✝︎ Tired goth 🦇

➥Hi everyone!! Call my gotly!*★٭ও ⚠︎MDNI blog (86') she/her ꔛ Sorry but english is not my first language

[sailorsoons]

This and they pass me around like a blunt at their leisure

[sailorsoons]

[kazumx]

♱ BELONG TO ME

In which you slowly fall inlove with your possessive and flirty bsf who sees you two as nothing more than friends

Joshua x fem!reader

Part 2

Notes: 18+, reader is a litte oblivious, toxic behavior, nsfw, angst. (There MIGHT be a part 2), this is kinda like my jaehyun(bnd) one bcs i wanted write sm like this again lol

[n0turg1rlfr1end]

[aetheriscece]

deeper & deeper — hvc.

drabble⠀⠀wc: 751

summary: dragging vernon into a spiral of dizziness and desire.

tags: vampire!au, prey!vernon x vamp!reader, strangers to ???, VERY descriptive writing, slightly suggestive, vernon is not in all his senses, allutions to blood and blood drinking, allutions to a messy makeout.

cece's note: got a little break form the Chan fic I'm writing to celebrate my babe >:) this month will be nine months being friends with my caratblr wifey @kugiski, so i wrote this little something for her. hope you enjoy it ;)

🎧⠀based on lexie liu's song DEEPER & DEEPER.

Vernon felt dizzy. Even if he was sober and substance-free, he had never felt so light-headed before.

The flashing lights and the strong bass from the club speakers were of little help in keeping him in his five senses. Every single rumble of the beat in his ears was inducing him into a trance, difficult not to fall into. And as much as he wanted to ask his friends if they were witnessing the same thing, he found himself too drawn to the imposing presence of your body from the other side of the room to even move.

You appeared to be alone, though he would not be so sure. What he was actually certain of was how your mere existence seemed to overshadow every other person in the crowded place.

Despite the poor lighting, your figure was always clear to him. As if you shone on your own.

He heard a soft voice right over his left shoulder. The singing voice of a woman that he then heard in his right ear, too. It sang a gentle melody for him over the loud music. It cooed and led him deeper and deeper into a stupor, in which he lost control over his own body. He could feel it, but it did not concern him, not when your eyes met his.

Suddenly, everything around him went dark, and his eyes were not able to perceive anything but you. The flashing lights and the loud music were still there. However, when Vernon turned around to look for his friends once more, he found that every other body in the club was nothing more than the vague image of a shapeless figure.

The singing voice caught his attention back to you. That was when he noticed the purposefulness of your dance. Like you knew his favorite moves by heart. And if you were not far from him, he could not keep his hands to himself.

His growing necessity to reach out for you manifested in a burning sensation in his throat. A thirst that made him want to drink from you. He did not know exactly what he wanted from you. He did not think about the nonsense of his increasing desire. He just knew he needed you to satiate it.

The chorus of the song hit the room with a force that made Vernon nearly stumble forward. Yet, he did not take his eyes off of you. When your hands started to wander all over your body, his eyes followed.

He was so fixed on you; he noticed every detail. The sweat on your skin, your slightly messed-up hair, and your lipstick smudged a little. He was so focused on exanimating you whole that he did not even notice when you started walking towards him, or when he started walking towards you.

You two walked into the dark. Vernon felt his fingertips charged with electricity, anticipating the moment you would meet in the middle of the dance floor.

All the inhibitions he normally had were gone when he finally could lay his hands on you. His first instinct was to grab your hips tightly to pull you close, to which you chuckled, cocky. You put your hands over his shoulders, caressing the nape of his neck. He guided your moves.

Even if his grip was firm, he led you slowly at first, not testing the waters, but wanting to memorize every curve and the feeling of your body against his.

You pressed against him closer and closer. Vernon remained spellbound the second your lips met his neck. Kissing, sucking, biting. A thick drop of warm liquid ran down to his collarbones; you licked it, gathering it all on the tip of your tongue.

His gentle guiding hands stopped being all soft. His hold on your hips became rough as they travelled lower. The smugness in your smile grew to absolute arrogance once he squeezed your ass greedily. Looking into your eyes, Vernon spotted the fervent carmine highlights. Then you kissed him, crashed your lips on his.

The metallic taste flooded his mouth like an overflowed river. It was all tongue, teeth, and spit, and that warm ferrous liquid dozing him in and out of the trance until he no longer knew where he was. Where did you bring him? He did pay any mind; he was more than willing to go to heaven with you. Or to hell. It did not matter, as long as it was you who led the way.

Practicing my writing skills in English 😝 any comment or advice on it is highly appreciated. 🤍

© aetheriscece 2026

[borrowedparagraphs]

BORROWED GLANCES – Vernon Chwe

Watching from the sidelines is easy. Looking someone in the eyes is a different story.

pairing: non!idolVernon × f!reader synopsis: As Vernon effortlessly steals the attention of everyone around him, you're convinced you're just another face in the crowd. But after your best friend points out something you somehow failed to notice all afternoon, every passing glance begins to mean something different. Maybe you weren't the only one stealing looks.

genre: fluff, mutual pining, summer romance warnings: none word count: 2184 Author's Note This story was inspired by an actual dream I had. Some dreams fade the moment you wake up, this one refused to leave me alone. This is also my first fanfic written in English as it’s not my first language, so I’m sorry if there are any grammar mistakes. <3

-

It was a beautiful summer afternoon. The temperature was pleasant, and fleecy clouds drifted across the sky, shielding the sun every now and then.

You and your best friend Kate had decided it was a good idea to spend your time at the park nearby for a picnic.

While you were eating and laughing, a group of guys entered the park. There had to be about thirteen of them. Both of you tried to ignore them, but as they were being loud your attention kept going back. Suddenly one of the guys stepped away from the group as the first upbeat track blasted thorough the portable speaker. The others were cheering him on, drawing attention from other people around them.

You weren’t planning on looking for long.

Really, you weren’t.

But then the music started.

Your eyes followed the dancer as he effortlessly moved across the grass, his friends cheering him on over the music. There was something oddly familiar about him. It wasn’t until he turned slightly, sunlight catching his face for just a moment, that it clicked. Vernon Chwe.

You worked as a cashier at the local record store and Vernon came by every Saturday. He usually took his time to listen to various records, but he would buy a vinyl once in a while. You soon noticed that he had a broad taste in music, something that somehow didn’t surprise you.

Every now and then you’d comment on the album he picked, partly to make conversation and partly because you genuinely found his taste in music interesting. He rarely said much in return. Sometimes he’d offer a small smile. Other times, just a quiet nod before continuing to browse. Since he was a member, his name appeared on the register every time he scanned his card. That’s how you remembered it. You had to admit, though, that he was easy to remember. The day your heart skipped at the sound of the bell above the shop door, you realized your little admiration had quietly turned into a crush.

Now he was close enough that you could make out the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Every now and then, his gaze drifted over the small crowd that had gathered to watch before dropping back to his footwork. He brushed a loose curl away from his face as if it were part of the choreography, making your breath catch. He turned and shuffled closer to where you were sitting.

“Isn’t he cool?” Kate asked, snapping you out of your tunnel vision.

You turned your head towards her and nodded. “He has good taste in music, but I didn’t know he could dance too,” you answered.

Kate fell silent for a second. You knew exactly what she was thinking. “Y/N!” The way she squealed your name made you flinch a little. A few curious glances came your way, but you barely noticed.

Your attention had already returned to Vernon. He was back where he’d started, effortlessly slipping into the sequence of steps. Every smile he offered towards the crowd made your silly little crush feel just a little more impossible. Maybe it was time to stop staring. Your gaze drifted to the soft pink picnic blanket beneath you, dotted with tiny periwinkle flowers. You absentmindedly smoothed one of the creases with your hand.

Kate reached for another strawberry, popped it into her mouth and nudged the container toward you. “Want one?” The bright red of the fruit glistened in the sunlight. Its sweet scent made you realize you hadn’t eaten in a while, so you accepted it with a small smile.

You hadn’t even noticed another song had started. A burst of laughter from the crowd caught your attention once again. One of Vernon’s friends was the center of attention now. You looked up just in time to see him pushing himself off the ground.

“Dude totally ate grass,” Kate snorted. But before he could stand up again, another friend threw himself atop of him. The group dissolved into chaos, causing the crowd to laugh even harder. After a minute of observing the chaos, your eyes drifted toward Vernon again. He wandered between his friends, taking a drink from a water bottle. “You’ve been staring at him for at least fifteen minutes,” Kate teased.

“I have not,” you said a little too quickly.

She shook her head and chuckled. “You’re so done.”

You rolled your eyes at Kate and picked up your bottle of lemonade. The condensation had left a damp patch on the blanket. Before you could take a sip, Kate started talking again. “By the way, are you working tomorrow?”

You looked at her while unscrewing the cap. You paused to think before nodding a second later.

“Yeah, from ten until closing. So not looking forward to it,” you answered.

“Five bucks says he’ll stop by tomorrow,” Kate teased. “I’m not betting five dollars on that.” “Scared you’ll lose?”

She nudged your arm, making you wobble just enough to spill a drop of lemonade over the rim of your bottle. Kate’s laugh slowly faded.

Another cheer erupted, drawing your gaze back again. Vernon had already passed by and was making his way back toward the circle of dancers. A sigh escaped your lips. “He never even looked at me once,” you said, sounding more disappointed than you intended.

Kate stared at you for a moment, nearly dropping her bottle of iced tea. “Are you blind? He has been eyeing you up, girlfriend!” You blinked at her, your eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. “He was really looking at me?” Your cheeks felt warm; you were probably as red as a tomato. Kate gave you a dry, fondly amused look. “Yes, you absolute idiot. Every time you look away, he looks at you. Then the second you look back, he suddenly becomes very interested in literally anything else.” The afternoon suddenly played itself back in your mind. Every song, every glance, and every moment you’d chosen to look away instead. You absentmindedly started plucking blades of grass while wondering if your best friend was messing with you. She must have misread the situation too, right? There was no way Vernon was actually interested in you. One last time, your eyes searched for him. Vernon wasn’t dancing any longer, but was talking to his friends instead. One of them made a joke, which caused him to laugh out loud. His knees buckled slightly as he clung to his friend. This made you chuckle. You watched him as he got back up again and took another sip of water. That was the moment he looked around the park, and his eyes found yours. It only lasted for about half a second. He rubbed his neck and suddenly started walking in your direction. The butterflies inside your stomach made you nauseous, but you tried to swallow down the feeling. Kate stood up from the blanket. “I’ll throw this away before ants crawl all over it,” she announced, taking the empty container. “No, wait,” you hissed, trying to catch her arm, but she was already gone. You stared at the blanket for a moment longer, suddenly unsure if looking up was a good idea. You’d convinced yourself you looked like a lost puppy. What if Kate had imagined the whole thing? What if you looked up only to catch him looking somewhere else? Another sigh escaped your lips, and you brushed a strand of hair out of your face. When you finally looked up, he was standing right in front of you. One hand rested in the pocket of his jeans, the other loosely holding a half-empty water bottle. For a heartbeat, neither of you spoke. He opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again. His gaze briefly dropped to the grass before finding yours again.

A shy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he let out the quietest breath. “Mind if I sit here?” It took a second before his words landed, and you nodded. Goosebumps traced your arms as soon as he sat down. For a moment, the two of you simply sat there, listening to the music drifting across the park. He absentmindedly peeled at the edge of the label wrapped around his water bottle. “You work at the record store, right?” A nervous chuckle escaped your lips. “Yeah, I’m usually behind the register. You always pick really good albums.” The words slipped out before you had the chance to think. You mentally slapped yourself. Smooth. Really smooth. If the earth could open up beneath the blanket, now would be a wonderful time. His eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I never really know what to say when people compliment my music taste.” He looked down at the water bottle in his hands for a second, slowly turning it between his fingers. The knot in your stomach loosened ever so slightly. He seemed just as nervous. He cleared his throat. “The music you play at the store isn’t bad either.” You bit your bottom lip to hide a smile, but the crinkle around your eyes betrayed you. A light chuckle slipped out anyway. “Keeps you guessing every Saturday, doesn’t it?” He let out a small laugh, shaking his head once. “Yeah.” His fingers paused on the label. “I actually… look forward to it.” Warmth spread through your chest. “I’m glad I have your approval.” You looked over at the dance circle. “Well… today’s been full of surprises.” Vernon shifted on the blanket so he was turned towards you a little more and put the bottle next to him. He tilted his head. “How come?” You looked over at the open stretch of grass where he had been dancing only minutes ago. His friends were now sitting in a circle, playing some sort of game that involved pointing at each other. You nodded toward it. “I didn’t know you could dance like that,” you answered. “It looked like it was easier than breathing.” He shrugged. “It’s not as difficult as it looks.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “Easy for you to say! I’d probably trip over my own feet.” He smiled. “Probably.” You gasped in mock defense, which earned a genuine laugh from him. It was brighter than you’d expected, completely unguarded. For a moment, you simply stared, completely off guard by how different it sounded from the quiet smiles and nods you were used to seeing at the record store. “I’d help you,” he continued, his laughter fading into something softer. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking a little less confident. “If you wanted.” Your brain took a second to catch up. He’d really just offered to teach you. Say something. Anything. Before he starts thinking you’re about to reject him. “Yeah,” you blurted. “I’d... I’d love that.” The corners of his mouth lifted, almost as if he couldn’t quite hide it. Some of the tension eased from his shoulders. A smile lingered between the two of you, small and unmistakably shy. Neither of you said anything for a moment, until a shout echoed from across the field. “VERNON!” Both of you turned toward the sound. A guy with blond hair, a tangerine in one hand, was waving for him to come back. Vernon let out a quiet sigh before getting to his feet. “Well, Seungkwan wants me to join their game, I suppose.” He took two steps before stopping and turned back, frowning ever so slightly. “I forgot to ask...” He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly annoyed with himself. “Could I get your number?” You blinked at him for a second before a laugh escaped you. “Only because you remembered before you left.” He laughed softly and shook his head. “Fair.” You handed him your phone. He took it carefully, his thumb briefly brushing yours as he took it. After adding his number to your contacts, he handed it back. Your fingers brushed once more. The butterflies returned instantly.

He smiled. “See you Saturday.” You nodded, still holding onto the warmth of the moment as he walked away. The moment he joined his friends, you dropped back onto the blanket. You stared at the clouds that drifted by, thinking about what had happened.

It wasn’t long before Kate blocked your view. “Wait… did he just ask for your number?” she teased. You lifted your hands to hide your flushed face. “I think I just made plans with Vernon Chwe,” you whispered. Kate stared at you for a second before a grin spread across her face. “You know what the funniest part is?” she said. You looked up at her. “What?” “You spent fifteen minutes convincing me you weren’t staring at him.” You covered your face again, groaning. “I hate you.” “No, you don’t,” she replied with a laugh. You smiled despite yourself and looked back at the sky. Somewhere across the park, Vernon laughed with his friends again. This time, you didn’t look over. You didn’t need to.

[cherry-zip]

─ • CSC .ᐟ Knockout Hearts

› pairing┆boxer seungcheol x reader › genre┆fluff romance ✎ word-count .ᐟ 3k ⌁ summary┆Seungcheol's cute goth girlfriend is getting all his attention and showing off a whole new side of him to the world.

✎ author's note┆dug that fic from the grave, hope you enjoy it nonetheless - kinda thinking of making a pt2 with more... mature content ?

Choi Seungcheol is a renowned boxer. Due to his career choice, he spends most of his time training at the gym. While his intimidating presence usually scares people away, he has a soft spot for his girlfriend, an adorable, goth songwriter who often drops by to visit him as he trains.

He is considered one of the best fighters of his generation, if not the best — an achievement he’s worked incredibly hard for. He built himself a strong and ruthless reputation; everyone respected him. Although he is tough to the rest of the world, behind closed doors, he is the clingiest, cutest, and most affectionate teddy bear with his partner – something that would shock the other members of the gym.

You’re the perfect polar opposite of Seungcheol; sweet, timid, and a little childish at times. Above all, you're terrified of fighting and roughhousing, preferring quiet afternoons writing poetry, playing your guitar, and watching Ghibli movies.

Seungcheol fell hard for you the very first time he saw you walking down the street, holding a bouquet of flowers in your arms. It was practically love at first sight. Since that day, he made it his mission to win you over — and he succeeded, landing the sweetest and most supportive girlfriend he could ever ask for.

The tough guy is very protective and careful with you, often worrying that you are too gentle and precious for this world. But minor worries aside, he absolutely loves his personal sunshine cheerleader. Naturally, your soft charm won the hearts of all Seungcheol's friends and training partners, leaving more than a few people looking on with envy.

Seungcheol cherishes every moment spent with you. From the quiet times you wrap bandages around his blistered knuckles with your pretty, black-manicured hands, to lazy days spent cuddling in bed. Whether you’re watching a movie, softly singing a song, or simply enjoying the presence of the other, one thing is certain: the love between you is undeniable.

The gym smelled like sweat, iron, and determination.

Choi Seungcheol, also known as “S.Coups,” stood in the center of the ring, muscles coiled like springs, sweat glistening across his sculpted frame. His fists were a blur, slicing through the air with rhythmic precision, the sound of gloves hitting the bag echoing through the cavernous space. Every man and woman in the gym either admired him or feared him — often both. There was no denying he was a beast: a born fighter, the best of his generation.

But at exactly 3:00 p.m., the entire atmosphere of the gym shifted.

“Yo, it’s cutie girl o’clock,” Mingyu muttered with a grin, nudging Joshua, who’d already perked up.

The heavy metal playlist cut through the air as the front door creaked open. You walked in — a vision in black lace high socks and platform boots, a delicate bouquet of daisies in your arms, although you always said you disliked how delicate things contrasted with your style. Your nails were painted black, as always, and your soft eyes scanned the gym until they landed on him.

And Seungcheol – the man who hadn’t smiled once during his long training session?

He lit up like the sun.

“Baby!” he called out, hopping down from the ring with the agility of a cat. His voice, usually a low, sharp command, turned warm and honeyed just for you. “C’mere, I missed you.”

The reactions were immediate. Someone dropped a dumbbell, almost crushing their toes. Jeonghan blinked like he’d seen a ghost, while Jihoon actually choked on his protein shake.

You giggled shyly and made your way to him, cheeks a little pink. “You saw me last night.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you,” he replied, already wrapping his strong arms gently around your waist, careful not to get you dirty with sweat. He looked at you like you were made of glass – scratch that – glass would be too harsh a comparison. You were made of starlight and silk, and in his eyes, you didn’t belong anywhere near this harsh world of bruises and blood. But he was selfish, and he needed you close.

“I brought flowers,” you said sweetly, and held them up. “And some lyrics. Thought you might want to read them later.”

“Only if you sing them to me tonight.”

Head low, you nodded shyly, fiddling with the hem of your sleeves. “Okay. But only if you cuddle me properly this time. Properly. No, ‘my shoulder hurts, so I can only use one arm’ excuses.”

“I’ll use both arms,” he promised, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, uncaring of the eyes on him. “I’ll even be the little spoon if you want.”

“No one’s gonna believe this,” Seokmin whispered from behind a locker door.

You sat on a bench while Seungcheol went back to finish a few sets, your sketchbook open across your lap, scribbling lines of verse as you watched him move. He was beautiful, in that brutal, untamed way — all power and control. And yet, he looked back at you every chance he got, blowing kisses like a teenage boy trying to impress his crush.

Later, when the gym cleared out and the evening light slanted through the high windows, you were bandaging his knuckles.

Your fingers moved gently, the black polish on your nails a striking contrast to his blistered hands. You hummed softly, a lullaby you'd written just last week. Seungcheol didn’t say a word — just watched you, his eyes impossibly soft.

“You’re too good to me,” he said eventually, voice low.

You looked up, confused. “Why?”

“Because you’re the only person who sees me like this. Everyone else sees fists and scars. You see... me. The real me.”

You paused, laying a hand gently over his chest. “I see your heart, Cheol. It’s a very good one.”

The gym was quieter now, the kind of quiet that only came after hours of sweat and strain. The remaining lights cast long shadows across the worn floor, and a soft hum of music played faintly in the background. Seungcheol had finished his last set for the day, but you were still here — a habit of yours. You’d taken up residence on the small bench by the ring, one of your favorite spots.

Glancing up from the lyrics scribbled in your notebook, you caught him wiping his brow with the back of his taped hand. His body was still tense from the workout, but the moment his gaze met yours, all that hardness seemed to melt right away.

"I think it’s time for your reward, isn’t it?" you teased, tapping the spot next to you on the bench.

Seungcheol smirked, the cocky fighter’s grin curling at the corners of his lips. But it didn’t take more than a second for him to wipe it away and move toward you with the grace of a panther.

“You always know what I want,” he murmured, settling down beside you. He draped his arm around your shoulders, his muscles still warm from the workout. Leaning into him, you pressed your cheek against the soft cotton of his shirt, taking in the familiar scent of his sweat and mint that always made you feel safe.

"Is this really a reward?" you teased, your voice muffled by his shoulder. "You’ve been so clingy lately. Don’t you need to train more? You’re starting to lose your ‘tough’ reputation."

Seungcheol chuckled, shaking his head. "Who cares about my reputation when I'm with you? You know I’m only tough because I have to be. I don't need to prove myself when I’m with you; you're my peace."

You raised your head to look at him, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You'd never get used to how differently he spoke to you. To the world, he was a ruthless machine, a force that was always ready to take any challenge, but to you? He was the biggest softie you’d ever met.

"And you’re mine," you said, the words slipping out so naturally that it made your heart flutter.

Seungcheol looked at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before his lips parted into a rare smile, soft and full of affection. He leaned in, brushing a kiss against your forehead.

“Stop saying stuff like that,” he murmured, his voice gruff but fond. “You’re gonna make me fall even harder for you.”

You laughed quietly, leaning into his touch, basking in the comfort of his arms around you. “I think it’s already too late for you.”

He didn’t deny it. He never did.

For a long while, the two of you just sat there in silence, the kind of silence that only came when two people were completely at ease with one another. You were watching the fading light from the windows, the golden hue spilling across the ring and casting a warm glow over everything.

"Do you ever think about retiring?" you asked suddenly, feeling the weight of your question in the air between you.

Seungcheol was quiet for a moment, as though he hadn't expected that question. But then he shrugged slightly, as if it didn’t matter.

"Sometimes,” he admitted. “But boxing is all I know. I have no idea what I'd do if I stopped. Besides," he added, glancing at you with a playful glint in his eyes, "I think I’d get bored. I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you if I didn’t have all this energy to burn."

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder again. "Well, I’d still love you, even if you did retire. But if you ever do... maybe we can spend more time in the garden. And you can read poetry with me."

“Deal,” he said with a nod, squeezing your shoulder. "But only if you promise to sing the poems you write. I need a soundtrack to my life."

Before you could respond, the door to the gym opened again, and the voices of Seungcheol’s gym buddies floated through. You couldn’t help but smile when you heard the familiar banter of Mingyu and Jeonghan.

"Little one!" Mingyu's booming voice called, already halfway across the gym. "You’re still here? I swear you’re always hanging out with this guy. Don’t you have a life?"

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh as Mingyu flopped down beside you, putting his arm around your shoulders like he’d done a hundred times before.

"Don’t listen to him," Seungcheol growled in mock annoyance, pulling you closer to him. "I’m the only one who gets to steal your attention."

"I get plenty of attention from you," you teased, poking Seungcheol’s side. "Just look at you, always hovering over me. I swear, I’m the one who’s gonna get suffocated."

Seungcheol shot you a sideways glance, a playful scowl on his face. “I’m just making sure no one else gets any funny ideas.”

Mingyu grinned, nudging you with his elbow. “See, I told you. The Reaper has a soft spot for you.”

You stuck out your tongue, but before you could respond, someone from across the room caught your attention.

There, standing by the door, was a woman you’d never seen before — tall, striking, with fiery red hair and an air of confidence. She was watching Seungcheol with a kind of intense admiration. You couldn’t help but notice the way she lingered, her eyes tracing the muscles in his arms as he jokingly argued with Mingyu.

The room felt suddenly smaller.

Seungcheol, on the other hand, was oblivious, too caught up in his conversation with Mingyu to notice the woman’s gaze. You weren’t usually one to get jealous, but something about the way this stranger looked at your boyfriend made an uncomfortable knot tighten in your stomach.

Mingyu seemed to notice the shift in the air. His usual playful grin faltered, and he glanced over at you, his expression shifting to one of concern.

“Hey, little one,” Mingyu said in a quieter tone, “don’t worry about her. Seungcheol’s... well, you know he’s always been your guy, right?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. But you couldn’t shake the feeling in your chest.

Seungcheol finally turned, catching sight of the woman by the door. He froze, his eyes narrowing just slightly.

But before you could worry any more, Seungcheol was already walking over to her, his usual intimidating aura returning in full force.

"Can I help you?" he asked, his voice suddenly all business.

The woman blinked, clearly taken aback for a moment, before flashing him a charming smile, right hand starting to swirl her hair around. “I was just admiring you, the great Choi Seungcheol,” she said smoothly. “Such a skilled fighter. You’re quite the legend around here.”

Seungcheol’s expression softened, but only marginally. He had no interest in the flirty stranger, but there was a part of you — deep down — that wanted him to come back to you, to remind everyone who he belonged to.

Without hesitation, Seungcheol shot a glance at you. His eyes softened immediately when he saw you sitting there with puppy eyes, but the slight tension in your shoulders gave away how much that woman’s presence bothered you.

“I’ve got a girlfriend, actually,” Seungcheol said, his tone leaving no room for interpretation. “And she’s waiting for me. So, no offense, but I’ve got to go.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the way he handled it. His protective side was always there, lurking beneath the surface, ready to fight for you — not just in the ring, but in life, too.

As Seungcheol returned to your side, he leaned down and whispered in your ear, “You okay?”

You nodded, still a little shaken but mostly relieved. “Yeah. Just… felt weird.”

“I’m all yours,” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “And you’re mine. Don’t forget it.”

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling with affection for the man who was everything you never expected, and exactly what you needed.

The gym had quieted down again, but now, it felt like it was just the two of you — your world, your love, your safe space. And well… Mingyu.

The following days felt like a gentle rhythm, like the soft strum of your guitar mixed with the hum of Seungcheol’s training. You’d drop by the gym most afternoons, bringing lunch or sometimes just staying to watch him train. The men at the gym had gotten used to you by now — your soft, quiet presence was a stark contrast to the sweat and grunting that usually filled the air. They all adored you, seeing the way Seungcheol’s hard edges melted when you were around.

But no one knew just how much of a soft spot Seungcheol had for you. It wasn’t just about being protective — he was a different person when you were close. He would bring you coffee in the mornings, would ask you to pick out his outfits even though you always gravitated toward black hoodies and baggy pants. He liked that you saw beyond his fists, beyond the public figure he’d built himself to be.

And he, in turn, adored everything about you — the way you scribbled lyrics on napkins when you were deep in thought, the way your laughter could light up a room, the way your fingers gently strummed chords on the guitar as you hummed songs in the quiet of the night.

One evening, after a long day at the gym, Seungcheol invited you over to his apartment for your favorite routine: movie night. He’d recently bought a projector to set up in the living room, and tonight, he had picked a Studio Ghibli film, knowing you could never get enough of them.

“Tonight’s movie is Spirited Away,” Seungcheol announced, flopping onto the couch next to you, his head resting on the backrest, his hands softly moving your legs onto his lap. You settled against his warm body with your favorite blanket draped over you.

“Perfect,” you murmured, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I’m so glad I can always count on you for a Ghibli night.”

Seungcheol chuckled, reaching for the remote to start the movie. “I’ll never pass up an opportunity to watch Chihiro and Haku. But only because I know how much you love it.”

The movie began, and you both fell into the familiar routine of watching in comfortable silence, except for the occasional whisper of dialogue or your soft giggles during certain scenes. Seungcheol’s hand moved to yours, interlocking your fingers with his. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, a simple gesture, but it sent warmth through your entire body. It was those small moments of tenderness that you lived for.

…

As the credits rolled and the last notes of the soundtrack faded, you were still resting on him, eyes half-lidded.

Seungcheol turned to you, his expression serious for a moment. “Do you ever feel like… we’re too different? Like you’re too soft for this world? For me?”

You blinked, looking up at him with confusion. “What do you mean? You’re the strongest person I know. You fight for everything you want.”

He shook his head, the faintest shadow crossing his face. “No, love. I mean, the world I live in… it’s rough. I’m rough. I’m not used to this. You’re… delicate. You live in a world of softness, creativity, and beauty. And I’m just trying to protect that. Sometimes I wonder if I’m enough.”

You squeezed his hand gently and switched to sit on his lap so you could look him in the eyes. “You’re more than enough, Seungcheol. You’ve been more than enough for me since the day we met. I love you because of the way you are — strong, determined, protective. I never expected someone like you, but I’m so glad it’s you. You don’t have to change a single thing.”

Seungcheol’s lips quirked up at the corners, and for a moment, he looked like he was going to say something else — something deeper, something more vulnerable — but instead, he simply nodded. His arm draped over your shoulders again, and he pulled you in closer, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I’m glad it’s you, too,” he whispered. “I don’t deserve you, but I’ll never let you go.”

Weeks went by, and life returned to its easy rhythm. You continued to write your songs, most of which were inspired by moments you shared with Seungcheol. And Seungcheol continued to train — no less dedicated to his craft than ever before. But something had changed. He was softer now, less likely to hide his emotions behind that stoic mask. Whenever you were near, his eyes softened, and his hands were always reaching out for yours. It wasn’t just about love anymore; it was about companionship, about being two halves of a whole.

But, as with all good things, the calm couldn’t last forever.

It happened during a major fight, one that everyone knew would cement Seungcheol as the undisputed champion of his generation. It was a dangerous match — a title defense that had everyone on edge. Seungcheol was facing an opponent who was known for being as ruthless as he was quick. It was the kind of fight that could make or break a career, and the pressure weighed heavily on Seungcheol’s shoulders.

You were there, of course. You’d never miss one of his matches. You sat at the edge of your seat, his friends by your side, all watching him in the ring with bated breath. Every punch Seungcheol threw had your heart pounding in your chest, but you knew he could do this. He was Seungcheol. He was the Reaper.

But then, it happened.

A right hook. A punch that landed just wrong. You saw the way his opponent’s fist connected with Seungcheol’s jaw, and for a split second, you thought you saw his eyes lose focus. His body staggered, and then— crack. The sound of his head hitting the canvas was sickening.

“Cheol!” you screamed, jumping to your feet. The crowd around you seemed to freeze as Seungcheol lay there, his body unmoving for just a moment too long.

The referee was already counting. “One... two... three...”

Seungcheol groaned, his hand lifting off the mat, and the room exhaled in relief. You were still standing, your hands clutching the edge of the railing, eyes wide, heart in your throat.

It was hard to describe the raw panic that overtook you when you saw him struggle to regain his footing. He looked up at you, and there was that familiar spark in his eyes — even now, even after being knocked to the ground.

And then, just as the ref was about to count to ten, Seungcheol pushed himself up from the floor with a roar. His opponent barely had time to react before Seungcheol landed a devastating uppercut, knocking him out cold.

The bell rang.

Seungcheol had won.

But the celebration was muted. You rushed to the ring, pushing past every spectator and security, ignoring the chaos around you. You just needed to get to him.

Seungcheol was already sitting on the stool, his coach dabbing at his face with a towel. When he saw you, though, his whole face lit up. "My darling," he murmured, a small, tired smile tugging at his bruised lips.

Without a second thought, you rushed over to him, cupping his bruised face in your hands, inspecting the cuts along his jaw.

“You’re okay, right? Please, tell me you’re fine,” you asked, voice trembling as your fingers brushed over his cheek.

Seungcheol chuckled softly, his hand reaching up to rest on yours. “I’m fine, baby. Just a little beaten up, but I’ll be okay. You worry too much.”

“I just.. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

He looked at you with such warmth, such tenderness, that for a moment, it was just the two of you in the chaos of the arena.

“You’ll never have to worry about that,” he promised. “I’ll always come back to you, love. Always.”

...

The ride home from the match was quiet. You were both exhausted, but the adrenaline still buzzed in your veins. Seungcheol kept glancing at you, his gaze soft, even as he was lost in thought.

When you finally arrived at his apartment, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ll try not to get hit so hard next time.”

You laughed softly, your heart still racing. “Just promise me you’ll be careful, Cheol. You can’t keep pushing yourself this hard. I need you, okay?”

“I promise,” he whispered back, his lips brushing your forehead. “And I need you more than anything.”

The world outside might have been harsh, unpredictable, and dangerous, but in that moment, everything felt like it had fallen into place.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated! › anonymous review form & join my taglist

✎ author's note┆i dug that fic from the grave, hope you enjoy it nonetheless - kinda thinking of making a pt2 with more... mature content ?

@ credits┆huge thank you @kyeomofhearts for beta reading the hell outta this fic, it was A WHOLE LOT ☆彡 @ dividers┆by @coldxperience

‧₊ ᵎᵎ "CHERRY.zip" ⋅.*

[pajarinwrites]

favourites | choi seungcheol x reader

➳ afab!reader x seungcheol (technically fem!reader bc of the term 'oppa' but i don't believe in those reductive rules, i personally call people hyung/oppa and noona/eonnie based on vibes, thx for coming to my tedtalk)

➳ wc: 7.7k

➳ TAGS: um.. smut? MDNI, non!au, idol!cheol, friends2lovers

➳ WARNINGS: just smut, dudes, but pretty tame smut :3, oral (male receiving), fingering, pin sex (protected), cowgirl, lovey-dovey-ness BEWARE!, L-bombs dropped hehehehehe (can you tell this was entirely self-indulgent? // nicknames: baby, oppa (for him), love (for reader)

➳ AN: there was one instance of 'baby girl' in here but during the editing process the strength to leave it in (that's what he said) left me; I always try hard to also write stuff I'm not necessarily into bc I realise there's different preferences but boooyyy does that term give me the ick. :/ also, I obviously started this around 'lalali' times, finished drafting during 'Thunder' and only got around to final editing now. as a result, the timeline is a MESS! pls ignore that, thx, love u

masterlist

“You know, you should also take off your shirt more often,” was the first comment you made as you returned the laptop to Seungcheol, leaning against the couch behind you. The tone of your voice was teasing, searching for his gaze to add a wink. Just for good measure. To make sure he knew that you were just trying to pull his leg.

He giggled, avoiding your eyes in favour of scratching Kkuma behind the ears. She had trotted over to the two of you when you had first taken up residence on the living room floor. The pup had jumped into Cheol’s lap, snuggling up against his tummy. Now Kkuma was licking his hand as he was trying to pet her, her red bow on her head dangling precariously – come loose from all the affection she had been receiving from the two of you all evening.

Finally he asked, “You think?”

“Of course! Carats will love it.”

He was quiet, simply continuing to scratch Kkuma’s ears for a few seconds before replying, “I just don’t think I’m that kind of person. And after the injury and stuff…”

The silence sounded unfinished, so you waited for him to find his words and replete it.

“I should try harder for the fans…” he trailed off, his hands still absentmindedly rubbing his muscles. Reaching out your hand in, what you hoped was, a comforting gesture, you squeezed his shoulder.

“I’m sure Carats would rather see you healthy and happy. I was kidding earlier, Cheol. No one expects you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

He finally looked up, his lips jutting out in a pout. A very kissable pout, in all honesty. His voice came out equally pouty when he asked, “But don’t you think they’re expecting it a little bit? Like, hoping for it?”

You mused over his question, the doubt in his eyes making your chest constrict.

“I think they would be happy, of course. But they wouldn’t mind if you kept your shirt on and buttoned up.” 

Cheol’s expression still seemed unconvinced, so you hurried to add, “not to mention, it isn’t like couprangs are completely starved of your content. Remember that vacation photo of your bare back you posted not long ago? That was very sexy!”

Instead of a verbal response, Seungcheol merely cocked an eyebrow. It was hard to decide which expression – this or the pout – you found more attractive. Hoping that the burning of your cheeks wouldn’t give you away, you grinned widely. “See? Do this instead, and everyone will forget about whether you’re wearing a shirt or not!”

This finally got a laugh out of him, so full and honest that it jostled Kkuma in his lap. He cocked his eyebrow again, winking at you as you pretended to swoon. As you fell dramatically back against the couch, Cheol’s arm shot out, as if on instinct, to catch your head. His palm rested against the back of your head, the warmth radiating from it like a late summer bonfire. You didn’t move, simply tilting your head to look over at him.

“Are you re-enacting for me how Carats watch our videos?” He chuckled, eyes glued to yours as Kkuma tried to regain his attention by licking at his fingers furiously.

“Well, you should know what it’s like!”

“That’s how your friends react?”

“Me and my friends, yes,” you finally lifted your head again, Cheol’s touch following you for a second longer than strictly necessary.

“We’ve just spent thirty minutes watching music videos and you didn’t faint once.”

Before you could question if this was toeing the line too much, you had already replied with a joking “I only faint when you wink at me.”

Seungcheol gasped. “We just watched ‘LALALI’!”

You laughed at his expression of mock offence, as if you failing to faint at his wink reflected poorly on your character. Or on his acting. He was chasing your gaze when you turned to finally scratch an anxiously ignored Kkuma behind the ears, “I’m not going full-fan-girl-mode in front of you, Cheol.”

“Why not? We’re friends right?” When you looked up at the tone of his voice, he was still looking at you intently. His gaze seemed more intense than usual, somehow darker and purposeful. But it was gone within a second, leaving you to wonder whether it had only been your illustrious imagination. You simply shook your head in soft refusal, “trust me, you are not ready to see that. The only person I am fully unhinged with is Bora, and that’s just because she behaves the exact same way.”

“Oh, come on!” He was whining again, presumably wearing that heart-melting pout. So you decreed it safer to continue looking at Kkuma. Unfortunately, it only led him to lean in closer, cocking his head in an effort to squeeze into your line of vision. Even more unfortunately, this meant that, upon looking up, your face was mere inches from his. And if his pouting drew your eyes to his lips, that really couldn’t be considered your fault. Your eyes kept flickering between his pouty lips and the pleading gleam in his eyes. The stare-off lasted a moment too long before you remembered to lean away.

“I want to see you react to LALALI.”

“But we just watched it!”

“So? We just watch it again. I want to see your honest reactions,” there was just a beat of hesitation before he explained, “to know what Carats feel when they watch our music videos.”

While he had been talking, the pout had never left his face. On the contrary, Cheol had – further – taken to puffing out his cheeks, giving you a really hard time trying not to squish his face.

“You’re doing this on purpose!” You groan, throwing your head back. His hand shot out again.

“Of course,” he murmured, softly turning your face back towards him. When your eyes met, he dropped his hand, as if the back of your head had spontaneously spouted spikes. You had no way of knowing if it was because of your look of shock or because he realised he was sending signals that he had no intention of sending. 

Cheol handed you the laptop again, smiling as if nothing had happened. Which it hadn’t, technically.

“How about this, I’ll show you the new unit song that Mingyu and I have been working on. Something new to react to. And there may or may not be winking involved.” His tone was unbearably teasing. If you looked at him now, you were sure he would just wink at you again.

You knew that Cheol knew that he had you convinced the second he had employed that puppy pout. Why pretend any longer that you were putting up a fight?

Your voice sounded far off to yourself when you said, “Anything for the fans, huh?”

A familiar nagging voice returned, reminding you not to read too much into his actions or his interest in your reactions. Reminding you that Seungcheol had explained himself. The two of you were friends. You were helping him get a better understanding of the fandom. With the added benefit of boosting his ego a little. That’s why he was interested. That’s why you were watching music videos early. Not because you were special or he felt differently about you.

A sigh escaped you as you clicked through the files he indicated. Seungcheol shifted even closer to you, Kkuma whingeing in annoyance at all the movement. Suddenly the air felt stiff as Cheol’s thigh pressed up against yours, his arm on the couch behind you, wrapped around your shoulders, so he could lean in closer and watch alongside you. If you turned your head to the side, you would be able to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“If you’re sitting this close, you’ll probably get smacked in the face a bunch of times. I have very physical reactions.”

“Hmmm,” he mused, as if moving away was a difficult decision to make, “I think I’ll be able to block your flailing arms.”

You gasped in pretend offence, “Flailing? My arms don’t flail! They move gracefully and accurately! How long have you known me?”

He laughed again, full-bodied, in a way that vibrated through his whole body. The feeling diffused through your body from where your thighs were pressed against each other’s.

“Years. But apparently I’ve also never seen you react honestly to a K-Pop video.”

“Well, if I did, you would have gotten jealous!” You meant it in jest, nudging his shoulder and winking cockily for good measure. To your surprise, instead of meeting your joke, Seungcheol’s eyes darkened. The small yes that he replied with sounded entirely too serious. Maybe it was the late hour, the bottle of wine you had shared over the course of dinner or the physical proximity. Whatever it was, something in the air tonight had Seungcheol gently poking the existing boundaries of your relationship. Or, perhaps, one of the aforementioned factors simply had your wishful thinking take the helm, hoping to see signs that weren’t actually there. 

Fuck it, you thought, looking over through hooded eyes and whispering, “Don’t be, you know you’re always my favourite.”

You wiggled your eyebrows, leaning back immediately to make sure you weren’t making him uncomfortable with the closeness. Turning back to face the laptop screen, you missed the way Seungcheol leaned in for a second, lips parted slightly. You missed how he blinked himself out of the stupor. You missed how his eyes traced your profile as you started the video, his gaze softening at the vision of you in his arms.

Instead, you were greeted with the opening scene of the new GyuCheol subunit’s music video. The intro started, you tapping your foot along to the rhythm. You made it all the way to the first solo shot of Mingyu before Cheol reached over and pressed fast forward.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, slapping his hand away, “I thought you wanted my reactions?”

“Yeah, but we can skip the less important parts.”

“How dare you suggest that Kim Mingyu is unimportant! He’s my favourite!”

“I thought I was your favourite!” Cheol’s tone was somewhere between indignation and genuine upset.

“All of you are my favourites!”

“That’s definitely not how favourites work.”

“Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it? Because—”

“No,” he interrupted you, quick fingers jump across the keyboard to pause the video.

“Huh?” You started, “I’m sorry, what?”

Seungcheol’s hand slammed the laptop shut and pulled it off the coffee table; he threw the device onto the other side of the L-shaped couch beside you. Cheol’s free hand came up to turn you towards him.

“What are you—”

“You don’t get to see it again until you’ve told me who your actual favourite is.”

Eyes met, yours wide in surprise, his narrowed in conviction. He leaned back to give you more space, but wrapped his fingers around your wrist, pulling your hand towards him and away from reaching, futilely, for the laptop.

“Okay, first of all,” you started, attempting to tug your hand back, but Seungcheol’s grip remained firm. “First of all, you’re the one who wanted me to watch this!”

Cheol only grinned, shrugging his shoulders.

“And secondly, aren’t you the guy that said he would only get jealous if Carats liked other groups, not other members?”

“I said that?”

“Yes you did!”

“Hmm,” he cocked his head as if he was considering your words, “I don’t think I did.”

“Ugh, you incorrigible gaslighter!”

Cheol giggled, dropping his head to your shoulder. He mumbled against your collarbone, “That statement only goes for regular Carats…”

His breath tickled against your skin as you rolled your eyes, pretending like your heart wasn’t going to jump out through your throat any second. It was difficult to stay mad at him when he was cuddling into your side like that.

“So I’m not a regular Carat?”

“No,” he whispered. If it wasn’t for the soft exhale against your skin, you would have missed his reply entirely. Trying to lean in closer to catch the rest of his sentence, you realised there was nowhere closer to go. You still made out his next words, “You’re special.”

You’re special. It wasn’t a side effect of the alcohol or your imagination. You were special to him.

If things had turned out differently, you would have attributed what followed to a cruel joke of fate. A temporary lapse of judgement brought on by the booze or the drowsiness or the comfortable warmth of his body next to yours. But with the way things went, it was more of a stroke of divine intervention, a heavenly kick in the butt.

Whatever it was that made you lean forward, tilt your head, and press your lips to his, it somehow bypassed all revision by your disciplined, fully-developed and entirely in-control frontal lobe. Or she was betraying you. The bitch.

At any rate, your lips were now pressed against Choi Seungcheol. Choi Seungcheol – close friend, certified insanely attractive person, and leader of one of the biggest boybands on the planet. You would have pulled away the second these thoughts occurred to you. But of course your brain was too slow, no surprise there. Before you could react and pull away, Cheol’s hands were on you. One rested lightly on your cheek, the other tangled into your hair, effectively keeping you from moving out of his space.

Your cognitive functions were still stuck on the fact that he hadn’t turned away and rejected you softly when he cocked his head and nibbled at your bottom lip. At that point any thought of rationality flew out the window. You gave in easily, finally melting into his touch, into his heat. It was seeping through his clothes, small sparks of warmth travelling through your body and lodging in your chest until it felt like there was a candle ignited behind your ribcage.

Your arms snaked around his neck, soft and loose, as if the warmth was actively melting all of your muscles. If you still had had a faculty of rational thought, you would have cringed at the frankly embarrassing whine escaping you at the feeling of his tongue and his hands and his warmth pressed against you. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, both of you turned halfway, Kkuma trapped between your bodies, so you had to move apart much sooner than you would have liked. Seungcheol gave you no way to gauge his expression, immediately burying his face in your neck again. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, coming out in slight pants. The noise that escaped him was somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.

“Sorry,” he eventually breathed.

“For what?” You giggled. Maybe you would have been worried by the implications of that word, if he hadn’t still been hanging off your neck like a baby monkey.

“I think I’m a little drunk…”

You didn’t say anything in reply. Knowing his tolerance and how long it had been since you two had finished the wine, you seriously doubted that statement. So you remained quiet, giving him space to figure out what he was really trying to say. Cheol remained silent until you threaded your fingers into his hair, at which point he sighed blissfully.

“Don’t stop,” he muttered.

“Do you want to call it a night?”

He grumbled into your neck in a way that made your heart constrict. Kkuma, too, seemed to sense her daddy’s distress and stood up between the two of you. Her little paws were trying to find purchase on you while trying to lick Cheol’s face in consolation.

“Since when are you so shy?”

He stayed silent for a while, just leaning into your hand that was still carding through his hair. Eventually, he mumbled into your side. When you asked him to repeat himself, he sighed, relapsing into silence. When he spoke up again, it sounded nothing like his first sentence.

“I’m not actually drunk anymore.”

You giggled, “then why did you say that?”

“Because maybe you hated that?” You could tell from the tone of his voice that he was pouting again.

“What? Making out with you?”

He whined, which just made you chuckle again.

“Did you get the impression that I hated it?”

“Mmmmhh… no…?”

“No,” you confirmed. He smiled against your skin and lifted his head to look up with soft eyes. Just studying your face for a few seconds, he finally reached up to your chin, beckoning you closer. “Then,” he murmured against your lips, “is it okay if we keep going?”

In lieu of an answer, you connected your lips with his. The two of you toppled back against the couch and Cheol’s arm locked around your waist, pulling you into his lap. Poor Kkuma had to escape with a quick jump and a yelp but neither of you were paying much attention. You were too busy focusing on the way Seungcheol’s thighs felt under you, how his hands left trails all over your body, and how firm his shoulders were when you grazed your flat palms over them. They continued their path down his arms, over his biceps and back up, one hand snaking across his back, the other running down his chest. He grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away sharply. But when you pulled back, his eyes were full of adoration.

“You good?”

He nodded, his eyes raking over your body, his hands following at a slightly slower pace. He sighed, “You’re just so…”

“I’m hardly the pinnacle of hot bodies,” you laughed.

“No, you’re perfect.” His tone was soft, matter-of-fact.

“Look who’s talking.”

He was blushing immediately, incapable of fighting the smile that crept onto his face.

“I should work on my abs a little more fi—”

“Not this again!” You reached forward, squishing his cheeks between your hands, and leaned in menacingly.

“If you talk about my favourite person like that again, I will have to ddakbam you!”

He laughed, “okay, okay. No reason to threaten me.”

Seungcheol smiled softly, his hands running down your sides and resting on your hips. He still didn’t seem fully convinced, as if scared you would change your mind once you saw him out of his t-shirt. As if he wasn’t incredibly fit.

“We don’t have to go any further,” you reassured him.

“Do you want to?”

You smiled softly, more concerned with his comfort than your own simmering desire.

“Do you want to, Cheollie?” You could watch his expression darken at the use of that nickname. Formerly, you attributed it to your imagination, but this wasn’t the first time you had been able to observe him react like this. It was the exact reason you were calling him by it right now.

“I want to pick you up, carry you to my bedroom and just have my way with you.”

You were smirking. “What’s stopping you?”

“You,” he huffed, “you haven’t given me the green light yet.”

Catching his lips in a short kiss, you whispered against them, “I really really want you to take me to your bedroom and have your way with me.”

You could feel his smirk, rather than see it.

“Alright. What my girl wants, my girl gets.”

He didn’t even give you time to calm your fluttering heart at his choice of words before he picked you up, his strong arms wrapped around you. He got up with you in his arms, and as he carried you towards the bedroom, there was nothing but wonder in his expression, his eyes glued to your face.

Cheol stopped in front of his bed, surprising you by laying you down softly. As he crowded you against the mattress, one biceps supporting his weight beside your head, you could watch his expression change in a beat. His gaze, so adoring a second ago, darkened, roving over your features like he was trying to take in everything at once. You were tempted to turn your head and nibble at the bulging muscle next to you, but his eyes were holding you in place. He grinned as he leaned closer, kissing along your jawline while drawing one knee up, slotting it between your legs. As he caught your lips in a kiss, suddenly uncontrolled and heated, his knee kept sliding up until it pressed against your core, eliciting a soft moan from you that Cheol swallowed readily.

His hands made quick work of the old t-shirt of his that you were wearing, tossing it aside before resuming the kiss. You sighed at the feeling of his hands finally meeting bare skin as they ran up and down your body, toying with the hem of your old sports bra. He was panting as he let up, resting his forehead against yours.

“Still sure of this?”

“Sure as anything.”

“If you waited a few months, you’d definitely have a better view,” he tried to joke. But his tone betrayed him. You saw the glimmer of real insecurity behind his façade.

“How about this,” you asked, pushing against his chest softly. Cheol went without resistance, rolling over onto his back as you straddled his lap. He was looking up at you with a mix of amusement and intrigue.

Undeterred, you proposed, “I take care of you first. And help you realise how fucking attractive you are. And then we can go back to you having your way with me.”

He chuckled, hands squeezing your hips to move you over a little. You had to push down  the smugness at the feeling of his already rock-hard cock poking against your thigh. This wasn’t about you or about control. This was about showing Seungcheol how goddamn hot (and blind) he was. So you decided to give him a show. First, you got rid of the meddling bra. Then, slowly dragging your hands over your body, you swayed from side to side, rocking against the obvious tent in his pants. His eyes were tracking your every move, dark and mesmerised; his grip on your hips tightened. Your left hand found its way to your tits, massaging it. The other dragged down Seungcheol’s chest again, slowly and deliberately as you held eye contact with him. This time, he didn’t stop you. On the contrary, his breath hitched as you leaned down, pressing a row of featherlight kisses up the column of his throat.

“Baby,” he breathed, the sound just on the verge of impatience.

“Hm,” you hummed against his throat, ignoring him as your hands continued their ministrations. They were covering every inch of his upper body, smoothing over his arms and his t-shirt, up and down, until they reached the hem. You tugged at it, cocking a questioning eyebrow. Seungcheol’s eyes found yours, still blown wide. He nodded wordlessly, preferring to focus on chasing your lips instead of concerning himself with your hands. Exactly where you wanted him. You grinned, meeting his lips and giving him what he wanted, moaning into his mouth as his hands shifted lower and started kneading the flesh of your ass. He lifted himself up, so you could pull the shirt over his head, and used the opportunity to pull your body down, grinding you over his erection. In reaction, you used a not insignificant part of your own strength to push him back down. He frowned at the loss of friction.

“I’m not done looking… and kissing you, all over…” you trailed off, pouting and batting your eyelashes for extra effect. Cheol grinned.

“Who am I to say no to you?”

You smiled brightly, your hands wandering downwards from his shoulders over his chest and stomach. Your eyes trailed them, raking over every inch of bare skin you could see. You were sure there was something akin to hunger in your eyes. You hoped Cheol could see it too.

“Wow, you look good,” you murmured, almost to yourself, when you finally leaned down to continue the trail of kisses you had formerly abandoned, by fault of his t-shirt. You picked it up at his pulse point, continuing down his body.

His amusement vanished, breath growing shallower by the second. One of his hands entangled itself in your hair, loosely. You smiled, kissing downwards from his navel.

“You’re so adorable…” you looked up at his tone, and he cradled your face, “wanna keep going, pretty girl?”

The eagerness must have been evident in your eyes because Seungcheol chuckled at your expression. He made quick work of his pants, unbuckling his belt and shoving them down to free his dick. His hand found its way back into your hair, tighter this time. You went easily when he guided you downwards, eagerly pressing close to him, sticking out your tongue to lick a stripe up the underside of his cock, tracing the vein there. Cheol groaned above you, tugging at your hair lightly.

You smiled, kitten-licking at the head as your hands trailed over his thighs. For a few minutes you mouthed at his cock, taking your time; taking pleasure in the way Cheol’s groans kept growing more and more agitated while you pressed your tongue into his slit, one hand moving to squeeze and tug at his balls.

“Stop… ngh… stop teasing, baby.”

You smirked at the expression on his beautiful face – eyebrows knit together, his bottom lip red and swollen from the way he kept biting it in pleasure. His tone was still commanding, but you found it difficult to take him seriously while he was looking mussed up like this.

“Or what?” You asked, finally earning eye contact.

Cheol’s pupils were blown out, focusing on you with unmistakeable intention. His hand tightened again, and you couldn’t suppress the moan that slipped past your lips at the sharp tug. He mirrored your grin, a wild quality to his expression, “Keep misbehaving and you’ll get to find out.”

You held eye contact as you lowered your mouth around him, just the head for now. As your tongue swirled around him, one of your hands squeezed around the base of his cock, the other still paying sweet attention to his balls. Another smile and a wink, and Seungcheol (finally) broke. Contrary to your expectations, the pressure in your hair pulled you off instead of shoving you down.

“Cheol…?”

“Safe word.”

You gulped, “Uhm… red?”

“And when your mouth is otherwise occupied?” He cocked an eyebrow, a devilish smirk on his lips.

“I’ll tap out.”

“Good girl,” he cooed, soothing one loving hand over your cheek. “You’re still sure of this?”

When you simply nodded in reply, his hand returned to your locks, shoving you down in a singular abrupt movement. You offered no resistance as you took him into your mouth.

A few shallow thrusts, one short hesitation, “Think you can take more?”

Answering would have been a futile endeavour, so you opted for simply moaning around his length, pressing your tongue against the underside of his dick with intention. Trying desperately to shuffle even closer to him, you became acutely aware of the pooling wetness in your panties. You were forced to adjust again in order to be able to grind yourself against the floor, in desperate search of any kind of friction.

“Fuck,” he swore, forcing you to let your jaw go slack as he pushed deeper. Your eyes rolled back, looking at him where he was sitting above you. Cheol’s eyes were zeroed in on where your lips were stretched around his cock as his chest heaved with every breath. His hips bucked upward, inadvertently, judging by the way he apologised, his free hand stroking your cheek.

The hand that was resting in your hair tightened, holding you in place firmly as he began to move in earnest. You gagged, focusing on breathing through your nose, letting your tongue push against that vein as he lifted his hips off the bed and continued to fuck your mouth. Your hands tightened around his thighs, loosing track of time amongst the lewd sounds and the dim bedroom lighting, until he pulled you off him, telling you to give him a second.

You continued grinding yourself down on the floor, still chasing that stimulation until a small tug drew your eyes upwards to him. He was panting, staring at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were there, kneeling on his bedroom floor before him. Cheol opened his mouth but you only slapped his hand away. It was still holding you back. Disregarding his silent command, you dove back down to suck on his balls, your hand wrapping around his cock tighter than strictly necessary. As much as you had enjoyed him treating you like you were fragile and precious, it was high time he got what he wanted. After all, during your years of friendship you had become first-hand witness to the way he enjoyed taking charge. With how riled up he was, it was only a question of pressing a few calculated buttons before he would inevitably throw you onto the bed and finally make good on his promise. When your mouth returned to his member, he hissed, his hips twitching forward unwillingly.

“Sto— ah, shit, baby…” Cheol pushed you back, stern eyes. They were dark, caught between anger and arousal as he growled, “What did I just say?”

You bit your lip, taking your sweet time with a reply. In the most saccharine tone you asked: “Stop?”

“And did you listen?”

A shake of the head, still grinning. It didn’t seem to please him to see you so happy with yourself for disobeying him.

“You don’t want me to fuck you, huh? You can just tell me.”

Your eyes widened. Well, that was an unexpected development. If you hadn’t been so keyed up yourself, maybe you would have noticed the desperation in his gaze, the raging need to feel you against him, the impatience to finally take you. But as it stood, the tone of his voice sent you into a frenzied sort of worry. With a frantic shake of your head, you pawed at his skin, kissing up his torso once more.

“No, please. Cheollie, I’ll be good.”

Making your way up his chest, you were rewarded with a ribald look in his eyes. Gone was the insecurity, gone was the hesitancy. What remained was fucked out Cheol, his hair standing up in all directions – curtesy of your roaming hands; his chest heaving and flushed; the air around him generally bordering on desperate. He caught your jaw while you were making your way up, guiding you to his lips and crashing them against yours. This must be delirium, you thought, as he licked into your mouth, bit at your bottom lip, mirrored your whines.

“Cheollie…” you mewled again, feeling so evidently how that nickname affected him, especially coming from you. If only he would finally—

His hand loosened its iron grip on your jaw, both arms sneaking around you, grabbing at your ass. Seungcheol hoisted you up, practically throwing you over his shoulder onto the bed.

You pushed up onto your elbows, but a short, decisive shove of Seungcheol sent you back again.

“How about this time you stay down, hm, baby?” His eyes said that there was no debate to be had. For a second, you contemplated it, just for the hell of. Just to see what his reaction would be if you still refused to listen like his good girl. But, really, there was no more merit to his. This was the exact position you had been aiming for. Not to mention, his last threat still hung heavy in the air, and you weren’t going to take any chances or delays.

You laid back, one hand trailing up your inner high, sighing softly under his gaze. Cheol’s own hand, so much digger in direct contrast, followed the trail you were marking until he pushed you fingers aside in impatience. He dragged your old sweatpants down your legs (why were you still wearing those?), immediately resting a finger over your core.

“Hypocrite,” he grinned,” you make such a big show of teasing me, when you’re this soaked yourself.”

“I never pretended you weren’t affecting me,” you breathed, holding his eyes, determined for him to see your candour. He smirked.

“That so?”

He leaned down, lips attaching to your chest as the hand on your soaked centre finally started to move. Despite the small relief it brought, Seungcheol stubbornly refused to push your panties aside. You whined, threading your fingers into his hair. There was barely space in your head to resent him for insisting on teasing you after you had been so generous.

“Is this payback?” You whispered, desperation seeping into your tone. Cheol’s only response was the smirk you could feel against your skin. He continued to touch you, the pressure just enough to be teasing, never enough to bring you to your peak. With the breath of his name and another tug at his hair, you kept pleading with him. Cheol wasn’t usually able to resist your wishes.

He chuckled at your poorly veiled attempts. “You should be happy I wasn’t in the mood for actual punishment.”

“Cheoool,” you moaned, drawing out his name and grinding against his hand, you can’t just say that.”

“Don’t tell me you’re into that, baby.”

“If you’d finally put your fingers or dick where they belong, you would’ve felt exactly how ‘into that’ I am.” Undeterred, you kept grinding against him as Seungcheol let out an undeterminable sound. Somewhere between exasperation, regret, and slipping self-control. Most importantly, it finally got him to pull your panties down your legs and push your further up onto the bed. He followed immediately, resting one elbow next to your head and shifting his weight. It allowed his other hand to return to your core, with an added sense of urgency.

“We’re going to have to change the bedding,” he whispered as two of his fingers finally found your entrance. Your arms wrapped around his broad back as you tried hiding your face in his shoulder, considering for a second to bite down on his pretty skin. Maybe next time you would discuss it beforehand and get the green light.

“Feels good, huh?” His voice pulled your side-tracked mind back to the present. He sounded more smug than you had ever heard him. As he continued slowly fucking you open, he leaned down to whisper directly into your ear. “After all, it’s where they belong,” he parroted.

Robbed of all words, you could only close your eyes and throw your head back, focusing on the feeling of his fingers moving inside you. You heard him chuckle in response. The pad of his hand found your clit, exerting pressure while his fingers kept pumping in and out of your heat. Despite your continuous pants and moans, he felt the need to repeat his earlier query. This time, a distinct smugness snug into his tone, “feels good, baby?”

Apparently that hadn’t been a rhetorical question. His fingers stilled, until you forced yourself to open your eyes, meeting Seungcheol’s inquisitorial gaze. For a moment, you contemplated teasing him more, asking where the cocky promise of punishment had gone. But something in his gaze gave you halt.

“Feels so good, “ you murmured, holding eye contact. Your hand cupped his face, thumb brushing over his cheek. You felt the burning need to pull him in for a kiss, deep and honest and loving. Both of you groaned into it. When you broke apart, you whispered against his lips, “Now can you please get back to fucking me, oppa.”

He smiled down at you, shaking his head in disbelief. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.” His smile turned into a smirk as you gave him your best innocent doe eyes. Seungcheol laughed outright.

“It’s working, love,” he admitted, eyes clearly stating the unsaid: two can play that game. The new nickname sent shivers up your spine. Or maybe it was simply Cheol’s frank tone or the unmistakeable emotion in his eyes.

“You’re stunning,” he continued. His hand left your middle as he leaned back a little. You didn’t even have time to  protest at the distance before both his hands grabbed your hips, pulling you towards him, your core meeting his thigh. An involuntary moan escaped you. Immediately, you started grinding against Seungcheol’s thigh as his hands wandered over your body, mimicking your earlier movements.

“I know I was talking big game just now, but I need you to know that I lo— I really care about you.” His words were only half-registering. You were too busy pushing your body upwards into the warmth of his hands. Only humming in agreement, you simply pulled him down by the nape of neck.

He moaned into the kiss, giving up resistance quickly in favour of wrapping his big arms around you. Flipping both of you over like it was nothing, he pulled you into his lap, your body flush against his. The two of you stayed entangled, lost in each other’s touch for hell knows how long. It was only when Seungcheol started grinding up against you, his hard-on painfully evident, that you were made aware of any passage of time at all. In the end, it was him that finally broke the kiss, red in the face and panting like he’d just run a marathon.

“As much fun as this is, if I don’t get inside in the next few minutes, I think I might actually go insane.” You smiled and nodded, making clear that the feeling was mutual.

“There’s condoms in the top drawer.” 

He nodded to the bedside table. You leaned over, refusing to leave his lap, so he steadied you with his hands on your hips. Opening the drawer, you had to hold back a giggle at the wild assortment. There’d be time to tease him about it. Later.

You grabbed a normal one, but exclaimed, “Oh! Flavoured! My favourite.”

“Sorry, should I have suggested that earlier,” he looked a little chastised but you shook your head.

“There’s always a next time,” you said with a wink as you rolled the condom down his length. He groaned in response, whether to your touch or the promise of a next time, you weren’t sure.

“You want it like this?” He asked, once you had resituated yourself on his lap. As if you needed clarification, he ground up into your soaked folds, his dick catching on your clit deliciously. Barely holding on by a thread, you nodded enthusiastically.

“Is this okay for your knee?”

Instead of a reply, Seungcheol scooped one arm under you, biceps bulging as he lifted you up. You had to fight demons not to get lost in the endless possibilities your imagination was offering you about that, instead choosing to keep your wits about yourself in order to help him inside of you. The manhandling daydreams would have to wait until later, or maybe just until that promised next time.

Cheol’s other arm flung around you, stabilising you as you started to sink down on his cock. Judging by the look on his face, he was having as much trouble as you staying focused while you sunk down, centimetre by centimetre. You had thought he hadn’t heard your earlier question or simply deigned it unnecessary to answer, when he buried his face in your neck as he said, “if I have to ruin my knee again just to fuck you right, so be it.”

The way you moaned his name in response, made him twitch inside you and momentarily lose all focus. You slipped through his grasp, taking his last few inches at once. The head of his cock hit you deeper than you would have thought possible, and it knocked all the wind out of both of you. Cheol threw his head back with a groan and gripped your hips like his life depended on it.

“Fuck, baby, gimme a second,” he whispered, pressing his lips against yours softly.

You grinned, squeezing around him as you teased, “need some time to adjust, baby?”

At the feeling of your pussy constricting around him, Cheol’s breath hitched. He searched for your gaze, his expression itself unsure whether it should be annoyed or pleading. In response, you only cocked an eyebrow, grinding down against him. It was a rare occasion to get Choi Seungcheol this meek, his big puppy eyes looking up at you. And while you thought it was heart-warming he was trying to be careful with you, you also thought it would be a waste of those perfectly huge arms to keep things this vanilla. So, while you watched his expression continue to falter as your arms snaked around his broad shoulders, you leaned in, kissing a torturously slow line of kisses along the side of his neck to his ear, to whisper, “please move, oppa. I want to feel you.”

You punctuated your statement with a sharp rut against his pelvis. He practically growled as he grabbed your ass roughly, holding you up slightly so he could fuck up into you at a punishing pace. Moaning, you dropped forward, leaning against his chest in an effort to ease the strain for him, but equally keen to egg him on more. You kept whispering his name in his ear as Cheol continued to bully his cock into your heat, hitting all the right spots with every stroke. You met every stroke, managing to find friction against his skin that dragged deliciously against your clit.

“Oh my god, Cheollie,” you whined, eyes screwing close as the arousal mounted and you could feel your core constrict. He groaned, long and drawn out, seemingly just as overwhelmed at the tightening sensation as you.

Barely able to form a full sentence, he asked, “you close, baby?” His question was punctuated by his thrusts, coming out in syncopation with his movements. You hummed in reply, a long string of desperate cries of ‘yesyesyes’ tumbling from your lips.

Cheol’s grip tightened impossibly as he continued fucking up into you, his arms starting to shake with the effort. You clawed at his back when he gave a few more sharp thrusts, each increasing the white, hot feeling bubbling in your core, winding you higher and higher. As you felt your core tighten, his lips found yours again, desperate and hungry, biting and moaning into your mouth like a man possessed.

“Come for me,” he panted, somewhere between commanding and pleading, “come on, baby. Come on my cock, be good for me, yeah?”

You couldn’t begin to fathom a reply, head vacant of anything except for Cheol’s last few words, playing on repeat as the pleasure exploded through you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you barely registered Cheol stuttering out a groan as he came into the condom, rocking both of you through your orgasms. In the aftershocks of it, you simply sacked forward against him. After a few breaths, he heaved you off of his lap and pitched himself forward, landing on top of you with his full weight. The air was pressed out of your lungs upon impact, leading you to smack him across the back of the head with little conviction.

Barely audible, you exclaimed, “Choi Seungcheol! Do you have any idea how heavy those muscles are?”

You tried to wiggle free, but Seungcheol snuck his arms fully around your middle, tightening his grip. He lifted his head from your shoulder, looking at you with a smug grin, “just give me a second, yeah? Then I’m ready for feedback.”

You snorted, trying to somehow manoeuvre his body off of yours, but he had your arms pinned to your sides.

“Cheol,” you whined, “I should go to the toilet.”

“Why bother?”

“It’s important to pee after sex,” you insisted, rolling your eyes. Making another attempt at wriggling free, you were stopped in your tracks when he murmured, “you can go once we’re finished.”

Too fucked out to think of a proper comeback, you just said, “we’re not finished?”

“You were the one who brought up a ‘next time’.”

“Yeah, next time, as in, like, next week or something…”

You cocked an eyebrow at him, receiving no response. Cheol just looked at you, expression remaining blissfully relaxed, pupils blown wide.

“We can also do it again next week, but you were so excited about those flavoured condoms.” He was smirking now, holding your gaze and wiggling his eyebrows.

You giggled, shaking your head. For a few seconds you pretended to mull it over before stating, “I guess you deserve a reward.”

This made him laugh, the sound reverberating through both your ribcages. Cheol leaned up a bit from where his head was resting against your collarbone, one hand turning your face towards him. He pressed his lips against yours, soft and sweet until you bit his bottom lip, slipping your tongue into his mouth. You used the welcome distraction to finally pull one arm free from his grasp, then broke the kiss. He simply continued to stare at you, so you used your newly liberated limb to brush some hair out of his face. He blushed.

Smirking, you imitate his earlier tone, “I lo— care about you, too.”

Seungcheol pouted, burying his face in your shoulder again. Despite his whining, you could feel the corners of his mouth lift. He shifted upwards, hiding against your hair to whisper, “you want me to say it? I’ll say it. Right now.”

Cheol pressed his lips against the soft skin there, lingering for a bit longer.

“You don’t have to,” you finally said, “I don’t want you to say it just to make me happy. I want you to mean it.”

He tried pulling you even closer, a futile endeavour, given there was no space between you currently. Almost too low to hear, he murmured, “I could’ve said it after the first four months, and I still would’ve meant it.” You cart your fingers through his hair, waiting for him to continue. “I just didn’t want to put you on the spot.”

You took his face in your hands, nose brushing against his. Without breaking eye contact you said, “I love you.” 

He crashed his lips against yours, hands pawing at your sides.

“I love you, too”—with his free hand he pushed the both of you back up, manoeuvring you into a lotus position. “Let me show you just how much.”

You laughed, “will your knee be okay?”

“I can get a new knee.”

[hansolsticio]

são tantos ângulos interessantes...

[gyuhub]

my sleeping pill

after a long day, mingyu’d just want to come home to you and cuddle until you both fall asleep; you’re more than happy to oblige. but as he flops down to the bed and squirms closer to you, the way his body tenses and sags would catch your attention. so, as he cuddles into you, face buried in the crook of your neck, you call out his name. he answers with a soft hum. a soft smile finds it way to your face and you dip your head a bit to level with his.

your lips busy themselves with his as one of your hands travel down the expanse of his torso, caressing the soft but tired skin, until you stop just above the waistband of his sweatpants. mingyu sighs into the kiss as you slip your hand past the garter and his boxers, palming his hardening cock. he’d start whining the longer you stalled, eventually hiding his blushing face in your chest, making you chuckle.

you decide to cut him slack and move down his body, kneeling beside him as you pull out his member from his pants. mingyu releases a mewl when you kitten-lick his sensitive head; his chest rises and falls rapidly as the pleasure in the pit of his stomach increases. you smile softly before poking out your tongue again, this time to lick the underside from base to tip. the shaky breath mingyu lets out only feeds your pride. he finds enough strength to call out to you, though his voice is wavering and whining. “baby- baby, please, i need to cum, please make me cum.”

and really, how could you ever say no to him? especially when he’s so good, begging and asking so nicely. you take his head into your mouth, sucking gently and softly, your tongue licking and prodding at the slit every now and then; one is hand wrapped around his shaft, pumping slowly, while the other is holding his hips down, fingers tracing small patterns into his honey skin. you look up at him through your lashes, an adoring smile breaking out when you see how deep he is in pleasure- eyebrows furrowed, eyes scrunched closed while his lips part in a silent moan.

you rest your head on his thigh while your hand pumps him faster, eliciting a long and high pitched whine from his cherry lips. mingyu’s hand scrambles for your free one. you hold it and intertwine your fingers. squeezing your hand, he finally moans out. “i’m gonna c-cum, g-gonna cum, b-baby, p-please-”

you latch your lips to his head again, pumping faster as you swirl your tongue on the tip, sucking gently. with your coercion, he cums in your mouth as whines and moans escape him, chest heaving and hand squeezing yours. once you swallow and he’s ridden his high, you detach from him- not without protests from mingyu, but you manage. even through his dazed and sleepy state, he reaches out for you, grabby hands that make you giggle and coo at him. you sit next to him, towel in hand, and start cleaning him up gently, careful because you’re pretty sure he can’t handle another round.

mingyu nuzzles his face into your chest while you play with his hair, kisses of thanks landing on whatever exposed skin he could reach. soon enough, he’s snoring, and with a soft smile you peck his temple and drift off to sleep yourself.

[gyuhub]

I LOVE THE EIFFEL TOWER...!

anon: having gyucheol fuck you at the same time but you can’t be loud because maybe you’re in a bathroom at a party or someone is asleep next door...

"be fucking quiet," cheol hisses as he delivers shallow but quick thrusts to your cunt, the supple flesh of your ass bouncing just the way he likes. "wonwoo is right next door."

so maybe you shouldn't have accepted mingyu's bootycall knowing damn well his roommate would be peacefully sleeping at this hour. and maybe you shouldn't have told him the little tidbit fact that you find seungcheol hot a few weeks prior. maybe then you wouldn't be stuffed in both ends with tears streaking your face, gagging all over mingyu's cock, while your pussy weeps arousal down your thighs and all over seungcheol's front.

"unless you want him to wake up and join us, hm?" you look up at the younger of the two through your wet lashes, seeing a smug smirk on his handsome features. he doesn't stop fucking your face or running his damn mouth. "i mean, we could wake him up, baby. just need you to moan a li-"

"like hell i'm letting wonwoo ruin my fun, he can get his turn next time." cheol huffs, but the only thing you can process is wonwoo's hypothetical turn. you clench around seungcheol's girth at the thought, and this doesn't go unnoticed. "does that turn you on, doll? thinking about not two but three cocks using you?"

you only moan around mingyu in response, your attempts at nodding doing nothing but shove him deeper down your throat. with a fistful of hair, he holds you there for a few seconds while cheol continues his desperate ramming. satisfied at the feeling of you swallowing around him (though cheol fucking you still caused you to bob a little bit), gyu continues fucking your face, watching as your lips stretched out to accommodate his thickness, thinking that no doubt your pussy is doing the same for his best friend.

seungcheol repeatedly prods against the spongy spot in you, and suddenly you're seeing stars, your legs are giving out on you, and your hands braced on mingyu's hips aren't enough to hold you up. reacting quickly, the men catch you before you fully crumble to the floor: cheol holds you up by the waist while gyu grips your forearm with his free hand. a small, taunting laugh leaves cheol's lips.

"god, look at you," he starts, cock twitching deep inside you. "just have to have both slutty little holes stuffed, don't you, doll?"

"when you told me you thought cheollie's cute, i just knew, babygirl," mingyu joins in, smugly grinning down at you while you once again still to deepthroat his cock. "i just knew you were thinking of this. you have to have us both because you're a little slut, aren't you? our little slut."

have dirty thoughts about gyucheol? let's talk about them and slut out with me here! peep the title color 😁

[coupsiesss]

anyone else rewind to look at cheol's hand or are u normal

[hemmofox13]

[sanhanie]

my muse | x.mh

MDNI 18+ CONTENT

a/n: first fic being back and im pretty hyped for it :) hope you all enjoy it <3

fic: artist!bff!minghao x muse!reader

word count: 1512

genre: kinda fluffy at the start, mostly smut.

warnings: p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up.), minghao has a big dick, implied squirting, minghao calls reader baby, lots of teasing(g+r), uhm i think that's it idk

you’ve known minghao for as long as you could remember. walking to school turning into driving to it, hanging out 5 out of the 7 days of the week, sharing same hobbies. you did everything together and as you got into college, that didn’t change one bit. you decided to go to the same uni; you majored in ___ and he majored in art. a room in his house was dedicated to his art, walls plastered with the most beautiful pieces you’ve seen in your life. 

now you'd be lying if you said you've never had feelings for him, he's handsome after all. the way his eyes crinkled as his lips curled into that pretty smile of his. his eyes sparkling every time he spotted you in a crowd. his sweet personality and the way he cared for you when you needed it most. what was there not to love? as the semester started, you found yourself at his dorm most days.

---------------------

you knocked on the door, three knocks exactly, waiting patiently for his appearance. you heard shuffles from behind the door, a subtle “one sec!” shouted. you smiled to yourself, watching the doorknob turn and the creak of the door opening.

“__!” minghao says with a wide smile, the one that makes your heart flutter. he pulls you in for a hug, the warmth of his arms made you feel safe. “hao! how are you?” he giggles at the nickname, noticing you still called him that after all these years.

“i’ve been alright, art’s been kicking my ass, though. how about you?” he leads you into his dorm, taking whatever bags you had in your hand and settling them down. “it’s been good so far, the workload is crazy i swear.” you chuckle and sat on his bed, practically making yourself at home. “right? times were simpler in high school.” he sat on his rolling chair, moving to face you. 

“you said art’s been bad, why’s that?” you asked, crossing your legs and looking at him.

---------------------

as for minghao, you were nothing but an angel sent from heaven. he took a silent oath in his mind to take care of you, to make you feel safe at all times. he wanted to be the shoulder you needed to cry on, the hypeman you needed to congratulate you. giving his sweatshirt when you were cold, snacks and icecream when going through a breakup. he was there for everything.. and maybe it was because deep down he liked you. he couldn’t tell, he’s never experienced..  this before; butterflies in his stomach, cheeks slightly heating up from nerves. something about you had him going crazy.. was it your eyes? your hair? your smile? it drove him crazy, he was addicted to you unknowingly.

minghao applied to this uni with two reasons: for his art career and you.

“minghao you should apply to this one with me! it has a great art program, you’ll love it!” and how could he say no?

------------------------

and now he’s here, you in his dorm and he couldn’t have been happier.

“you said art’s been bad, why’s that?” you asked, crossing your legs and looking at him.

those eyes, those damn eyes. it’s as if the world stops whenever you look at him, batting your lashes with each word that comes out of your mouth. 

“umm hello? earth to minghao?” you waved a hand in his face as he shook his head from his thoughts and you could’ve sworn you saw a shade of pink appear on his face.

“o-oh yeah!” he clears his throat, trying to keep his composure, “well.. i knew it would be stressful, i guess i underestimated how much.” he chuckles, turning around to hand you a pamphlet of upcoming works he has to do. 

“shit hao.. this is wild for one person.” you sighed, both thankful you didn’t have to do worry about this but worried for him. 

“tell me about it. i have to study anatomy.. i’ve never really drawn people, you know? my pieces are more bursts of creativity than thought-out pieces.” he runs a hand through his hair, visibly stressed for his upcoming project. 

you thought to yourself for a second, before suggesting something you never thought you would.

“i could help you with anatomy.” you stated boldly, the tiniest of smiles when you saw his skin flush a dark shade of pink.

“no.. no no __ you don’t get it, i mean it has to be like nak-”

“i know hao, and i am saying i want to help you with it. please?”

fuck.. how could he say no? he couldn’t, especially not to you. he took your hand, bringing you to his art room in defeat. fighting with you would be pointless, you were stubborn when you put your foot down. what did you really want from this?

-------------------------

minghao was praying to the gods that you couldn’t hear his heartbeat, he felt like exploding as he watched you stand in front of his canvas. “are you ready, hao?” to which he could only nod, biting the inside of his cheek to try and keep his composure. “what’s got you so shy?” you teased and took off your top and bottoms, leaving you in a bra with a matching pair of panties. you could’ve sworn you heard a “fuck.” leave his lips, though you decided to brush it off.

“is this good or do you need more, hao?” you ask, this time your skin flushing red when you hear his response.

“off, all of it, baby.” his voice was husky, lustfulness coating each word. you were hesitant, reality suddenly hitting you. 

“you’re shy now? what happened to all that confidence, baby?” he teased, your arousal dripping inside your panties. you took a deep breath, taking off the last pieces of clothing until you were fully exposed in front of him. 

“so beautiful, all for me.” the dominance in his words only made you wetter, feeling it drip down your thighs. his eyes panned from you to the canvas, his glasses slipping from how much he focused. it didn’t take him long to move the easel out of the way, sitting back in his chair and patting his lap.

“come here, baby. let’s worry about that later, yeah?” to which you obeyed, sitting perfectly on top of him. a small laugh left his lips, a noticeable wet patch on his pants from your wetness.

“how long have you wanted me, baby?” he rubs your back, his big hand gently gripping your ass as you let out a soft moan in response.

“t-too long hao, way too long.” you admit as he hums in satisfaction, pulling you close until your lips were inches away. 

“me too baby, let me make you feel good, please?” you nodded, the sound of kissing and moans filling the room. his lips molded with yours perfectly, tongues fighting for dominance (and you gladly let him win). you’ve dreamt of this moment, his hands roaming your body. the feeling of those fingers inside of you that you only thought you’d feel in your dreams. but here he is: hair ruffled from your hands, glasses crooked and deep but pretty moans leaving his lips. he was needy as were you. you tugged his shirt, “impatient, huh?” he cooed, quickly tossing his shirt with your discarded clothes. you immediately moaned at the sight, his abs and biceps flexing in the dimly lit room. 

“oh baby, so needy for me,” he says half mockingly, rocking your hips against his clothed crotch until he decided to stop teasing you. you were doing so good for him, how could he not reward you? he unbuckled his belt, taking his pants off as his cock sprung free, leaking tip hitting his lower stomach. “s-so big hao,” you were drooling at the sight, you couldn’t wait to feel him inside of you. 

“y’like what you see, huh?” he takes his length in his hands and rubs it across your folds, pushing into your entrance. he threw his head back with a groan, your pussy swallowed him perfectly. “so fucking tight for me.” as for you, the stretch was something you never felt before. the sounds coming out of your mouth sounded like a porno, so dirty and loud. you were grateful he had soundproof walls, as was he. “mmf hao! feels so so good~” “yeah? you like being fucked like this?” words were long gone, getting caught in your throat and being replaced with the lewdest of sounds. you could feel the familiar knot in your stomach tightening, “close, hao m so so close” “fuck.. cum all over me baby, make a mess, please.” it was all you needed before your orgasm hit you like a wave, your release covering his dick and his sheets. he soon followed after you, long thick white ropes of cum coating your tummy as he let out the prettiest of whines. 

you both took a couple minutes to catch your breath, minghao breaking the silence.

“you’re my muse.”

tags: @bboradori @nctyping

[kooqitas]

friends-gyuhao! + reader ♡  smut [18+ mdni] #important warnings: unprotected sex, fingering and oral, penetration, cumming inside, pet names, threesome [f/m/m], dp.

summary:  you go crying to your two best friends and end up discovering that they’ve dreamed for years of sharing you.

🇧🇷 versão em português

the second bottle of wine is almost halfway done on the coffee table. you are at mingyu and minghao's place, the two of them having shared the apartment for years, and you've known each other since high school. theoretically, you are fulfilling the role of best friends in a post-breakup phase. you've spent the last two hours listening to you complain about your ex-boyfriend, and of course, agreeing with every single complaint.

mingyu keeps massaging your ankle, while minghao, sitting on the other sofa, has his body sprawled across the upholstery as he takes another sip.

"he acted like eating me out was a favor," you huff, downing the rest of your glass in anger. "i barely even cum..."

the silence in the living room borders on embarrassing: even mingyu's massage stops. he lets out an incredulous laugh, clearly fueled by alcohol, not drunk, the taller man is completely conscious, just utterly devoid of any filter.

it was already bad enough listening to you complain about your ex when all he's ever wanted was to have you. now, hearing that he treated you like a chore? damn, the hatred blinds him in seconds.

"a favor? motherfucker," his voice comes out harsh, irritated. "the guy has you in his bed and acts like it's a favor? sick piece of shit. you know what me and minghao would hav-"

"mingyu!" the chinese man scolds before the other can even finish, too panicked about what might slip out of the taller's mouth. "you're starting to cross the line."

"cross the line?" he grumbles, annoyed. "are you really gonna pretend, minghao?"

you don't quite understand what's happening, but you refill your wine glass, keeping your eyes on your friends. minghao lets out a sharp breath through his nose, an irritated sigh.

"it's not about pretending, damn it. it's about respecting the moment, she's hurting."

"go fuck yourself, xu minghao!" he snaps back quickly, his large body shifting on the couch as he goes back to massaging your calf. "gonna play the saint now? after hearing that she barely cum?"

"mingyu, shut the fuck up!"

still clueless about the situation, you stare back and forth between them. the mention of 'barely coming' was the breaking point for mingyu, it isn't fair, he's just that indignant.

and the caress continues, now creeping up to your knee.

"i won't shut up," he growls. "i'm sick of pretending that we do-"

"i swear to god if you open your mouth to say another word, i'll break your jaw." minghao's voice is freezing cold.

you swallow hard, your eyes darting from one to the other. mingyu scoffs, and instead of backing down from the threat, he just keeps the attack going.

still not understanding what's going on, you keep drinking, perhaps a bit too lost in your own self-pity to care about your two best friends arguing right in front of you. i mean, they live together and fight all the time, it's not like it's a big deal, right?

"break it, then. because i'm sick of it, dammit. i'm sick of pretending we don't spend sleepless nights imagining what it would be like to share her completely."

you freeze, your eyes going wide, choking on the alcohol you just swallowed as you try to process what you just heard. this isn't about protecting you, or hatred for your ex. it's about your two best friends desiring you together.

minghao lets out a breathy laugh, clearly in disbelief that mingyu was actually able to blurt it out. mingyu didn't lie, of course not, they've spent nights out on the balcony talking about how they would share you, describing and imagining you in the filthiest ways possible. but at the end of the day, they are still your friends, and minghao didn't want it exposed quite like this.

"you guys..." you ask, your voice still trembling.

the air grows heavy, too heavy. desperation is painfully obvious in both of their eyes, a mix of regret mixed with the raw, liberating freedom of finally having exposed how they feel. you keep staring at them, still lost in whatever the hell is supposed to be happening, and minghao decides to speak up.

"yeah. fuck..." he admits. "we've thought about sharing you for years, since high school to be honest. but you never gave us an opening, so we respected your boundaries. mingyu really crossed a line just now, my bad. forget about it." he scratches the back of his neck.

the chinese man's apology is sincere. they were never creeps waiting to pounce; they were always just your friends. beyond that, though, they've been harboring a goddamn vicious desire for you.

silence settles over the room. mingyu is still massaging your leg, as if that could make you forget the things you just heard. with the wine glass still in your hand, you look at mingyu, then at minghao, your breathing hitching.

"since high school?" the question slips out low, almost terrified.

"we love you, princess. you know that," minghao says sincerely, leaning in and gently touching your hair. "that's why we never even opened our mouths. better to die suffocated by our own desire than run the risk of losing you."

"if you want, we can call an uber or a taxi right now and pretend none of this ever happened," mingyu adds. "i really stepped out of line, i'm sorry."

the next few seconds are short but agonizingly tense, both of them anxious for your answer. you're still half-confused, having never looked at the two of them that way. of course, minghao and mingyu are drop-dead gorgeous, back in high school literally every girl wanted to sleep with them, and that followed them into college and every party you've ever gone to. it had always felt so natural to see them strictly as your guy friends.

every single time you went to clubs or parties together, you always knew that sharing was a recurring thing for them; it wasn't just two or three times you watched them take a girl home, and well, they clearly weren't spending the night playing uno…

you just never expected them to look at you that way, too. i mean, it's so confusing. you've slept in the same bed with the two of them countless times, you've gotten drunk to the point where they had to give you a bath, you've even talked to them about dates you went on with random guys, and never, they never once mentioned or hinted at a damn thing.

it felt like a sick fucking joke, just some weird strategy to 'cheer you up' because your ex-boyfriend is a piece of shit.

at the exact same time, discovering that they desired you violently wakes something up deep inside your brain. "i don't want an uber."

the silence that drops over the living room is brutal.

the truth is, as much as they dreamed about it, imagined it, as much as they might have planned out every single detail of this night in their heads, neither of them ever truly thought it could actually happen.

mingyu's hand freezes on your knee, staring at you like he's waiting for a hysterical laugh telling him it's a joke. meanwhile, minghao looks like he's about to shatter.

"are you sure?" minghao steps closer.

mingyu goes back to stroking your leg. "she said she doesn't want the uber, minghao. fuck, she wants to give us her pussy." despite the crude phrasing, his tone is practically glowing with hope.

minghao's eyes sweep down your body, starving, burning with an intensity you've never seen before. "do you have any idea how many times we thought about this? about how we imagined marking you all over, turning you brainless on our cocks, filling you up?"

"no favors, princess," the kim says, his voice trembling as his mouth hovers near your neck. "we want to ruin you completely. can we?"

"p-please," you beg, whining softly just at the mental image of the two of them taking you.

mingyu kisses your neck, turning you to jelly, his lips sucking softly against your skin while minghao captures your lips. his thick mouth and hot tongue invade your oral cavity, the sheer pressure of their two bodies closing in on you.

damn it, why didn't you notice this sooner?

you feel both of them shift onto the couch, each of your legs straddling one of their thighs, feeling your panties grow soaked from the unchaste kisses and fondling they're showering you with.

the two men beneath you still can't believe they are living out the dream of having you, practically delirious at the thought that they finally get to see you naked, touch you, use your tight little holes, and make you come for them.

"your skin tastes so good," minghao murmurs, slipping the thin strap of your top down, exposing your tight little tits with effortless ease a calm that's almost irritating.

mingyu practically groans, abandoning your neck instantly to suckle on a hard, peaked nipple. he sucks with such desperation that you can actually hear the wet suction sounds. the blonde joins in right after, mirroring the movement, a bit slower, but just as slick and wet.

your head is still spinning, but you decide not to overthink it; after all, at this point, sleeping with them or not is totally irrelevant, your friendship is already completely ruined.

you roll your eyes, the sensation of both your breasts being suckled at the exact same time entirely new to you. it's no secret that this alone is enough to soak your panties right through, making you whimker helplessly as your hips twitch involuntarily against their thighs.

the older one's fingers fiddle with the waistband of your shorts, trying to slip inside while he watches you whine.

"s-so good," you whimper, encouraging them to keep going.

not that they needed encouragement.

just having you right there was already more than enough.

minghao hoists you completely onto his lap, and within seconds the denim shorts slide down your legs, taking your panties right along with them.

you are completely exposed. mingyu holds your ankles right beside his friend's knees, leaving your dripping pussy wide open, pulsing.

it's slightly humiliating, hardly anything has happened yet and you're already thoroughly drenche, but you can't manage to feel a shred of shame, not when you watch mingyu literally whimper as he drags his tongue across the fabric that was buried deep inside you just seconds ago, licking the panties you never imagined taking off tonight.

minghao kisses you, slipping his fingers into your wet, swollen folds. at the exact same time, the taller drops the fabric to drag his tongue all across your slit, making your hips violently buck upward from the double stimulation. fuck, you aren't going to last like this.

"so soaking wet," mingyu chuckles, running his tongue over you again, tasting every salty drop leaking straight from your entrance. "i've dreamed about this so much, you little slut."

the phrase hits you square in the chest, making your lower belly tingle fiercely. your little pussy twitches visibly, causing mingyu to mock you softly.

"liked that, huh? what else do you like? hm? little whore?" he delivers a light, stinging slap right to your clit, making you let out a high-pitched squeak. "bitch?" another sharp slap lands.

"so dirty," minghao growls, pinching one of your nipples hard. "you're brainless from pure horniness, aren't you?" he laughs. "me too. i'm losing my mind over your gorgeous little body." 

the words short-circuit your brain completely; your entrance twitches with every single insult, the slaps and pinches sending electric shocks straight through your body. you whine, completely past caring about how pathetic you sound.

"f-fuck me, please." you grab the minghao's sweatpants-covered length. minghao gasps, caught off guard by the sudden touch, but accepts it willingly as you shove your hand inside the fabric, giving his hard dick a light, desperate stroke.

and at that exact second, while mingyu is eating you out, you feel him force a single finger straight into your ass.

the sudden invasion makes your entire body shudder, a strangled moan tearing from your throat. you'd had anal before with your ex, but it didn't come close to the feeling of the kim's fingertip opening you up from behind. your tight little ring tries instinctively to push the thick finger out, but he persists, forcing you to adjust to the pressure while he faithfully keeps licking your wet, dripping folds.

"g-gyu..." you moan.

your hand freezes on minghao's cock, paralyzed by the overwhelming stimulation from behind, but the minghao dictates the rhythm, covering your hand with his own and forcing you to pump his shaft.

"that's it, princess, right like that." he bites your earlobe, still toying with your breasts with his free hand.

the finger slips completely out of your ass, only for minghao to drop your hand and shove two fingers deep inside your tight little hole.

"gorgeous, fuck, i've dreamed about this so much," mingyu laughs, sliding his fingers deep into your pussy while he keeps sucking on your clit.

you whimper; being fingered in both holes is turning your brain to mush. you throw your head back against the blonde's shoulder, rocking your hips as you try to sink deeper onto both of them, throwing every ounce of dignity out the window.

"such a tight little ass, i need to stretch you wide so i can bury my dick inside," minghao murmurs, sliding a third finger in. "you're gonna let me, right? fuck, our dream has always been to share you completely."

the third finger shoves in all at once, while mingyu curls two more of his inside your dripping pussy. you let out a ragged moan as the walls of your body struggle to accommodate the blonde's fingers, which stretch you out with infinite, languid patience, kissing your neck and drinking in your tiny whimpers.

"this little slut was born to be ours," mingyu taunts, lightly scraping his teeth over your swollen clit. his chin and lips are completely soaked with your juices.

"greedy little bitch. ours."

you can't hold it together anymore. feeling minghao's hard cock throbbing in your fist, feeling your ass yielding and relaxing, the first tears of pure lust blur your vision as you writhe on the chinese man's lap.

it feels so unfairly good, you've never felt so desired, so completely catered to.

"hao... fuck my ass, p-please," you beg, completely past caring how pathetic you sound.

even if he wanted to, minghao couldn't possibly say no. you don't even know where the tube of lube came from, but you watch as he slicks up his entire length, aligning himself with your trembling, clenched hole.

as he presses the head against you and starts to push in, mingyu goes back to sucking on your nipple, distracting you just enough from the thick cock forcing its way into your rear.

"so damn good, fuck, i've dreamed about this," he groans, slightly breathless, feeling your ass desperately try to push his hard length back out.

mingyu stares right into your eyes, using his thumb to wipe away a tear rolling down your cheek, refusing to stop nursing your breast. the mild, burning stretch of the thick dick contrasts sharply with how slick, hot, and ready your body is for them.

minghao tangles his hand in your hair, pulling it back into a messy ponytail, dragging his tongue down your neck so he can taste the salty sweat of your skin. "move whenever you're ready, gata. this dick is all yours."

the mingyu's thick fingers resume pumping inside your soaked pussy, making you instinctively start to bounce slowly on minghao's lap, taking it easy at first, testing the waters.

"so good, shit, you're so pretty," minghao groans, completely destabilized by the sheer pleasure of having his dick buried deep inside you.

he doesn't try to dictate the pace or overpower you, which only turns you to absolute mush. the way both of them are willing to accept whatever you want to give them, the way they look at you and trace your skin like they're trying to convince themselves you're actually real.

every time you rise and fall, the thick cock filling your ass makes you whine softly, feeling yourself stretch out inch by inch.

"we're losing our minds over you," mingyu admits. "fuck, we always have." the mouth that was just nursing your chest captures your lips in a messy, deep kiss, swallowing your tongue while his fingers keep driving into your pussy, his thumb teasing your swollen clit.

"don't stop, princess, fuck, don't stop." minghao sounds borderline desperate, caught between sucking your neck, gripping your hair, and using his free hand to play with the nipple soaked in mingyu's saliva. "i've dreamed about this for so long."

mingyu pauses his fingers inside your pussy, locking his dark eyes onto yours, his breath hitching. "can i slide in too? i need this pussy swallowing me whole, we always planned it like this."

his voice comes out almost whining, pleading, and the second you nod, the last remnants of your clothes hit the floor so fast it feels meticulously calculated.

and maybe it was, because they know you down to the exact science.

"we're gonna lift you up, princess. wrap your arms around my neck," mingyu commands, and within seconds the three of you are on your feet.

your legs wrap around mingyu's waist, your arms locked tight around his neck. mingyu grabs your thighs while minghao grips your hips, the tip of his cock sliding effortlessly back into your wet heat.

and when he pushes in all the way, your body violently jerks upward in midair, your head thrown back in a choked-off scream as you feel fuller than you've ever been in your life, two massive cocks pumping inside you simultaneously, both of your holes utterly thoroughly wrecked.

you lose the ability to speak, completely wrecked by pleasure. your throat lets out crude, guttural sounds, your body jolting up and down as mingyu invades your pussy while minghao stretches your ass wide open, your entire frame trembling in the air.

you could swear you can feel the heads of their dicks brushing against each other through the thin wall of flesh, completely brainless and dripping with lust as they impale you. "fucking gorgeous," minghao practically growls.

mingyu holds you in a death grip by your thighs, knowing every hour at the gym paid off as he uses the sheer power of his hips to slam up into your pussy. while minghao anchors your waist to support your weight, driving forward into your now thoroughly stretched ass, the sensitive head grazing deep inside you, throbbing and slicking everything up from within.

"fuck, we're both inside her," mingyu laughs, almost in disbelief, your fingernails raking down his shoulder blades as he continues to hammer your pussy.

"our pussy, our woman," minghao growls, biting down on your neck hard enough to make you squeak. "tell us we're yours, dammit."

you want to, you never thought about it before, but right now all you want is to be used by these two every single day of your life. but your throat locks up, entirely lost in the ecstasy of your high, overloaded by pleasure. with both of your tight holes stuffed full of dick, your capacity to form words is completely destroyed.

the only thing escaping your mouth are choked, breathless moans, your head lolling back against minghao's shoulder, your breasts bouncing wildly with every thrust.

mingyu searches your face, tears of pure heat streaming down your cheeks. "princess, please," his voice sounds pathetic, desperate, whining just as shamelessly as you are. "say we're yours. break us in."

you're still too far gone to speak, shaking on top of their cocks as they stretch you open, feeling your body gear up for another violent climax.

"don't do this, fuck," minghao growls, his tone bordering on panic. "we're begging you, tell us you're ours. finish breaking our minds. lie to us if you have to, fuck."

and that is the breaking point. you don't even need to lie, you don't want to belong to any man on earth except these two. hearing your two best friends beg like this bypasses your brain entirely and unlocks your throat by force. you need to say it, even if it comes out broken, clumsy, fucked up, you need to make these men know that yes, you belong to them.

you suck in a ragged gasp, your holes clamping down in a violent spasm, and as mingyu looks at you with absolute devotion, you force the words out, your voice rough, choked, and entirely wrecked.

"i-i am," you choke on your own breath, your head dropping back onto minghao's shoulder as your hips slam downward, begging to take even more length. "y-yours."

the broken sentence, butchered by whimpering groans, is more than enough to completely shatter whatever restraint those two men had left.

minghao bites down hard on your jawline, howling as his cock buries itself to the hilt in your open, dripping ass, his hands bruising your hips to mark his territory. mingyu sinks his teeth into your neck, the burning sting transforming into pure, unadulterated lust as you realize they just want to claim you, to make you irrevocably theirs.

you let out one final, soundless scream, your vision blurring at the edges as your orgasm tears through you. your holes squeeze down in a near-violent spasm, strangling both cocks at the exact same time as your men roar out,

"fuck. god, yes!" the grip is so punishingly tight neither of them can hold back anymore, driving into you in a frenzied, punishing rhythm, finishing the job of opening you up completely and making your body bounce up and down as if you weigh nothing at all.

"m-mine." the shouted moan slips past your lips, and without a single warning, they come together, flooding you from the inside out.

mingyu erupts in heavy, thick jets, filling your womb with an absurd amount of scalding-hot cum, trembling violently as he kisses your face and pumps every last drop of his seed deep into your pussy. your swollen little hole can't possibly hold it all, letting the excess spill out.

minghao's cum overflows from your stretched-out ass at the same time, thick and warm down the curves of your buttocks in a whitening trail that smears across his hand and runs down your thighs, while he licks the salty sweat from your face.

they keep driving into you in slow, heavy thrusts right through the peak of their climax, slicking their cocks in the overflowing pool of fluids.

the mess is inevitable: with every single throb of mingyu's thick length deep inside your pussy, a thick, white cream of juices and cum splatters outward, dripping straight onto his groin and soaking both of your legs, pattering softly onto the living room floor to mix with the blonde's cum already pooling there.

they keep you suspended in their arms for a few agonizing seconds longer, their bodies heavy, trembling, and completely spent. hot, ragged breaths fan against your neck and collarbone. nobody moves, as if everyone is terrified that a single twitch will shatter the heavy, electric trance of the room.

when minghao finally begins to slide out of your ass, his dick pulls back slowly, making a wet, obscene slelching sound. left without his cock to plug you, a warm puddle of his cum immediately gushes out all at once down your backside, sliming the kim's hand where it grips your thigh.

the blonde presses a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. "damn."

"you're absolutely drenched in cum, fuck!" mingyu murmurs, completely awestruck, breathless with adoration as his own dick slips free from your pussy with the exact same messy, overflowing sound.

mingyu sits you down gently on the sofa, your body still vibrating as he heads toward the kitchen to grab a glass of water. you whime softly, your pussy and ass still twitching and gaping, leaking warm semen all over the expensive upholstery.

minghao drops to his knees between your wide-open legs, staring in pure fascination at the mess of white cream coating you. he trails his fingers slowly through it, scooping up the excess and bringing it straight to his mouth without an ounce of shame, his eyes locked onto yours.

"gorgeous," he murmurs, pressing a warm kiss right to your swollen clit.

you whimper, your hips giving a tiny, involuntary twitch when his hot lips brush against your most sensitive spot. his tongue trails over you without rush, licking up the excess cum mixed with your own juices, tasting the absolute wreckage they left behind on your body without a single shred of embarrassment.

"h-hao," you moan, tangling your fingers into his bleached hair.

"you have no idea how pretty you look right now, soaked in us."

"i-it's getting on the couch, hao," you warn, still feeling a trace of shyness, your thighs trembling.

not that minghao gives a damn; what he wants more than anything is for this house to be thoroughly soaked in the scent of your shared depravity. but before you can answer, mingyu returns from the kitchen holding a glass of ice-cold water, freezing in the middle of the living room for two solid seconds as he takes in the scene: you sprawled across the sofa, naked, shivering, and thoroughly basted in cum, while minghao remains knelt between your legs as if worshiping at an altar.

"take a sip, princess... nice and slow," mingyu instructs, his voice shaking. he helps guide the glass to your lips, steadying your hand which is still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasms. "you're too gorgeous... i swear i could spend the rest of my life just looking at you like this."

as the ice-cold water slides down your throat, slightly raw from the loud, desperate cries you'd just screamed, a delicious shiver races down your spine, making your thighs twitch in involuntary spasms every single time minghao gently laps at a stray drop on your skin. mingyu laughs, using his large hands to hold you firmly in place, keeping you from instinctively closing your legs.

"let hao take care of you, love," he murmurs softly, bringing his face close to yours to seal your lips in a lingering, tender kiss way too affectionate for what they had just put you through. "i'll go run the bath, okay?"

and the moment mingyu steps away, minghao shifts all his attention back to your body, dragging his large hands up your still-trembling thighs. the blonde's gaze is impossibly soft, his tongue still working at a leisurely pace, licking every remaining drop of cum off your skin.

"h-hao... so sensitive," you whimper, burying your fingers deep into his bleached locks, trying half-heartedly to push or pull his head away, not even knowing what you want.

"i know, love," he breathes right over your swollen little nub, making you shiver head-to-toe before planting a loud, affectionate kiss right on top. "and you look so damn pretty."

he crawls up your body slowly across the couch cushions, taking exaggerated care not to put his full weight on you, smiling softly the moment his mouth finds yours in a slow, sweet kiss.

seconds later, the kim walks back in, a satisfied grin spreading across his face when he takes in the sight. "bath's ready, princess!" mingyu announces, his voice dropping into a deep, playful, and deeply inviting tone before his eyes flick down to minghao hovering over your body. "and for you too, you unbearable pain in the ass, now get off our woman."

"only likes me when i'm on top of you?" minghao teases.

"mhm, exactly."

and you can't help your eyes going wide at the sight before you: mingyu leaning down to plant a quick, casual kiss right on minghao's lips, laughing warmly at your stunned expression afterward. "yeah, that happens sometimes..."

"don't act like you didn't know," minghao whispers, scooping you up into his arms and carrying you straight toward the bathroom.

well, it's not like you'd never suspected it, but seeing it play out right in front of you without a single filter or warning leaves you slightly shell-shocked, not in a bad way, of course, just... different.

just like the entire rest of the night.

and at this point, you could only thank your ex for being a complete idiot, and of course, thank mingyu for lacking a filter when he's buzzed.

[milk-moonbunnies]

how about you losing your v-card to them? would love to hear your take on it

genre: suggestive??

a/n: I wrote this between packing, so this is def not proofread or edited, but when is any of my stuff really? I write like I'm possessed.

warnings: mdni, 18+, soft! svt, in love! svt, boyfriend! svt, first-time! reader, virgin! reader, praise, dirty talk, size difference, hints/descriptions of different positions, squint to see some fluff, fanfiction, teasing, etc.

wc: 3.1k+

SEUNGCHEOL - Seungcheol says it's easier if you're on top.

He gives you a little smile in reassurance, the corner of his mouth curving up as he looks up at you with a fervent stare. His brown eyes are sparkling, and his big hands feel warm on your waist as your thighs straddle his hips with his guidance.

You think about how big his cock is, how it's thick in girth with a slight curve at the tip, and you blush at wondering how it'll fit. You remember the ache in your jaw when you've given head, and your stomach swirls with anticipation.

"Are you ready?"

He's giving you an out because he can see the way your breath hitches when he angles his cock to your entrance, and he's more than happy to go at this at your pace.

But you've been wanting this, so instead of answering, you lower yourself - gasping when you feel him push past and begin to stretch you deliciously.

You both groan in unison, and Seungcheol's grip on your waist tightens, but he doesn't take charge yet; he wants to see you take him all by yourself first.

JEONGHAN - It's all feverish kisses and hands worshipping your body. Jeonghan's taking his time to explore all your dips and curves, teeth ghosting along the spots you felt more sensitive so he can hear the way you soften up for him.

He doesn't give you a chance to overthink it, to worry about how you look when he's leaning over you. Instead, he notes all the ways your body responds to his so beautifully. The way your back arches when his hands sneak down your waist, how your legs automatically part when he slots himself over you leaning down to give you another kiss.

He checks in at every new sensation, making sure you want him to continue, even making you repeat yourself louder just so he can hear you whine his name after.

He uses his tongue, his fingers, and his words to make you come undone. He wants your pretty eyes to be glossy like your lips, and he wants you needy like he is, because he's wanted you for so long, and now you're grabbing onto him like he's your lifeline, and he thinks you're absolutely perfect.

He tells you that too, just as he's sinking into your pretty pussy, watching the way your eyebrows pinch and your mouth drops open. You're gorgeous, fucking gorgeous.

JOSHUA - Joshua talks you through it while guiding you up and down on his cock.

He kisses you ardently between asking for your consent. “Are you sure? Let me hear you say what you want, my love. Tell me what you need." He wants to make sure you really are ready like you said you are because he knows first times matter, and he’s fine with whatever you want.

So when you say the words all breathy, your chest heaving from when he’s kissed you silly - he’s all but pawing off your clothes alongside with his.

He manhandles you onto his lap, feeling the heat between your legs get hotter when he gives you praise, and he tells you to take the lead with a little smirk.

There is no doubt that he’s in charge, but it makes both yours and his heart skip a beat when your hand barely wraps around his shaft. And the both of you seem to hold your breath when you guide him to your weeping cunt with a slow confidence.

“There you go. You’re so wet for me, baby, have you been thinking about this for a while? Been wanting t’know how I feel inside you?”

You have to brace a hand on his chest when his words swirl around your brain. He knows just how to rile you up, throbbing in need.

“We’re gonna take this slow, okay? Want you to feel how good it feels when I reach deeper places your fingers can’t.”

JUN - Jun makes you feel so deliriously good that you think you've lost your mind. He takes his time building you up, playing with you, worshipping you, just so he can make you desperate with need and soaking wet.

He knew it was your first time, he knew you had been nervous, and he knew it meant a lot that you chose him, so he doesn't even get close to undressing himself until he's got you crying out his name twice. Once on his tongue, another on his fingers, and it's only the beginning.

When he's finally deemed you ready, your legs tremble, your eyelashes are wet with tears, and he's peppering kisses all over your cheeks, nose, and lips with a cute laugh.

He's made you a babbling mess, and it's perfect because when he finally nestles between your legs, you're like putty in his hands. He's able to easily maneuver you, pushing one of your legs up to give him better access, and when he slides home? There's no discomfort, just a delicious squelch of you welcoming him in, and your eyes roll back just as he coos. "That's it- so wet for me."

HOSHI - Hoshi doesn't realize this was your first time until it's too late.

He never seemed to stop long enough to question it; he just assumed you were taking things slow, even if you two had been dating for a while now.

Both of you led busy lives, and he was perfectly happy with the make-out sessions you two had when you found time to be together. For him, as long as he got to be with you in any type of capacity, he was happy.

He simply went at your pace and never questioned why it never went past some heavy petting and dry humping. His eyes never sparkled any less when that was your limit, and he hardly blinked an eye when you gave an excuse to stop.

So reflecting on it, he definitely should have seen the signs, but any thoughts he had in his head simply disappeared when you kissed him stupid, blindly guiding him from the couch and towards your bedroom.

It only feels natural that he's got you underneath him on the bed, and his brain is all mushy trying to hear all the pretty noises you make as he kisses down your neck. So when your breath catches as he finally sinks into you, he has to blink a few times before he realizes, and then his eyes are widening with realization.

His lips find yours immediately to kiss the discomfort away, and his movements slow to give you time to adjust as he gives you praise. "Doing so well for me, that's it, take it all for me. We’ll take it nice and slow.”

WONWOO - Wonwoo doesn't let go of your hand the entire time.

He holds onto your hand when he kisses you, soft and sweet at the front door of your apartment. He holds onto your hand when you guide him inside with a cute smile, and he holds onto your hand when you find yourself on his lap at the edge of the bed, his fingers laced with yours as his other hand cups the back of your neck deepening your kiss with a low groan.

When you tell him you want more, he makes sure to hold your hand while he trails his kisses down your neck, only letting go of you to help you out of your clothes.

You squeeze his hand when he does something you like, and his lips curve into a knowing grin when you tug on his hand to pull him closer when it becomes too much, and your thighs clamp around his head, keeping him right there. His fingers dig into your thigh as his other hand squeezes yours in reassurance, and the way you say his name swirls around his brain all whiny and soft.

When you're soft and slick, dripping down your thighs, he holds your hand while he guides his cock to your weeping cunt. He gives you a moment to change your mind, but when you squeeze his hand twice, he pushes his hips forward, rocking into you until you take him to the hilt.

Wonwoo squeezes your hand three times to tell you he loves you before he feels you squeeze him back, but it's not his hand that you squeeze, and the feeling makes him curses between praise, pushing your knee up as he pulls his hips back before sliding back in again with a firm stroke.

WOOZI - Woozi doesn't last long when you tell him you're ready to take the relationship further. He knew this was your first time, and he had it all planned out in his head that he'd take it nice and slow for you, guide you along with praise and kisses before he got a front-row seat to what you'd look and feel like coming a part underneath him.

But his mistake was not accounting for how good you'd feel wrapped around him.

Your nails are leaving crescent-shaped indents into his back, your legs are squeezing his hips, and your pretty pussy is trembling around his shaft so deliciously, his moan breaks off into a gasp.

He shudders in pleasure, gasping an "oh fuck" and his eyes are as dilated as yours are as they look at you with alarm. You can feel every inch, every vein throbbing down his length, and when you are just about to question why he stopped moving, you're blinking up in surprise when you feel him twitch.

Woozi's not even halfway in, you had been taking him so well, but now his ears are burning red all the way down to his chest as he suddenly cums without warning. You had felt too good, and it's so unexpected that his head bows until his lips are kissing up your neck feverishly.

He keeps rocking his hips forward, mumbling against your skin that he's going to make up for it, shivering at the sensitivity of his cock as he feels you suck him in deeper, ready to milk him dry.

MINGHAO - Your first time with Minghao is filled with sweet words, hand holding, and lots of eye contact. It's beyond intimate, and Minghao knows it's important because it's your first, he's your first, and his heart is filled with so much love for you that it might burst out of his chest.

He can't stop praising you with soft whispers and even sweeter kisses, while his movements stay slow but firm. He entwines his fingers with yours, keeping them pinned next to your head, and his brain is absolute mush.

Normally, Minghao is quiet, the observer, who has all of his emotions displayed on his face, but his tongue in check - but now? Now, all of that is out the window. He thinks you're gorgeous, lying underneath him, and he's pretty sure he's giving you praise for taking him so well, for feeling so good, and looking so pretty, but in reality all his words are slurring, and he's so down bad he's stuttering.

"Hck - mmph - does this feel good? Hn - o-oh, you're still so tight, it's like you don't want me to leave, baby."

When you fall apart, he watches intently, taking in the way your eyes roll back and your mouth drops open. His pupils dilate into hearts, and his hips don't falter in rhythm, ready to build you up again - addicted to the way you cry his name.

MINGYU - Mingyu refuses to have your first time be anything but perfect.

He's arranged candles, flowers, a home-cooked meal, and curated a playlist. He denies labeling it "lucky" and also denies that his hands are shaking when you settle on his lap an hour after dinner.

You're gorgeous, all soft and sweet, as he takes his time to kiss you. You make the prettiest noises when he does something you like, and his big hands can't help but squeeze and grab at your waist, whispering praise between kisses as you tilt your head back to give him more space.

He doesn't rush anything; instead, you're the one who has to nudge him along when he kisses you senseless, making you all needy enough to whine out his name like a plea.

Then it's all a blur - his palms slide up your back, pulling you closer, and the kiss turns into something more desperate, both of you pulling at one another's clothes like you can't get them off fast enough.

When it gets too much for him, Mingyu's lips find yours again as he carries you back to the bedroom. He checks in to make sure you really want to continue, reassuring you that it's fine if you change your mind, but you've never been more sure than you are right in that moment; and you show him by pulling him in for another kiss, letting yourself get lost in the touch of his hands on your legs, and his lips on your neck as he talks you through it.

DK - DK is unprepared in the best way possible. He knows you trust him, and he knows you're a virgin, so he figured that when the time was right, he'd make it special and show you how much you meant to him.

The plan was to take you out to a fancy dinner, give you flowers, and tell you how much he loves you, but you had other ideas.

In the time that Dokyeom has dated you, you two have had very close calls where he'd kiss you with his hips snug between your thighs, and it was subconscious the way your make-outs would turn into this addictive grind that left you dizzy in the best way possible.

Your moans would be swallowed by him giving you slow-burn kisses, his tongue rolling over yours as his hips rocked into you, and a familiar heat would pool in your lower stomach.

It was delirious to feel this good and be fully clothed, and when Dokyeom's breath hitched as your nails dug into his biceps? Well, screw his plans for a wine-and-dine first time - you wanted him, and you wanted him now.

You barely give him a chance to think when your hands slip to the front of his pants. Your fingers are already unbuttoning them as he pulls away from your lips to catch his breath, and his eyes swirl seeing you look at him with hunger. His cheeks are flushed like yours as he stutters out, "Are you sure? Right now?" And your only response is to drag his zipper down, taking your first time in your own hands, quite literally.

SEUNGKWAN - You two actually made a pact.

You had been friends for a long time, and you really wanted to lose it to someone you trusted. So that's where your best friend Seungkwan comes into play.

You had made him promise over a bottle of tequila that if both of you were single before your next birthday, you'd fuck, and you cashed it in months later when you realized your birthday was coming up. Both of you were single, and you didn't want to deal with it anymore, so bravely, you called him over.

"Are you sure?" Seungkwans asks for the nth time; his eyes have never been more serious than they're now, and it honestly makes you smile from how concerned your friend is - but you two were already naked, and you've never felt more sure in your life.

You see, you never told Seungkwan this, but you loved him, genuinely, and being underneath him had only solidified it.

"Boo," your smile is soft as you take in his pretty eyes, and before your heart can leap fully out of your chest, you pull him down for a kiss. "I love you."

The moment Seungkwan hears you say it, he knows it's different from all the other times you've said it as a friend, and he all but melts into your kiss as it echoes in his mind.

When he confesses to you that he loves you too, your hands are entwined, and his movements are slow but solid, taking your breath away as he pulls you into another kiss to distract you from the slight discomfort of you taking him to the hilt for the first time.

VERNON - It's awkward, filled with laughter, and shared kisses when you lose your virginity to Vernon.

You were honestly beyond nervous and thankful that Vernon tried to take it slow, tried to help you relax with sweet words and slow kisses. But if we're being honest? You were clutching onto his biceps like your life depended on it, thinking too much with your head.

"My love," Vernon's voice is soft, and your cheeks burn with a blush as he rubs his palms up your thighs in reassurance. "If you don't relax, it won't fit."

Even in the darkness of his bedroom, he knows you, and the minute his words register, you both freeze before falling into a fit of giggles that breaks you from overthinking stupor.

What you didn't realize until now is that sex didn't have to be serious, and the laughter eases something in your chest and in your head, and before you know it, his hips are flush against your ass, and your giggles turn into a breathy moan that'll be seared into his brain forever.

When your eyes meet Vernon's, you see he's just as affected as you are, and he doesn't give you a chance to think before his lips are crashing into yours. "You did so good for me, my love. Now let me take care of you."

DINO - Dino has never been more focused in his life than the way he is right now.

His pupils dilate, his breath comes out shallow, and his cheeks are flushed as he leans over you. "Fuck, you're so pretty." He can't believe you're underneath him. That you're looking up at him with those pretty eyes, and that cute nervous grin, and his tongue rolls over his bottom lip as you give him space to nestle between your open legs.

Dino knows how important this is for you, and he is determined to make you feel good, so he watches intently - taking in all your pretty little noises and flushed cheeks, the way your eyebrows furrow, and the way your lips part when he does something that feels really good.

He makes it all about you. He holds your hands, entwining your fingers, and checks in. "Does this feel good?" "Do you like it when I do that?" "You sound so pretty; let me hear you louder, baby." "Fuck, baby, you feel so good, my love."

You truly feel like heaven, and his teeth sink into his bottom lip, determined to make you fall apart a few times before he shows you that this is only the beginning.

대박 - you made it to the end.

Tell me about it.

Reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated ♡ . Tumblr is based on reblogs, not likes, and that helps writers like me reach more people. Thank you for your support!

my bts mstrlst - svt mstrlst

[ajutired]

My dream boy for reeeeal

[toothy-mutt]

consider: snuff film maker's pet? getting to join in on some films n rough up the victim too, cleaning up the blood and gore of a finished scene and getting fucked by em as a reward, if you're lucky maybe they'll let you use the fresh corpse as your personal toy! just a treat for doing so good for them :) even better if you were intended to be a victim yourself, but they liked you enough to keep you around

[yourfavtangerine]

Strike a pose

Pairing: model!minghao x manager!reader

Coworkers to lovers, modern au, smut

Wc:~4.8k

Warnings: hao is infuriating, hao is a sub, praise kink, smut, unprotected sex, handjob, riding, creampie

A/N: i was on vacation with my family last week and i have so much writing to catch up on 😩. I'll try to write as fast as i can so be ready for a lot of fics soon

The studio lights buzzed overhead like hornets, casting shadows across the sleek white backdrop. You stood just off-camera, arms crossed over your chest, clipboard in hand and tried not to let the growing headache show on your face. This was only your third week as Xu Minghao’s personal manager and already you understood why three others had quit in the past six months.

"Too cold" Minghao’s voice cut through the air, sharp and dismissive. He stood in the center of the set in a tailored black coat that cost more than your monthly rent, arms slightly raised as the stylist adjusted the lapels for the tenth time. "The lighting makes my skin look washed out. Fix it."

The photographer, a seasoned professional named Daniel, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Minghao, we’ve adjusted the gels twice. The color temperature is exactly what the brand requested-"

"Then the brand has poor taste" Minghao replied coolly, not even looking at Daniel. His dark eyes flicked toward you instead, expectant. "Manager. Handle this."

You felt the weight of twenty pairs of eyes on you: assistants, stylists, the client’s marketing rep hovering nervously by the snack table. Xu Minghao had a reputation that preceded him like a storm cloud: breathtakingly beautiful, undeniably talented and impossibly difficult. Magazines called him an artist. Colleagues called him a nightmare.

You stepped forward, keeping your voice calm and professional. "Minghao, the lighting setup matches the mood board we approved yesterday. If we change it now, we’ll lose another forty minutes on recalibration. The client is already on a tight schedule for the spring campaign."

He turned fully toward you, one perfectly arched eyebrow lifting. Up close, he was even more striking: sharp jawline, porcelain skin and those intense eyes that seemed to look straight through people. His blonde hair, styled in a sleek undercut for this shoot, caught the light. "Are you suggesting I compromise my image for their schedule?" His tone dripped with superiority, as if the very idea was beneath him. "If the photos are subpar, it reflects on me. Not them."

You met his gaze without flinching. "I’m suggesting we work efficiently so the final product actually meets everyone’s standards, including yours. Let’s try the next set of shots. If they don’t work, we’ll adjust."

For a moment, silence stretched across the studio. Someone coughed awkwardly. Minghao’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he gave a single, reluctant nod. "Fine. But if I look like a ghost in the proofs, it’s on you."

The shoot continued in fits and starts. He was picky about everything: the angle of his chin, the way the coat draped over his shoulders, even the temperature of the water someone brought him between takes. "Too warm" he complained, handing the bottle back with two fingers as if it offended him. "I need room temperature, not bathwater."

You signaled one of the assistants to fetch a fresh bottle from the fridge in the back. As you did, you caught snippets of muttered complaints from the crew.

"Divine, my ass. He’s impossible."

"Last manager lasted five weeks. Bet this one cracks by Friday."

You ignored them. Your job wasn’t to make friends with the crew; it was to make sure Xu Minghao delivered what the brands paid for. Even if he made it feel like pulling teeth from a lion.

Two hours later, the tension had only thickened. Minghao had rejected three outfit changes, insisting the textures clashed with his skin undertone under the current lighting. The stylist looked ready to cry. When the client’s rep gently suggested they move on to the solo portraits, Minghao sighed theatrically.

"These concepts are uninspired. Who approved this? It feels… generic." He gestured vaguely at the minimalist set. "I expected better from a campaign this size."

You stepped in again, this time lowering your voice so only he could hear as you approached. "Minghao. You signed the contract. The brief is clear. We can discuss creative input for future projects, but right now we need to finish today’s shots. Please."

He looked down at you, taller by a few inches even without the elevated platform, and for a second something flickered in his expression. Not quite anger. Maybe surprise that you hadn’t raised your voice like the others. "You’re new" he said softly, almost to himself. "Still full of optimism."

"Still full of competence" you corrected, holding his gaze. "Let’s get this done. The sooner we finish, the sooner you can go home and stop torturing everyone."

A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Torturing? Dramatic."

"Accurate" you shot back.

To your mild astonishment, he actually complied for the next sequence. He moved with fluid grace in front of the camera, every line of his body precise, every expression dialed to perfection. The man was a professional when he wanted to be: ethereal, commanding, almost otherworldly. It was easy to see why brands fought for him despite the headaches. In motion, he transformed irritation into art.

But the moment the photographer called for a break, the mask slipped back into place.

"The coat pinches under the arms" he announced, shrugging it off and letting it fall carelessly. An assistant scrambled to catch it. "And the pants are too tight across the thighs. I told them last week."

You rubbed your temple. "We’ll note it for alterations. For now, change into the next look."

The afternoon dragged on. By the time the final shots wrapped, the studio clock showed nearly eight in the evening. Exhaustion hung heavy in the air. Daniel gave you a weary thumbs-up as the crew began packing lights. "You handled him better than most" he muttered on his way out. "Good luck. You’ll need it."

Minghao emerged from the dressing area in his own clothes: a black silk shirt unbuttoned just enough to hint at collarbones, tailored trousers and a long wool coat draped over his shoulders. He looked annoyingly perfect despite the long day, while you felt rumpled and drained.

"Car’s waiting downstairs" you told him, checking your phone for the driver’s confirmation.

He didn’t thank you. Instead, he simply nodded and headed for the exit, expecting you to follow. You did, falling into step beside him in the elevator. The silence was thick, charged with everything unsaid.

As the doors opened to the underground parking, he finally spoke. "You don’t seem afraid to push back."

"Someone has to" you replied evenly. "If I let you run wild, the jobs will dry up no matter how talented you are. And despite what people say, I don’t think you want that."

He paused beside the sleek black car, one hand on the door. Those dark eyes studied you again, slower this time, tracing your face as if seeing you properly for the first time. "Most managers eventually learn to just nod and schedule damage control."

"I’m not most managers."

A low chuckle escaped him, quiet, almost surprised. "Evidently."

The driver opened the door. Minghao slid into the backseat and you followed after a moment’s hesitation. The partition was up, giving you both privacy. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows as the car pulled into evening traffic.

You reviewed notes on your tablet, marking down his complaints for tomorrow’s pre-production meeting. Beside you, Minghao leaned his head back against the seat, eyes half-closed. For once, he didn’t look superior or untouchable, just tired.

"You did well today" you said after a few minutes, testing the waters. "The solo shots at the end were strong. The client will love them."

He cracked one eye open. "Flattery now? After calling me difficult all day?"

"Not flattery. Facts." You set the tablet down. "You’re picky because you care about the outcome. I get it. But the way you express it makes enemies. People are already whispering about how hard you are to work with."

Minghao’s expression hardened slightly. "Let them whisper. Most of them couldn’t last one shoot in my position. They don’t understand the pressure."

"Maybe not" you conceded. "But alienating the entire crew doesn’t help your image either. You’re talented, Minghao. You could be more than just the difficult one."

He turned his head to look at you fully. The passing streetlights caught the silver in his hair and the sharp line of his jaw. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The air in the car felt heavier, warmer. You became acutely aware of how close you were sitting, the faint scent of his cologne: something woody and expensive, mingling with the leather seats.

"You’re different" he murmured. It wasn’t a question.

You shrugged, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened under his scrutiny. "I’m here to do my job. That includes managing you, not just your schedule."

A faint smile played on his lips, genuine this time, small but there. "We’ll see how long that lasts."

The rest of the ride passed in charged silence. When the car finally stopped in front of his upscale apartment building, Minghao lingered for a second after the driver opened the door.

"Tomorrow’s fittings at ten" you reminded him. "Try not to terrorize the stylists too much."

He stepped out, then glanced back at you. "Perhaps I’ll behave. If you ask nicely."

Before you could respond, he shut the door and walked toward the entrance, coat billowing slightly behind him. You watched until he disappeared inside, exhaling a long breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

This job was going to be a challenge. Xu Minghao was arrogant, picky and exhausting.

The fitting room at the agency’s main studio smelled like fresh fabric, strong coffee and barely contained frustration. Racks of garments lined the walls: silks, wools and tailored pieces from the upcoming editorial spread. You stood near the mirrored wall, arms crossed, watching Minghao systematically dismantle the stylist team’s efforts for the third time that morning.

"This cut is amateur" he said, tugging at the shoulder of a deep emerald jacket. The fabric draped beautifully over his frame, highlighting the elegant lines of his shoulders and the narrow taper of his waist, but he scowled as if it personally offended him. "It makes me look boxy. I told you last week I wanted something with more structure in the shoulders."

The head stylist, a sharp woman named Lena who had worked with international stars for fifteen years, pinched her lips together. "Minghao, this is from the designer’s final selections. It’s custom. The proportions were approved-"

"Clearly not by someone who understands my body" he interrupted, voice cool and superior. He shrugged the jacket off with fluid disdain and let it drop onto a nearby chair. "Next."

Two assistants exchanged glances. One muttered something under their breath about "impossible divas". You caught it and shot them a warning look, but the damage was done. Minghao’s hearing was excellent; his jaw tightened imperceptibly.

You stepped forward before the situation could spiral further. "Let’s take five. Everyone, grab coffee. We’ll resume shortly."

The room emptied quickly, relief palpable in the air. Once the door clicked shut, you turned to Minghao. He stood in front of the mirror in just the fitted black shirt and trousers from earlier, silver hair slightly tousled from changing, looking every inch the untouchable model. But you were starting to see the performance for what it was.

"Minghao" you began, keeping your tone even but firm "you need to stop."

He met your eyes in the reflection, one eyebrow arched. "Stop what, exactly? Doing my job?"

"Alienating everyone who’s trying to help you." You moved closer, stopping a few feet away. "She's one of the best in the city. The team is exhausted. At this rate, word will spread again and bookings will suffer no matter how good the final shots look."

He turned slowly to face you, arms folding over his chest. The movement pulled the shirt tighter across his torso. "So I should just smile and accept mediocrity? Is that what you’re suggesting?"

"I’m suggesting you communicate like a professional instead of tearing people down."

Your voice rose slightly despite your best efforts. The long hours, the constant mediation and the way he looked at you, like he was testing how far he could push, were wearing on your patience. "You’re talented. Exceptionally so. But talent only gets you so far when no one wants to work with you."

For a second, something flashed across his face: irritation, maybe even hurt, but it vanished behind the familiar mask of superiority. "You think you know me after a few weeks?" He took a step closer, voice low and edged. "You see the surface and assume that’s all there is. The picky model. The difficult one. Everyone whispers it. I hear them."

"Then prove them wrong" you challenged, refusing to back down even as he closed the distance. The dressing room suddenly felt smaller, the air thicker. You could smell his cologne again, that same woody scent mixed with the faint warmth of his skin after hours under hot lights. "Or at least stop making my job harder than it has to be."

Minghao’s eyes darkened. "Your job is to manage me. Not lecture me."

"And managing you means telling you the truth when you’re sabotaging yourself." You didn’t realize how close you’d gotten until you could see the faint flecks of gold in his dark irises. "Why do you do it? Push everyone away like this?"

He laughed, but there was no humor in it, just a sharp, haughty sound. “Trust is a luxury in this world. One bad photo, one leaked comment and your career is twisted into something unrecognizable. People smile to your face and sharpen knives behind your back. I learned that early." His gaze dropped briefly to your mouth, then back up. "Pushing keeps things… cleaner."

The admission, delivered in that arrogant tone, still carried weight. You saw it then, the exhaustion beneath the perfection. The way his shoulders tensed, the subtle clench of his jaw. Xu Minghao wasn’t just difficult; he was guarded, armor polished to a lethal shine.

"You don’t have to push me" you said quietly. "I’m not here to stab you in the back. I’m here to make sure you succeed without burning every bridge."

He stared at you for a long moment. The silence stretched, heavy and electric. You could hear your own heartbeat, feel the warmth radiating from his body. His hand twitched at his side, as if fighting the urge to reach out.

"You’re dangerous" he murmured finally. The words were barely above a whisper, but they sent a shiver down your spine. "Most managers learn to stay at arm’s length. You keep stepping closer."

"Maybe someone needs to." Your voice came out softer than intended.

Minghao’s eyes flicked down again, lingering. The space between you had vanished. His breath ghosted across your cheek as he leaned in fractionally. You tilted your head up instinctively, pulse racing. The almost-kiss hung there: lips inches apart, tension coiling tight enough to snap. You could practically taste the moment, the heat of his body, the promise of what might happen if one of you closed the gap.

Then he pulled back.

A smirk curved his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was a shield, quick and practiced. "Careful, Manager. Mixing business with pleasure never ends well."

Frustration flared hot in your chest. You wanted to grab him by the collar and finish what he’d started, but you held yourself still. "You’re the one who keeps testing the line."

Minghao adjusted his shirt with deliberate casualness, though his fingers trembled slightly. "Perhaps. Or maybe I’m curious how long you’ll last before you run like the others." He glanced at the closed door. "Tell them we’ll continue in ten minutes. And… have them bring the charcoal suit next. It might work better."

You exhaled slowly, trying to steady your racing heart. "Fine. But this conversation isn’t over."

His smirk deepened, arrogant and infuriatingly attractive. "I didn’t think it was."

The rest of the fitting dragged. Minghao was marginally more cooperative after your confrontation: still picky, still offering cutting observations, but he allowed a few compromises without full meltdown. The team noticed the shift, shooting you grateful looks when his back was turned.

By the time everything wrapped, the sun had dipped low, painting the studio in golden hour light that made even the cluttered space look cinematic.

You walked him to the car again, just like the night before. This time the silence felt different: loaded, aware. Minghao scrolled through his phone, but you caught him glancing at you more than once.

As the car merged into traffic, he spoke without looking up. "The near-miss earlier… that was a lapse in judgment."

"Was it?" You turned toward him. "Or are you just scared of letting someone in?"

He set the phone down, fixing you with that intense stare. "Scared?" The word dripped with disdain, but his voice had an undercurrent of something raw. "I don’t get scared. I calculate risks. And you…" He gestured vaguely between you. "You’re a significant risk."

"Because I push back?"

"Because you see through the act." The confession slipped out, quieter than he probably intended. He recovered quickly, adding in his usual superior tone "Most people prefer the untouchable image. It’s easier for them. Safer."

You studied him. The city lights played across his features, softening the sharp edges. "I don’t want the image, Minghao. I want the person who actually cares enough to fight for every detail, even if he expresses it like an asshole."

A surprised laugh escaped him: genuine, low and warm. It transformed his face, making him look younger, more human. "Bold words. You really aren’t like the others."

The car slowed to a stop outside his building. Neither of you moved immediately.

"Come up" he said suddenly. When you raised an eyebrow, he rolled his eyes. "For work. We can review the lookbook for next week. I have notes."

You knew it wasn’t just about the lookbook. The tension from the dressing room still hummed between you, unresolved. But you nodded. "Lead the way."

His apartment was exactly what you expected: minimalist luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, sleek furniture in neutral tones and art pieces that probably cost a fortune. He poured two glasses of water, room temperature, of course and handed you one before spreading the lookbook across the low table.

For the next hour, you worked. He pointed out flaws with his usual precision, but he listened when you countered. Vulnerability peeked through in small moments: a quiet admission that certain angles made him self-conscious about a scar on his collarbone from a childhood accident, the way his voice softened when discussing a concept that actually excited him.

At one point, as you leaned over to mark a page, your hands brushed. The contact lingered. Minghao didn’t pull away immediately. His fingers traced lightly over yours, almost absentmindedly.

"You’re still here" he said softly, eyes on the point of contact.

"I told you I wasn’t running."

He looked up, expression unreadable. The charged atmosphere from the dressing room returned full force. This time, when he leaned in, there was no smirk waiting to pull back. Your breath caught.

But at the last second, he turned his head, lips brushing your cheek instead of your mouth. "Not tonight" he whispered against your skin. "Not when I’m still trying to decide if this is a mistake."

You closed your eyes, frustration and desire warring inside you. "You’re infuriating."

"I know." He pulled away, that superior little smirk back in place, but his cheeks were faintly flushed. "Go home. We have an early call tomorrow."

You gathered your things, heart still pounding. At the door, you paused. "For the record, I see you, Minghao. The real you. And I’m not scared of it."

His hand rested on the doorframe, close enough that you could feel his warmth. "We’ll see if that’s still true after a few more weeks."

The door closed behind you with a soft click. As you rode the elevator down, you touched your cheek where his lips had been. The difficult, superior model was cracking, revealing layers you hadn’t expected.

The runway show had been a triumph. Minghao moved like liquid silk under the flashing lights, each step precise, each turn commanding the audience’s breathless attention. The collection received a standing ovation and even the most jaded critics raved about his performance. Yet backstage, amid the chaos of congratulations and popping champagne, you saw the exhaustion etched into the lines of his shoulders. He accepted praise with his usual superior nod, but his eyes kept finding you in the crowd.

Later that night, his text was simple: Penthouse. Damage control drinks. Don’t make me wait.

You arrived just after midnight. The city glittered far below the floor-to-ceiling windows as Minghao opened the door in a loose black silk shirt and matching pants, silver hair slightly damp from a shower. He looked devastatingly beautiful and strangely vulnerable without the armor of the runway.

"Successful night" you said, stepping inside.

He handed you a glass of red wine, lips curving into that familiar smirk. "Of course it was. But the team was still insufferable." His tone held less bite than usual. The conversation from the dressing room and his apartment still lingered between you, unresolved and electric.

You sipped the wine, watching him. "You were incredible out there. Every eye was on you."

Something shifted in his expression at the praise. His cheeks colored faintly. He set his glass down and moved closer, crowding you gently against the kitchen island. "Flattery again?"

"Truth" you corrected, placing your hand on his chest. The silk was cool under your palm, but his skin burned beneath it. "You worked hard. You deserved every bit of applause."

Minghao’s breath hitched. He leaned in, but this time you were the one who closed the distance, kissing him firmly. He melted almost instantly, a soft sound escaping him as his hands gripped your waist. The kiss deepened quickly, hungry and weeks in the making. When you pulled back, his eyes were darker, pupils blown wide.

"Bedroom" you whispered against his lips. It wasn’t a question.

He led you there without protest, the apartment’s low lighting casting long shadows across crisp white sheets. You pushed him down onto the edge of the bed, standing between his knees. Minghao looked up at you, that superior mask cracking further as you slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

"You’re so beautiful like this" you murmured, sliding the silk off his shoulders. "Responsive. Perfect."

A shiver ran through him at your words. His hands reached for you, but you caught his wrists gently and pressed them to the mattress. "Let me take care of you tonight."

He swallowed hard, nodding once. The arrogance was gone, replaced by something beautifully open and needy. You undressed slowly, letting him watch, then climbed onto his lap, straddling him. His cock was already hard, straining against the thin fabric of his pants. You ground down against him, earning a quiet whimper.

"Tell me what you need" you said, kissing along his jaw.

"Touch me… please." His voice was breathy, submissive in a way that sent heat pooling in your belly. The mighty Xu Minghao, terror of the industry, reduced to soft pleas under your hands.

You freed him from his pants, wrapping your fingers around his length. He was long and hot, twitching at the contact. "So good for me already" you praised, stroking slowly. "Look at you, letting me control everything. Such a good boy."

Minghao moaned, head falling back. His hips jerked up into your fist, but he didn’t fight for dominance. "Yes… I...I like that. Keep talking."

The praise kink hit you like a revelation. You smiled, leaning down to kiss his neck while continuing the slow, teasing strokes. "You’re doing so well. So hard for me. I love how you tremble when I touch you here." Your thumb circled the head, spreading precum. Another broken whimper escaped him.

You positioned yourself over him, rubbing his cock against your slick entrance. "You want this?" you asked, voice low.

"Please" he begged, eyes glassy. "Want to feel you… want you to take me."

You sank down onto him slowly, taking every inch. The stretch was delicious and Minghao’s hands fisted the sheets as he fought not to thrust up. "Fuck… you feel incredible" he gasped.

"So do you" you moaned, settling fully. "Filling me perfectly. Such a good cock for me."

His reaction was immediate: hips twitching, a needy whine leaving his throat. You began to move, rolling your hips in a steady rhythm, riding him with control. Minghao’s head pressed back into the pillows, lips parted, hair fanned out messily. He looked wrecked already, utterly submissive beneath you.

"Talk to me" he pleaded between gasps. "Tell me I’m good."

"You’re so good, Minghao" you praised, bracing your hands on his chest as you rode him harder. "Taking everything I give you. Looking so pretty like this, falling apart for me. I could watch you forever."

Each word seemed to unravel him further. His hands finally moved to grip your thighs, but lightly, seeking permission rather than demanding. You rewarded him by clenching around him, drawing out another moan. "Yes...fuck, yes. More. Please."

You leaned down, kissing him deeply while continuing to move. "My perfect model. So superior out there, but so submissive in my bed. You love this, don’t you? Love being praised while I take your cock."

He nodded frantically, eyes squeezed shut. "Love it… love when you say those things. Don’t stop."

You sat back up, riding him with purpose now, chasing your own pleasure while feeding his need. The sounds he made: whimpers, breathy moans, soft pleas for more praise, were intoxicating. Sweat glistened on his skin. You traced the lines of his abs, telling him how gorgeous he was, how well he filled you, how proud you were of him for letting go.

Minghao’s praise kink ran deep. Every compliment made him twitch inside you, made his movements more desperate beneath your control. He didn’t try to flip you or take over; he surrendered completely, letting you set the pace, letting you use him exactly how you wanted.

"You’re close, aren’t you?" you asked, grinding down particularly deep. "Going to come for me like a good boy?"

"Yes...please, I’m so close." His voice cracked beautifully. "Need you to tell me… tell me I can."

"Come for me, Minghao" you commanded softly, one hand sliding up to cup his cheek. "You’ve been so perfect tonight. Let go. Fill me up while I ride you."

That was all it took. He cried out, body tensing as he came hard, pulsing deep inside you. The sight and feel of him pushed you over the edge moments later, clenching around him as pleasure crashed through you. You rode out both your orgasms, murmuring more praise until he was trembling and oversensitive.

Finally, you collapsed onto his chest, both of you breathing heavily. Minghao’s arms wrapped around you tentatively, as if afraid you’d disappear. You stroked his hair, pressing soft kisses to his forehead.

"You were amazing" you whispered. "So good for me."

He let out a shaky laugh, still hazy. "I… didn’t expect that. The way I just… gave in."

You lifted your head to look at him. "It suits you. The control you carry every day, you don’t have to hold it here. Not with me."

Minghao’s eyes searched yours, vulnerability clear now that the heat had cooled slightly. "No one else has ever seen this side. I don’t let them." His fingers traced patterns on your back. "Don’t make me regret it."

"I won’t" you promised, kissing him gently. "The industry can have the difficult, superior Minghao. I want this one too, the one who melts when I tell him he’s perfect."

He hid his face in your neck, embarrassed but pleased. The arrogant mask was gone entirely tonight, replaced by quiet contentment. You stayed like that for a long while, connected and warm, the city lights twinkling far below.

Eventually, you cleaned up and slipped under the sheets together. Minghao pulled you close, uncharacteristically clingy. "Stay the night" he murmured against your hair.

You smiled. "Wasn’t planning to leave."

You both stayed like that for a few minutes, silent.

Then you started "So, about that praise kink..."

"Shut up"