chin– “and again.”
you scrunch your nose up, smiling at how absolutely cheesy your fiancé was being. you hadn't even realized he was kissing your moles, and usually you had an unconscious feel of where every single one you knew of was. you giggled ruffling up his hair with both hands and kissing his forehead. “well then, i'll just have to start doing the same to you once you're done.”
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miaoua3 · 1 month
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Stay The Morning?
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Pairing: CEO! scoups x f!reader
Genre: shameless smut (MDNI), one night stand, meet cute, rich ceo x normal girl, morning after, the whole encounter described through flashbacks, mentions of previous cheating
Description: after your previous boyfriend cheated on you, your friends allowed you three weeks of mopping and self loathing before they drag you out of the house and into a bar. little did you know that a certain gentleman will be there and that he will change your world for a night
Note: i went out with my friends, we jokingly went to our local perfume shop, i found cheols perfume (hermes h24), it made me ovulate….bon appetit.
Warning: barely proofread, read at your own risk lmao
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
to say that walking in on your boyfriend and his coworker shagging in your own bed after you’ve decided to come home earlier to surprise him with a warm and delicious cooked meal messed you up a bit was an understatement.
his apologies fell on deaf ears, partly because you didn’t want to hear it and partly because a sudden ringing appeared to be echoing in the shell of your ear.
overcome with rage, you packed all of his stuff in some plastic bags from previous shopping trips, all while he tried to talk to you and explain that ‘it isn’t what it looks like’.
what a bucket full of bullshit.
deciding that 5 bags worth of stuff should last him a few days, you threw them in front of your door before pushing your now ex in the hallway too.
in his boxers only.
but then, your bravery seemed to have disappeared. while your ex was trying to make excuses explain to you the situation, you haven’t let yourself feel a single emotion other than rage and betrayal.
the moment you slammed the door in your ex’s face though, you felt all the emotions suddenly hit you and you crumbled, letting the tears fall down your face.
in these situations, you always find yourself doing the same thing.
and that is call your two best friends.
in the matter of minutes they were in front of your door, with all the necessities like ice cream and tissues.
and they comforted you. for the whole nights.
and the rest of the week.
and the week following that one.
and then third week week too.
well, at least, until friday evening.
at 6pm sharp, your friend, sana, unlocked the door and kicked them with her foot, your other friend jihyo not far behind her.
only to find you on your couch, watching tv with dead eyes, a bucket of ice cream on your lap (now mostly in a watery consistency).
at the sudden outburst, you looked at the direction of your front door with shocked eyes.
sana, having had enough of your bullshit, marched up to you and pulled you up by your arm, “okay that’s it, go take a shower, we’re going out, i have had it with your bullshit. god, you stink, when was the last time you at least put on deodorant, bro? disgusting.”
you, still being in shock, had little space to let out a complaint at her rambling, until she basically pushed you in the bathroom, making you trip over your own feet, before she closed the bathroom door in your face.
after a second, she yelled “oh and shave your legs and everything else, we are getting you laid tonight!”
by the tone of her voice, you knew that you had no choice but to do as she told you. knowing her, she would make the heavens move just to have her way.
an hour later, you were dressed in a little tight cherry red dress, your makeup done by your two friends, hair perfectly done, a black leather jacket resting on your shoulders, your arms intertwined with the arms of your friends, pulling you out of your apartment and down the stairs.
something in your stomach was telling you that that night wouldn’t go as your friend had imagined it. realising this, you raised your concerns.
“guys, while i really do appreciate this, and im sure we will have so much fun, i don’t think i will be sleeping with anyone tonight. it just feels too soon and im not sure if it would be a good idea for me to do that.”
sana scoffs and replies “girl please, your heart is in your vagina, and currently it is broken thanks to the dumbass that you decided to date even when I specifically told you not to, it just needs to be a big dick that will sprinkle some of its fairy dust on it and it will be as good as new-“, she tried to continue, but jihyo decided to interrupt her by letting go of your arm and using the same hand to reach behind your back and smack sana across the back of her head, full force, making her head fly down.
“stop spewing nonsense, even if we wanted to we can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do. plus, if she thinks it wouldn’t be a good idea then it probably isn’t, just because it would work for you doesn’t mean it would work for her.”, jihyo defends you as she intertwines your arms again and rubs the back of your hand with her other hand.
sana just mumbles “we will see about that” in response.
after a few minutes, you reach the bar that you visit semi-regularly aka whenever the stars align and all three of you happen to have a free day on the same day.
sitting at your usual place at the bar, sana orders for all of you before you can even try to protest about how you weren’t in a mood for heavy drinks.
as jihyo and sana are talking between themselves, you look around the bar, just to people watch for a bit, see everyone that is mingling in this bar.
and then you see him.
at the other end of the bar, there sat a man so beautiful it made all of those butterflies you felt on the way to the bar roar together into a chaos.
oh.
he’s so beautiful is the only thought that could cross your mind as you observed him. short black hair neatly styled in a way that it compliments all of his features, dark and thick eyebrows pulling your attention, big and plump lips set in a gentle smile. letting your eyes travel, they end up on his arms, observing how tight the black button up looks on him due to his buff physique. your wandering eyes come to his hands that are resting on the top of the counter, one crossed while the other is playing with the glass filled with dark liquor.
seeming that you have zero self control left, you let your eyes wander back up to his face, to admire the face that you could only describe as if it were sculpted by the gods themselves.
only to find his dark eyes already watching you.
quicker than a thunder, you turn your head towards your two friends again, feeling how hot your face feels due to being caught by the perfect stranger.
you try to go back to the conversation that your friends are having, as a distraction from the most perfect man that you have ever seen in your entire life.
what you fail to notice is that the stranger’s eyes stay on you, caressing your figure with his hot gaze, stopping every few seconds on one of your features, as a way to take not of every little detail and memorise it.
after half an hour, you finish your first drink (that tasted only mildly disgusting due to amount of alcohol it had in it). but it seems that with every sip you took, your self control would lessen and your eyes would stray in the direction of mr.perfect (as you started calling him in your head).
only to snap your head right back because he would already be looking at you, gentle smile playing on the edge of his lips.
the entire time you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, excitement and nervousness. to be completely honest, you forgot how it felt to be excited to have got somebody’s whole attention on you, and to have your own attention solely focused on them.
all the butterflies you felt as you were walking to the bar seem to only duplicate with every little exchange of glances between you and mr.perfect.
just as you raised your hand to get the bartender’s attention, a deep “um, excuse me?” came from your right, making you pause your action to turn your head.
and your breath catches in your throat.
because one and only mr.perfect was standing right there, towering over you due to you sitting and him being so very tall, clad in all black, the sleeves of his black button up rolled up to his elbows, the first few buttons undone, giving you a peak to his strong and defined collarbones, a gentle smile teasing the edges of his mouth.
and his gaze.
oh his gaze was burning you from the intensity of it, making goosebumps arise on your skin.
seeing that he got your attention, he continues with a boyish smile “i was just wondering if i could buy you your next drink? it’s just that- i saw you across the room and i thought that you were absolutely beautiful, and my mom taught me that beautiful women should never pay for their own drinks a-and im rambling aren’t i?”, he finishes with a low chuckle, shyly rubbing the back of his neck.
looking at him, it would seem that a cat got ahold of your tongue because you proceed to just stare at him, both of you waiting for you to say anything.
luckily, jihyo comes to your rescue, behind your shoulder smiles at the stranger and says “she would love to!”
breaking out of the trance, you look at her shortly to see her nodding her head encouragingly, before looking at the stranger again with a blushing face “um, yes, i’d really like that”.
he smiles at you, before calling the bartender over. you tell him your order before he directly gets to work.
as your drink is being made, the stranger smiles at you and puts out his hand for a handshake (his beautifully big, veiny and manly hand, adorned by a ring on his middle finger and an expensive watch on his writs) “my name is choi seungcheol, may i ask for yours?”
blushingly, you put your hand in his and introduce yourself. making some small talk, you learn that he is currently 29 years old, and that he’s here with some friends for a friend’s birthday.
just as you were about to ask him what he does for a living, your drink gets put in front of you, breaking the flow of the conversation.
seungcheol, seeing that the only reason why approached you is done, gets up from his sit next to you, “well, your drink is here, i’ll leave you ladies alone now, thank you for allowing me to pay for your drink, enjoy the rest of your night”. he smiles gently before he starts to go back to his friends.
you weren’t lying that alcohol messed with your self control, because in the time it took him to make three steps, you were up and out of your seat, way too loudly than necessary saying “um-!”.
hearing you behind him, he turns around and to see your flustered face, questionably looking at you.
seeing that the cat is already out of the bag and that you already embarrassed yourself as it is, you continue “y-you know, you could buy me the next drink too? o-or, well, you could just- you could offer me a longer conversation instead? um, actually, i-i’d prefer that to a drink.”, you finish with almost to none dignity left, your entire face burning from embarrassment.
seungcheol, in return just smiles.
and the butterflies go wild again.
oh, no.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
waking up, you notice that your room is suspiciously bright. like, way too bright for it to be your room.
the thought makes you jump and sit up automatically, only to notice the lack of the clothes on your body, making you pull the duvet over your chest.
looking around the room, you realise that you were in somebody else’s bed.
and looking to your right, you get the answer as to whose room it is.
seungcheol is sound asleep next to you, shirtless, laying on his stomach with his face turned towards you, his lips set in a cute little pout, his back muscles moving and flexing with every exhale that escapes his mouth.
and his back. oh. my. god.
there were nail scratches all over his back, making it look as if a wild cat had attacked him. but it wasn’t a cat that attacked him, was it now? no it was your doing.
looking around the room, you realise just how much more spacious it looks in the daylight. actually, everything about his condo is big and spacious (as well as everything about him-).
noting every little detail around the room and thinking about how much everything must’ve cost. but it probably didn’t make that much of a difference to him. no.
because choi seungcheol wasn’t just anybody.
he was a ceo of…some company whose name you can’t remember because you were…occupied with something else when he was explaining it to you (read: occupied by watching the veins in his forearms move with every move of his arms that he made).
the fact that he hid that from you up until the moment you walked into his condo makes you mentally scoff at your cluelessness, because who else would wear a watch that size if not a ceo of a company?
you were willing to ignore the big watch. you were even willing to ignore the ridiculously expensive-looking audi that he drove you in to his place. even the underground garage that he drove into.
but walking directly out of the lift and into the biggest condo you have ever since with the whole wall being just one giant window? oh, no way in hell were you going to let it slide.
turning around to look at him questionably, you feel his hand that’s on your back rub slow circles, and his smile turn into a sheepish one.
“so, just a businessman huh?”, you question his previous answer with a raised brow.
in return he chuckles, “well, i am a businessman technically, i just never mentioned that i was a ceo of a company”, he answers before he toes off his dress shoes and walks in what you were sure to be a kitchen.
you follow him, slowly observing the ginormous living room that you find yourself into, before stopping in front of the big window. his condo had to be the best in the whole of seoul, because the view that you are looking at right now is enough to leave you breathless. thousands of lights from all across the seoul make it look like the night sky.
after a minute you ask him “why didn’t you tell me what you really do? there wasn’t really a reason to hide something like that so i assume that you had a bigger reason for not telling me.”, you turn your head back to be able to see him clearly.
he stops pouring you two drinks for a moment, looks upwards with furrowed eyebrows for a moment, before looking at you with and with upmost sincerity answers “you just didn’t seem like the type of person who would care about things like that.”, he turns his head back to the glasses in front of him before he continues “plus, i was sitting in front of the most beautiful woman i have ever seen, i much rather talk about you and get to know you than talk about my boring work.”, he chuckles as he finishes his thought.
his answer was so simple, yet it got your breath catching in your throat.
you can’t remember the last time somebody really cared about you and who wanted to get to know you, to learn about all the little things about you.
your gaze finally falls on seungcheol’s back again, and on your artwork.
you feel the heat on your cheeks worsen, the longer you look at the marks on his big and muscular back. the heat to your face isn’t the only thing that looking at his back brings to you, but the memories of last night as well.
although your eyes are focused on the view in front of you, you can feel that seungcheol was walking slowly towards you, until he was standing directly behind you. slowly, you see his hand appear in front of your face, holding a glass of water. carefully, you take it from his hand, saying a quiet “thank you” before taking a little sip of the water.
you gently put the glass on the little table holding a vase to your left, before looking in front of you again.
ever so slowly, you feel him inch closer to you, until your back is brushing his firm chest. his smell has your mind clouded-he smells so good, not too strong like most men do, but just enough to have you taking a deeper whiff of it. such a pleasant smell, it had your eyelids closing in satisfaction on their own.
ever so lightly he places his hand in your hip, his hold on it getting firmer with each slow second. at this simple touch you find yourself gasping lowly, goosebumps raising on the skin of your arms.
you can tell by the precision of his moves and how he takes his time with each action of his what kind of lover he is. the type to make you feel safe and relaxed. the type that would put your pleasure in the first place. the gentle but firm type.
the type to be the best you have ever had.
another step, and his entire front is touching your entire back. there isn’t an inch of you that isn’t touching him. you can feel his breath on the back of your head, and your own coming to a still stand in your throat.
slowly, he moves his head until it’s right there, to your right. he lets his head dip a little lower, so his nose is grazing the skin of your shoulder and ever so lightly, takes a deep breath of your smell.
he inhales deeply, at the end of it a little groan rumbling in his chest. he then lets his instincts take over-slowly, he moves his head so his nose travels across your shoulder, up your neck (where for a few milliseconds you feel his lips brush across your skin too, making you gasp quietly), across your jawline, until his lips are right by your ear.
in what must be the deepest voice you have ever heard from a man, he whispers, “tell me to stop…”, he pauses, letting go of his self control for a moment and letting his lips leave a little kiss on the edge of your jawline, before he continues “…and i will stop”.
gone were all the thoughts from your head, which is probably why you find your head falling back on his shoulder, eyes closing on their own, feeling the lack of the air in your lungs getting to your head, and breathlessly, you say “don’t stop, please”.
which seemed to be enough for him, because in the next second he’s directing your face to his own with two fingers and kissing you like he’s dying, and you are the only antidote that could save him.
his tongue massages your own in such a meticulous manner, that it made a little moan escape you. quickly, you break the kiss for the second it takes you to turn around in his hold, not even realising that he now had both of his arms wrapped around your stomach, and kissing him with what must look like desperation to anybody else.
he sucks on your top lip for a bit, before he deepens your kiss, his hand flying up to hold your jaw in place, slowly turning your head a bit to the side so he can get even deeper.
you seem to be out of your mind, because your hand-all on its own- grabs ahold of his other hand that is resting on your back, and places it on the back of your head.
seeing what you probably must’ve wanted, seungcheol takes a second to push his hand into your hair. and then he pulls on it ever so lightly.
and then you moan loudly in his mouth.
and that seems to do it for him, because he groans deeply at your moan, before he breaks a kiss harshly to grab ahold of your thighs and pick you up as if you weighed nothing.
the action got you gasping, your legs automatically wrapping themselves around his hips. but before you had the time to tell him to put you down and that “you were too heavy”, he’s right back, kissing you like he was starving for it-starving for you.
with ease, he turns around and starts walking down the hall. but since he’s only a man, he gets a bit carried away, having to stop and push you against the wall, his kisses now fast and almost animalistic, travelling from your mouth, across your cheek and down your throat. at one harsher kiss to your skin on the neck, you let out a louder moan, which only fuelled his desire, his kisses getting faster, harsher, his tongue touching your skin with his open mouth kisses, the hold he had on your thighs getting tighter.
you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this wet, this satisfied, this hungry for more from a kiss alone. out of the window went all of your consciousness, your thoughts, the only thing that you knew at that moment were seungcheol and that you wanted him. more than you have ever wanted anything else.
gasping while he continues to attack your neck and collarbones, you moan a simple “more”.
and who was seungcheol to deprive his lady of what she wanted?
taking ahold of his actions, he gets a better grasp on your thighs, before he pushes you two away from the wall. in five big steps, he’s in front of his bedroom door, pushing them opened harshly with his foot, carrying you inside, before letting go of one of your legs to slam the door shut, all while still kissing you.
the thoughts that were playing in your mind like a movie got you slapping your face with both hands, covering your whole face with them.
not being able to sit still anymore, you gut up and out of the bed, quickly picking up a random shirt from the chair that was by the door, and out of the room.
you find yourself a bit lost, before you see the door to your left, on which stoop a sign that said “bathroom”. quickly, you run into the room and close the door behind yourself.
breathing out a sigh of relief, you look around to see just how ridiculously expensive the bathroom must look like.
and without any disappointment, the bathroom looks like it came straight out of somebody’s pinterest board- a big white bathtub to the left, to the right what must be the biggest shower you have ever seen, a toilet to the left in front of you, and a mirror so big there wouldn’t be a wall big enough to hang it in your own apartment. the tiles of the whole bathroom were this nice shade of beige, creating a harmony with the white furniture of the room.
noticing how badly you need to relieve yourself, you do yourself before getting up to wash your hands. as you finish, you look up to see just how bad your makeup must look.
and you gasp. because your whole neck is covered in hickeys, bigger part of them looking like they are connecting, making it look like one giant purple hickey that’s wrapped around your whole neck.
you just stand there for a second, in a loss for words as to how bad it looks. if you saw this sight on anybody else, you would think that they got mauled by a bear or some wild animal of sorts.
looking at the hickeys on your body got you blushing, and even more so as you remember how they came to be.
ever so gently, seungcheol puts you down on his big and fluffy bed. putting you down seemed to be the only thing he was going to do gently, because the very next second he’s basically pouncing on you, the kiss continuing after a brief moment it took him to lay you down. you feel his tongue battle with your own, before he pulls on your bottom lip with his own lips, lightly biting it to tease you just a little bit.
his hands go from resting next to your head to caressing your body, until they reach the hem of your dress. he breaks the kiss apart, starting to ask “can i-“.
but before he can finish the sentence, you are whining in his face, glossy eyes looking up at him “take it off, please, take it off take it off, please please please-“.
your begging seems to make him lose his mind just a bit more. quickly and with no care, as if he’s just as desperate to have this tight dress off of your body, he switches his hold to the straps of your dresss, harshly pulling it down your arms and chest, over your waist and over your hips, before giving it one final pull over your legs and tossing it over his shoulder.
for a moment, he sits on his heels and just observes you. he feels his chest tightening due to lack of oxygen, his heart beating so fast he thinks it could stop any moment.
your curves would get him kneeling in front of you if he wasn’t already doing so. and the little two piece lingerie- god, help him, for he is about to sin, big time.
he wanted to look at this sight for a bit longer, to have it embedded in his mind forever, but it seems that his girl is a bit impatient, because he feels your hand harshly pulling on his shirt and feels himself falling down on you before the sound of your whining even has the time to hit the shell of his ear.
you kiss him desperately, your hands everywhere- in his hair, on the nape of his neck, across his shoulders and scratching on his back.
all while whining and moaning in his mouth.
god help cheol if he wasn’t about to cum just from the pretty sounds you were making for him.
seeing as you weren’t willing to let him go, or stop kissing him for that matter, seungcheol opts to multitask and take his shirt off while still kissing you. the moment its off, your hands seem to have a mind of their own, travelling all over his back and shoulders before straying to his front, your firm touch traveling from his stomach to his chest.
deciding that he can’t wait anymore, he pulls on your underwear harshly, making them fly over his shoulder too, before he lets his lips leave open-mouth kisses over your neck, collarbones, chest, stopping for a bit to give you nipples a little nibble over your lacy bra, over your tummy, on your hip.
before he knows it, he finds himself laying between your legs, looking up at you through his thick eyelashes, his gaze hot enough to burn your skin.
he gently takes your thighs in his hands, before putting them on his shoulders. before he can even utter the words, you nod your head vigorously and enthusiastically, feeling your legs shake slightly at anticipation.
and then his mouth is on you. and you gasp.
he licks one long stripe from your hole to your clit, which he proceeds to suck onto lightly, making your hips buckle. his tongue then starts to lap at it, leaving little kitten licks on your clit.
your hand instinctively fly to his beautiful luscious hair, pulling on it, trying to getting him even closer if possible.
understanding what you want, seungcheol then lowers his mouth a bit, probing and pushing at your hole, twisting his tongue when entering you in ways you couldn’t think were humanly possible, sucking on your entrance every time before his tongue enters you again.
it’s embarrassing to admit, but you can confidently say that you have never been this close to the finish this fast.
which is why you try to pull him away by your hold on his hair. but he ignores your tugging, instead lets one of his hands that’s been holding your thigh travel up and take hold of one of your hands, before intertwining your hands and letting them rest on your hip.
such a simple action but it got your heart feeling so warm, you can for sure say that nobody ever made you feel this way by a simple action such as this one.
feeling your finish approaching quickly, you try to warn him, but he just looks at you with what looked like to be completely black eyes sternly, almost as if he was saying “don’t you dare stop me”.
and who were you to do as much?
suddenly, like a big wave, you feel the euphoria hit you, you back leaving the mattress, the hold you had on his hand and his hair tightening to the point you were sure must’ve hurt him, your thighs locking, squishing his face between them, all while moaning so loudly you were sure his neighbours were about to hate you.
seungcheol just continues to lap at your hole, drinking up every little drop of your cum as if it were nectar, closing his eyes in enjoyment, groaning as he makes sure to drink up everything you were giving him.
after a minute, you start feeling a bit overstimulated, whining in protest, which was seungcheol’s cue to stop. slowly detangling himself from your legs, he slowly climbs back up before he’s kissing you, your own taste greeting you on his tongue.
seungcheol breaks the kiss apart for a moment, his eyes as dark as night as he looks you directly in the eyes, before he asks you.
“are you ready to give me more, pretty girl?”
you again cover your blushing face with your hands, peeking just a bit between your fingers to look at yourself in the mirror.
seungcheol is so perfect, in every way possible, that you weren’t sure that he was real. maybe he was just a speck of your imagination, something you made up in your mind to make yourself feel better about your love life.
your hands slowly slide down your face as the reality of the situation starts to hit you, a sour look overtaking your expression.
seungcheol was so perfect. too perfect for you to have him.
knowing that talking to him again will just add salt to the injury, that it will make you realise just how out of your league he is, you decide that sneaking off would be for the best, for the both of you. after all, this was probably just a one time thing for him.
you bend down to pick up the shirt that you took from his room to put on until you find your dress, when suddenly, you feel a sharp cramp in your thighs, making you gasp.
you knew that you two went quite hard at it last night, but you didn’t think it would make walking hard for you the next day.
shyly, you peek at your thighs to see just how irritated the skin must look like, the recollection of the encounter yet again clouding your mind.
as you kiss, you feel one of his hands reach to the side before you hear him fumble with something, breaking the kiss so you both look at him struggling to find the condom in his nightstand.
after a few seconds he finally pulls out a pack, taking one out of the bunch before he pulls back entirely, sitting on his heels.
carefully he unbuttons his pants, pulling them and his underwear just enough for his cock go be freed. and oh god, if that wasn’t the biggest one you have ever had, he was so big and thick, it made goosebumps appear on your skin in anticipation. he rips the packaging with his teeth, and rolls it on himself, all while he still keeps the eye contact going.
seungcheol then lowers himself back onto you, before he teases your folds with his fingers.
in a raspy voice he says “your pussy got me so drunk that i forgot that i need to prep you before i fuck you”, and then he pushes one of his thick fingers in your hole, your gasp so loud in your own ears that normally it would make you feel embarrassed. he then continues “wouldn’t want to hurt my pretty girl when I’m supposed to be making you feel good, hm?”, he finishes and pushes another finger on the next time he pushes back inside of you.
if you had any mental strength left, you would’ve answered him, but there was literally nothing going on in your head other than how good his fingers felt, massaging your walls, scissoring you,his tumb gently massaging your clit in slow circles, pushing and pulling his fingers in a slow but steady pace, ever so often the til of his fingers grazing your g spot, making you moan in his face.
he fingers you as if he had tons of experience with your body, like he already knew how you liked it. and he does it all while looking at your face, his forehead slowly coming down to rest on your own.
after what you felt must’ve been hours when in reality it was just a few minutes, he seemed to be satisfied, pulling his fingers out completely.
and then he pushed the very same fingers inside of his mouth, eyebrows furrowing and eyes closing at your taste, humming in satisfaction as he licks his fingers clean.
you feel yourself clench as you watch him suck on his fingers. he looked like a god as he did it- his hair now messy and fluffy thanks to you, his expression looks like he’s having the best meal of his life, his tan skin glistening with sweat, his naked chest raising as he breathes in and out.
he looked so divine, it made you go just a little bit insane. just a bit.
he opens his dark eyes again, his face turning somewhat serious. seungcheol then slowly lowers himself down again, caging your head with his forearms that come to rest next to your head, making your entire focus shift to his eyes.
without much thought, you wrap your arms around his back, your legs locking themselves around his hips.
in the corner of your eye you see him his hand disappearing down, before you feel his cock teasing your folds, his head catching on your clit when he goes to pull it down back your folds. you gasp at this action, you eyes wanting to close themselves all on their own but your mind makes them stay open as you don’t want to miss a single thing.
his free hand comes to your face, pushing your hair back a little bit, before his tumb comes to wipe your bottom lip, your lips falling open on their own.
seungcheol caresses your cheek with the same tumb, and with gentle eyes and voice asks “ready?”.
to which you only nod your head slightly.
he smiles slightly before he lightly pinches your cheek “use your words, baby. i need to know you are 100% sure about this.”
a whispered ‘yes’ falls out of your mouth, your eyes in a trance with his own, the only things you are able to focus on are those chocolate orbs of his.
and then he’s pushing inside of you.
you both gasp at the burn, having difficulties fitting him inside of your tight hole.
his gasp turns into a rough growl, deeply saying “fuck, so tight, baby, you need to relax for me, otherwise i could hurt you”.
you try to listen to him, taking a deep breath in and out. kind of at the same time you both look down between yourselves.
only to see that he has only pushed his tip inside of you.
dear lord, may he help you survive this night.
as a minute passes by, you feel yourself slowly relax, seungcheol pushes himself a little bit more every few seconds until he’s completely bottoms out, his hips now touching yours.
he gives you a minute to relax, his hand gently rubbing your cheek, eyes lovingly looking at you.
as you give him a slight nod with your head, he slowly pulls out, before pushing back. he sets a slow pace for the start, carefully looking at your face for signs of discomfort, making your heart clench at his little signs of affection.
the pace continues for a few minutes, the thickness of his cock and how it massages your insides making you moan and him groan.
feeling like its not enough, you whine a little ‘more’ to him.
which was either the biggest mistake or the best decision of your life.
he quickens the movement of his hips slightly, the slapping of skin against skin now being added to the harmony that your moans and his groans were making.
his breath starts coming out heavier, the air that leaves his mouth lightly hitting your face as he’s fucking you.
you whine every time he pulls his hips back and moan every time he pushes them back, his cock repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.
but it seems like you are so desperate for more, so insatiable, that you pull him closer to you with your hold around his shoulders, his face falling in the curve where your neck meets your shoulders, your own doing the very same, whining “more, please, give me more, i want more, please please please-“ directly in his ear, your eyes closing in pleasure.
seungcheol stops for second, making you whine in disappointment, takes ahold of your thighs to hitch your legs higher on his hips.
and then he doubles the speed of his hips.
he sets an insane pace, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs, groans and deep moans falling out of his mouth. his dick feels so big, his head repeatedly hitting your spot, making your moans border on screams.
you can’t remember the last time you got fucked this good, and you were sure this will stay in your memory forever.
seungcheol continues with his merciless pace, your muscles clenching around him which in return makes him make more of those beautiful noises.
“you like that, baby? fuck, the noises you make- you are driving me insane. your pussy feels so tight- fuck, i can barely fit. and it’s so wet i- jesus. is this all for me? hm? so wet, just for me baby? fuck, i could fuck you for the rest of my life, never want to stop, want my dick inside of you all the time. you’d like that, wouldn’t you pretty girl? fuck- such a good girl-“
he continues to praise you and talk about you good you feel, how you are being such a good girl for him, and normally you would answer.
(un)fortunately, you have zero thoughts going on in your mind, only able to moan in his ear while he kisses and bites your shoulder, neck and collarbones, the sting barely noticeable in comparison to the slapping of the skin you feel on the back of your thighs. with extra effort, you successfully say through a moan “more, please, gimme more”.
seungcheol growls at this, before he pulls out completely out of you. he then harshly pulls you by your thighs and turns you over, pulling your hips up before you even have the time to let out a gasp. your chest that are now lacking all the air are touching the mattress while your ass is in the air, fully exposed to seungcheol’s eyes.
without any warning he slaps your right ass cheek, something between a scream and a moan flying out of your mouth. not giving you any time to even process the action, he’s already pushing his cock back inside of you, the new angle making the stretch feel even more delicious.
“fuck, my girl is so desperate huh? so desperate for this cock, moaning so prettily for me. fuck, you are going to be the death of me, you and this pussy”.
he basically lays himself on top of you, covering your whole body with his own, his firm chest pressed in your back, before he resumes his quick pace.
seungcheol pounds into you, so much so that you feel your pussy burn from the force of his hips that are slapping against it.
he continues to praise you but unfortunately you don’t hear anything anymore, only things that you can focus on is the delicious stretch of his dick and how it’s repeatedly hitting your g spot.
feeling your finish approaching quicker than expected, you moan out “im coming im coming im comi-“.
seeing that he is in the same boat, seungcheol groans in your ear, his hand quickly finding your own and intertwining your hands. squeezing your hands tightly, he growls in your ear “cum. cum for me pretty girl, fuck- make a mess on this dick”.
he uses his free hand to find your clit and rub it quickly.
and then you are screaming in pleasure. you feel your walls squeezing him harder than ever, milking him dry, which triggers his own release, a deep moan rumbling in his chest against your own back.
he fucks your slowly through both of your orgasms, your mind so cloudy that you don’t even feel the bite on your shoulder that he had to do in order to quiet down his own moans.
after a minute you feel your thighs shake slightly from overstimulation, lightly tapping him on his arm to stop, and he does. he stays inside as he uses his hand to slightly rub the side of your thigh in comfort.
as you try to regain your breath, you feel seungcheol kiss your cheek lightly like a feather, before he asks.
“ready to give me one more, baby?”
your cheeks burn as your thoughts take over your mind again. quickly shaking them off, you pull on the shirt over your head before leaving the bathroom.
as quietly as possible, you enter seungcheol’s room to find him still sleeping on his stomach, his back turned to you. sighing in relief, you make a quick search for your things.
as you pull on your dress from last night, you grimace at the fact that you will have to wear the same pair of panties from last night.
as you make sure that you have all of your things, you slowly head for the doors.
until a voice behind you stops you.
“leaving already?”.
you stop in your tracks before slowly turning around to see seungcheol looking at you through puffy eyes.
“yknow, if you wanted to leave in the morning, you could’ve just told me that last night, i would’ve prepared a car to drive you back, but i was under the impression that you were going to stay and have a breakfast with me”, he finishes as he lightly rubs his face.
you quickly look down, embarrassment and guilt washing over your face. you did want to stay, you wanted to stay for as long as he would let you, but you weren’t sure if that would be okay for him, or if you even deserved it.
seeing the expression on your face, seungcheol then asks, barely above the whisper, pleading looking at you.
“stay? please?”.
you quickly look up to see his gentle eyes, before you answer unsurely.
“would that really be okay with you? it’s just- i wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be a one time thing only or-or maybe- well, something more, so uh, i thought it be better to just leave a-and i-“
as you ramble, seungcheol feels his lips betray him as a small smile slowly gets bigger and bigger the longer you talk. deciding to make this easier for the both of you, he interrupts you.
“baby?”
you look at him with red cheeks, all and every thought you had evaporating from your mind.
seeing that he got your attention, he continues.
“take that dress off and get back in here, i want cuddles…and maybe something more.”
and who were you to deny him anything?
2K notes · View notes
emocheol · 6 months
Text
seventeen when you call them by their name
instead of a pet name
a/n: i forgot how long writing 13 different scenarios takes T-T
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seungcheol
after a long day of practice cheol entered your shared apartment late at night.
even though he was trying to be quiet you still heard the click of the front door and his fumbling around in the entryway. so you decided to get up and greet him.
“seungcheol?” you asked sleepily, rubbing your eyes as you walked out of your bedroom.
he was so taken aback by his name that he didn't even reply for a good 30 seconds.
“i'm sorry for being home late,” he frowned, “don't be mad.” he whined softly, thinking you were upset with him. why else would you use his full name?
you looked at him quizzically and slotted yourself in his arms, he seemed to relax significantly at your touch.
“i'm not mad, what makes you think that?” you questioned, looking at him with raised eyebrows.
“you called me seungcheol,” he pouted, “what happened to baby?” his pout intensified, his lip jutting out further.
you couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics, “i’m sorry, baby,” you teased, emphasizing the pet name, “i didn't know you liked it that much,” you cooed, putting your hands on his cheeks and smushing his face.
“don't tease me,” he grumbled, pretending to be upset, which just elicited another laugh from your end.
“fine, fine,” you said with your hands raised, mocking a surrender, “let's go to bed, baby, you've had a long day,” you suggested, pecking his lips and taking his hand to lead him to the bedroom.
jeonghan
you had been basking in jeonghan's company all day. it was a rare off-day for the idol and you spent every second possible with your boyfriend.
you were currently in one of your lulls of conversation, just sitting in comfortable silence on two different ends the couch while you both scrolled on your phones.
you saw a funny video while scrolling and knew your boyfriend would love it so you looked over at him and called his name.
“hey, jeonghan? look at this video,” you giggled, holding your phone screen in his direction.
but your boyfriend didn't pay you any mind. thinking he didn't hear you, you called for him a little louder.
“jeonghan? hello?” you scooted closer to him on the couch when you went unanswered again.
you poked his cheek and turned his head to make him look at you when he still didn’t answer.
“hello?” you questioned, noticing his nonchalant expression.
“oh? were you talking to me?”he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“yes? i said your name twice!” you whined, knowing he heard you but he was clearly ignoring you.
“no, you said ‘jeonghan,’” he said, making air quotes with his fingers, "and that's not my name," he pouted finally, showing a side of him that you didn't often see.
you realized what he was talking about and tried to hide a grin at his demeanor, “aww, i'm sorry, let me try again,” you cooed, going back to your previous side of the couch to reset.
“hannie... my angel, my sweetheart, my precious?” you tried, “come look at this video,” you laughed, his attention already on you as you listed your names for him.
“of course, my love,” he smiled, getting up from his spot and cuddling up to your side, “look at how easy that was,” he whispered, plucking your phone from your hands and watching the video that you had pulled up.
he pulled you into his arms and nuzzled his cheek against your head, scrolling and looking at more videos with you. “you're crazy,” you said with a laugh, pressing a kiss against his cheek, but you wouldn't want it any other way.
joshua
“joshua?” you called out from the kitchen while you were making dinner. he had been playing video games in the living room ever since his practice was over.
hearing his full name from you made his ears perk up and he quickly shut off his game, rushing to the kitchen.
“love?” he asked softly, putting his hand on your shoulder, already thinking he had upset you he didn't want to anger you further. “is everything okay?” he asked tentatively, testing the waters.
“huh? yeah, joshua, everything's fine can you just-”you said as you stirred the pot on the stove, not looking up at him while you were focused on perfecting the food.
but, when he heard his full name again and the classic 'everything's fine' line he quickly jumped to conclusions and deduced that everything was not fine.
he cut you off before you could finish talking and immediately went into apologizing.
“i’m sorry, love, i don't know what i did to make you upset but i'll fix it, okay?” he said with a weary smile, still with his hand on your shoulder, “was i on the game for too long? did you want me to help you cook? was i too loud?” he rambled, facepalming as he thought he had messed something up and made you mad.
as he rambled you slowly started to look over at him, his words confusing you to no end.
“why would i be upset?” you asked, looking at him as if he was crazy, which he was.
“what?” he questioned back, “you called me joshua and you haven't looked at me and you said everything was ‘fine’, that's like textbook upset partner.” he said, as if it was totally obvious.
you blinked at him a few times before you burst out laughing, “god, babe, you're hilarious!” you exclaimed, slapping his shoulder as you laughed. now it was joshua's turn to be confused since he was positive that you were upset.
“you’re not upset?” he questioned, you shook your head as your answer while you were still doubled over laughing, “why did you call me over then?” he asked.
you pointed to the glass jar on the counter next to you after you had composed yourself, “i was going to ask you to open that jar, dummy,” you teased.
joshua blew out a breath and quickly opened the jar with ease, “that's... it?” he questioned.
“yeah, that's it, you can go play your game some more,” you smiled, pressing a kiss against his cheek.
“but you called me joshua...” he grumbled, you never called him joshua!
“which is your name, if i’m not mistaken,” you pointed out, pinching his cheek. he swatted at your hand and groaned.
he opened his mouth to start complaining more before you quickly stopped him. “okay, okay, i’m sorry babe, you can go play your game again.”
joshua gave you a firm nod, as if he was finally satisfied with your name for him. “okay. let me know if you need anything.” he grinned, kissing your head and then strolling back to the living room.
“you’re a child,” you whispered to yourself, continuing dinner with a smile on your face.
“but you love me!” he called back, somehow hearing you. well, he’s not wrong.
jun
‘thanks, junhui!’
that was the text that you had sent your boyfriend after he told you he bought you a book from the town he was currently in on tour.
he loved gift giving and he knew you loved books so he scoured every bookshop in the town to find the perfect book for you. he excitedly sent you a picture of the book he bought and that was your reply to it.
it made his head spin with reasons of why you could be mad at him.
calling him ‘jun’ was already a rarity in your relationship, but ‘junhui’? he wasn’t sure you’d ever called him that.
‘are you mad at me?’ he texted back, getting straight to the point.
you took nearly 10 minutes to reply, 10 agonizing minutes for jun.
‘not at all, i’ll see you when you get home’ was your response.
now this reply made him absolutely spiral, good thing he was returning home today. but because of your replies to him he made a few extra stops before hopping on the plane.
when you finally arrived back home from work you opened the door and was met with your sheepish looking boyfriend and what looked like a mountain of books behind him.
“babe! what are you doing here? and what is with all the books?” you exclaimed, jumping into his arms and hugging him tight.
jun was taken aback by your reaction, his mind stuck on the thought that you were mad at him. “i thought you were upset with the book i got you… so i kind of bought as many as i could fit in my luggage to make up for it,” he said, his cheeks slowly turning red when he realized you really weren’t mad at him.
you pulled your head back and gave him a look, “what made you think i was mad?” you asked, pulling away and starting to pick up the different books that were piling up on your coffee table.
“you called me junhui…” he whispered, saying it out loud made him feel stupid, it was just a name, his name in fact.
“are you saying that you bought me a hundred books because i called you by your first name?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.
he nodded his head sheepishly.
“you are too cute!” you exclaimed, giving him another tight hug, “for the record, i’d tell you if i was mad at you,” you made sure to clarify.
“okay…” he said softly, looking at the absurd amount of books, “should i return all of these now, or-” he began to speak before you cut him off.
“absolutely not,” you said quickly, snatching a book and sitting on the couch beginning to read.
jun slowly made his way next to you and laid his head in your lap, getting comfy while you read aloud to him.
hoshi
“honey?” you called out in your apartment, waiting for hoshi to reply to you. you needed help folding the laundry and hoshi was always eager to help you do whatever you needed.
you heard a distant, “give me a minute!” come from your shared bedroom where your boyfriend was no doubt playing video games again.
you rolled your eyes at his response and started folding the laundry on your own, giving him a few minutes before calling for him again. “honey? i need your help out here,” you called again, waiting to hear his footsteps.
but instead you got another, “just a sec!” which made you pull out the big guns. hoshi hated you calling him by his name, he said he sounded like you were scolding him. but desperate times call for desperate measures.
“kwon soonyoung! i said i need your help!” you called out even louder than before, knowing that would get him.
once his name left your mouth you heard fumbling coming from the room and the door opening quickly, his feet slapped against the floor as he ran over to you.
he already had the expression of a kicked puppy, “i told you not to call me that!” he pouted, standing in front of you.
you gave him a look and pointed at the spot on the couch next to you, “sit,” you said simply. of course, he followed with no question.
“‘m sorry!” he whined when you wouldn’t talk to him, “i was doing really well! you know how hard that game is, and we were winning!” he tried to explain, sloppily folding clothes next to you as he rambled.
“soonyoung?” you said, cutting him off with his name again.
“what,” he said with a frown.
“just fold the damn laundry,” you said with a sigh, grabbing the clothes that he had folded and redoing it properly.
“you’re scary when you’re mad…” he whispered, starting to fold every item of clothing meticulously so you didn’t have anything to be upset with.
he spent the rest of the day giving you his undivided attention and trying to make up for making you upset.
when you finally called him ‘honey’ at the end of the night his face lit up and you forgot why you were even mad with him in the first place.
wonwoo
you were out shopping with wonwoo when something caught your eye from the window of a store. you tugged on your boyfriends coat sleeve.
“wonwoo-” you started, but you were quickly cut off.
“try again.” he said simply, making you furrow your eyebrows.
“wonwoo?” you questioned, tugging his arm again and making him stop walking.
“try again.” he repeated, pulling his phone out of his pocket and pretending to scroll on it.
“wonwoo, what are you-” he cut you off once again with a look.
“one more time, sweetheart,” he said, pointing you in the right direction. this made it click in your head and you just scoffed.
“babe?” you tried, finally his attention turned towards you and he showed off his award winning smile.
“yes, sweetheart? what do you need?” he asked, his voice sweet as honey.
“you're impossible,” you laughed, “i want to go into that store,” you pointed at the clothing store next to where you were stopped.
“then let's go,” he grinned, pulling your hand and leading you into the store, “you know if you call me by my name people might not think we're together,” he said as if it was an obvious fact.
“we're literally holding hands and wearing matching outfits,” you pointed out, which just earned a shrug from your boyfriend as he started grabbing different pieces of clothing that he thought would look good on you.
sure, he was a subtle guy, but he wanted everyone to know that you were his.
woozi
“jihoon, i'm home,” you called out into the apartment. you had a meeting that lasted much longer than usual and it was already dark out when you returned.
your boyfriend had been home all day and by the smell of fresh food you could tell that he had been cooking.
you slipped off your shoes in the entry way and tossed your bag on the couch before slipping into the kitchen and coming up behind your boyfriend. you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder while he stirred the pot in front of him.
“jihoon?” he questioned, scrunching up his face at the mention of his full name. he didn't hate when you said his name, you just never did. “what're you calling me that for?” he asked directly, not assuming anything.
“i realized i don't call you by name, do you not like it?”you asked, lifting your head up and looking over at him, your arms still around him.
“i don't mind, i'm just used to baby,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “or babe,” another kiss, “love, sweetheart, honey, my one and only,” he listed, pressing a kiss to your face in between each pet name.
you couldn't help but smile at the affection you were receiving from your boyfriend, you pressed a few kisses to his cheek in return and let him resume his cooking while you watched from a seat at the island.
“but you're okay with jihoon?” you asked, wanting to make sure.
“i’m okay with you calling me jihoon,” he said, turning over his shoulder to look at you, “but don't use it too much.” he said, giving you a pointed look.
he wouldn't say it out loud but he loved the sweet pet names you gave him, even the ridiculous ones.
minghao
“what did i do?” was the first words your boyfriend uttered when he walked into your shared home.
you looked up from your spot on the couch and tilted your head at him. “what do you mean?” you questioned, not understanding him.
“i mean, i can tell you're mad so i give you permission to yell at me, just tell me what i did first.” minghao said, bracing himself for whatever you would say to him. by no means did you fight often but whenever you got angry at him he would take it.
“i’m not mad at you,” you said, opening your arms, waiting for your boyfriend to join you on the couch. when he didn't come over you deadpanned, “well now i'm mad that you're not cuddling me.” you joked, waiting for him to come over.
he slowly walked over to you and pulled you against his chest, giving you a cautious look.
“then what was up with that text?” he questioned, pulling out his phone, “you said, and i quote, just wait until you get home, minghao,” he recited, “when have you ever called me by my first name?” he said like it was obvious.
“oh! i made your favorite dessert!” you said with a happy smile, pointing to the kitchen where his treat was freshly made and waiting on the counter.
his face went soft at your happy mood and he gave you a short kiss, “thanks, love,“ he said softly, “but your text did not make it sound like that.” he chuckled.
“oh right, i didn't want to give anything away so i called you minghao, was that too mean?” you asked, hoping you didn't make him worry.
he sighed with a smile and shook his head, “just a bit,” he said honestly, “you never call me minghao,” he pouted, half jokingly but also half seriously.
“i’m sorry, love,” you said, kissing his cheek, “i won't scare you like that again,” you teased, jumping up from the couch and pulling him up with you.
“come eat! i made it all for you,” you said with a smile, leading him to the kitchen and plating his dessert with a smile.
mingyu
mingyu had a cold. and when mingyu got sick he got dramatic. he was currently cuddled up in bed while you took care of him.
you would take his temperature, give him medicine, cook him some soup, and keep him as comfortable as possible while you worked from home.
“mingyu, do you want some soup?” you asked softly, pushing his hair off of his forehead and feeling for a temperature.
his eyes shot open and his lip jutted out. “mingyu?” he questioned softly, “why are you calling me mingyu?” his voice wobbled a bit. but can you blame him? he’s a sensitive man.
“because that’s your name, baby, you don’t like it?” you asked, holding his hand, your voice softened at your boyfriend.
he shook his head at your question, he was always ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart’ or ‘gyu’.
“sorry, baby,” you cooed, “but do you want any soup?” you asked again, hoping it would fix his mood.
“don’t want soup, i want a kiss,” he said with a little mischievous smile, then puckering his lips.
you rolled your eyes, he knew you couldn’t say no to him, especially since he was sick and was on the verge of tears after you called him his first name. “you’re such a baby,” you groaned, “if i get sick it’s your fault,” you reminded him.
“then it’ll be my turn to take care of you,” he said as if it was obvious, leaning up a bit and catching your lips with his.
sure, mingyu was a big baby. but he was your big baby.
dk
dk had been stuck in practice all day while you had a free day. so, being the loving and doting partner that you were you decided to make your boyfriend some dinner. which also included making dinner for his 12 bandmates, but you didn’t mind. you were like a big family.
you were let into the building and made your way to their practice room, hands full of bags carrying multiple different containers full of food.
the boys were all sitting around the room during a break and you popped your head inside, leaving the bags in the hallway.
a few people looked over at you when you opened the door, but every head snapped your way when you opened your mouth.
“seokmin?” you asked, which caused some murmurs among the group.
dk couldn’t remember the last time he was called that name.
‘you better fix whatever you did wrong’ ‘why is she mad at you?’ ‘what did you do?’ different members began to ask all at once to your boyfriend, sending him into even deeper of a panic.
he jumped to his feet and made his way over to you. you didn’t look mad at him, but now he was worried. he grabbed your hand and gently pulled you into the hallway and closed the door to the practice room behind you.
“is everything okay? did i leave something on at home? did i forget to take out the trash?” he asked seriously, thinking of what he could’ve possibly done to elicit you calling him his first name.
you gave him a look in response, furrowing your eyebrows at his rambling. “no… i made you guys food,” you explained, pointing to all the bags on the floor by the two of you, “was just asking you to help me bring it in.”
“huh?” your boyfriend questioned, looking at the bags and then back up to you. “why’d you call me seokmin, then? i haven’t heard that name in ages!” he whined, tugging at your hand.
“oh? i texted jeonghan and told him i was coming over, he told me to call you seokmin,” you laughed, not thinking that he was going to take it that much to heart.
dk sighed and grabbed the bags, pecking your cheek, “thank you for dinner,” he said softly, opening the door to go back into the practice room with you trailing behind him.
his members all looked over and started laughing, apparently they were in on it too.
“you guys suck!” he groaned, “i’m keeping all this food to myself now,” he said childishly, hoarding all the bags by the two of you and trying to keep everyone else away.
eventually he caved and you all ate together, everyone thanking you and still poking fun at your boyfriend.
seungkwan
“seungkwan,” you tried to get your boyfriends attention, standing across the kitchen island from him.
his eyes left his phone and found yours, narrowing in the process. he didn’t say anything so you frowned.
“seungkwan?” he continued to stare at you and you grew slightly agitated since he was seemingly ignoring you.
“can you reply?” you asked with an attitude, crossing your arms.
“i’m just waiting for you to get it right,” he said, mirroring your body language and the amount of sass.
his words only confused you more. “get what right? you’re crazy,” you mumbled, basically having a staring contest with him.
seungkwan just scoffed and rolled his eyes, “my name! i’m waiting for you to get my name right,” he said as if it was obvious. “i am not ‘seungkwan’ to you.” he explained, putting his name in quotations with his fingers.
“are you waiting for me to call you sweetie?” you asked finally, a smile slowly starting to spread on your face. your boyfriend may be a little sassy but he was truly a sweetheart.
“maybe,” he replied simply, his arms still crossed as he waited.
you hummed at his response and then made your way around the island to hug him. “alright, sweetie, i was just going to ask where you wanted to eat tonight,” you grinned, pressing a few sweet kisses on his cheek.
his attitude instantly melted away at the pet name and he pulled you closer to him, “wherever you want, angel,” he replied simply.
it was that easy.
vernon
vernon isn't phased by much. but he does get a little salty when you use his first name on him. he says it sounds too much like a mother scolding him. so, of course, you tease him with it sometimes.
“hansol! can you come to the living room?” you called out in your home, not sure which room he was in.
soon you heard his footsteps and he walked into the room with a scrunched up face.
“yes, darling?” he exaggerated his pet name for you, hoping you'd get the hint.
you spun around in a circle and posed, showing off your new outfit to your boyfriend.
“what do you think? you like my new outfit?” you asked with a blinding smile, posing in a few different ways as your boyfriend watched.
“i think it looks lovely, babe,” he exaggerated again.
“thank you, hansol,” you replied with a sweet smile.
“you look gorgeous, sweetheart,” he tried again.
“thank you, hansol,” you repeated, trying to keep your laugh at bay.
“positively perfect, my love.”
“i appreciate it, hansol.”
“absolutely stunning, angel.”
“you’re too kind, hansol.”
“that’s it, i’m ignoring you for the rest of the day.” he finally said after surveying you for a few minutes. he turned on his heel and walked back to your shared bedroom.
“no!” you called after him, “i’m just joking,” you said in between laughs as you walked fast behind him to catch up.
he shrugged his shoulders and sat back down at his desk, continuing his previous task before you had called him to the living room.
“don’t be sulky now, i was teasing,” you pouted, putting your hands on his shoulders and turning his chair to face you.
“it’s fine, y/n,” he said with a grin, now using your own name back as revenge.
“hey! you can’t call me that!” you whined in response.
“watch me.” he smirked, flicking your forehead gently.
oh how the tables have turned.
dino
this man rarely hears his name from anyone. it’s always ‘dino’ from his friends and ‘honey’ from you.
so when you started calling for ‘chan’ while you were asleep it made his heart break.
‘who is chan?’ he thought to himself, you couldn’t be cheating on him with another guy. right? you wouldn’t do that, he knows you.
but still, once the thought got placed into his head (by no one but himself) he couldn’t help but shake it.
the next morning he was nervous, he didn’t know how to confront you, or what he would do if his suspicions were correct. so while you were making breakfast for the two of you he mustered up the courage to go into the kitchen and talk to you.
“good morning, honey,” you said with a cheery smile, noticing him right away as he made his way next to you. you caught his lips with a quick peck but noticed that he seemed a little tense. “something wrong?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.
dino just wrung his hands together and frowned. “do you have something to tell me?” he asked softly, already feeling on the verge of tears as he looked down at his feet, not making eye contact with you.
“no? what’s this about?” you asked, turning the heat down on the stove so you could give him more of your attention.
“i just,” he started, “well um…” he tried again, “i heard you talking in your sleep and you were calling out for some guy named ‘chan’ and i know wouldn’t cheat on me or anything but who is chan?” his words spilled out of him and he was talking a mile a minute while you looked at him, your eyes widening.
he was bracing himself for the answer to his question, ready for the worst.
“honey…” you said gently, taking both of his hands in yours and making him look at you, “you are chan.” you explained, trying to hide your smile since he was clearly so distraught.
“huh?” he asked, not understanding what you were getting at.
“honey, your name is lee chan,” you reminded him.
you could see the gears shifting in his head before his cheeks immediately heated up. he snatched his hands from yours and slapped his face. he was chan. and he couldn’t feel any stupider.
he was so used to being honey that he forgot his literal name.
“forget this happened…” he mumbled, walking away as you stifled your laughs.
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jeonsupershy · 2 months
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cheol moments that live rent free in my mind🍒💞 #HappySeungcherryDay #띵동띵동_승철이_생일이다_문열어
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ugh-yoongi · 16 days
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ex-conomics | csc
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you supported seungcheol through years of being an aspiring athlete, and all you got to show for it was your undergraduate degree and an awkward, stuttered apology when he dumped you to go semi-pro. now he’s back after an injury derailed his career, and there’s only one problem: you’re the only one available to tutor him. you - 0; the universe - 1. talk about no return on investment.
⚽ pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader ⚽ genre: exes to (lite) enemies to lovers; university au; angst, fluff ⚽ rating: while there is nothing explicit in this fic, there are two brief references to smut. while i can't stop anyone from reading this, i would prefer minors do not interact with this or any of my work. ⚽ warnings: cheol is some degree of famous, reader is a grad student/TA, mentions of an injury and coping with the aftermath of it, lots of economics talk that even i do not understand, swearing, one mention of alcohol, some misplaced jealousy, rom-com tropes, dino is kind of a loser but we love him anyway. probably a lot of other things i missed, but this is actually pretty tame for a fic of this length. ⚽ word count: 13.4k ⚽ thank you: a lot of people looked this over for me in the process and i'm sure i will forget some of them so if i do i'm sorry: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, @highvern, and @haologram, who also gave me some wonderful ideas for the vlogs. thank you to MIT for opencourseware existing. i took microeconomics and dropped it, so i couldn't have done this without you. everyone in the discord server for helping me along the way and keeping me motivated. ⚽ author's note: i haven't posted a fic in nearly seven months, so i think it goes without saying that there are parts of this i like and a lot more i'm not 100% happy with. i'd love if this was more fleshed out and 10k longer, but i was able to write anything at all so it's good enough. this was written for the back to school with seventeen collab, hosted by @camandemstudios. thank you both for letting me participate! please make sure to check out the rest of the stories! everyone worked so hard and this collab was a ton of fun to participate in. <3
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You look down at the paper. Back up at who handed it to you. Down at the paper again.
“You’ve got to be joking.”
The poor freshman kid laughs, all nerves, and even though the sound is grating, you remember what it’s like to be forced into work study. How far away graduate school seemed; how large your professors loomed over you with all their power and knowledge and credentials; how you constantly felt like the dumbest person in nearly every room you walked into for four straight years.
“Um—”
You sigh, just barely resisting the urge to slam your head onto your desk. “I—it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Your words do little to ease Freshman’s nerves. He’s still hunched over in the doorway of your office, wringing his hands as he shifts his weight back and forth, in for a lifetime of body pain with the way he’s squaring his shoulders. “You’re sure about this, though? Like, I’m really not being set up?”
“I don’t think so?” he offers, slowly starting to turn green right before your eyes. “Dr. Lee ga-gave me the paperwork himself, I don’t think he would’ve messed it up? Oh no, did I mess it up? Should I go back to Student Services and conf—”
Good god, this kid’s anxiety is gonna stink up your office for weeks. “No need!” you interject. “I’ll just…” Sign it, you want to say, but the longer you stare at the sheet of paper the quicker you’re losing your resolve.
TUTORING REQUEST FORM Student Name: Choi Seungcheol Degree: Undergraduate Major: Business Course: ECON04101 Introduction to Microeconomics Instructor: Lee Yeonseok, PhD. Recommended Tutoring: High (3-4 hours per week)
You curse under your breath. Of the two names on the paper, Dr. Lee’s does not come as a surprise. He’s a notorious hard-ass with an infamous attrition rate—most students don’t last more than a week in any of his classes—but he’s also the sole reason you were able to pay for someof your grad school tuition out of pocket with all the tutoring money you made.
That, however, was two years ago.
“Does he know I don’t tutor anymore?” Stupid question. The kid stares blankly back at you, as if to say I don’t know any more than the people in Student Services, let alone Dr. Lee. It is literally my first year here. “I’m Dr. Ahn’s TA this year. I’ve got my hands full with her bullsh… stuff—”
Immediately, you know you’ve said something wrong, because the kid’s eyes light up, all that previous anxiety disappearing like smoke. “Wait, the same Dr. Ahn that teaches the crypto course?”
“No, that one died,” you say quickly. Kid deflates. “Anyway, I don’t really tutor anymore, especially for econ. As you can see”—you gesture vaguely around the cramped four walls of your office—“they’ve upgraded me. They even put my name on a little placard by the door! Go look! They spelled it wrong! If that doesn’t sum up this university I don’t know what does.”
You heave another sigh. Try to school your face and tone into something that exudes professionalism and finality. “Look, I’m sorry I can’t help you. I tutored Dr. Lee’s students for, like, three years in undergrad so I’m sure they just… forgot that wasn’t my actual job here. Who’s in charge of tutoring these days? I’ll shoot them an email and explain all this.”
Freshman gives you a name, and it takes less than a second to find them in the employee directory. You expect that to be the end of it, but he’s still taking up space in your doorway. You quirk an eyebrow. “Yes?”
The hand-wringing returns, along with an embarrassed flush that disappears beneath the neckline of his school-branded sweatshirt. “I just—um. Maybe you could, uh. Send that now? Before I get back there?”
You blink. “Don’t you have to go all the way back across campus? How slow do you think I type?” He shrugs, and you give up on the idea of getting rid of him. “Fine. What’s your name, anyway?”
“Lee Chan. I’m a sophomore. Do you know that guy?”
“Oh. I thought for sure you were a freshman, but you’re gonna need to be more specific, Lee Chan, Sophomore.”
“The guy they want you to tutor.” You freeze. The guy they want you to tutor is—“Choi Seungcheol,” Chan tacks on, and, yeah, you know—knew, you correct yourself—someone with that name, once upon a time.
But there are a lot of Chois and a lot of Seungcheols. It’s been years since you’ve spoken to the Seungcheol you knew, and that was when he’d broken up with you to—“I heard he’s a football player? Well, used to be, I guess. The girls in the office were freaking out so I guess he’s pretty famous, but I don’t know anything about sports, do you? They said they have photocards of him. I thought they only did that for idols.”
You think about being kids together in Daegu. Think about the exasperated looks you’d share when your parents would drag the two of you to festivals: Palgongsan in the autumn, Biseulsan in the spring; transformation and rebirth. Think about being eight years old and watching your father cram into the small space of the Chois’ living room, standing around the TV with Seungcheol’s dad, shouting at Park Jonghwan. Daegu FC made the FA Cup quarterfinals that year, and you think, of everything, that’s what you’ll remember for the rest of your life.
You think about falling in love slowly. Sixteen and clueless, the pair of you were. Didn’t really know any different, just that you’d look at him and feel butterflies. That you’d hold hands in secret. Text beneath the dinner table. That you’d watch him on the football pitch and be consumed by pride. That the future felt impossibly far away, that life would never catch up to the two of you.
You think about all the football jargon you didn’t understand—the academies, the teams, the implications. You think about, I’m thinking about trying out for the FC Seoul U-18, I just don’t think there’s much more I can do here in Daegu. You think about replying, Oh, I applied to university there.
You remember thinking it must’ve been fate, how easy that had worked out. How easy that first hurdle had been overcome.
You think about how fast everything happened. The try-out, the acceptance, the explosion. Remember being unable to go anywhere those first few months without seeing Seungcheol’s face, touted as the next big thing. Think about applying for scholarships when he was applying for international visas. Think about studying for midterms when Seungcheol was studying English for interviews.
You think about the last few weeks of your relationship, when it felt like you were desperately trying to cling to ghosts. Think about how Seoul had once felt endlessly big, both in opportunity and size, and how it now felt suffocating. You think about, So you’re just giving up? Is that what you’re saying? Think about, I don’t know what else to do. It doesn’t feel fair to you.
You think about all the places you’ve watched him. On countless football pitches; shy glances in school hallways; in the passenger seat, wracked with nerves on the drive to Seoul; poised above you in bed, hairline dotted with sweat as he rolled his hips, telling you how much he loved you.
You think about watching him walk out the door, and how you never watched him again.
So you fire off your email, concise and to the point about why you can’t tutor Choi Seungcheol in Introduction to Microeconomics, and turn to Lee Chan, Sophomore.
“No,” you finally answer. “Never heard of him.”
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For all intents and purposes, your rejection should’ve been the end of it.
A few days go by. You hold office hours, attend lectures, work on your thesis when you have both the time and the energy. Try to ignore the feeling of bees beneath your skin, anxiety needling each time you check your email. You were well within your right to decline the tutoring request, but you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. That someone somehow knows who Seungcheol was to you and will pull you up on it. That those girls who’d gushed about him to Chan are somewhere laughing at your expense.
But you don’t hear anything at all about it… until you do.
Sunday evening. You haven’t moved from your couch in hours, some variety show playing in the background, barely audible over your keyboard clacking. Much to your detriment, you don’t write many papers these days, so you’re out of practice. Feels like you haven’t done anything besides formulas in years, all of your academic knowledge reduced to fucking math, so you’re about ready to toss your laptop out the window long before the email even comes through.
You see, From: Lee Yeonseok. You see, Subject: Choi Seungcheol - Tutoring.
Your stomach plummets to the floor.
You scan the body quickly. You see the words personal favor… friend of his father… urgent matter… and your hands start shaking. Whether it’s from the sheer audacity of this man or anxiety, you aren’t sure, but it’s not like it matters. There aren’t a whole lot of people on campus brave or dumb enough to go up against him twice.
“Motherfucker,” you spit, bitter the only taste in your mouth.
Where did you go wrong to wind up here? You’d followed the script: got the grades, passed the exams, received half of the required education for the Respectable Career, helped a few others along the way chase dreams that may or may not have been their own. You’d fallen in love. Only had a broken heart to show for it, but that’d been in the script, too: The First Love, followed by The First Heartbreak.
The split from Seungcheol was supposed to have been the end of that chapter. You’d planned on never seeing him again, and you never would have, had it been up to you. Apparently the universe has other plans, participation required.
“Did you spill onion dip on the rug again?” You startle, sending your laptop flying. Kaori, your roommate, is perched halfway in between the living room and the kitchen like a cryptid, clearly not expecting your reaction. “Oh. Were you watching porn?”
Face burning, you fetch your laptop from the floor. “In a common area? Kaori, please, I have far more decorum than that.”
She snorts, resuming her trek to the fridge. “See, that’s what I thought, but then I walked out here and you threw your laptop so fast it was like watching my ex get caught watching furry porn all over again.” She pries the lid off a large container of yogurt. “You think this is still good?”
“Dunno. What’s it smell like?”
She sniffs it and pulls it back to check the label. “Vanilla, I think, which is concerning because it’s supposed to be strawberry.”
You shrug. “What’s the worst that can happen, you get extra”—you pause, trying to remember the correct order of things, before giving up entirely—“...biotics?”
“Mm, so close. Care if I just eat this with a spoon?”
Nose scrunched, you wave her off. “Couldn’t pay me to eat yogurt on a good day, let alone if it’s expired. All yours, babe.”
Spoon in hand and a pleased smile on her face, Kaori collapses onto the couch beside you. You try to return your attention to your paper, try to find your momentum again, and it works for all of ten minutes before you’re groaning and slamming the top closed.
You don’t even need to look over to know Kaori’s staring. “What’s up with you?” she asks. Before she can answer: “Wait, is this serious? Because I can’t have a serious conversation in this t-shirt.” You steal a glance sideways. Ask Me About My Hemorrhoid! it says, and you exhale loudly. “Don’t breathe at me, I lost a bet.”
“And continued wearing it?”
She jokingly rolls her eyes. “God forbid a girl has hobbies.” Nudges you with her foot. “C’mon, spill.”
Kaori doesn’t know about you and Seungcheol. Most people don’t, aside from a few old classmates from Daegu who found you on social media and tried befriending you once he started making a name for himself in Seoul. After that, it was just easier to keep things private while you were together. New friends knew you were seeing someone but not their name or how long you’d been together. Any curiosity surrounding why the Choi Seungcheol was following you on Insta had been waved away easily. Our parents are friends, we grew up together. Then you broke up, and there wasn’t any evidence to delete, and he wasn’t following you on Instagram anymore, and it was easier that way.
So, yeah—even though you hadn’t met her until years later, Kaori knows you have an ex. She knows you’ve had a few flings and situationships in the time since, too, and it’s why she’s none the wiser when you ask, “It’s nothing, really. Just—do you follow football at all?”
“Nah, not really. The new guy’s pretty into it and keeps trying to get me to watch the games with him, but it’s so fucking boring? I dunno, I can’t get into it. Not in real life, anyway—I binged all of Captain Tsubasa in an embarrassingly short amount of time, though. Why?”
“Student Services asked me to tutor someone the other day and I had to turn it down. I just don’t have the time, you know? This semester’s already killer, and Dr. Ahn’s been riding my ass nonstop about grades. Turns out it’s some football player, so Dr. Lee emailed me asking me to do it as a personal favor, which means, on top of all the other shit I have to do, I’m now tutoring some football player four hours a week in Microeconomics.”
Her face distorts. “God, that guy’s such a prick. Like wow, you’re good at the economy! Good for you! Who cares! Why don’t you go balance the national debt or something instead of torturing university freshmen!”
You also wrongly assume that’s the last you’ll hear of it from Kaori.
Two days later, after Student Services replies to your email with the days and times you’ll be tutoring Seungcheol, she materializes in the living room to harass you.
“You didn’t tell me your football player was Choi Seungcheol.”
The panic is instant. You know how she means it, but it’s not how your body interprets it. All of a sudden it feels like an interrogation, an accusation, and a whopping serving of guilt takes up residence in the middle of your chest for not being entirely honest.
“Explains this weird text Ken sent me.”
She slides her phone over to you, open to her text thread with her current flavor of the week. Beneath an article about Seungcheol enrolling in classes at your school:
doesn’t ur roomie TA there Why are you calling her “ur roomie” like you don’t know her name?? Rude. Also yes. ask her to get me an autograph No babe pls he was my fav player before he got injured No 🙄 fine. can i come over later? Starting to think you’re using me for my roommate. Get your own job 🙄
You hand her phone back. “I didn’t think you’d know who Choi Seungcheol even is.” It’s the best you can do, even though it just digs you a deeper grave. “You said you’re not into football.”
“I’m not, but unfortunately I am into that stupid man.” She sighs, wistful and longing. “Babe, you have to understand. His dick is so big.”
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You hadn’t wanted to stay in Seoul for your graduate degree, let alone the same university you’d gone to for undergrad.
You’d applied to schools all over—Japan, Europe, even a few in the States. Romanticized the hell out of NYU, went window shopping for an overpriced apartment, picked a favorite pizzeria based on nothing but vibes and online reviews. In those few months after graduation, there wasn’t a whole lot tying you to Seoul. Your and Seungcheol’s relationship had been old history by then, your parents split. Your dad stayed in your childhood home and your mother moved a few hours closer to her sister. They’d waited until your brother was old enough to be out of the house.
And it’d just been… a lot. Overwhelming. Some days you could barely shower or feed yourself, let alone move halfway across the world, so you’d stayed in the familiar and tried not to let it feel like failure.
But the good thing about familiarity is you learn its tricks, figure out the hiding spots. Early on, your first or second week of grad school, you laid claim to a study room on a floor of the library everyone else ignored. You write notes on the whiteboard with faded blue markers that are still there days later. The chair on the opposite side of the table is always exactly where you left it, the space between it and the table enough to only accommodate you. Sometimes you leave books—old paperbacks littered with notes in your writing—or papers, just to see if they move.
They never do.
And all of this is why it feels like a punch to the gut when that sanctity is tainted. When you’re halfway through a stack of Dr. Ahn’s exams and the doorknob rattles behind you. When you don’t even need to turn around to know who it is, because he still sounds the same, still has that overwhelming presence. You’ve always sensed him before you felt him.
“There you are,” Dr. Lee says, ambling into the room before you can protest. He, too, is overwhelming, just in different ways. Immaculate posture that anchors his slight frame that’s always dressed impeccably and expensively. Wears a watch that’s triple your tuition. Shoes polished so bright they’re nearly blinding. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
This time it is an accusation.
Well, you found me, you want to say, but just knowing Seungcheol is behind him, lingering in that half-study room, half-hallway space, is enough to keep you quiet. Like if you speak you’ll summon him closer and you’ll no longer be able to pretend this is nothing more than a nightmare.
You plaster on a polite smile. Say, “Ah, here I am, kyosu-nim,” and put all your energy into trying to glue Seungcheol to the floor with your mind.
Which is fruitless, because Dr. Lee moves further into the room. Gestures for Seungcheol to follow him with an impatient huff, and the study room is small, sure, and with three people it feels cramped, but that’s not the reason it feels like all the air’s been sucked out of the room.
Seungcheol looks… different. He looks as anxious as you feel, and he sticks close to the wall like he’s trying to disappear. Dr. Lee introduces him with grave importance, unaware of your history, and the forced smile he offers you almost looks embarrassed.
You know Dr. Lee is still hammering away, probably giving you a stern talking-to for rejecting his request the first time, but you can’t tear your eyes away from Seungcheol. Feels like the world around you has reduced to a pinhead, all hyperfocus; feels like your lungs are sucking in stale air one at a time.
“...his father is a very good friend of mine, so I expect…”
You expected to feel nothing. Seungcheol had left to chase his dream—one you’d always been so supportive of that it sometimes felt like your dream, too—and, perhaps naively, you thought the distance and the years would’ve been enough. You expected your heart to have hardened. You expected all those nights you spent crying to hit you at full force. You expected anger, hurt—indifference, at the very least.
“...as many hours per week as you both can manage…”
But you should’ve known better. Should’ve expected the butterflies, the way your palms grow clammy, the way your heart rate spikes. Should’ve expected everything to feel upside-down. You should’ve expected to look at Seungcheol and feel sixteen and in love all over again.
“...you are responsible for his academic progress…”
And that simply will not do. You’ve spent the last few years pulling yourself out of that hole, clawing your way back to something resembling normal. You’ve purged the thought of him from your mind—let his scent fade from your sheets, an old sweatshirt he’d left behind; forgot the way his lips felt against every inch of your skin; forgot the way his entire being lit up when he laughed; forgot the safety he encompassed, the way he whispered all those sweet nothings.
You cannot go there again.
So you roll your shoulders back, smile politely. Say, “Ah, kyosu-nim, Choi Seungcheol-ssi seems very intelligent, I’m sure he is capable of being responsible for his own academic standing, don’t you think?”
Dr. Lee cannot disagree without all but calling Seungcheol an idiot, so he hovers before you in shocked silence. Makes a show of huffing and checking his watch, like he’s all of a sudden remembered he’s late for something and being inconvenienced by this conversation he started, and then he’s halfway out of the library with a terse, “Discuss and figure this out amongst yourselves,” thrown over his shoulder.
You have an entire dramatic exit planned in your head. Gather your things, fake a phone call that makes you sound authoritative and important, and brush past Seungcheol wearing your nicest perfume as if all of this is so far beneath you you can’t even bring yourself to care about it.
Of course, you actually have to brush by him for any of that to happen, and since you’ve already decided you will not go there again, you quickly scribble your email address onto a piece of paper and slide it across the table at Seungcheol, who has steadfastly remained planted just outside the door. “Here’s my email. I don’t have time to discuss this right now.” Seungcheol cocks an eyebrow. You start throwing things into your bag haphazardly. You know you look frantic and affected, but there’s not much you can do about that. “What? Send me a copy of your syllabus and what you want to prioritize. It’ll be easier to get through this if we have a plan instead of winging it.”
He seems to catch on to your distaste because he mirrors it. Scoffs as he rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah, no use spending more time together than we have to,” and if you hadn’t gone years without speaking, you would’ve seen right through it.
But you did, so it stings all the same.
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As it typically does, the planet keeps spinning after your run-in with Seungcheol.
You grade Dr. Ahn’s coursework. Try running off your anxiety at the gym, even though it’s pretty good at keeping pace with you these days. You meet Kaori’s maybe-boyfriend sneaking out of your apartment early in the morning and he has the good sense not to mention your ex, but you chalk that up to the mess of hickeys covering his neck and not any sense of social decorum.
Other people’s embarrassment saves you a ton of your own, you’ve come to learn.
Throughout all of this, Seungcheol only emails you once to send you his course syllabus. Doesn’t mention tutoring or provide you with his schedule or ask for yours, so when you’re sitting in a bar with your friends, three or four drinks deep and feeling a little petty, you forward him the original tutoring request and make sure to bold, underline, and highlight the “Recommended Tutoring: High” part for good measure.
He doesn’t take your bait—electronically, at least—but he does show up to your office hours the following Tuesday.
Bag tossed onto the floor, he flops unceremoniously into the chair across from you and says, in lieu of a greeting, “They spelled your name wrong. On the door thing.”
“I know,” you reply, your smile polite and terse. Incredible how he has the ability to raise your blood pressure in milliseconds. “What can I help you with?”
“Depends. How long do you have?”
“Well, considering you’ve shown up to my office hours on time, I’m assuming you already know I’m here every Tuesday and Thursday from four to six. So”—you glance at the clock above the door—“assuming no one comes by who needs my help more than you do, you have approximately one hour and fifty-eight minutes.”
Seungcheol is quiet for a moment as he takes you in. His stare is weighted; it makes you feel a little green around the edges. Clinical and sharp, so far removed from the way he used to look at you. You clear your throat. “I looked over your syllabus. The good news is there’s only a midterm and a final and the rest is problem sets. The bad news is there’s only a midterm and a final so they’re weighted quite heavily. You really need to know this stuff inside-out to have any hope of passing.”
“That’s why you’re here, right? Dr. Lee specifically requested you.”
You huff a breath through your nose. “I’m here as supplemental help. I can’t take your exams or do your readings for you. What else are you taking this semester?”
He sighs, sinking further into the chair, very much playing the part of the heir who has no interest in any of this. Which… is unlike him, you think, if you’re even allowed to. The Seungcheol you knew years ago took everything so seriously. Never clipped corners or took shortcuts. Anyone else would think him a spoiled, petulant child. “Business Accounting and International Trade.”
“Could be worse,” you note. “At least those three courses are tangentially related.”
Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t taken a fucking math class in years.”
You return it. “You remember how to add and subtract, don’t you?”
“I ruptured my ACL, not my…” He trails off, looking a little embarrassed that he can’t name a part of the—“Brain.”
Whatever you were going to quip back with dies on your tongue. It's the first time Seungcheol has broached the topic of his injury—the first you’re hearing of it at all, actually—and he says it like it’s a joke, like it’s not a thing at all, but the pain is all over his face. The bitterness of the situation he’s found himself in. The unfairness of it all.
And there are so many questions you want to ask that aren’t your place: if it’s fixable, if he’ll ever play again, how he’s coping. But you don’t really need to—you can’t imagine how you’d feel if someone suddenly pulled the rug out from under you. If everything contained within the four walls of your office suddenly disappeared.
Not that the man sitting across from you hadn’t already done that, but.
“Right,” you continue, as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You know Seungcheol—know he wouldn’t want you prodding, sticking your fingers in that particular wound. “I want you to take a look at this,” you say, handing over a printout you have saved from your undergrad tutoring days. “Tell me what looks familiar, what doesn’t; what does and doesn’t make sense.”
He looks down at the paper. Back up at you. Down at the paper again. “What the fuck is this?”
“I—what? Cheol, it’s my old notes on recitation. Surely you’ve already covered this—the syllabus says this is week one stuff.” He looks down at the paper again, and it’s so familiar, watching the life drain entirely from someone’s eyes.
You barely resist the urge to slam your face onto your desk a second time.
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You meet Seungcheol at the sports center for your next tutoring session.
He likes the humidity and the smell of the chlorine by the pool. He also likes that it’s not the football pitch, so the two of you sit in the bleachers there and go over his lecture notes. Much to your surprise, Seungcheol talks a mile a minute. Has stars in his eyes when he says he finally understands elastic demand curves, supply shock; tells you he spent a whole hour making flashcards.
It’s the first time you’ve seen him so excited since your tutoring began—the first glimmer of hope you’ve felt since Dr. Lee cornered you in your library hideaway. None of this surprises you. Seungcheol has always been smart, even when football was his primary (and sometimes only) focus. He has more determination and grit than anyone you’ve ever met, so you’re not surprised he’s doing well, excelling, but you are surprised—
“Can I ask you something?” Seungcheol shrugs, shoves half a protein bar in his mouth and swallows without chewing. “Why are you… uh. Here?”
“At this university?”
“Not exactly. I mean, I am wondering about that, but I guess… why business?”
Seungcheol hums. Tucks his good knee to his chest and stares down at the pool. No one’s using it, and truthfully the two of you probably aren’t even allowed to be here, but you understand why he likes it. It’s nowhere near as secluded as the library and definitely not as air conditioned, but it is peaceful. Calm. The water laps against the coping in quiet, small waves.
“Ah, I don’t know. You know how it goes.”
You quirk an eyebrow. Never, in all the years you’ve known him, has Seungcheol done anything he didn’t want to do. All that grit and determination. “What about your father, then? Dr. Lee mentioned this was a favor to him. He’s a pretty important person to have in your Rolodex of favors.”
Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see what this is: Seungcheol’s father has new money; worked from the bottom up, made some smart investment decisions that finally panned out after Seungcheol left for Seoul. Started doing his own thing, made a name for himself. Last you’d heard from your mother, Seungcheol’s brother was second-in-command. Hell, even your own brother did an internship there.
So you know what this is: a father helping his son after his dream was shattered, life turned upside-down. You can’t blame him, even if you’ve heard the whispers from all the way across campus. That Seungcheol is washed up now, trying to nepo his way into his father’s company because of it; that all he knows is sports and he should’ve stuck to that, what does he know about business, why is he the one Dr. Lee went out of his way to help.
Doesn’t stop any of them from smiling at him, though; doesn’t stop them from asking for autographs or selfies.
But you also know this isn’t something Seungcheol seems willing to discuss, so you crack a joke—“I mean, business. God, who’d wanna go into that?”—and go back to what he was willing to talk about.
You’ve never hated elastic demand curves so much in your life.
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Deep in the throes of tutoring—when you can’t tell if it’s week two or week twelve—you make it back to your apartment just before ten, head pounding.
The door flies open just as you’re about to punch in the code, and there stands Ken, looking far more put-off than you’ve ever seen him. Looks defeated, if you’re being honest, like someone mopped up all his emotions and wrung them out like dirty dishwater.
“Oh, hi,” you say hesitantly. The man in front of you seems too much like a caged animal to let your guard down. “Everything okay?”
He aborts a nod halfway. Mutters an apology as he brushes by you and stalks down the hall, disappearing around the corner to the elevators. Usually he’s a talker—you haven’t been able to avoid a Seungcheol-related conversation in weeks—so you’re a little stunned. Stand there stupidly for a while, and that’s where Kaori finds you a moment later.
“You gonna stand out here all night, or…?”
“Oh—yeah, right.”
You follow her inside. Toe off your shoes and put them in the rack. Focus on the sound of the kettle whistling instead of the overbearing tension in the room. Drop your bag off in your room, throw on a sweatshirt three sizes too big and a comfy pair of socks. Rummage through the fridge for leftovers, contemplate what mindless show you’ll watch as you eat, and you do not, under any circumstances, ask Kaori what happened.
You don’t have to. You knew what this was going to be the first time Ken spent the night—the way he looked mortified to be meeting you in the shared kitchen at seven a.m., wearing a look that begged you not to tell your roommate he was sneaking out.
I, uh, have an early class, he’d said. You know how it is.
Maybe you should’ve called him on it then. Issued a warning-but-not-really. She’ll get attached if you don’t tell her. She should know it’s different for you, if it is.
But you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t your place. Kaori wouldn’t want you in her business like that, so you stayed quiet, just nodded before watching him slip his shoes on and close the door behind him so quietly you wouldn’t have known he left at all if you hadn’t been looking. Gone, just like a ghost.
So, yeah, you know exactly why your roommate looks haunted.
“I’m a few episodes behind on this if you want to watch with me,” you offer, pointing at the television with the remote. It’s a lie—you’ve never watched this show a day in your life, which Kaori seems to know—but she contemplates it nonetheless. “Also, my mom mailed us some cookies. I think they’re in the fridge.”
“Why are there cookies in the fridge?”
You huff a laugh. “They were outside the door this morning before I left for campus. I don’t know—just saw who the package was from and was like, oh, this must go in the fridge.”
She nods. Grabs the container and joins you on the couch. Sticks her feet beneath your butt and doesn’t mention a thing.
The closest she comes is a few days later. Catches you right before you head out to campus and asks how tutoring is going.
“Not bad, actually.”
Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes when she says, “That’s good. I’m glad things are going well for you two.”
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Lee Chan, Sophomore makes his unexpected return at your office hours on an unsuspecting Tuesday.
“Can I help you?”
He doesn’t answer right away, just helps himself to the seat across from you. “Maybe,” comes his cryptic retort. “I was thinking about signing up for that crypto course next semester.”
You narrow your eyes. “No, you weren’t.”
He sighs. Looks a little panicked, like he can’t believe that didn’t work. “You’re right, you’re right. I, um—I wanted to come say thank you.” He pauses. “You know, for that… email you sent.”
You blink. “No, you didn’t.”
Lee Chan, Sophomore cracks immediately. Thunks his head on your desk and lets loose a pained sound. It nearly sounds like he’s wailing when he says, “I’m sorry! They put me up to it!”
What you’re able to piece together is this: Lee Chan, Sophomore has become a bit of a celebrity in the Student Services department ever since he met you, Choi Seungcheol’s tutor. And, like any smart, previously unpopular university student would do, he took advantage of it. Might’ve stretched the truth a little to make it sound like he knew more than he did, so now here he is, angling for information the girls with the photocards may or may not have paid him to get.
“They want to know about his girlfriend.”
“His what?”
What you’re able to piece together is also this: the Photocard Girls are certain Seungcheol is dating someone, based on little more than vibes. You suspect these vibes are their three degrees of separation, considering there was an abnormal amount of Change of Major files formed after his enrollment, but you tell Lee Chan that you don’t know anything and, even if you did, you wouldn’t put his business out there like that.
But some part of you still has this inexplicable urge to protect Seungcheol, so you match their offer with interest and tell him to say there’s nothing to report—not that you didn’t know, not that he couldn’t get anything out of you. Seungcheol isn’t dating anyone.
You don’t know if it’s true, but you figure that if it isn’t, he still deserves privacy.
Which is a notion you have trouble explaining a few hours later, when Seungcheol strolls into your office with a grease-stained paper bag full of cheese coin bread, offering one to you with a proud smile that drops slowly when you just stare in return.
“What’s wrong?”
Your mouth opens, closes, opens again. Nothing comes out, even though it should be simple. Some sophomore kid was just in here angling for information or the Student Services department is taking bets on whether or not you have a girlfriend would both suffice, but you cannot bring yourself to say the words.
What you settle on is, “Sorry, I just… had an interesting meeting before you got here.”
“Oh. Are you okay?”
You sigh. Tilt your head back to stare up at the ceiling. “It was about you, actually.”
Seungcheol chokes, starts stuttering over words you can’t make sense of. Says, “Me? Why? I passed my last exam—I mean, barely, but I still passed. And that wasn’t your fault! I didn’t study enough! I’ve been losing my mind over my International Trade class, that shit sucks—”
“It wasn’t about your grades, Cheol.”
“Oh.” Then, slowly, a lopsided, pleased smile overtakes his face. “Haven’t heard you call me Cheol in a while.”
“Seungcheol,” you correct.
He seems to forget all about the meeting. Tries again to offer you a coin bread before he threatens to eat them all himself, so you acquiesce mostly to shut him up, say you’ll bring the extras to Kaori. For some reason, you tell him about how much she’d loved the cookies your mom sent, and the nostalgia sets him off, gets him talking again, asking if they were the yakgwa she used to make when you two were kids.
They were, but you can’t seem to tell him that, either.
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Seungcheol: sorry it’s last minute - running late. can you meet me at my place instead?
Seungcheol shared a location with you
You’re halfway to replying—I don’t think that’s appropriate—before you sigh and delete it. Midterms are only a few days away and you don’t have time to argue over where your tutoring sessions will be, so if Seungcheol wants to meet at his apartment that’s where you’ll meet him.
You read over the midterm notes on the train. Once, twice, and then a hundred more times until they’re nearly memorized, all so you can ignore the voice in the back of your head saying what a bad idea this is. That you have no business being on your way to your ex’s swanky part of town or integrating yourself into his life beyond tutoring at all. You shouldn’t know where he lives. Maybe you shouldn’t even have his phone number or answer his texts.
Not that there’s much you can do about it now, two stops away.
Seungcheol greets you warmly, if not a little rushed. Apologizes for the mess once you step inside, although it’s less “mess” and more “haven’t finished unpacking,” but there’s enough clear space to study at the dining table, so that’s where you set up, determined to keep things professional.
“Sorry again about this,” Seungcheol says, placing a can of cola in front of you as he takes the seat across. “I had to meet with my father and lost track of time, I guess.”
“Oh. How’s he doing?”
Seungcheol sighs, leans further back in the chair as runs a hand through his hair. A light brown, now. “Same as he always was, I guess. Talked about the business, about my brother. Can’t get him to shut up about that stuff most of the time.”
“The business is doing good, though.” You cough, clear your throat. “My, uh. My brother interned there during undergrad. I don’t know if your father told you that.”
You don’t know why you say it, because it’s clear from the brief flicker of pain on Seungcheol’s face that he hadn’t known, that no one had told him. And it hurts you too that they felt the need to keep it a secret, to protect Seungcheol from you even in tangential ways.
“He didn’t,” he admits, “but I’m sure he was happy to see him. He was, uh—he was glad to hear you’re my tutor. Said you were always smarter than all of us boys combined.”
You laugh. Hope it sounds casual instead of strained. “Well, no need to prove him right. Come on,” you say, tossing a study guide in his direction, “let’s get to work.”
Everything is alright for a while—nearly an hour at least. He has the formulas memorized and attributed to the correct equations. He can explain supply and demand, preference and utility, but things start to fall apart around budget constraints and constrained choice.
The formulas get mixed up. He grows frustrated when he doesn’t know the answers to your questions right away. Rolls his eyes and gets a little snappy when you correct him, try to explain things differently in a way he understands. At first he’s able to temper it, collect himself before things truly start spiraling out of control, but the longer the two of you sit there the more it all unravels.
He snaps, you snap back, and you can’t figure out why. You’ve survived this long in Seungcheol’s orbit even though you never thought you’d be around him again, and perhaps it was bound to explode eventually, but…
It’s the familiarity, you realize.
You and Seungcheol aren’t friends, though you’ve been playing at it for weeks now: meeting outside of the library or your office, the personal conversations bordering on reminiscing, being in his personal space. You don’t belong here. You don’t want to be his friend—you can’t be, not for real or pretend.
“That’s not what I’m say—”
“Then explain it better,” Seungcheol fires at you, eyebrows creasing. “You’re the tutor here.”
You roll your eyes. “I’m trying, okay? All I meant was—your answer isn’t wrong, but I know Dr. Lee and he’s going to want more than that in a response.”
“Right—not good enough, like I said.”
“I’m just asking you to expand on your answer—”
“And I’m telling you that’s all I’ve got. I’m not like you, all right? I don’t have all this shit just floating around in my head all the time. I’m not smart, I barely have any idea what’s going on half the time, and you sitting here being condescending about it is doing fuck-all to help.”
You inhale sharply, taken aback at the hostility in his voice. Suggest calling it for the night, say neither of you will be productive if you keep going like this, and neither of you bother to apologize.
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So much of your relationship with Seungcheol was marred by clichés.
The two of you passing notes back and forth during class. You in the bleachers of all his games, screaming along to the team chants, waving a sign around with his name on it. Not realizing you had a crush on him at all until he liked someone else and it made your stomach hurt. Childhood friends turned lovers.
Another cliché: that it’s starting to feel like that all over again.
Seungcheol sits across from you in the library, econ textbook cracked in half in front of him as he pays no attention. Keeps grabbing his phone each time it vibrates across the table. Can’t fight the smile that forces its way onto his face when he reads whatever’s there.
Stupid, you think—both to do this and to think it’d play out any other way. Seungcheol left years ago. Probably lived ten lifetimes while he was away while you were here in this exact spot doing this exact thing. Barely lived half a life, just stuck your nose in textbooks and forced your way through.
“Cheol,” you say, trying to drag his attention back to the study guide. No use. He’s typing away, presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek as he responds. “Seungcheol,” you try again.
Also fruitless.
You have no claim here, you remind yourself—not to his time, not to him. He’s only here because someone else mandated it. You’re only here because someone else mandated it, but it stings all the same. Another reminder of what used to be, of what ended regardless of what you wanted. Another reminder that the role you used to play in his life is not the role you play now. That the space you used to take up created a vacancy, and eventually it was going to be filled.
And if this was anyone other than Seungcheol, if you were more emotionally evolved when it came to him, it wouldn’t gnaw at you as much. All of this would roll off your shoulders.
But it isn’t, and you’re not.
“If you’re not going to listen, then—”
“I am listening,” he interjects, but he’s not looking at you. Not looking at his textbook or his study guide. Keeps laughing and smiling at his phone, and it’s sick how bothered you are by it. That it feels like your stomach’s been turned inside-out with jealousy; with annoyance, because you don’t want to be here anyway, don’t want to do this anymore, and you’re wasting your time on someone who doesn’t appreciate it.
Perhaps he never did.
“What are we discussing, then?”
Still not looking up: “Consumer theory.”
You laugh—more a huff of air than anything, grin sardonically out of one corner of your mouth. Seungcheol sees none of it. “Wrong,” you answer, already expecting the way he shrugs it off. “I’m gonna skip ahead a few chapters, though. Consider it a freebie for your business class.”
It must be your tone that finally grabs his attention. Cutting, precise, purposeful. Seungcheol lowers his phone, quirks an eyebrow, wonders where this is going to go. It’s clear he’s pissed you off, that you’re itching for a fight. It’s clear the years of silence are finally coming to a head.
“Let’s talk about ROI. You know what that is?” You barely give him a second. “Return on investment. A performance measure used to evaluate the efficiency of an investment or compare the efficiency of several investments. So, let’s say I make one-hundred-thousand won on a ten-thousand won investment: my ROI is 90%. Are you following?”
He nods.
“Great, now let’s try something a bit more hypothetical.” You suck in a breath. “Let’s say I invest years of my adolescence into someone. A friend at first and then something more. Let’s say I played cheerleader, supported every hope and dream he had—went to every game, cheered him on, helped him practice his English. Held his hand and talked him down when the pressure felt overwhelming, when the only thing that felt inevitable was failure. Now, let’s say all I got in return was a stuttered, awkward apology as he dumped me and walked out the door. Let’s say that guy showed up again after years of silence just to once again waste my fucking time.”
The thing about pain is it’s not linear. What hurt five, ten years ago might not hurt today, but it might tomorrow; what hurt yesterday may never hurt again. The thing about pain is it lets you stick your head in the sand until it can’t anymore, and that’s where you are now: that window of time between Seungcheol walking out the door on the assumption you’d never see him again before he bulldozed his way back into your life has been slammed closed, locked up tight.
So you don’t even notice you’re crying until the room goes deathly silent and you can hear the drip drip drip of tears on paper. Until you watch Seungcheol’s hands flex and unflex in mid-air, stuck in that liminal space, wanting to reach out but knowing he has no right to. Until your chest aches so bad you’re sure you’re either about to break into stardust or cease to exist.
Until you say, “What, Choi Seungcheol, would you say my fucking return on investment was?” and he has nothing to say at all.
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Kaori invites you to a party.
Just something small to celebrate the end of midterms and a classmate’s birthday. Nothing out of control or raucous, not even the kind of thing that’d earn a second glance from campus security. I won’t even make fun of you if you leave before eleven, is how she sold it to you, in addition to a small amount of begging and bargaining and a powerful set of puppy-dog eyes.
After everything the two of you have been through, you find it hard to say no.
So here you are, nearly eleven o’clock on a Friday, a cup of cheap beer in hand. A friend of a friend of a friend is wailing into a karaoke machine and although your ears are bleeding, it does feel nice for that to be your greatest worry. You aren’t thinking about your classes or how you’ve been prioritizing everyone else’s academic success. You aren’t thinking about whatever’s going on between Kaori and Ken. You aren’t thinking about Seungcheol.
At least you aren’t, until he walks through the door.
You’re going to continue not thinking about him at all—not about the fact he’s alone or how good he looks in a simple black T-shirt that’s a little taut in the shoulders. You’re not going to think about the way the air shifts, like the universe knows he’s important and is willing to accommodate. You’re not going to think about how Kaori catches your eye across the room, recognizes him from all her internet searches, and the way she mouths oh my god he’s so beefy at you.
You’re not going to think about how guilty you feel that she doesn’t know, because if you do you’re certain it’ll take over.
You watch Seungcheol work the room; watch as he floats between conversations, as strangers fall over themselves at the sight of him. How eager everyone is to give him something and how reluctant he is to take them. You watch as he winds up in the same circle as Kaori and how she must mention you, oh, your tutor is my roommate, because there’s a question in return before he turns and meets your gaze.
You wonder why the distance between you feels more insurmountable now than ever before.
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Seungcheol finds you in your office.
It’s not a Tuesday or a Thursday, far later than four to six in the evening, but he doesn’t even bother knocking before he’s barreling in, stifling your space with his bad energy.
You haven’t seen him in nearly two weeks. Not since the party, if that even counts. Hasn’t bothered to reply to any of your texts or emails, and that was just fine by you, if that’s how he wanted to act, but it isn’t until he’s brooding on the other side of your desk that you realize you’re still aggrieved, too. Feels a little too familiar, him leaving you behind and in the dark.
So you don’t mean to—typically have much more professionalism than this—but when he tosses a stapled stack of papers with a barely-passing grade on your desk and says, “This is your fault,” the words come automatically and without forethought.
“Fuck off, Seungcheol.” It’s not your words that take him by surprise; more so the roll of your eyes, the accompanying huff. The impression that all of this is beneath you and nothing more than a mere annoyance. That however affected you were two weeks ago is not how affected you are anymore. “That’s what happens when you blow off your tutoring for two weeks because you’re a coward.”
He laughs, incredulous; unable to help the sound the tumbles out of his mouth. “I’m a—I’m a coward?”
“Yes,” you reply, tone giving away nothing. All he sees is feigned nonchalance despite the hurricane you feel brewing beneath the surface. “This,” you continue, pinching the corner of the paper between your fingertips and disposing of it in the trashcan beneath your desk, “is all on you, but do please let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to blame me for. I’m all ears.”
You don’t miss it: the way Seungcheol’s eyes grow wide at your ‘I’m all.’ The way he thinks you’re going to punctuate that sentence with yours, and it nearly has bile rising in your throat. Makes you want to scream, rip at your hair. If the last few months have taught you anything, it’s that you are still hopelessly in love with the man across from you—the man that continues to leave before he’s left, always at your expense.
So, yeah—Seungcheol is a coward, but only when it comes to you.
But he doesn’t look much like one now, gripping so hard at the edge of your desk that his knuckles have gone white, baseball cap pulled down low enough his eyes are barely visible. He’s always been overwhelming, always carried himself with an exaggerated arrogance even when it wasn’t warranted, always took everything so seriously, and maybe that’s why you’d thought he’d treat you the same way. Take you seriously. Wouldn’t just throw it all away on a maybe thing, and that’s why it's been years and you still aren’t over it.
Maybe Seungcheol is a coward, and maybe so are you.
Because not once since he’s been back have you been able to say what you mean. Can’t seem to tell him about the anger, the hurt, the heartbreak. Played it all off as petty nonchalance because you foolishly thought that would hurt him, that you’ve been reduced to simmering ash, no hope left for a fire.
“I could never blame you for a goddamn thing,” he says, voice so deep you could drown in it.
You so desperately want to know. You don’t want to know anything at all. You want Seungcheol to explain everything to you in detail and spoil the ending, but only if it’s guaranteed to be happy. Enduring another loss like the first time—you’re not sure you can take it. Not after you two have crossed paths like this, because you’ve never quite believed in fate but you think that has to mean something. That so much time and life had transpired and you two came back together.
Today, though, it doesn’t look like you’re going to get any answers.
Seungcheol straightens, looms at full height. Digs into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulls out a thumb drive. Wordlessly, he hands it over, and then he’s gone just as abruptly as he’d arrived.
Again.
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Kaori wants to spend the weekend moping, and you can’t come up with a good reason not to join her.
She doesn’t mention Ken once. Not when she’s sobbing over A Silent Voice and Toradora! after that. Not when she keeps glancing at her phone every couple minutes to see if she has any texts. Not when you—only halfway paying attention between grading and your own assignments—suggest ordering something for delivery, maybe that new burger place down the street you heard was good, and Kaori shuts it down so vehemently you can only assume it was Ken’s favorite place.
Kaori just cries over the man with the big dick she never expected to take so seriously, and not even your stonewalling makes her feel ashamed of it.
And there’s respectability in that kind of openness and vulnerability. At least whatever she’s feeling is honest; at least she can admit she’s sad. You think watching Kaori process her breakup might help you process yours too, years too late, so you suck in a breath and ask, “Can I tell you something or is now not a good time?”
Kaori looks over at you. Dabs a soggy tissue at her eyes. “Well, I guess it depends,” is her answer, and she doesn’t shy away from how waterlogged her voice sounds. “If you’re going to tell me you’re a Takasu and Kawashima shipper, maybe, but if it’s anything worse I’m not sure I could take it.”
“I—what? Who even are they?” She gives you a half-hearted thumbs up. You sigh in response, sink further into the couch. “It’s, uh.” Clear your throat. “Do you remember when we met sophomore year? At that party? And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything and you said, and I quote, why not, I have a sixth sense for this kind of thing and I know that guy will have a huge—”
She hides her face behind her hands. “Ew, god, yes I remember that. My dick whisperer era. How embarrassing.”
“Right. And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything because I’d just gotten out of something.”
“Not really by choice, if I remember correctly. I told you if it was quiet it should’ve been loud, and then you never talked about it again.”
You nod. “I—yeah, that sounds like something I would’ve said.” You suck in a deep breath. “Listen, this is probably gonna sound bad considering I did never talk about it again, but—”
“Hey,” Kaori says, nudging you with her foot. Meant to be comforting, somehow. “It’s okay. There’s a lot you don’t know about me, too… most of which I’m not sure you should, actually.”
A laugh forces its way out, gives you a nice reprieve from the anxiety of the conversation you’re about to have. The need to explain it all, the need for advice. Maybe it’s not her—or anyone else’s—business, but you think you’ve kept this to yourself long enough. You and Seungcheol loved each other, once, and it seems foolish that no one knows.
Maybe Kaori had been right. Maybe love should be shouted from the rooftops; exist out in the open. Maybe something hidden in the shadows can never thrive in the light, and you knew it back then, deep down, but now it seems so obvious.
You think back to a few days before the library. Think about how things didn’t feel good but they felt okay. Think about the frustrated crease between Seungcheol’s eyebrows as he stared down at his textbook and how all you’d wanted to do was smooth it. Think about how you’d rolled your lips and tried not to laugh; how you thought it’d take a miracle to help Seungcheol pass this class.
Think about: What is the difference between the short-run and the long-run from the perspective of production theory?
Think about the short-run of your and Seungcheol’s relationship—that you’d burned bright and fast, even though it’d felt like a million years. Hadn’t dared to consider the long-run because anything beyond that bubble felt impossible.
Think about: Which of the following is not a property of isoquants?
Think about the way Seungcheol’s eyes lit up when he knew the answer. That they’re always linear, he said, and you smiled at his enthusiasm, raised your hand to high-five him and dropped it when he hadn’t noticed.
You think about the explanation—isoquants can be linear when inputs are perfectly substitutable—and what those graphs look like. Downward sloping, left to right. Think about how the graphs change when the isoquants are perfect complements.
L-shaped. Less straight as the inputs become poorer substitutes.
You know what your and Seungcheol’s graph would’ve looked like back then.
So it’s easy, almost, to tell Kaori everything. You tell her about growing up in Daegu, about the smell of the azaleas at Biseulsan in the spring. You tell her about how your parents had befriended the neighbors, how they had a kid your age, that that kid was Seungcheol—yes, that Seungcheol.
She’s able to anticipate the rest from there, but you fill in the blanks of what she can’t: being sixteen and falling in love, holding hands, the clandestine notes. All those football matches and how your throat would be hoarse from cheering. How nauseous you’d felt applying to university in Seoul, how excited you were when Seungcheol said he was coming with you. That, after you arrived, it felt like you were living in fast-forward. Barely any time to breathe or adjust; no time to just be you and Seungcheol. You had to be a student, someone responsible; Seungcheol had to be a phenom.
“Could you feel it was going to happen?” Kaori asks, now sat ramrod straight, all her attention on you. “Like, did you know?”
“I don’t know,” you admit. “Maybe I did? It’s hard to say now, all this time later. I know things definitely felt different, like life was pulling us in opposite directions.” You laugh, bitterness coloring the edges. “You couldn’t go two blocks without seeing him on some billboard, and I was just… normal, you know? I wasn’t some rising star athlete like he was, I just went to my classes. How was I supposed to compete with something like that?”
Your roommate hums, leans back into the pillows as she stares up at the ceiling. “I don’t think you were. Maybe that’s why Seungcheol was worried—maybe he felt like you were losing your own identity feeling like you had to keep up.”
You want to push back, argue that you weren’t, that you didn’t, but the truth is that it’s possible. That the shadows created by Seungcheol’s dreams were so massive you wouldn’t be surprised if they unintentionally swallowed you up. “It still wasn’t his choice to make,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.
And Kaori already knows all about your hurt, listened as you explained it all and laid everything bare. So when she says, “Sometimes that’s just how it goes, though, babe,” it doesn’t feel condescending. “We do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time. You can say now it wasn’t Seungcheol’s choice to make, because it’s been almost five years and you’ve made a life for yourself separate from him. But the—god, this is gonna sound so patronizing, I am so sorry—but you guys were so young. No one has it all figured out at that age.”
She snorts, runs a hand through her messy hair. “Shit, I’m nearly halfway to thirty and I still don’t know anything.” Adopts a frown. “What do you want now? Do you want closure? Want to try to fix things and become friends?”
“I don’t know,” you admit, biting at a hangnail. “He actually, um. The other day when he stopped by my office, he left me a USB drive? And before you ask, no I did not already look at it.”
“A USB drive? Who does this guy think he is, James Bond?” A pause. “Are you gonna look at it, though?”
You do.
Not until the silver, midnight light creeps in through your bedroom curtains and you’ve stared at the ceiling long enough; waited long enough for texts that never came, for divine intervention to, well, intervene. It never did—fair enough—so you decide to take fate by the reins. Grab your laptop, instant headache from the screen, stick the drive into the port.
It takes a second for it to load, but when it does: dozens of videos, organized by date. Vlogs, by the look of them—some from before your breakup but the majority of them from after.
You’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this.
You click on the first one: a month and a half before both of you moved to Seoul. A fresh-faced Seungcheol appears on your screen, cheeks still round with adolescence. He’s in his room back in Daegu, can’t get the camera angle right. Nostalgia hits you like a ton of bricks as it pans to the side, to the wall behind his bed, and you see all his old posters. Mostly football players you couldn’t name, some girl group he used to love, a few movies. Just below them are some of the notes you’d written him in school, and they’re all you can focus on as he talks about how excited he is for the move.
The next: a few weeks after you’d started classes. By then, Seungcheol was well into the swing of things with Seoul FC. Already a big fish in a small pond, tryout offers from European teams starting to roll in. You can hear yourself in the background stressing over your first exam, wishing a generational curse upon your calculus professor. In the video, Seungcheol laughs, whispers like he’s telling the camera a secret as he talks about how nervous he is for his future. I don’t know why, he says, but it just feels like everything is about to change.
There’s a long pause between that one and the next. You understand why when you look at the date: three months after your breakup. Your hands hover uselessly above your keyboard. Whatever answers you’ve been looking for the last few years are probably in this video, but you can’t bring yourself to open it. Not right away, at least.
You click on a different one at random. Seungcheol’s somewhere in Europe, judging from the language on the signs behind him. Snow falls quietly—whenever he filmed this, it must’ve been early. No one else is around, and he cracks a joke that it’s a good thing, people would probably think he was crazy if they saw him. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going but he narrates the entire walk: points out a cafe he’s grown to love. The way to get to his practice stadium from where he’s standing. Pauses near a restaurant and laughs ruefully, shakes his head, says, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but one of my teammates set me up on a blind date here and I got stood up. You’d probably think that was funny.
(You do. It also makes your chest ache.)
One from two years ago: Seungcheol in a hotel room, clearly nervous. He raises his hand to wave at the camera and you can see the corners of his nails bitten raw. Dark circles beneath his eyes; cheekbones more pronounced than you’ve ever seen them. On the screen, Seungcheol sighs, rakes a hand through freshly-bleached hair. Sucks in a deep breath as he says, I’m so nervous. I’m so—so fucking nervous and I don’t. Fuck, I don’t know what to do. I want to call you because you always knew what to say but that’s so fucking selfish. God, we haven’t spoken in years, and it’s my—that’s my fault, I know, so I brought this all on myself. I just want to hear your voice.
Another from a week after that: the color’s returned to his face, and he’s recording from what looks like a penthouse apartment. Sleek, modern; a small white dog napping on the bed beside him. He smiles, looks like he got his teeth fixed, looks like he’s no longer carrying around the weight of the world. Talks endlessly and excitedly about some tournament. Talks so fast you can barely keep up. Talks around words tinged with languages you don’t understand.
Seungcheol wins a championship. Records a drunk vlog from the same night, hair soaked through with god-knows-what—water, champagne, you don’t know. But he looks radiant. Looks like the culmination of two decades of dreaming. He looks happy, free, at peace. He looks like the reason he let you go, why he had to go away.
You scroll to the bottom of the files. Pause at the last video, dated seven months before the term started.
“Hi,” he says, and you can immediately tell everything is all wrong. Seungcheol’s in the dark, face only visible enough to see the tears tracking on his cheeks. “This is going to be the last one of these I make. I don’t know if you, uh—I’m sure you aren’t paying attention to me—my career—anymore, but. I, um. I got hurt. Ruptured my ACL. They’re not sure I’ll…” A sob escapes him. Has you wanting to climb through the screen to hold him, thumb away his tears, tell him everything is going to be okay. “They don’t know if I’ll ever play again.”
Seungcheol no longer looks happy, free, at peace. “Maybe you’ll be happy to hear that,” he continues. “Maybe it’ll help you to know I threw away our relationship for nothing.”
Cut to black.
The sudden silence is deafening. Has you desperately clicking back to the video you’d skipped, the one from just after your breakup. Seungcheol looks the same in that one, too, like the life has been drained out of him.
I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s not like I’ll ever show these to you now, since I…
I’m sure I owe you an explanation. To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing, I just—things have been so hard, and I’m still trying to make sense of it all. I feel like my life went from zero to a hundred before I could even blink and now I’m scrambling. I didn’t think it was fair to—to drag you through that. Me being away, moving to an entirely different continent. I have faith we could do it, I just. I don’t know, baby, I don’t…
You deserve to have your own life. Be your own person. I’m so scared that the world will never see you for who you are—so beautiful and intelligent and kind. You don’t deserve to be reduced to my partner. And if you ever see this, I know you’re gonna roll your eyes. Probably call me a mean name because I took the choice away from you, because you think I’m trying to be selfless and heroic, and you’d be right. It’s not fair, and I wish I could tell you I’m sorry.
I wish I could just… pluck out my brain and give it to you, because even if it killed me to do it, at least it makes sense to me. And I don’t—I don’t want you to think I’m not hurting. I’ve been sick to my stomach since I left. I know I’m making a mistake, I know I am, I just—how do I do what I think is right in the long-run when it’s not what I want right now, or ever?
I don’t want to get over you. I don’t want you to get over me, and that’s how you know I’m not acting selflessly, because you should. I want you to always be happy, I just… wish it was with me.
So, I’m going to keep making these. I’m going to take you along for the ride, wherever it takes us, because you should be here but I can only hope you can one day understand why you’re not. I’m so—I’m so sorry, I don’t…
I’m sorry.
I love you.
You fall asleep and dream that you were the one meant to meet him at that restaurant.
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The first thing you do is make a call to your mother.
“Could you send another container of yakgwa?”
On the other end of the line, your mother tuts, motherly intuition audibly kicking into overdrive. Is probably wearing that all-knowing, sly grin she always does when you try to be coy and evasive. “What happened to the last container I sent?”
“Ah, you know Kaori loves those. They barely lasted an hour after I told her what was in there.”
She hums an acknowledgement. Sounds like she takes a sip of tea. “I remember someone else being quite fond of those cookies, too.”
“Well, they are the most popular cookies in the country, so.”
After haranguing you into admitting they’re for Seungcheol and not your roommate, your mother promises to send them quickly. A few days at most, which buys you enough time to figure out how you’re going to approach the man in question.
The vlogs have turned your entire world upside-down. Answered questions you hadn’t even known you had. Took all that anger and resentment you’d been holding onto and set it free, and now you’re just left with… a void. Want to mend things, and it makes you wonder if such a thing is even possible, if it’s too late, but you don’t let those thoughts get very far.
Instead, you let them spur you into action. Have you sitting in front of your laptop at your desk, office hours long since over, silence creeping in the more the department empties. The thrum of the airconditioning and the tick-tick-tick of the clock are all the only company you have.
You worry if it’ll show on camera, how out of sorts you feel: sweating from the nerves, dabbing at your hairline; cheeks warm to the touch. But you suck in a breath anyway, steel yourself. Look at your webcam and the daunting red circle…
And start recording.
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He hadn’t gotten it at first. Not really.
There’d been a container of yakgwa outside his door with his USB drive taped to the top of it. No note—not that he needed one to know who it was from, but he wasn’t sure what it was. A goodbye? A please fuck off forever and never contact me again?
He’d just taken them inside. Ate too many of the cookies while feeling sorry for himself. Maybe had a glass or two of wine to compound the issue, and never, ever considered contacting you. Didn’t think he could bear it if you never wanted to see him again, but he just…
Well, he was drunk and alone and he missed you, and he’d rewatched all those videos he recorded a million times before when he was like this, so what was a million and one?
It’d been the same as every time before: he smiled at the happy parts, cried at all his old wounds. Wanted to reach through the screen and strangle his past self for including that part about the blind date, because he never wanted to date anyone who wasn’t you, why would he say that, felt mortified at the thought of you watching that—
And then there it was.
All the way at the bottom. A new video. One that hadn’t been recorded by him—
Hi, Cheol, you say, and that’s all it takes to reduce him to a sobbing, yearning mess. I’m not sure what to say here. I don’t really record much—sometimes for lectures when the professors are too busy, but never anything personal like this, but I watched every single one you made for me and I thought I should return the favor.
I wanted to tell you everything I’ve been up to since you left, but it hasn’t been much. I got my degree. Tutored a lot in undergrad—the same thing I’m tutoring you in now, actually. I was good at it and it felt good to have something that was mine, you know? I almost moved for grad school. Thought for a while I was going to wind up in New York, but then my parents divorced and it felt like too much, too scary, so I stayed. Kaori also stayed, so we got an apartment together. It’s not much, definitely not as nice as your place, but it’s good enough.
I don’t think I ever told you, but she was seeing a guy for a bit and he was… obsessed with you, to say the least. Thought you were the coolest person in the world. They aren’t seeing each other anymore. Ended pretty badly, but—speaking of which, maybe steer clear of Student Services for a while, too.
Sometimes it felt like failure that I wound up staying here. That I had scholarships from all these far-away, prestigious places and didn’t take advantage of them. That I gave into my fear. And now… I don’t know. Maybe there’s a reason I stayed behind. Maybe there’s a reason you ended up back here, too.
Whatever happens—I don’t want you to think I still blame you. Kaori says we do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time, and I understand now that’s what you did. Even though it hurt me, you were trying to protect me. I get it now. And I’m sorry you had to go through all of that alone. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been to go to all these places you didn’t know. To have to deal with your injury, the loss of a dream.
You said in one of your videos that you just want me to be happy, and that’s all I want for you, too, whatever that looks like.
Here’s my address if you ever want to come by to talk.
I love you, too.
—and then he’d been up and out the door, feeling stone cold sober, running to the front of his building to wait for his ride.
Felt like the drive took hours. Must’ve hit every red light between his apartment and yours. Took the steps two at a time just to get to your door faster.
There’s a man already standing outside your door when he gets there. One that looks shocked to see him, stars in his eyes, and when Seungcheol says, “Oh, you must be Kaori’s ex,” he looks more like he wants the earth to swallow him whole. Embarrassed in front of his idol.
He knocks on your door and gets no response. Knocks again, harder this time, and he has to try really hard to stifle his laughter when your voice yells from the inside, “Fuck off, Kenji, I already told you she’s not here!”
“It’s me,” Seungcheol yells back.
There’s quiet again. Just enough time for it to feel like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest and follow Kaori’s ex down the hall.
Then you’re yanking the door open—slowly, so slowly, like you’re scared it’s not actually him. Your eyes are brimming with tears when they meet his own, and he doesn’t let himself think, just goes on instinct, when he grabs for you, hands on your cheeks, and presses his lips to yours.
Somehow you taste the same.
Somehow you taste like redemption.
You taste like home.
Seungcheol kisses you until the tears slow. Kisses you until the universe realigns, until he could map your mouth in the dark. Kisses you until all you’re all he knows again.
When he pulls away, you’re gripping at his sweatshirt, don’t want to let him go. He presses his forehead to yours, offers up a million more apologies, starts talking nonsense. Says he’s going to drop microeconomics, what the hell does he know, he barely has a passing grade anyway, what does it matter, he’s such an idiot—
And then you say, “You came back,” and nothing else matters.
“I always will.”
(Later on, as you’re trying to steady your breathing, slick with sweat, your thigh thrown over Seungcheol’s hip as he stares down at you, dopey smile on his face, you say, “Choi Seungcheol, don’t you dare drop that class. I have worked my ass off to get you to barely-passing.”)
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if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for reading! i am still very new at writing for seventeen, so i hope this was acceptable. i'm now going to throw myself into the warped tour vernon fic and will hopefully not go another 7+ months without posting anything. 😭
i would love to hear your thoughts! <3
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sluttywoozi · 15 days
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(Boy)Friend Material | Part I of II | csc x f!reader
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You'd think that, having matched with Seungcheol on a dating app, you would be, well, dating. You suppose you're lucky, but not that lucky.
Rating: sfw (this part) | WC: ~3k | Pairing: csc x f!reader | Genre: emotional fluff, friends/idiots to lovers
Warnings: suggestive thoughts, down bad reader, implied alcohol drinking, kissing
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Matching with Seungcheol on Bumble was a fluke, or maybe a miracle, considering the fact that you re-downloaded the app on a whim and his profile was the first to come up. 
The second you saw him in that blue baseball cap and white tee, his jawline sharp and his bicep thick, you knew there was no point in trying to find anyone better. So you conferred with the group chat to crowdsource a good opening line, something about how his birthday should be a national holiday, and awaited his response with bated breath. 
He replied within minutes, saying that he’d always thought so but was intrigued as to why you did too, and you, ignoring your friends’ advice to play it cool, told him that he was obviously a gift to the masses to get them through these troubling times. He got bashful then, but apparently you didn’t come on too strong in a bad way, because the next thing you knew he was asking for your number and requesting to meet up for some coffee. 
That was four months ago, and though it never went further in a romantic sense, you know you’re lucky to have him as a friend. Unfortunately, the thoughts you have about Seungcheol aren’t the kind you’re supposed to have about a friend. 
You wish you could say you haven’t always wondered what those plush lips would feel like on yours, or if he’d be big enough to stretch you out, or whether he’d take you gently or pin you down and fuck you like he means it, but you’ve wanted Seungcheol ever since you first locked eyes with him, even if it was just through your phone screen.
It would be one thing if you only wanted to sleep with him, but it’s a million times worse because you want to love him too. You want to hold hands, and go on cute dates, and get him little gifts just to see his eyes light up. You want to fall asleep in his arms, and take care of him when he’s sick, and tell anyone who will listen that he’s your boyfriend. 
How could you want anything less when he looks like all of your dreams come to life? When he gazes at you with those big brown eyes, always listening so attentively, as if you’re the only one in his world that matters? When he takes care of you without thinking, like it’s just second nature?
Even at a house party like this, where there are plenty of girls eyeing him and more than a few of his bros wanting to talk to him, he’s by your side. The second your shoulders twitched in a shiver, his jacket was covering them. As soon as your cup was empty, he was accompanying you to the kitchen to refill it. And you know that when you give even a hint of wanting to leave, he’ll be guiding you to his car and taking you home, perfectly sober because he volunteered to be the designated driver tonight just so you could have fun and be safe. 
If only you could tell him to take you back to his place instead of yours. The problem is that he would, and he’d take your makeup off all gently, and give you a big t-shirt to sleep in, and tuck you into his bed before going to sleep on the couch, even though it hurts his back and his feet dangle off the edge. You know because that’s exactly what he did the time you managed to scrape together enough courage to ask if you could stay over after a night out. 
You can’t have a repeat of that, not when you woke up wishing you were his (after dreaming that he’d fucked you into his mattress). You barely kept yourself from begging him to make your dreams a reality that morning, especially when he greeted you with bedhead, a gravelly voice, and your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street. 
It took you weeks to get over it, to be able to look into his eyes without wanting to either confess your love or jump his bones. And still, almost two months later, you’re pushing down both of those desires. Holding your feelings back when you’re with him is a constant struggle, one that’s only made more difficult by his affectionate and protective nature. It’s becoming painful, knowing he likes you but not in the way that you like him, being so close to him but never as close as you want. 
Near Seungcheol is your favorite place to be, but you’re starting to think it’s not somewhere that’s good for you, which is distressing because at this point, he’s one of your best friends. You see him nearly every week for meals and little excursions, and you’d go for every day if you didn’t have to keep him from your other friends lest they give away your secret. You don’t know how you’d cope with not being around him, but you can only assume it wouldn’t be well when he’s so enmeshed in your life, even your landlord knows about him.
God, you cancel one maintenance call after Seungcheol fixes your leaky faucet and Jerry thinks every other repair request is bullshit…
You startle as Seungcheol leans in close to ask you something, though you’re too distracted by the weight of his hand on your waist to process his question. It’s warm even through the cotton of your shirt and the denim of his jacket, and he must think it’s too loud for you to hear him because he uses it to tug you closer as he asks again, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I think I’m just ready to go,” you respond weakly, forcing a smile that must look as fake as it feels. Knowing you’re not telling the truth about the first part, he frowns reproachfully at you and lets go of your waist to intertwine your fingers with his, pulling you behind him to the front door. There’s a chill in the air though it’s barely September, and he drops your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders, syncing his steps to yours and holding you tight.
It’s a short walk but the quiet tension makes it feel like eons have passed by the time you arrive at his sedan. He opens the passenger-side door for you and takes your bag so you can climb in unhindered, gently placing it at your feet before patting your knee and shutting you in. You watch as he jogs around the hood and gets in next to you, taking care not to slam his door. You wonder if it’s because the first (and only) time he did on a night like this, you thought he was upset with you for wanting to leave early. 
He was so sweet and concerned when you brought it up, instantly rejecting your offer to uber home so he could go back to the party as if he was offended you even asked, before telling you that there was no point in staying if he didn’t have you with him. That was just one of the many moments that have ruined you for anyone else. 
“What’s on your mind?” Seungcheol asks quietly, turning his body toward you and reaching for your hand. Unsure of what to say, you give it to him silently and fight back a shudder at the feeling of his warm, rough fingers against yours. 
You hate lying to Seungcheol, partially because you always want to be honest with him but mostly because you’re so bad at doing the opposite. He picks up on it immediately, and then he gets this sorrowful, wounded look on his face and goes all quiet, which makes you feel like you’re the worst person on the planet. 
How honest can you be, though?
You could leave out the part about wanting him to fuck your brains out and lead with the non-platonic feelings you hold for him. Or you could leave out the emotional side of things and simply share that you want to ride him into the sunset. Or you could tell him everything, bare your soul and your pussy, and hope for the best. But what if the worst happens? What if he tells you he could never want you like that, that you’re like a sister to him, that he doesn’t want to see you ever again because you’ve ruined this friendship? 
You don’t think you can risk it. 
Still, you’d like to avoid deceiving him and hurting his feelings in the process, so maybe you could just be vague instead. 
“A lot of things, but nothing I want to talk about right now,” you finally answer, avoiding his eyes and pushing down the voice in the back of your mind that screams you’re a coward.
His mouth scrunches to the side and his brows furrow, but after a minute of silence, he accepts it. 
“Okay, just… You know you can tell me anything, right?” He lowers his head to find your gaze, sincerity emanating so brightly from him, it burns. 
Anything but this.
“I know,” you whisper, attempting a smile to appease him, though the way he sighs defeatedly and looks away makes you feel like you’ve just made him worry more. 
Facing the wheel again, he turns the key in the ignition and carefully reverses just enough to pull forward out of his makeshift parking spot. The music coming through his speakers is soft and low, too quiet to really fill the silence sitting between you and him, silence that isn’t usually there. You don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything at all, your body thrumming with a nervous energy that you’re sure Seungcheol can feel. 
Glancing over, you find his hands tight on the steering wheel and his lip caught in between his teeth. You hate the idea that your anxiety has seeped into him, but he’s always seemed to think your happiness is his personal responsibility, so you suppose it makes sense. 
“Are you taking the long way?” You ask in confusion when you face forward again and watch the on ramp to the highway pass you by. 
“Yeah, I hope that’s okay… Just wanted a bit more time with you,” he murmurs with a melancholy tinge to his voice. 
“Of course that’s okay, I love being with you.” Shit, you wanted to make him feel better but you didn’t mean to sound so-
“Do you?” 
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you never…” He looks over at you and shakes his head, taking a deep breath before continuing to speak. “I know we’re taking things slow but I feel like you’re always holding part of yourself back from me. You never touch me, I’m always the one touching you. I make the majority of our plans. All my friends know you but I don’t know any of your friends,” he sighs in frustration and pulls over into an empty parking lot, putting the car in park. “And now tonight you don’t feel like you can tell me what’s wrong… I just- If you want to break things off, please just say so.”
When he finishes, he gazes at you, dejection swimming in his eyes like you’re breaking his heart. 
In your mind, you repeat the words that stand out to you as if they’re new arrangements of letters with meanings you’ve never encountered before.
T a k i n g  t h i n g s  s l o w.
B r e a k  t h i n g s  o f f.
What  t h i n g s?
“Seungcheol… Please don’t get upset, but I think we might not be on the same page,” you say slowly. “What are we? Because I was under the impression we were-”
“Friends,” you finish just as he responds, like it should be obvious, “Together.”
“You think we’re just friends?! We met on a dating app,” he bursts in a barely contained explosion. 
“You’re so hot, and sure, we went on that one coffee date, but we never went on any others-” You scramble to explain your reasoning. 
“We’ve gone on at least three dates a month since we met! Did you think we were just hanging out?” 
“...Yes?” 
“I plan them, I dress nicely, I pick you up, I pay,” he lists off on his fingers, clearly growing heated. 
“Okay, so maybe those were dates! But we don’t kiss, or have sleepovers, or talk to each other about our feelings,” you attempt to defend yourself. 
“I was trying to follow your lead,” he grimaces regretfully and pinches the bridge of his nose. “God, could I have been kissing you this whole time?” 
“You could have been doing a lot more than kissing me,” you laugh to yourself, thinking about all the wishes and desires you’ve had since you first laid eyes on him. Then you see his face, and it doesn’t really feel funny anymore. 
He looks equal parts irate and amorous, that strong brow furrowed in displeasure though his gaze is greedy, like he’s had enough of you but at the same time, he could never get enough of you. 
“Alright, since I apparently need to lay it all out, here’s what we’re gonna do,” he turns to face you, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. You barely resist the urge to lean into it before realizing you don’t have to resist anything anymore when it comes to Seungcheol, your hand coming up to cover his and hold it to your face. 
His eyes soften at that, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as he says, “First, we’re going to talk about our feelings and get on the same page. Then, I’m taking you to your place to pack an overnight bag and to mine for a sleepover, and this time I’m not staying on that goddamn couch. It’ll take a while to make up for four months of not kissing you, but we can start with tonight. Does that all sound good to you?”
“Everything sounds great,” you breathe dreamily, already envisioning being on your back beneath him with those perfect cherry lips on yours. 
“Fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he groans, his head falling sideways against the headrest. “We have to talk first.”
“Are you telling me or yourself?” You ask teasingly, giggling when he squeezes his eyes shut and swears under his breath. 
“Both,” he sighs out before saying nervously, “I’ll start, because I’m a good boyfriend.”
You have to swallow down the squeal that threatens to burst from you just at the thought of Seungcheol being your boyfriend. 
“I’ve been into you since I met you,” he begins. “You make me laugh, you make my heart race, and you make me want you, all the damn time. The past four months have been the best of my life. You’re smart and beautiful and special and I want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me.”
Hearing Seungcheol say these things sends a rush of pure joy through you, followed by a flood of affection. He’s all you’ve wanted for four months, and now you know he likes you. And wants to be with you. It’s almost too much for you to handle… Almost. 
“Seungcheol, as soon as I saw you on that god-forsaken app, I knew I could stop looking. You’re funny and kind and thoughtful and devastatingly good looking, and I liked you so much that I tried to be happy just being your friend, but I always wanted more. I think it’s because I was so blinded by my crush on you that I didn’t realize we were more. We are more. Hopefully, you’re okay being with me for a long time, because I don’t know if I’ll ever want to let you go.”
He gazes at you, his face soft and his eyes earnest, adoring. “That’s fine with me,” he murmurs, leaning in. “Can I kiss you?”
“I literally thought you’d never ask,” you whisper, inching forward and holding your breath until his lips finally meet yours. 
They feel supple, lush, just like you knew they would, and he kisses you with a gentleness you didn’t expect. After four months of waiting, you thought he’d be impatient, rough, but he’s moving like he has all the time in the world, like you’re something worth savoring. He pulls away reluctantly, but you’re not done yet, your chin tilting so you can press your lips to his again. 
He sighs against you and you glide your tongue over his bottom lip, gasping when he opens his mouth to lick into yours. His hand shifts to cup your neck, tilting your head so he can kiss you at a different angle, and that’s when the moan slips out. 
It’s quiet, but obvious in the silence of the car, and you pause self consciously for a second before he brushes his thumb over your jaw and moans back. The sound is so hot that you’re inches away from unbuckling your seatbelt and climbing over the center console into his lap, your mind already wrapped up in thoughts of feeling his thick, sturdy thighs under you. He doesn’t let you get that far, breaking away with a gasp and staring at you heatedly, as if he can hear your thoughts. 
“I want too much from you for our first time to be in my car,” he pants raggedly, fighting to catch his breath after you attempted to steal it from him. 
“I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you acquiesce, watching as he shifts into drive and makes his way out of the parking lot. When he’s on the road again, he rests his palm on your thigh with a glance and a raise of his brow, as if to ask if his placement is okay. You just smile and intertwine your fingers with his, trying to shove down the giddiness bubbling up within you as you get closer and closer to your apartment.
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AN: there was a natural separation between scenes so i decided to make this a two parter!! smutty part two will be posted sometime this weekend (hopefully)
please i am begging u to tell me ur thoughts and ur thots i am deep in seungcheol brainrot and i need to commiserate
edited to add: drop a comment to join the taglist!
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hannieehaee · 10 months
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TOO MUCH
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18+ / mdi
summary: after a few weeks of constant overtime work slouching over a desk, you feel as if your back is about to give out on you. fortunately for you, your best friend seungcheol is a professional masseuse! unfortunately for you, you're unsure of how you'll keep your crush on your best friend at bay while on his massage bed, ass up and oiled up.
content: masseuse!seungcheol, friends to lovers, pining (act surprised), touch-starved reader, inexperienced reader, very uninformed view of what being a masseuse is like oops, afab reader, smut, fingering, oil is involved, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 7.9k
a/n: as someone who's had horrible back pain ever since i was a child, this is based on mostly real events </3 also not 100% proofread
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support me through a one-time tip! <3
Your back was killing you.
It had been weeks since you'd gotten some proper rest, having made the terrible decision to take on some overtime at work, not knowing that your supervisor would get so used to the extra help she would continue to schedule you more hours week after week, thus destroying your back in the process. You knew that you could simply say no, but the extra money was helpful. You had wanted to start saving up a little more so you could finally move out of your shitty neighborhood, so the situation kind of worked out. The money would also go to paying your student loans, meaning you really couldn't miss this chance for an increase in income. It was kind of a win-win situation, except your poor back was the sole loser.
Your job didn't involve too much movement, no. It was mostly office work, which required you to sit on your hunched back for 10 hours per day, only allotting yourself for three quick 15-minute breaks and a 30 lunch break in which you would still be hunched over as you ate. You knew it was a bad habit, but sitting there for so many hours, you'd forget to sit up straight as you looked into the computer screen, and even if you fixed your posture while working, your back was just not built for standing still for such long periods of time. There was really no saving your back from its stiff fate at this point. These work hours also didn't allow you time to even work out or stretch in order to keep your body at least a little active and maybe prevent your pain a tiny bit.
Your best friend Seungcheol constantly scolded you over your bad posture. It wasn't like you actually had bad posture, okay? You weren't constantly hunched over, nor were you carrying all your weight on your shoulders. This was a recent development resulting directly from your increased work hours. But Seungcheol, being a masseuse, always noticed the slightest changes in your physique, claiming he could spot a sore back from a mile away, with yours being a very obvious case. He could notice your head standing a little lower, digging into your shoulders more and more as the days went by. He also took notice of your constant wincing and your futile attempts at rubbing your own shoulders whenever the soreness got too annoying.
He pitied you, really. He hated seeing you in pain. Being your best friend, he felt it as his duty to try and relieve it in any way he could. On top of having most of your free time being taken over by work, he hated to think that you were also in pain during the few hours you spent away from the office. He had communicated all these concerns to you over the past few weeks, trying to convince you to let him give you a massage in order to relieve the pain, but you'd consistently refused. He was unsure as to why, and being denied a proper reason made him want to keep on insisting until you finally allowed him to rid you of your discomfort.
"One massage won't fix my issues," you'd argued over and over again. To which he simply responded by saying he could just give you a standing appointment every week! He was very insistent on helping you, wanting to relieve you of at least some of the pain. But you were even more insistent in denying him. You were too busy to use up the little bit of free time you had going to the spa Seungcheol worked at. You also didn't think a massage would really be the ultimate solution, despite how badly your sore shoulders begged for relief. Yeah, sure, a massage might alleviate the pain for a bit, but it would simply come back after another week at the office. That, and the fact that the spa Seungcheol worked at was only open during your work hours, meaning you'd have to either haul ass over there during your thirty minute lunch, or take time off. Both were huge no's to you. There were just far too many reasons as to why not take him up on his offer, you argued both to him and yourself. But you knew these were simply excuses. Your main reason had been something you'd kept deep within yourself. You were starving for his touch, but scared of how your body would react to it.
You were generally an averagely touchy person with friends and family. Not overly touchy, but arguably an appropriate amount. It had only been a little over a year or so since you'd begun to feel a bit strange at the lack of intimate touch you'd experienced thus far in your life. While all your friends had experimented and had fun during college, you were a little shier and more reserved, rendering you a bit behind the rest of the herd in that area. It wasn't very noticeable to all. It wasn't like your friends were aware about how sexually frustrated you'd grown over the years due to your lack of experience, but you'd still tried to keep it a secret how unaccustomed you were to more intimate forms of physical touch. Even something as innocent as a massage from a friend. You'd be as touchy as any friend would expect, but still felt a slightly strange sensation when it came to any mention of more intimate activities. You'd somehow grown used to a lack of touch, despite being best friends with the touchiest person alive. You usually avoided being too physically affectionate with Seuncheol anyways, having harbored a small crush on him when you'd first met and wanting to avoid any of your emotions getting in the way of a friendship you treasured so much. You'd known that a massage from the man would be a huge nono, all things considered, which was where all your denials stemmed from.
You had been friends with Seungcheol since college. You had both shared a major, meaning that you kept bumping into each other day after day, attending almost all the same classes freshman year. You had taken a quick liking to each other, befriending one another almost immediately. Despite having had a crush on the man at first sight, you were content with the friendship that had blossomed instead. You'd even ended up joining Seungcheol's little friend group, being friends with most of them even to this day. This unexpected closeness during your first year led you to coordinate your schedules the following three years, thus seeing each other literally every day you were on campus. Even now, having recently graduated college, you were still best friends, meeting up constantly. Despite sharing a major, you both had ended up in drastically different places after college. You had gone for the corporate route while Seungcheol suddenly developed a passion for physical therapy, eventually becoming a massage therapist. At the time, however, he worked at a luxury spa downtown, being known as one of their best masseuses and singlehandedly earning the establishment an increase from a four-star rating to five stars just from the quality of his work alone.
You had visited Seungcheol's work before, quickly deciding it just wasn't your vibe. The place was nice and perfectly polished, but upon seeing a few of the masseuses' skills in action, you realized it'd be better for your friendship if you avoided such intimate contact with one another. Yes, you knew massages were not inherently intimate, but being oiled up and felt up by someone who was as close to you as Seungcheol just didn't ring like a good idea to you. It also didn't help that the massive crush you had on the man in college seemed to be resurfacing as of late. You believed to have gotten over it a few months into senior year, but you didn't want to risk reviving it under any circumstances.
However, despite your constant rejections, Seungcheol continued to beg you to let him take care of your problem, and denying him was something that pained both you and your back. So you now found yourself with two issues; back pain, and a very pouty Seungcheol.
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"Fuck, my back is killing me," you repeated for the millionth time in the past five hours since you had woken up. You had intended to enjoy your rare day off, even waking up a little earlier than intended so you could make plans with your roommates, but your plans quickly died on you as soon as you woke up, body stiff as a rock and your soreness worse than ever.
"We get it! You're in pain. So go do something about it!", whined your friend Seungkwan in return, not even bothering to look at you from his phone, "It's bad enough I had to cancel my plans to stay here and take care of you. Just go get oiled up by Cheol and stop making this my problem!"
If there was anything Seungkwan was, it was direct. He was right. Your pain was getting out of hand. And the longer you waited, the worse it would get. Except he didn't know about your calamity to its full extent.
"Listen, I don't even have the money to afford his fancy spa. Have you been there? One day is worth a whole day's pay!"
"Please. It's Seungcheol. He'll get you in for free. Hell, he'll even pay you to go."
"I don't have time to go!", another excuse. A few more and Seungkwan might even begin to crack the code behind your insistent refusal.
He suddenly straightened up from his laid-back position, staring directly in your direction, "All the solutions are there. You're the problem. It's like you want to be in pain! I could literally call him up right now and he'd drop work to come help you. Just get the damn massage!"
This is how a lot of your conversations went lately. Well, the very few conversations you could have nowadays due to your heavy workload. You'd occasionally even have to bring work home even after having been there for half the day. Your eight hours of sleep a night were not even pleasurable anymore, as you felt stiff as a rock the moment you attempted to lay down. The only comfortable stance, ironically, was hunched over in front of a computer. It was like you'd frozen into that pose, feeling immeasurable pain any time you attempted to move any other way. You'd tried pilates, stretches, yoga. Nothing worked. Maybe Cheol's massage really was the only solution, but it'd been so long since you began denying him you now felt a little silly going back on your word. That, and your other obvious issues.
"I'll be fine, Kwan! Just leave. You don't have to take care of me, I just need to lay for a bit."
"You'll lay there all day, I know you. Your life's become a constant state of sleep and work. Maybe you should just quit," he suggested, seemingly moving on from the Cheol topic. Finally.
"Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how much debt I have to pay off? I don't wanna be paying this off for the rest of my life. I'd rather suffer for a few years now and just get it out of the way," you reasoned, although not sounding very reasonable even to yourself. What's the rush?, a voice in the back of your head would sometimes whisper, but you'd just ignore it.
"Fine," he tsk'd. "Rot in your own misery, I'm going out with Kyeom and Soonie. If I come back and you've morphed into a rock, don't say I didn't warn you," and with that, he announced his departure, going forward with the plans you had made with your friends before your back had gotten in the way.
You knew your friend was kidding, but the unbearable pain would sometimes have you wonder. Should you just go to Cheol? What was the worst that could happen of you just let him touch you? His touch would be purely platonic, you were sure of that. But you feared that it would rekindle your feelings even more, and maybe that your high-strung self would not be able to handle such touch from him without finally snapping.
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You were weak. This wasn't much of a secret among your friend group, or anyone really. Which is why you now found yourself walking through the doors of Seungcheol's spa. You had spent about an hour rotting in your own misery, as Seungkwan had put it, before deciding to power through your pain and drive down to where you knew Seungcheol was currently working a shift. You hadn't called him, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. You weren't planning on booking a massage today, no. You couldn't have even if you wanted, knowing that the spa Seungcheol worked at was a bit renown in town and that their bookings went weeks back. You had just wanted to give it another try. Maybe visual learning would convince your stubborn self to accept Cheol's help for once.
You entered the establishment, already knowing exactly where to go to find out about Seungcheol's whereabouts. You walked to the receptionist, opening your mouth to ask for assistance before being rudely interrupted.
"Sorry. We're booked for the day. Our next open bookings begin in December. Try again then," the conversation had ended before it began, causing you to close your mouth right back up.
Once more, you opened your mouth to speak, maybe respond in equally passive aggressive tone as the girl had, but you were rudely interrupted once again, except this time it was by a warmer, more welcoming voice.
"Y/N? What are you doing here?", you could not see him from your angle, needing to turn around to face the source of the sound, but you could instantly hear the smile in his voice, clearly both happy and shocked to find you here of all people.
You turned around, now facing the boy. He was wearing his usual 'uniform', which really just consisted of some tight black slacks and a matching black short-sleeve top tucked into his pants. You'd forgotten how well his uniform fit him. It must've been one of the reasons why his massages were rated so high, you thought.
"Hey, Cheol ..." you smiled awkwardly, having been caught off guard by the man. You'd meant to surprise him, not the other way around.
"I wasn't expecting you. Did you call? Did you make an appointment?!", his eyes widened at the possibility, looking past you and at the receptionist as if to confirm his inquiry.
"No, Cheol. I told you I didn't want a massage. I came to see you, actually," well that was half true. You had wanted to see your friend in his element, maybe even convince yourself of finally taking him up on his offer. You had just wanted to see if you could handle that type of touch from your best friend considering your situation (re: a recovering case of touch starvation with a mixture of 'I might kind of maybe still have a bit of a crush on my bff').
To be completely honest, you were somewhat afraid. You'd hadn't felt any form of intimate touch in a long while or, well, ever. And to have it come from your best friend would only open up a can of worms you had wanted to keep under lock and key ever since meeting the man. Every excuse you'd given thus far to reject him bad been true, but had also been just that; an excuse. You knew that Seungcheol's treatment would help you lessen an issue that had now grown past your own personal ability to manage on your own. Which is why you were now here, willing to give it a try. You had self control, right? What was the worst that could happen if you let your best friend get his hands on you, your bare back as he rubbed it with oil? You'd deal with the logistics later, now you just wanted to see exactly what your friend was offering you.
"Me? What's up?", he had begun to walk you towards his rest area, away from the mean receptionist as he continued conversation with you.
"Well, I, uh, I was thinking about your offer ..."
"Really?! You wanna do it? I can clear up my schedule! Just let me talk to Stacy real quick and-"
"Cheol!", you had to physically hold him back from walking back to the reception to rearrange his day. He seemed way too excited to help you out.
"I haven't decided yet, Cheol. I was just thinking, well, wondering if it'd be okay for me to maybe shadow you for a while or something? Just to see what it'd be like?"
To any outsider you must've sounded like an idiot, somehow worrying over something that was arguably the most relaxing experience a person could possibly have. Ironically. What people didn't understand was the effect Seungcheol could have on a person. Specially a touch-starved, heavily emotionally invested, weak individual such as yourself. Denying your crush on Seungcheol was really the only defense you had left at this point. You could admit to your fears of being touched by Cheol, chalking it up to your lack of experience at being touched in general, but you could not even admit that your crush had maybe, perhaps, possibly, creeped back up a while back. It didn't help that no one you knew was aware of your sensitive state when it came to intimate contact. This was intel you hadn't even let your best friend in on. Maybe if it had been someone else, you would've accepted the massage already. You knew it didn't have to be an intimate interaction, it was just the fact that Cheol would be doing it that made it seem that way to you. But you knew his feelings would be hurt if you denied him and went to someone else. You'd dragged it out for far too long, making such a simple thing way too complicated.
~
Cheol easily agreed to your request, seemingly excited to even have you around his workplace at all. It was cute, really. He let you know that his next booking would start in ten minutes or so, so you waited with him during his break. Despite not receiving a massage for yourself, he provided you with a robe to change into due to the humidity most of their rooms tended to have during a session.
"Are you sure it's okay that I'm here? Won't the client mind?"
"Nah. She's a regular, she tends to forget her own name five minutes in," he winked at you. Well, that was reassuring ..
The massage began soon after. The woman, probably in her early 40's, walked in, gave Seungcheol a friendly greeting and proceeded to lay down, barely even acknowledging your presence in the back of the room. Cheol gave some weak excuse of 'she's in training, just showing her the ropes' to justify your presence, earning an uninterested hum in acknowledgment from the woman before she had begun taking off her robe and gotten on the bed in preparation for her awaited session. She was't fully naked but had very thin underwear on, meaning you could practically see every detail from her back. Her face-down position gave you a perfect angle to her almost-bare ass as Seungcheol prepared the oils he had set on the table beside him. There was also some incense burning in the room, along with some steam to help with ambience.
The massage began very slowly, allowing Seungcheol to deliver very soft touches as he spread the oil around her back. He even went as far as the back of her legs and ass, reaching as far as her feet. The first few minutes simply consisted of him spreading the oil around. You hadn't known Seungcheol gave full body massages til now. Before having started the session, Cheol had told you 'Pay close attention. This is what I'll do to you when you agree.' Had he meant he'd be running his hands up and down your entire body? The thought made you shudder, almost missing the show in front of you.
His next movements were harsher, but in a clearly pleasurable way. He began to knead roughly at the woman's shoulders, making her groan at the pleasurable pain. He did this for a while, clearly having found a point of tension in that area. His thumbs focused on specific areas of tension that you were familiar with; the same areas you'd known your back had knots in. Even just seeing it made the sore parts of your back beg for release of tension. When he moved on, he targeted the upper center of her back, just below where her breasts were located on the opposite side of her body. He rubbed at the sides, sliding his hands up and down the length of her back as he massaged expertly. He continually used the extra strength of his thumbs to pressure and rub at the sore spots. He didn't even have to ask where it hurt, it seemed like he could just detect it on his own. This was clearly exerting the woman, as she moaned and sighed at the feeling of Seungcheol's hands on her. It was clearly exerting Seungcheol too, who was letting out groans from his own efforts.
You imagined yourself in her position, wanting to be the sole receiver of his touches and sounds. You felt ashamed, but the act was making your body heat up. You knew it was purely innocent, and with the purpose of relaxation, but you couldn't help yourself. You wanted to blame the humidity in the room, or maybe the cozy material of your robe, but there was only one culprit; Choi Seungcheol. You had been right to believe that his touch would be your undoing. Simply hearing him was enough to make you lightheaded. You had lost track of where the massage had went, only thinking about the man in the room now. You cursed your vivid imagination for the images it was putting in your head just at the mere sounds coming from your friend.
The massage continued for a while, eventually sending the woman into a deep slumber. Cheol kept re-applying oil to her back throughout the session, even lowering his hands all the way to knead at her ass and the back of her legs during some points. That made you extra lightheaded. Not just at the thought of Seungcheol touching you in the same way, but knowing he'd have the magic touch able to release the tension trapped all over your back. You couldn't blame the woman for the sounds she made or the way she fell asleep due to the pleasure. You could only imagine your own reaction at Seungcheol doing the same to you. Even just seeing the way he rubbed at the skin had your back aching for the same release of pressure from the tightest spots on your back.
You were still slightly affected by the time the woman had woken up and left, leaving you and Cheol alone in the room, promising Seungcheol she'd be back soon as she exited. He approached you with a smile, clearly proud of having shown you his skills in action.
"So, what did you think?"
"I, uh, you're really good, Cheol. I'm surprised."
"Surprised? I've been telling you I'm the best for months! C'mon, there's no way you don't want a massage after seeing that," he rebutted, smirking with confidence.
You remained silent for a second, pondering as to whether or not you should move forward with this. He was right. He was clearly talented at it, and he really just wanted to help. Your aching back was begging for it, and so were the other aching parts of your body. But you didn't know if you could hold back without embarrassing yourself at your best friend's hands on you in such an intimate way.
Your best friend must've taken notice of your silence, speaking up again, but in a more serious yet sympathetic manner.
"Listen. I know you can be a bit .. shy about these things. If it helps, we can just set up at my apartment? I have a massage bed there too! It would just be the two of us. C'mon, what do you say?", he gave you puppy eyes as he usually did when asking for something.
He was always hard to deny. And in this vulnerable moment, with your back begging for relief and your body aching for his touch, you weren't surprised when you found yourself muttering a 'yes' in affirmation.
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A few days passed. You and Cheol ended up having to coordinate your days off. It had actually been almost a full week until you were able to see each other again, which for you meant yet another week of grueling pain you had to put up with. You were really beginning to consider putting an end to the overtime you'd been working. Maybe after the massage you could begin to work less hours in order to lessen the pain. Maybe even take Cheol up on his offer of getting a standing appointment to lessen the pain more and more and prevent it from coming back again. It was something to think about. But now you had better things to worry about. Those things taking form in the man standing on the opposite side of the door in front of you.
You had agreed on today, a Saturday night, in order for you to come to his apartment and receive the dreaded massage. Cheol had worked all day today, which made you feel a bit bad about making him basically step back into his work duties but this time at home. He reassured you it was more than fine, reasoning that you'd worked all week and he had just wanted to work around your busy schedule. You appreciated his efforts to work with you, having always known Cheol to put your comfort before anything else. Which was yet another reason why you felt badly at receiving this favor from him. To anyone else it might've just been a massage, but you knew that to Cheol this was a service he was used to getting paid for, a talent which he put effort into. You felt like both like a leech and like a source of annoyance due to this whole ordeal.
You put all your thoughts aside and knocked on the door, knowing it was now time to forget about all your worries and just let Seungcheol take care of you. He opened the door almost immediately, almost as if he'd been waiting on the other side of it, ear against the door while your internal monologue went off in your head.
"You're here!", he smiled widely at you, ushering you in.
"You invited me, Cheol. I wasn't about to ditch you."
"But you thought about it, didn't you?", he kinda had you there. You did consider it, but you knew your best friend would've tracked you down sooner or later anyways.
"Listen, I know you're nervous, but there's nothing to be nervous about! I'll take care of you. It won't be awkward, I swear," despite having never told him of your lack of experience with touch, you always assumed he had some idea of it. He didn't know the full story, though. Not about the fact that your issue with the massage was being touched by him; the former source of your desires.
"It's .. it's fine, Cheol. I'm not nervous, I promise. Just don't know what to expect, that's all."
"I'll guide you through it. I set out the massage table for you in my room. I have the oils ready too. Oh! Did you bring a bikini to change into?"
Right. Last time you spoke he had asked you to bring either a bikini or some comfortable underwear. He's said something about needing your body as nude as possible ('within your comfort zone!', he'd quickly added) in order to give you a full massage. He also said the oils he used had a tendency of staining and leaving their strong fragrance on most fabrics. It was usually spa policy to provide customers with robes and such for their sessions, but being located in his home at the moment, he'd asked you to just bring your bikini directly.
You didn't feel any type of way about this, surprisingly. Having known Seungcheol for years, he'd seen you in a bikini as many times as you'd seen him shirtless and in very tiny swim trunks. The one thing, however, was the thought of him touching your bare skin, but it was too late to back out - not that you wanted to anyways.
"Y-yeah, it's in my bag. Did you wanna start right away or ..?"
"Yeah! Go get ready and I'll start preparing the oils for you. I'll also light some incense for ambience," and with that, he left you alone in the living room so that you could change without interruption. He went into his room to prepare things, closing the door to allow you some privacy.
You had chosen your skimpiest bikini. Not for any inferior motives! But because you knew Cheol needed access to your bare skin as much as possible. Your lower lower back had been killing you lately. Even more so than your shoulders, due to sitting all day every day. So you wanted to give him room to take care of that without any clothing getting in the way. You hastily got changed, deciding that you'd already waited long enough and that it was time to get this over with.
'Are you ready?", you heard Cheol ask from his room a few minutes later.
Ok, it was time. Anyone else would've been ecstatic at the thought of their crush rubbing all over their body, or at the idea of a free full-body massage. But you were too high-strung for your own good, which only increased your anxiety over the whole thing. However, you were now here, almost in the nude, only one door away from the man who would rid you of your pain and replace it with pleasure.
You stepped into the room without verbalizing a response, immediately meeting eyes with an expectant Cheol, who was organizing his oils as he awaited your arrival. He'd outdone himself, really. He had lowered the lighting in the room, lighting a few candles and some incense in order to turn up the spa ambience. The place smelled divine, and even the temperature was perfect. You could already feel yourself getting relaxed.
"Cheol, holy shit. This is too much. You didn't have to go so out of your way. This looks like an actual spa!"
"Only the best for my best friend," he gave his gummy smile in return, eyeing you as he directed you towards the massage table that was standing in the middle of the room. "You ready?"
"Yeah," you breathed out, accepting his stretched hand as he helped position you on the table.
He laid you face down on the table, but with your head turned to the side, as to not squish your features against the flat surface, "Try not to think too much, yeah? It'll feel so good, I promise. I'm gonna get rid of all tension in your body," the way he'd said it sounded promising, almost hinting at something more.
Without much warning, he began to softly run his hands up and down your body, going from your shoulders all the way down to your calves, almost as if sizing you up in order to come up with a game plan for your massage. Even that feather-like touch had you flinching a little. You'd never been caressed like this before.
"Shit, you're very high-strung. Even more than I thought," he chuckled in response to your body's reaction to such light touch.
"Cheol ..." you whined.
"Sorry. I'll start now, okay? You're gonna feel a little warm in a second. I'm gonna oil you up so it's easier for me to massage you, yeah? I picked my favorite scented oils for you."
You were thankful for the warning, because the warmth you felt immediately after made you swoon internally. You almost moaned out loud at the feeling of his hands lightly rubbing the oil all over your body. You were already affected and he hadn't even begun. It didn't take him long to actually start, however. He began with your neck, almost wrapping his hands all around it, but not closing them in on it. His thumbs were focusing on the lower part of the back of your neck, rubbing at spots you hadn't even realized were that sore.
"You're so tense, Jesus Christ," he was right. You could feel instant relief at his touch, pressing your body further into the soft material of the cushion of the table in pure relaxation.
He rubbed that area for a while, seemingly trying to target the knots located there. He then moved onto your shoulders, beginning to rub a little harder. He began to dig his thumbs into the problem areas, going extra hard at any points of tension. With this extra strength, also came his vocalization of his efforts. His groans of exertion began to fill the room, making you feel even more lightheaded than the massage itself.
"Shit, Baby. You're so fucking tight here."
The wording itself was killing you, but the way he touched you while doing it made you melt into the table, afraid you'd begin to vocalize your pleasure through the form of moans or whines. So far you'd been able to get away with soft breaths and maybe a gasp or two. But you knew that the moment you let go, you wouldn't be able to control the way your body would react to his touch. You were slightly terrified of what would come the lower he went down your body.
Then he threw you yet another curveball.
He leaned down, halting his movements for a moment, and put his mouth a few inches from your ear, "I can feel you tensing up. It's okay, I'll take care of you. You can relax for me."
You saw that as a green light to let go, whining a tiny 'uh huh' in response as he continued his movements.
He went lower and lower, now rubbing your lower back; the area right before the slope of your ass began, but he was quickly approaching it. Every area he had touched so far, he had undone. You felt like your back had been liberated of the huge weight it had been carrying for years. You were whining and moaning at the pleasure he was giving you, and also at the feel of his hands on your body. You felt yourself get wetter by the minute, having started to feel moisture down there from the moment he began massaging you. You were ashamed, but his touch so close to your biggest point of tension was driving you insane. You wanted him to forget about the massage and just flip you over.
"Okay, baby. Now I'm gonna do your ass, okay? Trust me, I know it sounds dumb, but a lot of people carry a lot of tension here"
He was right once again. As he massaged the muscle, you felt tension you didn't even know you had finally unwind. He repositioned you a bit, asking you to lift one of your legs to the side and let it hang a bit off of the side of the table. This angle lifted up your ass a bit, and disconnected your crotch from the table. You were slightly embarrassed, knowing that if he looked through a certain angle he'd be able to see you glisten with desire for him, but you chose to ignore it and hope for the best. Cheol was already helping you so much.
He continued for a few moments, occasionally going down and rubbing lightly at the back of your thighs and calves before coming back up to your lower back and butt. But he suddenly stopped at some point. You could've sworn you heard an intake of breath.
"Hey .. I'm gonna try a special technique. Is that okay?"
You were almost completely gone in pleasure by then, eyes becoming heavier by the minute. You didn't even have to think before saying yes.
You felt him lean his body more over the table, and also a bit over the lower half of your body. He was still just massaging your lower back with one hand, while making you bend your leg a little higher than before. You weren't sure what he meant by special technique, but you were down for anything had in mind. Except you hadn't expected what he would do next.
Having bent your leg forward, he had given himself the perfect angle of your pussy from behind, deciding to let his hand slip between your legs and run his fingers lightly over your folds. You gasped at this, repositioning yourself a bit to give him even more access. He took this as a welcoming sign, starting to run his hands up and down your pussy, stopping once in a while to rub at your swollen clit.
"Baby .. You're so tense here .. Let me help you? Yeah?" He said this as he continued to increase the intensity of his movements, rubbing more and more at your clit.
"Y-yes. Fuck. Please, Cheol ..." you whined, giving him permission to do whatever he wanted to you.
You yelped at his next movements. He had shoved his fingers inside with no warning, leaning down to kiss softly at your ass while he fingered you. The speed of his fingers wasn't too fast, but it was deep and calculated, dragging across all the places you needed him most. He was right, you did feel tense there, but his movements were relaxing you like nothing else could.
"Is it working, baby? Am I making you feel good?"
You'd buried your face into one of your arms, but still managed to squeak out a "yes!" in affirmation.
"Just 'yes', baby? We can do better than that, don't you think? I think I have something to rid you of all your tension ..." you could hear the smirk in his voice as he said this, feeling him finally remove the tiny piece of fabric between your legs.
He positioned his body a little further over the lower half of the table, lowering his face to the space between your cheeks in order to get his tongue on your pussy. He began to lick and suck softly, keeping a pace similar to that of his fingers just a few seconds ago. The pleasure was blinding you, causing you to lightly grind against his face, wanting as much pleasure as you could milk out of him. He seemed to like this, as he lifted his hands and placed them on your hips, guiding your grinding against him and taking on an even better angle.
All that could be heard were the moist sounds of his tongue on your heat and your cries of pleasure. The massage had been fully forgotten. All you could think about was your best friend's tongue and the way his groans against your pussy were making you lose your mind. It seemed like this was bringing him as much satisfaction as it did you.
"Ch-Cheollie! Right there! Fuck!", he'd begun to suckle at your clit, wanting you to finally reach your high and bring you as much pleasure as imaginable.
"Cum all ove' my face baby! wann' taste that pretty pussy," his words were muffled. He seemed physically incapable of separating himself from you.
You came almost immediately, loving the vibrations of his groans against you. You fell completely limp, being rendered a shell of yourself. The whole thing had felt like an out of body experience. From the massage to the life-changing orgasm. You were convinced there was no greater pleasure than what you'd felt in the past half hour. But Seungcheol seemed to disagree, instantly pulling you towards him and sitting you on the table, your body now facing his.
He had untied your bikini top earlier into the massage, which you hadn't minded since you were facing down and away from his view anyways, but now you were grateful he had. He was making direct eye contact with your tits, almost as if pondering as to what to do with them. He seemed to reach a decision, however, and attacked them with his lips with intense fervor, licking and biting at your swollen buds. He had you moaning out in pleasure again. It was as if he'd studied your body without you knowing, being an expert in all your weak spots.
He made out with your tits for a while, making your eyes roll back at the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive nipples. When he pulled away, he instantly began undressing himself at record speed. He had just been wearing shorts and a loose top, which made the process pretty quick. Immediately after getting himself nude, he positioned you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist from your position sitting on the table. He dragged you as close to him as possible by your legs, pressing your chests together.
He looked down at you while running his hands up and down your back, which was still slightly sticky with oil. He seemed to be in a trance, just looking at you with an endeared expression in his eyes, "You're so beautiful. Your body's so ... fuck. Can't believe you've been in pain for so long, baby. When I could've been taking care of you all this time," he had began to kiss along your neck and clavicles as he said this.
"Cheollie .." you breathed out, tilting your neck to the side to allow him extra space to kiss.
"Can I take care of you, baby? Let me get rid of all your tension?", he'd started grinding his bare hips against yours, having pushed open your legs in order to allow himself to drag his dick against your cunt.
Even just the weight of his cock against you had you whining, burying your face in his neck, not knowing how to react at the stimulation. You'd already felt the most pleasure when Cheol buried his tongue in your cunt, or so you'd thought. But that did not hold a candle to the feeling of his fat head as it nudged against your folds. You began to whine and writhe against him, hands digging into his arms as he ground against you. Until he nudged your head away from his neck, wanting to face you. He halted his movements altogether and looked into your eyes for a few moments, a small smile gracing his lips. His eyes began to lower, now staring directly at your lips. Your eyes mirrored his. It was a tender moment in the midst of what had just now been a mess of grinding bodies and oil. When he finally kissed you was when you truly felt relief. No massage could have compared to the bliss you felt with your best friend's lips against your own. The softness of the kiss didn't last much, however, as the movements of his hips picked back up and the kiss began to become more moist by the second.
Cheol took advantage of your soft gasps at the feeling of his cock against your cunt to slip his tongue in your mouth, expertly massaging yours with his. This went on for a bit, allowing for Cheol to stimulate you with some kissing and dry humping, further preparing you to take him free of pain. He was a little larger in size than average, and with the very limited experience he had asserted you to have, he wanted to prevent you from feeling any pain. He had wanted tonight to be nothing but pleasure for you, knowing how badly you've been needing some relaxation, and maybe with the slight ulterior motive of finally getting with his pretty bestie.
He unglued himself from your lips, chuckling at the way you whined as your lips followed his, "Baby, I'm gonna fuck you now, yeah? Wanna see you fully relaxed. That okay?"
"Mhm. Yes, Cheollie. Do anything you want. Trust you," you mumbled in response, head filled with air as you barely caught your breath from the overload of pleasure you'd felt tonight.
With that, he began to enter you, bulbous head showing a bit of a fight in entering your tight walls. You both let out a moan of relief when he finally bottomed out, almost as if you'd both been craving this for a while. He fucked you with a passion only someone who wanted you the way you wanted him would. You'd thought you'd reached the utmost pleasure when Cheol had you cumming against his tongue, but nothing could ever compare to being full of him as he praised you through every thrust, calling you every possible adjective to describe your beauty.
"B-baby! So fucking good. So pretty for me .. Gonna fuck you all night. Gonna fuck you to sleep. All mine now," he began canting in and out of you with even more intensity now, making sure to hit that spot with every thrust.
"Cheollie!"
"I know, baby. Gonna cum for me? Gonna let me fill that pussy up, aren't you, pretty?"
It didn't take long for you to cum, already feeling an overwhelming amount of emotions at every type of pleasure Seungcheol had delivered to you tonight. He followed soon after you, yelling out your name at the tightening of your walls around him. He breathed heavily as he leaned against you for a minute or two, only then moving away from you in order to get a towel and begin to clean you up.
"Sorry .. was that too much?", he smiled sheepishly as you seemed to wince when he attempted to clean you up between your thighs.
"No! It was perfect, just ... not really used to it, that's all."
"Okay, baby. If you say so. Now let me take you to bed!", with no warning, he picked you up and brought you over to his bed, completely ignoring the mess he'd caused on his massage table after having fucked you on it. He laid you down, cocooning you into his blankets before rushing to the other side of the bed and holding you in his arms.
He turned to look at you as he cradled your body against his, "Do you feel better now? Still sore?", the question seemed genuine.
"No, Cheollie. I feel amazing. I've never felt this good before, actually."
"That good, huh? I told you I was the best! But don't worry, baby. Gonna keep your appointment every week like I promised. Gonna keep you in my bed every time you're feeling sore, yeah, baby? Don't even have to ask, I'll be waiting for you," he chuckled at himself as he said this, but being completely serious.
"Will you give me your special treatment again?," you giggled against his lips.
"That's for you and you only, baby," he replied as he closed the gap between you once more.
a/n: ok i mightve made reader a lil extra overdramatic this time but u guys have to understand. my back hurts like hell. so pls sympathize w reader bc shes lowkey my soul sister in that area 😭
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hoshifighting · 2 months
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Nerd!Seungcheol
— Synopsis: After finding Nerdy!Seungcheol crying in the corner of the locker room because his girlfriend broke up with him to be with a jock after joining in the cheerleading team, you decide to help him and do everything he wished his ex-girlfriend had done. — WC: 6.6k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, crack, some bickering—slight enemies2lovers plot, he cries, seungcheol is not a virgin (but his ex never gave him blowjob), mentions of alcohol (beer), mentions of glow-up, reader uses short dress and mentions short skirt, oral (f. & m. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, cock riding, answering phone in the middle of the sex—voyeur?, hickeys, body fluids (cum) and cringey mentions of hands mimics (fingering/blowjob).
As you head to the dressing room to grab your things after your Friday lonely practice, the usual silence from the night is broken by a faint, muffled sound. You pause, listening intently. It’s a sniffling noise, followed by broken pants. Curiosity piqued, you follow the sound deeper into the lockers, your footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor.
Turning the corner, you find Seungcheol, huddled in a corner, hugging his knees to his chest. 
“Seungcheol? What are you doing here?” you ask, a smirk tugging at your lips. Teasing him is practically second nature to you.
His head snaps up, eyes wide and red-rimmed. “What do you want?” he snaps back, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.
You place a hand on your waist, raising an eyebrow. “I think the better question is, why are you in the women’s locker room?”
His eyes widen in realization. “Seriously?” he mutters, scrambling to his feet, the embarrassment clear on his tear-streaked face.
You roll your eyes and turn to leave. 
You wait just outside, leaning against the wall with your phone, scrolling through messages, pretending not to notice the state he’s in.
A few moments later, Seungcheol emerges, his face still blotchy from crying but now trying to pull himself together. He dries his tears on his sweatshirt, still hiccuping softly.
“Spill it,” you say, not looking up from your phone. “What happened?”
He hesitates, but he knows that on Monday, everyone will know about it. “Minji broke up with me,” he admits, his voice cracking. “She’s dating Jaehyun from the basketball team now.”
It’s a stereotype for a reason. “And you didn’t see that coming?”
Seungcheol’s face crumples again, and you immediately regret your harsh words.
But you can't help it! Jaehyun is the quintessential jock, the kind of guy who always ends up dating cheerleaders. It’s almost cliché.
Seungcheol nods continuing, looking down at his feet. “I knew she wanted more popularity, but I didn’t think she’d...”
“Look, Seungcheol, she’s not worth it if she’s willing to dump you for some jock just to boost her social status.” You shrug as you walk toward the hallway exit.
He looks up at you, eyes filled with confusion. “Why are you being nice to me?”
You shrug, slipping your phone into your bag. “I can’t let you mope around like this. It’s pathetic.”
He manages a weak smile at that. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll walk you back to your dorm,” you say, starting to walk again.
You leave Seungcheol at his dorm, giving him a final glance. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you need to toughen up.” 
The weekend passes in a blur of volleyball practice and social events. You don’t see Seungcheol at all, not even a glimpse. Sunday night, you find yourself at a party, scanning the crowded room. There she is—Minji, with Jaehyun, surrounded by people. They look like the picture-perfect couple, a stark contrast to the image of Seungcheol crying in the women’s locker room just two nights ago.
After the party, you head to the convenience store near the university dorms to grab a late-night snack before heading to bed. As you wander down the ramen aisle, you almost bump into someone. You look up and see Seungcheol, his face so fucking swollen and hidden under a hood.
“What the fuck happened to your face?” you whisper, startled, clutching your snacks.
He scoffs, “What do you think? Been crying all weekend.”
You furrow your brows. “Seriously? You’ve been crying the whole time?”
“What do you think?” he repeats, more bitterly this time, grabbing a pack of ramen.
You both head to the cashier, the cashier glancing curiously at Seungcheol's disheveled appearance. As you walk towards the dorm buildings, it strikes you how funny you must look together—your party dress barely covering your ass, and his baggy 'I'm not going to see anyone I know' clothes.
“Man, if you’re going to show up looking like this tomorrow, you might as well ask to leave college for real,” you say, shaking your head.
He sighs, his voice weary. “I’m not going to drop out because of her.”
“Then stop crying,” you reply, exasperated.
He snaps at you, “What do you even know about it?”
You pause in your tracks and give him a hard stare. “While you were crying your eyes out all weekend, she was giving Jaehyun head in his car, like, minutes ago,” you say, your face contorting with disgust at the memory.
His eyes open wide. “She gave him head?! What a whore. She never even gave me a blowjob.” he mutters, more to himself than to you.
You raise an eyebrow, munching on your snack. “She never did? Seriously?”
He looks even more pissed, fists clenching at his sides. “I swear! And I always—never mind…” 
“Dude, you were crying over someone who’s not even worth it,” you say, shaking your head. “She’s obviously just using Jaehyun for popularity. She’s not worth your tears.”
He kicks a pebble on the sidewalk, the anger beaming off him. “I thought she loved me.” 
“Pfft! Clearly, she didn't,” you reply, shrugging. “She’s a social climber. She’ll do whatever it takes to get to the top.”
He looks at you, grabbing a handful of your snacks “You’re right. I’m done with her.” he mutters, chewing monstrously. Seungcheol frowns, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “How did you even know about that?”
“I was at the party,” you admit with a shrug.
He glances at you, taking in your outfit and the faint smell of feminine perfume mixed with alcohol. “Now it makes sense why you smell like that and why you’re dressed like this at 11 p.m. on a Sunday,” He glances down, taking in your party dress that’s riding high.
He recalls the moment in the convenience store when you bent down to grab some Takis from the bottom shelf, your ass almost completely exposed. He had glanced, unfortunately and quickly moved to stand behind you, rolling his eyes, blocking the cashier's view, who was wide-eyed and staring. 
“Man, I gotta tell you about all the crap I had to put up with.” he begins.
You listen attentively, craving some juicy gossip to cap off your weekend. He needed to vent, and you were going to end the day with some top-tier gossip. A win-win situation.
At his dorm, Seungcheol sits on his bed, and you are plopping down on the chair, eager to hear the tea.
“Can you believe she made me cancel our anniversary dinner because she wanted to go to some stupid party instead?” he says, shaking his head.
“No way!” you exclaim, licking Takis powder off your fingers, your eyes wide with interest.
He nods, exasperated. “Yeah, and she didn’t even tell me until the last minute. I had this whole thing planned, and she just ditched me.”
“Unbelievable,” you mutter, munching on another Takis. 
“And she always made me do her assignments. I spent countless nights writing essays for her while she was out partying.” 
“She did that?” you ask, genuinely shocked.
“Yep,” he sighs, moving restlessly on his bed. “And get this—she once made me wait for three hours outside her dorm because she was ‘getting ready.’ When she finally came out, she said she didn’t feel like going out anymore.”
“That’s insane!” you gasp, shaking your head in disbelief. “She’s the worst.”
“She really is,” he agrees. “And she never wanted to do anything I liked. It was always about her and what she wanted.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s because you’re too nice, Seungcheol. If it were me, I’d have shown up the next day in a mini skirt like this—” You make a gesture with your fingers, indicating something tiny, “—just to rub it in her face.”
He snorts, amused by the thought. “Yeah, well, I guess it’s different for a guy.”
“Maybe,” you reply, pausing as an idea strikes you. “Wait, do you have contact lenses? Or maybe a clipper?”
He looks confused. “What? Why?”
You step closer, gently moving his hair out of his forehead. “Because if you’re going to move on, you need a new look. Let’s start with this mess of hair.” 
He looks at you, confused. “You really think that’ll help?”
“Bro, trust me,” you say, determined. 
You walk around his room, rummaging through his things, looking for the clipper. Seungcheol sits on his bed, looking at you… Nervously. 
As you plug in the clipper, the buzzing sound fills the room. Seungcheol’s eyes widen in alarm. “You’re not going to make me bald, are you?”
You smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you remember who did the girls’ undercuts below their ponytails for last semester's game?”
His eyes light up in recognition. “That was you?”
You walk back smugly, opening your arms. “Yep, that was all me.”
As you begin cutting his hair, he starts talking again. “You know, she once told me that my glasses made me look like a nerd, and she hated it when I wore them in public.”
You roll your eyes. “Ya! That’s ridiculous. Your glasses suit you. But we can always get you contacts if you want a change.”
You skillfully give him an undercut, trimming his hair and revealing a fresh look. He looks at himself in the mirror, his forehead and thick eyebrows finally getting the attention they deserve. You help him with the contacts, and before you leave his dorm, you give him a final piece of advice.
“No sweaters,” you say firmly.
The next day, as you finish getting ready in your dorm, you hear a knock on the door. Opening it, you find Seungcheol standing there, looking surprisingly handsome in his new look.
“Look at you!” you exclaim, giving him a knowing smile and nodding for him to enter. As you finish getting ready, you ask, “What are you doing here?”
He shuffles his feet, looking a bit shy. “I don’t know, just felt weird going alone.” “You look healthy,” he says, his eyes taking in your appearance.
“Yeah, I took a bath,” you reply, deadpan. “You should try it sometime.”
He chuckles, the nervousness fading a bit. 
Together, you head towards the university building. As you walk beside him, you notice people glancing at him, some even doing double-takes. You stand proudly, shoulders squared, almost waving like a beauty queen.
As you and Seungcheol make your way down the hallway, you spot Minji in the middle of the corridor, surrounded by a group of people. Your eyes dart between her, Seungcheol, and Jaehyun, and you think to yourself that this moment is straight out of a movie. You almost wish you had popcorn to complete the scene.
You and Seungcheol walk closer, and you can see Minji's eyes light up as she spots him. She opens her mouth, probably ready to deliver some dramatic line or apology. 
But Seungcheol, simply ignores her and doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a glance. His chest puffed out slightly.
You take a fine distance from them, your jaw practically dropping in disbelief. “I can’t believe you actually did that, did you really just ignore her?” you ask, laughing.
Despite his impressive new look, Seungcheol didn’t end up mingling with the jock crowd as you might have expected. 
Instead, during recess, you spotted him from afar, sitting with his book club friends. The contrast was cute—here he was, looking like he could easily fit in with the jocks, but he chose to hang out with his old crew, surrounded by books and enthusiastic chat. He stayed true to his roots, hanging out with the people who truly mattered to him
He had the whole package—stylish haircut, fresh look, and yet, he was still the same Seungcheol. Still maintaining his original traits and habits.
The bell rings, signaling the end of classes, and you head towards the dorms, looking forward to a bit of downtime. Suddenly, you hear someone calling after you.
“Hey! Wait up!”
You turn to see Seungcheol jogging towards you, his new look making him stand out even more than before. He’s out of breath but manages a grin. “How can I show my appreciation for what you did?”
You wave him off with a smile. “You don’t need to do anything.”
He pouts, looking genuinely disappointed. “Come on, please!”
You roll your eyes, teasingly. “Calm down, nerd! Hmm, maybe just a beer or something?”
His face brightens at the suggestion. “Beer? That sounds perfect!”
You chuckle, shaking your head as you both start walking together.
As you and Seungcheol sit at a small corner table in the campus bar, nursing your beers, he takes a swig and shakes his head in disbelief.
“I can’t believe I’m drinking on a Monday,” he says, looking at his beer as if it might somehow magically make the week less mundane.
You laugh, leaning back in your chair. “Sometimes it feels like drinking just becomes a part of the routine. It’s like college fucks you up so much that you need these little escapes to keep your sanity.”
Seungcheol nods in agreement, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yeah, it’s kind of messed up how we end up just normalizing this stuff.”
You both sip in comfortable silence for a moment before he glances at his phone, scrolling through a chat. “Oh, hey, look at this,” he says.
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that?”
He shows you a photo on his phone. It’s from the party you were at on Sunday—Minji inside Jaehyun’s car, Minji’s head is down, clearly giving him a blowjob, and Jaehyun’s face is smug. Your face scrunches up in disgust as you look at it.
“Ugh, yeah, that’s what I saw,” you say, cringing. “I didn’t want to think about it again.”
Seungcheol sighs heavily. “It’s just... seeing that, after everything that happened, it’s like she’s moved on and I’m left here...”
You take a deep breath, considering his frustration. “Yeah, I get it. It’s a shitty situation.”
He looks at you. “You know, I never really got why she never... I mean, she never did that for me. Not that I’m complaining or anything.”
You blink, taken aback by his confession. “She has never given you a blowjob? You were serious then?”
Seungcheol nods, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah, and now seeing her do it for Jaehyun... it just feels like a slap in the face.”
You sip your beer, thinking it over. The whole situation has him worked up, and you can’t help but feel a bit sympathetic. 
“Damn, that’s rough. I can see why you’d be so pissed.”
“it’s like, she was so willing to do it with Jaehyun, but never with me,” he says, clearly frustrated.
“Well, now you know,” you say, a bit smugly. “She was obviously saving that for Jaehyun.”
He looks down at his beer, indeed annoyed. “Yeah, she was a piece of work. I guess I should have seen it coming.”
“Well, we could always find a way to have some fun and blow off steam. I’m sure there’s a way to make you forget about Minji’s bullshit.”
Seungcheol’s eyes narrow with curiosity. “Like what?”
“I’m sure we could figure something out. Maybe even something you’ve been wanting for a while.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh really? And what’s that?”
You lean in even closer, your voice barely a whisper. “Let’s just say, I know a thing or two about making someone forget their ex and feel a lot better. Are you interested?”
You smirk, is he acting, or he's that bad at catching hints?
He looks at you, catching the hint. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
You grin, leaning in a bit closer. “Depends on what you think I’m saying.”
He blushes slightly, his eyes meeting yours. “Careful, Y/N. You’re making it sound like you’re fishing for something specific.”
“Maybe I am. Just putting it out there.” you shrug.
“Are you serious? Stop playin' with me.”
“I'm dead serious.”
He looks at you, contemplating the offer. “You know what? Let’s do it.”
You can't quite pinpoint if it's the alcohol working its magic, loosening up inhibitions, or if it’s just the chemistry between you and Seungcheol, but his attempts at flirting are hitting all the right notes. There’s a certain charm to the way he’s leaning closer, trying to gauge your reactions with every word he says.
He takes a sip of his beer, his eyes meeting yours. “You know,” he starts, his voice a bit slurred, “I’ve always admired how you can just say whatever you want.”
You laugh softly, leaning in to match his tone. “Oh really? And what else do you admire?”
He smiles, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Well, for starters, your confidence. And the way you’re not afraid to call me out. It’s actually pretty sexy.”
The alcohol seems to be giving him a boldness you’ve never seen before. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face a bit clumsy.
“You’re drunk,” you tease, though you can’t deny the flutter of excitement his touch brings.
“Maybe,” he admits, his gaze lingering on your lips. “But I’m not too drunk to know when something feels right.”
“Seungcheol,” you say softly, trying to keep things light but feeling a pull towards him, “are you sure you want to go down this road?”
He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
[...]
The scent of your dorm—so unmistakably you—fills Seungcheol's senses, making him harder than ever. As he stands before you, your naked form on your knees, your hand between your legs touching your throbbing clit, and the sight of you looking up at him with hunger in your eyes, it’s enough to make his head spin.
You stroke his cock with one hand, licking your lips like you’re about to devour him. 
His cheeks are flushed, maybe from the alcohol, maybe from the very embarrassment of the situation. He bites his bottom lip, eyes wide with anticipation, his cock starting to ache with need. The handjob you’re giving him is good, but it’s not nearly enough.
“Fuck, you’re so hard,” you murmur, your voice dripping with lust. You can feel his cock twitching in your hand, the head sticky with precum.
He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes glued to the sight of your hand moving up and down his shaft. 
You lean in, your tongue flicking out to taste the precum at the tip of his cock. The salty, slightly bitter taste coats your tongue, and you hum appreciatively, savoring the flavor. Seungcheol's breath hitches, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.
“Oh, fuck!” he groans, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
You smile up at him, loving his reaction. You want this to be memorable, to engrave this moment into his mind permanently. You give the head of his cock a few teasing licks before enveloping your lips around it. 
“Holy shit, Y/N!” he groans, his voice ragged. As you slide your mouth further down, taking him deeper, his body curls inward, every muscle tensing. It’s like you’re sucking every ounce of energy from him, and he can barely stand it. Your mouth is so wet, so warm, and you look so devoted, so gorgeous.
You look up at him through your lashes, seeing the absolute ecstasy on his face. You’re dedicated, giving all of yourself to make this perfect for him. You bob your head, sucking him deeper, your cheeks hollowing with the effort. Your tongue works along his length, swirling around the tip before you take him in again.
Seungcheol’s efforts to hold back his moans crumble. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so good,” he whimpers, his voice loaded with desperation. He grips your hair, not to control but to anchor himself, as his arms on the bed threaten to give out.
You hum around his cock, the vibrations making him shudder. You suck harder, your hand stroking the base of his shaft in beat with your mouth. You can feel him throbbing against your tongue, his neediness evident in every spasm and moan.
His moans become louder, more ragged, filling the room. The sound of his pleasure fuels your horniness, and you touch yourself more frantically, your fingers rubbing your clit in time with the movements of your mouth. You’re giving him everything, and you love the way he’s falling apart above you.
“Y/N, I’m so close,” he chokes out whiny. “I can’t… I can’t hold it…”
You look up at him, and suck him even harder, your mouth sliding up and down his length faster. You want to push him over the edge, to give him the orgasm he so desperately needs. Your hand strokes his shaft with more speed, your mouth working tirelessly.
You can't believe that Minji never gave Seungcheol a blowjob. Just the sight of his cock is almost enough to make you cum. With your hand still slick from touching yourself, you grab the base of his shaft and take him as deep as you can, sinking him down your throat. 
You hold him there for some seconds, feeling the tears from your gag reflex forming. When you pull back, you see him nearly losing his balance.
Determined to make this unforgettable, you’re willing to suck his very soul out if it means you get to see his face as he cums and hear those incredible moans from him.
Seungcheol’s body tenses, his muscles locking up as the pleasure becomes too much to bear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cries out.
Seungcheol’s entire body convulses, his hips jerking uncontrollably as you milk every drop from him. His eyes roll back, and he lets out a guttural moan, the sound of someone utterly lost in pleasure. You keep sucking him gently, drawing out his orgasm, until he’s left trembling and spent.
When you finally release him, Seungcheol collapses onto the bed, needing to lay down to recover. 
You laugh softly, brushing your fingers through his hair, feeling a rush of pride at the look of utter bliss on his face. His eyes flutter open, and he smiles so wide it makes your heart swell.
He sits up slightly, his hand wrapping around your throat. He grips you gently, his thumb brushing over your skin. You’re caught off guard when he leans in, not giving you just a peck, but sliding his tongue into your mouth. You thought he might find it weird after cumming in your mouth, but he does it without hesitation, moaning at the taste.
You can feel your pussy immediately dripping onto the sheets. His kiss is hungry, filled with gratitude and lingering fascination, and you kiss him back just as fervently, your hands tangling in his hair.
When you finally pull away, you both are breathing heavily.
“Damn, Y/N,” he bites his bottom lip. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”
Seungcheol's eyes roam over your body, and you can see the determination in his gaze. He wants to pay you back, to show you what he can do. Gently, he lifts you onto the bed, laying you down. He positions himself between your legs, his stomach pressed against the mattress. You hear him hiss slightly as his sensitive dick makes contact with the sheets, but his focus remains on you.
“I’ve been studying up on this, Y/N,” he says with a proud smile, like he’s presenting a perfect exam result. “Time to show you what I’ve learned.”
He starts by kissing your inner thighs, his lips soft and teasing against your skin. You shiver, your breath hitching in tension. When his mouth finally reaches your pussy, he doesn't hesitate. His tongue darts out, tasting you for the first time, and he lets out a low, appreciative hum.
“You taste so good,” he says, almost to himself, before diving in.
He licks a long, slow stripe up your slit, his tongue parting your folds and flicking over your clit. You moan, your hips twitching involuntarily. Seungcheol’s hands grip your thighs, holding you firmly in place as he starts to work his tongue with more ambition.
His tongue encircles your clit, teasing and tormenting, before he sucks it into his mouth, creating a delicious pressure that makes you gasp. He alternates between sucking and licking, his mouth hot and insistent. 
You can hear the wet sounds of his mouth on you, mingling with your moans, and it’s driving you even more soaked.
“Oh god, Seungcheol, that feels so good,” you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on. “You’re so good at this, nerd.” you smile looking at him.
He looks up at you eyes light up at the praise. “You like that?” he asks, his voice muffled against your pussy.
“Yes, yes, don’t stop,” you plead.
He continues to be concentrated on you, his eyes sharp and focused, studying every reaction. His tongue flicks over your clit, and your hips buck against his mouth. He smiles against you, clearly pleased with your response.
Seungcheol grins and shifts slightly, bringing his fingers into play. He teases your entrance with one finger before slowly pushing it inside you, curling it just right to hit that sweet spot—finding it embarrassingly fast. You shout, your back arching off the bed.
“Fuck, Seungcheol, just like that,” you pant, your hips grinding against his face.
He adds a second finger, pumping them in and out of you while his mouth continues its assault on your clit. The combination is mind-blowing, and you can feel yourself hurtling towards the edge. His fingers twist and curl inside you, like they're calling you, pressing against your sweet spot, and your moans become louder, more desperate.
“You’re so wet,” he murmurs.. “I can feel you clenching around my fingers.”
“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you beg, your thighs squeezing around his head. 
You feel a bit guilty for trapping him like this, but Seungcheol looks delighted, his thick eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he reads every reaction from your body.
He flicks his tongue over your clit in a rapid, persistent move, his fingers moving in perfect rhythm. The wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of you, combined with the slick noises from his mouth, are almost obscene, but they only heighten your arousal.
“You’re gonna make me cum,” you gasp, your voice breaking. “Don’t stop, Seungcheol, please.”
He doesn’t let up, his tongue and fingers working you with a preciseness that makes your head spin. You can feel the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, ready to snap.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m cumming!” you cry out, your body shuddering violently as the orgasm rips through you.
Seungcheol keeps going, drawing out your orgasm, his fingers curling and his tongue flicking relentlessly. Your moans are loud and broken, your hips grinding against his face as you moan vulgarly, your chest rising as you soak his mouth and face. 
Your body convulses, your thighs squeezing him even tighter, and you scream his name, your voice echoing in the room. He continues to lick and finger you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you’re left shaking and breathless.
Finally, he pulls back, his face shining with your arousal, a pleased smile on his lips. “How was that?”
Your body is still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, and all you can manage is a breathless moan, your hands smudging your face as you try to collect yourself. Seungcheol laughs softly at your reaction.
“I don’t know if I can ride you right now,” you admit, your voice shaking. “I’m still trembling.”
He smirks, a naughty glint in his eyes. “Who said anything about you riding me? I can fuck you just as good, just lay back and let me take care of you.”
The promise in his words makes you clench, and you nod, eager to feel him inside you. He positions himself between your legs, his cock hard and ready. As he lines himself up with your entrance, you can’t help but gasp at the sight of his size.
When he finally pushes inside you, the stretch is both breathless and blissful. His cock fills you completely, the sensation intensified by how wet you are. Your body welcomes him, and he slides in easily, the friction making you moan loudly.
“Oh god, Seungcheol, just like that!” you breathe out, your hands gripping his shoulders.
He lowers his head, his lips brushing against your neck as he begins to move. His kisses are surprisingly sweet for the roughness of his thrusts, and you find the contrast and incredibly hot.
Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he moans, his thrusts becoming more urgent. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more and more.
“Fuck me like you mean it.” you grit through your teeth. 
Seungcheol’s eyes blacken, and he grips your hips, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. You cry out, your head falling back against the pillow, your body jiggling with each strong movement.
 “I’m not stopping until you’re screaming my name,” he promises, and you know he means it.
His thrusts become relentless, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you, your eyes watering. Your moans turn into cries, your mind going blank with pleasure. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and you cling to him, needing him closer.
“Seungcheol, I’m gonna—”
The sudden sound of Seungcheol’s phone ringing startles both of you. “Fuck... no,” he mutters, pulling out of you reluctantly. You almost swallow a sob, your orgasm fading away.
"Answer it," you tell him, your voice steady despite your frustration.
He looks at the caller ID, his face contorting in disgust. "Minji," he says, showing the screen to you. You wave your hand, signaling for him to answer. He does, putting the call on speaker. The fact that he's not hiding it, that he wants you to hear, that he doesn't have a problem with it, is unexpectedly hot.
“Seungcheol?” You roll your eyes at her voice.
“Yeah?” he replies, his tone short and uninterested.
“I... I wanted to talk. Can we meet up?” she asks, her voice faltering.
You sit up silently, your mind racing. Seungcheol answers her shortly, clearly wanting to hang up. As he talks, you get an idea. You crawl over to him, your eyes locked on his as you straddle his lap, your breasts pressing against his face. 
He looks up at you, confused.
“What are you doing?” he whispers, his breath hitching.
“Seungcheol, are you listening to me?” Minji’s voice is impatient, and he can't answer.
You just smile, grabbing his cock and sliding it back inside you as his face contorts in silence, jaw slack as he looks inside your eyes. He bites his lip, trying to stifle a moan as you begin to move, slowly at first, then faster, circling your hips around him.
“Seungcheol? Are you there?” She asks, sounding more desperate now.
He tries to answer, but you start moving, slowly at first, then picking up the pace.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he replies, his voice strained. He places a hand on your hip, trying to steady you as you ride him.
“What are you doing?” her voice cuts through the tension, suspicion clear.
You moan slyly, loudly, not even needing to force it. “Oh, Seungcheol,” you purr, the sound sending a cold lick down his spine. He can't help but moan too, his resolve breaking.
Minji’s voice rises in panic. “Seungcheol, what’s going on? Who’s there with you?”
He can’t help but moan too, gripping your hips tighter. “Don’t talk to me anymore, Minji,” he says, his voice strained with pleasure.
“What the hell is happening? Who is that?!” She's furious.
Seungcheol’s hands grip your hips, his body shuddering with each thrust. “Y/N... I can’t...”
“Just a little more,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss his neck. “Let her hear how good I make you feel.”
He groans, unable to hold back any longer. “Minji, I’m fucking done with you,” he says, his voice shaking. “Don’t call me again!”
You moan again, louder this time, and Seungcheol echoes your sound, his head falling back. 
The call disconnects abruptly, but you don’t stop. 
You ride him harder, feeling him throb inside you, his body tensing as he reaches his peak.
“Y/N, I’m gonna—” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss, swallowing his moans as he comes, his release sending you over the edge as well.
Seungcheol throws the phone aside with a decisive flick of his wrist, his focus entirely on you now—not that he stopped, his mind was imploring for you every second. 
He grips your hips firmly, handling you on his lap with a possessive, almost primal passion, like you’re a fucking doll. The strength of his arms moving you on his lap, makes you gasp, and you abruptly pull away from the kiss, your hand flying to your mouth in a futile attempt to suppress your scream.
It doesn’t work. 
The sound that escapes you is raw and unfiltered—a high-pitched scream that echoes off the walls of the dorm room. You’re cumming all over his cock, your cum spilling over onto his balls and pelvis, the wetness spreading in a deliciously messy explosion.
Seungcheol’s grip tightens, his breathing ragged as he feels the lock of your orgasm. He’s fighting his own demons to keep his eyes open, the pleasure so harsh that it’s almost too much to endure. His eyes are locked on yours, and you see the struggle written all over his face.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans, his voice wasted with overstimulation. His moves become more desperate, desperate to feel every inch of you.
Your body shakes uncontrollably, every muscle tensed as you fight to keep your eyes open, to stay grounded in the moment. You feel the room spinning, the pleasure so intense that it’s almost blinding. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you struggle to stay upright.
You collapse against Seungcheol. He pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a protective, almost desperate grip. Despite his own wavering strength, his desire to hold and shield you is real, overshadowing any fatigue he might be feeling.
With the last of your strength, you gently pull his cock out of you, your movements sluggish. You remain close, still wrapped around him, feeling the warmth and softness of his body against yours. The sensation of his cock slipping free leaves a trail of dampness between you, your orgasms dripping onto his pelvis and the sheets beneath you.
Seungcheol shudders as he feels the wetness spreading across his skin. The soaked feeling on his pelvis, combined with the aftershocks of your orgasm, makes him groan softly. His hands are still firmly clasped around you, his chest rising and falling with each breath.
“Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we just did that while Minji was on the phone.”
You chuckle softly, your exhaustion making your laugh feel weak but genuine. 
Seungcheol lets out a rueful laugh. “I was trying so hard to keep it together while she was talking, and here you are, riding me like there’s no tomorrow.”
You raise an eyebrow playfully. “So, what did she hear exactly? Did she get the full experience or just a taste?”
Seungcheol grins, his cheeks flushing a bit. “Oh, she heard more than a taste. I was trying to get her off the line quickly, but with you going at it like that, I think she caught on pretty fast. She definitely knew something was up.”
“And now she’s probably going to think you’re a total jerk for just hanging up on her like that.”
“To be honest, I was so caught up in how good you were making me feel that I couldn’t even process what she was saying. All I could think about was you.”
The next morning is a whirlwind of frantic activity and poorly disguised attempts to cover up the previous night's larks. As you glance in the mirror, you notice the indicative signs of sex: red, blossoming hickeys on your neck that stubbornly refuse to be concealed. You grab your concealer and try your best to dab and blend, but the more you work, the more obvious it seems.
Seungcheol, on the other hand, is in an equally frantic state. He’s darting around his dorm room, desperately scrubbing away any remaining proof of the night before. He’s juggling a toothbrush in his mouth while trying to hide the hickeys with his hoodie. He eventually settles on a high-collared shirt that looks formal and slightly out of place for a morning class, but it gets the job done.
You rush out of your dorm, barely managing to grab your things before heading to your first class. The entire way there, you catch glimpses of yourself in shop windows and mirrors, each time cringing at how you might still look too happy, too satisfied.
Seungcheol is nearly out of breath by the time he arrives at the hallways, his face flushed—not entirely from exertion, you suspect.
“Did you manage to get rid of all the hickeys?” Seungcheol whispers walking on your side suddenly, as he tries to adjust his collar without drawing too much attention.
“Not even close,” you reply with a wry smile. “I’m basically wearing a turtleneck now, but it’s not foolproof.”
He laughs, a bit too loudly given the circumstances. “Well, at least we look like we’re going somewhere fancy. If anyone asks, just say it’s a new fashion statement.”
You snicker, shaking your head. “I don’t think that’s going to work. I’m just hoping people don’t look too closely.”
As you both ascend the stairs to your respective classes, the early morning hustle is almost forgotten when Seungcheol suddenly grabs your wrist, his eyes darting around to ensure no one is watching. 
The empty stairwell is the perfect backdrop for his next move.
Before you can react, Seungcheol leans in and steals a quick, tender peck from your lips. The unexpected kiss surprises you, and a smile instantly lights up your face. You respond with another, slightly longer kiss.
You pull back slightly, looking at him with a playful glint in your eye. “So, what about tonight?” you ask slyly.
Seungcheol’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Huh?”
You make a theatrical gesture with your hand, tracing a path up and down to your cheek, poking your cheek with your tongue, mimicking the motion of sucking him off. Your naughty movement is clear and provocative.  
Seungcheol's face flushes instantly, his eyes widening as he processes your meaning.
He bites his lip, his eyes locking onto yours with a glint of playful defiance. With a teasing smirk, he lifts his middle fingers, licking them exaggeratedly before curling them inward, making the motion unmistakably obscene.
“Something like this?” he asks, his voice sultry, his eyes never leaving yours. “Think you can handle it tonight?”
You can't help but be taken aback by Seungcheol's bold gesture, your jaw falling slack in surprise. 
“Meet me at the storage room,” you murmur, urgent. “You’re going to finger me there.”
Seungcheol’s eyes widen. “The storage room?” he repeats, his voice a quiet, thrilled whisper, his breath catching slightly.
He thinks then gives you a quick, eager nod, the hint of a smile playing at his lips.
“Sure thing,” he continues. “Can’t wait.”
A birthday one-shot to my cutie pie hahaha 29 years old—I'm crying n'shit. 😭🥺❤️
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pochaccoups · 8 days
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hhu’s love languages (nsfw)
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seungcheol —; biting
oh, how he loves to sink his teeth into your precious skin.
he’ll admit it—it’s a little bit (read: a lot) of a possessive thing. it’s not enough for him to have you face down, ass up, writhing underneath him as he pounds you into tomorrow. he just can’t resist from leaning over you, pressing his broad, sweat-slicked chest to your back, and clamping down on the curve of your neck with his teeth.
it doesn’t help that you say his name so pretty when he does; a breathy, high-pitched moan of two syllables—“cheollie,”—that drives him to insanity.
and it’s not just your neck that falls victim to his bite. it’s his favourite, yes—it’s easily accessible in all of your favourite positions, after all. but no part of you is safe.
when his head is between your legs, he kisses up along your calf, mouths at the fat of your thigh before you feel the soft sting of his teeth sinking into it. only then is he satisfied. only then does he give you what you want: his mouth on your pussy as he eats you out so good it leaves your entire body shaking.
when you’re sat in his lap, bouncing on his cock like a bitch in heat despite the way your thighs burn, his mouth finds your tits like a moth to a flame. they’re sensitive, he knows that, so he’s considerate enough to go a little easier on them, nibbling at the soft skin. he’ll still leave his mark on them, of course, only instead of bite marks he litters your chest with dark little love bites.
he loves nothing more than seeing your reaction to his dirty little habit. when you waddle off to the bathroom and leave him laying there in post-orgasm bliss, a yelp of his name has him grinning and jumping to his feet.
he finds you glaring at the mirror, with your hair a mess and your features flustered from the sight of the perfect teeth indentation on your right shoulder.
“i look like a shark attack survivor! how am i supposed to cover this?” you ask, exasperated.
and the worst thing about choi seungcheol is how hard it is to be mad at him. when he presses himself against you, snakes his arms around your waist, and drops his head to dot kisses all over the mark in question, you find yourself melting into him with an ease like it’s ingrained in you.
eventually, he speaks up, muttering his words into your skin: “don’t cover it.”
wonwoo —; hand holding
wonwoo, your sweet wonwoo. so shy that he gets flustered when you hold his hand in public.
in the dim lighting of your bedroom, though, he’s not so shy. in fact it’s you who’s flustered, your body searing hot, your head spinning from the weight of your boyfriend on top of you.
he’s got you manhandled onto your stomach, kneeling between your spread legs, fucking you like he’s trying to carve the shape of his cock into your very womb. what’s worse is the way his hands, lithe and pretty, take yours, pinning you to the mattress so he can drive his hips harder into you.
“w-wonwoo,” you sob, squeezing and grasping at the fingers that are laced with yours.
“hmm? what’s wrong, pretty girl?” he asks, practically cooing into your ear. “can’t take it?”
“i can,” you whimper, clenching around him, pressing your hips up into his thrusts. to show him.
“yeah, there you go. fuck, take my cock so good, don’t you?”
if you were to try and tell anyone that jeon wonwoo was capable of speaking like this, you’re sure they wouldn’t believe you. the wonwoo who can barely hold your hand in front of others, let alone kiss you? that wonwoo?
it’s the same wonwoo who fucks your face without remorse, who fingers you until you squirt, who eats you out until you can’t feel your legs—that wonwoo. and the best thing about him is that he’ll hold your hand through all of them, even as he abuses your poor cunt, like it’s reassurance. a touch of mercy to remind you he’s still your boyfriend who loves you so much even if he fucks you like an ex.
after all, he is a romantic. what’s more romantic than your pretty boyfriend holding your hands when he’s fucking your brains out?
mingyu —; choking
it may or may not be his habit of playfully grabbing his members by their neck that floods your mind with the idea of being in their place.
you’ve always had a thing for mingyu’s hands, even before you’d started dating him. the sheer size of them, the thickness of his fingers—all of it would have you squeezing your thighs together at just the thought of what he could use them for. (to make you see heaven and above, as you came to find out).
but mingyu is a gentleman in the most literal sense of the word. he’s big, he’s strong, and he compensates for that by treating you like glass. not that he doesn’t fuck you hard when you ask, but putting his hands around your neck is not something that even enters his mind. he’d let himself be struck dead before he’d use his strength to harm you.
fortunately, you’re good at getting your way with him—especially when he’s got his dick buried inside you. every last shred of his rationality goes straight out the window the moment he feels the hot, wet embrace of your pussy around him.
he grabs at your hips, your thighs, your tits; his fingers cling to every inch of your skin to keep himself from falling over the edge of insanity because you’re so fucking tight around him that it’s dizzying.
“gyu,” you moan, and he’s alert in an instant, like a dog called on by its owner, ready for his next command. “choke me?”
his thrusts falter and his features are questioning, yet you don’t miss the way his cock throbs against your walls at your words.
“baby, i don’t know if i should-”
“please, gyu?” you plead, gazing up at him, tightening your thighs where they’re wrapped around your waist. “for me?”
and kim mingyu is many things, but tenacious is not one of them.
when it comes to you he’s hopeless, nothing but a weak fool in love. it’s why he doesn’t stop you when you take him by his wrist and guide his giant hand to sit just above your clavicle. you don’t make him squeeze or anything, you leave that up to him. you just want him to see it, to feel it. to get a glimpse into the fantasy you’ve been keeping from him.
his hips slow, his eyes darkening as he gazes down at you with an affection you’ve never seen from him. gently, his fingers, which almost wrap around the entire circumference of your neck, start to press. it’s barely enough pressure to tickle, but fuck, it’s so hot it sends your eyes rolling back.
suddenly mingyu gets it. adrenaline flushes through his body and goes straight to his cock—it’s a sight he wants etched into his brain forever. your eyes hazy, a tiny, content smile on your kiss-swollen lips, his massive hand gripping your neck as he fucks you with a new kind of fervour. he gets it, and he can’t believe he didn’t get it sooner.
you can see it clearly—how, in just a matter of time, he’ll have his forehead pressed to yours, his cock grazing the spot that has you seeing stars over and over while his hand cuts off your airflow, choking you hard, the way you’ve always wanted.
vernon —; spitting
is it cliche and predictable to assign him this? maybe. but what if he’s not the one doing the spitting?
he’s a little bit obsessed with letting you do what you want with him. it’s not a dom or sub thing—vernon’s an easygoing guy in all aspects of life, and if you feel like sitting in his lap and making out with him until you’re both gasping for air, the last thing he’ll do is complain.
his favourite thing of all is when you ride him. fuck, everything about you is mesmerising; the way you grind your hips over his cock so expertly, the way you brace your hands against his chest, letting your nails rake into his skin ever so often, the way your head tips backwards and your moans spill out in the sweetest song.
vernon gazes up at you like you put the stars in the sky, like you brought about life itself, like he can’t believe he’s the one who gets to see you like this. his eyes, dark, round, and glimmering, are a picture of how enamoured he is with you. he has no idea how crazy it drives you.
it’s natural the way your hand reaches for his cheek, the way your thumb moves to glide over his lips, soft and puffy. vernon falls in love for the millionth time when you dip it inside his mouth, push it gently against his tongue, gathering up his spit on the tip of your finger. it makes his dick jump to be at your mercy like this. his hips buck up into yours, desperate to drive himself even deeper into the addictive heat of your cunt.
you press his mouth open, just slightly, just enough, and lean forward. a pearl of your saliva, of you, lands in the centre of his tongue, and he doesn’t have time to swallow it before your mouth finds his, kissing him with greed. it’s messy—lips smacking, your moans mingling with his, but the thing about vernon is that you cannot get enough of him. even though he’s inside you and you’re skin to skin with and your mouths are connected.
you pull away, your grin cat-like, your attention shifting back to the stretch of his cock as you bounce up and down him with a newfound desperation.
“god, you’re hot,” he whispers, his own lips quirking into a fucked-out smile.
“yeah? you like it when i spit in your mouth, hansollie? so dirty,” you reply.
he doesn’t last much longer after that.
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paegei · 8 months
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MOANER, GROANER, OR WHIMPERER ?
what sounds do the seventeen members make in bed ?
NSFW CONTENT ! MDNI !
a/n: GUYS i am so sorry i haven't written in so long ╯︿╰ i lose motivation for things VERY easily. anywho,,, if anyone has any requests or anything feel free to send them in ! ( just be prepared for me to take my time to respond ϵ( ‘Θ’ )϶ )
MOANER:
jeonghan:
when i tell you this man has the PRETTIEST moans i mean it. borderline angelic. every noise that comes out of his mouth has you on the verge of orgasm LITERALLY. he's upstaging you i'm sorry !
joshua:
the things i would do to hear him moaning.... 28:50 of the youngji interview is EMBEDDED in my brain. def more on the quiet side, his moans are pretty low in volume, but he is for SURE right next to your ear cuz he knows how much his moans affect you.
jun:
pathetic moans. PATHETIC. loud, whiny, GUTTURAL moans. he also has no shame. and i mean that. does not care how loud he's being. he has to let you know how good you make him feel, who cares about who hears ? also def makes those ah- ah- ah- sounds before he cums
minghao:
hao's moans are like josh's, low in volume but close enough for you to hear. gives me the vibes of someone who doesn't make much noise in bed, he prefers to focus on your blabbering, but when his sounds grace your ears, it is HEAVENLY. ( his moans are borderline whimpers too just saying )
seungkwan:
DEEP. DEEP. SO DEEP. yk that one good to me performance where he said "make some noise" in his deep ass voice ? yeah, that's his tone in bed. moans coming straight from the chest LAWDDDDDD. was pretty shy at first when it came to making noise, but after seeing how badly it affected you ( because who wouldn't go insane hearing them ), he just goes AT IT. unless he's in sub mode and is borderline sobbing
GROANER:
seungcheol:
bro. words could not describe how hot this man sounds ( i would know we're actually married ). GUTTERAL groaning. genuinely sounds like he is working out >︿< lets out a groan every time he pulls out, followed by a whimper when he shoves his cock back in :/
wonwoo:
practically inaudible with how deep his groans are. all you would be able to hear is this deep grumble. rarely likes making sounds in bed as he prefers to be all ears for your moans, but hey, sometimes good sex makes a man whimper okay there's nothing wrong with that :3
vernon:
kinda like jun, in the aspect that his groans have a pathetic tilt to them. every sound he makes, no matter how hard he tries to keep them in, just ends up sounding absolutely RUINED. im talking you'd think he was crying from how desperate he sounds ( maybe he is who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )
chan:
he's right on the barrier between groans and gasps. OMLLLL HIS LITTLE GASP WHEN HE FIRST SLIPS IN !!!!!!!!!!! no shame either he wants to let the whole world know he's getting the best pussy of his LIFE. anime girl ~gah~ kinda noises IM SORRY
WHIMPERER:
jihoon:
dooooont care what you think. he WHIMPERS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! his whimpers are very low in volume however, he knows that if the guys ever found out the little noises he makes for you he would be a goner. tries his hardest to hold the whines back, much to your dismay, but at least then you get the gorgeous sight of him biting his lip till it bleeds (/▽\)
seokmin:
man does not care how embarrassing his sounds are he NEEDS you to know how good you feel. he is the EPITONE of whimpers. men be afraid to moan in their girls ear, but seokmin is sobbing out "f-fuck oh m- oh my god- 's good, 's good-" and other barely audible curses :3
mingyu:
his whimpers are WET sorrynotsorry. im saying he's borderline drooling. dumb puppy can't help it if your cunt feels so good :( sobs, cries, just the most desperate and shaky words tumbling from his mouth ( if he can still form words is a different story ).
ALL OF THE ABOVE:
soonyoung:
does not give a FUCK what noise he is making, he's just going for it. somehow sounds like whimpers, cries and growls all in one ?? also yes 80% of the time he is growling but are we suprised. just says any word that comes to his mind too. bro does nawt understand why people hold in their moans... if it feels good, it feels good you know ?
not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ ̄ 3 ̄)づ
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heavnlydino · 1 month
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Dino is the definition of pocketsized😭
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