ctrl+coups @ctrlcoups - Tumblr Blog

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐟𝐭. 𝐜.𝐬𝐜

>>> the roommate one

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

pairings : c.sc x f!reader (main) and k.mg x f!reader (side)

summary : seungcheol and y/n have been roommates for seven months and have been flirting gently the entire time, but a crush becomes so much more when seuncgheol invites y/n to a party (side relationship: k.mg x reader)

genre/tags : college au, non-idol au, roommates to lovers, kind of love triangle, frat member!c.sc, frat member!k.mg

word count : 4.7k

warnings : mdni | nsfw (specifics under cut)

Warnings: explicit language, multiple sexual partners mentioned, fingering, penetrative sex, cream pie, implied squirting, prep and v!streatching

Seungcheol wasn’t the roommate you’d signed up for.

He was more like the roommate who seemed to know exactly how to bug you every single day.

He moved your yogurt.

He left little notes about your car being parked on a double yellow.

Which - okay - like maybe that was helpful, but the little smiley face was smug.

You were halfway through your Thursday poly sci class when he texted you.

[choi - maths grp]

busy?

[y/n]

in class

[choi - maths grp]

so busy

[y/n]

whats up???

[choi - maths grp]

party come pls

You stared at your phone for a moment.

[y/n]

r u txting the right number

[choi - maths grp]

yes y/n texting on purpose

You watched more dots appear. And disappear. And appear again. Then stop.

You wondered what those dots were. Because so far the conversation seemed improbable.

Seungcheol didn’t invite you out.

He left notes about swapping your laundry. Or borrowed your coffee mugs and didn’t tell you - you’d been certain your favorite mug with dancing bears had disappeared into another timeline.

Until you caught him walking around with it - he’d just purloined it like some sticky-fingered kid in a shopping mall. He was brazen. And unapologetic. And a dick head.

He didn’t text you about parties.

He took up the entire sofa for days, playing video games. Loudly.

He stole your delivery food. Or the little extra wontons for your soup at least.

He sometimes poked your cheek if you were passed out anywhere openly, asking things like ‘do you want to go to your room?’

No. No, you didn’t.

Not to mention the few times you’d come home with dates.

The look on his face the first time he’d opened the door to you making out with the guy from your life drawing class - an unbelievably beautiful guy who’d been modeling for the class, and you couldn't help but to flirt with him - it was basically your duty.

Seungcheol had opened the door, thinking that you’d knocked, not knowing that the sounds were you being manhandled against the door and bumping the handle. He’d found you breathing hard into some other guy’s mouth and well on your way to being deliciously wet.

You’d stopped for a moment, looking back - you’d seen the surprised look that quickly became something else. But you weren’t sure what because he’d disappeared into his room, leaving the door standing open. You’d shrugged and pulled sexy model boy inside - the sex was painfully good and even better in the morning.

And Seungcheol didn’t talk to you for six days after the door incident.

You’d assumed it was just him not realizing that you might, in fact, fuck.

But when it happened the second time - the not talking after you’d had someone over (model guy again) - your friend had actually stopped you mid-complaining to suggest that maybe it was because Seungcheol had a thing for you.

You’d stopped entirely then. “What?”

She’d rolled her eyes. “Think about it, he’s normally like noisy and cute and whatever and every time you have a guy over —“

“He’s not some guy - he’s gorgeous—“

“Yeah, okay, but you’ve been complaining for the last three days about why Seungcheol won’t talk to you…” She’d trailed off.

“Right, but what’s your point?”

She’d narrowed her eyes for a moment. “Seriously? Are you dense? I’m saying he’s jealous.”

“Jealous?”

˚⟡˖ ࣪

‘Jealous’ had at least stuck with you enough for you to experiment.

You waited a few weeks, and Seungcheol did slowly return to himself, mostly. He still seemed a little reserved. He didn’t stay planted in the shared spaces quite as hard. He went out with friends more than before.

Or maybe you just noticed that he was out.

Which seemed to suggest that you should be out too. So you messaged a friend who was literally always available.

Mingyu was the definition of ‘u up?’ As in, he never said ‘no’ and some people might be annoyed with his lack of commitment, but to you, it was one of his cutest qualities. Because even if he were with someone else, he’d text to say ‘not tonight xx’.

He was too pretty to be upset with.

And you were lucky the night you texted because he was going out and was solo.

He’d come by to have a drink while you finished getting ready. Which may have led to you making out with him in your bathroom. His mouth warm and sweet on yours. You groaned softly, pulling his hair. And feeling his big, amazing hands squeeze your ass and thighs, and gods the way he picked you up so easily to set you on the edge of your sink, and feeling him between your thighs was just so good. You but his lip in appreciation and made him gasp softly.

“Mmmh, so perfect,” you’d mumbled, barely rolling your hips against him, feeling the way he was already getting hard. You smiled softly, kissing his cheek, letting him pull your hips closer to his.

“Don’t stop,” he whispered against your throat.

You nodded, loving how wet you already were.

But then you’d heard the apartment door open.

You’d paused for a moment, listening for Seungcheol to call out.

“Finally found a roommate?” Mingyu asked, voice soft.

You’d nodded. “Yeah, Choi Seungcheol—“

“Who?” Mingyu had asked quickly, eyes wide.

You watched him for a moment because he really was, well, unflappable. He’d felt you up during an intro presentation in your first year - sitting in the back row with him was simultaneously amazing and bad because you never paid attention to the lecture.

And now he looked concerned.

You bit the tip of your tongue. “Choi Seungcheol,” you answered in a whisper.

He blinked. “Seriously?”

You could feel him pulling away. You grabbed his shirt. “Mingyu,” you hissed softly.

“We’re friends, like I know him—“

“And?”

“I — I just can’t, okay,” he said it like something final. His voice was still soft, still him.

But there was clearly no more you and him in that exact way you had been. Unless it was to study or something. And it was a bit annoying to have your standing date (fuck) suddenly have reservations.

Plus you hadn’t even gotten to see Seungcheol’s reaction because Mingyu had left out your window and used the fire escape. It had just been a confusing night for you.

˚⟡˖ ࣪

And now you had even more confusing texts staring up at you from your phone.

You poked gently at the screen, keeping it from going black and mirroring your own confusion back to you. Class was almost over, you considered.

But a text inviting you to a party was - it at least confirmed Seungcheol really did party to some degree. Because the only proof you were aware of was on insta. Mainly through mutual friends because you’d never really decided if following him was normal or not.

Especially when he didn’t follow you.

He never had anyone over outside of whoever he talked to while gaming - instead, you just saw him appear on your timeline with people you knew generally.

Him and his thick lashes and pouty lips…pinky, pouty lips that you’d thought about biting just enough to make him gasp.

And his dimples. His very cute dimples that appeared when he said little smart ass things. Like punctuation to let you know he was 88% kidding.

He did usually look like he was having fun, though, grinning and drinking and posing in goofy ways…cute ways.

You tapped your screen again, sighing, reading the conversation through again. The last message before the invite was him telling you there was coffee for you after you’d been up studying late earlier in the week.

You sighed again and wondered why he couldn’t just send a dick pic. Or at least stop wandering around the apartment in gym shorts and tank tops that gave you too many opportunities to gaze a little too long at his collarbones and think about the delicate skin there, the way sweat gravitated to them, highlighting them annoyingly.

You’d spent more time than you ought thinking about how it would feel to taste his sweat after one of his long trips to the gym. Worse was wondering if he even let things like kitten licks happen. And then there was the maddeningly persistent thought that landing just one good smack across his perfect bum would solve all your problems and give you dewy, clear skin until he probably chased you down to spank you in retaliation or something equally enjoyable.

He was genuinely annoying to live with.

You sighed.

[y/n]

wheree is it?

˚⟡˖ ࣪

You’d left class and gone home to change into something cuter than what you’d worn to class.

The apartment was empty. Just afternoon sunlight filtering in through the old factory glass and warming the floorboards.

You’d paused for a moment outside his closed bedroom door, listening, knowing he wasn’t there. You’d never even looked inside.

You chewed your lip lightly, your fingers inching closer to the door knob.

Maybe if you knew what the thread count of his sheet were, you could make an informed decision, you thought as you opened the door.

His room had an entire wall of slightly frosted windows that looked out onto the river behind the apartments. There was the ubiquitous scent of old wood and something very him that reminded you of dry wood and fresh citrus - tender flesh you could sink your teeth into so easily and juices that would drip down your chin and collect in the hollow of your throat even if the tartness made your eyes water - the watering would just be a different kind of ecstasy.

Your gaze flicked around quickly taking in the bed, his desk, the bright blue headset for gaming…some manga on a shelf.

And then back to the bed because of the plushie sitting there - big and shaped like a character you’d didn’t know. You’d literally never seen this. And you’d been there when he moved in.

You’d seen the orchid plant that was now near the windows, flowering creamy white petals, and his desktop computer, and a suitcase.

Which all seemed to fit with Jeonghan’s description of a friend who “just needs some place that’s mostly quiet.”

The plushie was something else, though.

You’d lived with him for seven months and had no clue.

You stood still for a moment, looking at the heavy duvet covering his bed and the way sunlight fell across it, making it instantly inviting - and the plush pillows that would tell you exactly what Seungcheol’s real scent was like, and where his inky, black hair fanned out softly…and then there was the plushie that looked like an odd sort of boy character.

You puffed your cheeks and considered that maybe your manga reading should expand beyond vampires and toxic dynamics.

You were quiet as you stood still, feeling the soft warmth of the room.

You felt your phone vibrate in your hand. You already had the address, so you ignored it for the moment, stepping back into the main apartment and closing his door gently behind you.

˚⟡˖ ࣪

The party was in one of the big, old Victorian mansions near campus that no one had ever bothered to convert, because fraternities needed all of the approximately 324.5 rooms for activities and housing.

It was the ‘blue’ house for obvious reasons.

You’d definitely been to the house for parties during your first year and some in your second year. The Chi-Rho* members were known for good parties - good themes - good formal events - good drinks - and generally nice.

You literally couldn’t remember ever having seen Seungcheol, which didn’t mean a lot, since the Upsilon chapter was pretty massive.

You walked in through the open front door. There was music already, more alternative than what they played for parties - chill EDM was for the daytime - and a sunny day called for mashup tracks and deeper cuts with slower beats, apparently.

It was a vibe, walking through half-empty rooms, old floors creaking gently as you moved.

But there were people to notice you, no matter how gently they looked as you passed.

It felt slightly off.

You decided quickly that if you didn’t find Seungcheol in 90 seconds, you were leaving.

You could see him later.

Literally anytime.

It reminded you why you’d stopped coming to parties. Clubs were always better because there were those quiet pockets in all of the loudness and just enough darkness to feel like it was your own world. Frat world was always on view.

Besides, it wasn’t like Seungcheol had magically texted you to convey some deep meaning.

Not at a frat house. Or if he did, that alone was questionable.

You paused, glancing around again, not seeing him or anyone familiar.

It had definitely been longer than 90 seconds.

You turned quickly on your heel, walking out.

Outside you could breathe again.

˚⟡˖ ࣪

You were already in the cab when you messaged him.

[y/n]

srry forgot i have a group study thing [...]

see u later tho?

You’d tacked the last line on because…because you did want to see him.

Just not there. Not in the context of frat dude meets girl; frat dude and girl chat; frat dude and girl kiss; frat dude and girl are ‘awwwww, omg.’

You went home and showered. No opening his door or anything. Just a long, warm shower and then lying in bed pretending to watch a show that people kept saying you should watch.

You ordered food.

You would have normally maybe texted Mingyu on a night like this to at least contemplate going out.

Or maybe life model guy…he was really fun and so shockingly gorgeous. You checked his insta first to see if he was dating anyone.

“Nope,” you whispered, tapping back to your messages with him.

You scrolled back in the conversation, remembering that he was sweet - he didn’t leave you coffee, but he was like Mingyu in a way, easy, no anxiety, just the ease of someone you could spend a night with or a weekend, and just enjoy the feeling - that he liked falling asleep holding you close and waking up slowly.

You didn’t know what Seungcheol was like, clearly. And you hadn’t checked messages to see what his reply was, even though it had come almost immediately.

You were too embarrassed to check it. Maybe tomorrow, you thought as you watched the delivery driver moving around in nonsensical ways on the map until it was frustrating.

Or maybe sooner, because you don’t really feel like pretending you were sleeping.

You clicked in. It wasn’t like you had read receipts on like some deranged person.

[choi - maths grp]

no worries […]

see u at home?

You stared for a moment because it was so normal.

But so was your excuse.

You sighed and almost laughed. It was…what? you wondered.

[y/n]

hey thinking about going out […]

u still up

You watched for 0.4 seconds before jamming your phone under your pillow because, of course, he wouldn’t respond. Or he would, and it would be weird.

And then your phone buzzed - it was slightly muffled by your pillow but unmistakable.

You approached it gently, freeing it from your pillow and opening it like it might explode Inspector-Gadget-style…comedically.

[choi - maths grp]

yea […]

Up but would rather be […]

want to be home […]

in bed

You watched the texts slowly populating and almost wanted to laugh. At least from what you knew, Seungcheol could drink. And this was the halting, second-guessing of a first year at their first party.

[y/n]

need a ride?

[choi - maths grp]

no waiting

[y/n]

for a ride?

[choi - maths grp]

for mingyu […]

he’s being depressing

Your brows scrunched together because since when was Mingyu depressing, especially while drinking - he and alcohol just became more positive in your experience. And since when was Seungcheol in the same universe as Mingyu...

[y/n]

depressing?

You saw dots a few times. And then nothing.

But it wasn’t really your business - in that way that you knew you weren't going to get an answer.

You messaged life model guy and asked if he was going out (yes) and could you join (always).

You did some quick makeup and slicked your hair back into a tight pony and threw on a black mini dress with long sleeves, and black platform sandals, and locked the door behind you.

˚⟡˖ ࣪

When the lift doors opened, there was no escaping the fact that Seungcheol was there, waiting for the lift and looking acutely drunk.

“Hey,” he mumbled, as he stepped into the lift.

“Hey,” you responded, waiting to see if he hit the right button for your floor.

He didn’t make a move. “Going out?”

You nodded. “I was.”

“You mean you are,” he corrected.

“You haven’t even picked our floor yet,” you answered.

“Which means?”

You shook your head, leaning to hit the button. “That I should maybe make sure you get inside,” you offered.

He shrugged, silence settling between you and him. And just as the doors were opening, he suddenly added a new fact. “He likes you.”

You walked through the doors, glancing at him. “What? Who?”

“He likes you - Mingyu - he told me that’s why he’s been so weird.”

You couldn’t help staring at him. Or the fact that you were at a loss for words beyond the obvious. “What?” You asked for the second time.

Seungcheol walked past you and down the hall. You had to catch him because he’d turned in the wrong direction.

“Seriously, what are you talking about?”

He was walking in the right direction this time. “I said it clearly, didn’t I?” He asked as he jammed his key into the door lock and began turning it and jiggling it when it didn’t give way.

You walked behind and tried to help with his keys, but it turned into a kind of shoving match = the drunk versus the bewildered and well-intentioned - his side shoving yours and yours against his and it was altogether childish.

But the door did finally swing open with the weight of two people pushing it. And you both tumbled inside. You felt your knee make hard contact with the floor and paused breidly to breathe through the discomfort.

Seungcheol was just lying there, staring at the ceiling.

You moved to sit up and could immediately tell that icing your knee would be smart. You reached over, poking Seungcheol’s shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

He nodded. “Fine.”

You waited for a moment, but he wasn’t forth coming with additional information. So you got up to find a bag of frozen cherries you kept and used as an ice pack.

“Are you okay?”

You heard him from behind you. You didn’t bother to turn back as you wrapped the pack of cherries in a towel. “Mhmm, just fine.”

“Then why are you getting your ‘ice pack’?” He asked it from the floor and had the gall to use quote fingers when he said ‘ice pack’.

“Look they were recalled for eating, not as a cold object,” you shot back - this was not the first time the frozen cherries had been questioned.

“So why do you need your cold object then?”

“Because I fell and hit my knee - okay?”

“Okay, whatever.”

You were on the couch now, knee iced. You texted Mr.-Life-Model about your knee. He was sweet and asked if you needed anything. You thought for a moment, weighing the option of complaining about Seungcheol or just leaving things.

[ L M ]

fr […]

could kiss it better

You smiled because it was a sweet offer.

[y/n]

i want to say yes […]

but i know i’m in a pissy mood

[ L M ]

even more reason

You heard Seungcheol get up and immediately hid your phone in the sofa cushions.

“Hey,” you called, turning back, not realizing he was walking towards you. You flushed slightly. “Are you actually okay?” you asked, hoping for a less asinine answer.

He came and sat on the floor next to your knee. He didn’t answer.

Instead, he caught your ankle gently and started unbuckling the strap on your shoe.

You said nothing. Just watched the careful way he removed the shoe and the way he lifted the makeshift ice pack to see the purple bulge that was forming.

“Gross,” he mumbled.

And that took you out of anything. “Thanks - I was trying to help you when I fell—“

He glanced up. “You know it looks gross, and you’re annoyed that I would dare to characterize it—“

“You know, why are you so articulate anyway?”

“I’m drunk, not dumb.” He concluded, staring hard at you.

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

He sighed. “All but.”

This wasn’t how you wanted any part of your night to go.

You winced when his thumb grazed over the bump. It vaguely reminded you that he was pre-something, maybe pre-med or possibly pre-law. Regardless, he was gentle in replacing the ice pack. And then he got up again and started rustling around.

You started to turn back to your texts when he returned and knelt down to pick up your leg to put a pillow under your knee.

“Elevation helps and alternating heat and ice,” he added.

You were starting to feel tired. “Okay, I’ll do that, Dr. Choi.”

“I’ve met you - you definitely won’t - you’ll fall asleep in like ten minutes and complain about cherry juice on your dress tomorrow.”

You pursed your lips because he wasn’t totally wrong, but the presumption was annoying. He sighed and knelt again, removing your remaining shoe. And then he paused gently, like he was deciding something important.

And you felt the way his fingers traced softly along your calf.

You watched him lean closer and closer, but you weren’t expecting his lips to make contact with your good knee.

His lips were warm and unexpected. “Do you like him?”

You stared for a moment and realized he meant Mingyu. “As a friend, very much…”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “That’s not what I meant.”

“That’s my best answer.”

He pressed his lips into a tight line before leaning down again and letting his cheek rest on your thigh. You didn’t think when you smoothed his long bangs off his forehead, smoothing them back towards his ear.

“You came too and you left,” he muttered.

You nodded. “It was too loud.”

He leaned up. “And a club isn’t?”

“No one knows me—“

“Everyone knows you.”

“Fine, but clubs are dark, I can’t see them looking at me - it’s different.”

He huffed. “You could've just said.”

His voice had softened.

And he was right, you probably could have told him the truth.

You reached out, letting your fingers catch under his jaw, watching him tip his chin just right for your fingers to glide along his skin.

He caught your hand, leaning in, his lips connecting with your palm. And your wrist. You moaned quietly at the feeling of his lips against your skin.

And when he stopped and sat up, he paused, watching you for a moment before moving to stand and pick you up.

You were quick to throw your arm around his neck. You didn’t ask which room you were going to - you waited. Watching as you drew closer to his door and his room.

˚⟡˖ ࣪

It could have been a surprise when he sat you on the end of his bed. But it wasn’t.

Or when he leaned in, kissing you warmly and the easy way that warmth became almost hungry. But it wasn’t.

You kissed him back, wanting him too much to comment on how unsurprising he was.

He was gentle when he undressed you, though, his fingers finding the zip of your dress and carefully peeling it away, letting it drop off the end of the bed. You gave him a small push and watched him sit back and slowly pull off his shirt, revealing all the smooth, perfect skin, his well-muscled chest and stomach - you couldn’t help biting your lip or reaching for him, wanting him.

He leaned close, your left arm went around his shoulders, your fingertips teasing the muscle there, as your right hand wandered down his side and low stomach, finding the button and zipper of his jeans, undoing each.

You felt the way he barely broke the kiss, the sudden heat of his breath against his skin. “We could just sleep,” he mumbled the thought.

You let your hand slide down the front of his underwear, feeling how hard he was for you. “But there’s this,” you whispered, squeezing him just enough to hear the catch in his breath. He nodded. “Right,” he breathed in agreement against your throat.

He moved off the end of the bed, pushing off his jeans and catching your ankle, pulling you down the bed and close.

And then his thumb was stroking you through your panties, tracing a line between your pussy lips, feeling the way you parted under the fabric.

“So wet,” he whispered, looking at what he was doing before glancing up at you, his lips kissed red and his gaze hungry.

You smiled, hooking your ankles at his low back. “Just for you.”

He hummed in response, working your panties to the side.

“He likes you too - bet we could test who really makes you wet, kitten,” he whispered as his fingers plunged in. You gasped hard, your fingertips digging into his duvet as he found the pace he wanted - quick, but his two fingers opening inside you with every thrust - and then he added the third, and you came, gasping and moaning.

He was slower with three fingers, but still prepping you, stretching you with every move. You whined softly as he opened his fingers wider. “Yes - fuck, please,” you babbled.

The second time was just as intense as the first.

And then he was taking off his underwear, climbing onto the bed with you, and stroking his dick a few times. He lined up with you, teasing your opening, wetting himself before finally pushing in all the way.

You both groaned. Your hands found his arms, squeezing hard until he bottomed out.

You listened to the ragged way he breathed. And when he ducked down to kiss you, his lips were so good. You liked it, wanting everything. “Love how you feel,” he whispered.

You nodded. “Same,” you added, watching him above you, the way he focused on you, the way his brows knitted as he started to move.

“Yeah?” He asked between breaths.

You nodded. “Yeah, Cheol,” you answered, hooking your legs tighter around his waist.

He pressed his forehead to yours, going deep with every thrust. You shivered and moaned, wanting more and more.

He groaned and sat up, changing positions - him on his knees, he pulled your right leg over his shoulder, and every thrust hit just right. You could barely breathe.

And the sounds you made. You were glad when you felt his thumb press between your lips. “Shhh, kitten, the neighbors,” he managed, still thrusting.

You sucked and licked his thumb, happy to feel it, the pad of his thumb pressing gently against your tongue. His hips were working harder against you with every thrust now - the soft slap of his body against yours.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he said through gritted teeth, glancing up at you. You nodded, hoping he knew it was the same for you.

He changed positions again, picking up both your legs. You didn’t even think when you pulled the pillow down and pressed your face into the side to stop the sounds of your moans. Every move he made was hitting that perfect spot inside you, you could feel the pressure building so sweet and good and amazing, and then the sudden wave and your pussy fluttering and squeezing around him as you came and came and his moan as he let go inside you, filling you.

He let your legs drop slowly to the side before leaning over you, kissing you while you both came down from a delicious high.

Everything else could wait, as you fell asleep together.

˚⟡˖ ࣪

a/n: thx for reading with me ^^ btw I don’t actually seungcheol would be joking about finding out who makes the mc wetter because him using his fingers to get her to be quiet - that’s just in places of what mingyu could do if he were there

there may be additional parts because mingyu history + threesome but also who knows

Okie ^^

master list [ here ] | tag list [ maybe ]

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

ctrl+coups