I have two wips in progress, and let me know which one you’d like me to post first :)
1) Mr mystery part two (mortal coups x celestial being reader)
2) raw, primal: fear (title could be changed) (jeonghan x chef!reader, zombie apocalypse au)
I don’t think I’ll be uploading them until maybe next week, but which one would you prefer first anyways? let me know and thank you for interacting with my post :)
if u guys also have any ideas or requests do let me know ik i took so long making the last one but it was super fun to write (thank u for trusting me)
summary: this thing you have with vernon—whatever it is—is easy. mutually beneficial. an outlet. considering feelings can get messy and rent is too damn expensive anywhere else, neither of you want to complicate it, content to leave it as-is. before, you would've even gone so far as to call it casual. not anymore.
➥ pairing: vernon x f. reader
➥ genre: roommates to lovers; established fwb; porn with (some) plot; smut, fluff
➥ rating: explicit. minors do not interact.
➥ warnings: swearing. two idiots engaging in idiot behavior. slight jealousy and possessiveness but not really and nothing toxic. unlabeled relationship dynamics, i.e. friends with benefits until it isn't. reader wears vernon's clothes and he lifts her, but there is no mention of weight/size otherwise. pet names (vernon drops a "dude" during sex which is canon as far as i'm concerned) and related banter. they are cute and match each other's freak, your honor.
➥ smut warnings: gendered terms for genitalia. kissing. grinding/rutting. oral sex (both receiving). deepthroating. spit. fingering. lite biting. marking. dirty talk. nipple play. multiple orgasms. spanking. a lil ass play. protected vaginal sex.
➥ wordcount: 6.5k
➥ credits: i edited as i went but this was not formally beta'd so any mistakes are my own. title & lyrics from "hypothetical" by the beaches.
➥ author's note: i'd say idk where this came from but that'd be a lie. half of this is @haologram's fault for putting me on a breathe carolina kick; the other half is vernon's sheer existence, which tortures me daily. tagging @sailorsoons bc i didn't actually block her for putting me in her burn book and @imnotshua bc she asked me to. this is pure filth and i hope you enjoy it.
The shower cuts off and you tap your phone screen to check the time: 10:38, it says.
Vernon and his friends keep weird hours, taking advantage of their youth to essentially exist nocturnally, so you’re not surprised. You know this particular routine. After he disappears into his bedroom, it’ll remain blissfully quiet for only a moment until his goin out playlist starts up. You count the seconds in your head as they pass. One, two, ten. Whatever song greets you tonight must be new—you don’t recognize it, but it’s still loud enough to make the walls vibrate.
You cringe, already knowing there’ll be another noise complaint taped to your door in the morning. If he stays out late enough, Vernon might even stumble down the hallway, drunk off too many Rum and Cokes, and peel it off before you can get to it, tossing it onto the kitchen counter where it’ll lay forgotten until your building manager sends a tart email to follow up and demand payment.
When you hear his dresser drawers repeatedly opening and closing, you know you won’t be seeing him anytime soon. That’s the sound of frustration—the sound of a dozen shirts being peeled over his head and tossed on the floor. You know this routine, too.
Vernon always justifies the mess by saying none of them looked right.
You always fire back that there’s no way a dude who owns eight of the same plain white t-shirt should keep running into the same issue.
And most of the time—not every time, but most—you always laugh as Vernon grabs you around the waist and presses you against the dresser. As he leans in close, skin still warmed through from his shower, and says some shit like, “You think you’re funny, huh?” in a low, hoarse tone—almost teasing but not quite—before his lips find the pulse point on your neck and render you incapable of thought.
Some nights, you take the bruises he left behind out the door with you as the two of you meet up with your people or his, your friend groups so intertwined by now you weren’t sure where one ended and the other began. Some nights, he leaves them as a parting gift at the door as he goes one way and you go the other. And then there are the nights you wear no reminders of him at all, though they’ve become far less frequent. Nights like tonight.
It’s not a thing.
Whether or not he’s etched into your skin, it’s all the same to you. To him. The marks he sucks into the column of your throat are the work of a vagrant. Vernon is free to come and go as he pleases, just as you are, neither of you willing to put a collar around the neck of whatever it is you’ve got going on. Because it’s fun. Because it’s mutually beneficial. Because it’s an easy outlet and it’s casual, even when Vernon goes down on you like a man starved and refuses to relent until you’re nearly catatonic and he no longer recognizes the sound of his name in your mouth.
Because it’s not a thing.
And because it’s not a thing, you pay no mind to the way Vernon looks at you—brows knit together, just barely visible through the crack in the door—as you pass by on the way to the bathroom to take a shower of your own. You pay no mind to the uncapped bottle of cologne he left on the counter and forgot to put back. You pay no mind when his playlist fades into something more sensual—you can barely hear it over the water, anyway—and you pay no mind when you reach for and wrap yourself in a towel that smells like Vernon because it doesn’t smell any different than it usually does. You pay no mind when you pass by his bedroom again and his door is shut in the same way you pay no mind when you grab the first clean shirt you find and slip it over your head.
On nights like this, you have a routine of your own, too.
Some arthouse film on the living room TV in a language you don’t understand, subtitles ignored so they don’t distract you from doomscrolling your social media feeds until your brain feels ready to leak out of your ears. Tonight, you queue up Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless. And you know Vernon will complain all the way out the door because it’s been at the top of his to-watch list for ages, Letterboxd review primed and ready, but you can’t shake the feeling that something about tonight feels different, that a strange energy has settled over the apartment you and him share, so maybe you’re feeling a little petty.
Maybe you’re feeling inclined to play with fire, just to see if you get burned.
So you toss a blanket over the back of the couch and start your doomscrolling early, nose buried in your phone as you make your way to the kitchen. Vernon had given you an endless amount of shit for your Diet Coke habit—fridge cigs, he called them—so you’d made the switch to seltzer. They’re a subpar and depressing substitute, truth be told, but bad habits wouldn’t be bad if they were easy to kick. As you reach for a can of strawberry watermelon, you scroll through your Instagram feed. Seokmin and his girlfriend are in Tokyo Disney. You double-tap the post. Seungcheol has posted a carousel of shirtless gym selfies. Snorting, you comment a single thumbs-down emoji with one hand as the other sets the can on the counter and absentmindedly works to pop the tab. You’re halfway through reading the plethora of thirst comments on Mingyu’s latest post when—
“Need help?”
You startle, phone tumbling to the floor. Without thinking, you bend over to retrieve it. Once you’re upright and turned ninety degrees, you’re met with the sight of your roommate. He’s leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, toned arms crossed over yet another white t-shirt. As his eyes roam over your body, a heat settles in the pit of your stomach. Vernon looks at you often, but you can’t remember the last time he looked at you like this: hyperfocused and intense, like it’d take a bullet between the eyes to get him to look anywhere else—and even then he’d keep trying. Still staring, he presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek before running it along his bottom lip. Sinks his white teeth into it.
Somewhere in the hazy recesses of your mind, you remember you aren’t wearing any underwear. That you’d thrown the shirt over your head and called it good enough, expecting to have the apartment to yourself until the early hours of the morning. That when you bent over to grab your phone, Vernon must’ve seen everything and that’s why he’s looking at you with such fervent hunger. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but suddenly you feel embarrassed and self-conscious; embarrassed and a little stupid. Warmth floods your cheeks. You reach for the hem of your t-shirt, but your attempts to pull it down, to cover you just a little bit more, are in vain.
Not that it matters. Vernon erases the distance between you in a few short steps, swatting your hands away and replacing them with his own. Fabric bunched tightly in his grip, he uses the leverage to pull you flush against him, mouth finding yours before you even have a chance to think—to protest or push him away, to ask what he’s doing. But you wouldn’t do any of that, would you? You’re under his spell, entranced by the sharp gasp of relief when his tongue slips into your mouth and meets yours. When he walks you backwards and traps you against the counter, making you feel all of him. When your hands tangle in his hair and tug in the way you know he likes and he hikes your thigh around his waist, pressing in closer, too frenzied to care about the cheap laminate digging into the small of your back.
You cant your hips forward and roll them against the bulge in Vernon’s sweatpants. Distantly, you wonder where the fuck he was going to wear sweatpants to, but the sound he makes is so desperate and shattered it nearly brings you to your knees. Which you drop to without thought, emboldened by the breathless way Vernon swears and mutters your name as you look up at him from the floor, eyes wide and lips pouty, projecting an innocence you don’t possess. Hands on the back of his thighs, you pull him closer; he swears again as he stumbles, grabbing the counter for balance. One hand moves to the top of your head and guides your face to the juncture of his hip, right next to his hard cock that now strains against the restraints of the fabric.
You breathe, open-mouthed, and smile to yourself when his cock twitches from the warmth it provides. Makes you want to ruin him. Makes you want to stick out your tongue and run it along the length of him, soaking through and ruining his clothes, and that gives you pause. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” you ask, nuzzling your face against his cock.
Vernon tries to shake his head. Aborts the attempt halfway in lieu of untying his sweats and pushing them down his thighs. His hands shake as he returns them to the counter; returns to looming over you, making space for nothing except him. “Baby, please,” he urges. “Need your mou—”
You ignore him. Run your thumb over the spot on his briefs where the precum soaked through just to watch his cock twitch again. His entire body shudders. “Where were you going?” you ask again, tone making it clear this is a give-and-take; that he’s not going to get what he wants until he answers.
“Shit, I—I had a date.”
You’re unprepared for the way your stomach drops. How foolish and cheap you feel being on your knees for a man who was on his way out the door to fuck someone else. The split-second of panic, because Vernon’s gone on a hundred dates and it’s never felt like this before. It’s not supposed to. And Vernon notices—notices the way you go stock-still and the way your breath hitches as it gets stuck in your throat—and you can’t have that. You can’t let this become a discussion. Can’t let whatever this is between you be given a name, because then it’s real. Then it means something. Then it’s a thing.
It’s dizzying how quickly you push these feelings to the side and pivot, returning to your original plan, allowing your mind to go blank as you sink into the chemistry between the two of you, the constant thrum of energy. As you stick out your tongue and flatten it against the underside of his clothed cock. As you suck and lick and act like you’re entirely unfazed as you reach for his waistband. As you let Vernon roll his hips against your face as you slowly undress him, seeking friction, seeking more, more, always more; let the whimpers that bite at the back of his teeth make you brave as you ask, “Mm, were you gonna fuck her?” and don’t give him time to respond before you take him into your mouth.
Vernon looks down. Sees the way your lips stretch around his cock, the spit pooling at the corners, and the sound that erupts from him is pure, animalistic desire. It drives you crazy. He drives you crazy. Has you reaching between your legs as you feel yourself growing wetter by the second. You swipe your fingers through your folds. Use whatever wetness you find there to slick up the length of Vernon’s cock you have yet to swallow, managing to keep your pace steady even though his next moan is guttural and sends a shock of lightning straight to your pussy; even though you want him mindless with pleasure.
Your knees scrape against the tile as you shift. You can’t help but smile, knowing they’ll bruise.
Looks like you’ll be wearing a reminder of him after all.
Vernon’s cock hits the back of your throat, his entire body shuddering once more as you gag and cough, throat muscles tightening around him and nearly spelling his undoing. Noises continue to spill out of him—ones you’ve never heard him make before—and he’s too far gone to hold them back. Oh my fuck—shit, baby, I can’t— as his hands fly to your face, trying to pull you off of him, trying desperately not to come, but it only makes the suction more overwhelming. He’s mindless, just like you wanted him to be, but it’s not enough. Something about Vernon makes you insatiable, so you double your efforts, making lewd sounds of your own as you somehow take him deeper, nose coming to rest in the dark thatch of hair just above his cock. He makes you greedy, so you place one of his hands on the top of your head and let him take what he wants; let him throw his head back and fuck your throat as tears streak your face.
His balls tighten, drawing closer to his body, and as much as you love this—love the weight of his cock on your tongue and the taste of his precum, all salt and something undeniably Vernon—you need to feel him fall apart because of you. Need to feel his hands still, body going taut as he spills down your throat. Need him to smear his cum on your lips as he slowly draws his cock out of your mouth, and when he pulls you to standing and grabs you by the back of your neck with trembling hands, you need him to taste himself as he kisses you so fiercely it steals the breath from your lungs and leaves you gasping.
But you should’ve known Vernon wasn’t going to do any of that. Should’ve known he’d have plans of his own.
Vernon does pull you to standing. Does smear your lips with precum as he pulls out, but he doesn’t kiss it away. Instead, he gathers it with the edge of his thumb and presses his digit into your mouth, against the flat of your tongue. His eyes flutter closed as you suction your swollen lips around it and hum in satisfaction; as you make a show of savoring the taste of both his skin and his cum. Vernon leans in close, teeth nipping at the lobe of your ear, and your body breaks out in goosebumps as he says, “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” in that hoarse, fucked-out tone you’ve become so familiar with.
How crazy? you want to ask. Crazier than her—whoever the fuck you’re supposed to go meet? Whoever it is I’m keeping you from?
Isn’t that answer enough, though? Doesn’t it speak for itself that Vernon is here with you, in the cramped kitchen of the apartment you share, clearly not in a rush to do anything except lift you onto the counter and bury his face between your legs? As his lips suction around your clit and you writhe, rolling your hips against his hot mouth, haven’t you already won a game you didn’t know you were playing?
Still—it’s sadistic, this need to know. So you tangle your hands in his hair and grip it tight at the roots, swearing when Vernon throws your leg over his shoulder and spits on your pussy before pressing two fingers deep, and ask, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
Vernon scoffs. Sinks his teeth into the inside of your thigh and eases the sting with his tongue. “I did,” he concedes, “until I saw you in my t-shirt with no fuckin’ panties on.”
Oh, you gasp. Another rush of heat licks up your spine, and you’re thankful when Vernon goes back to licking and sucking at your cunt, so good it has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, sparing you the embarrassment of a response. Your chest heaves. Every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire, like you’ve been consumed by white-hot electricity as an orgasm begins to spark, starting in your toes before it settles in the pit of your stomach. You cry out. One hand scrambles for purchase, desperately searching for anything to hold onto, anything that can ground you, while the other grips Vernon’s hair tighter and attempts to push him away.
It’s too much, too overwhelming, but he’s relentless. Forces your legs back open when they try to clamp shut around his head. Teases your hole with a third finger just to hear you whine before he changes his mind and presses the two already deep in your pussy against your G-spot. Your entire body seizes. Your vision grows staticky around the edges. You know you’re saying something, that noises and words are spilling from your lips in an endless stream of psychobabble, but all you can hear is the obscene squelch coming from between your legs. Mouth otherwise occupied, all Vernon can do is groan against your cunt, relishing in the rewards of his labor, and the vibrations—
“Shit,” you whine, so far gone that your own voice sounds foreign. “Shit, shit—Vernon, I’m gonna—”
He pulls away just enough to say, “Yeah, you fuckin’ are.” You can feel your pussy spasming around his fingers as you hurtle closer to the edge. Vernon presses them more insistently against your front wall. Your hips take on a mind of their own, grinding down on his fingers hysterically as you grow more frantic, more desperate to come. “That’s it, baby,” he rasps. “Just let go, I got you. Yeah, give it to me, baby, I got you. Wanna see you come all over my fuckin’ fingers, wanna taste it.” You release your grasp on his hair and skim your hand beneath your shirt, fingers tweaking and pinching at your nipples. Vernon nearly loses his mind when he sees it. “Goddamn, what the fuck, you’re so—” The sound he makes is downright tortured. “Need you to come right fucking now.” It’s the last thing you hear before Vernon puts his mouth back to work.
And you do.
Your orgasm slams into you like a tidal wave. It bowls you over, pulls you beneath the surface with its force and intensity, makes you feel like you’re drowning. Your whole body tenses, muscles contracting and releasing just like the tide. Vernon’s hands are steady on your thighs as he reminds you to breathe, warm as the aftershocks wrack your body and leave you trembling, resolute as they push his underwear and sweatpants the rest of the way off his legs and onto the kitchen floor, and restrained as he begins to stroke his cock.
Despite the part of Vernon that doesn’t mind being watched—that gets a sick little thrill out of it; that comes to life and blossoms beneath your gaze—you try not to stare, but it doesn’t matter. Something about the way Vernon touches himself leaves you entranced: the way his brows crease, as if the slow, languid strokes are agonizing rather than blissful; the way his kiss-swollen lips part and his quiet groans are breathy and staccato; the way he’s wholly unashamed of being on display when it’s you that’s watching.
When you finally manage to tear your eyes away, you find him looking back, wearing that indecipherable look again.
Being eaten out on your kitchen counter leaves little room for self-consciousness, but you find yourself slowly closing your legs, sitting up hesitantly. “What?” you ask, reaching for your face, subconsciously searching for anything that might be amiss. You find nothing. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”
All that fills the silence is the sound of blood rushing through your ears. It lingers a second longer before Vernon tilts his head to the side. “You know it’s only you, right?”
“What?” you ask again, voice barely above a whisper.
He takes a step closer, back in your field of orbit, your gravitational pull, once more. Steps close enough to run his hand up your thigh and part your legs wide enough for him to stand between them. All the while, he never stops touching himself, and he’s close enough that you feel the back and forth of every stroke on your own skin. But if you were expecting Vernon to elaborate, he leaves you disappointed. Uses his mouth to kiss you instead; to lick into your mouth and impart your sweetness onto your tongue. Just like you wear the blemishes he leaves behind, he wears your taste, and it leaves you feeling crazed. Delirious. Has you moaning into his mouth and trying to swallow him whole. Has you wrapping your legs around his waist, voice ruined from the abuse your throat had taken as you say, “Fuck me, fuck me, right here, Vernon, please, just like this—”
Vernon’s hand stills as he throws his head back and swears. Mutters your name so severely you can’t tell if it’s meant to be a prayer or if he’s taking it in vain. But this, too, is rendered inconsequential when he reaches for a condom and rolls it down his length; when his hands, tacky from sweat and precum, wrap around your hips and pull you closer to the edge of the counter; when your ass hangs over just enough for him to line himself up and sink inch after inch of his cock into your tight heat.
“Fuuuck,” he groans. He pauses when he bottoms out, giving himself a second to breathe—almost as if he can’t remember how to; like his lungs are functioning manually. And when he starts moving again, he does so slowly, breathing harshly through his nose every time he rolls his hips. His hands flex. Jaw clenches. His skin glistens with sweat from the exertion of holding himself back, of not busting into the condom immediately. “How do you—god, how does it feel better every fucking time?”
You don’t know; you don’t know anything right now, mind having gone blank at the stretch and overwhelming fullness of him, how oversensitive you are from your first orgasm. From this angle, Vernon is so close to nailing your G-spot with every thrust. You shift, trying to adjust so that he can, selfish and starved for every ounce of pleasure he’s capable of giving, but there’s only so much space, only so much you can do with the height difference. Still, it’s not enough. You slip a hand between your legs and Vernon’s eyes go wide at the sight of you rubbing circles into your clit. He swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he fucks into you just that little bit faster, that little bit harder, trying to give you what you want.
Vernon leans in closer. Presses his lips to the spot just beneath your ear, over your jaw, the corner of your mouth before he kisses you properly, tongue sliding over yours as he swallows every sound you make. He kisses you until you’re dizzy; until you’re drunk with need. He kisses you until he can feel the erratic pounding of your heart through every breath you share.
“You need more, don’t you, baby?”
And then you’re left aching and empty when he abruptly pulls out and secures your legs around his waist, palms moving to the meat of your ass, his grip firm as he lifts you again. You think he’s going to fuck you right there on the floor, take you from behind until your knees are skinned and raw; instead, Vernon carries you over the threshold into the living room. Has barely made it five steps before he has you pressed against the wall, his hard cock trapped uselessly against his stomach as he ruts against your hip, your thigh, whatever provides enough friction.
A broken moan makes your toes curl. You dig your nails into the skin of his back and he shudders, breath labored and ragged as he says, “Shit, yeah, love it when you mark me up.” His hands grip you tighter, dimple the skin of your ass, press you further into the wall as he crowds against you, still rutting, hips rolling at a mindless, subconscious pace. “Love when I can feel you on me for days.” This admission comes out as a growl—like he’s offended by its honesty, hates that it’s true.
Ultimately, it’s another statement you aren’t able to question. Vernon keeps moving. Carries you from the wall to the couch, bending you over the back of it, burying your face in the cushion. Warm hands ghost beneath your shirt and down the length of your back. He kisses every knot and all the spaces in between, and digs his thumbs into the dimples at the base of your spine. His teeth nip playfully at one asscheek; you can feel his smile when you squeal and jerk in his hold. And then he must look up, must see what’s on the television, because he goes stock-still. Before you can ask if everything is okay, Vernon says, “Dude, what the fuck? You were gonna watch Breathless without me?”
You hear the crack of his hand against your ass before you feel it.
You’re left momentarily stunned by the impact, sharp and sudden. What begins as a startled gasp trails off into a low, drawn-out moan, but it’s your turn to smile. A private smirk just for you for having read him like a book—pages yellowed and well-worn from repeated use, all of your favorite lines memorized. “Oh no,” you tease, wiggling your ass for added effect, “am I in trouble?”
Vernon laughs; a quick huff of breath through his nose. He moves one of his thumbs lower, from the small of your back to the rim of your asshole, and in your head you can see the way he tongues the inside of his cheek, his focused stare. There’s no pressure. He doesn’t push. Just traces slow, maddening circles against the puckered skin. He only pauses to ask, “Mm, d’you wanna be?” And then you hear him gather the spit in his mouth, feel the warmth of it trickle over your rim, and when he resumes his torture the glide is flawless.
You deepen the arch in your back, hoping it’s enough to lure him in. “I want you to fuck me,” comes your tart response, suddenly bold. “Wanna come again.”
He doesn’t take the bait. “Greedy today, huh?” Increases the pressure of his thumb. It’s still not enough to breach your hole, but it is enough to have you imagining the possibilities, mind spinning at a mercurial pace as it ponders the what-ifs. How it’d feel if he fingered you open and fucked you there. If the taboo nature of it alone could get you off. “When have I ever not given you what you wanted?”
“Right now,” you snark.
Vernon laughs again as he says, “You’re such a fucking brat,” but it does the trick. Gets him moving. He pulls your cheeks apart and spits again, using his free hand to gather and mix it with the mess that still lingers between your legs. Presses two fingers back inside your pussy to make sure you’re wet enough, that it won’t hurt, and rolls his hips once, cock fitting between your folds, to coat himself in your slick. “Ready, baby?” he murmurs.
You nod. As if there was even the slightest possibility of you answering any other way.
You’re still a little swollen, still sensitive, but Vernon takes his time. Fucks you open slowly and savors it. Even though he was just inside you, there’s still a slight burn to the stretch that has you breathing steady and measured through your nose. It grows sharper as he quickens his pace—not punishing, but relentless. Every roll of his hips urges you forward with nowhere to go; has you cursing Vernon choosing this couch, because each movement sends yours crashing into the unforgiving frame, hardwood biting at your skin even through the fabric.
Another set of bruises to wear.
“You feel so fucking good,” he grits out. His hands are everywhere now, grabbing at whatever he can find, the fabric of his shirt bunched tightly in his grip. Probably ruined, you think, but neither of you seem to care. You’ll wear it like this, too far beyond its original shape to be salvaged, neckline outstretched and hanging off one shoulder, and you’ll remember the way Vernon fucked you in the kitchen, against the couch. You’ll remember the way he looked at you, the way you couldn’t figure out what it meant, and “You know it’s only you, right?” You’ll remember what film you meant to watch and that you never got a chance to drink your seltzer. Or maybe you’ll have gone back to Diet Coke by then, uncaring of Vernon’s playful jabs.
Despite your best efforts, this has been a thing for a long time.
“Fuck,” you swear as the realization dawns on you.
Vernon misinterprets it. His voice is tense and husky as he says, “Yeah, baby? Just like this?” and wraps an arm around you, fingers finding your clit easily. You’re putty in his arms, helpless to do anything but take it—his cock, the orgasm that’s steadily building, the veil that’s lifted and exposed the extent of your feelings.
This wasn’t meant to happen. The first time had been a major lapse in judgment. Both of you had agreed on that—that, coincidentally, the two of you had been extremely horny at the same time and that it couldn’t happen again because rent was too goddamn high anywhere else and you didn’t want to risk it becoming complicated and weird. The second time you conveniently blamed on leaving Joshua’s birthday slash New Years party tipsy, drunk less on the alcohol you’d drank and more on the stupid stick and poke tattoos you and Vernon had given each other on Joshua’s kitchen floor—the ones that still looked like shit when you woke up in his bed the next morning and fucked him for the third time.
Every time after that? Well, you have no excuse or explanation for those yet.
Naturally, there’s a part of you that panics, that still feels a little stupid and cheap when you remember Vernon was meant to be on a date. Was meant to spend the night with someone else—someone he clearly liked enough to wear his expensive cologne and fuss over which shirt to wear and swap out his goin out playlist for the more sensual one.
But that part of you is quieted by his presence. The fact that he’s here with you; that it’s you he calls baby, you that’s making him lose his mind, you that tells him to sit on the couch so you can ride him, you that he obeys without question.
As you straddle his waist, you spare a second to take him in, admire him: the freckles that form constellations on his cheeks and across his nose; the blond streaks of hair he’d insisted you bleach for him after he came home with a mullet; the slight downturn at the corners of his mouth, as if he can’t figure out why you aren’t kissing him, so you do. You lean forward and cup his face in your hands, thumbs coming to rest against those high cheekbones that drive you crazy, and press your lips to his. Vernon gasps into your mouth, caught off guard by the softness of it, and places a hand on your throat—not squeezing, not choking; just as a means to anchor himself.
It’s you that pulls away first, hands moving to the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head. Vernon stops you with a very firm, “Absolutely not. That stays on.”
You roll your eyes, face growing hot at how hard your pussy clenches at his words, their implication. Vernon hisses when you grab his cock and lift your hips, lining it up with your entrance. Both of you moan when you begin to lower yourself onto his cock, inch after delicious inch filling you for the third time tonight. “Didn’t take you for the possessive type,” you tease, somehow managing to maintain your composure as you take him to the hilt, so deep you grow winded; so deep it feels like your breath has been punched from your lungs.
“I don’t—god.” He grits his teeth, throwing his head back and baring the long line of his neck. “Don’t give a fuck what you take me for.”
Another smile you keep for yourself. “Aw, babe, that’s so cute,” you coo, knowing that if your condescension doesn’t send him spiraling further, the way you circle your hips—the way each roll has him pressing perfectly against your front wall—will. “Don’t pretend. It’s only me, right?” You lean back, hands moving to his thighs for balance as you parrot his words back to him. Your hips begin to move up and down, pace seamless as you fuck yourself along the length of his cock.
Vernon can’t seem to figure out what to do with his hands, what they’re meant to do. They flex uselessly at his sides, tendons moving like snakes beneath the skin. Color ruddies his cheeks. A bead of sweat rolls from his hairline down his temple and you chase it with your tongue. A litany of curses tumble from his mouth and devolve into gibberish on every downstroke; at how obscene it sounds every time your ass hits his lap, tacky from the slick mess between your legs, wet skin slapping against wet skin.
He’s balancing on a knife’s edge; on the brink of losing the last threads of control.
So you quicken your pace, your cunt clenching and fluttering around him as you lean forward and kiss him messily, more teeth than tongue. As you snake a hand between your bodies and touch yourself, tracing nonsensical patterns against your clit, desperate to bring yourself to orgasm alongside him. “Shit, shit,” Vernon whines, hands finally moving to grip at your hips as he plants his feet and meets your body with harsh, sloppy thrusts. “This perfect fucking pussy. Fuck, you’re gonna make me come—”
“Close.” You choke on the word, fingers working your clit so quickly you’re not sure if you said it at all or if it was only in your head. Stars dot your vision as your orgasm builds at a blinding speed; as the string in your core grows more and more taut—as it exceeds its tensile strength. Heat pools in your belly, Vernon’s balls draw tighter to his body, and all that’s left to do is brace yourself for the inevitable snap.
And when it happens—
Everything goes white as the world explodes around you. You sob as your second orgasm hits, more powerful and violent than the first; as it picks you up and tosses you into the eye of the storm like you’re a ragdoll, like you’re weightless. With a loud moan, Vernon follows after you, spilling into the condom with a shout. He falls forward, body folding in on itself as your pussy clenches around him like a vice. Breathless, he swears again and again, nearly intelligible, as you milk him dry and leave his spent cock twitching from the onslaught. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, hissing when the pleasure slowly starts to border on oversensitivity, and tries to pull out. Rendered entirely boneless by your orgasm, you’re unable to do anything other than let him move you as he sees fit.
Vernon laughs softly at this. Presses a fond kiss to your forehead that almost feels out of place after what just transpired and asks, “You gonna make it?”
“Fuck off.” He laughs a little harder, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning across your sweat-slick skin. You groan into his shoulder, slowly coming back to life as the adrenaline begins to wear off. A terrible ache settles into every square inch of your body and you groan again. “Ew, why do you sound so normal right now? God, everything is sore and I feel like I was transported to another plane of existence.”
“I’m not; my fucking back is killing me. We’re officially too old to fuck like this—missionary in a bed with a proper mattress only from now on.” You scoff as you reach blindly for one of the couch pillows, muttering an oh my god, shut up as you tell him to put it behind his back. He does as you say, adjusting so he’s laying horizontally, and pulls you against him. “I’m also not… normal,” he admits after a beat.
“I know.” You lift your head enough to press your lips against the space just above his heart—where your ear had just been and you listened as it beat wildly against his ribs. You rest your chin against his chest. “No one that’s seen Shrek 2 as many times as you have is normal.”
His face contorts with offense. “Dickhead. I meant about you. Haven’t been for a long time.” Sighs when your fingertips start to trace amorphous shapes into his skin. “Feels nice.”
“You said you were on your way to a date.”
“It wasn’t anything serious.” You feel yourself frown, knowing your reluctance to take Vernon at his word is showing plain as day and that he picks up on it immediately. “I promise. Chan met someone a few weeks ago who’s way out of his league. Somehow he managed to get her to agree to a date and—you know Chan—he fucking panicked at the thought of being alone with her and said some stupid shit about it being a double-date.”
You gasp in mock surprise. “And you bailed? It’s gonna make him look bad that you no-showed.”
“Nah. This fucking idiot was gonna take her to Divino.”
You hum. “Ah. I’m assuming Gyu was bartending tonight?”
“Yup—shift ended at eleven. Even Chan is smart enough to pivot; I’m sure he was fine.”
“Mm, true. Kim Mingyu’s not a bad consolation prize,” you concede, shrieking when Vernon tickles your sides. “Wait, hold up—you’re telling me you were supposed to go on a double-date at the same swanky cocktail bar Mingyu works at because, quote-unquote, ‘the MILFs tip crazy style,’ and you were gonna wear a white tee and sweatpants?”
“Hey!” he interjects.
“Vernon, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Yo, leave me alone, I didn’t wanna go!”
“New rule: you need to wear jeans at least when you take me out.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “When?”
Yeah, ‘when,’ you say, your smile just as wide as his when you lean forward to kiss him breathless.
“You sure he’s acting like that?” Jeonghan raised a brow, lazily sipping his iced coffee.
“Yeah,” Y/N muttered, arms crossed as she leaned back in her seat. “It’s weird. Like—why now? When I’m trying so hard to move on, that’s when he decides to act like this?”
She let out a frustrated sigh, head falling against the back of the bench.
The past few weeks had felt like a dream she wasn’t sure she wanted to wake up from—or fall deeper into.
Before, it was always her waiting for him after class, her buying the banana milk, her chasing moments with him.
Now, the roles had reversed.
Seokmin had been… different.
He waited for her now. Showed up with snacks, casually sliding them into her hands as they walked together.
And the messages?
Daily.
Seokmin: morning, morning to you and morning for me too ✨
Seokmin: don’t forget to eat, okay? I know you skipped it 🫤
It was as if he suddenly realized she was slipping away—and now, he couldn’t stand it.
And then there was the Seungcheol problem.
Every time she was with Cherry, somehow—somehow—Seokmin would appear. Like magic. Or a glitch in the simulation.
“That guy pisses me off,” Seungcheol muttered one evening after Seokmin had miraculously shown up at their usual hangout spot—again.
Y/N just chuckled, resting her chin on her hand.
“He’s kinda cute, though,” she said teasingly.
Seungcheol groaned dramatically and rolled his eyes, practically melting into his chair.
“ no I know why people said that love can make people blind”
“Hey!”
.ೃ࿔☼*:･.ೃ࿔☼*:･.ೃ࿔☼*:･.ೃ࿔☼*:･.ೃ࿔☼*:･
“So, where do we start?” Seokmin asked, grinning. “Should we try that viral hamburger place? It’s near here.”
They were walking side by side, the sky soft with golden afternoon light. Ironically—or maybe fatefully—they had both shown up in white tees layered under light blue button-ups. A silent match neither of them planned, yet somehow perfectly them.
a few days ago seokmin had message her to have a bit hangout
“Want to hang out before we go to the bar with them?” Y/n is hesitant seeing Seokmin message
She was unsure but not stupid. She is for sure feeling this time that this guy is trying to win her.
“You better make it better, Lee Seokmin, cause I don’t want to get my heart broken like last time”, she mutters to herself while replied to him, agreeing to meet with him
“I’ll follow along,” Y/N said with a playful grin, “as long as you pay, Seokmin.”
He skipped a step ahead excitedly, her teasing barely making him falter. But then—he slowed, turned to glance at her with a small frown.
“Why don’t you call me that anymore?”
Y/N blinked. “Call you what?”
He pouted slightly. “Minminie~. You used to call me that all the time. But now… nothing. Yet you’re out here calling that dude Cherry like it’s no big deal.”
Y/N paused, lips parting.
“Well… it was to avoid misunderstandings. People thought we were a thing because I was so—um—extra with you,” she trailed off, rubbing her neck awkwardly.
Seokmin’s brows knit slightly, but he didn’t back off.
“Well, calling him Cherry could cause misunderstandings too, couldn’t it?”
Y/N opened her mouth, closed it again. Technically, he wasn’t wrong.
“I call you Y/Nnie~,” he added, a small smile tugging at his lips. “So call me the same, too.”
Y/N looked at him for a second—his eyes were hopeful, just a bit sheepish, and somehow annoyingly adorable.
She let out a breath and surrendered.
“Alright, alright. Minnie~”
His smile immediately brightened, boyish and pure.
Y/N, meanwhile, mentally facepalmed.
Sorry, Jeonghan… I had to break that one rule. It’s hard to resist this guy.
Night had fallen, and the soft neon lights of the bar buzzed quietly against the hum of voices inside. It was their usual hangout spot—warm, a little loud, and full of laughter. Y/N and Seokmin walked in together, side by side, the buzz of their earlier outing still lingering between them.
As the door swung open, they were greeted by cheers and shouts from their group already seated inside.
“Woo! Seokmin and Y/N arrived together? What is this~?” one of their friends teased, loud enough to draw attention.
Heads turned. Laughter bubbled. And from the end of the long table—Seungcheol looked up.
He was seated beside Jeonghan, a few girls chatting near him, though he didn’t seem particularly interested. But the moment he heard their names together, his gaze sharpened—locked directly on the two walking in.
Seokmin chuckled and raised his hand awkwardly. “We just got back from checking out that burger place—came straight here after.”
He turned to Y/N with a smile, already reaching out to guide her.
“Come on, Y/N, let’s sit—”
“Y/N! Over here!” Seungcheol’s voice cut in smoothly.
He waved from his seat, already scooting over to make space. Jeonghan grinned beside him, silently observing it all unfold like a drama.
Y/N turned to Seokmin briefly, offering him a soft smile and a light touch on the arm.
“I’ll go sit with them, you can sit with your friends, yeah?”
Before he could even process a reply, she had already made her way to Seungcheol’s side.
Seokmin stood there, arm half-extended, smile frozen.
Disbelief twisted in his chest.
And then—
He looked up and saw Seungcheol lifting his glass toward him, that signature smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
A subtle challenge.
The fume in Seokmin’s chest ignited just a little more.
.ೃ࿔☼*:･.ೃ࿔☼*:･.ೃ࿔☼*:･.ೃ࿔☼*:･.ೃ࿔☼*:･
The night had been full of laughter, loud games, and shared stories that echoed through the bar like familiar songs. Y/N was glowing, cheeks pink from the drinks and the energy of the group. She had let herself loosen up, let herself laugh a little louder—and almost drink a little too much.
“Alright, that’s enough.” Jeonghan gently pried the shot glass from her fingers, brows raised.
“Huh?” Y/N blinked at him, tipsy and confused.
“Stop it, girl. Go fix yourself. Seungcheol will send you home,” he said firmly.
She blinked again, then turned to Seungcheol, who raised a brow, halfway through a sip of his drink.
“Seriously?” she asked, though her body was already leaning against the table, tired from the long day.
“Seriously,” Jeonghan nodded, patting her shoulder. “Go wash up before you fall asleep here.”
Y/N groaned but gave in, wobbling slightly as she stood. “Fine, fine…”
She turned to Seungcheol and handed him her small purse.
“Hold my bag for me?”
He stood up casually and gave a dramatic bow.
“As you wish, my lady~”
She giggled and wandered off toward the restroom.
Seungcheol chuckled to himself, sitting back down, the bag resting in his lap as he scrolled through his phone.
But then—he felt it.
A shift in the air.
A presence stepping up in front of him, heavy with unsaid words and something a little darker.
Seungcheol looked up from his screen.
Seokmin.
His expression unreadable. Jaw slightly tight. Eyes fixed on him, sharp and quiet.
“Yes?” Seungcheol asked, calm and composed. His voice held no edge, but his eyes said he was ready—ready for whatever this was.
Seokmin stood in front of him, fists clenched at his sides, no longer trying to mask the frustration.
“I’m not gonna sugarcoat this. And I think you already know what I’m about to say.”
Seungcheol leaned back slightly, playing it cool. “Hmm? Not sure I follow.”
“Cut the act,” Seokmin snapped, his voice low but firm. “Do you have feelings for Y/N?”
Seungcheol’s eyes flickered—just for a second—but his tone didn’t waver.
“I don’t think I’m obligated to answer that.”
Seokmin scoffed lightly, shaking his head. “Well, I’ll go first then.”
He looked him dead in the eyes.
“I like her. And I’m not just realising it now. I’ve liked her for a long time. But I messed up. I took too long to figure it out… and now she’s closer to you.”
Seungcheol didn’t flinch. Just sat there, Y/N’s bag still in his lap like a symbol of where things stood.
“I don’t know what the hell happened..” Seokmin continued, voice raw now. “But I’m not just going to stand back and let you take her.”
The words hung between them, heavy, charged.
A beat passed.
“She’s not a prize to be taken, Seokmin.” Seungcheol finally spoke, calmly, but without his usual smirk.
Another pause, he takes the last sip of his drink, then his eyes dart to Seokmin’s.
“Seungcheol…” she whispered. He walked a little closer when he saw that she had recognised him.
“Such a coincidence to run into you here,” he said casually. Y/N forced an awkward smile.
“Yeah… It’s been a while since I last saw you.”
“Well… yeah.” Her eyes kept drifting to the envelope swinging lightly in his hand. She couldn’t take it anymore. “Seungcheol… don’t tell me you already read that,” she asked cautiously.
“Oh, this?” he said, lifting the envelope slightly. He stared at it for a moment before slowly nodding. Y/N let out a long sigh. ‘Man… my day just keeps getting better,’ she cursed internally.
“I actually have a lot of questions,” he said, his lips curling into a familiar smirk.
It was during those days, when I had just become a freshman on a brand-new campus. Everything felt unfamiliar—new people, new experiences, a completely different environment. People always said that university would give you memories you’d never experience again once you stepped into the working world. Maybe that’s why I was so determined to make my university life the best it could be.
I joined everything—clubs, events, activities. If it existed, I was probably there. It was exciting, overwhelming, and honestly, a little chaotic. But through all that, I found friends and built a social circle. Most of them were freshmen like me, just as eager and lost.
Then, something funny started happening.
After a few semesters, my friends slowly began to disappear. Not completely—but they became… unavailable. Harder to reach.
The reason? Because of goddamn boyfriends.
But that is also how my story with Seungcheol began on a day that wasn’t supposed to go wrong.
3rd POV
“Again?”
Y/N stared at her phone, disappointment clear on her face. She had just called what she considered her last available friend—but even she wasn’t free.
“I’m so sorry, honey. I promise I’ll make it up to you!” the voice on the other end said quickly before hanging up. Y/N sighed, staring at her reflection in the mirror. “Stupid Jeongsin and her boyfriend,” she muttered under her breath.
She was already halfway done getting ready. For a moment, she considered just wiping everything off and staying home. But the thought annoyed her even more. Why should her whole day be ruined just because everyone else was busy? “No,” she said softly to herself, standing up straighter. “I’m not wasting this.”
That was how she ended up at a bar later that night.
The atmosphere was dim, filled with low chatter and the occasional clink of glasses. It wasn’t too crowded. She sat at the counter, ordering whatever the bartender recommended. Honestly, she had no idea what she was drinking at that point. Each glass tasted different, but the warmth spreading through her chest felt the same.
The bartender would occasionally strike up small conversations, and she replied politely, though her mind drifted elsewhere. Then, she felt it: a presence.
Someone had taken the seat beside her. She glanced sideways. There was a man. He was… good-looking. Sharp features, well-dressed, looked slightly older than her. She didn’t realise her glance had turned into full-on staring until he spoke.
“Take a picture, please,” he said casually, still not making eye contact. “I get shy when someone stares that directly.” Her eyes widened, and she immediately looked away, her face flushing.
“I’m so sorry! That was really impolite of me,” she said quickly. He chuckled softly, finally turning his stool toward her. “Don’t be so formal,” he replied. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
And just like that, the conversation started. It was easy when talking with him. They talked about random things at first, then deeper topics, then back to nonsense again. Time slipped by without either of them noticing. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the loneliness. Or maybe it was just one of those rare moments where two strangers clicked too naturally.
Whatever it was, their emotions blurred together with the haze of the night. And by the time the world slowed down around them, they found themselves somewhere else in each other’s arms. None of them planned it to happen. But they just let their desire take over them, just for the night.
Y/n thought its going to end just like that. But oh boy, she was wrong. As she joined her new club in her university, there she saw him
He was standing there in his glory. With a file in his hand and people surrounding him. He seemed to be checking in with something with the team.
She dug around with the members in the club; well… he is the president of that club. And that was the start of how she got into a relationship. A conversation that started small, awkward, yet both of them wanted to keep going, until late-night study together.
The conversation started small. Simple things. What department they were in. What year were they studying. Seungcheol was confident in a way that felt effortless. There was a mischievous side to him too, something playful hidden under his calm exterior.
At some point, even y/n didn’t know what this dynamic was. They frequently met; even the club members were already teasing
Then it happened
Y/n pov
He kissed me again. Not like the night they first met. Yes, they were drunk, but this time Seungcheol didn’t rush. Then he said it.
“Want to be my girlfriend?” And all remember was kissing him back.
They sat at the nearest coffee shop. Both went quiet and sipped their drinks. Seungcheol eye still on her despite seeing how she is squirming in discomfort or shyness. He let out a bit of a chuckle, then spoke
“It’s funny how it’s been a long time since we met, and all you can think is sending letters?”
“It was not-” she let out a long sigh. Seungcheol raised his eyebrows in question and waited for her to continue
“It was not meant to be in your hands. I wrote that just to let out my feelings and seal it. I dont know what magic shit happened that it accidentally sent to you”
“So you are not planning to tell me this shit and just keep it in”
“Seungcheol I-”
He opened the letter and read it out loud “ I never loved like this. I fall for you more and more. How am I supposed to let you go, but you are almost there, reaching your dream goals”
She tried to snatch the letter before Seungcheol pulled his hand back out of her reach and gave her a warning look. She gazed him back hard
“And you know I can literally drop everything off and be with you”
“You're being ridiculous”
“So my decision is ridiculous to you?”
“You're twisting my words!” She raised her voice. Making the people around look at them.
Being with him never had a day that was not fun and exciting. Every day, he would pamper her with affection. Being a couple, of course, there will be ups and downs. They fought, they made up, they laughed, they cried. But the thing that she knew made their relationship stronger was communicating, which she is not good at. Seungcheol will always be the one who points out what is wrong and what needs to be done, which makes her feel abit intimidating. He knew that, so he would make it as soft as possible; he wouldn’t want her to be uncomfortable in some kind of way
“Look babe, you can’t just expect me to understand what’s in your mind if you didn’t tell me? Please… ” he grabbed her hand gently. She tried to pry her hands from him, but he holds it firmly; now all she did was avoid his gaze.
Seungcheol let out a sigh. He kissed her forehead softly to signal to her that he was not mad, using his finger to lift her chin up. Y/n didn’t resist and slowly brought her gaze towards his.
“I love you y/n, but please let me know what you're feeling here” He pointed to her chest “I’m not a mind reader, but I do know that if you tell me, I will try my best to fulfil it”
Her eyes brimmed with tears; she could hear how sincere his words were, how his eyes were pouting, begging for her. How desperate this man is to be with her, who brings nothing but headache to him. That’s what her thoughts
tried to hide; she hugged him, snuggling close to him, which made him hug her back. “I’m sorry seungcheol ah im just an insecure bi*th”, he hissed and poked her waist. She yelped a bit
“Firstly your not a bit*th; whoever said that needs to be arrested. And secondly, stop calling me with my government name,” he stroked her head and rested his chin on it.
“Did you hear?” One of the girl in their club started.
“What?”
“Seungcheol was about to go to that academy for his last year, but he refused” Y/n was about to enter the room, but hearing Seungcheol's name made her pause and snoop behind the door.
“Well, understandable; his love life is here doing LDR is hard. I also heard the place was too far from here,” one of them replied. Hearing that made her frown. She had never heard any of this from him. Being a detective really takes sweat and tears, and she knew how hard Seungcheol was studying for this.
“It’s a shame tho, my bro went there and it’s one of the places that are hard to enter”
“You need to go. What were you thinking!” Y/n stormed into his bedroom. Seungcheol followed behind, heads down. He knew he shouldn’t tell her for this reason. She’s going to get worried, and it will get to her head
“Y/n baby, I’m fine here. That academy what they do there, they do it too here, the one I’m going to apply to” y/n shake her head and buried her face in her palm.
“You work so hard, Seungcheol… dont sacrifice just because you want to be with me dont be ridiculous”
“You think my decision to be with you here is ridiculous?” You can hear how hurt he is through his voice. Looking at his girlfriend now avoiding him makes him become lost. He tried to get close, but the more he took a step, the more she took a step back. “Then what do you want me to do, love…”
“Let’s go our separate ways, Seungcheol ah. I think that is the best for us”
“Baby no-” he tried again
“What you did really turned me off…you being too much. Stop doing things for me; you make me feel burdened. I can’t handle it i cant handle you anymore” She could see how he flinch at her words. With that, y/n grabbed her coat and went out ignore his calling as it fade away.
“Did you ever regret leaving me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Y/N heard him. She turned to look at Seungcheol, taking in how different he seemed from the last time she had seen him. He was more built now, his appearance cleaner and more refined, with a sharper jawline that somehow made him look even more intimidating.
Then, her eyes fell on the badge in his hand. The same badge he used to talk about over and over again when they were together. Back then, it had been nothing more than a dream—a goal he was determined to achieve. Now, it was right there in his grasp.
He had made it.
Y/N’s gaze lingered on the badge for a moment before returning to him. A small, almost bitter smile tugged at her lips. “No,” she finally answered softly. “I didn’t regret it.”
Seungcheol’s expression fell, his eyes searching hers. “But I do regret that my action had caused you…”
Seungcheol scoffed. “Just so you know…”
He placed his badge on the table between them, letting it sit there for a moment before looking back at her. “I felt no satisfaction when I got this.” His voice was calm, but there was something bitter underneath it.
“At my ceremony, I don’t think I smiled genuinely even once. I never faked a smile in my whole life, but every picture from that day…” He paused, his eyes dropping to the badge. “They’re all filled with it. Every smile in my album feels fake.”
“I want to hate you, y/n. I really do, but at the same time I know you want the best of me even though it will make you hurt, makes me hurt”, he tapped his chest right on top of his heart.
“Seungcheol, I-” he raised his hand. Y/n stopped
“This time you listen to me, y/n” He softened his voice. He put her letter on the table “Everything that you wrote here…” he pointed to the paper “I have to admit it softened my heart. Cried actually. I dont know if it's because of the words or because it is you. Knowing you, I already expected you would not say anything in your mind, but getting to read this, getting a glimpse of what you had kept inside. what’s in there somehow makes me want to make this journey worth it,” he let out a big sigh.
Y/n kept her head down; all of the scenarios that had happened flashed through her eyes.
Dear Seungcheol,
I don’t know why I’m writing this when I have no intention of ever letting you read it.
Maybe because there are too many things I never said to you. Things I was too afraid to say out loud, so I’ll leave them here instead. On paper, where they can’t hurt you.
I still love you.
There. I said it.
What was said to you was disgusting. I know. I wish I could rip out my tongue and burn it.
You were always so sure of yourself. You knew what you wanted, where you wanted to go, and how hard you were willing to work for it. I watched you study until you could barely keep your eyes open. I watched you talk about that academy like it was something far beyond a dream.
And then you chose to stay. For me.
I was happy when I heard you were going to stay, God. I was so happy. But that happiness scared me more than anything. Because what if one day you looked at me and realised that you gave up something important just to stay by my side?
What if you resented me? What if you woke up years later and wondered what your life could have been if you had chosen yourself instead of me? I couldn't bear the thought of becoming the reason you regretted your life.
So I decided for you. I told myself that letting you go was love. That if I really loved you, I had to give you the chance to chase everything you wanted without having to worry about me.
I was scared.
I was scared that you would choose me and lose something you could never get back.
I was scared that I would become a burden. And, selfishly, I was scared that one day you would realise I wasn't worth the sacrifice.
I know you always told me to talk to you. I know. I'm sorry. I wish I had listened. I wish I had told you that every time you talked about your future, I was proud of you. That every time you stayed up late studying, I wanted nothing more than to hold you and tell you how amazing you were.
Instead, I pushed you away. I made you believe I didn't want you. I made you believe that leaving was easy for me.
It wasn’t. It still isn't.
There are days when I wonder what we would be like now if I had just been brave enough to say, “I'm scared, but I still want you.” Maybe we would've fought. Maybe we would've struggled with the distance. Maybe things would've fallen apart anyway.
But at least it would've been our choice.
I miss you, Seungcheol.
I miss your stupid jokes. I miss the way you called me “babe” when you knew it made me blush. I miss how you would hold my hand by saying your hands are cold when it’s summer. I miss the way you always noticed when something was wrong with me, even when I insisted I was fine.
And I hate that I still remember all of it. I hate that after all this time, a part of me still waits for you. But more than anything, I hope you achieved everything you wanted.
I hope you stood there at that ceremony and felt proud of yourself. I hope you looked at that badge and thought, “I made it.”
Even if I wasn't there to see it.
Even if I wasn't beside you.
I want to believe that leaving you gave you the life you deserved. But if I'm being honest with myself… A part of me wishes you had been selfish. I wish you had fought harder. I wish you had told me that I was being stupid and that you wanted me anyway. I wish I had been brave enough to believe you.
I'm sorry, Seungcheol.
I'm sorry I loved you in a way that made me leave.
And I'm sorry that even after all these years…
I still haven't learned how to stop loving you.
— Y/N
He stared at her, quietly taking in the woman sitting in front of him—the same girl who had once turned his life upside down and taken him through every possible emotion.
“Detective Seungcheol. Well, officer could work too,” he tried to lighten the mood. Y/N let out a bitter chuckle before rolling her eyes.
“Alright, Officer Seungcheo—”
“Nahhh, not the government name.”
“Really, Cheol?” He chuckled and took a sip of his coffee.
“That’s more like it.” There was a sound of victory in his voice, making Y/N roll her eyes.
“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take this.” She reached for the letter on the table, but his hand was faster, snatching it out of her reach.
“Oh, COME ON?!” she whined. He looked at her, amused, before replying, “It’s mine now. Why do you want to take it?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.
“It wasn’t supposed to be sent to you. I don’t know how it got to your doorstep, but I wrote that with no intention of sending it.”
“Wow. That hurts. So, if this hadn’t been sent by accident, I wouldn’t have known your real feelings then?” Y/N looked at him with a deadpan expression, making him raise his hands in surrender. “You were saying?”
“As I was saying, it wasn’t supposed to be in your hands—or anyone else’s. I also don’t know what caused it to be sent. Even the other letter got sent awa—”
“So you have other people you wrote love letters to?!”
“Seungcheol!” she whined.
“Alright, alright. Jesus…”
He took a deep breath, trying to process everything she had just told him. “So, all your love letters…” He made air quotes with his fingers. “They got sent to people, but you’re telling me you weren’t the one who sent them?”
Y/N nodded vigorously. “I don’t know how! But I swear, I didn’t send them. It’s like—some mystical shit happened.” Seungcheol stared at her for a moment, his expression slowly turning into one of complete disbelief.
“What nonsense are you spouting?”
“I’m serious!”
He held up a hand, trying to suppress his amusement. “Go on, then. Explain.” And so, Y/N told him everything from the beginning.
She told him about the vintage shop she had visited, the strange box she had bought there, and everything that had happened since—the letters mysteriously finding their way to the people she had written them for, all without her ever sending them herself. She even told him about the day she met Hoshi and how another one of the letters had somehow ended up in his hands. Seungcheol listened quietly throughout her entire explanation. For once, he didn't interrupt with another stupid joke. He leaned back in his seat, his fingers tapping lightly against the coffee cup as he tried to piece everything together.
When she finally finished, he was silent for a few seconds. “You know…” he began slowly, his brows furrowing as he looked at her. “That sounds exactly like something Jeonghan would tell me when he’s drunk.”
Y/N frowned. “What?”
“He once told me about some weird thing he bought from a shop. Said some even weirder shit started happening afterwards.” He shrugged. “I didn't think much of it because, well…”
“It doesnt make any sense?”
“Exactly.” Y/N's frown deepened. But then, a thought crossed her mind.
Jeonghan.
If he had experienced something similar, then maybe—just maybe—he knew something about the box. “Can you try asking him?”
Seungcheol's eyebrow lifted. “Can I?”
“Yes.”
“What would I get if I did?”
Y/N stared at him. “You're seriously asking for a reward?” Seungcheol shrugged his shoulders
“I'm a detective. I don't work for free.”
Y/N huffed and sank back into her seat, racking her brain for something anything that could convince him. After a few seconds, she looked at him sheepishly
“Good deeds?” Seungcheol stared at her.
“That's your offer?”
“Yep.” He let out a laugh, shaking his head.
“You're terrible at negotiations.”
“Then don't do it.”
“Alright, alright.” He leaned back with a grin. “I'll ask him.” Y/N blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah.”She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
“Why?”
“Because now I'm curious too.” For a moment, they looked at each other.
Then Seungcheol pointed at her.
“As I said, not for free…” he took out his phone and dialled his friend’s number. Y/N rolled her eyes. “Deal… petty detective”, she muttered, whispering.
“Heard that!” He was about to say something back, but the voice on the other line stopped him.
“Officer DADDU, what’s bringing you to call me? Am I under arrest?”
Wonwoo was watching from across the street, staring hard before someone called him
“I already loaded the remaining inside” Wonwoo nodded and signed the board given by the person he gave last glance toward both of them, then continued to make his way inside the store.
Neither of them said much along the way. The silence wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. It was strange, like both of them were quietly acknowledging that the past was the past, and neither quite knew what to do with whatever was left between them.
When they finally reached her car, Y/N turned toward him. “Well… I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah.” Seungcheol scratched the back of his neck, his eyes briefly wandering toward her car before returning to her. For some reason, he didn’t want the day to end just like this. But who is he to stop her? They are not what they used to be.
“You got his number, right?” Y/N let out a small chuckle. “You asked me that a few minutes ago…”
Seungcheol blinked, then looked away. “Right… I did.”
A brief silence followed. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, seemingly debating whether he should say what was on his mind. “What about mine?”
Y/N paused. Her fingers, which had been reaching for her car keys, stopped mid-motion. She looked back at him.
“Your… number?”
“Yeah.” Seungcheol shrugged, trying his best to make it sound like it was no big deal. “You might need to contact me if you find out anything about the letters.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “That's your excuse?”
“It's a pretty good one.” She stared at him for a moment before a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
“Sure, Detective.” They exchanged their numbers, making Seungcheol feel a bit giddy on the inside, but he coughed it out.
“See you when I see you, Seungcheol” She smiled before entering her car and driving away.
“Yeah.. hope it won’t be another few years to see you, love..”
need more of loser!cheol please, imagine he making you squirt for the first time, the biggest need made what your ex boyfriends and one night stands never did, so fucking delicious
LMAO, so I may have taken an inch and run a mile- but I have a little bit of loser! Cheol, I definitely have squirting, and it may have turned out to be 7.1k+ words 😅
I appreciate your patience, and I thank you for enjoying my random loser! Cheol content I've created. I hope to write more of him, heh 😏
Synopsis: When you find yourself single after two years, your friends tell you the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. You decide to take that advice, but will it just be that?
Warnings: mdni, 18+, f! reader, reader's ex cheated, verkwan, bff! Seungkwan, some humor, riding, sweetheart! DK, smut, mentions of multiple orgasms (f. rec), jock! Mingyu, oral (both m & f. rec), praise, cock drunk! reader, dumbification (squint you'll find it), Seungcheol big, loser!Cheol (brief mention), neighbor! Seungcheol, harbored feelings (Cheol), condoms for everyone, fingering, toys, masturbation (f. attempted), toy play, the walls are thin, squirting, size difference, Jun mentioned! etc
Genre: Smut, mdni. 18+
Pairings: DK x reader, Mingyu x reader, and Seungcheol x reader (all separate)
WC: 7.1K+
[requested] - heh unedited, oops
[BE VERY AWARE, SMUT BELOW THE 'KEEP READING' TAG]
This was supposed to be a stupid rebound to get over your ex.
Your friends had said this was the way to get over someone who didn't deserve to be with you anyway, and it was honestly a blessing in disguise to see that text pop up on his phone. A simple, "can't wait to see you tonight xoxo." That was all it took for you to realize you had wasted two years with a man who wouldn't even eat you out.
Pathetic. Him, and you for staying for so long when you knew your heart wasn't in it. You don't even know why you really stayed; maybe just the familiar comfort of knowing he was there, that you settled for thinking that this was all you could have.
You felt nothing when your ex tried to plead with you that "it was not what it looks like!" as you pointed at your front door. You simply rolled your eyes at his pout and threatened to throw all of his belongings out on the street if he didn't go. You really didn't play around, and when you threw the first box of stuff out, he chased after it as you slammed the door behind him, locking it right after.
That was three weeks ago.
Three weeks of friends telling you, "You deserve better" and "To get over him, you need to get under someone else." But you never really thought you were a one-night stand type of person.
"No, you don't get it. One-night stands are the best!" Seungkwan declares while adding too much sugar to his iced americano. Your eyes flicker to his boyfriend, who's sitting next to him, and Vernon doesn't even bat an eye while his arm stays wrapped securely around Boo's waist. "No attachments, no mess or awkward small talk. You get what you're after, they get to nut, and then they lock the door on their way out to whatever Uber or taxi that waits to take them home. You probably don't even need to remember their first name!"
At that, your eyebrows raise even higher, and the incredulous snort you let out makes your eyes roll sarcastically. "Why does this feel like you're about to become my pimp?"
Seungkwan's eyes sparkle as his cheeks tint with color, and you're realizing every quickly that your friend was insane.
The first person Seungkwan pushes to you is someone from his marketing class. Dokyeom, or DK for short, is a ray of sunshine and flowers. Seungkwan tells you this would be considered you "dipping your toes in the water to feel the temperature before diving in", and you're briefly wondering if he's determined to make you a whore as he flips his phone to you so you can see a picture of DK that he sneakily took last week.
He ignores your narrowed eyes with a little wave of his hands. "Everyone deserves a 'ho phase.' Now be nice, DK's my partner until the end of the quarter, and he's actually a sweetheart."
Seungkwan is annoyingly right about DK. He's a sweetheart by default who arrives at your apartment door right at 7 pm on the dot. He's got a beautiful smile and a nervous shake in his hands when he hands you a bouquet with a little, "This is for you." He's the perfect gentleman who opens every door for you as you two go on a date at this cute ice cream shop, and he actually asks you questions about yourself and listens. You're not nervous the entire time you spend with him, and you're pretty sure that's why you do what Seungkwan says and "dip your toes in the water." Your best friend is insane.
When DK walks you back to your apartment door, you don't allow yourself to hesitate when asking him if he would like to join you for a nightcap. Your hand grabs his while leading him inside your apartment, and it's you who ends up making the first move to kiss.
You don't know when you last kissed someone who wasn't your ex, and the feeling is foreign but refreshing. Dokyeom's hands settle on your hips, and your lips deepen the kiss until you hear a little hitch in his breath. The sound alone builds a soft heat in your lower stomach, and you realize belatedly that you would like to hear it again.
Your ex was quiet, boring, and vanilla when it came to sex. There was hardly any foreplay unless it was you giving him head, and it was like it was a chore that ended once he got to nut - so when you feel Dokyeom shiver as your fingers twist in his hair, you're feeling pleasantly warm all over. This, this is what you were missing.
Both of you barely separate from the kiss as you two stumble backwards to your living room, and you're already eagerly pawing at his clothes while your tongue licks over his, determined to hear what other noises he can make for you. You can barely register that the noises were words that he was saying until you're chasing after his lips when he pulls back a little to catch his breath. "Are you sure?"
Fuck, Dokyeom is such a sweetheart, and you're only able to nod in response before pushing him back onto your couch as you straddle his lap shortly after. "Yeah, m'sure." You murmur, and your lips find his again while his hardening cock presses up against your panty-covered pussy just right.
You take your time just to kiss him while rolling your hips forward, rocking against his hard cock, until your mind is dizzy and Dokyeom's eyes are swirling with need. It doesn't take long before he's helping you shove his jeans down low enough to free his aching cock, and only then do you sit back to take a moment.
Dokyeom looks so pretty with disheveled hair, glossy eyes, and kiss-bitten lips. His cock is long and flushed at the tip, and even though it doesn't have a lot of girth, your cunt still drools at the prospect of it filling you in a few minutes.
"Do you have-" Your hand is reaching for his cock before you can finish your sentence, and when your fingers wrap around his shaft, stroking him from the base to the tip, Dokyeom lets out a small hiccuped whine from the back of his throat. His head lolls back, and his hooded eyes stare up at you dizzily before he understands what you're asking.
"Oh! Yeah, let me uh," he's fumbling to reach into his front pocket, his cheeks flushed as he pulls his wallet out and slips out a shiny foil wrapper. He opens it with ease, taking the condom out just as you swipe your thumb over his tip, and the action nearly makes him drop the rubber. When he finally rolls it down his length with a sheepish smile, your pussy throbs with anticipation.
With one hand, Dokyeom holds your waist as his other hand guides his cock to your entrance; his eyebrows are pinched in concentration as you pull your panties to the side, and when you lower yourself until the tip of his cock breaches past your first set of gummy rings, you think: finally.
The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, and even though technically Dokyeom's actually the one under you, you feel like this is your first step in moving forward. Your gummy walls pulsate, sucking Dokyeom's cock deeper inside, and you watch with fascination as his jaw drops in pleasure. The moment your ass meets his thighs, and the tip of his cock kisses the back of your cunt in greeting, you're realizing just how lame your ex was. You don't even give Dokyeom a chance to grab your waist to anchor himself before you're leaning up on your knees and then sliding back down on his cock with a breathy moan.
Your hands rest on his chest, pushing him further back onto your couch, and you take over control, setting a pace that makes you squeeze around his shaft each time you take him to the hilt. At this point, if you're being honest, you're taking what you want and riding Dokyeom with a mean swirl to your hips, chasing after something you don't know. The feelings you had ignored in favor of saying "you're fine" and "didn't care that you wasted two years on someone" come to the surface, ugly and gnawing at your chest, and you use the negative emotions to bounce faster, your eyes closing to fight back the heat behind your eyelids.
You don't want to think about it; you don't want to think.
Instead, you focus on the way Dokyeom's groaning underneath you, the way his thighs flex under your ass, and the way his fingers dig into your waist to help your movements. Your thighs burn with exertion, but your pace never falters because you can feel him twitching inside you, and you know he's close, and it makes you double your efforts.
You figure the moment he cums, you can give him a sweet kiss in thanks, send him on his way, and finish yourself off alone with your vibrator. That's usually how you had to do it with your ex, and so old habits die hard for you as you swirl your hips, nudging Dokyeom closer to the edge with needy moans and praise.
But what you forget is that Dokyeom's not your ex. That this is a new era for you, and that moment comes to you when Dokyeom moves one of his hands off your waist to press his thumb to your sensitive clit.
Your eyes fly open and catch his with surprise as he gives you a fucked-out smile in response. He presses more firmly into your bundle of nerves as your hips stutter, and when he starts stroking the puffy nub at a fast pace, you choke on your cry as your knees tighten around his hips. "That's it, cum for me. Wanna feel you fall apart."
You never thought hearing those words would trigger you, but it does, and it should be embarrassing that you're shocked when you cum just like he asks. You don't have time to warn him as your hips buck wildly, and your fingers dig into his shoulders as he takes over for you. He never lets up, bouncing you on his lap as he rubs your clit. He makes you tremble, fucking you through your high, before he finds his orgasm once you slump into him.
He keeps you seated on his lap, holding you close while his balls twitch against your ass. He spills into the condom with a low groan, and you're kissing him again sloppily. You kiss him in thanks, still in shock as something cracks open in your chest. And Seungkwan is again, annoyingly right, because not even an hour later, you feel a little lighter, a little happier as you wave goodbye to DK. You don't feel guilty as you watch him hop into his taxi to go home, and you're already excited to be in your single era as you crawl into bed satisfied, ready to take back the light you didn't know was dimmed until now.
You don't tell Seungkwan he's right about rebounds. You also don't tell him you saved Dokyeom's number in your phone in case of emergencies. You know one-night stands are usually just for one night, but you've also never orgasmed on a cock that wasn't a dildo, so you figure if desperate times come, at least you had someone to ring for a booty call.
"You're really not going to tell me anything?" Seungkwan scoffs as you sit cross-legged on the floor of his apartment. You're eyeing the seven letters in front of you, ignoring Seungkwan's pout as you try to think of the next word you want to spell out on the Scrabble board sitting on the coffee table.
You, him, and Vernon are in the first round of Scrabble, and you're currently winning. "You're just trying to distract me; it's not my fault you're in last place."
Boo pouts again and looks to his boyfriend for comfort, but Vernon nods in agreement with you, making Seungkwan grumble, sulking. "I tried asking DK, but he wouldn't say anything. Something about not kissing and telling." Seungkwan's eyes narrow on you, assessing as you put down letters to spell joker, and Vernon dutifully writes on a notepad how many points you tallied from it. "So, I know you at least kissed him, but how am I supposed to be a good friend if you don't give me anything to go off of?"
Vernon adds to a word already on the board, and suddenly flap turned into flapjack.
Seungkwan lets out an exasperated sigh and throws down his letter carelessly - he knows he's going to lose against you or his boyfriend, so he uses the 'k' vertically to spell kite. "Can you at least tell me you're still open to jump back into the dating pool?"
At this, you look at Seungkwan and nod your head. It's a simple confirmation, but it gets your friend from slumping forward to sitting up straight again. He claps his hands in triumph, already having ten different people flash across his mind before Vernon speaks up.
"I know a guy, really great, if you're interested."
He doesn't say it needs to be a hookup, just if you want a nice date; he knows a guy, and again, you wonder if your friends think you have no game.
The guy Vernon knows happens to be one of the most popular guys on campus.
Mingyu was the golden boy; he got along with everyone, students, staff- he was a sweetheart. He volunteered in his free time, was top ten in his classes, and was part of the rugby team. In all purposes and tenses, he was perfect.
He was also a walking contradiction.
Mingyu was a big man, buff with muscles, lethal with charming looks, and flinching with a sheepish grin as he dropped the spoon he was holding accidentally into your kitchen sink. If anyone told you that Mingyu would be in your kitchen on a Friday night, wearing your pink apron, and making you cupcakes, you would have laughed in their face - but here you were.
You sat on the barstool at the kitchen counter, watching with a raised eyebrow as Mingyu used your kitchen like he'd been here for years. You had figured when he texted you earlier in the week asking you out, he'd take you to a frat party or invite you to a game, but you were pleasantly surprised that he'd kept it so intimate.
"Are you sure I can't help?" You asked, and Mingyu flashed you a smile, shaking his head.
"No, they're almost done. About fifteen minutes to cool, and then we need to add frosting." You watch as Mingyu takes off the pink apron, hanging it up where he found it before he pulls you closer to him by your chair. The action makes your head a little foggy, and you blink up at Mingyu to clear your thoughts as he leans his hip against the counter. "Did I tell you you're beautiful?" He pairs the compliment with a brush of his hand over your thigh, and you can't help but wonder when the last time you heard a compliment like that was. It feels good, and you can feel your fingers tighten on the armrest of your chair.
"Mm, and does that line work on everyone you try it on?" You tease. You're happy when Mingyu gives you a playful smile, rolling his eyes, but he doesn't move his hand off your thigh, warming it with a stroke of his fingers instead.
"You tell me." Those three little words make you remember the fun of flirting, and you wonder what Vernon told Mingyu about you - if Mingyu knows there are no expectations, that you're figuring everything out on a whim.
Speaking of a whim - your eyes flicker down to Mingyu's lips; you think about your ex, about DK, and then you're thinking fuck it, and you pull Mingyu in by his shirt. When Mingyu's lips crash into yours, he doesn't hesitate to deepen the kiss. His tongue rolls over your bottom lip, coaxing you to melt into him with a low groan.
The cupcakes are completely forgotten the moment Mingyu lifts you with ease, and you're moaning at the strength he has to pick you up like it's nothing. He sets you on top of your kitchen counter, taking his place between your legs, and works a trail of kisses down your neck just as he pulls your ass onto the edge of the countertop so you can feel his cock straining in his jeans for you.
The feeling of his denim jeans rubbing against you has you gasping with flushed cheeks, and you don't think you could get more turned on until he's sinking onto his knees. The big 6"2 man dares to flip your skirt up, his mouth panting over your soaked panties like you were actually the dessert for tonight, and you can't help but open your legs a little wider to give him better access. You need this, and before you can give yourself a chance to overthink it, you help Mingyu slide your panties down your legs, exposing your weeping cunt to him.
Mingyu groans like you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen, and your legs shake a little as he places a kiss on your inner knee. He uses his large hands to hook your legs over his shoulders, and before he can get any closer, your nerves win over, and you stutter out a "you don't have to-" before you can stop yourself.
Fuck your ex. You cringe as the words settle over you both, and you catch Mingyu blink in confusion for a moment while his mouth is mere inches from where you want it most. Barely a minute passes before Mingyu lets out a soft laugh, his smile dazzling as he looks up at you. The tiled floor of your kitchen bites into his knees, but his grip on your thighs only gets tighter as he gives you a look. "Baby, I've wanted to since the minute Vernon gave me your number."
That's all the warning he gives you before his tongue laps up your sodden slit, gathering all your sweet slick on his taste buds and making both you and him moan in unison. You had forgotten how good it felt to be eaten out, and Mingyu drinks you like you're water, like he can't get enough, and you're left scrambling to hold onto anything you can as he shakes his head between your thighs, trying to reach deeper.
One of your hands clutches onto the back of his head, and the other holds onto the countertop as your mouth falls open. You can feel every suck, slurp, and lick of his tongue, and your eyes roll back when his nose drags over your clit at the same time.
Unabashedly, he pulls every moan out of you like you don't have a volume control, and it's dirty how it mixes with the obscenely wet noises his mouth makes when making out with your cunt. You don't get time to feel bad for your neighbors, the poor thin walls of your apartment doing absolutely nothing to muffle your noises, before you're bucking your hips and crying out as you orgasm.
Mingyu is amazing at letting you ride it out, letting you hold his head still as you roll your hips until you're sensitive to the touch, and then you're hazily kissing him back when he stands back up with a satisfied grin. You can taste yourself on his lips, and your cunt throbs blissfully as he pulls back to lick the rest of your slick that stains the lower half of his face with a hum.
He forces you to relax and catch your breath as he goes back to frosting the cupcakes like he didn't just make your legs feel like jello, and once they're finished, he doesn't stop you from returning the favor. He leans back against the counter while you pull his cock from his boxers. His jeans pool at his ankles, and your mouth swallows his cock until his lungs shake to breathe properly.
You suck, bobbing your head, taking him deeper, enjoying the way his thighs tremble under your hands while your tongue massages the veins on the underside of his shaft.
When he cums, you swallow it all, relishing the ache in your jaw as you both pant to catch your breath.
Mingyu leaves your apartment with a quick peck on your lips, and at least four cupcakes in a to-go box. It's honestly weird how easy it all is for you, watching Mingyu slip into a taxi as you wet your lips with your tongue. You're so lost in your thoughts you barely hear the door to your left opening up before your eyes lock onto warm brown ones.
Seungcheol's hair is wet like he just got out of the shower, and his cheeks darken almost immediately when you catch him stepping out of his apartment. You barely get a glimpse of the anime posters hung up on his living room wall before you tilt your head to look at him again.
Seungcheol has been your neighbor a little longer than you've dated your ex, and the moment you saw him, you knew he was a nerd; he wore anime t-shirts like they were going out of style, had a weekly DND game with a few of his friends at his apartment every Thursday night, and the whole time you knew him, not once did you ever see a girl go into his apartment. You were pretty sure his routine consisted of going to the gym and going to classes, and that was it. So seeing him in the hallway genuinely made you freeze.
A moment of silence lingered awkwardly, and passively you noted he looked good in those grey sweatpants before you gave him a friendly smile in greeting. "Would you like a cupcake?"
After Mingyu, your life gets a little busy. You pick up extra shifts at work, focus on your classes, and ignore Seungkwan's text about some guy named Jun. You try to keep yourself occupied, taking a moment to figure out how to be alone and remember what makes you happy as the semester comes to an end.
You see Seungcheol a lot more than you did before. Usually it's in passing, him heading out as you come home from work or when he picks up his mail and rides an elevator with you as you bring home groceries for yourself.
You learn he's just as nerdy as you thought he was. It seems Seungcheol can't help but blurt random facts at you when you find yourself alone with him. His special expertise is anything, really. He tells you about the migration of some sharks randomly when you step onto the elevator with him for the first time. He blurts it like he can't contain the information any longer, and you find it cute the way his ears burn red all the way down his neck.
You find out Seungcheol is studying mechanical engineering, and that his eyes light up when you ask him to tell you more about it. You won't admit that your eyes glaze over a little bit when he gets too technical, but you still really enjoy the way he speaks so passionately about it. You honestly find him really attractive for it, and maybe that's why when you come home late on Saturday night, you find yourself digging out your trusted and favorited dildo to let out some steam.
You don't even mean to think about your neighbor like that. You were just so exhausted and pent-up, and you didn't want to reach out to DK or Mingyu or whoever else Seungkwan was determined to pimp you out to; you just wanted to cum.
So that's what you tried to do. You took in slow breaths, closing your eyes and focusing on the hum of your vibrator as you slowly slid it down your stomach.
But your mind wouldn't shut off, bouncing between the last few classes you had before break started and the fact that your boss asked if you would come in early Wednesday. Not surprisingly, this doesn't make you relax, and your body fidgets as you dip the head of the vibrating dildo between your folds, teasing your clit for stimulation.
Your thighs shake from the stimulus, and you let out a sigh as you try to redirect your thoughts.
Your mind flashes to a smut scene you had read in a book the other day, and your legs spread open a little wider. Your mind flashes to DK, and a smile curves on your lips before moving on to Mingyu, imagining his head between your thighs. You can feel your stomach getting warmer at the thought, and the imaginary knot in your tummy twists as you swirl your dildo lower, collecting your arousal on the toy before rubbing it back up to your clit.
Your breaths grow deeper, and your head tilts back as the vibrating noises resonate through your bedroom. Your moans come out somewhat quieter, mixing in with the wet, slick noises of your pussy, and suddenly you're imagining deep brown eyes. A dimple smile of your neighbor appears in your head, and you imagine how he'd smile over you as he settles between your open thighs.
Your gasp comes out sharper at that, and you press your toy firmer against your bundle of nerves, his name falling from your lips louder than expected.
You think about how Seungcheol's blush probably spreads down to his chest when he's worked up, how he'd look at you like you hung the stars in the night sky yourself, and your pussy weeps for him. You wonder if you'd had to guide him to what makes you feel good, if he'd stutter from his lack of experience, and when you're just about to reach your climax, your ex's face flashes across your mind and your orgasm is gone within the second.
You groan in frustration, squeezing your legs together, and you truly contemplate buying an Etsy witch online to place a curse because this is unfair.
In anger, you swiftly turned the toy off, tossing it to the side where it stayed at the foot of your bed as you let out another groan. Fuck me.
And then the doorbell rang.
"I can't catch a break," you huffed and hastily tied a robe around yourself. You were naked underneath, and you didn't think as you stomped your way to your front door. "Yeah?" You asked, swinging the door open enough to reveal the same warm brown eyes that had you slicked between your thighs not too long ago.
Seungcheol stood before you as he did back when Mingyu left your place weeks ago. He was freshly showered, with water droplets slowly falling from the ends of his hair; they rolled down his neck and momentarily distracted you from the way he was looking at you, and you belatedly realized that your house robe hardly covered you.
Your robe falls just above your upper thighs, barely covering your ass, and if you leaned forward, you'd be giving him enough material for his spank bank to last him a good while. Fuck, you hope he can't smell the fact you almost used him to cum a few minutes ago. You shook the thought away and plastered a friendly, neighborly smile on your face as you greeted him. "Oh, is there something you need?"
You watched a little flush appear on his cheeks, his gaze flitting down your body, lingering on your cleavage before meeting your eyes again. "I was, uh," Seungcheol's brain lags for a second, and you're able to see his pupils dilate as whatever he came over to tell you is quickly shoved away in favor of boldly stepping inside your apartment. Seungcheol's frame fills your doorway almost completely, and you're acutely aware of how his fingers twitch at his sides as he speaks up again. "The walls are thin."
What? Your brain struggles to process what it means before Seungcheol takes another step inside, but this time he makes sure the door shuts behind him, leaving you alone in the apartment with him. "I'm sorry?" Your voice comes out a little breathless, like the room knew something was going to happen, and your eyes flicker down to his plump lips distractedly.
Seungcheol's smile comes out a little amused, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as he nods his head quietly. He takes another step, this time eliminating a lot of space between you two, and the heat that radiates from him warms you all the way down to your toes. "Yeah, did you know that?" He asks, and you have to tilt your head up to keep eye contact. "The walls are thin here, and that means I can hear you. Did you know we share a bedroom wall?"
Your stomach flutters when you realize what he's implying, and your cheeks burn with the answer. "Oh-"
Seungcheol's head tilts, and his smile shows the dimple you'd been missing as he hums. "I've had to listen to your ex leave you unsatisfied for two years. Then you had me listen to that first rebound; you didn't even leave your bedroom, just stayed right there in the living room." Your heart squeezes when he clicks his tongue with a scoff, shaking his head like he was scolding you. He had heard everything, and your thighs squeeze together for relief. "Then you were with that other guy, fuck the way you cried out; I had to take a shower with your pretty cries swirling in my head."
Oh, you're wet, dripping down your thighs as you listen to him, and your mind reels with the image of him in the shower, fucking his hand to the thought of you. You wonder if, when you had caught him outside as you watched Mingyu leave, he had gone outside on purpose to see you. The thought turns you on, and your breath hitches when his hands pull you in by the waist while his head lowers.
His lips ghost over yours, teasing you, and your eyelashes flutter as he murmurs, "When's it going to be my turn, hmm?"
That's all you need to hear before you're crashing your lips against his. You had thought Seungcheol would be shy, lacking in experience, but the way he lifted you, kissing you like it was his last, proved otherwise.
He doesn't need to pull away from the kiss to lead you into your bedroom; your layout is the mirrored version of his, and before you can process what was happening, he was already tossing you onto your bed. Your robe falls open from the movement, and Seungcheol gets the pretty view of you completely naked underneath him as he climbs onto the bed after you. "My final straw was when you cried out my name ten minutes ago." He hums, and his hands slide up your thighs, spreading your legs wider for him to settle between them. "If you're going to say my name, Baby, I want a front row view. Better yet, let me do all the work."
He gives you another dazzling smile and a wink before he's kissing you again. He takes charge, coaxing your mouth open so he can explore with his tongue while his hands map out every curve of your body, and it's overwhelming in the best way. Your body reacts to his naturally, and your back arches as his hands squeeze your breasts earnestly, pinching your nipples with enough pressure to make your hips buck up into his.
"You're so sensitive, aren't ya-" His lips skim down your neck, trailing lower until his lips suck one of your nipples into his warm mouth, and it makes your pussy weep in delight. You feel his tongue swirl, wetting your breast with his saliva as he moves to the other one, giving it the same treatment as one of his hands slides down to grab under your knee. He lifts it to give him more room to move, and his hips roll to grind his hard cock against your cunt, creating a delicious friction between the fabric of his sweats and your puffy clit. "I've waited for this for so long - mmph - wanted you since you moved in."
Your gasps become more frequent as he talks, scrambling your thoughts, and then his teeth bite into the swell of your breast hard enough to leave a mark, and your cunt squeezes around nothing pathetically. "Cheol! Oh fuck," your jaw drops, and Seungcheol's diligently making a path down your body, keeping your legs open with his broad shoulders.
You briefly wonder why it took you this long to see Seungcheol was right in front of you. You had always had a liking towards him, and you can't help but think of all the time you wasted. How you got it all wrong, about your ex, about what you deserve, about what was right in front of you. Your heart squeezes, and Seungcheol's fingers pinch under your thigh to get your attention back on him. "Don't do that. Don't run off into your head; focus on me. I want your eyes on me."
And he means that. His eyes stare into yours as he spreads your wet folds apart, and his breath fans over your sensitive cunt as he makes sure you're watching. When his tongue flattens over your pretty pussy, you know you're in trouble because he groans like you're the sweetest thing, and it makes him dive in deeper, dragging his tongue all the way up to your clit with another low groan.
He swirls the little nub with messy circles, sucking on it until you twist your fingers in his hair and he eats you out like it's more for him than it's for you. His pupils dilate, and his fingers dig into your thighs, pulling them over his shoulders as he laps, sucks, and slurps your sweet slick with fervor. He makes a mess out of you, focusing on your clit until your thighs are squeezing his head in mercy.
When he has you dripping with your arousal, the tip of his tongue flicks your clit while his fingers sink into your entrance with ease. You take two of his fingers with hardly any resistance, and the stretch of his digits has your tummy flip as he curls them up, searching for the one spot that'll make you see white.
He knows he's found it when your eyes roll back, and your mouth drops open stupidly. Your legs try to close as his fingertips rub into it, hitting it with each thrust of his hand, and it's too much when he adds another finger. The knot in your stomach twists with each jab, and he's watching your tongue stick out like those hentais he liked to watch as he sucks on your clit at the same time.
You've never felt this type of heat in your stomach before, and you don't think as you try to push him off of you. "Wait- wait, I think I have to pee." You cry out, and your cheeks flush as he keeps you pinned with one hand, working you over faster. He's seen this scene before, where the girl says that, and if he's right, he knows he shouldn't stop.
And he proves it as your eyes cross and your body locks up suddenly while you gurgle out a long whine. Your pussy slurps his fingers in pulses as you gush, spraying like a little geyser as he fucks you through it without slowing down.
Your slick comes in waves as he leans back, watching you soak his hand and the bed underneath you with a cocky smirk, and you even squirt up onto his t-shirt, clutching onto his arm as your hips twitch. It's the hottest thing he's ever gotten to witness; it's way better than the porn he's masturbated to, and he doesn't waste time tossing his shirt over his head and shoving his sweatpants down right after he's fucked you through your first orgasm.
You're still trembling when Seungcheol manhandles your legs up to your chest, and your vision is too blurry to realize he's naked. His cock is hard, red at the tip, and throbbing with need. Precum dribbles from the head of his cock, dripping onto your tummy as he leans over you and waits until your eyes focus on him when he gives you another smile.
"I knew you were a messy baby, squirted all over. You did so good for me, but I'm going to need you to do it again, okay?"
Your ears ring, and you must be dumb because what does he mean? You didn't squirt? You don't know how to. But you can feel your slick dripping down your ass, and the bedsheets are sticking to your skin, and your eyes blink up at Seungcheol in astonishment.
He fucking made you squirt.
Your pussy flutters, and Seungcheol's leaning over you again while reaching for his discarded sweats. He pulls a condom from one of the pockets, tearing it open before rolling the rubber down his thick shaft. You feel delirious and almost want to tell him to leave it off, but you know it's your brain all foggy from your last orgasm. Maybe next time.
When Seungcheol sits back on his knees, he's got your legs spread open and his cock heavy in his hand as he drags it up your sodden slit. "You're so pretty," he murmurs, and you're feeling the pressure of his cock before it's sinking into you. Your puffy folds part for his rotund tip, and he makes your gummy walls stretch deliciously to take the first few inches inside your warm cunt before he eases back and then in again.
He's big. Not just in length, but girth as well, and the heaviness of him has you clawing to hold onto something. Your nails scratch into your bedsheets, holding onto them as he raises your ass off the bed, using gravity to plug you to the base of his cock in one full swoop. When his hips meet your ass, you feel like he's in your lungs, and it must be true because all the air leaves from your lips in a wrecked moan.
All your thoughts disappear from your pretty head, and your pussy flutters around his length, trying to get used to the stretch while he leans down to kiss your breasts again. He doesn't move until you're twitching underneath him, squeezing him like you wanted him deeper, and he's more than happy to give you what you want.
The first slam of his hips rocks you and the bed, and your moans get punched out of you as the head of his cock knocks into your cervix with a heavy thump. Seungcheol is all you can see, all you can feel, and your brain turns off as a familiar buzzing resonates through the air. Your dildo, once forgotten at the foot of your bed, appears in your eyesight, dangling from Seungcheol's left hand, and your pussy squelches obscenely as he bottoms out again.
"Was this what you were using when you were thinking of me?" Seungcheol asks, and your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth. You watch as he teases the vibrating dildo across your stomach, making your breath hitch as he continues to grind into you with a mean precision. But then he's leaning back on his knees, keeping your ass in his lap and off the bed, as he brings the toy lower.
You're going to be ruined.
"Cheol- ah, please-" You're not sure what you're pleading for, but Seungcheol's eyes are hooded, swirling with hunger, and the moment he dips your dildo past your puffy folds to kiss your sensitive clit, you're putty in his hands. The vibrations make your whole body twitch, and your pussy clamps down on Seungcheol's cock, milking him for more as your eyes squeeze shut in pleasure. "Oh fuck!"
Seungcheol coos in wonderment, taking in the way your back arches and his cock jumps inside you, threatening to end this all right now from how gorgeous you look underneath him - but Seungcheol's waited too long for this, so he presses the toy more firmly, circling your clitoris while he rocks shallowly inside your sweet pussy. You feel like heaven, and he's determined to make you cum again before he does.
And thankfully, it's not that hard to get you there.
After your first intense orgasm, you're unbelievably wet, soaking his condom covered cock in your juices, and making each rock of his hips easier than the last. It's lewd the way your pussy squelches with each tap his tip knocks into your g-spot like it's nothing, and you unravel within minutes. Your jaw drops wide open as you hold onto his wrist; he's been keeping the toy consistently buzzing on your pretty pussy, bringing you closer to the edge faster than ever before.
You cum silently. Your breath leaves your lungs with a sharp gasp, and your body tenses as he watches your eyes roll back as you squirt for the second time. Your legs shake as you fall apart underneath him, and Seungcheol cums shortly after you do - groaning lowly as his cock fills the condom up with his warm seed.
When he finally slips from between your legs, you watch him disappear into your bathroom, and you're left reeling from what just happened. Seungcheol had not only been the opposite of what you had thought he'd be, but then, unbeknownst to him, had ruined you for anyone else in one single night. You blink stupidly up at your ceiling, and Seungcheol returns with a wet towel, his smile sheepish as he cleaned you up the best he could.
"I don't know if you're still rebounding, or dating, or what-" Seungcheol murmured, and your eyes met his, noticing the familiar pink dusting the tops of his ears as he tossed the dirty towel into your laundry basket. "But if I haven't made it clear enough, I'm an option. I want to be your option."
You blink, your heart skipping a beat at his admission, and your hand reaches for his. "Stay?"
대박 - you made it to the end!
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