pairings: baseball player!dokyeom x sports anchor!reader
genre: fluff, secret dating, kissing
word count: 880
minnie's note: inspired from the lovely couple jasprit bumrah and sanjana ganesan 🫶🏻💗
mid-summer heat sticks to everything like it owns the place.
the stadium is half-empty now, but the air is still thick with the ghost of a thousand cheers and the smell of expensive popcorn. the lights are still blazing too bright for how late it is—the kind of artificial brightness that makes everything feel a little unreal, like the win might just disappear if you blink too hard.
you adjust your mic even though it’s already perfectly fine. it’s just something to do with your hands to keep the nerves from showing.
“we’re live in twenty,” your producer’s voice crackles through your earpiece, sharp and professional. “and y/n—try not to smile at him too much this time.”
you breathe out a quiet laugh, your eyes scanning the field. “i don’t smile at him differently.”
it’s a lie, and you both know it.
across the dirt, dokyeom is still in full uniform, the white fabric stained with grass and sweat. there’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek that looks like it belongs there, a badge of honor from his walk-off slide. he’s laughing with his teammates, throwing an arm around the catcher’s neck, but then he looks up.
his eyes find yours across the distance, and just like that, the rest of the stadium fades into a blur of grey seats and green grass.
he jogs over. of course he does. he never makes you wait.
“anchor y/n,” he greets, slightly out of breath. his grin is already too bright, more blinding than the stadium floodlights.
“player dokyeom,” you reply smoothly, falling into the rhythm of your shared secret. “please try not to embarrass me on live tv.”
he leans in just an inch—close enough that you can smell the salt of his skin and the faint scent of his laundry detergent. “no promises.”
you give him a warning look, the one that usually makes interns scramble. he just looks delighted by it.
“we go live in ten,” you say, checking the camera op.
“i know,” he says, and the way he says it makes it feel like a challenge.
the red light on the camera flickers to life.
your voice shifts instantly—steady, warm, practiced. the persona you’ve spent years building.
“good evening from a packed stadium where tonight’s game ended in dramatic fashion,” you begin, turning slightly toward him. “i’m here with lee dokyeom, who secured the win with a ninth-inning walk-off home run.”
you angle the mic toward him, keeping a professional distance that feels like a mile. “take us through that final at-bat. what were you seeing out there?”
he takes the mic from your hand, his fingers brushing yours for a fraction of a second. he doesn't look at the camera. he doesn't look at the thousands of people watching at home.
he looks at you.
“honestly?” he says casually, his voice dropping into that rich, warm tone he only uses when the world isn't listening. “i was just thinking i didn’t want the night to end too early.”
the crowd noise swells somewhere behind you, a distant roar, but it feels a million miles away. you keep your expression professional. barely.
“that’s… not very baseball-focused,” you reply, trying to steer him back to the script.
he hums, a low sound in his chest. “it is for me.”
a beat. the silence stretches a second too long for a live broadcast.
you continue, your voice steadying itself through sheer willpower. “you’ve been on a twelve-game hitting streak. any changes in your routine lately?”
he nods slowly, looking thoughtful, though the mischief in his eyes gives him away.
“yeah,” he says. “i look up before every inning now.”
your grip on the mic tightens slightly. you shouldn't ask. you know exactly what he’s doing.
“any particular reason?”
his gaze flickers—just for a second—to the press box high above the stands. then it snaps back to your face.
“there’s a view up there,” he says lightly, “that helps me focus.”
you should move on. you should talk about the standings or the next road trip. you don't.
“must be a nice view,” you say carefully.
his smile softens into something real, something private. “yeah. the best.”
and something about the way he says it makes your heart feel loud in your own ears, drumming a rhythm that has nothing to do with the heat.
“and we’ll leave it there,” you finish smoothly, looking back to the lens. “back to the studio.”
the second the red light cuts—everything changes.
the tension in your shoulders snaps. dokyeom steps closer immediately, entering your personal bubble without hesitation. “did i say something wrong?”
you glare at him, but there’s no real heat in it. “you basically flirted with a national broadcast audience, lee dokyeom.”
he blinks, looking far too innocent for a man who just dismantled your composure. “i did?”
“you said you look at the press box. everyone knows that’s where i sit for the first eight innings.”
he pauses, then smiles like he’s guilty on purpose. “oh. that.”
you sigh, looking away to hide the flush creeping up your neck. “the internet is going to be insane.”
“let it,” he says easily.
you shake your head, flipping through your notes even though the ink is blurring before your eyes. “you’re unbelievable.”
“you’re still coming after this, right?” he asks. the playfulness is gone, replaced by a quiet hope that always gets to you.
you glance up. he’s already watching you like he knows the answer, like he can see right through the blazer and the microphone to the girl who’s been pining for him since spring training.
“your ‘media obligations’?” you tease.
“very serious ones,” he says solemnly, though his eyes are dancing. “highly confidential. involves food. maybe a milkshake.”
you try not to smile. you fail a little.
“…yeah,” you say. “i’m coming.”
his expression softens instantly, his whole body relaxing. “good,” he says quietly.
there’s a beat where neither of you move away. the stadium noise hums around you, distant and irrelevant. the cleanup crew is starting to move through the aisles, but it feels like you're under a private spotlight.
he shifts slightly closer.
“you know,” he starts, his voice lower now, shadowed by the brim of his cap. “i was going to wait until we weren’t surrounded by cameras and people and… all of this.”
you blink, your breath catching. “dokyeom—”
but he’s already stepping in. one hand lifts, careful, his fingers grazing the line of your jaw—a question asked without words. you don't pull away.
and then he kisses you.
it’s quick. soft. it tastes like the salt of the game and the lingering sweetness of the sports drink he was chugging minutes ago. it’s more certain than surprising, like he’s been holding it back for a long time and just finally decided the world could wait.
when he pulls back, he’s still close enough that you can feel his breath against your lips.
“sorry,” he says immediately, though he looks like the happiest man in the league. “i just—i’ve been wanting to do that since the third inning.”
you stare at him, your professional image lying in pieces at your feet. then you exhale a laugh that ruins whatever is left of it.
“you are impossible,” you say.
his grin returns, brighter than the stadium lights, brighter than the win.
“yeah,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours. “but i’m your impossible.”
your phone buzzes in your pocket again—probably the producer, probably a hundred notifications about the 'press box' comment. the world is trying to interrupt something it already lost control of.
you don't look at it yet.
because for once, the cameras are off, the lights don't matter—and he’s still right there.
Words: 2k. Summary: You have taken on a new role in the Safe Haven and it has Gally's attention.
Note: This was an idea I have had for a while. I think this could be a series. I have a second part in mind that could be smutty, but could also just be sweet. Some feedback would be appreciated. Thank you.
Someone referred to them as ‘the Lost Children’, the many kids rescued from WICKED headquarters who wandered around the Safe Haven with fear wordless on their tongues, but wonder flashing in their eyes. It could be hard to watch them as they tried to piece together a new life with even less certainty than the timorous adults around them who were mostly making it up as they go. Vince suggested you take on a teacher role for them.
“Everyone’s role is important here, but maybe that’s what you’re being called to do…” He countered when you worried that you would be leaving the other cooks high and dry.
At first, you rounded up all the kids in the morning by the water for walks. The lesson was simple: familiarize yourself with your surroundings and ask questions.
“Why is the water salty?”, “Why aren’t the sun and the moon in the sky at the same time?”, “When can we stop walking?”
Sometimes their questions required your own research, setting you up to be the student around the bonfire with others at night. It became clear to Vince that you were going to need an actual classroom. Rocks on the beach could only cut it for so long.
Lessons continued while the Builders worked on the space. Over the sound of hammers against wood and grumbling voices, you read the class, Frank Baum's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. A beat up paperback someone had brought along on the journey to the Safe Haven had become a favorite of the Lost Children. Evidently, it was a favorite of one of the Builders. The tallest one. The one who was easily annoyed until story time started, then he was focused and quiet. Gally. You caught him leaning away from the beam he had his hand on, straining to hear, or laughing at the same part the kids did. When Dorothy angrily tossed a bucket of water at the Witch, the Builder hissed in pain. Accidentally, he had hit his index finger with his club hammer because he had been paying more attention to the story.
“Would you like me to make you a copy of the book?” The kids were gone and the Builders were beginning to pack up for the day themselves. It was the perfect time to approach the guy who was still shaking his hand out in an effort to minimize the pain. “I am going to write copies for the class anyway.” What was one more?
“Why would you do that?” He was asking in a way that suggested you were crazy for asking.
“It seemed like you were enjoying it. We're going to start The Secret Garden soon. It's too bad you guys are almost done.”
Gally inhaled deeply, hastily trying to hide the flush of color growing across his face. A whistle sounded through his teeth as he inhaled.
“I don't care about your kid stories, okay?” He huffed, arms crossed over his chest. He sounded defiant, but not at all convincing. Still, you had been spending most of your days surrounded by small children. You understood when not to push.
“Understood.” A simple nod seemed to soften him.
A few mornings after your terse exchange with Gally, you were sitting at breakfast with your crew of kids. They had become something of an extra limb, but not an anchor. They couldn't wait to swallow their porridge before asking the new questions that had come to them in the morning.
A rare second of silence granted you enough time to put a spoonful in your mouth, but a delicate barely-there tap on your shoulder interrupted as soon as the cutlery was between your lips.
“Teacher.” The little boy, Malcolm, sputtered instead of calling you by your name like you had told them they could. With a full mouth, you simply gave him your full attention with an enthusiastic stare. “Gally has a question. He told me to ask you -” His arm outstretched, he pointed right at the Builder hunched over his own breakfast two tables away. Gally appeared mad, but you detected it was embarrassment tightening his jaw. “But I forgot.” It was Malcolm's turn to look embarrassed.
“If the question is important enough to him, Gally will ask me himself.” Gally was no longer looking over at your table, but you were willing to bet he overheard.
*****
As the kids in your class grew closer, it was easier for them to let their guards down even with only select people. Grown adults still struggled with night terrors whether they had survived a maze, a medical facility, or life through the Flare so it made sense that the kids were scared to fall asleep. You were sharing rancid moonshine around the fire with a friend when three of your students scampered over, taking turns jumping over sticks and small designs in the sand on their way to you.
It was all they could think to do when one of them was crying from a nightmare: Go find teacher.
Three hands pulled you along, back to their tent, as you swallowed over and over to try and replace the putrid flavor that had instantly dried out your mouth. If you hadn't seen the jar with your own eyes, you would have sworn your friend gave you something from the laundry to drink.
Holding the sniffling little girl, Ada, up on your lap, running a hand down her long braid as she leaned into your cheat, you started to weave a story aloud for all the kids. It started with the Cowardly Lion, a character they particularly liked from The Wizard of Oz, and he had to go on a journey with his friends not unlike the one they went on down the yellow brick road, but despite all they had been through, the Lion was still afraid.
As Ada began to drift off on your lap, you looked up to see how many others had been lulled to sleep. It was then you saw him. Gally. A jar of moonshine in hand, leaning against the beam he installed and listening intently. He didn't break your stare. He didn't pretend to be doing something else. This time, he stayed completely still and just listened.
It took a couple minutes to tuck every kid in and you waited one more to be sure they were actually asleep. Stepping around their cots and hammocks carefully, you made your way to Gally with a playful insult about his moonshine on the tip of your tongue.
“How does it end? You didn't say what happened to the Lion…”
“I thought you didn't care about my kid stories.”
“I don't.” Instinctively, the answer popped out like a button leaving the pants of a man they no longer fit. “You know a lot. It's intimidating.” Reluctantly, he caved before taking a big sip.
“I intimidate you?” It made you laugh. Gally was large and loud and seemed sure of himself.
He wasn't laughing though. He was looking off over your head, drinking. Tilting your head to the side, you led him away from the kid's quarters.
“I'm intimidating, you were saying…”
Maybe, that was the wrong word, Gally wasn't sure. He wrestled with his head before the liquid courage took control, “You’re smart.” People always said Builders were good with their hands, not their heads and that stuck with him now that he was out of the Glade. “You’re literally teaching those kids to read and write and count…”
“I wouldn’t know where to begin with building these structures. We all have our roles.” It was the truth, but you could tell that it did little to comfort him.
“I can read and write okay, like, I wrote Chuck’s name in the rock.” He explained as you two walked side by side towards the water, the sound of the waves softly meeting the shore calling to you. He offered you his jar, but you shook your head. A clear ‘no’. “I just…I was in the Glade a long time. I don’t know a lot that…other people do.” He was turning his throat into linen, taking a sip with every embarrassing piece of his confession. He noted your feet walking along where the water met the land like you were walking along a tightrope, moonlight dancing down the part of your arm exposed from your fallen sweater. He reached over and pulled it back up over your shoulder, nervous by how much he liked what he saw. It made you pause and stare back up at him. “I do like your stories and I like when the kids tell me stuff they’re learning from you. I guess I’m…I’m not jealous, but -”
“Gally?” It seemed like if you didn’t interrupt, he might talk himself into a circle. “Do you want private lessons?”
“What?”
“We could get together and we can read or you can help me make copies of stories for class. Nobody has to know.” The last part seemed vital to the Builder so you held up your hands as if you were being held at gunpoint, trying to mime that you had no malintention.
Gally sat on the offer while you kept tip-toeing over the wet sand, arms out at either side for balance. He took a long sip of his drink before nodding.
“Okay!” He called to your back. “Yeah, I could do that.” He jogged to catch up to you again, once again lifting your sleeve over your shoulder. “When?”
The bonfire was still roaring in the distance, but there was no chance Gally would have his story time on full display like that. The key to successfully tutoring him was the privacy aspect. Checking your surroundings, it took a second before an invisible lightbulb flickered on above your head. As if Gally was one of your adorable students, you grabbed his hand and pulled him toward your classroom.
It was pitch black, but Gally could hear you closing cupboards and shuffling around. Being there reminded him that you had asked for desks for the kids, but it had been waved away at the time. It crossed his hazy mind that he could do it himself after hours.
“Aha!” Pulling him from his thoughts, you lit a white candle. Carrying the flame chin-level, Gally was mesmerized by your features. He supposed he might actually make a decent student considering how much studying he was doing at the moment: noting the three different shades he saw in your eyes and the fluttering of your lashes, taking a mental picture of mouth as it curved into a smile when you waved him over with your other hand.
There was a comfortable corner with cushions and blankets, a place the kids liked to sit when they were having a tough time focusing. You rested the candle on a stool while Gally spread out his legs. He didn’t leave much room for personal space, so you folded your legs behind you and opened up the book to the first chapter.
Your finger stroked the page, gliding beneath the first few words, “Can you read that?” Gally’s lids were heavy though. A hard day of work and a plethora of moonshine made it hard to resist the comfort of the pillows he was resting again.
"I was sort of hoping you could tell me what happens to the Lion in your story..." Gally admitted, putting his jar off to the side and leaning deeper into the soft nest.
Curled up like an oversized child himself, blanketed by a small flame, it seemed Gally wasn’t so tough and you couldn’t help, but feel genuine care for him. The offer to tutor him came out naturally, but looking at him now, it didn’t feel like extra work. It was something you wanted to do.
Putting down the book beside you, you took a cue from Gally and stretched out your legs to get comfortable, closing your eyes and starting where you left off in your made up fable earlier.
where mingyu has a pornstar cock, but the only action he’s getting is with his own hand.
★ pairing: f!reader x mingyu
★ words: 7.5k
★ warnings: comedy, smau bits, homoerotic friendships bc i am free, smut with sexting, big puppy gyu, handjob, both oral, multiple orgasms, protected sex, 18+ mdni
★ notes: it’s finally here and it’s filthy and i did not read it twice!!! going to an ateez concert now brb
GOD HAS FAVOURITES, AND MINGYU’S ONE OF THEM.
in this day and age of hook-up culture, of getting lucky with nothing but a few swipes on your phone, it’s far too easy to just deceive your way into scoring some.
men are liars, and they all claim the same thing these days: they’re a munch, they can go until the sunrise, you’ll feel it in your kidney, they’re a feminist, etc… of course, it’s not until those men slide in dry after rubbing straight flap then cumming in three strokes before those poor women realise: a man will claim anything under the sun if it means you’ll fuck him.
although mingyu can relate to the desperation to get laid, he’s not so shameless that he’d just bullshit his way into someone’s pants. at that point you don’t even deserve it. he’ll stick by his true character even if he’s on the brink of insanity from lack of action. in saying that, what makes mingyu superior to thy neighbour is not just the fact that he only ever speaks the truth — but also in regards to the absurd cock size he’s been blessed with.
through google searches of the average length not just in his country but the whole globe, triple takes from other men in public bathhouses, dick pics sent to talking stages and unsolicited dick pics sent to him — mingyu’s come to the conclusion that he’s bigger than average. to put it humbly, really.
at soft, he can make a few head turns at the least. at half-hard he’s got the size that most men lie about having. and when he’s fully erect, he should probably register his cock as a weapon.
mingyu’s been told that his body’s sculpted like a greek god, complete with zeus’ lightning rod in his pants. he’s got the cock that the top gets in yaoi with ridiculously drawn proportions, the cock that gets spray-painted as graffiti on a cheating ex’s car. mingyu’s big to the point where it’s like okay, can we be serious, like this is doing too much.
he’s been told by men and women alike that he could make a living off of his size. ah, what a dream that’d be. taking dick pics (maybe some feet in there too) to pay the bills. having fame and money and pussy for doing nothing but exist with a completely natural, albeit monstrously sized cock.
he can forget about that ever happening though. it sounds like a dream because it is. nevermind being god’s favourite — mingyu’s starting to believe he must’ve signed a contract with the devil in his past life, because what good is a big dick if you’ve only got yourself to fuck?
it’s a bad joke, really. all these inches and a pretty face but nowhere to use it. he’s only gotten laid enough times to count on one hand without lifting a thumb, and all instances had punctuated years worth of drought.
size doesn’t matter, and he knows that firsthand. when he lost his virginity, he came the instant he slid into his girlfriend, who just said “that’s it?” then broke up with him. he’s had next to no luck landing any girls since that pitiful first, let alone getting one to stay.
he knows he’s not exactly fucking like a pornstar, but his same absurd size is actually what’s holding him back. there’s been times when his cock getting hard for a girl has him on verge of fainting, just from all the fucking blood the monster in his pants needs to get up. then after some mediocre stroke game, the force of orgasming has him seeing literal glimpses of heaven.
despite the physical toll, in some pitiful moments of doubt he even began to question if he’s been lied to his entire life about his size — if it’s not earning him a text back because it’s actually pretty average. that is, until his best friend literally readjusted his glasses in shock the first time he saw mingyu naked.
mingyu might be getting less action than an actual virgin. he’s since long forgotten how a pussy feels since becoming besties with his imagination and left hand — and it’s gotten to the point that the feel of his same old, boring palm can barely spark any pleasure. he may as well be rubbing off his ankle.
the porn on page 1 to page 847 has no difference in how utterly useless it is when he needs help getting off. switching to his non-dominant hand, humping the mattress, buying a pocket pussy, watching fetish content on places he wouldn’t even go with a gun — all of it, useless. futile.
he needs the real thing, warm and tight and living. he needs to get laid before he does something drastic and his face is plastered on every news channel … okay maybe not that far but he fears it really is that serious. all these extra inches means he’s got an extra intense libido to match, and nothing but extra extra bad luck when it comes to finding means of relieving it.
one sunny day he rants about all of this to his roommate and best friend wonwoo, who nods over a steaming bowl of shin ramyun.
“i see.” wonwoo hums. “you’re not asking to fuck me, are you?”
“bro. fuck off.” mingyu groans, dropping his head to the table with a thunk. “you know what? yeah, i might if i don’t get laid soon.”
“well, i’m not a bottom, so unless you want to take it up the ass.” wonwoo shrugs, slurping down a mouthful of noodles without even chewing. (seriously, why does he do that?)
“don’t you have single friends? discord kittens? can’t you hook up a brother in desperate need? i’m losing vision in one eye with how pussy-deprived i am.”
wonwoo readjusts his glasses. “i do know some girls but.. you’d be okay with having my sloppy seconds?”
“forget i even asked man.” mingyu rolls his eyes, kicking his chair out from the table with a loud scrape on the floorboards. “i’m having a shower. need to jerk off before i hit something. or you.”
after a pitiful, rage-induced wank sesh under the hot stream of water (also a few stray tears shed), mingyu was pulling his boxers on when the door swung open.
“are you still on any dating sites?” wonwoo asked casually, ignoring how half of his best friend’s ass was still hanging out as he barged in.
“no, i deleted my tinder after that one girl who set my nudes as her profile picture.”
“okay cool. try this one out.” wonwoo handed his phone over, open on the browser.
www.dtf.com
mingyu scrunched his face. “down to fuck dot com?”
ah, so a matchmaking site that doesn’t pretend to be about any ‘finding your soulmate’ bullshit and is unapologetically straight to the point: we’re all single and here to fuck.
“can’t imagine you look for anything serious on here.” he snickers.
“well no, it’s in the name. are you?”
mingyu scratched his neck. truthfully, a girlfriend would be ideal but… beggars can’t be choosers.
he shrugged. “whatever happens.”
inspecting the rest of the site, he clicked to view wonwoo’s profile — then whistled at the suggestive set of photos displayed on his best friend’s page.
Wonwoo
A giver, most of the time.
AGE: 25
HEIGHT: 6 ft
SIZE: 8 in.
LOOKING FOR: Female, Submissive
INTERESTED IN: BDSM, Brat Taming, Humiliation, Degradation, Edging, Orgasm Denial, Impact Play, Daddy Kink, Sir Kink, Pet Play, Toys, Anal… [Show More]
“you like being called ‘daddy’?” mingyu snickered.
“yeah bro. e-girls flock to me like birds, that’s how i get so many over.” wonwoo replies with a smart-ass smirk. “they grip your dick like you’re gonna leave them.”
“….that’s just not what i asked, man.”
safe to say, mingyu was sold. he promptly had his own account set up, then took close to an hour meticulously choosing the thirst trap images for his profile.
Mingyu
Hey (with the intention of begging on my knees)
AGE: 24
HEIGHT: 6’2
SIZE: 12 in.
LOOKING FOR: Female
INTERESTED IN: Vanilla, Missionary
when mingyu showed wonwoo the final product with a satisfied smile, his best friend burst out laughing.
“are these the default options or something?” wonwoo asked, pointing to mingyu’s barren interests section.
“bro, i’m just looking to get laid. doesn’t need to be any more complex than that.” mingyu pouted. “unlike you, i don’t need a girl to wear a cat tail butt plug and meow for me to get off.”
“that sounds hot.”
it does. “freak ass..”
after leaving his best friend with the middle finger and then setting his profile to public for matchmaking, within mere minutes women were indeed flocking to him, much like birds.
mingyu spent all night marvelling at his phone like a kid in a candy store — giggling as he sifted through profiles, kicking his feet as he chatted with women basically throwing themselves at him.
despite wonwoo making fun of him, it seemed that his only interests being ‘vanilla’ had actually worked in his favour, since he had countless women from all different shades of kinks asking if he was open-minded. the one thing they all had in common though, from the bratty subs to the dominatrixes, was one burning question: is it really that big?
and oh, he’s been more than happy to prove it; snapping a quick, shaky photo of the visible bulge in his calvin kleins and watching as all the phone numbers and addresses and nudes roll in like waves.
he hasn’t taken anyone up on their offers to meet up, not just yet. call him an attention whore, but he’s had years worth of yearning for this, dreaming about this, even crying in the shower after jerking off over this. these days it’s hard enough trying to reach an orgasm even with every tool in his arsenal — and yet he’s been laying here, chatting away with a lifetime’s supply worth of women, while being so turned on he’s basically blue-ballsing himself.
ah, he could get used to this. this could even prove to be a little too dangerous. maybe he really was destined to be a pornstar, and him having no luck climbing out of bitchless purgatory was just the universe’s way of restoring natural balance. no one man should have all this power.
the attention goes straight to his head, leaves him feeling high off of it. leaves him on cloud nine with a painfully hard cock.
ding.
leaves him with a harsh comedown that hits like a kick in the balls.
when he clicks to open the uncalled-for dm, mingyu can feel his boner go a quarter of the way back down just from the shock. what the hell does that mean? do you think he’s a bot, clickbaiting? but he put so much effort and care into choosing the right photos for his profile…
….is it really so unbelievable that he’s only looking for vanilla sex?
oh. okay. so everyone he’s chatted with so far may as well have been shy, considering how forward you are straight off the bat. not even a hello, how are you, my name is… just “i call bullshit, show me that dick.”
alright then. he can play ball.
mingyu tugs his boxers down his thighs, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach, even at only somewhat hard. he’ll need to get it all the way back it up if he’s going to prove it to you.
he has a full-body shiver when his hand grazes the tip, just from how on edge he’s been; smearing precum across his palm before his fingers curl around in a loose grip.
he’ll need something to jerk off to, and well, since your profile is there….
shit. it’s more than enough. you’re like, really fucking pretty. hot, gorgeous, panty-dropping and cock-raising. so pretty he actually feels a little guilty as his hand starts to stroke his cock, but hey, you’ll get him fully hard in no time.
mingyu swipes through the array of photos on your page, each one more revealing than the last, fist steadily pumping his length. it jumps between his fingers when he settles on a photo of you in white lingerie: the lace hugging your curves perfectly, plush lip bitten between your teeth, hands cupping the underside of your breasts and lifting them on full display.
it’s not until a fresh spurt of precum leaks over his knuckles that mingyu remembers he’s supposed to be taking a picture of his boner as proof, and not just… jerking off for the sake of it.
he has to literally rip his hand away, lower belly already coiled dangerously tight. he can’t remember the last time a girl in real life got him this hard and this fast.
shuffling closer to the mirror, he sits on the edge of the bed and holds his cock upright with one hand, the other holding his phone right next to it — as comparison, of course.
he holds his breath as he sends it through.
well, his stomach sank for a moment there, but he quickly recovers. mingyu lays back on the bed, running his palm up and over his length, just absentmindedly playing with himself as his jelly fingers type out a reply.
he’s quick to navigate back to your profile, cock reacting with a pulse as his eyes land on your face again like it missed you already.
he doesn’t even think about it this time: just gets completely lost in the sight before him, in the feel of his fist fucking him. until a ding cuts through the tunnel vision, your chat notification lighting up the top of his screen. the only thing that could tear his attention away from the softcore porn on your profile.
damn. guilty.
he feels his cheeks heating up a little. the fuck? you’ve got his grown ass blushing through the phone. either you’re a seasoned pro at turning men to putty, or mingyu’s just that out of the element.
his mind’s turning to complete mush at this point; tuned in solely to your pretty face and body, to your vulgar mouth. imagination drifting to the feel of your skin under the pads of his fingers, of your lips stretched over the head of his—
shit, he almost came.
mingyu nearly drops his phone as he fumbles to the camera app, shakily filming himself in the mirror as his hand goes to fucking town on his cock. his mouth’s even fouler than yours with all the whiney huffs and puffs pouring from his throat.
he’s not sure if the footage is long enough or even good enough but he also doesn’t care; sending it straight through to you while not missing a beat in jerking himself off.
he throws his head back on the bed with a tortured groan, back arching off the bed as his hips chase the circle of his fist with a mind of their own. he can’t recall the last time masturbating felt this fucking good, the last time it took such a short span of time for him to reach an orgasm.
the last time he was able to forget that the hand around his cock is his own — nothing but your face, that body, those curves behind his lids when he screws his eyes shut.
and just the mere thought that you could be touching yourself too? to the videos of mingyu touching himself, oh fuck…
mingyu winces as his grip tightens until it hurts, fist strangling the fucking life out of his cock. he squeezes until he literally feels the tidal wave of his orgasm receding, the hot pressure under his abs fading into sharp, demanding pulses of his cock.
why did he even say that shit? man, talk about being pussy drunk. he can just manage to feel the weight of shame pressing into his chest over the ache throbbing between his thighs.
if he really did fumble a chance as good as this, a girl as hot as you, he doesn’t even deserve to cum. maybe he should just start embracing the involuntarily celibate life..
to his surprise, another ding from you interrupts his pitiful — while still fully erect — wallowing.
much like a well-trained dog, you don’t have to tell him twice.
mingyu puts on a whole ass show for you. sits upright in bed, films his entire upper body to ensure no twitch or contraction of his sweat-slick abs was left out of frame.
he’s sure the speed of his hand gives away just how long he’s gone without getting laid, but mingyu can’t find it in himself to feel much shame at all now that you’ve offered a chance to remedy that up on a silver platter.
he cums obnoxiously: throwing his head back, adam’s apple bobbing with each shameless moan falling from his mouth; grinding his hips up into his ruthless fist like he’s fucking into someone; a hefty load spurting all over his pretty toned torso, your name slipping from his lips.
before the post-nut clarity can settle in, he sends the raw footage straight through to his patiently waiting audience.
mingyu was so ecstatic that he didn’t even bother to clean up properly, just quickly wiped himself with a tissue before skipping into wonwoo’s room and dapping his best friend up in celebration.
(his reaction being “bro you smell like cum.”)
after leaving dtf.com behind in a matter of hours and moving over to messages, a date was promptly established. being, a date as in the day, because there wasn’t going to be any conversing over dinner or fondling during a movie.
it’s becoming increasingly clear to mingyu that he really struck a pot of gold in you, since you were both on the same page about this: fuck first, talk later.
if you were to go on a date prior, mingyu knows good and damn well that he’d just be sporting a massive pitch in his pants throughout the entire thing; way too excited for his own good over the knowledge that he’s finally getting laid after.
the stars aligned to both of your schedules being open just two days from now. while the anticipation is sure to strangle him alive, he’s able to give wonwoo notice that he’s kicking him out for the day, and to prepare.
in the limited sexual encounters under his belt, mingyu can’t say for certain that he’s actually made a girl cum. unlike men, there isn’t exactly a visual indicator. his size alone could’ve been enough to get them off, sure. but when it comes to you, he doesn’t want to repeat that flustered fumbling; rubbing what he assumes is the clit based off of what he also assumes is genuine moans. his mouth hasn’t even graced a pussy before, isn’t that crazy?
those girls didn’t want anything other than to feel his cock in them, though — letting him touch for a few seconds before insisting that was enough foreplay. hence why he’s never learned.
you, however, like to play with your food. over texts you’ve been teasing the hell out of him, intent on finding out the limits of his desperation — and pleased to find there is none. he will genuinely do anything just to get a sliver of that pussy, and you only want him more because of it.
mingyu knows your expectations aren’t exactly high, but he doesn’t want to risk disappointing you so badly that you won’t sleep with him again. and if he can exceed your expectations, maybe you’d be open to being something more exclusive….
he’s a romantic at heart, okay?
of course, he had to seek out his most trusted elders for advice.
two torturously long days later, mingyu receives your “on the way” text and is pushing wonwoo out the door within the next second.
“don’t be back until tonight, just in case.”
“eh, you won’t last that long.” wonwoo shrugged. mingyu rolls his eyes, and wonwoo just slaps him on the back, pulling him into one of those side-hugs men do. “condoms are in my bedside table.”
with that, wonwoo takes his leave; off to a girl’s place, no doubt. mingyu doesn’t really care to know. his mind’s pretty occupied with a girl of his own.
mingyu rushes into his best friend’s bedroom, kicking his bulky ass gamer chair out of the way and pulling out the top drawer of his bedside table. mingyu physically recoils at the pile of dildos and vibrators he finds instead, which wonwoo so graciously neglected to mention. slamming that one shut, he finds what he’s looking for in the second drawer. condoms.
….why are there so many? textured, warming, cooling, flavoured; how is he supposed to know which one you’d prefer?
after tossing the options over in his head (frantically panicking), mingyu settles on the box of strawberry flavoured condoms, grabbing out more than enough and stuffing them in his pocket.
he then stops by wonwoo’s mirror, giving himself a once over. he went commando for obvious reasons, and his grey sweats already have a visible tent from how he’s half-hard just thinking about you. he already shaved everything in the shower, but he turns his head this way and that to make sure he didn’t miss any spots. pulls his pants down to check the same for his crotch. he smells his breath, his armpits. decides to spritz on more cologne and chew on some gum.
then the doorbell rings.
like some dog waiting for its owner, mingyu bounds over and hastily unlocks the door.
there you are, in all your beauty — smiling sweetly in a little sundress (they always make men go crazy, for whatever reason).
mingyu stammers like an idiot as he attempts to greet you, blocking the doorway as his eyes flick up and down and all around your body, damn nearly drooling until you clear your throat.
“hey mingyu.” you coo, saccharine voice like honey and melting over his thoughts. “it’s nice to finally meet.”
“yes, yes, of course.” he bumbles, finally stepping out of the way and letting you walk inside. he locks the door, gulping as he watches you inspect the place. how is he supposed to begin this? “did you, uh.. want any water or—”
that sentence is lost on the tip of his tongue when your lips smother it. you catch mingyu completely off guard when you step into a kiss with him, leaving no room for questions when your tongue slips into his mouth. you back him into the closest surface, being his kitchen counter, without breaking your mouth from his.
mingyu’s quite good at kissing, since he’s got a lot of experience with that alone, but then not much for the after.
mingyu knows how to lick his tongue against yours and tilt his head for deeper access. knows where to put his hands, how to hold just tight enough to leave your skin buzzing. he knows to pull you in and press your chest flush against his, and he’s mindful enough to keep his pelvis angled away from you. how cute and polite of him. it’s almost like you’re not here for the sole reason of getting in those pants.
despite his best attempts, you rock your hips forward to meet his crotch, delighting at the solid rock you find there. mingyu muffles a noise into your mouth that you’re determined to hear out loud later. you roll your body into his again, brushing your front right up and gauging the outline of his cock.
he’s already proven that he’s not lying about his size but man, fuck… feeling it in real life just brings the shock right back. to think, he’s somehow also desperate as if this thing couldn’t get him laid with ease?
it’s flattering, really — that he chose you amongst all the girls throwing themselves at him, when all you did was doubt and make fun of him.
mingyu finally succumbs to your ministrations and starts rocking his hips right back — tongue tasting every inch of your mouth as he grinds his length forward, nothing but the fabric of his pants and your dress to offer him friction. he’s so worked up that honestly, it could be enough to get him off. he can already feel his dick leaking into his sweats like he’s some virgin experiencing his first kiss.
before he can actually just cum his pants, you part with him — a line of spit connecting your mouths that you wipe off. mingyu’s already huffing, waiting for your next move. you smirk, turning on your heel and walking further into the place.
“which one’s your room?” you call after him. he takes that as a hint to run up and show you to it.
mingyu can just barely hear your oohs and ahhs over the blood pumping like bass in his ears as he pushes his bedroom door open.
your fingers run along his shelves, eyes scanning his posters and the gym equipment scattered around the place. the picture of a dude’s room.
“where’s your roommate?” you ask, perching on his bed.
mingyu swallows, willing his voice to come, a little speechless just at the sight of you sitting where he sleeps. “wonwoo? uh, he’s out.”
you hum, nodding. “so we don’t have to worry about your volume, then.”
oh. you offer mingyu a grin and he just blanches. not yours, his volume. you’re not wrong though.. you’ll probably have him hooting and hollering from just thumbing his tip.
you clear your throat, commanding his attention.
“are you gonna fuck me from there or..?”
mingyu can feel his knees bending a little, on instinct from being flustered and wanting to shrink. you pat on the bed, just to gently guide him, and mingyu follows like a dog.
he chooses to sit beside you which makes you giggle. with a hand on the neck, thumb sitting above his thrumming pulse, you pull him in for a kiss. it’s startlingly tender, at least it begins so.
it’s not long at all until your impatience wins over and you’re licking into his mouth again, enticing little hums from mingyu’s throat. you swings your thighs over his as you climb into his lap, feeling his whole body tense as you sit right on the massive tent in his pants.
mingyu knows he’s fully hard, has been since you put your tongue in his mouth — but now you know it too. there’s a bit of an astonished look in your eye, as if finally confirming some theory. yes, it really is that big. boners give him headaches and he wouldn’t doubt that some of his back pain comes from lugging this big thing around all day.
even now, he can feel his head swimming from all the blood leaving to his lower half. you may leave him with a killer migraine from how hard he’s sure to cum, but it’ll be more than worth it. and you can always make it up to him, maybe….
you grind down on him a few times, the wet patch on his sweats growing even worse; mingyu throwing his head back and just letting you.
a rough hand gripping the scruff of his hair gets his eyes to fly open, staring at you with wide eyes like he’s in trouble. under his watch, you roll your hips deliberately slow, letting mingyu feel every ridge down there, all the wetness dripping from your—
shit, you’re not wearing underwear. you giggle at his recognition, and mingyu’s hands fly out to grip your thighs. to slow you down or get you to speed up, he doesn’t know. as long as you don’t stop.
you make a show with your hand: cupping a breast through your dress, trailing your fingers down your torso before they find the hem of your skirt. you snicker at mingyu’s eyes following every little move, then raise the dress to reveal your bare pussy rutting against his cock — nothing but the thin fabric of his sweats separating you, soiled sticky with your shared arousal.
mingyu whines at the sight, his cock pulsing under you in tandem. you even look a bit startled at how much of it moved, practically halfway in you at this point.
to his dismay you shift back, sitting on his thighs and leaving his poor crotch empty. he doesn’t get to pout for long though, since your hand leaves the dress to brush your knuckles against his length. mingyu shivers, a desperate noise leaving his mouth as your fingers dance over his cock. it throbs and jumps in response, and you giggle, continuing to just play with it. he can barely feel the warmth of your fingers through the fabric, and his hips cant upwards in chase of it.
“you’re real pretty like this, mingyu.” you murmur, fingers softly making a plucking motion over his tip and watching him try to thrust up into it.
as a big ass dude, he’s never heard himself be called ‘pretty’ before, even by his mother but… the way his body reacts to that speaks for itself.
he can’t even get out a ‘thanks’, nothing but embarrassing whines leaving his mouth, even over the faintest stimulation you’re offering him.
“you’ll need to work to fit inside.” you tell him, and he nods, even though he doesn’t even fully register what that means. “mingyu?”
“yeah?” he huffs out, glossy eyes finding yours. you swoon over how much he looks like a puppy, especially with his open-mouth panting, and the fact that he won’t move unless you tell him to.
softness swells inside you and your fingers splay through his hair, combing through it gently. a contrast to your blunt words: “eat me out.”
“oh,” he just says, mind lagging behind as the words sink in. “oh. yes, yeah. i can do that.”
you huff in amusement, pushing off his lap and positioning yourself at the edge of the bed. “i would hope so..”
mingyu follows your lead, sliding off the edge himself and sitting on the floor in front of you. you giggle at his commitment, spreading your legs and pulling the skirt up so your pussy is on full display for him.
saliva gathers in his mouth just looking at it, and he mentally runs through all of the advice jeonghan and joshua gave him.
leaning forward, mingyu starts out slow; leaving soft pecks on the skin of your thigh, listening to your breathing as he inches closer. he works up the courage to look up, holding your gaze as he gives a tentative lick.
you hum appreciatively, fingers finding his hair again, his lashes fluttering over how much he likes the feel of your hand there. mingyu dives in again, just licking for the sake of it — running his tongue through your folds and familiarising himself with your taste. he pulls a steady stream of hums from you, punctuated with a gasp when his tongue presses just right in a particular spot.
the clit, mingyu realises. he latches on so he doesn’t lose it — lips closing around the bud and sucking. your back arches, fingers twisting in mingyu’s hair and causing a groan to rumble on your pussy.
while mingyu kinda knows what to do, he also kinda doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, so he follows the noises above him as direction. he builds a rhythm, switching between quick flicks of his tongue and sucking your clit into his mouth. then, he gets curious: licking down to your hole, juices gushing onto his tongue as he buries it into you. you squeak, thighs clamping around his head, and mingyu uses both of his hands to pry them back open.
he fucks you on his tongue, trying his best to keep his eyes on you through how much they’re rolling back into his head. he thinks he’s got the hang of this now — and so he drags his mouth back to your clit, replacing his tongue with two fingers. mingyu pistons them in and out, curls them up, and goes light-headed at all the gorgeous noises he’s pulling from your mouth.
you’re tight, such a tight fit it might hurt him when he goes in — so he can only imagine how much it’ll hurt you.
on that thought, mingyu scissors his fingers, spreading you open and brushing against your g-spot as he does. his cock jumps in his sweats as you drag out a moan, fist close to ripping out his hair. mingyu adds a third finger, fucks you on them for a bit and listens to your moans in response before easing in a fourth. even all his fingers won’t compare to his entire size, but it’s all he has to prepare you enough.
for the first time maybe ever, mingyu’s certain that you’re close. your body’s practically vibrating: thighs tensing around his ears, pussy throbbing in his mouth and around his fingers.
mingyu locks in, keeping his hand and tongue steady to fuck and lick you through it — that is, until you just tear his face away.
he blinks, registering what just happened as you pull his hand out yourself. he blinks again, and suddenly you’re pulling him up by the shirt collar until he’s sat back on the bed.
you shove him, and mingyu falls on his back. one more blink and mingyu’s met with the image of you lowering your pussy onto his mouth.
you straddle mingyu’s face, grabbing hold of his hair as an anchor before you start to rocklike crazy. your dress covers his eyes, but he’s undeterred as his hands find your ass and push you further down, gladly presenting his tongue for you to use.
mingyu can hardly breathe, but he’d die happily if the last thing he hears is your moans as you ride your orgasm out on his face.
his scalp burns when your fingers twist impossibly tight, hips grinding onto him so hard that even his teeth ache — but then a fresh wave of slick is gushing onto his tongue, and mingyu knows that you’re cumming.
it’s all too much for him and his painfully erect cock, and before he can even register what’s happening — mingyu’s stomach is lurching, cock spilling a hot load into his sweats.
you climb off him, looking unkempt and yet every bit still gorgeous. you tug mingyu by his neck into a kiss, feral and sloppy. teeth gnashing and tongues twisting. your chin sliding against his chin, covered in your cum and his own spit.
mingyu’s the one who breaks it off this time — as much as it pains him, he probably would’ve suffocated on your tongue there with just how breathless he’s been since you unsaddled from him.
you notice, allowing him a moment to actually get some air back into his lungs as you kiss along his jaw and above his adam’s apple. it bobs as you leave a peck there.
turning your attention to the rest of his body, you tug on his shirt, and mingyu lifts his arms to let you pull it off. chest bare, you begin to ravage him, leaving your mark as you suck hickeys and nip bites at his honey skin. your tongue runs through the valley of his pecs and the ridges of his abs, stopped only by the band of his sweats. you pull back, eyes landing on the large stain in his pants, and your lips curl into a smirk.
“aw,” you pout. “i’m flattered.”
you peel his waistband back, and mingyu takes the hint to raise his hips and let you pull these godforsaken sweats all the way down. he winces when his cock slaps against his stomach, sensitive and yet still fully hard.
you take a moment to just admire it, and mingyu gets progressively shy, pre beading at his tip like there isn’t actual cum still covering his length.
you wrap gentle fingers around the base, smiling at how it jumps in your hand. what mingyu doesn’t expect is for you to lean down, and press your lips against the head of his cock.
mingyu groans, so sensitive and yet so fucking good. you don’t go too hard as you mouth at his tip, then darting your tongue out and running it down his length — licking up all the cum dripping down to his balls. you even leave a kiss on his sack, and he shivers, almost shutting his legs on instinct.
he giggles. “sorry, no one’s ever—”
“i could spend all day down here,” you tell him, eyes alight and smile beaming. you really do mean that and you want him to know it. “you’ve got more than enough for a girl to be grateful for.”
mingyu shivers again as you leave an open-mouthed kiss on his cock, running your lips over his length, though he’s not sure if it’s because of that or because of your words.
“almost didn’t believe a man that looks like you could be so desperate, but now..” you press your thumb to his frenulum, revelling in the moan that rips from his chest. “what a lucky girl i am, huh?”
“ffu—shit, you mean i’m the lucky one,” mingyu manages to grit out. “haven’t been laid in forever.”
“see now, i just can’t believe that. well, i do, now that i’m actually touching you—” you squeeze his tip as if to make a point, and mingyu nearly thrashes from how much that just built his next orgasm. “guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time, hm?”
mingyu nods feverishly. you smile, so entirely endeared with him.
with how much of a package mingyu is (in more ways than one), you probably would’ve still fucked him even if you found out he was lying about being pathetically bitchless. now, his good looks are just a bonus. you’re going to fuck him because you’re starting to feel quite fond of him.
“where’s your condoms?” you ask him, granting his poor cock some mercy and instead choosing to run your hands over his sweat-slick abs.
“er..” his mind blanks for a moment, too caught up on the fact that you’re really about to fuck him. “pants pocket.”
you stand from the bed, kneeling down to reach into where you threw his pants on the floor. you arch a brow at mingyu, no doubt realising how he’s got an entire stash of condoms in there, but you don’t mention it.
back on your feet, you shrug your dress off, revealing nothing but a bare, beautifully sculpted body beneath.
“wah..” mingyu unintentionally says out loud, just admiring you.
you roll your eyes, ripping the condom packet open with your teeth. “don’t cum before i even put it in.”
“better hurry then..” he smiles, flashing his sharp canines.
it’s all fast movement from there: you slip the condom on mingyu, snickering a comment about how it took forever until it reached the base, and then you position yourself right above him.
mingyu holds his breath, expecting you to ease onto him — totally unprepared for you to just drop down.
mingyu body curls upwards like you’ve just winded him, cursing like a sailor over your heat wrapped around him. he already knew it’d be like this, even with all the prep, but you’re so fucking tight. you’re just sitting there, not even moving, and yet your pussy is strangling the fucking life out of his cock.
he’s so caught up in trying not to cum prematurely that he forgets about your own discomfort. mingyu recollects himself, pressing a gentle palm to your back as he schools his shaky breathing.
“you okay?” he wheezes out, eyes screwing shut at the pulse your pussy gives.
“mm.” you hum, offering no sign to fuss over, but that doesn’t stop mingyu. holding your waist, he attempts to lift you off of him, but you cut that shit out immediately when you grind yourself forward on his cock. he keels over, head buried into your shoulder.
“‘s a lot to take, but i’m fine, mingyu.” you reassure him, fingers playing with his hair since you’ve realised how much he seems to like it. “are you okay?”
he groans out, intending for that to be a yes. you giggle. “i’m going to move now, alright?” he repeats the groan noise in reply.
you plant both feet on either side of mingyu, balancing yourself with your hands holding his hair, and then you start to bounce. just slowly to start off, letting your pussy adjust to the massive ass cock spearing you open. you know that if you were to have inched down, your pussy would’ve tried to push it out, so making mingyu fit meant just taking it all at once.
he currently looks like he’s the one that has to adjust to you, though.
mingyu lets out a stream of whimpers into your ear where his head is lolled onto your shoulder, just pliantly taking what you’re giving him. all of his brainpower is channelled into holding his cum back right now.
his effort is almost in vain when you speed up, bouncing so hard that his balls smack into your ass with each thrust onto him.
he’s moaning so loud he didn’t even realise the desperate cries coming from your mouth too — dick twitching so violently he didn’t even realise how much you’re pulsing around him.
mingyu pulls back, knowing he’ll regret it if he spent the entire duration of sex with his face stuffed in your shoulder — his eyes captivated on where your bodies connect.
he can’t find the strength in him to offer anything more than his hips stuttering up, attempting to meet each of your bounces on him. in and out, in and out, in and—
“fuuuuucck,” mingyu drawls, eyes rolling so far back he catches a glimpse of his own brain.
you don’t mention it as you quickly wipe some drool from the corner of his mouth, then gasp as you feel his cock spasm like a snapped rubber band. “shit, mingyu, are you—”
you don’t get to ask and he doesn’t get to answer before his orgasm slams into him like a bag of bricks. mingyu’s head lolls back, knuckles turning white where they’re holding onto your waist for dear life, sure to leave bruises in their wake.
you fuck mingyu until you’re certain the condom must be flooded, and then you fuck yourself on him some more.
mingyu’s unintelligible at this point, hoarse voice almost unrecognisable as he can do nothing but moan through the sensitivity. it’s raw and god it hurts but you don’t stop fucking him. he doesn’t want you to either.
your bounces shift into rocking your hips on him, his spent cock rubbing deep and perfectly into your g-spot. your clit grinds on the skin of his groin with each movement, and before long you’re riding out a second orgasm on him.
mingyu takes it, long past his limit but loving every second of you just using him like a toy. he even tries his best to fuck up as you’re cumming, the sweet thing.
after the last wave of your orgasm gushes around his cock, you just lay boneless on mingyu — his body keeping you both propped upright as you catch your breaths and your trains of thought.
his large hand comes to caress your back. he winces when you pulse around him once more, his cock softening inside the spent condom.
“you should probably take the condom off.” you mumble into his collarbone.
he hums, finger mindlessly drawing shapes onto your back.
“and put a new one on.” you add, leaving a peck on his jaw like what you said was nothing out of the ordinary.
“wait, what?”
“what?” you eye him like he’s the one who said something crazy. “did you think that’s all i came for?” you continue, smile stretching across your face.
“uh…” well, yeah. every other girl he’s been with was halfway out the door before he could even tie the condom up.
you kiss him, sweetly this time. a stark contrast to the sloppy, tongue filled make-outs you were having just minutes ago.
“unless you don’t want this as much as you’ve led me to believe..” you tease.
“fuck, i do, i do.” he confirms quickly. “just… give me five minutes.” as if on command, his temple throbs with pain. “and some ibuprofen.”
you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.
god, you’re going to wring all 12 inches of him dry.
...is this enough to ask if you’d like to go out sometime?
Days are always spent the same for you: serving smoothies to sweaty teens after their practice, getting your ears used to the constant murmur, and watching the baseball coach from afar.
You thought you were doing a good job at hiding your little workplace crush, until two girls that get benched for the season begin scheming to set you two up. But there's no way overly flirty Seungkwan could actually be interested.
pairing: baseball coach!seungkwan x fem!reader
word count: 9,7k
genre/au: baseball au, coworkers to lovers, comedy, fluff, smut. pwp.
warnings: seungkwan is a flirt (but what's new), meddling teens, overwhelming environment, mention of career ending injury, mention of other injuries, little baseball but best believe there's playing with balls | explicit smut: sex in the locker-room (the building is empty!), fingering, no lube this is wet city, protected p in v sex (wrap it up folks), seungkwan is very strong :)
note: this is for the Aju League collab hosted by hali @sailorsoons and jewel @100vern ! thank you guys for letting me join! i'm so sorry for taking forever to post don't hate me i love you ♡ also tagging the president of the seungkwan lovers club @seungkw1 ♡
THIS FIC IS FOR +18 READERS ONLY! MINORS CAUGHT INTERACTING WILL BE BLOCKED.
don't forget to check out the collab masterlist! ♡ check out my main masterlist ♡ dividers by cursed-carmine
Even before crossing the door, you can hear the noise coming from inside the stadium.
With MLB season at the verge of starting, the team's training days have become longer, their passion stronger, and their presence a ton more palpable in the air than before. It's not so different from any other day from the past weeks, but it still requires a deep breath before coming in.
The first time you stepped foot in the stadium, you were mesmerized by the sheer amount of open space, the different rooms, and the large dining area with glass doors going into the field. But, even after so much time working inside those walls, sometimes it's still hard to grasp the concept of getting to spend your afternoons here, watching the players you used to see on TV and being a part of the little league kids' lives before they get big.
Some days are better than others, like any other job, and you might not have the most important job out there, but you've grown fond of the history happening in the stadium.
The glass door opens under the push of your hands, and you're welcomed by the music from the radio coming from the speakers, and of course, more noise. It shouldn't be bad for long though, because you checked on the schedule before coming in and saw the team's practice was cut short due to unforeseen circumstances—whatever that means.
You change in the employees locker-room, the last minutes before setting the previous barista free. For the next 8 hours you'll be serving cold smoothies to whoever is on the clock. With no practice, it will most likely be a boring and slow day. The dream.
"Hey! You look cheerful… ready to clock in?"
Minghao joins you as you sit and wait for the hour to start. You're not clocking in even a minute earlier.
"As ready as I can!" You respond with a clearly fake smile.
When you saw you were on the schedule with him, it was a relief. It's no restaurant during peak dining hours, but the stadium's diner can be an overwhelming place when an entire team of hungry and tired men sit down. A bad or good coworker can change the day drastically. Even a boring one.
"At least it'll be a slow day, huh?" You chat while he changes behind the curtain.
"Slow? Didn't you see?"
"See what? I thought the team's practice was done for today."
Just a few minutes before, you saw their uniforms walking towards the players' locker rooms. You thought you'll serve some of them who'll prefer to eat something before leaving and that's it.
"Yeah, the MLB team's practice is. But they just bumped up the senior little league's for today." He barely pays you attention as he ties his shoelaces.
The news makes your hands feel clammy, but you persist. "I thought they were starting next week."
Kids. Kids you can handle. Sure, this will affect the entirety of the day in a way you didn't think of beforehand, but it's just the kids. You've got to know them all pretty well after spending plenty of seasons serving them during breaks.
"Apparently some of them got injured so they want to start practicing the new plays ASAP."
"That's so unfortunate!"
You've been a close witness to how hard those kids train to be a part of Little League. Each year they come back with more hunger than before, and the new ones that keep joining work twice as hard to keep up.
"Don't act like you won't enjoy it."
"You think that way of me? Kids got hurt!"
"Oh, no!" Minghao dramatizes, "it sucks that coach Boo will spend double the time here!"
You focus on the last part of his mocking instead of giving in. "Double the time?"
"You really don't check your e-mails."
"Just tell me!" You roll your eyes and get up from your seat as the hour's about to start.
"MLB practice is moving to the spring training center for a while and Little League is getting both slots until they come back."
As much as you hate to admit it—and you will never do it out loud, getting extra time to stare at the Little League coach from afar isn't the worst thing in the world.
Prodigy pitcher turned one of the best coaches in the country, Boo Seungkwan is nothing if not an amazing sportsman to idolize and worship from your perfect spot just by the glass windows. It was your love for the sport that drew you into working at the stadium, and interacting with Seungkwan, at least fleetingly, that helped you stay.
As you and Minghao leave the locker room, the field outside starts getting filled with the Little League team. All ages from 13 to 16, the kids talk to their friends while arranging themselves in a circle to pay attention to their coach. When you focus your eyes, you can see one of the girls with a cast on her right arm, and another one with a medical boot around her right ankle.
"I guess it's not going to be a boring day after all," you try to drive the conversation with Minghao back. "The kids will be more hungry than ever."
"And you'll have a view while you're at it." Minghao follows your eyes into the field just as the coach walks out and calls the team's attention. Damn him.
"You better shut up before I—"
"You don't scare me!" Minghao interrupts, and gives you no time to yell back.
He goes out the glass door into the field to help with practice—they need as much help as they can get with the new schedule, while you have to stay back and replace the previous barista.
"You need to tell your work husband to respect me," you tell Soonyoung, who's standing behind the bar, witnessing the whole interaction with a smirk.
"I don't know what you're talking about." He avoids your eyes, grabbing his bag from under the counter, already ready to leave.
Soonyoung never uses the locker room. He probably doesn't know where exactly it is, even after months of working here. You've always thought it was smart of him, because he's always ready to leave the second his shift is over, but today, that excuse won't do.
"Next time, I'll punch him in the nose and you can nurse him back to health."
Even with his back turned to you and walking away, he manages to flip you off. What a great start of the day.
A few MLB team members hang out on the tables while you wipe the rest of them. It's just an excuse to be seen doing something instead of standing behind the bar looking bored. They eventually take off to their homes, leaving your work space empty once and for all.
You don't really mind having nothing to do for a while. Time may run faster when you have a list of chores to check, but watching baseball practice from afar as if it was your TV screen does a good job at it too.
The field outside, a reddish clay color with green grass on the sidelines, endures the stomping of about 12 kids running in big circles while the pitchers do balance exercises. Minghao's back is to you, surveilling the runners with a watch in his hand. You've been trying to get busy with any possible chore, so you don't know how many laps the kids ran already, but they look as tired as if they were on a marathon.
On the other side of the field, the 6 pitchers follow Coach Boo's instructions. They stand on one leg for minutes, then throw a ball to the kid in front of them, a safe 10 meters away. A pretty standard warming session.
Seungkwan gives all of them indications, helps them with the position of the arms and legs, even demonstrating by throwing a ball to Minghao and hitting him on the back.
With everything turning upside down for the day, you haven't registered the weirdly formal attire he's wearing. Usually, the coach wears the team's uniform, plus a baseball hat with his name on it. But today. Today Seungkwan forgo the orange jersey, opting for a black and white button up with loose sleeves that drift up his shoulders every time he demonstrates a throw.
What he didn't opt out of was the white pants, so clean and tight one would think they haven't been worn once. As Seungkwan notices his legs in the wrong position for the throw, he shifts and flexes his muscles before his right arm extends to its full length at an angle.
The blend of polyester and spandex of the lower part of the uniform stretch perfectly over his hips and thighs, leaving little to the imagination. You've never seen a man with such a prominent ass that only accentuates with a change of clothes. You shouldn't be eyeing him so shamelessly, but it's there on your line of sight, and you're only admiring the curves abruptly turning circular then blending into the flesh of his tights.
"Ahem!" A cough way too close to your form takes you out of your thoughts.
Slowly and with fear, you turn around, finding the two girls that can't play for the season staring at you as if they are about to burst out laughing.
"Oh, hi guys!" You straighten your posture with the best polite smile you can master. "Did you want to order something?"
One of the girls, who's name you're pretty sure is Wendy, giggles as she takes out her phone. The other, Alice, pretends to think for a second before deciding.
"Two strawberry smoothies," Alice smiles, but side-eyes her friend.
Right, that's their favorite. You remember that. You know every kids' favorite thing to order during their break.
For the first time in forever, you're grateful the blender makes so much noise when breaking up the ice. You don't know how you'd handle the awkward silence as the girls watch your every move.
Little devils. That's what you and your coworkers call them. Sure, they're sweet girls and play baseball like their lives depend on it. It's when they're bored on breaks that everything changes.
Week after week, they choose a victim to follow around and "learn about their true life," as they put it. You were caught smoking twice, once during your first month, the second time the exact moment after you saw a sliver of Seungkwan's bare back that time you passed by the locker-room. They also discovered Minghao's break-dance shoes two months ago when he left his locker open accidentally, and Soonyoung’s secret Twitter account he was tweeting from while holding the door for them.
It's dangerous, having those two with nothing to do for so much time. Damn Minghao and his task to help Seungkwan train the team. You'll be these girls' focus, and they already caught you in a moment of weakness.
"So, how are you guys feeling? It's a bummer what happened."
You try to play it off, serve them their smoothies and engage in easy small talk to make them forget about the 5 minutes prior. Maybe if you hold your phone to their faces while playing a Subway Surfers video it'll work.
"We learned not to play Baseball in the park without Coach Boo there," Wendy jokes.
His name makes them giggle in unison, and you pretend not to be affected by it as well.
"You got hurt together? Oh, guys, I'm so sorry!" Both girls sip on their smoothies while staring at you. They could be communicating their next torture tactics telepathically, for all you know. "Is there nothing you can do for the team? I'm sure they'll appreciate some cheerleaders."
"The doctors said we're supposed to be resting," it's Alice's turn to explain. "We promised we'll stay put on our visits to the stadium."
Gears start turning behind both girls' pairs of eyes, like warning sirens going off everywhere in the building. Victim searching seems to be done. You put yourself under their spotlight. You and the glass windows allowing you to see everything Seungkwan does outside.
The girls are lovely. Hearing their school's gossip and nodding along with them is fun during your breaks and during the dead times when they're all eating. Maybe, just maybe, you can get through a few days of their attention.
"What are you doing bothering our best server here?" The voice coming in from the field's door freezes you in place.
Seungkwan steps inside your holy peaceful space, disrupting the little control you had over your nervous system. Sweat stains stick the button-up against his chest in a delightful show of his muscles, panting as if he just ran inside, looking at you with that teasing look you half-hate.
"You give me too much credit for serving smoothies, coach."
"No, no, you keep me and the team happy like no one can."
"Just lucky with the blender, I guess." Scrubbing down said piece of plastic, you try to shrink your body down and contain the flushing he always erupts. "The girls were just telling me how much they love you."
"Were they?" Seungkwan asks with the corner of his mouth lifting just slightly.
"Yes, coach!" They reply together.
You nod with a knowing smile. As it's known those two are the troublemakers, their usual victims—but mostly Seungkwan, tend to tease them back. He even encouraged you and Minghao once, saying that it kept them on their toes.
"Don't think I won't be fooled by those angel faces you put on, I'll be making sure you guys stay resting."
You fetch the little peanut bowl instinctively, setting it on the bar where Seungkwan's seating without him asking for it. He chats with the girls for a second, snacking on what you lay in front of him. He talks so sweetly, so caring of his team that he works so hard for.
The rest of the team stay outside, all sitting on the freshly cut grass, drinking water out of their decorated bottles and laughing together.
Watching them so comfortable with one another, you still remember the first time Seungkwan showed up. You were so excited to see him in person, Boo Seungkwan, the legendary thrower turned coach. Any other starting coach would hate to get thrown to manage the little leagues, but not him. He came in every day with a smile on his face, remembered every worker's name, and worked his way up to get the trust of the most difficult age group: 13 year olds.
"Really? Are you willing to?" A voice asks, pulling you back to earth.
"W-what?" You find three pairs of eyes waiting for a response, two with matching devilish grins.
"We do need someone else to help the kids stretch," Seungkwan thinks out loud, eyeing the team outside.
Time. To. Panic. Helping the team stretch? You can barely touch your toes while standing, and doing the splits is a no-go. A retired woman of 70 years of age probably has a better physical aptitude than you. There's no way you can tell kids that play sports every day what to do!
Your heart races just thinking about it, having to spend time with Seungkwan as he witnesses the least athletic person to ever exist. Your hands grow hot, threatening to start sweating before you even utter a word back.
"Don't go pale! I'm kidding!" Seungkwan's warm chuckle breaches through your panic and into your heart, a very strange mix of emotions that result in a confused stare. "The girls were just complaining about how hot it is today and how you said you could bring out a cold drink cart to the field."
"I said that?" Your eyes fly to the girls by his side as they try to stop their giggles.
"It's okay if you're busy, you don't need to." His voice is soft, understanding, compared to the wicked girls.
At the back of your mind, you crave the safety of your post. The ease of waiting for tired members of each team to slump down in front of you without even asking for their favorite smoothie, because you already know their orders.
But, maybe… Just maybe, doing something different for once doesn't sound as bad. Under the sunlight, the kids' overwhelming screams can dissolve into noise in the background, it can add something to actually do now that the day has become more boring than usual. And is it so bad to want to feel your heart pumping a bit harder? Who needs drugs when you can get the adrenaline going by spending the afternoon with your workplace crush?
"No! Sure! Yeah!" You nod without making eye contact. "I don't mind at all!"
Off your sight, Seungkwan stands up and gets behind the bar counter. So hard. It's so hard not to look his way when you feel his bodily warmth brushing your arm.
"Good, I need your company out there," his voice reaches from your side, accompanying the fridge door unlocking as he takes a bottle of orange juice. "The team does, too."
You catch a glimpse of a wink fading from his face once you gather the guts to look at him. "Yeah, right, I'm sure they do."
"You can come by after individual skill drills are over!" Seungkwan smiles on his way out the door.
"We'll help you, miss Y/N," the girls, still sitting with barely contained giggles, announce in unison.
You grab their empty glasses, taking the chance to get closer to their faces so they can see the real meaning behind your polite smile. "Oh, then I'm definitely helping!"
The beverage cart shades you from the blinding sunlight outside, allowing you to see the practice as it evolves from skill drills eventually to a full on game.
Seungkwan and Minghao had set up a few different stations for the kids to train in groups of six. While Seungkwan focuses on the throwers and hitters, the coach's assistant with base running and Minghao on the fielders, you're left in charge of the hydrating station. Every five minutes, when they rotate the groups and change the exercises—a thought out way to keep them entertained, you hand each kid a cold bottle of water as they take some time to catch their breaths.
It's easier to give every kid the attention they deserve when split up in small groups, and you see Seungkwan taking his time making sure every one of them gets pointers to help get better. From the way every kid looks eager to receive his feedback, it's clear he's earned not only the kids' love, but also their respect.
"Isn't he so nice?" A voice says next to your cart.
Alice and Wendy sit on the benches, with matching sunglasses and team caps to shade their faces from the sun. They've been sitting there watching the practice and whispering to themselves for a while, but they haven't talked to anyone else, until now.
"Yeah, the previous coach barely gave us directions," Wendy replies, pointed.
"Remember when he sat and ate all of Drew's mom's cookies while we ran around?"
"Yeah, and they were for all of us!"
You try to ignore their conversation as best you can. As a new batch of kids rotate your way, the second to last group before the actual gaming practice begins, you bring out a few waters and orange juices from the cooler.
Not much further into the field, but enough that not one single ball has even come closer to your station, Seungkwan welcomes his new batch of kids. One by one, he lets them throw the ball his way, a few meters ahead, and then throws it back and lets them catch it. He's always with a kind smile on his face, doesn't matter if he gets hit in the chest, legs, or even his feet. Somehow, he notices what went wrong with every kid's throw and catch and helps correct it.
"What do you think, Y/N? About Coach Boo?"
Taking in account that the temperatures are already high, and that you're talking to two girls barely beginning their puberty, your face shouldn't be getting as warm as it is from a simple question.
"From what I've seen from your games and practices he seems to be a very good coach," you settle on answering. Simple, not revealing, and true.
"You see another side of him we don't," Alice prods further.
"I guess I do, and—sure he's really nice. "
But, do you? He never seemed different, always with a smile and a compliment to everyone. Though, maybe the few nights the whole staff went out for drinks does count as seeing him differently.
There was one time when you were so drunk, Seungkwan waited outside the bar until your Uber arrived to even order his own. You told him countless times that it wasn't necessary, and that he'd freeze on the sidewalk if you took his jacket. But he wouldn't listen.
"Are you friends?"
"I'm sure he's friends with the entire staff."
"But are you two friends?"
Your mouth opens to answer, but then another voice comes through, not really saving you. "Well, I hope she likes me enough!"
Immediately, the two girls giggle in unison, not bothering to hide what they're trying to do.
"I guess you could say I enjoy your company," you reply as unbothered as you can. He half smiles, and you counter, "sometimes."
Seungkwan chuckles as he always does, not bothering to hide the smirk that comes out every time you tease him. He turns around, grabs one of the cold juices from the icebox and tells the kids on your station something you can't quite hear.
"Hey!" You take the bottle away from him middle-sip. "Don't leave me without customers!"
"Their time was up!" You don't fight him when he takes it back. "I haven't seen that pretty smile all day! Is the sun killing you?"
You could blame the sun now. What other reason could you have for getting so blushed at a few words? "N-no, I'm fine inside this ice box."
"Sure? 'Cause I felt bad asking you out here to work under the sun."
"Please, you didn't force me."
If anyone was to blame, it'd never be him. Could be the girls scheming to make your life impossible. It could be you and your inability to take your eyes off the coach. It's not his fault his kindness enchanted you.
"Good, I think I'm enjoying you eyeing me working with the kids," he pauses for effect, and it works because air has trouble getting into your lungs. "We'd love more eyes on the practice to help the kids!"
"Oh—I,"
"Actually!" Alice speaks up after a while, "she was just telling us she never played baseball before!"
"What? No, guys, I definitely have," you lie through your teeth.
"It's okay miss Y/N, you don't have to be embarrassed in front of Coach Boo! He's the best teacher!" Wendy adds.
The two little devils grin at your wide open eyes. They really don't care to embarrass you in front of Seungkwan.
Maybe you haven't played baseball since that one time in high-school you tried every sport out there because you didn't want to end up in the running team—which you did. The time you've been working at the stadium must've done something. Before you landed your place behind the smoothie bar, you used to be called to do the jobs no one else wanted to: arranging the field for the practice games. You learned more about the field's and play's organization than you could've ever learned by just watching.
"I know how to play Baseball." You glare at Seungkwan for support, but it seems he caught on to your victim status for the day, and doesn't plan to help.
"Do you? Then show me." He's still wearing the pitcher's glove, which he uses to toss the baseball up without taking his eyes off you.
"I can't right now," you huff, "I mean—you're in the middle of practice! And I have kids to hydrate!"
"The kids are taking a bathroom break before we decide teams for the game." He extends his arm to make a show of the nearly empty field behind him.
For once, you realize there are no child-like screams on the background, no sneakers sliding against the sandy ground. That's what he said to the kids before, he was telling them to take a break. And you didn't notice until he pointed it out. Way to pay attention to your job!
You cross your arms. "Well, I haven't played in a long time." It's a stupid excuse, one Seungkwan sees through immediately.
"That's why I'm here, love."
Almost all alone on the field, except for the occasional sighting of Minghao bringing stuff for the game, you might as well be as red as the clay below you. Has it always been so red? Maybe it's the sun starting to hide behind the buildings. Or maybe it's that you're trying to pay attention to anything that isn't Seungkwan standing a few meters in front of you with smugness painting his face.
"I'm going to hurt you!" You shout his way.
You can't throw a ball. You're not the prodigy pitcher he was. Either the ball will fly out of the stadium because you can't manage the force, or hit him, or you'll throw it straight to the ground and embarrass yourself further.
"Just try it!" Seungkwan smiles in a way you haven't seen him ever, not even for the kids. "I've seen too much for you to be that bad that'll surprise me!"
He isn't wearing his coaching hat. That part of his uniform now sits on your head. So you can see where you throw, he said, but you doubt that'll help in any way.
"That's still too high of an expectation for me!" You can't hear him, but you know for sure he chuckles at your resistance.
Seungkwan doesn't move from his spot. He rolls his shoulders back, relaxing into a more comfortable position to catch whatever throw you're about to perform. You mirror his movements, trying to let go of the tension building up from being under his gaze.
You've seen countless practices, countless professional games, a number of coaches directing players and helping them out. Something should have stuck. Your body should be able to reproduce from memory.
A deep breath and a second where your anxiety-filled brain disconnects from your limbs is all you need to do a Twilight style throw. Left knee up. Elbows against your ribs. Your gloved left hand joins your right, holding the ball with much more force than necessary. You straighten your arm back, eyes focused on Seungkwan squatting to receive the throw.
And.
The ball flies from your hand. Straight into Seungkwan’s left thigh.
You knew where the ball would land as soon as you lost its grip. Seungkwan falls on the grassy side of the field, holding onto his, soon to be bruised, thigh as you run to him.
"Oh my God! I'm so sorry! I told you I suck!"
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Seungkwan struggles to get the words out.
You broke his leg. Okay, you don't have that much strength, but you broke something. He's so in pain he can't breathe for God's sake! What a perfect afternoon with your workplace crush! Now Seungkwan will have a remainder on his leg to look at and remember how the least sporty person he knows attacked him.
You need a new job. How will you ever come back here after this? You had a 50/50 chance and managed to hit him on that leg!
It's fine. This place gave you tons of experience. Maybe you can apply to stadiums nearby. Soonyoung or Minghao can pretend to be your bosses and give excellent recommendations. This isn't the end of the world. You'll just have to say goodbye to the daily eye-candy.
A sweet sounding laughter takes you out of your doom thoughts.
"You're so worried!" Seungkwan stands up in a chuckle, leaving you dumbfounded, kneeling on the ground. "It didn't hit me that hard, I promise."
"But—you,"
"I'm okay!" To prove his point, Seungkwan stands on the one leg you hit and jumps a bunch of times, "see?"
You can't force down the smile he triggers, immediately helping you to feel better.
He stops and extends his hand down for you to take. At least cavalry isn't fully dead, right? You still don't know how to properly talk to him after this. Oh, how embarrassingly worried you just were, and in front of him of all people!
Seungkwan's fingers drape over yours as he pulls you up.
"I'm still sorry," you rush to apologize for one last time.
"I've had kids hit me harder," he teases. How can he be so charming even in these situations?
"I just thought—I didn't want to hurt you right there."
Your eyes dart down his body, losing focus once or twice where his clothes reveal a bit more skin than normal, and set just above his left knee, dangerously close to where the ball hit. Where you know, under the coaching uniform, surgery scars must cover a big patch of skin.
"Oh." Seungkwan follows your head down, finding the cause of your stress. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't completely healed. Especially coaching kids."
That logic, you can't argue.
"I hope you've had worse hits than that one here," you chuckle, one last try at a normal interaction. "Because if not then I won't be able to talk to you again."
"C'mon! It wasn't that bad." Usually, Seungkwan is one of the most trust-worthy men related to the sports world, but you still catch the devious tone. "Your form just needs work."
"I think it's more than that but—okay."
Your words get cut off by Seungkwan positioning himself behind you, his hands on your elbows, ready to be in teacher mode. He's not giving up on teaching just yet. And if he was any closer, he'd feel your heart threatening to burst out of your chest.
"You put too much force with your arm," he begins, his touch relaxing your tense muscles with care. "Your secret weapon is the wrist. It helps to throw exactly where you want to."
The trail of goosebumps his fingers leave behind in their way to your wrist is unavoidable. His hands are warm, a physical testament of his personality. This is normal for him, being close to whoever he's teaching. You've seen him helping people of all ages, always with thought and care. It isn't different with you, you're the one making it awkward.
You need to get it together.
"So, I need to aim better? Shocking news."
Seungkwan chuckles dangerously close to the back of your neck.
"Do it like this." His left hand ventures down until it finds your waist. He lightly pushes it forward, tilting your lower body to sideways while the throwing arm faces the front. "Throw it with your whole body."
"I tried that." You cringe at the motion you did earlier.
"You didn't do it wrong, you just need to focus on strength, not on moving."
It'd be easier to follow the instructions if your blood didn't boil in every place Seungkwan touches. He isn't doing anything out of the ordinary! It's just a teaching exercise, but here you had to come and get nervous at every little thing he does.
"It's your fault if I do it badly this time."
He chuckles again. You hope he thinks your rebuttals are funny and not a result of nervousness. If he notices, he doesn't show.
Seungkwan's right hand gets a hold of yours, lacing your fingers to grab the baseball together.
"And if it goes well? Do I get a prize?"
"If i throw well you mean?"
"Hmmm." His hum runs from the back of your neck all the way down to turn your legs into jelly. "What's your target?"
He has you facing nothing but air and glass windows you shouldn't really aim at. Is he expecting a real answer? Not hitting the ground would be enough. You couldn't possibly be expected to think properly in these circumstances.
"Forward?" Seungkwan laughs through his nose. You don't know if you want to look back and see his reaction or hide under a rock forever. "I don't know—that light pole over there. I don't want to break anything."
Something moves on the corner of your eye. "I have a better idea." Seungkwan's voice is filled with an undeniable mischief you can't decipher in time.
You move at his will, his arm molding against yours as you try to follow his line of sight.
Seungkwan lets go of the ball, pushing it forward in a straight line so clean you suspect he's more a machine than a man. Even if his muscles tensing due to the force of the throw demonstrate otherwise.
Almost instantly, you understand what happened.
The white and red ball hits the figure that moved earlier: Minghao. He's far ahead and you barely understand the string of curses leaving his mouth, but his insulted face is enough to get the gist.
"He's going to kill me!" Turning your back on your annoyed friend, you find Seungkwan no longer breathing down your neck, but laughing hysterically. "You did it on purpose! Now he's going to kill me!"
"Please, he loves you," he snickers, looking behind you. "He went inside already."
"He tolerates me, there's a difference. And there's only one person he loves here."
It takes less than a second for Seungkwan to register what you said. He doesn't even give you time to feel bad about airing out Minghao's business. "Oh, yeah," he nods.
You chuckle, still struggling to breathe. "They're so obvious!"
"I always catch Soonyoung watching him through the windows."
You freeze. "You can see inside?"
You figured, a long time ago, that the sun's reflection against the glass made it impossible for people to see inside the dining space from outside. Soonyoung works the same position as you. Shifts together with him or alone. If Seungkwan can see him working the bar, he can for sure see you too.
"I have to see what you're up to from time to time."
Right. He always checks up on the staff. He catches if we need anything or if we're free to help out on the field. It's his duty. Kind of.
"Well, we need to do something about those two because—"
"About who?" A small, high voice interrupts your deflection.
Behind you, Wendy runs after Alice, who's standing almost between you and Seungkwan, looking up as innocently as possible.
"You guys should be sitting down," Seungkwan reprimands with a smile.
"We were looking for Miss Y/N and saw her with you outside," Wendy adds.
The girls look at each other and giggle. Never in the history of the world has something been so obvious. If Seungkwan hadn't caught up to the fact that you were today's victim, he has to know by now.
"Why were you looking for me?" You find your voice after the initial shock.
"Nothing!" Both girls say in unison.
Another way to embarrass you, surely.
Your skin still tingles with the memory of Seungkwan's body behind yours, overpowering your every move by simply existing. You want to run away and scream the memory away. You want to be alone with him and feel his touch again.
If it wasn't for your embarrassingly obvious crush, you wouldn't be here in the first place. You'd be alone and bored behind the smoothie bar, looking out into the practice run and wishing you'd had the guts to do something.
"Do you kids want to be the referees for the practice game?"
"There's nothing in the kids' locker-room!" You scream at your phone stuck between your cheek and your shoulder.
You look under every bench and every open locker for anything that isn't supposed to be there. It's surprisingly clean after an afternoon of being used by the messiest age group of kids, even if the benches and plastic chairs were left anywhere but in their place.
"No yellow beanie?" Minghao asks on the other side of the line.
"I think I'd see a yellow anything here!"
The stadium is basically empty at this hour. The practice ran longer than usual, as the team needed to replace Alice and Wendy and, not only practice what a game without them would be like, but also come up with new plays when they realized the older ones only worked with them.
When, usually, then staff tends to have time to close properly, now you're left scrambling in the search for this beanie one of the kids is missing. Why couldn't he wait until the next practice? Beats you.
"I'll tell him to check his bag again," Minghao proposes.
Beside his voice, you hear him mumbling orders to the kids as they get out of the stadium and into the bus.
"We'll find it and take it to the lost & found. I'm sure he can survive until tomorrow without it."
With that, you take your quest as finished. The day is finally over. You can pick your things up from your locker, appreciate not being followed by two bored girls anymore, and not think about Seungkwan until the next day. Some things are easier than others.
"You heading to the lockers?" Minghao asks, almost smug.
He can't see you from the bar/dining space since you took a shortcut from the side of the field.
"Yeah… " Fabric ruffling on his side tells you what he means to say. "And you're leaving already, aren't you?"
"Privileges of working inside! I snuck my stuff to the bar while you were out on the field." You don't miss the teasing tone at the last words.
"Well, you're opening tomorrow and not me, so," you retort.
"Jealousy is a disease," he chuckles.
"One I don't have! Good night Hao!"
With the kids already on the bus taking them home, no one's around the premises, silence embracing you for the first time since stepping foot in the stadium.
A boring day turned into one of the longest in a long time. Practicing anything new, being plays, player arrangements or both in this case, always takes more time and energy than anything else, and it's your duty to stay until the last baseball team member leaves. That means, on days like these, making sure no kid is left behind (job done graciously by Minghao this time) and being the one to turn off the lights at whatever hour that that is completed is your job.
You've grown used to closing. The white led lights from outside illuminate your walk to the lockers, in a silence that is only interrupted by the sound of a bench being moved.
Damn Minghao. He must've forgotten a kid. Great.
You run in the direction of the sound, your phone ready in hand to call the parents and a cab to take you both home. Why would a kid be hiding in the staff rooms? Asking that would get you nowhere. It happens. You fix it.
"Your friends left already, let's get you home kid—"
The tired words halt their way out when you step into the locker-room.
"But you're still here," Seungkwan snickers at your blank face.
The floor. The locker-room floor is so interesting. Certainly more interesting than your shirtless co-worker standing too close and staring and smiling and not putting his shirt on.
"I thought—" you look behind you, at both sides of the room, everywhere but at him. "Everyone already left."
"Yeah, but Hao asked me to look for something a kid missed, so I stayed behind."
"Oh, yeah, I was looking for it too."
You dare to look up. At his face. With a lot of mental willpower. It's not better. Seungkwan smirks like he knows exactly what's going through your mind. Why isn't he putting the shirt on? It's right there in his hand.
"Are you clocking out?" He asks at your silence.
"Yeah, I—I'll let you change and be back after."
You really only need your bag. Waiting for him will only delay your escape home, but you fear if you spend a second longer repressing yourself with Seungkwan in the room, you'll explode.
He gives you no chance to head back to the door. "If you don't mind then I don't."
Do you mind? He's being so nice. He wants both of you to leave the workplace quickly after a hard day. And you… you're starting at his chest. Or it stares at you.
"I'll get my things."
Most times you've seen Seungkwan on the way out were him heading out of the locker-room as you were entering. If you even caught him. Your closing chores take so much time, you're left alone or with your closing mate, Minghao, most of the time.
That's why you didn't know, and you realize at the worst possible moment, that your locker sits exactly opposite to his.
It's okay. Just—unlock it, grab your bag, anything that could've fallen outside of it, and leave.
"You on the schedule tomorrow?"
With your back to him, Seungkwan can't see the series of thinking expressions morphing your face, though you can hear the ruffle of fabric that indicates he's decent enough for you not to want the earth to swallow you whole.
"Same time as today," you answer, pretending to arrange the stuff in your bag.
"Me too." His voice sounds much closer than before, his words breathing down your neck.
You try to keep your tone casual, your stance calm, keep your hand from trembling looking for your phone. You really do. "Are you not doing longer practices?"
The space between the walls is already narrow enough, and Seungkwan rounded around the bench in the middle of it to stand on your side. He invaded your space happily. At least he's clothed.
"Next week," he simply replies, and his smirk bleeds through the words.
You immediately regret turning around in a weak moment of curiosity.
He's so close your knees almost touch. You can't breathe, feeling like if your chest rises, it'll bump against his. Whatever he's doing, for whatever reasons, it's messing with every system in your body.
"Don't stretch it out too much, please, I don't want to go home at the crack of dawn."
"It's not that late," he chuckles. "I do whatever it takes."
He doesn't move, just stares at you as your brain struggles to think a single word.
Why is he doing this? Why is he being like this? You can take normal flirty banter on the daily—hell, he does it with everyone. But he probably isn't pinning every co-worker against their locker and smirking like he knows all their secrets.
"Are you leaving?" Is the only thing that comes out of you.
"Are you?" He counterattacks.
You could.
You could push him away and sprint out of there. You could curse him out and make him back off you. You could do so many things, but, deep down, that workplace crush is fighting back, bubbling over and away from the box you tuck it into every day.
When you don't answer, his smirk grows.
Maybe you're hallucinating. Maybe the thickening air in the room got to your brain and you're dreaming dangerously vividly, because, slowly, Seungkwan's face gets closer and closer, until your eyes can't focus on it anymore.
His breath tickles your cheek, the side of his mouth grazing yours just barely as he merges into your space. In fear of it all dissipating at the faintest move, you stop breathing.
Something moves on the side Seungkwan has chosen to torture you in. Something… vibrating?
Your phone comes into view in his hold as he hands it to you, smirk never fading.
"You should probably answer."
Has it been ringing this whole time? A quick glance at your notifications confirms your suspicions. You have at least 10 texts from Minghao, the latest reading: enjoy your night. You put it back before you blush again.
If Seungkwan stepped away, you'd tell him exactly what the text means, but he doesn't. And now you're sure you don't want him to.
Something takes over you. You sunbathed too close to the sun and the solar radiation has given you a new dose of long-lasting adrenaline. Or the thought that this fleeting moment will be over before you can do something real takes over.
He hasn't stepped away, his awaiting gaze and mouth slightly agape just a breath away from yours, and you take it as a sign.
You grab his face before he has the chance to turn around and lock lips with him. Desperate and hungry for his taste.
Seungkwan reciprocates immediately, as if he's been ready since you stepped into the room. He follows your mouth and takes everything you have to give, hands drifting everywhere he can touch and grab. If this was his plan all along, then you're happy to have fallen into his trap.
Your hands sneak inside the shirt you were so desperately waiting for him to put on, now ready to take off again.
Not even a second is wasted after he's shirtless once more. Seungkwan pins you against a closed, innocent locker, with a hand on the back of your head to shield you from the metal. His other hand shoves your hips together, opening your legs up to make space for him. You can feel every chest muscle you've memorized that hid under his uniform, pressing and flexing against you.
You sigh on his lips at the feeling of him getting hard against your inner thigh. His tongue dances with yours at the chance, taking control of the pace and giving you no choice but to melt against him.
Everything is so overwhelmingly him. His firm arms from years of training tensing under your touch, the taste of orange juice he drank earlier still present, his hair a mess due to the uniform and the wind, and now your fingers going through it.
His sure hands no longer guide your moves like out on the field, but rather sneak under the hem of your shorts to touch even more of you.
"Fuck," Seungkwan grunts without leaving space to breathe. "Is this okay?"
Crossing the line? His tongue leaving no space unknown in your mouth? His hands grabbing your ass? His hard length pressing against your core?
"More than okay," you breathe out and feel him smile against your lips.
He grabs the end of your shirt, already pushed so far up you might as well be without it. "Can I—" Your arms are up and the piece of clothing flies away before he finishes the question.
Seungkwan mutters a string of curses before he's on you again. The steady pace of his lips already on the edge of losing control. He kisses down your jaw and neck, leaving no patch of skin untouched.
Chests flushed together, the merciless warmth of the room is incomparable to the boiling heat growing at your center. Seungkwan's back glistens with sweat as well as you rake your fingers down to find his coaching pants.
“Take these off,” you demand.
He follows with a chuckle that makes your insides mush. You stare shamelessly down his bare legs, his boxers restraining his erection, his thighs that were just pressing you against the locker, the surgery scars above his knee and his feet facing forward.
A click of his tongue shoots your head back up. “You too,” he orders, shaking his head.
A wave of arousal swims down your spine at the tone of his voice. You follow immediately.
The pile of clothes stares from the side as Seungkwan traps you again. You chase after his lips —now that you tasted him, you never want to be not kissing him— but he moves his head back.
Your skin is hot against Seungkwan’s touch. His hands caress your hips and thighs as he stares in awe down your body.
“This is a dream,” his low voice is music to your ears.
You wrap a leg around his waist, inviting him to feel your pulsing core. Only because of him.
You can’t take it anymore. Months of pining finally erupted in one single day, and you’ll be damned if you don’t keep taking your chances, if you don’t go as far as he’ll let you.
“I want you,” you half-moan in his ear.
The deep breath he takes pushes you both closer as one hand travels over your stomach, teasing you over your panties before tugging them aside.
“Fuck—me too,” He hides on the crook of your neck, licking and moaning on your sensitive skin as his fingers work on your wet folds.
You grind against him, his hand and hips impossibly closer.
This is real, you think as Seungkwan opens you up easily. After his first touch, you were done for. Your walls welcome his thick digits warmly. His pace is steady, slow, so you get used to having him.
He lays open mouthed kisses on your throat. You moan into the air, letting him kiss you and thrust into you as he pleases. But your anticipation stumbles over his carefulness and patience. Every touch of his follows one single goal: having you come undone in his arms. He doesn't know how easy he has it.
“Tell me you have a condom in that big bag of yours.”
He halts his movements, your walls pulsing so hard around his fingers that they're pushed further inside.
“This—I,” your voice echoes in the room. “I need you, Kwannie.”
It's hard to believe you can utter intelligible words with how much Seungkwan's making you feel by just a few touches. There's more you want him to know, but your mind's a haze of kisses and touches and Seungkwan.
Slowly, Seungkwan plunges his fingers out of you, slick with arousal, and filthily cleans them up with his tongue. He gives you a peck before reluctantly stepping away, turning his back on your awed self. Now, the row lockers in front of yours feels kilometers away.
Your panties uncomfortably stick to your skin, and you take them off. The ghost of his touch stays with you, your thighs, your back, your lips, as he rummages through his things.
You can't avoid looking at his ass when he slips his boxers down. You hear a packet being teared open, and Seungkwan finds his way back between your legs.
Seungkwan bites back a moan as you wrap your hand around his erection. You slide up and down his shaft, followed by deep sighs against the side of your neck Seungkwan can't stop kissing. You never want him to.
“I—” he starts, breathing heavily. “I wanted this for so long.”
Hearing him voice your thoughts as his own, you hide from his gaze, laying your head on his shoulder. There's so little space between your bodies, you work on his length dangerously close to your dripping core.
“Me too,” you gasp.
And even if it's a fleeting moment. Even if you don't know if this will happen again, if it doesn't begin to explain how much he makes you feel, a weight was put off your shoulders.
Seungkwan takes over your hand, dragging his covered length along your wet fold. You sigh on his clavicle.
“Please,” you whisper.
The heat pooling where his core meets yours would be embarrassing if Seungkwan wasn't as desperate to feel you as you are him.
The head of his cock teases your opening and elicits drawn-out moans from both of you. The pressure has you sucking in a breath, anticipation building up the courage to wrap a leg around his waist and connecting your hips until he's all the way in.
“Fuck,” he grunts in your ear. It might be becoming your favorite word.
“I know.”
For a moment, silence envelops you as you take him in, only broken by shagged breaths. You look into Seungkwan’s eyes, trying to burn the memory into your mind.
How many nights have you wondered if you were wasting your time? A crush is just that, a crush, you'd repeat like a mantra, but it never worked. You'd clock in the next day and, as soon as your eyes lay on Seungkwan’s friendly grin, you'd be back at square one.
You smile at the memory and feel his lips against yours in return. His tongue runs over your lower lip, deepening the kiss as he begins thrusting. You both kiss like that, smiling like idiots naked in the locker-room.
You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning into his mouth as he stretches your walls to his shape.
The slow drag of his cock makes you delirious. Your back slams against the lockers as he snaps his full length inside. A curse leaves your mouth before he does it again, and again and again until your body shivers.
Seungkwan grabs your thigh on his hip and holds you tight. Each slam of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, and he doesn’t show any signs of stopping drilling his hips into you.
Your teeth find his neck, biting and kissing to muffle your sounds. He hits deeper with every thrust, and you can only take it and moan against him, gripping him to not lose balance. Your limbs cage his body against yours, and he has trouble keeping up with his pace, but that doesn't stop him from hitting every spot needed to make you see stars.
The wall of lockers shakes with each thrust, but neither of you care. With your leg wrapped around his waist and your nails digging into his back, the only thing in your mind is the knot on your lower stomach threatening to explode.
You've given up on kissing, your faces so close you moan into each other's mouths. Any sound you make, he replicates, and each time, your lips graze his.
Seungkwan holds you against the wall, steadying your trembling body as you grind your hips in search of your orgasm. He hardens his pace, chasing his own. Your insides crave every thrust, each getting you closer and closer.
Without warning, your orgasm explodes in burning pieces across your body. Your legs tremble around Seungkwan’s relentless hips, making you see stars in the thick air in the locker-room.
Your body falls limp against him. He holds you up effortlessly, prolonging your high. But before he reaches his own, he stops his hips and holds both your legs tight around him. You stop feeling the wall of lockers digging into your back, your feet up in the air as he walks back.
Seungkwan sits down on the bench. With you on top, the movement thrusts his hard further inside you.
With the most strength you can gather, you plop your knees by both sides of his hips and start grinding on him. Your tired walls hug him tightly, matching your slow pace. He doesn’t care. His hands roam your thighs and back with low grunts. You feel his length twitching inside you, and quickly, he’s cumming into the condom with a groan.
His hand on your jaw guides you to him, molding your lips together in a tender kiss, opposite to everything that just happened. You giggle into the kiss at the thought.
“What’s so funny?” Seungkwan asks, matching your smile.
He remains touching you everywhere he can. He’s still inside you, but his fingers feeling your skin lighting up because of him feels more intimate.
“Nothing,” you giggle again. “It’s just—we couldn’t go somewhere else?”
He nods, fighting back a chuckle. “We jumped right at it, didn't we?”
You kiss him again, wrapping your arms around his neck and flushing your chests together. The action makes his softening cock thrust lightly into you. You both moan at the feeling.
“We should—” he hesitates. “Do you want to come to my place?”
“You want another round already?” You joke, but feel his length twitch at the idea.
“Have dinner with me.” He locks eyes with you, the most serious you've ever seen him, even more than when the team doesn't follow his instructions.
“I will have dinner with you, coach Boo Seungkwan.”
At your response, Seungkwan hugs you and peppers kisses across your face. You just giggle and accept it.
When you separate after who knows how long, you both put on your clothes as fast as you can. You're in a rush to get out of the stadium, to go out into real life holding Seungkwan's hand and seeing his apartment and, hopefully, being part of his life.
You walk out the locker-room together in a comfortable silence as you assimilate everything.
“So, what was that with your phone earlier? It seemed urgent.”
You blush at his question. You'd forgotten about Minghao's teasing text to focus on kissing Seungkwan until you didn't feel or know anything else.
“I'm pretty sure he had us searching for that beanie on purpose,” you explain.
“Really? So, there was nothing left behind?”
“Nope.” The empty dining room comes into view, and the glass door to the street looks like a new beginning. “I think the two devils got to him.”
“Oh, I see.” Seungkwan chuckles, opening the door for you and locking it with his key after you're safely outside.
“You know what we should do?” The idea comes to you like an epiphany. “Set—”
“him and Soonyoung up?”
“—him up with Soonyoung.”
You both say at the same time.
On the way to Seungkwan's car and the drive to his apartment, you both plot the plan to get back at Minghao. A taste of his own medicine. Though, as soon as you cross the threshold of Seungkwan's front door, everything is forgotten as he traps you against the wall and kisses you like he hasn't in ages.
thank you so much for reading!! don't forget to check out the collab masterlist linked above!
if you liked this i'd love to read your comments! and if you didn't please don't tell me
OT13 reaction to their s/o laughing hard with another guy who speaks their language
Request: Hii! this is my first time sending you a request after reading your work over and over at night 😭😭 but i’ve had this idea in my head and i wanna request a seventeen reaction!!
could i please request seventeen reacting to the reader laughing/being really amused by a conversation with another guy? I kind of picture it like the reader and the member at a restaurant or store, maybe in another country where the primary language isn’t one the member speaks but the reader does, and the reader and a waiter or a worker are having a conversation and the reader just can’t stop laughing at the jokes the other person makes. That’s the scenario i imagine but you can write however you see fit and want to.
sorry if this is confusing it’s been something that pops into my head now and then and i’ve been so curious about how you’d write it because i love your work!!
A/N: HII omg ;-; first of all, this is SUCH a cute idea omg, and i’m really glad you finally sent a request!! im glad my writing gave you company heh
he notices fast. one second you’re talking politely and the next you’re laughing with your hand over your mouth, eyes crinkled. they pause and looks at you and him like 🤨 “…what’d he say?” then continues watching and trying to read your body language more than the conversation. you’re not flirting, BUT!! you’re comfortable. that’s what gets him. dont get me wrong, it’s not like he dont want you to be comfortable BUT YOU KNOWWWW??? will have to mention woozi specifically though. man pretends not to care, but his jaw tightens just a little but he doesn’t even interrupt!! just waits until you look back at him still smiling, and goes, “translate.” like bro youre about to translate a joke or a comforting convo rn. but man loves you.
lowk jealousy masked with curiosity — joshua, jun, vernon
joshua smiles ◠‿◠ automatically bc you’re laughing , then realizes he has no idea why lol. he leans closer. “is it… really that funny?” jun feels oddly left out, like he missed an inside joke. when you laugh again, he laughs too even though he doesn’t understand a word. vernon is like, “i feel like i’m watching a show without subtitles.” he’s not upset, but just confused and a little excluded.
trying not to be bothered (failing) — jeonghan, mingyu, minghao
he tilts his head and smiles, but there’s that bothered lowkey crease. “wow. he’s funnier than me?” suddenly very aware of how close the guy is standing to you. he tells himself it’s fine. he trusts you. still… [man is wants to be involved]. but then he reads the situation calmly. he’s not jealous of the guy bc he’s more interested in you. later, he’ll say, “you looked happy,” bc he knows you found comfort in that moment of familiarity.
can’t hide it at all — hoshi, seungkwan, dino
hoshi’s face does everything. confusion. suspicion. fake laughter. “HAHA—what’d he say? what’d he say?” kwan absolutely butts in. “okay but now i need context because why are you laughing like that with a stranger.” hes half serious btw. chan watches you laugh like that and feels this tiny sting but not anger, just that, i wanna be the one making you laugh, feeling. he doesn’t interrupt, just waits for you.
lowkey possessive but lowk about it — dokyeom
dokyeom smiles because your laugh is his favorite sound. but when it keeps going, he steps a little closer to you without realizing it. when the poor guy leaves, dk asks with that smile that we love, “what was so funny?” but yk you have an invoming long text at night bc he will sulk. when you explain, he laughs too but iys a little louder than necessary. but this makes you laugh too... maybe more than the other buy........
Ship: golden retriever bf!Mingyu x gn!reader
Genre: established relationship, fluff
Summary: you've been 'ignoring' mingyu, so he decides to give you a taste of your own medicine. except... this is mingy we're talking about.
a/n: haven't written a smau in a while! golden retriever + pouty gyu is my weakness
If you liked this story, check out my masterlist here!
summary: after a series of dates gone bad, your best friend soonyoung decides to set you up on a blind date with one of his closest friends - jihoon, a very reserved (and hot) producer.
words: around 7k
warnings: none really
a/n: this took me so long to write like i’m genuinely surprised i managed to finish it :oo anyways hope u guys enjoy!!
bad decisions always start with kwon soonyoung.
you were laying down on his couch, taking up half of the space, a pillow covering your face as you whined, an annoyed huff leaving your lips seconds later.
‘it’s like i can’t find one normal person to date. seriously, if i lower my standards any more they might hit the basement.’
your friend’s laugh echoed through the room as he sat down, kicking your legs off of the couch for some more space.
‘the problem, my dear, is that you have terrible taste.’ he stated, taking a sip of his beer. you immediately shot up, ready to defend yourself, but soonyoung stopped you before you even let a word out. ‘i don’t wanna hear any excuses - you literally dated a guy who made out with his mother on his birthday. freud is probably doing backflips in his grave.’
‘he was a family man!’ you protested. ‘a bit too much of a family man, but how was i supposed to know?’
soonyoung sighed.
you knew he was right - every other date you went out on ended up a mess. whether it was a guy who refused to wash his hand because his favorite idol touched it once (and you’ve found out that he actually hasn’t washed it for more than a couple of months at that point), a flat earther or a guy who insisted on a threesome with his girl best friend, none of them were normal in any way. and somehow you ended up back at the same place after ending things with each and every one of them: at soonyoung’s apartment, curled up on the couch wondering how did you let that happen again. soonyoung comforted you each time, as a good friend should, but to see you make one bad decision after another really irked him up.
‘let me set you up on a date.’
‘huh?’
the man put down the beer bottle and his phone on the couch, turning to face you.
‘if you can’t find someone normal yourself then let me help. i’ll set you up on a blind date and you won’t have to be so miserable anymore.’
‘absolutely not.’ you immediately shook your head. ‘this would never work out.’
‘you never know unless you try.’ he mumbled, back leaning against the couch. ‘besides, maybe you’d actually see what a normal date looks like, for once.’
you thought about it for a few seconds. much to your annoyance, soonyoung was right in that, too, and the idea of going on one more date wasn’t exactly the worst. whether it was going to end up being a disaster or not, you’ve been on enough dates to be prepared for almost every possible scenario. you’ve seen it all at this point - what’s one more bad date to talk about over a glass of wine once you’re older?
‘he better be normal, or i’m confiscating your tiger plushie collection.’
the only thing soonyoung told you was the name - lee jihoon. you recognized almost instantly: one of soonyoung’s long time friends, one of his closest friends as well. and yet somehow you’ve never met him before. hell, you didn’t even know what he looked like.
you arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early; soonyoung made a reservation for your date at a hotpot place near his apartment, a new spot that just opened a few months ago that you haven’t yet tried out. it wasn’t packed - there were a lot of people, but not enough for it to be crowded and uncomfortable.
nerves hit you as soon as you sat down at the table.
this wasn’t unusual either - you’d arrive early, stress out for the remaining few minutes, overthink what could possibly happen all until the date actually shows up. you looked around anxiously, eyes coming back to the entrance to the restaurant every now and then, scanning every face that passed through the door as you fiddled with your fingers under the table.
you looked down at your phone to kill some time (and hopefully ease your nerves at least a bit). the exact moment the clock hit 5pm you heard someone come in, quick footsteps getting louder as they approached your direction.
the man stopped in front of your table, eyes locking with yours for a few seconds without a word.
‘are you, uh- my date? soonyoung’s friend?’ you mumbled awkwardly, breaking the silence between the two of you. the man nodded, pulling back the chair to sit down. he extended a hand in your direction.
‘i’m jihoon, but i assume soonyoung told you as much.’ he said as he shook your hand. ‘sorry to keep you waiting.’
‘oh, you don’t have to apologize.’ you smiled politely, trying your best to appear chill. ‘i’m the one who came in early after all. anyways, um- have you ever been to this place?’
jihoon shook his head.
‘don’t really have the time to eat out to be honest. i usually just order takeout.’
‘busy with work?’
‘mhm.’
‘and what is it that you do?’
jihoon’s voice was calm and precise and so was his manner of speaking - short, factual sentences, no unnecessary words or oversharing details. one could say he was a complete opposite of your friend. but that wasn’t what surprised you about him the most.
what came as a surprise was his answer.
‘i’m a music producer.’ you made a little ‘wow’ sound, seemingly impressed with his answer. ‘it’s nothing special.’
‘i didn’t take you as the type.’ you said and jihoon raised an eyebrow. ‘i mean that you look so… serious. it’s surprising that someone as stoic as you is friends with soonyoung of all people.’
‘i’ve learned to tolerate him.’ he mumbled, eyes darting away from you and towards the waiter, gesturing for him to come to your table so that the two of you can order. ‘enough about me, though. shall we order something?’
you smiled, nodding politely.
the rest of the date went surprisingly pleasant - you had a nice conversation (or rather you talked non stop and he just listened, nodding or saying ‘mhm’ every once in a while), the food was good and jihoon, in true gentleman fashion, insisted on paying for the food and your cab home. but there was one thing that wouldn’t stop bothering you.
‘it was a disaster. can you believe he didn’t smile even once? and he spoke for like, maybe three minutes total.’
‘maybe it’s because you blabber too much.’ you heard jun say from the other side of the kitchen counter, the man not even sparing a second to look up at you from his phone. you rolled your eyes at his remark, trying to focus back on the cooking. ‘you should just ask soonyoung about it. i’m sure he told him something.’
‘yeah, mr. ‘i’m so mysterious i barely talk’ definitely told the biggest yapper on this planet about how his date went.’ you sighed, hand reaching towards the spices cabinet. ‘i think i would know by now. i’m surprised he even gave me his number.’
‘did you text him after?’ your friend asked, now standing up to head over to the fridge and get something to drink.
‘of course i did! i texted him when i arrived home to thank him for the good time spent and you know what he did? he sent me a thumbs up emoji. a thumbs up emoji, for christ sake!’
jun couldn’t help but chuckle at your dramatic reaction, sitting down once more as he opened the can of soda.
‘maybe he’s just a dry texter.‘
you sighed.
‘i don’t know. nonetheless, i don’t really expect to hear from him.’ you mumbled.
‘another bad date to cross off your list?’ jun asked, eyes already glued to the food you prepared for the two of you.
‘probably, yeah. it’s a shame, though. he’s cute. and a gentleman, too. he’s probably the first guy who didn’t even think of splitting the bill on the first date and paid before i had any say in the matter. i’m also almost a hundred percent sure he had a black card, but he put it back into his wallet before i could take a good look.’
your friend looked invested all of a sudden, even straightening his posture as a sign that he’s listening.
‘you said he works as a producer, right? and his name is-‘
‘lee jihoon.’
jun put down his utensils before he even managed to dig into the food, his eyes widening all of a sudden as if he’s just connected the dots.
‘girl, you literally went on a date with the legendary producer WOOZI. that is an honor in itself.’
your brain seemed to short circuit for a quick second after hearing your friend’s words.
everyone around you always obsessed over WOOZI - the legendary producer who built his own legacy from scratch, his determination and work ethic admired by many around the world. his work has been praised and recognised globally and he’s worked with some of the biggest stars in the world, producing number one hits that would top the charts for weeks on end. despite all that, the man wasn’t known as a public persona - his social media displayed only the songs he’s worked on and his private life was exactly that: private. no one really knew what WOOZI was like outside of his music. people who weren’t from his hometown wouldn’t be able to recognise him on the street or in a restaurant. but jun did. because he grew up in that very same town.
it was his favorite anecdote during a late night conversation or while randomly spitting facts about himself, only that now it held a lot more meaning. now you could put a face behind that nickname. a very handsome face, too.
‘wait, you’re telling me that dude is WOOZI?’
jun nodded quietly, a satisfied smile on his face.
‘i literally lived next door to him when i was younger. we weren’t exactly friends, though. i think he was a bit too shy to go and play outside most of the time.’
‘i think you were just too weird for him.’ you laughed, earning a smack on the head from your friend.
‘anyways, my point is,’ jun continued, seemingly ignoring your comment. ‘he’s obviously a busy guy. maybe wait a little to see what happens instead of immediately crossing him off of your list and denouncing him just another bad date.’
a week and a half has passed and you were laying comfortably on your couch, the sounds of some new reality show you’ve been watching filling up the room.
you took jun’s words to heart, still holding some hope that jihoon would text or call you, chalking up every day of it not happening to him being busy. but after so many days it was pretty difficult to hold onto that hope.
your phone started buzzing all of a sudden, the sudden sound making you jump. you looked over to the phone screen, immediately sighing as you saw the contact name.
kwon soonyoung.
if there’s one thing you’ve learned about him throughout the years of your friendship, it was that whenever soonyoung called you at a late hour like this it was one of two things:
1. he was drunk out of his mind and his friends called you from his phone to ask if you’d pick him up.
2. he wasn’t drunk out of his mind yet so he’d invite you to come and drink with him and his friends only to declare that he’s done for the day right as you arrive, leaving you in an awkward position as he did countless times before (his alcohol tolerance is so weak it should be studied).
you picked up the call and didn’t hear any coherent words on the other side of the phone, but you did hear soonyoung crying and wailing about something you couldn’t quite understand. that was until someone else took the phone.
‘i’m sorry for him, he’s drunk beyond comprehension.’ you recognized the voice instantly, even though you only heard it once before. ‘could i trouble you with picking him up from here?’
so it was option number one.
‘can’t you do it yourself since you’re already with him?’ you furrowed your brows, surprised at the question. ‘you don’t sound drunk to me.’
‘i’m working.’ jihoon’s voice was stern on the other side of the phone and you could still hear the faint sounds of soonyoung in the background.
‘then what is soonyoung doing there?’
‘he likes to terrorize me.’
you looked at the clock on the wall and then sighed, loud enough for the man to hear it.
‘drop me the address and i’ll pick him up.’
the drive was fairly quick - surprisingly enough, jihoon’s studio wasn’t that far from your apartment and, conveniently, even closer to soonyoung’s. that information did brighten up your mood a little; it meant that you won’t have to waste too much of your time on your drunk friend and that you’d be able to swiftly come back to watching the new episode of your show.
you looked at the message jihoon sent containing the instructions of how to get to his studio, the thumbs up he sent more than a week ago sitting right above it. once you finally found the door (with the slight help of hoshi’s extremely loud voice) you knocked on it lightly, being met with jihoon’s figure right in front of you barely seconds after.
he looked… tired.
‘hi.’
‘hi.’ jihoon mumbled, hand running through his short hair. ‘i’m sorry you had to drive here at this hour.’
‘it’s no problem.’ you said, a small smile making its way onto your lips. ‘why are you here so late anyways? it’s way past working hours.’
‘i have deadlines to meet.’ he explained shortly, opening the door wider to let you in. ‘i’m used to it by now.’
you nodded, eyes roaming around the room - the equipment, a large couch in the corner (currently occupied by hoshi), a bunch of figurines from different animes. it was all kept pretty minimalistic, exactly what you expected of jihoon.
you didn’t have much time to contemplate the interior, though, as you were soon met with the weight of drunk soonyoung’s body on yours, the man almost making you stumble.
‘yah, my favorite friend!’ he cried out, capturing you in a tight hug. ‘jihoon won’t let me record a song about tigers here. he’s a bad guy!’
you looked over to jihoon. he just shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips.
‘yeah, he’s such a bad guy.’ you said. ‘but the bad guy has work to do and you need to go home before you fall asleep, because i won’t be carrying you to your apartment.’
‘but i wanna record my song!’ soonyoung said, voice sulky. for a second you almost felt bad for him.
‘i’ll let you do it once i’m done with this project, alright?’ jihoon asked, a last effort for his friend to agree to leave him alone for now. soonyoung’s face lit up immediately, nodding excitedly as you dragged him out of the studio, shooting the man a quick goodbye before he closed the door.
on your way back, after you’ve already managed to get soonyoung tucked away in his bed and were ready to get inside your car your phone buzzed again. yet this time it was jihoon who the notification was from.
‘thank you for helping today. i’ll owe you.’
you smiled unconsciously, typing back an answer.
‘invite me out somewhere after your done with your project and we’ll be even.’
you weren’t even mad when he sent you another thumbs up emoji as a response.
soonyoung rolled his eyes as he heard you sigh for the fifth time in the span of the last few minutes, another outfit discarded and thrown onto the bed as you stood in front of your closet.
‘remind me, what was wrong with that first dress again?’ he mumbled as you rummaged through the hangers full of clothes.
‘the neck line. too slutty.’
‘wear something red. it’s jihoon’s favorite color.’ he mumbled quietly, going on his phone. you stopped in your movements, head almost cartoonishly turning towards your friend. next thing he knew, you threw a shoe at him. he let out a little ‘ow’, laughing right after.
‘and you decide to tell me that after i’ve tried on twelve different outfits and almost had a mental breakdown?’
‘it was funny seeing you so frustrated.’
another shoe flew in soonyoung’s direction, this time missing the boy and landing behind the bed.
you decided to abstain from any verbal comments towards your friend and his visible lack of help, turning your focus towards the closet yet again.
you had too many clothes for your own good - not so many that you would call yourself a hoarder, but your collection was definitely quite impressive, with garments for almost every occasion and event. still, it seemed to not be enough as you were tasked with picking an outfit for a dinner with jihoon.
he texted you back two weeks after you helped him with getting hoshi out of his studio - even apologised for just how long it took. the invitation wasn’t anything overtly special. no mention of it being a date: just a ‘thank you’ dinner at a ramen place he really likes, with a note to wear something pretty and elegant but still casual.
what the hell does that even mean?
after some time had passed you managed to decide on an off-shoulder dark red long sleeve paired with a flowy, black maxi skirt you bought at a 50% off sale once last year and wore two times since. you sighed, looking at yourself in the mirror one last time, soonyoung giving you a thumbs up in the background.
you arrived at the restaurant five minutes early and, to your surprise, jihoon was already there, standing in front of the entrance with headphones on, eyes looking down at his phone. you smiled unconsciously at the view. he seemed to notice your presence quite quickly - gaze locking with yours, hand already reaching to hide the phone in his pocket.
you greeted him. jihoon stayed silent for a solid ten seconds.
‘hello, earth to jihoon!’ you said, brows furrowed in confusion.
‘ah, sorry.’ he mumbled, seemingly zoning back in, ears a little red. ‘hi. you look… pretty.’
you could see a small smile on his face and that, along with the comment, almost caught you off-guard. you prayed that the dim lights inside the restaurant wouldn’t let him see the faint crimson color creeping up your cheeks.
you managed to mumble a quiet ‘thank you’ before the two of you sat down at your table, silence taking over for a good few minutes.
‘so, how did your project go?’ you asked to get a conversation going, jihoon looking up from the menu and at you.
‘good.’ he said shortly, with no further explanations. ‘tiring.’ he added after a few beats of silence.
‘you should rest for a bit.’ you stated and as jihoon focused on your face, he couldn’t help but notice the slight worry that appeared at his second comment. ‘even a legendary producer such as WOOZI deserves some time off.’
jihoon blinked once. twice.
that’s when you realised.
‘you know i’m-‘
‘ah, it came out the wrong way, it’s not like i’m stalking you or anything i promise!’ you said, words almost blurring into one another due to the speed with which they came out of your mouth. ‘i have this friend, jun, and i obviously told him about our date because that man is as nosy as they get, and then he started a story about how he used to live next door to you when you were children or something. sorry.’
jihoon laughed.
it wasn’t a loud laugh, one that would make your stomach hurt, no. it was more of a small giggle, quiet and sudden, as if he found this situation utmost amusing.
‘don’t be.’ he said, still smiling gently. ‘you would’ve probably found out anyways. if not from jun, then from soonyoung.’
‘i shouldn’t be surprised to hear that he knows.’ you mumbled, still slightly embarrassed.
‘he’s my closest friend. he’s known about it for years.’ jihoon stated shortly as the food arrived. ‘and i don’t mind you knowing about it either.’
jihoon’s smile faded quickly as he heard his phone buzzing, the contact name on his phone making him frown. he excused himself for a second, that second turning into five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes. when he came back to the table your plate was already almost empty, while his food was way past being warm - as of someone put his bowl inside the freezer for the entirety of the time he was talking on his phone.
he sat down, running a hand through his hair as he sighed quietly.
‘did something happen?’ your voice was filled with concern as you looked at him.
‘they still want some changes on the project i just finished. i should probably go back to the studio today.’
‘oh.’
jihoon was visibly annoyed with the information he received on the phone as he looked around, unsure of what to do next.
‘we can reschedule this.’ your voice got him out of his thoughts, eyes looking up at you. ‘we’ll meet for this date- dinner another day and you’ll be done with this work thing faster.’
‘i don’t want to make you wait.’ he mumbled.
‘i don’t mind.’
the truth was different - you did mind, you mumbled as you cursed yourself out in your head on your way home. truth be told, you wanted him to stay there, to finish the food and chat, maybe even invite him over for a movie (normally that offer would also include a drink or two, but you’ve learned that jihoon didn’t drink often). the other side of you, the one who spoke that day, knew that he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the evening with the thoughts of another deadline clouding his head. guess you’ll just have to be patient.
you did notice a slight shift in his behavior, though. he reached out from time to time via messages (you still celebrate that as a small win - going from a thumbs up to normal texts with jihoon is a huge achievement), asking about your day or trying to reschedule your meeting, with little success. he even sent you a snippet of a song he’s been working on once, much to your surprise, asking for your input on it and claiming he has no one to ask about it and he needs someone else’s opinion. the texts weren’t by all means an everyday thing - more so like a ‘let me pop up out of the blue at the most random hour of the day with a wyd text’ type of thing, but they still brought a dumb smile to your face whenever you saw a notification from him pop up on your phone.
that being said, there was one issue.
the rescheduling of the dinner which has been cut short by his work has turned into a hellish experience. you could count the amount of times you were set on a particular date only to hear a day before that he won’t be able to get there and that you’ll need to reschedule again (with tons of apologies, of course) on the fingers of both your hands.
it started to be frustrating after a while - you knew he didn’t mean for it to seem like he didn’t want to meet up with you, but with each rescheduling you felt more and more as if that was the case, and not his work getting in the way. the most you got when it came to meeting him in real life was bumping into him at the grocery store in the middle of the night, both of you surprised as you searched through the snack aisle to find something to ease that random need for food at 2am. but that was it.
until you got a message from soonyoung about his birthday party.
soonyoung was always big on spending that day with all of the people he cherished the most - he loved having them around for his special day. there were always some no-shows, much to his dismay, but he’s gotten used to it considering how busy adult life can get sometimes.
when the notification first popped up you could only see the beginning of the text and you started to wonder whether jihoon would be there or not. definitely not, you thought, considering his lifestyle. but then you opened the chat as you arrived home and saw the rest of the messages soonyoung had sent - an overly excited explanation on how jihoon will actually show up this time, filled with too many exclamation marks and capital letters.
you didn’t admit it to yourself, but this year you were counting down the days to your best friend’s birthday for a different reason.
your mind kept running around the thought of ‘when is jihoon going to arrive’ from the moment you stepped foot in soonyoung’s apartment, immediately met with your already tipsy best friend and a few other familiar faces.
two months have passed, and you’ve actually managed to meet up with jihoon in that period of time, this time without his job interrupting him. soonyoung was surprised upon hearing that you’ve managed to drag the man to watch a rom com with you at the cinema, claiming that if it’s not anime, jihoon never agrees to watch anything with him, a sulky face following right after as he accused you of getting special treatment.
the other time it was per his request, a dinner in a quiet restaurant out of town that he heard about from one of his work friends, vernon, who claimed it was a ‘hidden gem’. you had to give it to the guy, he was right - the food was delicious and the cozy atmosphere made it easier for a conversation to flow naturally, allowing both you and jihoon to ease up a bit.
jihoon was still pretty reserved, but you caught the small differences in behavior, the slight changes in how he acted around you: how he would talk more comfortably and smile more, how the tips of his ears turned red whenever you complimented his music, how his hand grazed yours ever so slightly a couple of times as you two walked back to the car, how you could feel his gaze on you when you were looking in the other direction. you didn’t mention it to soonyoung - knowing him he would never let jihoon live it down - and instead kept those observations to yourself.
you were chatting with wonwoo, one of soonyoungs friends who you’ve played mariokart with (and promised yourself to never do it again because he won every single goddamn time), when you heard soongyoung's unmistakable voice over the music playing from the speakers as he squealed with excitement. your eyes moved towards the door and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight in front of you.
jihoon stood awkwardly, one leg inside the apartment while the other was still out in the hallway, trapped by soonyoung’s arms in a hug that looked a little too tight for his liking. he caught your gaze and smiled weakly, shaking his head with disappointment as he saw you laughing at the state he was in.
after finally being freed from soonyoung’s embrace, jihoon went on to greet the other people he knew, eventually landing on you and wonwoo. the taller man furrowed a brow as he watched jihoon give you a quick hug, hands loosely around your waist.
when the man left, dragged away by soonyoung, you gave wonwoo a look, as if asking him to elaborate on why he looked at the two of you that way.
‘jihoon isn’t the type for physical contact.’ he said, taking a sip of his beer. ‘i’ve only seen him hug soonyoung and mind you, he wasn't the one initiating it.’
you nodded, silently taking in wonwoo’s words as your eyes traveled through the room and landed on jihoon once again, now standing by the kitchen counter as soonyoung searched through the fridge to find the coke zero he always kept for his best friend. now that you thought about it, what wonwoo said made perfect sense - jihoon wasn’t one to initiate any form of physical contact, but it didn’t bother you much. even a short hug like the one he gave you today seemed out of the blue for him.
you decided to cast these thoughts aside for now, focusing rather on the party itself and not so much on the man whose eyes you’ve caught staring at you too many times to count that evening.
you’ve enjoyed the party a lot - it was entertaining to see soonyoung starting to cry at the mere sight of his birthday cake being tiger shaped, shedding another few tears as he noticed most of the gifts had a tiger theme going for them as well. the food was good, the atmosphere was nice, the people made for nice company for the evening, filling the room with constant laughter. safe to say the evening was a success, although it ended a bit earlier than some might’ve expected, with soonyoung falling dead asleep soon after he opened and thanked everyone for the gifts. you were one of the last people to leave: seeing the mess in your best friend’s apartment, you couldn’t help but clean it up at least a little bit before eventually leaving to go back to your place.
jihoon caught up to you on your way to the elevator, offering you a small smile as he walked next to you in silence.
‘i’m glad soonyoung’s party was a success.’ you spoke up first as the two of you stood in the elevator, waiting for it to get down. ‘you know he’d be sulking about it for the next month if it wasn’t to his liking.’
jihoon chuckled at your remark, nodding.
‘yeah. we wouldn’t hear the end of it.’ he mumbled, stepping out of the elevator. ‘want me to, uh, walk you home?’
you stood quietly for a second, a small smile on your face.
‘yeah. i’d like that.’
the walk was quiet for the most part - only the sounds of occasional cars driving by breaking the perfect silence as you and jihoon walked side by side, hands dangerously close to each other in a way that you felt the heat radiating off of his skin.
there was a fleeting thought in your mind telling you to grab his hand, wondering what it would feel like against your own, whether his skin was soft or not, whether his palm was bigger than yours. it took everything in your power to keep yourself from taking your hand in his as you walked next to him.
little did you know, jihoon’s mind was hung on the exact same thought.
he kept brushing his hand against yours almost on purpose - to see if you’d shy away or take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together. much to his dismay, you did neither; which meant that if he wanted it to happen, he’d have to initiate it.
he cursed himself out in his head for being so anxious over something as simple as hand holding. sure he’s done that before - he wasn’t exactly unpopular amongst his friends in high school - but adult life hasn’t gave him much time for going on dates or anything of this sort. for jihoon, this felt like experiencing these feelings for the first time all over again.
his fingers lightly grazed yours once more and this time jihoon’s hand moved to hold yours with a light grip, eyes falling to your face for just a second to spot any reaction. he smiled just for a split second when he saw the rosy shade on your cheeks.
you kept your composure outside but there was no denying that the moment jihoon’s hand met yours you could feel that funny, tingly feeling inside you, one which seemed to be missing from all the other dates you’ve been on before.
it was a bummer that your apartment wasn’t that far from soonyoung’s, you thought. you would’ve killed for the walk to be a little bit longer, just so you could hold jihoon’s hand for a few more seconds, maybe minutes.
‘guess i’ll go now’ jihoon’s voice brought you out of your thoughts as the two of you stood in front of the building, the man’s hand still holding yours. ‘have a good night’s sleep.’
he offered you a small smile as you felt his hand loosen its grip on yours. you held it tighter in response, jihoon blinking in confusion.
‘wait.’
you tugged at the front of jihoon’s shirt with your free hand pulling him closer to you and next thing he knew your lips were on his, captured in a sweet but delicate kiss.
his body tensed up almost immediately, surprised by the sudden action. you seemed to feel it too, as you pulled away from the boy, an unsure look on your face.
‘uh, sorry for that, i didn’t mean to make you uncomforta-‘
‘it’s okay.’ was all jihoon managed to mumble, senses still overwhelmed from the kiss you just gave him, the touch still lingering on his lips. ‘goodnight, y/n.’
jihoon turned around and walked away as quickly as he could, afraid that if he turned around again you might’ve seen just how red his face was, how flustered the kiss made him. he knew it wasn't the best thing to do - he knew he’d regret it the moment he took the first step - but he kept walking.
you stood there confused, mind replaying the scene and trying to catch onto whether you did something wrong, whether jihoon just needed the time to process his feelings or whether you made too bold of a step. eventually you just sighed, eyes still watching jihoon as he disappeared around the corner, and went inside the building.
it took you a long time filled with tossing, turning and overthinking to finally fall asleep that night.
maybe it was embarrassment, maybe it was how he left you hanging that night, but you haven’t reached out to jihoon for a few days and you’ve soon realised that he wasn’t going to reach out either - or at least that was the conclusion you came to after day three of no messages.
you came back to the mundane routine - work, coming back home, falling asleep on the couch while watching some reality show that sounds and looks exactly like the one you’ve just finished. you tried to occupy your thoughts with everything but jihoon and yet your finger lingered over your phone screen every time you saw his name in your contacts, almost tempting you to message him.
the tv screen lit up the room as you looked through the pictures you took on your digital camera during soonyoung’s birthday, edited and ready to be sent to the birthday boy. your laptop laid on the coffee table in front of you as you opened the mail app, ready to drop the pictures and sent them to your friend, but a certain notification caught your attention.
your brows furrowed with confusion as you noticed one unread message from jihoon.
dear y/n,
i am too much of a coward to express this in real life, or at least do that in a proper manner without my words melting together into one incoherent mess, hence here i am. i hope this message doesn’t seem too out of the blue for you, but it has been incredibly hard for me to keep these thoughts and feelings to myself - and what better person to share them with than the one who these feelings concern?
my lifestyle, the job that i have, it does not exactly allow me to indulge in romance too much - i simply have no time for it. soonyoung always said that i should open up more but it was easier said than done. and yet, somehow, with you it was easy. almost too easy, i thought - so easy it scared me to think of it. i did my best to keep you at a distance all this time, to shield myself from accidentally growing to like you, putting boundaries when it was already all too late. i’d only be hurting myself and you if i were to try and keep denying what has been flourishing in my heart.
i’m sorry i walked away without almost any words that night - i was surprised, but that does not justify me leaving you without an answer. truth is, my mind hasn’t stopped thinking about you ever since we first met and even more so ever since you first kissed me - i’m afraid i will only spiral in those thoughts until they make me a madman. only the image of you could calm me enough to have a good night’s sleep while also being the sole reason i couldn’t possibly focus on my work no matter how much i tried to after i woke up. you haunt my every thought no matter day or night and you have been for days, weeks now. i feel like a fool in love writing this - something i never expected to happen to me. and yet here i am. i know i haven’t shown it much - lord knows i’m the last person to be good with my actions - but let this letter be an evidence of my love if i’ve yet to learn how to properly showcase it to you.
if you’re willing to have me despite all this: my demeanour, my busy nights, all my flaws then you’re more than welcome to visit me at my studio. you know i’m always there anyways.
love,
lee jihoon.
you never expected jihoon to be so vulnerable in front of you. and yet here it was - a confession you never expected to hear, words you never thought you’d read coming from the man who occupied all your thoughts for the past months.
and that’s when you noticed.
that message has been sitting in your inbox for a week now. seven whole days.
he wrote that message after soonyoung’s birthday - twenty four hours later, to be exact.
you don’t remember ever running as fast towards your car as you did that day.
your body moved before your mind could even comprehend what was happening - you weren’t even sure if you closed the door to your apartment, if you turned the tv off. you were too focused on getting to jihoon’s studio as fast as you possibly could.
jihoon was startled as he heard the sharp banging on the door to his studio, the sound clearly heard even with headphones on. upon opening the door, he didn’t even have time to say anyth8g, let alone open his mouth to speak, before you interrupted him.
‘i got your message.’ your words almost melted together with how fast you were speaking and if it wasn’t for jihoon’s great hearing he wouldn’t have understood it. ‘i’m sorry i read it so late, i’m sorry it took me so long to find but- scratch that, who writes a love confession and sends it on damn mail? i would’ve read it sooner if i had gotten it through a fucking pigeon or something. but we can talk bout your flirting techniques later - it’s not the important thing right now.’
‘and what is that?’ jihoon took a small step back, allowing you inside. ‘the important thing.’
‘i love you.’ your words echoed through the room. jihoon blinked once, like he wasn't expecting you to actually say it out loud. ‘i don’t care how much of your time this job takes up, i really don’t care if you think this won’t work out. i’m willing to try.’
you swore you’ve never seen jihoon smile this hard.
‘if i kiss you now, will you kiss me back this time?’ you said, taking a small, unsure step towards the man.
jihoon didn’t answer with words. instead he closed the door behind you, the closing the gap between the two of you in one, swift motion. his lips clashed with yours and this time it was him initiating the kiss, hands finding their way to your waist while yours laid comfortably against his chest.
‘this feels nice.’ he mumbled, breaking the kiss. you rested your forehead against his, smiling at the man.
‘well, you would’ve had that earlier if you sent that through messages like a normal person.’ your remark made jihoon chuckle, his usually pale cheeks a light shade of pink. ‘how did you even get my mail?’
‘you gave it to me so that i can send you the folder i use to blackmail soonyoung.’
‘ah, right.’
both of you laughed in unison as you leaned in to kiss jihoon again.
‘does that mean we’re dating now?’ you asked, faces milimeters from each other.
one of jihoon’s hands let go of your waist to gently cup your cheek.
‘i don’t know. you might have to kiss me once more to find out.’
cw: none? reader staying on that only-sleeping-with-a-stuffed-animal agenda, way too much backstory bc i yap
a/n: hey kings, writing this instead of a request as a late bday gift to my moot @lavoilee!! not sure who ur svt bias is so i chose randomly lolol, hope you enjoy!! getting back to doing requests in shorter amounts of time, i just had a hard time thinking of smth good for this haha
jihoon is a weird guy.
okay, let's rephrase that: he's been acting like a weird guy. you can't tell if he's mad at you or in love with you, and you're determined to find out what's up.
it all started one afternoon at a café with your friend. you were both chatting around, just catching up. as both of you sipped on your coffees, the topic had gone from work, to gossip, to... medical check ups?
"how've you been sleeping? 'cause i sure have not been sleeping well," she'd asked randomly, widening her eyes in exasperation and taking another sip of her drink.
"hasn't been that great for me either," you sighed truthfully, recalling the sleepless nights you'd been having since jihoon had been on tour and started promotions for his comeback right after. you were truly proud of him, but it sure did suck not having him to hold onto when he would stay at the studio for the night.
your friend giggled, "why? because your 'jihoonie' hasn't been home?" she teased, mocking the name you accidentally called him while she was over at your place a couple months ago. "oh my god, stop it." you slapped her on the shoulder.
"you know i'm right, though." she teased again, wavering when you glared at her. "okay, okay, but i'm being serious. i remember when my boyfriend went on a business trip i was up all night," she exaggerated, rolling her eyes when you raised an eyebrow at her "up all night as in tossing and turning till my alarm went off. anyways, i ended up buying a stuffed animal to replace him, and it worked! maybe i should start using that again..."
"hm, maybe that'll help," you pondered, writing a reminder to search for one before another conversation began to sprout out of your friend.
that evening, you spent yet another restless night looking through the internet, finally settling on a moderately sized stuffed animal of a black cat after a couple hours of searching. after typing down your (jihoon's) credit card number, your phone vibrated with a call from your boyfriend.
you set your laptop aside and accepted the call, "hoon?"
"hey, babe. um, na pd just kidnapped us again- i'm going to be in france for a week. i'm really sorry, i promise you i didn't know about it till today..."
it took everything in your power not to let out a sigh, but he seemed to tell.
"i understand if you're mad or suspicious, hell, i'd be too. let me facetime you so i can show you that i'm really being kidnapped."
you hummed in response, accepting the facetime call that popped up on your phone not a second later. it was laggy for sure, but you could tell he was at an airport and that hoshi and wonwoo were seated next to him. they both waved happily.
"sorry he couldn't be home y/n! don't get too mad at him- hey!" hoshi called, yelping when wonwoo slapped him.
"ignore him, you should be as mad as you please." wonwoo smiled before hoshi pounced on him. jihoon turned the camera back to him.
"yeah, that's how it's been going. i'll call you as often as i can, okay? i'll make it up to you somehow."
ugh, you couldn't be mad at that, so holding back a sigh, you put on the most undisappointed smile you could muster. "it's okay jihoon, have fun okay? send me lots of photos."
he smiled back, "okay, i love you. and it's late, go to sleep soon, please." he finally said, waiting for you to say it back before he waved a goodbye and hung up.
you flopped back on the couch in disappointment- another week of this? could you even take more of it? "at least i could put that thing to use," you thought as sleep finally began to take over.
two days later, you opened a brown box to reveal a vacuum sealed black blob. you wondered if you got scammed after cutting the plastic off to reveal a slightly less smushed black blob with cat ears. nonetheless, it was too late to return it now, so you just went on with your day, abandoning it in your room.
when you came back that evening, however, you were greeted by the cat you were promised in all of its stuffed glory. now that it was inflated, you could see that the money paid had been worth it. happy with your purchase, you quickly took a shower and got ready for bed.
by 11pm, you were in bed, wrapping up a facetime call with jihoon as the stuffed animal laid besides you. you were both saying your goodbyes when he noticed it next to you.
"did you get a cat?"
you let out a confused noise before looking around you to find the cat he was referring to.
"this? no, it's just a stuffed animal," you explained, holding up the cat plush and waving it in the camera.
"ah, i see. why'd you get it?"
"oh, you know... just to help..." you answered sheepishly in embarrassment. he raised an eyebrow at your answer then simply nodded.
"hm, well.. enjoy it while it lasts. goodnight to you, love you." he said quickly, hanging up right after, leaving you confused with a hand still on the cat.
"enjoy it while it lasts? how weird." you mumbled, sending a quick message in confusion before laying down. it was weird; with the stuffed animal underneath your arms, the bed all of the sudden seemed more comfortable, and a sudden feeling of coziness filled you. you felt less alone.
and before you were able to silence your phone, turn on white noise, everything you normally did to help you sleep, you were passed out.
so, with the success of that night, you began to sleep with it everyday. it really did seem to work, and you made a mental note to thank your friend when you saw her again.
before you knew it, it was the night before jihoon was said to return to korea. you sent him a message, telling him you were going to sleep and laid down with your newfound cuddle buddy. you wrapped your arms around the cat, and fell sound asleep within minutes.
this is where the weirdness began.
you woke up, stirring to the sound of your door opening to find jihoon in the room, suitcase in one hand and wearing a weird expression. it was weirdly neutral, yet still made you uneasy. he looked... mad?
"hoon? you said you weren't coming back till tomorrow.." you murmured. "why do you look like that?"
"look like what?"
"you look mad" you said truthfully, rubbing your eye to get a better look at him.
"i'm not mad? i think you're still sleepy." he said, walking over and joining you on the bed. he tried to get closer to you but was blocked by something. "what's this?"
"i told you, i got a stuffed animal." you answered sleepily holding it up in front of him. "hm, well you don't need it." he said, grabbing it and tossing it across the room.
"hey, be nice to juni."
"you named it??"
"yeah, so what. meanie." you told him, turning away from him. you weren't actually mad, about 5 seconds away from turning back around to hug him, but he sighed before you could do anything. he scooted closer, wrapping his arms around you and somehow getting (more like manhandling) you to turn around.
"babe, i'm sorry. i missed you a lot. i don't know why i threw the cat- i mean juni." he apologized sincerely before nuzzling into your neck, throwing you completely off guard.
you had not meant for him to take your 'sulking' seriously, and also, you two had never cuddled like this, with him being the little spoon. it wasn't that you minded, but jihoon was never big on physical affection in the first place, so it was odd, but nonetheless, you accepted it.
"hoonie, it's fine. i don't care about it that much," you giggled, stroking his hair. "i'm just glad you're home, you came earlier than i thought." you commented. he nodded in response. "just wanted to surprise you." is all he said, snuggling into you further before knocking out.
the only problem was that after about a week of sleeping with the cat, it sort of became a habit, so the same thing happened for the next 3 days. you would fall asleep with the cat, wake up to jihoon looking mad at you, and then he would start cuddling with you as if he was a whole different person.
which leads you to now.
instead of consulting with him like a normal person, you decide to go to your friend, the same one who suggested getting the stuffed animal in the first place.
"isn't it obvious?" she says after hearing your story. you're both at the same café, sipping the same drinks and everything. you look at her in confusion. "if it was obvious, i don't think i'd be asking? come on, just tell me." you plead, desperate to get your boyfriend to stop scaring you in the middle of the night.
"fine, fine. i'll tell you... he obviously wants you to cuddle with him!"
"yeah, that's what we've been doing. for the past 4 years we've been dating" you deadpan, but she just rolls her eyes at you. "okay yeah, but not like that." she explains, rolling her eyes again when you're dumbfounded.
"he wants you to cuddle with him like how you cuddle that cat! duh! is that not how you hug it or what?" she exaggerates, nearly standing up at how oblivious you are. you take a minute to think back to the last couple nights.
huh, maybe she's right (again? seriously, you got to stop boosting her ego). you normally slept with the stuffed animal with it tucked under your head, was jihoon really jealous of that? come to think of it, he'd always been the big spoon, but it's not like you two had assigned roles to each other or anything, so why would he wait so long just for you to cuddle with him like that? must be some weird double standard bullshit.
anyways, now you have a plan. the goal? to get jihoon to admit his fears once and for all (and partially for him to stop looking at you weirdly in the middle of the night).
when you get home, jihoon's passed out on the couch. not a problem. you go along with your day, finish some coursework, and then get ready for bed. essentially, you do everything you'd do on a normal day, but when it's time for bed, you call out for your boyfriend.
"jihoon! shouldn't you go shower?" you ask. he groans from the living room, shuffling around before entering the bedroom, opening some drawers and pulling out random clothes from it. "i'll be back soon," he says, entering the bathroom. "i'll wait for you～" you sing song back.
only 15 minutes later, he's walking out of the bathroom in his usual sleep wear, no shirt and black shorts. if this had been around 4 years ago when you started living together, you would've gawked at the sight, but by now you were used to it (more like, you learned how to control your reaction).
you put down your phone and watch intently as he walks over. "why are you looking at me like that-" he's cut off mid-question when you drag him onto the bed as soon as he's close enough.
he lands with an 'oomph' and you use all your strength to pull him so he's tucked into you. you honestly think he's going to pop straight back up, but he doesn't, simply complying and cuddling closer to you.
"do you like this?" you ask, holding him close. he seems taken aback; his breath hitches against your neck, and there's a long silence before he answers. "um..."
"i knew it! why didn't you just say so baby?" you say, almost teasingly. he groans, but doesn't push back. if anything, he gets closer, trying to hide the obvious flush that starts to spread across his face. you don't tease him any further, deciding he's embarrassed enough, and simply continue to hold him in a comfortable silence.
"but seriously, why didn't you tell me? i have no problem with it." you ask after a while, looking down to check if he's even awake when a minute passes without an answer. he looks up at you shyly before explaining.
"i didn't even know i liked it until i came home and saw you hugging that thing, really. i guess i was jealous of it? i couldn't tell until i was in that position and realized that i enjoyed it. it felt weird to ask for it, so i just waited till you were.. dazed? god, that sounds bad." he says, putting his head down at the last sentence.
you laugh, "what?? i didn't know you were so evil my hoonie." you tease, letting him break free from your grasp and use juni to smack you in the face. and you decide you're not taking that, so a pillow fight breaks out, except he's still clutching onto the cat with his life, not letting it go as he swings at you. before long, you both give up, landing on the bed, sweating and hearts pounding.
you're both laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling. "wow, it's really been awhile since i did that." he comments, turning his head at you. maybe that's only something you hear in movies, but you don't care. "come over here, you sappy guy."
he listens, rolling over and letting you tuck him into your chest. "your sappy guy, right?" he asks, voice vibrating against you.
"my sappy guy? maybe i should've been doing this from the start-" and he's hitting you again.
kim mingyu x foreign reader
content: fluff, established relationship
- synopsis: trying to keep up with mingyu’s fast talking.
A/N: i had SO much fun writing this. I love the way he speaks smmm😭😭
in the beginning, you thought your korean was good.
you’d been studying for a while, could hold conversations, order food, joke a little. you were confident enough to call yourself almost fluent. and then you met mingyu.
because mingyu doesn’t talk. he fires sentences.
the first few weeks of dating were full of moments where he’d get excited, lean closer to you, and suddenly unleash a whole paragraph in one breath. no pauses. hands moving, voice getting faster and faster it’s almost like his thoughts couldn’t wait for his mouth to catch up.
he’d freeze. eyes widening. “wait was that too fast?”
then immediately launch into an apology just as fast, which somehow made it worse.
sometimes you’d nod along even when you only caught every third word. sometimes you’d laugh and admit you were lost. sometimes he’d realize halfway through and stop himself, switching to slower korean, careful and soft, checking your face every few seconds like, are you with me?
it became a thing.
mingyu rambling. you stopping him with a smile.
“kim mingyu. breathe.”
now, it’s different.
now you understand him. not just the words, but the way he talks. the rhythm. the way he speeds up when he’s excited, when he’s nervous, when he’s trying to explain something he really cares about. you don’t need him to slow down anymore.
sometimes you even finish his sentences.
and when he realizes that he’s mid ramble and you respond perfectly, catching every word he just stops and stares at you like he’s a little in love all over again.
seokmin didn't want to be called cute by you anymore.
[ warnings \ tropes ] fluff, comfort (?), established relationship, boyfriend seokmin, kissing, pouty seokmin!, mention of an ex, soft seokmin hours are so back
[ saint's voice note ! ] been in a bit of a seokmin mood lately (polo ralph lauren is giving me all the yummy content with him at the australian open 🤭) so that's where this is coming from! enjoy!
(we're also closing in on 1k slowly but surely! thank you all so much for the everlasting support. i'll never take it for granted. ever <3)
[ saint's now playing... ] not cute anymore -> illit
[ wc / writing for ] 788 / @kstrucknet @k-records
when you enter your shared bedroom to finally prod your boyfriend away from the mirror, you have to hold back the surprise on your face when you come face to face with him.
he's dressed in an all achromatic colors, ballcap on backwards and chunky chains draped on his pants like it's a usual thing for him. he adjusts the oversized long sleeve on his body, clearing his throat once he spots you gaping from behind him. sleek headphones pile on top of his already awkwardly-placed ballcap, making his profile a surprising sight.
"hey, babe. just...trying out something new." seokmin's voice sounds a little deeper than it usually does, as if he's trying to force himself to sound more collected. you tilt your head at the sound, puzzled as to what's going in on front of you.
you nod slowly, still taking all of your changed boyfriend in as you blink in disbelief. "i could tell, seok."
"what do you think? is it...is it tough-looking? do i look tough?" seokmin turns to you, causing you to jump a little when you find sleek looking shades in place of his normally sparkling brown eyes.
"you look..." you trail off, searching for the right words as seokmin's lips frown slightly. "you look different, seokmin. in a good way."
"in a good way?" he echoes, voice still carrying that awkward deep tone to it as you nod slowly, scrunching your lips up to hold back the question plaguing your mind at the moment: what is my boyfriend wearing? better yet, what is he trying to do?
"are you ready to go now?" seokmin asks, tugging at the chain currently tied around his silver bracelet as he glances up at you. his glasses are askew on his face slightly, and he haphazardly throws up his free hand in a quick attempt to reorder them on his face.
you're silent as you watch him struggle with the chain for a few more minutes, tempted to ask him if he needs help before he lets a loud huff escape his lips, yanking his arm away from the chain and breaking it and his bracelet in one go.
"oh, um..." seokmin sighs bashfully, cheeks reddening as he rubs the back of his neck. "sorry. didn't mean to get all...tangled up there."
"what are you doing?" you question, eyebrow raised as seokmin's chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. his eyes fall to the floor in embarrassment, and he sighs before opening his mouth to speak.
"i don't want you to think i'm just..." he trails off, and you take one step closer to him, eyes searching his as you echo his words. "you're just..."
"cute! ...cute." seokmin yells, eyes widening before he thinks better of himself and withdraws his voice, nervously swallowing before he continues.
"you call me cute all the time, and...i want to become tougher for you. i want you to look at me and think of a cool, strong man, not...not a cute boy who you call baby and pat his cheek like he's a child." seokmin mumbles, and you step closer to him, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling the heat radiating off of his face as you smile.
"i do think you're a cool, strong man. i also think you're a very cute guy too, and i love calling you baby." you say, and seokmin looks away with a frown on his face before you pull his face back to yours. "i love that duality about you, seokmin. i love that you can both be cool and cute at the same time. i think it's endearing. and also the coolest thing ever."
seokmin cracks a small smile at that, and you pull him in for a kiss, letting your lips crash against his as he melts under your touch. his fists uncurl from his sides, and he lets his hands run along your waist, humming happily against you before you pull away.
you reach up for seokmin's hat and earphones, pulling them away and dropping them to the floor to reveal his soft, brown hair. you run your hand through it, bringing your hand to cup his cheek as you sigh.
"i just want the seokmin that wears the clothes he feels like. the seokmin who doesn't wear sunglasses all the time so i can see his pretty brown eyes. the seokmin whose voice isn't awkwardly deep." you grin up at your boyfriend, and he flushes, rolling his eyes at the last part of your sentence. "at least i tried to sound convincing."
"that you did...not." you smile sweetly, and seokmin shrugs, pulling you in for another kiss before whispering, "....god, you're right."
nerd!svt driving their new plaything into overstimulation? like they cant help it, it’s their first time with the opportunity ⸝⸝ ᷇࿀ ᷆⸝⸝ ♡
Warnings: mdni, 18+, overstimulation, face riding, mention of squirting, otaku! Seungcheolie, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f rec.), Jun is pussy drunk, tutor! Jeonghan, use of toys, virgin! Wonwoo, dry humping hoshi, woozi does it on purpose, mingyu is too big, dokyeom is innocent, Minghao is obsessed, Vernon is down bad, Dino is down bad, Seungkwan is down bad, volleyball coach assistant! seungkwan, little league coach! dokyeom, garage band guiatrist! vernon, college nerd! dino, public s-x w/ joshua! ETC
A/N: Shout out to @woncheolisms who hyped me up in discord when I forced her to read this entire thing before it was edited or grammarly fixed!
[smut under the divider - proceed w/ caution]
-
Seungcheol - Seungcheol didn't mean to. When your hips bucked, causing you to drag your pretty pussy over his mouth erratically, he didn't know you were trying to run away from his sinful tongue.
Your cries are wet, sniffling, and high-pitched as you tug on his hair. But Seungcheol couldn’t bear the thought of removing his mouth from your drooling cunt. His tongue laves over your puffy folds, slurping every drop of your sweet slick seeping from your fluttering hole. His nose presses into your sensitive clit with each shake of his head, pulling you over the edge for the third time tonight.
And your body shakes as your vision whitens. Your hand tugs on his hair, trapped, sitting on his face as his arms curl around your thighs to keep you in place. Your other hand smacks into the anime poster above his wall, its of a barely clad Mitsuri Kanroji, and Seungcheol is curling his tongue inside to feel how your gummy walls throb around his wet muscle as you cum.
When he doesn’t stop, your eyes roll back, your whimpers wrecked as you try to tug on his hair, your tongue too heavy to say anything other than his name. You’re the first person to let him do this, fuck, you’re the first girl to be in his room alone. And if he wasn’t going to live out all his lewd fantasies he’s read in his hentai books under his bed, then you were going to be in for a rude awakening.
Now, his pouty lips sucks your clit into his mouth like a man starved. He wonders, do you think he could make you squirt?
Jeonghan - Jeonghan overstimulates you on purpose.
When he promised you a night you wouldn’t forget, you were intrigued by the nerd who was supposed to be tutoring you through history.
What you don’t expect is to be tied to his bed. He’s got movie posters of Jurassic Park and Dunkirk on his wall, with stacks of books on his shelves, ranging from King Henry the 8th to the Romanov sisters and the Roman Empire. But that’s not what you can focus on.
No, the electric buzz that resonates through the air takes all of your attention to the long-haired blonde. He’s kneeling between your thighs, his fingers playing with the hot pink dildo like it was a new concept to him. And maybe that was because it was. He’s only seen toys like this from late-night searches on his laptop when he was alone with a box of tissues and lotion.
But now, he’s got you on your back, legs spread, and your pretty pussy on display just for him. He hopes the twitch of his cock in his sweats isn’t as noticeable as the warmth at the tops of his ears, but he’s just so excited.
His idea was that if you could answer each question for your upcoming test for the end of semester 1 of your World History class, he’d allow you to cum. But now, he can’t take his eyes off your pretty pussy as you slurp the pink dildo farther inside your wet heat. The nub at the base of the toy vibrates along your puffy clit deliciously, and Jeonghan’s mouth waters as you cry out for the nth time. The orgasm is pulled from you as he tilts the toy up while he presses down on your stomach.
Yeah, he throws his idea right out the window - his new plan? To make you forget everything other than his name.
Joshua - When Joshua gets you overstimulated, he's got his head between your thighs and your fingers pulling his hair like it would somehow separate his mouth from your pretty cunt.
His tongue flicks over your clit just as his lips suck the bundle of nerves like you're his new favorite candy. And maybe it's because you are.
Joshua is still dressed in his sweater and tie, his fingers clutching your hips as you squirm under his relentless tongue for mercy. But his mouth just salivates like a man starved, your syrupy sweet slick pooling on his tongue like honey. He just won't let you go. I mean, how could you have known the sweetest gentleman who always shared snacks with you during library study sessions would have a wicked mouth and a sweet tooth for you?
He's got you tucked in between the dusty shelves in the back, your skirt flipped up to your stomach, with his face pressing even deeper towards your drooling cunt like it'll have all the answers to his problems. And it takes seconds for him to get you falling apart, your fingers tugging his hair to pull him away while you shake, doing your best not to be too loud - you're still in the library afterall.
But fuck, Joshua makes it difficult when he continues to lavish your pretty pussy with broad licks of his tongue :( easily getting you overstimulated and crying his name like it's salvation.
Jun - It happens slowly. Jun didn’t have much experience being with someone; his head was stuck in piles of books or preoccupied with using his hands to fidget with putting together scraps of metal and wiring to create something new. He didn’t think he’d get you in his bed, underneath him. You were so pretty, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, taking in each sweet noise he pulled out of you as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
It doesn’t take him long to find your sweet spots. The ones that have you arching your back for him, your jaw slacking open as your thighs shake in pleasure. And he has each gasp and whimper seared into the back of his head as you cum for the first time around his long fingers, the curl of his digits leaving stars to burst behind your eyelids as he watches with fascination.
That’s when you should have known you were in trouble. Because now, after two orgasms back to back, he’s splitting you in half with his cock. His jaw clenches as his hips roll forward nice n’ slow. Your cunt throbs its own heartbeat each time he sinks balls deep, and you’re at the brink of insanity as he leans back on his knees. He watches your walls flutter around his shaft each time his thumb flicks over your clit, and the slow build-up takes you by surprise as you suddenly cum with a whine.
You gush, coating his cock with a wet sheen, and he is in awe. He fucks you through your high, helping you through each ebb and flow of your orgasm until you gasp for air. And then he keeps going, his thumb pressing firmly into the sensitive bundle of nerves as you shake your head, “s’too much- I-I can’t!”
Jun’s voice is soft but rough, his tongue licking his bottom lip wet as he pushes forward again, filling you full once more. “Yes, yes, you can.” You don’t see the way his eyes swirl a little unhinged as he spreads your legs apart more. “Let’s see how wet you can get, Pretty.”
Soonyoung - Soonyoung doesn’t mean to overstimulate you. But he also doesn’t mean to overstimulate himself either. You just feel too good, he can’t stop.
His fingers dig into the soft fat of your thighs, keeping you pinned in place as his mouth waters in awe. His eyes are zeroed in on your drooling cunt, the way the fat tip of his cock drags through your puffy, glittering folds.
His dick is soaked in your sweet slick, the thick head of his cock bumping into your sensitive clit as he grinds against your pretty pussy like a desperate man. Which he is. Oh, so desperate for you. And when you told him he could do whatever he wanted, he just couldn’t put it in? :( He thought he might die. But he’d do whatever you want; he’s just so happy to be between your thighs.
Sweat rolls down the sides of his forehead as he concentrates, his hips pushing forward and dragging back nice n’ slow, building your high up again only to force you to shatter underneath him for the nth time. He can feel your folds throb around his length, your fluttering hole winking around nothing as you cum again, and he doesn’t stop. The tip of his cock bumps over your clit again and again until you’re a mess, your head falling back as your thighs twitch under his hands.
“C’mon,” his jaw clenches as his cock throbs angrily for more. “Just the tip, please.” His cheeks are flushed, and his eyes never leave his cock sliding slipperily through your wet cunt, drool already slipping from the corner of his mouth. “Just the tip, I promise.”
Wonwoo - Wonwoo was a man of facts. He didn’t do anything without much research. He needed to know the facts, to have all the information before he decided his next move, and with you, it didn’t change.
Wonwoo’s glasses fog up as his lips part. His eyes widen as he leans closer between your plush thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he watches your glittering folds get wetter, small puffs of his breath panting over your pretty pussy in awe.
He’s on his knees, cock straining against his slacks as his cheeks burn red. He couldn’t believe you were letting him do this. I mean, after finding out he was a virgin - shocker - he didn’t think you’d bring him back to your place, let alone sit on the edge of your bed so you could show him what he was missing out on.
And when you guide him even closer, his tongue lapping a long stripe up your slicked folds, the man of facts, of order, and information loses his last thread of restraint. He surprises you when he hooks your legs over his shoulders, his glasses going askew as he buries his face deeper into your addictive cunt. His groan is deep but muffled between your thick thighs, and you’re scrambling to hold onto your bedsheets for dear life.
Your first orgasm, although sloppy, has your thighs crushing his head as the obscene squelches of your pussy resonate throughout your bedroom. But by the third orgasm, you’re begging for mercy. The heel of your foot digs into his broad shoulder,s and your hand tugs on his hair, but he’s too far gone to listen. His eyes are closed, groaning lowly as he spreads your puffy folds apart so his tongue can reach deeper.
Eventually, it’ll be too much, and he’ll let you have mercy. But then he’ll force you into a nasty mating press, asking if he can feel your cunt throb around his cock until your pretty pussy molds to his length like he knows you’re meant to.
Jihoon - All the late nights watching hentai, of tissues at his bedside table, sitting next to his lotion as he watched his laptop screen, prepared him for this.
And fuck, you don’t disappoint.
You’re so pretty with your thighs twitching, your legs spread open to have him lying between them. He can’t believe you’re in his dorm room. He can’t believe you’re arching your back on his Solo Leveling bedsheets. That he has pulled orgasm after orgasm from you with just his fingers, but here he is. One hand pushing down on your stomach as his other hand fills your pretty pussy with three fingers while his thumb swirls your clit with the expertise of a nerd who only watched this kind of stuff during his free time.
He’s watched so many pervy videos of the pretty anime girls who moaned and gasped when the guy did this to them, and Jihoon might just cum untouched with the way you cry out better than any anime girl he’s watched. He curls his fingers, searching for the one spot that’ll get you squealing, and is ultimately surprised when you yelp before cumming for the nth time when he finds it. Your hands try to shove him away, your vision whitening as you orgasm, but he’s having none of it.
Jihoon keeps the pace, applying the pressure while hooking his fingers, and your jaw slacks open in a silent scream as heat flashes through your entire body.
Jihoon absolutely meant to overstimulate you. His satisfied smirk says it all while your pussy gushes, squirting all over his hand messily as he fucks you through it.
He’s going to need you to do that again. And again, and again. His new obsession unlocked as your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure.
Minghao - It’s because Minghao is pussy drunk that he can’t stop. It’s not his fault that he’s never been inside a woman before. Heat crawls up his neck and ears, flushing on his cheeks as he overstimulates your clit with his lithe fingers. He sniffles, an apology almost crossing his lips, but then you’re gasping, your gummy walls squeezing his cock for dear life as he pulls another orgasm from you.
And he’s in awe. Stars swimming in his eyes as you cry out, your legs wrapping around his hips, conflicted to pull him closer or push him away because he’s relentless. His middle finger swirls the sensitive nub, his jaw dropping as your walls constrict around his shaft in time with the flicks of his fingers.
No, he can’t stop now.
So, he doesn’t. He doesn’t even move his hips, letting you buck your hips on your own as he taps sloppy hearts into your pretty pussy, absolutely in love.
Mingyu - Mingyu doesn't mean to overstimulate you; it's not his fault that he had to pull multiple orgasms from you just so he can prepare you to take his cock. He's a big man, and he has to have you drooling into his pillow, clutching his GumGum fruit plushy as he splits you in half with his thick cock.
He's got you on your hands and knees, your back arched beautifully as he drags you back to meet his slow thrust. He unknowingly makes you feel every inch that disappears into your wet cunt, the ridges and dips of his shaft dragging along your gummy walls until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head with a long moan.
By the time Mingyu is balls deep, you've orgasmed twice now, and that's not including when he made you cum on his tongue. Your legs tremble, your teeth sink into the pillow, and your walls throb around his cock in time with your racing heart that pounds in your ears. It's too much, you feel delirious staring at the Lord of the Rings action figures on his bookshelf as he pulls almost all the way out before knocking the breath from you when he pushes forward.
The headboard of his bed smacks into the wall while you cry out, your eyes crossing in pleasure as the tip of his cock smooches your cervix in greeting over and over again.
Seokmin - When Dokyeom, the coach of your little brother's little league baseball team, off-handedly mentions never knowing what the jokes about bases are when it came to dating... You'd like to show him, rather than tell him.
What you expect is a blushing, awkward, but cute Seokmin to not know what to do with you, and for you to take the reins the whole time.
What you don't expect is that there is a reason he's coaching little league on his summers away from college. Because he's got you in the backseat of his car, your leg draped over the passenger seat while his fingers curl deep inside your soaking cunt. The space is small back here, but Dokyeom makes full use of it. He's wearing his baseball cap backwards, the veins on his forearms on full display as he pumps his long fingers in n' out like you haven't already orgasm twice now.
Your fingers try to wrap around his wrist that's in between your thighs, but his free hand pins it above your head. He holds on to it as he watches your pretty pussy slurp his fingers greedily. His eyes swirl with a hunger that showed up after your first orgasm, your cries of his name music to his ears, and he just needs to see you fall apart one more time. Just one more time, you can do that, right?
Seungkwan - When you brought Seungkwan home to "study," you had a feeling you would end up like this. Straddling his lap, disheveling his hair with your fingers, with his cock inside you.
You had your eye on innocent Seungkwan for a while now. Loving how eager he was as your volleyball coach's assistant. He was so passionate, happily refilling water bottles, grabbing extra volleyballs, and helping you stretch after practice until his face was red as a tomato.
He was absolutely adorable, and you couldn't resist.
What you don't expect is that the stuttering nerd would fill you so deliciously, his fingers digging into your hips, controlling the pace as you rocked in his lap nice n' slowly. And like on the court, he's got endless praise fumbling from his mouth, his eyes dazed and filled with stars.
You've orgasm once and then twice back to back, leaving you sopping wet and sensitive, and Seungkwan's grip on your waist is still firm as ever. Your wet cries echo as he murmurs for you to cum again and again, driving you to the brink of insanity.
Vernon - When your younger brother brings a new guitarist into his little "garage band," your eyes have never rolled harder. He claims they are getting really good, practically practicing every day in your garage, making what you think is just loud noise at this point. But that's just your role as older sister, to think everything your younger brother does is nerdy and lame - you're not supposed to find the guitarist attractive.
Vernon is a year older than your brother, a college senior majoring in music. He's got chipped nail polish and an oversized fur coat to go with his ripped jeans. And for their "heavy rock" persona, you've never met anyone who blushed as hard as Vernon did when you remind your brother they have 15 minutes to wrap it up because you have work tomorrow. You've been out of college for two years now, and even though you act like it's a bother for your brother to use your home as band practice, you love him and let him do what he wants.
That's why it's really bad to have Vernon bending you over the washer in your laundry room. He's your brother's friend, a nerd like the rest of them. He shouldn't be between your legs, filling you balls deep over and over again when everyone has already left. It shouldn't feel this good as your washer shakes underneath you, your cries drowned out by the laundry being washed.
Vernon shouldn't be able to get you to cum so easily, your palms smacking the machine as he fucks you through it, not stopping until your jaw slacks open with a scream.
Dino - Dino doesn’t know how he ended up in a closet with you at this frat party. He wasn’t even invited. He really was just dropping off homework to some jock who had deep pockets - Dino needed money, okay? A broke college kid gets desperate, and Dino is only good at a few things, and history is one of them!
But what should have been an easy five-minute exchange turned into you grabbing him as your “seven minutes in heaven” when the bottle landed on your ex.
Dino didn’t know what to do with his hands when he was stuck in a closet with you, but he knew how to kiss. And he kissed you for the past seven minutes and all the way to the upstairs bathroom with the way your fingers curled into the front of his shirt after the initial “seven minutes” were over.
And then he kissed down your body while you sat on top of the bathroom counter. Your hands guiding him right between your thighs, where he kissed your pretty pussy until your squeals could probably be heard over the loud music playing on the other side of the door.
He had one of your legs hooked over his shoulder as his other hand held you in place. His tongue lapped at your glittering folds like it was the whole reason he had shown up to this party, to make your thighs shake around his head as you cried out for the nth time in less than 30 minutes.
Safe to say you were the newest thing he was good at doing.
-
A/N: lmao this took a life of its own... I just wrote with no idea what I wanted to do, and here we are- enjoy <3
As always, comments or talking in the reblogs are amazing!
you call your boyfriend by his stage name as a prank. he does not like this.
[ warnings \ tropes ] idol au, fluff, est. relationship, boyfriend seungcheol, grumpy cheol, reader pranks him by calling him s.coups/coups, lots of kissing, pouting (mainly from coups), he's a whiner guys </3
[ saint's voice note ! ] still not happy with my icon selection but this fic is more important to you guys than it is to me so...we ball! we're also 59 followers away from 1k?? so there's that 😭😭 ANYWAYS enjoy! i love you and thank you for reading <3
[ saint's now playing... ] can't feel my face -> the weeknd
[ wc / writing for ] 1,022 / @kstrucknet @k-records
it all started when you thought to yourself how good of an idea it would be to prank your boyfriend after he got home from work.
"welcome home, coups." you greet seungcheol at the door, pecking his cheek as you take his things from his arms. he looks tired, but offers a cute smile to you anyways, pulling you in for a greedy kiss as he huffs afterwards.
seungcheol doesn't even seem to notice you're calling him by his stage name, and so you just smile, prancing off into the living room as he trudges behind you.
he finds a seat in the kitchen, sleepily climbing on top of a stool as he lets his head hit the counter. "rough day?" you question him, and he nods, groaning as he runs his hands over his tired face.
"very rough. choreographing for a solo i had no intention of dancing to is the worst thing ever." seungcheol whines, and you chuckle, throwing your head back as you glance at him to gage his reaction.
"you're just being dramatic, s.coups. lighten up! you always deliver when the fans want it," you turn your back to him to prepare the stove for dinner, but you can feel his dark brown gaze hot on your back. oh, you're definitely paying attention now, you say to yourself.
sure enough, when you turn around to put the cutting board down on the countertop, seungcheol's glaring at you like you've said a curse word in front of a bunch of kindergarteners.
"what?" you question innocently, even going as far to cock your head to the side in faux confusion. seungcheol's eyebrows scrunch slightly before he shakes his head, running a hand through his tousled hair as he shrugs.
"thought i heard you say something." he mumbles, annoyingly digging his phone from his pocket as the buzz of a phone call sounds off.
"not now, please," he says aloud, powering off the device before smacking it against the counter face-down. his head is on the marble again, cheek smudged against the surface as he glances up at you with those puppy dog eyes.
"what are you making, baby? already smells so good," seungcheol groans like a little baby, making you giggle as you throw the chopped vegetables into a bowl.
"some recipe i found on the internet." you reply, turning your back to him to put the vegetables in the pan and fry them in butter. "hey, coups, will you hand me the shredded cheese out of the fridge?"
the chair pauses mid-scrape just seconds after your question is posed, and seungcheol's burning holes through your head with his intent gaze. you turn around to meet him, feigning confusion once again as you speak. "what's wrong?"
"you keep calling me that." seungcheol says, and you laugh, shaking your head at him as if you're clueless. "calling you what? what are you talking about?"
"you've called me 'coups' twice now. you never do that." seungcheol says, dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his plump lips turn up in a pout.
"you're being silly. i haven't called you that at all! are you hearing things?" you combat his claims just as quickly as he brings t]hem up, and he just glances at you, silently fulfilling your request as he plops the bag of cheese next to the stove.
"thanks, s.coups." you peck his cheek, and he freezes in place, eyes widening just a fraction as he realizes what you've said.
"see! you just called me s.coups!" seungcheol points to himself, and you stare blankly at him, silent as he stares at you accusingly. he's towering over you now, not only tired and grumpy from his tiring work day, but now your constant 'slip-ups'.
"why are you calling me that? you know that's my stage name. when i'm off the clock, you know i want you to call me cheol. seungcheol, even. i just..." seungcheol trails off, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as he mumbles.
"i want you to call me by my real name. when i'm home, i'm yours. not carats, or anyone else's. just—just yours."
that makes your heart soften instantly, and you set your spatula down, taking seungcheol in for an embrace as you smile. "okay. i'm sorry for pranking you."
"it's okay, baby, i—" seungcheol pauses mid-sentence when he registers your words, and you can't help but laugh aloud at his reaction. "what? prank?"
"yeah! i thought i would prank you once you got home from work, and so i decided to call you by your stage name until you realized it." you explain, and seungcheol rolls his eyes, a small smile escaping nevertheless as he scrunches his face up at you.
"you little devil," he lowly teases, and you shrug pridefully, glancing over at him as you nod. "what can i say? you're all cute when you start confessing to me."
"god, ignore...ignore what i said earlier. if i knew you were pranking me, i would've—" seungcheol starts, and you stop him, stuffing hot vegetables into his mouth as he chews hurriedly.
"save it, cheol." you tease, gloating in the way his cheeks heat up so easily at the simple nickname. "we both know how soft you get when i call you by your full name."
"i hate you." seungcheol grumbles with a smile on his face as he kisses your neck, and you smile proudly, stirring the vegetables as his arms find their way around your torso, resting his head on your shoulder as you nod. "i love you too, seungcheol."
"okay, stop calling me that." seungcheol says, and you oblige for a second, more than ready to carry on the teasing. "right, s.coups. sorry."
"...never mind." the words are so quiet you can barely hear them, but you know seungcheol's blushing now, lips curving into a small smirk on your skin as he huffs a sigh. "i like seungcheol ten times better."
"me too." you nod, ruffling seungcheol's hair with your free hand as he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck even more.
🔮 preview. “The other day, you said I grew some balls and an ego to match,” Wonwoo muses, moving even closer so you can feel his breath against your face. “At least I’m ballsy enough to admit I want you back. Are you too proud to admit you feel the same way?” A grin spreads across his lips as he looks down at you. “Or do you just lack balls?”
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, birth control/STI talk (due diligence), pussy eating, body worship, breast worship, foreplay, dirty talk, praise, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, slightly more soft/dominant Wonwoo, sexual marking, jealously, precariously exhibitionistic longings at an open house, size kink, muscled!Wonwoo, semi imobilization during sex by pinning y/n’s hands, masturbation, dry humping, grinding, sex toy, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.7k
🍭 aus. Non idol au, real estate!au, exes to lovers, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. So I’ve always loved reality shows that focus on real estate, and the new season of Owning Manhattan kind of captivated me. I don’t know much about the business, so as is the case with most fanfics, this is probably not an entirely accurate representation of how this job is done. But I thought it would be a really fun environment to test out an ex’s to lovers style fic, which isn’t something I’ve written much of before :) Also, I’m Canadian and have never been to New York so… let’s see how this goes haha
One:
Broker’s Open events can be hectic. It’s a flurry of agents, questions, and people testing your knowledge of the home you’re doing your best to sell. You have to be on your A-Game, but after being in the industry for a few years, you don’t crack easily under pressure.
Everything is going well, and then, while looking around at the crowd of people all chatting in the open plan kitchen, your eyes land on a familiar set of shoulders. Perhaps it’s not the shoulders per se, but the way the man holds himself that you recougnize. His back is to you, but goosebumps erupt on your skin, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, and when the man turns, you catch his side profile.
The world seems to stop.
You had dated fellow business major Wonwoo throughout university, but upon graduation, you’d followed your passion to the Big Apple, New York, intent on pursuing your dreams of selling real estate. He, in contrast, had stayed on the West Coast. It hadn’t been the best breakup, but you had both been young, and you weren’t going to let a man get in the way of your life goals.
Now here he is, at your Broker’s Open, looking even more handsome than the last time you saw him.
You’d heard he had come to town, seen his name pop up in listings connected to a new and growing real estate agency, and for a year, you’ve been waiting for an interaction like this. But now that you’re finally in the same room as your ex, you can hardly breathe.
Wonwoo’s eyes meet yours, and he flashes a grin, heading toward you through the crowd of agents.
“Long time no see,” your ex says, voice deeper than you remember.
He’s taller than he used to be too, and his shoulders have widened. His clothing has had a major upgrade, and the black duster he’s wearing draped over his pinstripe suit clad shoulders only accentuates how broad he’s become. Everything is well fitted, tailored even, and clearly expensive.
“Yes,” you force yourself to look away, too distracted by the sight of him to think coherently. “I see you finally made it to the big city.”
“And yet, no calls, no texts,” Wonwoo lets out a chuckle. “I know it’s been over five years, but it feels like we’re strangers now.”
“Well, I’m married to my work,” you state, looking at him again and appreciating the way his glasses complement his angular cheekbones, making him look even more regal and handsome.
“So no time for social niceties,” Wonwoo grins.
God, he’s so sexy.
“Not unless you’re a buyer, a seller, a representative, or a prospective client.”
“I guess I’m in luck then, I represent a prospective buyer,” Wonwoo muses. “I ran over the comps, sent a video of this place to my client, and I think we might be able to make a deal here.”
“You have a buyer?” you ask in shock.
Wonwoo’s agency is still very young compared to the old money businesses that run New York. Your company, in contrast, is the number one selling agency in the whole city. The idea that Wonwoo could bring in a buyer at your calibre is unexpected, to say the least.
“I have a buyer,” Wonwoo confirms. Someone brushes by your back, and Wonwoo gently reaches out, his long fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull you closer and away from the people shuffling around behind you.
“Then you need to put in an offer,” you tell him, swallowing the lump in your throat as your heart races in your chest.
Wonwoo leans even closer so you can hear him over the loud chatter of the crowd. “How about we grab some drinks when you finish up here, and run some numbers?” your ex asks smoothly.
“Strictly business?” you retort.
“And pleasure. I don’t see why we can’t mix the two, given our history.”
Heat radiates through you, and it feels like there’s pressure on your chest. This man might look like your ex, but he’s changed in many ways since you last saw him. Aside from the physical growth, his personality has clearly shifted too. He’s a lot more flirty, and there’s an egotistical note in the way he holds himself now.
This is no longer the nerdy gamer you dated in university, the nerdy gamer you broke up with in order to chase your dreams of money, fame, and comfort.
“We can grab drinks after this,” you confirm. “But your buyer better have a good number.”
“I wouldn’t insult you with any low balling, I know your reputation in this city.” Wonwoo releases your wrist. “I still have your number, I’ll text you the spot. Let’s say nine o’clock? You should be done by then.”
“That works,” you confirm.
“It was good to see you.” His hand finds your shoulder, and he gently brushes a piece of your hair away from your collarbone, making your skin tingle from the brief contact. With a final nod, your ex turns and wades into the crowd, leaving you breathless, confused, and too horny to admit.
Two:
You find Wonwoo at a booth in the back corner of a swanky bar in Mid-Town. He’s nursing an Old Fashioned cocktail, and when you sit down, you notice he’d ordered you a drink too.
“What’s this?” you ask.
“Cocktail; fruity, and sweet, just how you like it,” Wonwoo grins teasingly. “Unless your tastes have changed?”
“We’re still talking about drinks here, right?” you question, feeling slightly uncomfortable already.
Your ex’s smile widens. “What else would we be talking about?”
Letting out a deep sigh, you push the drink to the side. “We should be talking business.”
“I’ve got two proposals for you,” Wonwoo says, leaning back against the booth and straightening his shoulders.
“Two?” You cock a brow, curiousity getting the better of you.
“I think you should join SVT Co.”
A laugh escapes you before you can even control yourself. “And why would I do that?”
Wonwoo shrugs. “I think you’d be surprised by the new developments we’ve secured the rights to sell.”
“I’m at the top real estate company in New York, what do you think your CEO could offer me that I don’t already have?”
“The opportunity to grow with us, and outgrow the current restrictive company you’re currently working with. You know, be a big fish in a little pond, that sort of thing.”
You process his words, but find yourself shaking your head anyways. “Proposal two. Talk to me about your buyer.”
“He’s a family man from California, looking for a two bed, two bath in middle Manhattan. Your listing fit the bill, I gave him a tour on Facetime, talked comps and numbers. I told him you’re an amazing agent with many connections, and you’d likely already receive a bid or two at your open house, so I figured we should jump on this. We agreed on a number, and I’m ready to make the offer.”
“Tell me.”
“Asking is five million, considering the high floor, the views, and square footage price relative to the building, he and I came in at four point three, all cash, no contingencies, ready to close in ten days.”
“That’s seven hundred thousand less than asking,” you retort, narrowing your eyes. “Is that the highest he will go?”
“How about you call your guy and we’ll play some ball.”
“And here I thought you said you wouldn’t low ball me,” you tisk, pulling out your phone.
“All cash, no contingencies, ten day close, it sweetens the deal for the number. You want to get this done, don’t you? I know your seller does. The apartment already had a different listing agent for a six month contract and they couldn’t get a deal in, won’t it feel nice for everyone if you get this done on the day of your Broker’s Open?”
You glance at Wonwoo, shocked at how far he’s come since university. For him to talk big business with you like this… to bring you a client and help you both make commission… it’s a nice change, but an unexpected one.
You call the seller you’re representing, holding up a finger to Wonwoo, and relay the information. There’s a small back and forth, you mention a few offers you got at the Broker’s Open which were more around the four million range, and then you put yourself on mute, looking at your ex. “Four point five and we have a deal.”
“Let’s make this happen,” Wonwoo grins, pulling out his own phone to call the buyer.
You listen to the way he discusses things with his client, and you have to admit, Wonwoo has a way with words. He thanks his buyer and hangs up. “Four point five, all cash, no contingencies, ten day close. We have a deal.”
Wonwoo holds out a hand and you shake it, unable to contain the joy you’re feeling at getting this apartment sold so quickly, and the tingles you get from touching him only add to the sensation. “I’ll write up a contract and send it to you.”
Your ex is slow to release your hand, and he lets out a sigh. “I missed you.”
“What?”
“I missed you,” Wonwoo says again. “We broke up because you moved to New York, and now I’m here too. Why don’t we give this a try again?”
“Because things have changed!” you stammer.
“Yeah?” Wonwoo grins and sips his Old Fashioned. “Like what?”
“Well, I mean, for starters, you’re in an Armani suit.”
“You don’t like the suit?” His smile broadens.
“I love the suit, love the suit. But the Wonwoo that I used to know would never wear such high brand luxury. You’ve also clearly grown the balls and ego to match a man who wears Armani.”
Now your ex lets out a laugh, and you hate how beautiful he is.
He opens his mouth to say something, and that’s when you hear someone call Wonwoo’s name.
You turn to find another well dressed man approaching from the bar seating area.
“I thought that was you!” The handsome man smiles.
“Dokyeom, this is y/n, y/n this is Dokyeom,” Wonwoo introduces you, letting out a sigh and reaching for his drink again. It’s clear to you he’s not very satisfied with being interrupted, but his friend seems to not notice, or perhaps ignore your ex’s annoyance.
“y/n as in real estate princess y/n?” Dokyeom gasps. “As in, fastest junior to senior agent in her company’s history?”
“That would be me,” you laugh awkwardly.
“Excuse me,” Wonwoo sighs, standing from the booth and allowing Dokyeom to take his spot.
“I’m guessing you work with Wonwoo at SVT co?” you ask, turning your attention to the bright, bubbly man.
“Beautiful and smart, a deadly combination,” Dokyeom beams. “Yes, I’ve been working with him for about a year now. I didn’t mean to interrupt, were you two doing business?”
“We just made a deal on a two bed two bath,” you nod.
“Congratulations!” Dokyeom is clearly an insanely happy and positive person, and it relaxes you a bit as you begin to talk to him.
But conversation quickly moves in the same direction that your talk with Wonwoo had.
“You should really meet Choi Seungcheol, our CEO,” Dokyeom explains. “I think you would like him a lot.”
“I’m not sure I’m in the market to be poached,” you tease, sipping your drink.
Dokyeom lets out a laugh. “Okay, you got me.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “But… I have an open house this weekend you could come to, for business purposes.” He sends you a wink and it makes you chuckle.
You open your mouth to respond but at that moment, Wonwoo returns. “I have to go,” he says curtly. “An agent just got back to me about a twilight viewing, and tonight has pretty clear skies, so now is the time.”
“I understand,” you nod.
Wonwoo pauses for a few seconds, and you’re not sure if he expects you to stand and give him a hug, or if he’s unsure about leaving you with his friend, regardless, he hesitates, and the tension is thick.
“I guess I’ll see you around,” Wonwoo says finally.
“I’m sure you will, and I’ll get the contract to you by midnight.”
Your ex nods, and then, without another word, he leaves.
When he’s out of earshot, Dokyeom lets out a whistle. “So he really wasn’t lying that you two have history.”
“He told you about that?” you ask in shock.
“Not in detail, Wonwoo’s not the talkative type, but he mentioned you know each other, and I guess I put two and two together.”
“It was a long time ago,” you state, grabbing your purse and finishing your drink. “I have to go, but it was nice to meet you.”
“Here.” Dokyeom pulls out a card, writing a few details on the back of it. “This is my information, and I wrote the details for the open house I’m throwing, I hope you can make it.”
“We’ll see.”
Three:
You’re not here to be poached… you’re just at Dokyeom’s open house to view it for clients. Definitely.
And you didn’t dress up extremely well to dazzle Wonwoo or anything, that would be ludicrous. No, you’re dressed nice because this is your job. A hundred and ten percent.
You’re in the kitchen when Dokyeom comes scurrying over, a huge grin on his face. “You came!”
“I’ve got a buyer looking for something like this,” you tell him, trying to remain nonchalant.
“I’ll give you a tour.”
As he begins his tour, he stops at certain sections of the penthouse to point people out to you.
There’s Seungcheol, the extremely handsome yet stern looking CEO with his assistant, Dino, glued to his side. Jeonghan is a senior agent in a deep discussion with two juniors, Seungkwan and Soonyoung, who seem to be at each other’s throats while the eldest watches with a grin. Jun and Minghao are speaking quickly in Chinese to a potential foreign buyer on FaceTime. Woozi and Mingyu are going over comps. Joshua and Vernon are on calls with LA connections.
It’s a lot of names, and too many handsome faces to count, but you can definitely say with certainty, SVT Co is a hotdog fest. A very, very sexy hotdog fest.
You’re more interested in the men than the penthouse you’re here to view, which is something you realize abruptly as the tour comes to a close.
“You should talk to everyone when you get a chance,” Dokyeom smiles. “They will all love you.”
You let out an awkward laugh. “Oh? And why is that?”
“Because you’re gorgeous, and a money maker. We all know your history, the new developments you’ve sold, the commercial spaces, the rentals. Name the niche and you’ve sold it.” Dokyeom’s grin widens. “At the end of the day, it all comes down to the same thing; money, honey. And you make money.”
Your gaze shifts to the door to the penthouse, where Wonwoo has just arrived, and Dokyeom must sense the shift in your expression, because he follows your gaze.
“I guess working with an ex might be the only downside,” he confesses.
“It’s been years,” you say pointedly.
Wonwoo hasn’t only grabbed your attention, you notice the gorgeous man Dokyeom had pointed out as ‘Mingyu’ is approaching your ex.
They chat briefly, and then both of them look over to you. You almost fold under their dual gazes, your core throbbing uncomfortably at the attention.
“Here we go,” you sigh, body tensing with anticipation as both handsome men approach.
“You must be y/n,” Mingyu smiles, holding out a hand. “I’m Kim Mingyu.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” you grin, enjoying the way his palm dwarfs your own.
“I see Dokyeom’s been showing you around, how do you like the place?” Mingyu asks, and you realize he’s just as easy going and prone to light conversation as Dokyeom is.
“I like it a lot, as far as new development penthouses go, I’ve seen better, but based on the price range it’s not bad.”
“Wow, someone is a hard sell,” Mingyu jokes. “Do you and your boyfriend live in something like this?”
You can’t help the laugh that billows out of you. Mingyu had attempted to be nonchalant, but you can see right through him, and it’s clear from the way Dokyeom snickers and Wonwoo coughs awkwardly that you’re not the only one who sees Mingyu’s info fishing for what it is.
“I’m single,” you confirm.
“Really?” Mingyu’s eyes widen. “Sorry, it’s just, you’re a powerhouse in the industry and you’re absolutely gorgeous. I would have thought you’d deal with a lot of rich, powerful clients trying to use having you as an agent to get you out for a drink.”
“I’m sure we’ve all had to fight off those kinds of buyers,” you tease, knowing that with Mingyu’s face, he’s no doubt something like catnip to divorced milf’s looking for a pleasurable way to spend their settlements.
Mingyu opens his mouth to say something but Wonwoo lightly grabs your forearm. “Can I talk to you? Privately?”
The atmosphere immediately shifts, and once again, tension floods between you and your ex.
“Of course.” You gently pull yourself out of Wonwoo’s grasp.
“Follow me,” he instructs.
Wonwoo leads you up the stairs to the second level, taking you to the guest bedroom and into the ensuite, which you think is a little extreme, but he had wanted privacy so you guess him locking the door behind you isn’t fully out of bounds.
“Are you-” you begin to ask, but suddenly Wonwoo pushes you up against the wall, boxing you in with his hands on either side of your head, “Jealous?” the word slips out breathlessly.
Wonwoo scoffs, shaking his head. Then he releases a deep sigh. “When Dokyeom invited you to this, I didn’t think you’d take it as an opportunity to hit on my coworkers.”
“Are you sure I was the one doing the flirting?” you counter. “Mingyu came onto me.”
“And you lapped up the attention.”
“I hate to remind you of this, but I’m single. We aren’t together anymore Wonwoo, so I can do what I want.”
He stares at you, and your skin prickles with the realization of how close he is to you. God, he’s so beautiful, and your heart melts while you look at him.
Wonwoo was never a jealous man, but when you were dating, you never gave him a reason to be.
“So you want to fuck Mingyu then?” he asks.
With the ego has come vulgarity, and you scoff loudly at his words. “No, I don’t want to fuck Mingyu.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“I think you need new glasses.”
The side of his mouth quirks up in a half smirk as he lets out a small chuckle. “Are you having fun toying with me, honey?”
“If I was toying with you, you’d know it,” you retort, confidence surging through you. “For example, I’d do this.” You hook your fingers in his belt, pulling him even closer.
Wonwoo releases a deep groan, his lips just inches from your own.
You stare at each other, fighting your pride over which one of you will finally close the distance between your mouths-
A knock on the door startles you, and Wonwoo pulls away. “We’ll have to finish this another time,” he says curtly. “This is an open house, and we’re both professionals.”
“Yes,” you swallow thickly, fixing your dress and willing your thundering heart to relax. “We are.”
Four:
After your run in with Wonwoo, Seungcheol had caught you on your way out of the open house. He’d asked if you would have time to meet him for a drink, so here you are, getting dolled up to go meet the CEO of SVT co for what you can only imagine will be a business proposal.
He’s asked you to meet at a new development, one of the largest new buildings going up in New York. As far as you know, it’s almost complete, and there has been much discussion within agency circles about who convinced the developer to take on the project.
When you arrive and find Seungcheol waiting for you outside the building, you’re pretty sure you know who landed the deal.
“How are you?” Seungcheol asks, pulling you in for a hug.
God, he’s beefy and smells expensive, but you push the thought from your head as he welcomes you into the new building while you chat pleasantries.
“I think congratulations are in order,” you muse as he guides you to the elevator.
“Maybe numerous congratulations if we both play our cards right,” he smiles.
Your heart thunders in your chest as you reach the penthouse, and your breath catches as you enter. Much of the interior is done, but there’s been no staging yet, other than all the fixtures, the only out of place thing in the penthouse is a bottle of champagne and two glasses on the kitchen counter.
“So, there are four penthouses in all,” Seungcheol explains as he starts to give you a tour, explaining comps, pricing, developer expectations and how ‘this marble was imported from Italy’ and ‘these appliances are top line French,’ and you kind of enjoy how grandiose he is.
“So give me your proposal,” you suggest with a smile when the tour finishes back in the kitchen.
Seungcheol laughs. “You’re straight to the point, I like that.”
He begins to work on the champagne.
“Usually I’d open this after doing a deal, but I think the tour merits a drink,” Seungcheol muses.
“I bet you think it will help butter me up too.”
“Maybe.” He’s so extremely handsome when he smiles, and he pours you a glass of champagne. “So here’s the deal. I want you on my team. Your reputation speaks for itself.”
“Don’t tell me you’re offering me the penthouses.”
“I’m offering you the penthouses,” he confirms. “If you join SVT Co, I will name you manager of getting these units sold. I’ll give you your own team, help with marketing, you name it, I’ll give it to you. The developer wants these sold at around two hundred million a pop, and if you get these sold, it’s enough commission to retire the next day if you wanted to, but something tells me you’re in this game for the long run.”
“You’d be correct about that,” you smirk as you take a sip from your glass.
“When you join SVT Co, you’ll be in charge of everything it takes to get these sold. You represent the developer, and you’ll need to find buyers, but with a building of this calibre, buyers will come to you. So sure, it will be work, but think of it as a signing bonus.”
“I’m intrigued,” you confess. “Won’t your employees be mad you’re bringing a new agent in and giving her the listing of the year?”
Seungcheol shrugs. “I want to grow, and I love my agents, they’re wonderful, but sometimes it takes new blood to get things going into motion.”
“I’ll consider your offer.”
“You’ve got fourty-eight hours to consider it,” Seungcheol tells you, gently clinking his glass against your own.
You’re giddy with the possibilities of taking on this job, and Seungcheol lets you stay to look over the place as he goes to a meeting. You’re checking out the master suite when your phone rings, and you see Wonwoo’s caller ID.
“He offered you the penthouses, didn’t he?”
“No hello, how are you doing? Straight to questions, huh?” you laugh.
“I have Seungcheol’s location, I figured there was only one reason for him to go to the penthouses this late, and I noticed he pulled you aside before you left the open house, it didn’t take much to figure out what was going on,” Wonwoo says smoothly.
“You’re quite the little stalker, aren’t you, Wonwoo?”
“So shoot me, I’m curious.” You hear Wonwoo let out a breath. “Did you accept?”
“I’m thinking about it,” you muse, walking over to the windows to look out at the view of New York.
“Looks like maybe we’ll be working together after all.”
“Would you want me to come work with you?” you question. “You were pretty pissed at the open house when your coworkers were hitting on me.”
“They won’t hit on you anymore.”
“Why not?” you grin.
“Because you’re mine.”
“Really? I don’t remember signing over my rights in the contract I sent over for the apartment.”
“You’re mine because I’m yours, and inequity isn’t in my wheelhouse.”
You can hear him smiling on the other end of the line, and it intrigues you.
“Listen, the reason we broke up was distance,” Wonwoo sighs. “But I came here, to New York, to be close to you again. We could be a powerhouse together. We’ve already done one deal, if you come to SVT Co and we continue to double end things…”
He trails off, but you’re on the same page. The money you could bring in would be huge.
“I’ll tell you what I told Seungcheol,” you say finally. “I’ll think about it.”
“Well, I’ll send you my address if you end up deciding, but I assume Seungcheol gave you a time frame to respond, and I’ll give you the same countdown.”
“Fourty-eight hours it is,” you muse.
“Honey?”
“Yeah?” You hold your breath.
“I look forward to hearing from you.”
Five:
Money and prospects make you horny, so here you are, in bed, your vibrator in your hand as you think about Wonwoo and the future.
Sure, his coworkers and boss are very hot too, but you still have a soft spot for Wonwoo. He was right when he said your breakup was due to distance, but before that, your relationship had been a dream.
You were young then, still in school, nearly broke- but you’ve both grown up since then.
You start to think about Wonwoo in his suits, and you wonder what he looks like with his shirt off now. You press the vibrator harder against your clit, groaning as you consider what his hands will feel like against your body.
He’s gotten more dominant since you were in university, that much is clear. How will that dominance come out in the bedroom?
You rub the toy against your core, but your body isn’t reacting how it normally does. Part of you knows you have access to Wonwoo, that you could call him right now and experience the real thing instead of day dreaming about it, and the thought of real life sex with your ex makes your imagination seem pale in comparison.
With a groan, you sit up, and within fifteen minutes, you’re dressed and getting in an Uber to go to Wonwoo’s apartment.
It takes a bit of courage to ring the dial pad up to him, but a quick “Hey, it’s me” prompts him to hit the buzzer to let you in.
Your heart is racing in the elevator, your palms getting sweaty, and you adjust your dress, making sure your breasts are pushed up. Not that you think you’ll have to entice him like this, but it’s kind of fun to get dressed up to go seduce your ex boyfriend.
He opens the door to his apartment before you even have to knock, and he leans on the frame, grinning while his eyes look you up and down.
“Hi, honey.”
“Hi yourself,” you grin. “Are you going to let me in, or what?”
Wonwoo steps back and waves a hand.
He’s still in work attire, but a more laid back version, just navy blue dress pants and a white buttonup. He’s also without his signature glasses, and without the frames to accentuate his cheekbones, he looks softer. Something about the casual yet sophisticated look makes you feel like drooling as you enter the nice apartment.
“Twenty-four hours,” Wonwoo muses as he closes the door behind you. “I figured you’d take the full fourty-eight to make a decision.”
“I’ve been given two proposals. Join SVT Co, and get back together with you. Who’s to say I’m here to confirm both? What If I’m here to say yes to one and no to the other?” you counter.
“I say,” Wonwoo grins. “I say you’re here to confirm both.”
You set your things down on a chair in the kitchen, removing your jacket and turning to look at Wonwoo who eats you up with his eyes again.
“Or maybe I’m here to rub it in that I’m going to decline both offers,” you smirk.
“Perhaps, but if that were the case, you wouldn’t be giving me your ‘come fuck me’ eyes.” He crosses his arms over his chest and you note his forearms, which are visible with his rolled up sleeves. God, he’s definitely been working out at the gym.
“I don’t have ‘come fuck me’ eyes,” you laugh, but your skin prickles with embarassment.
“No?” Wonwoo walks closer to you, and you back up, allowing him to box you in against the counter with his hands now flat on the tables edge on either side of you.
“No,” you state, but there’s little conviction in your tone.
“The other day, you said I grew some balls and an ego to match,” Wonwoo muses, moving even closer so you can feel his breath against your face. “At least I’m ballsy enough to admit I want you back. Are you too proud to admit you feel the same way?” A grin spreads across his lips as he looks down at you. “Or do you just lack balls?”
You can’t hold yourself back anymore, you grab your face and smash your mouth to his. He kisses you back desperately, his hands finding your hips as he tugs your body flush to his own.
The two of you know each other, and sure, years have passed and things have changed, but he kisses you with just as much fiery desire as he always has, and you move in tandem.
Both of you groan, and Wonwoo’s hands slip down to your ass. He lifts you up, setting you on the kitchen counter. Your thighs spread to welcome him in, your tight dress hiking all the way up to expose your pantie clad core to the man that begins to grind against you while you make out.
Your heart is racing faster than it has in years, and you break the kiss to breathe while Wonwoo’s lips move to your throat. He licks and sucks on your skin, making you shiver with pleasure, and one of his hands slips between your bodies, finding your pussy.
He rubs your clit through your panties and you moan desperately, clinging to his broad shoulders.
“I missed your sounds,” Wonwoo groans in your ear, prompting you to also shove a hand between your bodies so you can cup his hard cock. Now it’s his turn to make a noise of pleasure, and the sound makes you practically vibrate.
“I missed yours too,” you tell him, wiggling your hips to get more stimulus on your clit.
“Fuck this,” Wonwoo cusses, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the kitchen counter. You marvel at his strength, and you cling to him as he carries you to his bedroom where he tosses you onto the bed.
He looks down at you, at your exposed thighs, at the dress scrunched up by your hips.
“I’ve thought about this,” Wonwoo admits, beginning to unbutton his shirt. “About what it would be like when I got to have you again.”
“And?” you grin.
“You look even better than I imagined.”
“I’ll feel better too,” you tease, eyes dipping to his torso as he shrugs off his buttonup. “We’ve both grown, in more ways than one.”
“You can say that again. You never used to be the girl who liked tight dresses, push up bras, and thongs.”
“And you were never the man in a suit pursuing a largely social profession,” you counter.
Wonwoo chuckles, and he joins you on the bed, closing you in as you grab him by the back of his neck and draw his lips to yours again. Your hands quickly begin to explore, tracing each new bulging muscle into your memory.
The kiss becomes heated extremely quickly, and Wonwoo pulls back, both of you breathing hard. He grabs the bottom of your dress and gingerly begins to pull it up and over your head. Both of you wear expensive clothing now, so there’s no tearing or rough tugging, and when he throws it, he aims for the armchair next to the bed.
Then he returns his lips to yours, and you thread your fingers in his hair, tugging gently.
Wonwoo lets out a deep groan, his mouth moving to your throat, and then down to your cleavage. He reaches under you, undoing the clasp of your bra with one hand, and then that too is removed.
Your nipples pebble to the cool air of his apartment, but his hot mouth finds one a moment later, and you both groan deeply.
No man has ever been as into body worship as Wonwoo was when you were together, and you give yourself over to the way he takes his time with you. He massages your neglected breast with a large, warm hand, his thumb teasing the sensitive bud while his mouth continues on the other.
You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second, and you can’t help but wriggle your hips, a silent plea for him to continue the descent that you know is coming.
Wonwoo laughs, pulling away from your breasts to look up at you. “Someone is eager.”
“I need you,” you whimper.
“I’ve waited years to hear you say that again,” Wonwoo groans with pleasure, kissing down your body until he reaches the waistband of your thong. He gingerly tugs it off of you, sinking to the foot of the bed, his knees on the floor as he drags you to the edge.
You’re fully naked now, and it feels so natural to be nude with Wonwoo.
There’s no anxiety, no hesitation, only lust and anticipation.
He slowly kisses up your thigh, spreading your legs with his large hands. When he reaches your core, he looks up at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and then, he dives in.
He holds nothing back, lapping and sucking at your pussy with the appetite of a starved man.
You can’t help the whimpers and moans that immediately escape you, your hands reaching down so you can tangle your fingers in his hair, keeping him locked to your core.
For every man you’ve ever met, you’d go so far as to say you prefer vibrators to a mouth on your clit, but fuck, Wonwoo knows what he’s doing. It’s as if he only ate you out yesterday, and he maneuvers your body like an expert, knowing exactly what you like. You suppose your sexual tastes haven’t changed in the years since you were with him, and the fact that he remembers your preferences makes your stomach twist into pleasurable knots.
He sucks on your clit while you moan and writhe, and soon, he’s groaning too. Ever the giver, Wonwoo receives pleasure when he’s making you feel good, and that only turns you on more.
Soon, you’re close to the edge, and you’re shocked at how easy it is to fall back into this familiar pace with Wonwoo.
“I’m close!” you warn him, tugging harder on his hair and earning more groans of pleasure, the vibrations stimulating your clit even more.
He sucks roughly on your clit, and your thighs twitch, muscles pulling tight before the release that comes just seconds later.
You gasp loudly, your thighs closing around his head, toes curling as waves of pleasure surge through you like electric heat.
Wonwoo doesn’t let up, and your legs tightening around his skull don’t dissuade him either, he works you through your orgasm to the point of overstimulation, until you’re nearly shaking, your moans loud enough to wake the neighbours, then he pulls back.
You’re both breathing heavily, and you slump down against the bed, heart racing as you try to collect yourself.
You watch as Wonwoo licks his lips clean, and then he stands, slowly working on his pants and giving you time to recuperate.
In a moment, he’s as naked as you are, and you realize his shoulders and arms aren’t the only thing that’s grown. Somehow, his cock has even gotten bigger, and your core twitches with desperation.
“Move up by the pillows, honey,” Wonwoo prompts, and you do as you’re told, wiggling up so you’re more comfortably resting in the centre of the bed.
Wonwoo gets on top of you, and your legs wrap around him, your hands once more drawing his lips to yours.
There’s something sinful but sexy about the taste of your pussy on his lips as he kisses you, and he pushes his thigh up toward your core so you can rub against him.
You moan desperately against his mouth, tugging on his hair and earning moans from him too.
You rub on him until he removes his thigh, replacing it with his hand, and two long fingers easily slip into your soaked hole, making you whimper.
“I missed making you cum,” Wonwoo growls, his lips moving to your throat. “Missed your sounds, and the way your pussy clenches around me. Missed the insatiable way you wiggle, how needy you are to cum.”
You can’t even find the words to respond, all you can do is grab at him and moan, mind and body both pleasantly overwhelmed by him.
He crooks his fingers up toward your g-spot and you choke on your own sounds, core clamping down on his digits.
“This is still the spot, huh?” Wonwoo chuckles. “We haven’t changed that much, have we?”
He strokes the spot repeatedly while sucking on your throat, and he grinds his palm against your clit, creating the perfect frenzy of pleasure that has you gasping and writhing beneath him again in record time.
“You’ll cum for me again, right, honey?” Wonwoo asks. “I won’t fuck you until you do.”
“I’m close,” you confess, grabbing his bicep and squeezing, loving the way his muscles bulge.
“That’s my girl.”
Your body shivers at his words, and you love the way he’s claimed you. If it was anyone else speaking to you like this, you might get mad. You’ve created a reputation as a force to be reckoned with, as a businesswoman who bows for no man- but perhaps, you can bow for your ex. For your first love. Who has done so much to come back into your life, to chase you to the big city to pursue a relationship that only ended because your goals had outgrown the town where you had fallen in love.
He continues to finger fuck you, perfectly stimulating your g-spot and your clit, and soon, you’re tipping over the edge again, your pussy squelching with wet pleasure as ecstasy rocks through you.
You grip him tightly like an anchor while your body flutters and contracts, mind numb except for the pleasure Wonwoo can uniquely provide for you.
“That’s it,” he coos, kissing your throat and making you shiver.
He works you through your second orgasm, and like the first, he’s an expert of knowing when it’s about to become pained pleasure, when he’s crossing the boarder into overstimulation, and at that point, he retreats.
Wonwoo sits up, licking his fingers clean with a groan and giving you time to recuperate.
“You’re still on birth control?” he asks.
“Yes, and STI free.”
He lets out a chuckle. “Me too.”
“Then fuck me.”
“I’m getting to it,” he grins.
You love how playful this is, as if no time at all has passed since you last slept together.
He slots between your thighs again, and you welcome him into a heated kiss while he grabs the base of his cock, lining up his tip with your wet, awaiting core.
He pushes into you easily, not wasting a moment, his full cock entering you until his hips are flush with your own.
You groan desperately into the kiss, your pussy clamping down like a vice on his cock.
“Feels good?” he asks.
“Feels amazing,” you confirm.
He grins when he presses his lips to yours again, and he slowly begins to thrust. You whimper with each bottom out, loving how thick and long he is, filling you up exactly right.
Wonwoo laces his fingers with yours, drawing your hand above your head, where he locks it in place, keeping you partly imobalized as he fucks you. You love that he has the power, love that even while being more dominant, he’s still as soft as he’s ever been.
Wonwoo is, without fault, a lover who leans on the gentle side. He praises, never degrades. He checks in on you, and knows your limits.
For so long, you suppressed the love you felt for Wonwoo, but it’s as if the floodgates have opened, and all of those memories and feelings come rushing back in, washing you with a warm feeling that is blooming deep in your abdomen after being neglected for so long.
His pace increases, and he squeezes your hand, betraying how much he’s needed this too.
But then he pulls back, looking down at you with eyes full of adoration. He gently adjusts your thigh on his hip, lifting it so he can drape your leg against his shoulder. He kisses your calf and repeats the motion on the other side, then leans over you again, folding you in half.
Now, his cock reaches even deeper, spreading you open deliciously.
You whimper, grabbing at the bed sheets to ground yourself as he slowly fucks into you, making sure he hits your deepest spots with every thrust.
“Fuck, Wonwoo!” you groan.
“You look so good like this, honey,” he tells you. “Taking me so well.”
Your core pulses around him again, body reacting to the praise.
“Fuck,” he cusses, fucking you even harder.
Mating press isn’t a position you have had much experience with, but God does it feel good.
The deep angle, the closeness-
Your entire body is starting to feel electrically charged again, the knots twisting in your stomach.
“You close again, honey?” he chuckles.
“It just feels so good,” you whimper desperately.
“Well, how about this, you cum, and I’ll cum with you.”
With a shaky nod, you adjust slightly, reaching between your bodies so you can rub your clit.
The first contact makes you throw your head back, eyes clenching shut from the stimulus, core throbbing around Wonwoo again, who lets out a deep moan.
“Just like that,” he tells you. “Keep doing that.”
You rub your clit even harder, loud whimpers and whines escaping you now. Each second is a step closer to the edge, for both of you, and you give yourself to the oncoming pleasure.
Despite being mentally prepared for your orgasm, it still rocks you to the core when it hits, and it’s the most intense of all three highs you’ve experienced tonight.
Your thighs shake, your heart thundering in your chest as your core contracts desperately around Wonwoo.
In a sudden movement, he releases your legs from your shoulders, returning to missionary so he can press his lips against yours, muffling your sounds as he explodes inside of you.
You thread your fingers through his hair, desperately clutching at him as you ride out your orgasms together, completely enraptured in the pleasure you both give each other.
You’re not sure how long you cum for, but even when you’re finished, you’re still passionately kissing Wonwoo, and neither of you pull away. You continue to make out even as your heart rate lessens, and your core stops throbbing, and something about that feels so right.
Wonwoo is the one to finally break the kiss, groaning and burying his face against your throat.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he says.
“I missed you too,” you tell him, stroking his back as you fight back tears.
You’ve never been one to be emotional after an orgasm, but with Wonwoo, the feelings come strong and naturally. You’re unable to fight it as your body betrays the need you’d tried for so long to suppress.
“I knew we’d get back together,” he muses.
“Oh?”
“The tension between us when we met again after all these years… I knew you still loved me, and if it makes you feel better, I never stopped loving you either.”
You let his words sink in as you stroke his shoulders, holding him tightly with a grip on his hips that is unrelenting.
Wonwoo pulls away from your neck, looking down at you with a smile. “Also, don’t get mad.”
“What?” you freeze.
“I may have accidentally marked your neck.”
“What?”
“A hickey.” His fingers gently brush the spot he’d been sucking on earlier. “Oops.”
If it were from any other person, a hickey would have sent you off the handle, but you can’t even bring yourself to be mad at Wonwoo, and soon, you find yourself giggling. “I guess we haven’t grown that much since University if you’re still giving me hickies,” you tease.
“Maybe not,” he concedes, stroking your face lovingly.
“I’ll call Seungcheol tomorrow and accept the job.”
“You can’t seriously be thinking about my boss at a time like this,” Wonwoo laughs.
“I’m not. I’m thinking about our future together,” you chuckle.
“I guess that’s not so bad.” Wonwoo presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Not so bad at all.”
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I hope the real estate lingo was easy enough to follow :)
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!
🔮 preview. Wonwoo’s coworkers still flirt with you playfully, but it’s only to ever earn a reaction out of your generally stoic boyfriend. You and real estate are the only two things he is possessive of, and your boyfriend is quick to wrap his own arm around your waist and tug you away from his friend.
cw/ tw.Unprotected sex, oral, blow job, hand job, masturbation, pussy eating, multiple sex positions, gentle spanking, slight manhandling, multiple reader orgasms, slight overstimulation, dirty talk, praise, I petnames. (hers) honey.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 160
🌙 starring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader
bonus
You’ve been with SVT Co for two years now, and the money and deals have been flowing as easily as ever. To congratulate the rise in the company’s status in New York, Seungcheol is throwing a huge party, so here you are, all dolled up with your sexy boyfriend on your arm as you bask in the glow that is pure success.
“Congratulations on that recent double-ended sale you two did,” Dokyeom grins, pulling you in for a hug before looking at Wonwoo. “Although he had the easy job since you brought him the buyer, I think.”
His coworkers love to tease him like this, and Wonwoo rolls his eyes.
“When are you going to bring me a buyer?” Mingyu jokes, nudging your arm and shuffling closer to you.
“When you start taking interesting listings,” you fire back, gently elbowing him in the ribs.
Everyone laughs at the way Mingyu fakes pain from the gentle touch, and then his arm moves around your shoulders.
☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.5k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here
👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here
🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list
gamechangershow
gummygunk
2087
areudirty
yousharknotpass
stormborns
izzy806
