RIDING SEUNCHEOL'S FACE LIKE FULL-BLOWN SITTING AND GRINDING ON IT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH
YUUUUUUUP PREACH IT GURLLL YOU COULDNT TELL ME CHEOL ISNT A CERTIFIED MUNCH OHMYLORD THE NASTINESS THAT IM ABOUT TO WRITE OOOF-
Sit On It
Pairing: bf! scoups x f!reader
Genre: the nastiest smut i will probably ever write (MDNI), face sitting, praise, power play (slight), cunnulingus
Description: you make cheol’s terrible day so so much better by finally fulfilling his biggest fantasy-you sitting on his face.
Note: hyperventilating just by thinking about sitting on his beautiful face, eyebrows furrowed, big arms wrapped around my thighs- UNHOLY THOUGHTS BEGONE XJAJAKANNSOQJAIA (also, not proofread, as per usual💔)
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here’s the thing-a lot of things that you and cheol did in the bedroom was relatively new to you, considering that your previous lovers (if you can even call them that by the lack of effort they put) were selfish and conceded. so when you two started dating, and eventually sleeping together, it was surprising to experience being with someone who was so…giving, almost catering to all of your needs.
that man, if he could, he would spend every waking moment of his between your legs, either lapping and licking and sucking on your sweet pussy, or pounding into it with the force that makes the whole bed move, never mind your body.
still, there was one thing you two still have yet to try. something he has expressed he would love to do-or, well, for you to do to him.
or rather to his face.
naturally, he respected your wishes and you saying ‘no’ to his proposal. but you could see how pouty he turns every time he tries to ask if maybe you have changed your mind yet, only for you to vigorously shake your head.
it’s not that you don’t want to, it’s just…
it’s one thing to have him lay between your legs, lapping on your juices and make you soak both his face and his sheets.
it’s an entirely different thing to have that control over him-over the situation- and just grind on his face, to make yourself cum all over it, when usually he’s the one to usually make you cream all over his face.
and you thought your answer wouldn’t change. not for a while at least.
…well. about that.
you just felt so bad. he came back from work visibly under stress, his thick eyebrows set in a frown so deep they were almost touching.
he barely said anything to you, a clear sign that one wrong word could set him off, hence why he’s avoiding any conversation that could leas up to that.
he immediately locked himself up in the shower for a while, before he came back and went directly to your room, laying flatly on his back. his naked chest rose up and down in shallow and stressed sighs, face hidden in the elbow of his arm that he threw over his gorgeous face.
he just looked so…tense, you felt like you had to do something.
and so, before you knew it, you let your shorts and panties hit the floor, your (actually, cheol’s) shirt following next.
he was just laying there, deep in thought, that he didn’t ever hear you walk across the room, didn’t even pay too much attention to the mattress dipping under your weight as you crawled towards him.
it was only when you forcefully removed his arm from his face that he was ready to say something, mean things to snap at you just on the tip of his tongue immediately dying the moment he registered your nakedness.
at first, he was ready to decline your offer, ready to say that he wouldn’t be too gentle on you right now if you two decided to have sex, that he would use you rather than love you. and that is something he wouldn’t allow to happen, not with you.
but then.
instead of straddling his hips, you went ahead and put your other leg.
on the other side of his shoulder.
cheol just stares up at you, at your gorgeous body, an angle making him both salivate and his lips completely dry, your sweet pussy that he loved more than almost anything in this world hovering over his chin, so close yet so far away.
cheol followed the trail that is your body-your wetness right in front of his eyes, followed by your soft tummy, the curves of your waist connecting right into your chest where your soft and bouncy tits stood proudly, and lastly your visibly shy and nervous face.
he could feel himself panting already, ready to actually suffocate under your weight if you would so kindly let him. but despite his urges and needs, he waited. waited for you to make the first move.
waited for you to take control.
gulping one last time, in low and raspy voice you asked him one final question.
“still want me to sit on it, baby?”
and so here you were, head thrown back as the moans flew freely out of your mouth. almost like an instinct, like an animal, you were unconsciously grinding all over his face, your juices smeared all over his mouth, cheeks, and even nose. and yet, cheol just continued to lap on your pussy like a good boy that he was.
he was so so loud as well, you can’t honestly remember if you have ever heard him be so vocal, maybe even more vocal than you. his groans were bordering on animalistic ones, vibrations coming from his mouth traveling through your pussy, through your quivering tummy and shaky chest, all the way to your ears.
his big and strong arms were strongly wrapped around your thighs, locking them in place, so even if you wanted to move, cheol wouldn’t allow you to.
your hands were so indecisive, going from strongly holding onto the headboard, to leaning back on one, hand pressed into his chest that was tight from the lack of the air, while the other was holding onto his hair, pulling on it as you were grinding all over his beautiful face.
you peaked over your tits to look at his face, only to see his eyes closed in pleasure, eyebrows now furrowed in pure ecstasy instead of anger. you notice his eyes trying to open for a second, only for them to roll back into his head the moment you circle your hips again.
and the noises-god, it was so loud and nasty, it was all the more turn on.
you were just moving your hips, sometimes back and forth, properly grinding on his hungry lips, sometimes just making circular motions, smearing your precum all over his face.
which he seems to like so much, as every time you did it, you could feel his hips buckle upwards into the air and his moans travel through your pussy.
his tongue was splitting your lips apart before dipping inside your hole, collecting your sweetness on his tongue before swallowing it, the tip of his tongue then lapping at your clit for a second before doing it all over again. you swore, it almost looked like he was passionately making out, except it was with your pussy and not with you.
you were worried that you might be too heavy, that you were suffocating him, but that seems to be exactly what he wanted, as any time you tried to raise your hips a bit and let him breathe, he would just harshly pull you back down, a sound somewhere between disapproval and warning leaving him before he goes back to being a moaning mess.
it actually came so naturally to you- being in control. you weren’t even aware just how much control you had over him right at this moment. you were the one that set the pace, the one that used your hold on his hair to move his face in the direction that you wanted him to, the one who was a babbling mess, words like “such a good boy for me” and “fuck, just like that, baby, you do it so good” involuntarily leaving your mouth.
and cheol, just like a good boy you claimed he was, took whatever you gave him.
he was so lost in the pleasure, that he didn’t even notice just how close he was to cumming untouched until your hips started buckling out of control as well, moans getting breathier the closer you were getting to creaming all over his face.
before you knew it, you harshly pulled on his hair to push his face further into your pussy as you threw your head back, a loud scream escaping you as you reached your orgasm and came all over his face, your cum smearing all over his lips and chin as he tried to clean it all up, to swallow it, to lose himself in the pleasure for just a bit longer.
after you became sensitive, you recoiled away from his touch, finally being able to lift your hips away from his face and let him breathe again.
upon you lifting yourself up, cheol uses his newfound to take one deep breath, shakily filling his lungs with fresh air. he wasn’t even aware of just how oxygen deprived he was until he tried looking up at you only for everything to become very very blurry for him.
you two just stayed like that for a minute or so, both looking at each other as your chests were heaving.
and as you were looking at each other, a clear agreement was concluded between you two as you two were trying to come back to your sanities.
could you please do an alphabet nsfw with suengcheol?? thankss
NSFW ALPHABET - C. SEUNGCHEOL
-> pairing : choi seungcheol x fem!reader
-> words count : 1.9k words
-> genre : pure smut
-> warnings : dom!seungcheol x sub!reader, body description, nipple play, biting, praising, begging, teasing, unprotected sex, voice kink, masturbation (m. & f.), daddy kink & sir kink, spanking, overstimulation, lingerie, a single mention of foot fetish, oral (f. & m. receiving), deepthroating, fingering, hair pulling, toys, dirty talk
+ the way i'm depicting seungcheol does not represents him, it's only a work of fiction
-> 18+ content below, minors DNI
-> author's note : here it is ! there was a lot of demand for this one, so i hope you'll all like it !
-> sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !
-> masterlist | svt masterlist
A - AFTERCARE
Princess treatment king over here will be on his feet the second you’ve come back down from your orgasm to get you a wash cloth, a glass of water and something to eat if you’re hungry. He loves aftercare with all his heart, bonding like that after such an intense moment and getting to take care of you makes him the happiest man on earth.
B - BODY PARTS (favourite body part of theirs and their partners)
He’s not afraid to admit that he’s particularly fond of your boobs. He just cannot help it if his eyes are always immediately drawn to them, can he ? They’re so plush and pretty, he just wants to bury his head in between them, kiss them and make you moan. Whenever you’re wearing a top or a dress that has a deeper cleavage, he’s extra touchy, extra protective and extra in love. Sometimes, you’d be talking, and he won’t be able to stop his eyes from looking down. And when you tell him that your eyes are up here, he just smirks lazily (hot).
Is it necessary to mention that it is his biceps that are the most attractive ? They’re just so bitable, and he finds it so cute when you randomly sink your teeth into his muscles. Seungcheol knows not to be around you when he just comes back from the gym because the single view of his congested biceps is enough to make you go feral. But honestly, he loves it when you drown him in praises, or just zone out when his biceps are exposed. Just as he is not ashamed of his love for your boobs, you are not ashamed of your love for his biceps and he likes it that way.
C - CUM
Doesn’t mind the mess at all, on the contrary, it gives him an excuse to take care of you and clean you up after you are done. Though, he will want to be sure you’re both safe before stopping using condoms.
D - DIRTY SECRET
He gets off on the sound of your voice so much. Hearing you moan, or make a satisfied sound, even when you’re not doing anything naughty has him hard almost on command. It’s almost comical at this point how much hearing your pleasure turns him on. You know that he loves to hear you in the bedroom, that he loves it when you scream his name, but you don’t know that innocent phone calls when he’s away from work can get him just as worked up.
E - EXPERIENCE
This man is hot as hell, and I can bet my entire closet that he had a lot of sex, with a lot of different partners. He’s experienced and he’s definitely confident about his ability to satisfy you.
F - FAVOURITE POSITION
Seungcheol definitely has a soft spot for doggystyle because well, bending you over and having you at his mercy is his favourite hobby after all. He also loves to take you against the wall, holding you in his strong arms, feeling your nails digging into his biceps and his eyes fixated on the eye your tits are bouncing. From time to time, he lets you get on top, and he cannot deny how much he enjoys it as well.
G - GOOFY (are they more serious or not in the moment ?)
He’s more on the serious side of the spectrum. Doesn’t mean you cannot have a laugh with him during sex, but he’s always so passionate and intense that it naturally is more serious.
H - HAIR
Clean guy, he has it trimmed regularly for his own comfort and for yours too.
I - INTIMACY (are they romantic ?)
He’s a lover at heart, but he’s also often too horny to think about romanticism. So I’d say that it is fifty fifty. Though, no matter the context, he’ll always have a sweet nickname for you. Even when he degrades you, he soothes it with a baby or pretty. And praise. So much praise.
J - JACK OFF
I think Cheol is the type of guy who gets his frustration out with an orgasm. So it happens quite often that he masturbates on his own when he’s stressed about something. He’s usually quick with it, focused only on getting his release. The best way to get him there obviously is when he has you on the other line, either talking him through it or touching yourself too. It’s what gets him through the long months away from you on tour.
K - KINKS
Dare I say the obvious but he definitely has a sir or daddy kink. It’s obvious to everyone at this point. This man loves being seen as dependable, he loves it that you rely on him for a lot of things, and that extends to the bedroom too, of course. Along with that comes spanking, of course, again. He’s patient and kind, but when you do piss him off, he loves to bend you over and make you count as he gives you your punishment, hearing your voice break as he goes on and on is a turn on as well. Obviously, nipple play is one of his favourites too. He could spend hours just playing with your boobs and he would make no complaints. Cheol loves to spoil you beyond what you asked for. That entails overstimulation, of course, but also buying so many lingerie sets that you don’t even know where to store them anymore. It stirs something very primal and possessive in him to see you wearing something he picked for you and paid for you.
L - LOCATION (favourite places to do it)
Having his way with you, bent over his at home desk when he cannot find inspiration ? Yes and yes. He loves the bedroom as well, of course. And I think he might have a thing for fucking you on the floor too, laying you down on the rug of the living room and just doing it right there ? It really gets him going.
M - MOTIVATION (what turns them on)
Wearing a top or a dress with a deep cleavage. When you make it clear to people that he is your boyfriend, that you are his. Similarly, when you get possessive over him. When you taste something particularly good and let out a moan. When you taunt and tease him.
N - NO
Foot fetish. Like, he doesn’t judge, but he doesn’t understand either, and he finds feet disgusting. Not his type of things at all.
O - ORAL
He loves oral, but I think he’s more of a receiver than a giver. Of course, he will never let an opportunity to spoil his girl pass, even more when you are wearing one of the lingerie sets he bought for you. But he’d rather please you with his fingers or with his cock. When he does eat you out though, he’s committed to it until your thighs are shaking around his head. He knows the perfect rhythm, alternating between sucking on your clit, lapping at your folds and pushing his tongue inside, all while he’s pressing down on your lower abdomen. He uses it as a reward when you’ve been good enough, too.
A head pusher all the way, it’s just so obvious. There’s just something about seeing you on your knees, looking up at him with your doe eyes and eager to please him. Cheol always keeps a hand tangled in your hair, pulling you away from his cock just to tease, or using that leverage to push you to take his cock deeper. His guilty pleasure ? Feeling your nails sink into his thighs when he starts to fuck your mouth. The noises you make around him ? Heaven. And when he’s done abusing your throat, he’ll give you whatever you want.
P - PACE
Quick and deep. He always gives you good prep, so he can just slide right in to the hilt first try. And then, he picks up the pace immediately, rapid and intense, making your body move up and down with the force of his thrusts.
Q - QUICKIE
He’s all in for them. You want to grab him quickly before he goes on stage ? Absolutely. He needs to finger you in that pretty skirt before you join your friends for the night ? Yes, and yes again. He will sometimes give you a lecture about how it is irresponsible but he gives in to you everytime.
R - RISK (do they like to experiment ?)
He’s open to suggestions of course, and since he has lots of experiences, I think he tried a lot of things already. He’s very aware of his own boundaries already, so he might be a bit more reluctant to try something new on him. Though, he’s all in making your fantasies come to life, and helping discover more about what you like and what you don’t.
S - STAMINA
Cheol does have a lot of stamina since he does a lot of physical activities on the daily. I think what might stop him is his knee injury. It was a big one and it is still fairly fresh. And as a dancer with a fucked up knee myself, I just know sex and certain positions can exhaust the articulation quite quickly.
T - TOYS
Definitely wants to use them on you mainly to tease, not too fond of you using them on him though. That is to say, he will absolutely use vibrators, dildos or rose toys on you. I can see him buying you a toy just slightly smaller than his dick for when he goes on tour, keeping you on your toes when he comes back.
U - UNFAIR (how much they like to tease)
He definitely likes to tease from time to time. He’s more keen on giving you what you want most of the time, but if you get onto his nerves or if he needs to let out pent up frustration, he will definitely tease : making you spell out what you want him to do to you, not hitting the right spots on purpose, making you beg for him until you’re desperate. However, he will always cave in in the end.
V - VOLUME (how loud they are)
Not that loud, he mostly lets out grunts, groans and low moans. But he talks a lot - praises about how good you look and how good you feel around him, nicknames or dirty comments. He sometimes holds back his own sounds just to hear you because it turns him on way too much.
W - WILD CARD
He has definitely recorded and hidden some of your moans in the background of songs. When you recognized your voice, you definitely hit his chest and he just stood there with a huge cocky smirk on his face.
X - X-RAY
We all know he has a huge dick, like way beyond average and very thick. No need to say that he needs to prep you real good, especially with the way he fucks you roughly.
Y - YEARNING (how high is their sex drive)
Pretty high sex drive, he uses it as his stress relief too and since his life is full of stressful events, he has a lot to let out on you. He loves to spend his few days off rolling in bed with you.
Z - ZZZ (how fast they fall asleep)
As mentioned before, Cheol gives top tier aftercare, and that goes with watching over you until you fall asleep curled up on his chest. He always kisses your forehead and says I love you before you fall asleep and before he does - even if you’re already deep into the world of dreams.
-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.
Genre: shamless smut (MDNI), piv sex, oral (both receiving), mentions of the ex (ew), hickeys and scratches, no protection (don’t be silly wrap the willy guys, don’t make me smack you all),marking in general, possessive choi seungcheol, smallest amount of spanking, squirting
Description: after spending the night with the CEO and (unsuccessfully) trying to sneak away, Choi Seungcheol asks you to stay the whole day and later on, even the night. Will you say yes?
Or
Basically part 2 to “Stay The Morning?”
Note: late present from me to you for 1000 followers on tumblr and 10k on tiktok🥰🫶 and also because i had the chance of smelling creed aventus aka the perfume cheol uses more regularly than the one i smelled that inspired part one of this and i got the urge to suck this mans dick so….bon appetit🥰
Warnings: yet again barely proofread lol im sorry i just hate doing that
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“take that dress off and get back in here, i want cuddles…and maybe something more.”
and who were you to deny him anything?
well, you were you, and so naturally you cross your arms over your chest, tilting your head to the side as a playful smile spreads on your face, in a mockingly offended voice you said “i’m not taking anything off or letting you anywhere near me until you brush your teeth and feed me something. what, you thought the last night was completely free? you’re a businessman, you should know better honey.”
cheol chuckles deeply as he stretches, the blanket slowly sliding down his bare torso, giving you a delicious view of his chest, ribs becoming more prominent the further he reaches with his hands above his head.
groaning in satisfaction, he then throws the whole blanket off of him before sitting on the edge of the bed, softly messing with his bed hair. looking at you with the cutest smile, he then gets up.
in only his boxers. the muscles all over his body softly flexing. his thighs looking deliciously big as he takes the slow steps towards you.
sweet baby jesus.
the moment he’s standing right in front of you in his naked glory, you feel your throat go dry with need and desire.
well i’ll be damned, i already got my christmas present, and it’s not even december.
almost as if he can sense your thoughts, cheol chuckles deeply before quickly dipping his head lower so he can press a gentle kiss on your neck, his tongue lightly grazing your skin. goosebumps irrupt all over your skin at his action, a shaky breath leaving your mouth as he moves away a little, just enough for his face to end up right in front of your own.
staring at your eyes, his own a deep shade of brown, almost black with desire, cheol slowly exhales, almost like he’s trying to control himself.
stretching to his original height, he then takes ahold of your dress with his fingers, lightly tugging on it.
“you should go take a shower while i make breakfast, this dress must be uncomfortable to wear. i will have someone deliver you some clothes before you’re done in the bathroom.”
you raise an eyebrow, amusement playing in your eyebrows.
“or you could, y’know, give me one of your shirts. like all the normal guys do.”
something dark suddenly appears in his eyes, the little smile that has been tugging on the edges of his lips disappears at your words.
he takes another slow step towards you, so that there’s barely any space left between your warm bodies. looking down on you, he darkly says “i’m not like other men. you should know that until know, baby.”
you swallow hardly, but not out of fear or anything like that.
you swallow because that was so fucking sexy of him.
good lord, i need him again, as soon as possible.
he then slowly kisses your cheek, like a gentleman that he is, before he takes ahold of your hand and starts pulling you out of the bedroom.
“c’mon, i’ll show you where the bathroom is and how everything works. any special wishes for breakfast? anything you prefer or not? allergies? would you like coffee or tea maybe?”
you chuckle at his questions, quickly stopping him to gently kiss his cheek before looking at him with your doe eyes.
“coffee is fine, i’m not that big on breakfast but you have spent all of my energy last night, so maybe something light but filling would be good. and i’m not allergic to anything, not that i know at least. now, before you start to terrorise the kitchen, brush your teeth, romeo.”
you push him through the entrance of the bathroom door, his skin soft and gentle to the touch as you do so.
cheol just chuckles before he starts rummaging through his drawers, finally finding you a spare toothbrush so you both can get rid of the morning breath.
as you stand side by side, dutifully brushing your teeth, you both sneak glances of each other in the mirror.
you eyes focus on his bare chest and how they move with every little movement, how his soft stomach jiggles a bit too, as well as the dark happy trail on his lower stomach. the way his biceps pops put by him holding his arms so high is just as delicious as the rest of him.
his own eyes are trained on your face, how beautiful it looks with barely any makeup from last night left. but also because he’s only a man after all, he lets his eyes also travel down your body, lingering on how your boobs jiggle as you continue brushing your teeth.
what can he say, he’s a weak man.
after you’re done, you kick him out of the bathroom in order to take a quick shower, almost letting a “wanna join me?” slip out of your mouth, but he leaves before you can do as much.
the warm water feels amazing on your aching muscles, relaxing you so much so that you almost fall asleep while standing.
after a few minutes, you finish up in the shower, looking around for the clothes that he promised you, but to no avail.
just as you open the door to yell for help, you notice a bag waiting for you on the doorstep.
opening it, your jaw drops at what you find inside.
white lingerie. with a white slip on and a white silky robe, accompanied by white house slippers.
this sneaky little-
“so, is this what the big-shot and ceo of the prestigious company, choi seungcheol, dreams at night? what he lusts for and what he desires?”, you say as you walk in the kitchen, crossing your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him as you wait for an answer, signaling to your outfit with your head.
cheol just smiles innocently, his eyes just two lines from how wide he’s smiling.
“no, this is what a simple man who you have wrapped around your finger, cheol, dreams of.”
you roll your eyes with a smile at the smoothness of his answer, failing to add anything else to his answer.
he then pulls out a chair and points with his hand for you to sit on it. not used to this type of treatment from men, you almost giggle as you sit down.
he sits right beside you, taking your plate in his hand and slowly filling it with all the food that he made (which is way too much amount of food for two people, or so you think until you see him devour everything like he hasn’t eaten in months.)
you chat lightly as you eat, laughing at some of his very badly made jokes-is the laugh out of pity or because he’s just so cute? you will never tell know.
“so, any plans for today?”, he suddenly asks you.
you look up, pondering for a moment if you had anything planned, but nothings comes to mind.
“no, not really. maybe clean my apartment a bit? haven’t done that in a minute, understandably so.”, you chuckle emotionlessly, thinking about how your heartbreak prevented you from functioning normally.
cheol just gives you a weird look, not understanding why you would say that.
it is in that moment that you realise that he doesn’t know anything that has happened with your ex three weeks ago.
you reluctantly sigh, looking him directly in the eyes. “not to be party pooper, but i actually broke with my ex just a few weeks ago, because i found him cheating on me. with his coworker. in my bed. in my apartment. in my silk sheets. that i paid for. with my money.”
for a second there’s no sound coming from either of you, when you suddenly starts giggling a bit, wiping away a little imaginary tear, you continue “you could say that i’m a bit bitter-“, and then you take a look at him.
cheol just looks at you, or rather somewhere past you, his eyes murderous, hand gripping his fork so tightly it could snap in two any second.
your breath catches in your throat, an unfamiliar emotion overcoming you.
finally looking you directly in the eyes, still with the same look in them, he asks darkly “what’s his name?”
you gulp, looking away as you quietly say “it’s not important, I don’t want to think about it anymore.”
sensing that your mood has changed for the worse, cheol breathes in deeply and then out as a way to calm himself down before taking your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of it as he quietly says “for the record, he doesn’t realise just what hell of a woman he lost. and that his loss is somebody else’s gain, so. he’s stupid, who in their right mind would cheat on you?”.
your eyes move to look at him, his eyebrows scrunched a bit as if this is hurting himself.
you can’t remember the last time that a man went out of his way to make you feel so seen and appreciated. it makes your heart do this weird thing. like it stops beating for a moment but also like it sped up by a big notch.
you smile gently at him before you lean towards him and, for the first time since you two woke up, gently kiss his lips for a moment.
pulling away, you just respond “let’s finish eating before it cools off.”
seungcheol, as if in a daze from your kiss, just nods a bit, a dopey smile taking up half of his face.
you quickly finish up, helping him put the dishes into the washer before he leads you to the humongous leather couch that is right in front of even more humongous tv.
he sits down first, right in the middle of it before he pulls you down. seemingly he had a vision for everything that is happening right now, because before you can even get comfortable, he pulls your legs over his thighs, letting a hand rest on the bare thigh, massaging it lightly as he wraps his other arm around your shoulders, your head falling on his shoulder as he does.
well, okay then you think to yourself as you wrap your own arm around his bare stomach, rubbing his hip gently.
he turns on the tv, more so as a background noise, before he starts asking you all sorts of questions- what your hobbies are, who the two friends from last night were, where you are from as in like the city, you favourite colour and many other questions, the weirdest one being “have you ever thought how the dogs think? like are they barking in their mind, or is it maybe english or korean? or whatever the language of the country they’re in is? what about deaf dogs?”
you spend hours talking and laughing, for the most part you. he tells you the stories of his childhood, stories of his brother and how he accidentally smacked him with a baseball bat on the hand which inevitably ended up being broken, how he fell from the tree, stories about his friends who he met in college and still talks to on the daily, calling them “his kids”, all while he traces the hickeys and bite marks on your neck and shoulders.
you two talk until your mouth gets dry and he fetches you a glass of water for it.
deciding that he should take a shower, he says that you can put whatever you want on the tv and watch it while he does so, saying he won’t take long before he disappears behind the door.
you turn something random on, a documentary you think??? when you suddenly realise that you haven’t been on your phone the entire time, just like you haven’t heard from your friends since the last night.
looking around for it, you find it on the little table in front of the large window, the one you stood in front of as seungcheol kissed you for the first time.
you turn it on to see hundreds of messages and missed calls from jihyo and sana.
the last message from your group chat read “that’s it, if she doesn’t answer in the next 10 minutes, i’m calling the police.”
the message was sent 7 minutes ago.
lucky.
you sheepishly reply with an “heyyy guys haha what’s up”
you immediately get spammed with the messages, variating from “WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN” to “WAS THE DICK GOOD”.
i think it’s pretty clear which one of them sent which message.
you respond that you are still at cheol’s to jihyo’s message and that you probably will be home later tonight and that you can meet up then for the detailed story time of your escapades, and you respond with a photo of your collarbones and neck full of hickeys to sana’s message, sending a little wink emoji.
you can see that both of them are losing their minds, writing messages all in cap locks. just as you were about to read them all, you hear the door of the bathroom unlock.
you write a quick “gotta go, the man of the hour is back from his shower, gotta go and make him sweaty again ;)” before turning your phone off and focusing on him.
the sight makes you want get down on your knees and send a quick thank-you prayer to the god.
because there stood cheol, in all his naked and wet glory, black wet hair messily falling on his forehead.
and he only had a towel wrapped around his hips.
you unconsciously bite your lip as you watch him, sitting up straight as you see him walk towards you.
he finally stops right in front of you, his hips on the same level as your face. you go from looking at his happy trail to slowly raising your eyes to look him the eyes, his bulky form towering over you.
his dark eyes are trained on your face, his eyes as dark as midnight as he watches your teeth bite your lips in need.
his hand comes to your face, before his thumb slowly pulls on your bottom lip, releasing it from your teeth.
you don’t put any effort in closing your lips, letting them stay agape.
the same thumb starts to rub your lip, lightly dipping inside your mouth, your tongue poking it unconsciously.
suddenly, in the deepest voice ever, he says two words that make you completely lose all your self control.
“pretty girl.”
you grab his arm and pull him down towards you. he gasps in shock as he starts falling down. luckily, he has fast reflexes, so he quickly grabs the backrest of the couch, so he’s bent over you.
you loop your arms around his neck and pull him closer so you can kiss him.
cheol groans the moment he feels your lips on his, tongue prodding, asking for entrance to his own mouth. he obviously grants it, making your tongues meet in a battle for dominance.
you try pulling him even closer, making him kneel with one knee between your own legs. it is a wonder that the towel still stayed on up until this point. adamant on changing that, you use one hand to harshly pull it away, making his half hard on spring free.
like a woman possessed, you quickly use your hold on his neck to pull him to the side, making him fall on the couch.
just as he adjusts so he’s sitting comfortably on it, you slowly stand up in front of him.
eyes trained on you, unblinking, cheol’s mouth fall open when he sees you taking off the white robe, proceeding to take the white slip off too.
cheol never believed in heaven, but as you stood in front of him, in white matching lacy lingerie, with all of his marks on your body from last night, looking like an angel, he truly started to believe that this is the closest to the heaven that he will get.
reaching with his hands towards you, so he can pull you on his lap, you lightly redirect them, holding them in your own.
you are apparently set on giving this man a heart attack at ripe age of 29, because you then proceed to drop to your knees.
right in front of him, between his legs.
with his hard dick right in front of your face.
his dark eyes, pupils blown with desire, trace every movement you make.
you first adjust your hair a bit, so it’s not getting in your way, looking at him with what he can only describe as hunger of a lioness.
keeping the eye contact, you slowly lick the whole palm of your hand, making sure that it’s extra wet with saliva.
cheol gulps.
the moment that that very same hand wraps around his dick, he’s throwing his head back, a loud gasp escaping him at how sensitive it feels. his back comes off the couch, hand looking for anything to grasp on, only finding his towel instead.
you pump him a few times, looking at him, focused solely on his face, to see how he’s reacting to your touch-to you.
his eyes flutter shut, a groan rumbling somewhere from the depths of his chest, his torso expanding with every deep breath he has to take in order to control himself and not cum on your face this very second.
god, that last thought didn’t help him, at all.
you pump his dick some more, your hand not even being able to wrap itself around his dick fully, making you shiver at the thought of having the very same dick inside of you later.
deciding that enough is enough, you slowly lower your face when he’s not paying attention, until your lips wrap themselves around the head of his cock.
cheol moans the second he feels your wet mouth on him.
his eyes barely open themselves, he basically forces himself to keep them open, watching as you slowly push your head down more and more, until half of his dick is inside your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, making you pull back up.
you repeat the motion a few times just as slowly as you did the first time, enjoying his moans and groans every time the head of his dick hits the back of your throat.
deciding that you want him to be a complete mess, you start bobbing your head faster, hand wrapping itself around the base that your mouth can reach.
god, do you love the fact that his dick is so big you can’t even suck it fully.
something you certainly couldn’t say about your ex.
your mouth engulfs him, the wetness of it making him see stars. and when your tongue does that little things where it first wraps around the head, before sliding along his slit, right where he’s the most sensitive?
cheol sends a prayer up in hopes that he won’t cum right this second.
a strand of hair falls into your face, making you scrunch your face in mild annoyance.
seungcheol jumping to opportunity, quickly gathers all of your hair in his hand, making a ponytail out of it.
and as you go on, bobbing your head up and down his dick, saliva sliding down til it reaches his balls. cheol uses his grip on your hair to control your movements, moving your head in fast pace. you choke repeatedly as his dick hits the back of your throat, and seungcheol seems to like that very much, letting out a groan every time he feels your throat close around the tip of his dick.
as tears stream down your face, you feel yourself being so wet, you fear you might start dripping all over his carpet.
god, you truly hope you aren’t, because that is one dry cleaners you cannot afford.
you watch his beautiful face, head thrown back, long and black eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, lips red from him biting on them to suppress his moans.
he’s so beautiful, if you could, you would stay right here, between his legs, just so you can watch his face in pleasure.
“fuck, baby, that mouth. you’re gonna make me cum, ah, shit. look so pretty on your knees for me, sucking on this cock.”, he raps out, every few words interrupted either by a moan or a groan.
you feel him move your head even faster, as well as his hips buckling upwards, a clear sign that he’s close.
“shit, gonna cum in that mouth of yours, ah fuck, baby- you gotta- gotta stop if you don’t want to swallow it- i- ah-.” he continues to blab, but you don’t pay him any mind, focusing on sucking the head every time he moves your head upwards, and tracing the little vein with your tongue every time he pushes it back downwards.
his moans get louder, his hold on your hair gets tighter, hips stuttering as he’s right there, on the brink of cumming.
you remove your mouth completely away from his dick, immediately replacing it with your hand. looking him directly in the eyes, you say the words that finally push him over the edge.
“cum for me baby, all over my face.”
and that does it for him, spurts of pearly white cum falling on your cheeks, nose and lips. the last few drops you catch with your mouth, wrapping your lips around his sensitive head again in favour of swallowing every last drop of his cum, making sure that nothing is wasted and that he’s as clean as possible.
he moans loudly at your action, pulling your head away because he can’t endure the delicious torture.
you both pant, his chest moving up and down fast, beads of sweat gathered around the crown of his head.
you take the opportunity to finally take a deep breath in, feeling a little bit lightheaded due to being deprived of real oxygen for this long.
cheol slowly opens his mouth, looking at the artwork that is your beautiful face decorated with his cum. with a thumb, he swipes a bit of it away, holding it in front of your mouth as an offer.
you don’t hesitate a second before you wrap your lips around his finger, sucking on it like it’s the most delicious thing you have ever tasted.
cheol groans at the sight, quickly using the same hand to wrap it around the back of your neck, pulling you upwards so that he can kiss you. his tongue invades your mouth, massaging your own in such an erotic way it makes you squeeze your thighs together.
with the other hand, he reaches for your thigh, wrapping around the back of it and pulling on it. you gasp at the sheer strength of this man, because he lifts you up from the floor solely by the hold he has on your leg. for a second, you fly through the air, until your knee finds the couch.
you quickly straddle him, careless sitting down on his lap, his dick rubbing against the lacy material of your panties. he gasps at the sensation, still sensitive from the best head he has ever gotten from a woman.
in order to save his dignity, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you against him so your hips lift a bit from his dick, his lips still eagerly kissing, biting and sucking on your lips as he does so.
your hands find their home on his cheeks, holding his handsome face as you kiss him back just as enthusiastically.
at some point, after a few minutes, your lips naturally separate, but they stay close. panting in each others mouth, you use your hold on his cheeks to lightly brush your thumbs against them in comfort.
he takes a deep breath before he says in a hoarse voice “fuck baby, even though you look like an angel, that mouth of yours is so devilish.”
a giggle escapes you, leaving a quick peck on the corner of his lips. “i’ll take that as a compliment.”
he takes the towel to wipe the remains of his cum off your face before he directs your head so it’s resting on his shoulder, leaving a fleeting kiss on your neck.
“gimme a few minutes baby, i will eat you out then so good, you’re gonna cry.”
and your only response is the shiver that runs down your spine.
for a few moments you just sit there on his lap, playing with his hair while his hands rub your back, lips leaving kisses every few seconds across your shoulders and neck.
you breathe in the smell of his shower gel and his natural smell, mixing in a way that it makes your eyes flutter shut on their own.
that’s another thing, you never found anyone to smell so good like you find cheol does. something about his natural smell is just so…him, and manly, and makes you feel safe and protected.
you wish you could stay here forever.
suddenly cheol’s kisses on your neck start to linger a bit longer, a bit wetter, and his hands start to stray a little bit more on your ass than usual.
you shift slightly just to get more comfortable as your legs started cramping, when you feel his half hard on. your mouth fall open upon realising that it’s showtime.
ever so slowly, you move your hips back, almost dragging your clothed pussy over his bare dick, making him inhale deeply at your action.
he lightly nibbles on the shell of your ear, before whispering directly against it “you little devil.”
you turn your head towards him, looking all innocent and coy as you say “but i thought i was an angel according to your previous statement?”
cheol narrows his eyes, before taking your thighs in his hand and picking you up slightly so he can basically slam you against the couch.
you gasp at the action, adrenaline filling your veins more so than the blood does.
he hovers over you, his hands caging you as he leans on them right beside your head.
you look at each other for a second, waiting to see who will play the first move, when suddenly, cheol rolls his hips right into your own, his dick catching on the lace of your panties.
you gasp at the action, nails immediately imbedding themselves into his back, eyes rolling so far back in your head you can see your thoughts.
“bad, bad girl. trying to play all innocent…”, he pauses before he leans even more in, so his lips are right against your ear again “…when just a few minutes ago you were choking on my dick, so prettily and desperately.”
unconsciously you inhale deeply, making him smirk a bit.
“what, don’t tell me you’re still thinking about it? still not satisfied? cumming down your throat wasn’t enough for you?”, and the condescending voice, the smirk, the satisfaction in his voice.
it pissed you off a bit.
harshly grabbing the back of his head, your nails digging into his scalp as you pull him in a harsh kiss, your other hand purposefully dragging your nails down his back, which makes him shiver.
you break the kiss off just as harshly before you answer to his question “no, i’m still not satisfied, so you better get to it, before i found somebody who is willing to do it.”
his eyes turn black with jealousy, fire lighting up in them. within milliseconds, he’s grabbing your neck and kissing you just as harshly as you kissed him, teeth biting harshly on your lips.
you moan as he continues to kiss you, almost like he wants to prove a point to you. teeth clashing, hands clawing at each other, his hand around your neck squeezing tighter and tighter, making you wrap your legs around his hips tighter and pull him into yourself as he does so.
he pulls away aggressively, and his next words sounding like a fact, like it’s written in the stars, linger in the air for a second.
“even if you wanted to, you could never find somebody who would fuck you as good as i do.”
eyes laser focused on each other, you just utter two words as a response.
“prove it.”
getting right to it, his mouth attaches itself on your neck, sucking even more hickeys to the pre-existing ones from last night. while his mouth is busy with marking your skin, his hand wiggles under your back, fishing for the bra clasp. once he finds it, he quickly undoes it, pulling it down your arms before throwing it somewhere over his shoulder with no care whatsoever, even when it sounds like it crashed into what suspiciously sounds like the vase he got from one of his business partners.
choosing not to care, he lets his lips travel from your neck, to your collarbones, over the navel of your breast, straying to one side so he can suck on one of your tits, softly biting your nipple that causes you to moan loudly and grasp his hair in your hands.
he does it for a few more seconds, letting his hand massage the tit that isn’t getting the same attention as the one in his mouth, before resumes kissing a trail down your body.
once he gets down to you hips, he looks up to you over his short bangs that are getting in his eyes. the said eyes look at you like a hawk, preying on you, excited to see your anticipation and shiny eyes looking back at him.
he just lets his lips and nose travel of the skin of your lower belly, making it flex from the tickling sensation. once they reach your left hip, he lets his lips envelope the skin there and suck on it, a hickey forming on its place.
letting his lips pop, he looks up at you as he lets his head move even lower, until his lips are hovering right over the lacy panties you are wearing.
you hold your breath as you wait to see what he next move will be.
god, you hope to god that he will just-
just as the thought crossed your mind, cheol puts his opened mouth over your clothed pussy, prodding at the covered slit with his tongue, paying the special attention to your clit. the fabric that is still on you makes his action all that more stimulating, making you throw your head back as you moan.
hands fly to his still wet hair, pulling on it harshly, maybe in hopes that you can pull him in deeper, make his tongue finally enter your hole.
almost as if he can read your mind, he pushes your underwear to the side with the two of his fingers. the moment he sees your pussy, glistening with wetness, his lips are on you, parting your lips with his tongue, entering your pussy. he swirls his tongue around the entrance, gathering all your precum before swallowing it all, moaning at the taste.
quickly he starts pulling on your underwear, mumbling something along the lines off “off, off, i need these off now.”, before he throws them over his shoulder too.
placing your legs so they are resting on his shoulders, he immediately prods with one of his fingers at your whole, letting your walls swallow it whole. his lips wrap themselves around your clit, sucking on it just the right way.
you close your eyes in pleasure, your desires finally being fulfilled just like you dreamed of them to be.
not only was choi seungcheol a walking dream, sex appeal on legs.
he was also between your legs.
he continues to fuck his finger in you, twisting his hand when he’s pushing it in and un-twisting it when pulling out.
after a minute or so, he pulls the finger completely out in favour of pushing two back in. you squeeze your thighs around his head as he does so, moaning his name.
“cheol…”
choosing to ignore you, he just speeds up his movements, tongue still playing with your clit.
you taste so good on his tongue, it makes cheol close his eyes and groan every time he swallows.
the longer he eats you out, the more careless and messy he gets. he lets saliva cover your whole pussy, almost dripping on his leather couch. he lets his fingers push in and out of you at merciless speed, the fingertips grazing your sweet spot every time he tries to reach deeper inside of your pussy.
it all makes you feel lightheaded, moaning mess, your back arch, so much so that your whole upper body almost lifts off the couch.
“ah! cheol, more, ple-please!”
cheol never one to deny his lady anything, just speeds up his motion, sucking on your clit while his tongue pries at your entrance along with his fingers.
just as you feel yourself on the brink of cumming, your moans getting so loud they ring inside of cheol’s ears, he pulls completely away, slowly getting on his knees to admire the mess that he made of you.
tears streaming down your cheeks, your hair making it look like you have a halo around your head.
your chest heave up and down as you try to regain some of the air, nipples rock hard under his gaze.
your skin so prettily lathered with the hickeys, marking what’s his.
cheol just then realises that he started calling you his inside his head, no other reason other than the fact that you earlier mentioned the possibility of going to other men to get what you want.
he will be damned before he lets that happen.
and then your pussy. god, it looks so pretty, glistening under the light, his spit mixed with your juices, smeared all around your lips and thighs.
cheol was never that interested in art that much, but he’s pretty sure that this-you, is what a masterpiece is supposed to look like.
he suddenly realises that you have been calling his name the entire time, whining and almost crying in frustration-in need.
“cheollie please just-just fuck me already.”, you say as you pull on him with the hold of your legs that have wrapped themselves around his hips.
he immediately leans down over you, caging you with his arms around your head, his lips immediately finding yours in a hungry kiss.
just as his hand reaches down to take his dick so he can finally push it inside your gaping pussy, he suddenly remembers.
fuck, he forgot the condom.
humming in your mouth, he mumbles against them “wait baby, I forgot the condom, let me just get it from the-“, but he feels your legs just tighten around his waist, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, preventing him from getting up.
you mumble through a kiss “if you get up now, i will cry and make myself cum, all without you.”
well, alright then.
cheol just groans at the thought of having his dick in your pussy, with no condom to get in the way of truly feeling the wetness of your pussy.
little to excitedly, he takes his dick in his hand, and for a second just teases your folds with his tip, sliding it up and down, catching on your clit as he pulls it down.
as you start whining softly in desperation, telling him “hurry up” in a soft voice, cheol decides that it’s time.
and then he’s pushing in.
you both gasp at the feeling- you at the mere girth of his cock, and he because of how wet it feels to have his dick in your pussy.
he pushes a bit more in, but once he feels resistance due to you clamping on him almost painfully, he just kisses your cheeks in comfort, mumbling against them “relax baby or i won’t be able to give you all of my cock.”
you breathe in and out in hopes that it will help you relax, and it does, with help of his kisses and his hand rubbing your waist in comfort.
after a minute or so, you nod as a way to tell him that it’s okay for him to move. he continues to pepper little kisses on your face as he pushes his dick more in, groaning every so often at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him.
when he finally bottoms out, cheol lets a big breath out, relieved that he didn’t cum, which he felt multiple times almost happen due to your tight little pussy milking him so much.
i can’t, not yet, she has to cum first before i do.
with that thought, he starts to slowly rock his hips, making a fluid motion out of it. he feels his tip grazing your sweet spot, which makes you gasp and moan lightly, as well as rocking your hips into his a little bit.
you turn your face towards him, your eyes telling him clearly what you want from him.
he immediately kisses you, tongues dancing a beautiful and harmonious dance for a second and then pulling away just to do the same not even a second later.
he continues with the slow pace, rolling hips so professionally it makes you second-guess his profession.
but once you breathlessly whisper “more” against his lips, he’s doubling his pace, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs.
you stop kissing him in favour of moaning directly in his face, which seungcheol seems to enjoy just as much as your kisses.
“feels good, baby? yeah? fuck, you moan so prettily, all for me, only for me, hm? nobody fucks you as good as i do right? the same way nobody begs for my dick as beautifully as you do.”
you try to focus on his words and to answer him, you truly do, but his cock filling your pussy, sliding in and out of you, and hitting your spot repeatedly makes you forget all and every thought, only being able to respond “yes yes yes” over and over.
he groans as your pussy pulses around him, making him quicken his pace even more, his hips and balls slapping almost violently against your skin.
the words keep leaving from his mouth, but you’re just too focused on enjoy him fucking you like nobody has ever before, that you don’t even answer a question he asked you.
seungcheol doesn’t like that.
he stops his hips from moving, and as you open your mouth to complain, he quickly leaves a strong spank on the side of your ass, a gasp leaving your mouth instead.
“i said- is this my pussy, pretty girl? nobody can fuck you the way i do, hm?”
his eyes as black as obsidian, looking for an answer in your tear filled ones.
you nod your head, moaning as you try to rock your hips into his.
cheol doesn’t like that either.
he spanks you one more time, just as hard, a little scream escapes you as he does. “use your words baby, or i won’t make you cum.”
you nod as you respond “yes, yes, only you can, nobody ever fucked me so good as you.”
he kisses you quickly, tongue teasing your lips for a second before pulling away to ask “who does this pussy belong to baby? remind me again.”, he finishes with another spank to your cheek.
you moan as you desperately respond “yours, belongs to you, only you, p-please stop teasing me-“.
before you can continue, he starts fucking you again, hips slamming into you that you feel yourself move upwards on the couch from the mere force.
you scream as he rocks his hips, tears freely falling from your eyes now. you don’t even realise just how tight your nails have imbedded themselves into his back, pretty sure that you are drawing blood from them.
not that cheol seems to mind, he just groans at every little thing you give him, groaning “yes baby, just like that” in your ear.
still, deciding to spare him an ER visit, you switch to pulling on his hair instead.
which seems to be an even better thing, because he in return moans so loudly, eyes scrunched up in pleasure as you do so.
“fuck baby, don’t do that or i’ll cum right now right inside you.”
the thought makes you bite your lips, as well as clam your walls even tighter around him.
he notices this, causing a little smirk to play on the edge of his lips. “oh? would my pretty girl like that? for me to cum inside you? to cream your walls? hm?”
he looks carefully for your reaction, hoping that he isn’t crossing any lines with what he’s saying. but as you nod your head quickly, desperately saying “please! please please please please cum, cum inside of me-“, he just groans, the thought of cumming inside you, painting your walls white while your pussy takes in every last drop makes him almost cum right there and there.
seeing that he can’t go on for much longer, he lets his fingers find your clit, rubbing it just as fast as he’s fucking you, putting on just the littlest of pressure on it, knowing that it’s enough to make you finish.
your scream echoes through the room, hands pulling on his soft but wet hair like a maniac, feeling your end nearing at rapid pace.
“i need you to cum for me princess, now, fuck, cream on it baby, lemme feel you-“
and it’s done, with a cry, you throw your head back, your thighs squeeze his hips and you cum. you cum so hard that you squirt a little all over his thighs, making a mess out of him.
he, seemingly also almost there, just needs a little bit of your help, mainly just you saying “cum, please, cum inside me, need it so bad cheollie-“, he thrusts once, twice before he’s cumming inside of you, moaning in your face as he does so.
rocking his hips for a bit, to make sure that every last drop of his cum is fucked deeply inside of your pussy, he then drops his whole dead body onto your own, his legs shaking from how hard his orgasm hit him.
although he is a bit heavy, you don’t complain at all, instead hugging him even closer, welcoming his bulky body to squish you. it’s almost like it makes you feel grounded, as well as helping you clear up your mind, haziness due to your own finish clearing up the longer he lays there on you.
you two just breathe heavily for a minute, trying to regain your breaths as you rub his back, while his lips softly kiss your neck and cheeks.
he turns your face to his own so that he can kiss you gently, rubbing his thumb on your cheek in comfort.
he breaks the kiss off, his boba eyes looking at you as he gently asks “are you okay baby?”
you just nod your head with a tired smile.
“i didn’t overdo it, right? everything was okay? wasn’t too much?”
your smile spreads a big wider as you whisper “it was perfect…you are perfect.”
he smiles a little before softly pecking your lips, stopping only at one kiss in favour of whispering back “you are the one that’s perfect…my baby.”
you just loop your hands around his neck to pull him towards you, kissing him deeply and slowly, letting all your feelings and words you don’t trust to say out loud speak for themselves through that kiss.
after a minute or so, you feel his dick slowly get hard again, making you realise that he hasn’t pulled out the entire time.
you softly say “sorry about the mess i made on your couch.”
cheol just chuckles as he responds “i could care less about the couch, especially not after i just had you squirt all over it.”
you shyly hide your face in his neck, groaning in embarrassment as he chuckles some more.
suddenly, he grabs your thighs before going to slowly stand up, all while still holding your body wrapped around his.
you gasp as you get picked up, clamping onto his dick as you feel the shift in the angle.
cheol just groans as he starts carrying you towards his room, spanking your ass one more time as he walks.
“i’m not done with you yet.”
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
after two more rounds of wild and fast sex, you two lay there on his bed, both on your sides as you face each other, a thin blanket covering your bodies as the sweat on your bodies starts to slowly cool off.
seungcheol just looks at your face, almost like he’s in awe that a woman like you is truly in his bed and that has given him a chance, running the back of his finger up and down your cheek as you two quietly talk in what now has turned a dark room. the night slowly crept on you two, which you didn’t even realise until you fell onto the bed after you had just finished riding him into oblivion.
night, which reminds you…
you should slowly go home now.
you push his silky black hair back, looking at his youthful face and small smile.
god he’s so beautiful, I want to see him again.
you smile small, a little bit of bittersweetness visible in it, as you say quietly“i should probably go home soon.”
his mood sours immediately, a pout replacing the smile on his cherry red lips.
the arm that has been wrapped around your waist under the blanket tightens, pulling you closer to his body, almost likes he’s trying to prevent you from getting up.
ever so quietly, he whispers in the mostly dark room “do you have to?”.
the lamp that is turned on and is your only source of light illuminates his handsome face, eyes sparkling from the said light, begging you not to go.
you smile sadly as you respond “i should.”
he stays quiet for a second, teeth gnawing on his lip as he thinks about your words.
you just lean in to leave one last kiss on his lips, letting your presence and smell linger for a bit before you pull away and start to get up.
as you are sitting on the edge of the bed, looking for your things, you hear him shuffle behind you, but don’t pay him any attention, thinking that he’s probably just going to walk you out.
which quickly changes once you feel his arms wrap around your hips from behind, face nuzzling in your neck.
you turn your head to look at him surprised, the top his head only greeting you in return.
he tightens his hug around your waist, his legs spread so that you’re basically sitting between them.
and then, in the quietest and most unsure voice he asks you.
“stay? please? tomorrow is sunday after all…and-and I don’t want you to leave… i don’t want this to be over yet…”
you unconsciously start pouting yourself at his voice, heart breaking at how sad he sounds that you have to go.
you fish with your point finger for his chin, saying a little “cheollie, look at me, please baby.”
after a second or two, he lifts his head from your shoulder, face red from the lack of oxygen.
you smile a little at him before you say “okay, i’ll stay, but tomorrow i really need to go, because i have work on monday and i can’t miss it.”
you pause for a second to gulp your nervousness down before continuing “and…”
he just looks at you with puppy eyes, seeing you get flustered in real time, but doesn’t say anything to interrupt you.
you just look at him a bit embarrassed as you finish “…who says that this has to end?”
cheol just blinks for a second before the implication of your words finally delivers in his head, making a big smile explode on his face.
quickly kissing you, he lets your bodies fall back on the bed, his arms still tightly wrapped around you, making it hard for you to turn around so you can kiss him properly.
Request: HORANGHAE 🐯🐯🐯🐯 I have a request I hope you write it or if you have already done or find it stupid or mid just ignore it .The scenario is "SVT s/o is h@rny so how would they tell to SVT" like because I have always seen SVT being in this scenario like them being h@rny and making move and s/o helps them and they have a moment but how would the scenario be when their s/o is h@rny
A/N: first of all — NEVER stupid, NEVER mid lol. i also can't believe i never wrote this?? i think i did but i just checked my masterlist but my eyes aren't catching any lol. if i wrote this before, ig we can consider it a ver 2 heheh.
Content: suggestive
the “say less.” crew — seungcheol, jun
you barely have to say anything. one look, one touch and he knows. and he’s on it immediately. grabs your hand, leads you away with zero hesitation. might smirk a little because knowing you want him first?? that’s his roman empire, im telling you.
will be flustered but he's not letting the chance go — joshua, dokyeom, seungkwan, dino
you whisper something suggestive or tug him closer and suddenly his brain is just poof. face turning red like a fucking red tomato but he’s still pulling you to his lap or into the nearest private space or anyplace, he dgf. being wanted?? it takes him out every time.
the pretends-to-play-dumb-but-is-so-into-it — jeonghan, hoshi, mingyu, vernon
he notices immediately… he just wants you to admit it out loud. loves the boldness in your eyes but teases you because your desperation is the cutest thing he’s ever seen. eventually gives in because he wants you just as badly.
the “use your words, baby” problematically turned on — wonwoo, woozi, minghao
you touch his thigh and he stares at you like: “are you trying to tell me something?” not because he doesn’t know — but because he wants to see you confess you want him. and when you do, his whole demeanor shifts… controlled, but absolutely feral inside. he's taking you. being wanted does it to him.
I am here to request an ot13 scenario/headcons (idk the category 😪)
But how do you think SVT will baby their s/o like every member have their own different personality right so they will baby their s/o in different ways but how
So if you can write it I'll be happy and if not then it's okay no pressure for sure 😊
But if you do please I want a Tooth rotting fluff
Bbye take care
How svt babies their s/o || 95z
Genre: established relationship, fluff, slice of life
a/n: tooh rotting fluff. is my favourite to write by far so thank you for your request anon! Got carried away writing Jeonghan (probably coz i miss him too much), so sorry not sorry for that!
w.c.: 0.4k
Seungcheol:
He doesn't even try to baby you. It just comes naturally to him - if you move to sit on the couch, his arm would automatically sneak around your waist to pull you into his lap. If you were struggling to peel a tangerine because of your long nails, before you could even turn to ask him, he would be reaching over to peel it for you, even remembering to take out the white bits you didn't like, before feeding you like second nature.
It's not that he thinks you can't do things for yourself, or that he's making a concious decision to baby you, per say, but that's the way he shows his love towards you, it's as simple as that.
Jeonghan:
Jeonghan wouldn't be Jeonghan without teasing you first. If you had a bad day and just wanted to cuddle up with him, he would jokingly tease, "oh, clingy today, aren't we? I thought you didn't want my kisses yesterday?"
And when you would inevitably whine and start to pull away, trying but failing to hide your disappointment and shame, he would pull you back into his arms almost forcibly in a rare display of strength. "Where are you going? Hm?"
"I thought- You said-"
"Did I say I didn't want your hugs?"
You didn't say it, but you implied it, you wanted to say, but held your tongue.
"When have I ever, in all our years of dating, refused your hugs?"
You couldn't keep quiet at that. You could never lie to him. "Never..."
"That's right, baby. So don't go putting words into my mouth, okay?"
You start to panic now. Was he actually mad? "Sorry, I didn't mean to, I swe-"
At your sudden panic, Jeonghan stiffened under you, but he recovered quickly and began to plant kisses on the base of your neck, your jawline, your temple, anywhere he could reach, all the while keeping his grip on you.
"Shhh, baby, baby, I'm not mad. Look at me. I'm not mad, okay?" His tone softened, like he was talking to an actual baby. "I love your hugs, you know that, right? I just like to tease you sometimes because you don't always give them to me so willingly." You roll your eyes slightly at that, which makes him relax his shoulders.
"So, can I have my cuddles now? I've missed my baby all day, I think I deserve twice the amount..." You can't help but smile at that, burying deeper into his embrace. You let out a sigh as you feel your eyelids slowly get heavier.
Right before you drifted off to sleep, you felt the soft press of a kiss to your temple. "I'm sorry for always teasing you, baby. I love you."
Joshua:
Anyone who says Joshua's tone is gentle has never heard him speak to you. When he talks to you, it's almost as if his voice automatically softens even further (who knew that was possible?). Your favourite was when you would crawl into bed after an exhausting day, and he would pull you in gently so he could thread his fingers into your hair, giving you a head massage as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.
If you tried to talk or apologise, he would immediately shush you, whispering, "it's okay, baby, you don't have to talk." Eventually, you would fall asleep to the sensation of soft kisses pressed against your temple and cheek, as stress and worries drifted away.
If you liked this story, check out my masterlist here!
can you do wanting to ride seungcheol for the first time? when u have always been a pillow princess but one day u just wanna bounce on him!! 🙈
Need more convincing||Seungcheol
Word count:1.2k+
Notes: so glad I got two fics out today! Hope you enjoy! Requests open
You've noticed how Seungcheol always puts your needs first, whether it's in bed or outside of it. His selflessness has become endearing, but tonight you want to show him how much you appreciate him.
As you both lie in bed, you roll over and straddle his waist, looking down at his surprised face. "Let me take care of you for once," you whisper, running your hands down his chest. Seungcheol's eyes widen slightly, his hands instinctively resting on your hips. He's used to being the dominant one, but he can see the determination in your eyes.
"Y/N, you don't have to do that," he says softly, though his grip on your hips tightens slightly. "I like taking care of you."
"I know you do, but I want to. Please let me make you feel good," you insist, leaning down to kiss his neck. "I've been thinking about this for a while." You start grinding against him slowly, feeling him harden beneath you. Seungcheol lets out a low moan as you grind against him, his resolve starting to crumble.
"Fuck... okay," he finally agrees, his voice husky with desire. "Show me what you've got then, baby." You smile triumphantly and begin to remove his clothes, taking your time to savor the moment.
"Good boy," you tease, kissing down his chest as you work. "Just relax and enjoy it." Seungcheol chuckles at your attempt to dominate him, amused by how cute you look trying to take charge.
"You're adorable when you try to be dominant," he teases back, watching you with a smirk. "But you're still my little sub at heart." You roll your eyes playfully and wrap your hand around his now fully hard cock, giving it a few slow strokes.
"We'll see about that," you challenge, leaning down to flick your tongue against the tip. "I can make you beg too." Seungcheol's smirk falters as you lick him, his breath hitching slightly. He tries to maintain his composure, but the feeling of your tongue on him makes him groan.
"You're playing a dangerous game," he warns, though his hips buck up involuntarily. "I might have to take back control if you keep that up." You take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his length while maintaining eye contact. Your hands continue to stroke what doesn't fit.
Seungcheol's hands grip the sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white as he fights the urge to grab your head and fuck your mouth. You pull off with a pop, leaving Seungcheol panting and frustrated. You slowly remove your panties, tossing them aside and positioning yourself above him again.
"Not so tough now, are you?" you taunt, rubbing yourself against his cock teasingly. "I can see how badly you want to touch me." Seungcheol grits his teeth, his muscles tensing as he restrains himself. Despite his growing need, he refuses to break.
"I'm just enjoying the show," he manages to say, though his voice is strained. "You're not going to break me that easily." You lower yourself onto him slowly, inch by inch, feeling every ridge and vein as you take him in. You watch his face closely, noticing the way his jaw clenches and his eyes darken with lust.
"Mmm... you feel so good inside me," you moan, finally fully seated on him. "But I bet you're dying to touch me now." You start moving at a torturously slow pace, rolling your hips in circles. Your hands rest on his chest as you lean back slightly, giving him a full view of your body. Seungcheol's control starts to slip again, his fingers twitching as he fights the urge to grab your hips and speed up the pace.
"Fuck... Y/N... you're killing me," he groans, his eyes locked on where your bodies are joined. You suddenly increase your pace, bouncing up and down on him with renewed vigor. The sound of skin slapping fills the room again, mixed with your moans and his grunts.
Seungcheol's hands shoot up to grip your waist, finally giving in to the pleasure. His fingers dig into your skin as he helps guide your movements. With each movement, you focus on hitting your own sweet spot, chasing your own orgasm while still giving Seungcheol pleasure. Your thighs burn from the effort, but you're determined to make this memorable.
"Yes, just like that... you're so deep," you gasp, your walls clenching around him. "I want to feel you cum inside me." Seungcheol's smile turns wicked as he watches you become lost in your pleasure. He thrusts up to meet your movements, hitting your g-spot perfectly.
"That's it, baby. Let go for me," he encourages, his voice rough with desire. "Cum on my cock while I fill you up." You shake your head defiantly, trying to maintain control even as your body betrays you. The pleasure is overwhelming, but you refuse to give in to his command.
"No... I want you to cum first," you insist through clenched teeth, slowing down your pace again. "I want to make you feel good." Seungcheol groans in frustration and surrender, his body trembling beneath you. The teasing has pushed him to his limit.
"You're such a tease," he growls, his grip tightening on your waist. "I'm gonna cum so hard for you, Y/N." Your head falls back as you feel him getting closer, your own orgasm building rapidly. The sight of you in ecstasy sends him over the edge.
"Fuck, I'm cumming!" he shouts, pulling you down hard as he releases inside you, filling you with his hot cum. You relish the feeling of his warm cum filling you up, your inner walls milking him for every drop. Your body shudders with your own orgasm, your juices mixing with his as you both ride out the intense pleasure.
"Yes, baby... that's it," you moan again, collapsing onto his chest as you both catch your breath. "You're so good at filling me up." Seungcheol wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he kisses your forehead tenderly. His chest rises and falls rapidly against yours.
He murmurs, nuzzling your hair. "You did such a good job taking control, but I'm still the dominant one here." You chuckle softly, still trying to catch your breath. "We'll see about that. I think I proved myself pretty well."
You snuggle closer to him, enjoying the afterglow and the feeling of being filled with his cum. Seungcheol's smirk widens as he hears your response. He shifts beneath you, his cock still buried inside you.
"Maybe I need more convincing," he says teasingly. "Maybe you need to show me who's really in charge again."
Note from author: As I come back from a small retirement, I decided that I want to try to focus on more individual works for the upcoming time, as I feel that I need to do something different.
Hope you guys will enjoy it, please bear with me as I try a few different things as we move forward.
And for the first time ever, I have open request for any works. ♥️
Summary: Headcanons on what is would be like to have Seungcheol as your ex-boyfriend.
Having Seungcheol as your ex-boyfriend means having the fight of your life, the kind where, besides reckless words, a few objects from the room tend to take flight as well.
“Stop fucking screaming,” you say, pressing your trembling hands over your teary eyes.
The kitchen falls into dead silence. You lean against the edge of the wooden table, your legs tangled awkwardly around the uncomfortable chair.
Cheol sits across from you, slumped on the cold marble tiles. His back rests against the too-expensive kitchen cabinets, arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“I’m fucking screaming because you never understand me,” he fires back, his voice cracking midway. He pushes himself off the counter with too much force, the sound of a mug shattering against the floor following him as he storms out of the room.
Having Seungcheol as your ex-boyfriend means that, even though you’re definitely not on speaking terms, he’s still the one carrying every last box into your new apartment after you finally move out.
“Do you want me to put this here or in the bathroom?” he asks, his fingers gripping the white cardboard box stuffed with your hair tools.
“You can just leave it there,” you reply quietly, pointing toward the empty spot on the floor beside you as you sort through a stack of books.
He exhales sharply. “Yeah, bullshit,” he mutters under his breath. “You can’t carry this crap on your own.”
Before you can respond, he’s already walking off toward the bathroom, the box still in his hands.
Having Seungcheol as your ex-boyfriend means you have no private life. He never really ends it, not completely. Somehow, you’re still his.
Did you go on a date? He knows. Of course he does. He found out through a friend of a friend of the guy you went out with.
And best believe that when you finally get home, the first notification lighting up your phone isn’t from the guy who just dropped you off, it’s from Cheol. A paragraph, too long, too emotional, too raw, him pouring his heart out through the haze of one too
many drinks.
Having Seungcheol as your ex-boyfriend means he can be in his car at two in the morning, halfway to a meaningless hookup, trying to drown you out of his mind, but the second your name flashes on his screen, everything stops.
You sound small and scared. “I… I need your help,” you whisper, your voice muffled through the speaker.
He doesn’t even think. “I’m coming right now,” he says, already spinning the wheel in the middle of the road, the screech of tires and angry honks chasing after him as he speeds toward you.
Having Seungcheol as your ex-boyfriend means that you still wear one of his old gym t-shirts to bed, not because you can’t let go, but because it’s soft and familiar, and it still smells faintly like him when you bury your face in the fabric. It makes you feel safe in a way that nothing else has since.
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, he still slides into bed on the left side of the double queen, your side, leaving the other half untouched, just as it’s been for the last four months since you walked out. Your pink pillowcase is still there, a little faded now, your green water bottle still sits on the nightstand, half full, and the bracelet he gave you on your third anniversary rests quietly in the marble bowl, gathering dust but never forgotten.
Having Seungcheol as your ex-boyfriend means being haunted by a single question: how do you ever find someone who will love you that completely again? Someone who looked at you like you hung the stars, and yet, knowing deep down that even though he was the love of your life, he wasn’t ready for the kind of love that lets you breathe. He loved you fiercely, but not freely. He never learned that loving you also meant sharing you with the world.
OT13 reaction to their s/o doing the “walking past my bf to see if he recognizes you” trend
Request: Have you seen those like ”walking past my husband/bf to see if they recognize me” trend like the wife/gf walks past their man in public to see if they recognizes [(idk if that’s the right spelling but who cares?)] them I’m wondering how SEVENTEEN will react if their s/o did that no rush btw take your time, cutie
A/N: one of the few trends that i’ve actually seen XD saw it a few times on yt shorts lol. and oh! this was SO SO SO HARD. i questioned my sanity a few times as i wasn’t able to assign them. i will love to hear you guys takes tho. i felt like idk svt [i don’t] and felt lost and sad. pls help me become their bestie so that i can write better reactions for yall /jk
Contains: fluff
doesn’t even let it play out — seungcheol, joshua, mingyu [am confused]
he clocks you before you even reach/pass him. doesn’t matter if you changed your hair, your clothes, your height, your whole vibe. he knows your walk. he’ll smirk the second you pass and call out something stupidly affectionate/silly like, “you done testing me?” or “you know i’d recognize you anywhere, right?” or “what are you doing again?” absolutely ruins the trend on purpose and looks proud and smug about it and taunts you /jk for even thinking you could sneak past him.
the double take — jeonghan, jun, wonwoo, woozi, minghao
he walks past you. one step, two. then stops. something in his brain goes wait. turns around with that confused, almost offended squinted 🤨 look like the universe just glitched and it’s our fault. once he realizes it’s you, his expression goes normal and baffled immediately. “why are you here?” and you ask why he didn’t recognise you and he’s like, “i did and that’s why i looked back,’ perfect logic if you ask me. you then explain the trend and hes like, “why did that work on me…” lowk pouting but he knows his that’s why i looked back statement is solid. he’ll pull you closer in a hug to recalibrate, and randomly say that you shouldn’t be allowed to look like that in public. starts complimenting how good you look/your makeup looks/outfit and then go out togetherrrrr. oh it turned out to be a whole scenario lol.
falls for it and almost misses you — dokyeom, seungkwan
it’s a lil different than the previous grp as he fully misses it at first. then someone laughs behind that sounds extremely familiar to him or his brain finally catches up and suddenly he’s spinning around like, “WAIT— is that YOU??” absolutely dramatic about it. “you walked RIGHT past me.” makes it everyone’s problem and demands affection as compensation. secretly loves that you did it and will bring it up again later like it’s the funniest thing that’s ever happened. won’t bring up the fact that you tested him and he almost failed and if you bring it up, you get a sulky bf for the next two hours.
total fail, zero awareness — vernon, hoshi, dino
he does not notice at all. you could walk past him twice but he’s in his own world. probably thinking about something random or staring at his phone with headphones on [i at least imagine vernon like this]. when you finally tap him or stand directly in front of him, he blinks like he’s been rebooted. “oh— hey.” he still doesn’t realize what just happened. you explain and laughs, apologizing but still chuckling. insists it’s not you — it’s just that his brain sometimes lags... which is true. will let you redo the trend because he feels bad.
pretends to fail just to mess with you — jeonghan [i feel like he needs this category]
he absolutely notices but he keeps walking just to see how long you’ll wait. then you finally react, he turns back with a smile like, “what? i was waiting for you to say something.” enjoys watching you get flustered way too much and pouting. he loves your pout and will kiss it [drtxtrcrtxrtxret im malfunctioning rn uihiugiswewse. i want him]. zero guilt.
OT13 reaction to their s/o looking even more attractive after giving birth
Request: annyeong annyeong celeste unnie~ how’re ya? i missed you and your account (well because i broke my phone- yep let’s just say i inherited mingyu’s clumsiness (─.─||)
i’m not sure if you’ve done this before [hehe i’m js too lazy to check your masterlist😅😅 but if you’ve done this, you can ignore this]
SEVENTEEN finding their significant other/wife more attractive after giving birth (like everything they do [e.g breastfeeding, folding clothes, pumping milk, etc.] just makes them 👁️👄👁️ 🧍at the corner)
[if this is too much for you, you don’t have to do it but if you decided anw, tyt and i miss you! (again)]
A/N: it’s okay and missed you too!
Contains: fluff, pregnancy
totally mesmerized by domestic goddess that you are — 95z, mingyu
he can’t even handle it. he can’t even handle it youre the mama folding laundry, or you’re the one holding the baby you two made while nursing, or even the tiny sighs you make while pumping… it’s like he’s seeing you in hd for the first time. he literally parts his lips slightly, just… wow. sometimes he’ll lean on the doorway just to watch, pretending he’s not staring but everyone knows he’s caught. sometimes hes not even pretending, he’s just looking at lohl who gave life and became hotter. can’t believe you’re the mother of you guy’s child.
adorably flustered and can’t look away — jun, woozi, dokyeom
he tries to act normal and focus on his own tasks, but nope. every time you smile at the baby, his heart does this drumbeat thingy. he ends up blushing, clearing his throat, mumbling something while internally screaming because yes, you’re so hot and gorgeous in your element!! he can’t believe he bagged you. and you’re even more attractive with your and his baby that you guys created.
obsessed with little details — wonwoo, minghao
he notices every little thing e.g., hair falls while you cradle the baby, the sound of your laughter when the baby coos, youe hum while tidying up. each small thing makes him fall in love all over again. he doesn’t always say it, but he’s mentally recording every moment, replaying it later just to remember how perfect you are and how your’rw his lohl.
hopeless — seungkwan, vernon, dino
telling you how he “can’t compete with a tiny human” or how you’re clearly trying to show off for him, but the way he looks at you while youre laughing? pure adoration, heafg eyes emojis!! sometimes he’ll sneak glances while scrolling on his phone just to admire you. sometimes he whispers a “so beautiful” that only the baby and you hear bc he can’t keep it in. he’s so hopeless when it comes to keeping his feelings for you instead him. he will be caught staring multiple times in an hour and he will be letting you know every other hour about how attractive you are to him.
completely undone — hoshi
he’s just. done for. completely undone watching you handle the baby, the house, yourself… it’s the peak for him. he’ll reach for your hand or your shoulder just to calm himself BC WDYM YOU’RE HIS?!??!??!! while he’s melting into a puddle of love and awe. he probably imagines telling everyone “look at her. she’s mine.” “that’s our baby,” “don’t touch my partner.”
SVT - How The HipHop Unit would be as your Sneaky Link
Note from author: I SAID THAT I AM UNDECISSIVE AND I MIGHT COME BACK SO PLEASE DO NOT THROW ROCKS AT ME FOR IT. I HAD THIS IN THE PIPELINE AND I WORTE EVERYTHING AT 2 AM ON A THURSDAY NIGHT BECAUSE I SAW A MINGYU EDIT AND IT TRIGGERENT ME. I AM SORRY GUYS, I SWEAR I DO NOT WANT TO PLAY WITH YOUR FEELINGS 🫶🏻😭😭😭
Performance Unit / Vocal Unit
Summary: HipHop Unit as your sneaky link but they end up falling in love
Warnings: None, just my delusions 🤟🏻
1️⃣ S.Coups:
Ah, yes. Those muscles were never just for decoration.
You lost count of the number of times Cheol had tossed you across the mattress in the heat of it all, careless, breathless, grinning like a man who had no idea his own strength. There were nights you nearly collided with the wall, your laugh swallowed by his mouth before you could protest. He would always mutter a half-hearted, “Sorry, sorry,” only to drag you back by the waist like gravity itself answered to him.
It always began the same way.
A meaningless night out. One drink too many. Music too loud. His hand resting a second too long on your lower back.
Then the passenger seat of his car, windows fogging, your pulse hammering in your ears as much as in your throat. His lips at your jaw. His voice low and reckless.
“No feelings, Y/n,” Cheol would murmur between heavy breaths, forehead pressed to yours, as if saying it softly made it less sharp. “I really can’t commit to anything.”
And then his mouth would claim yours again before you could answer properly, before you could ask why his hands held you like you were already something more.
“Mhm,” was all you ever managed, your fingers curling into the fabric stretched over his back, nails digging into muscle through that thin, tight gym t-shirt. You told yourself it didn’t matter. That you didn’t care.
That was phase one.
Booty calls at 2 a.m.
Random Ubers.
Blacked-out vans you never remembered ordering.
Sneaking out before sunrise, or sometimes not bothering to leave at all.
“You literally saw me this morning,” you laughed one evening, kicking off your shoes in the hallway of his apartment. The door had barely clicked shut before his eyes were devouring you. “Couldn’t be bothered to put on a shirt?”
He was leaning against the wall, shirtless, toned, hair messy like he’d run his hands through it too many times. He looked unfair. He always did.
“I don’t even know why I bother putting these boxers on,” he muttered, pushing off the wall and catching your wrist. In one motion he pulled you into him, mouth crashing against yours. “You’ll just take them off anyway.”
He was already tugging at the zipper of your jeans before the kiss even broke.
Nothing ever moved slowly in Cheol’s world. He lived in impulses. In heat. In want.
And he would be damned if he admitted how quickly “want” started turning into something dangerously close to “need”.
It showed in the small cracks.
“Why not? It’s Friday. You don’t work tomorrow.” His voice came through the phone, slightly distorted, slightly impatient. You could picture him pacing his living room, hand in his hair. “I can pick you up myself.”
“I can’t,” you sighed, adjusting the strap of your bag while waiting for your train ticket to load. “I told you, I’m going to Busan with friends. The train’s super early.”
Silence.
“What friends?” he asked finally, the words slower now. Tighter. “You never told me.”
“Yes, I did. Like five times.” Your tone sharpened despite yourself.
Another pause. You could almost hear his jaw clench.
“What am I supposed to do without you the whole weekend?”
You laughed, because that’s what you were supposed to do. Keep it light. Keep it casual. “I don’t know. Get a weekend replacement.”
It was a joke.
It was always a joke.
But he didn’t laugh.
And when you came back from Busan, sun-kissed and smiling, he kissed you like he was trying to erase the thought of anyone else even looking at you. Like he needed to remind himself, and maybe you, who you went home to at the end of the night.
It only got worse after that.
The week you were busy with work and couldn’t see him, he pretended not to care. Texts stayed dry. Calls got shorter. But when you finally stayed over again, he didn’t sleep.
You woke up once at 3 a.m. to find him staring at you.
“What?” you mumbled, half-asleep.
“Nothing,” he said quickly, brushing hair out of your face. “Go back to sleep.”
At some point, it became so bad that he invited you over just to cuddle. No rushed hands. No teasing. Just you tucked into his side while some movie played unnoticed on the screen.
He didn’t even try to kiss you.
And that scared you more than anything.
Because Cheol didn’t do slow. He didn’t do soft.
Yet here he was, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm like he was memorizing you.
It crept up on him quietly, the realization that the thought of you with someone else made his stomach twist. That imagining another man’s hands on you felt like losing something that was never officially his.
He told himself to relax.
It was casual.
It was supposed to be nothing.
Until it wasn’t.
Monday afternoon.
He came home earlier than usual, keys tossed into his usual corner, shoes kicked off carelessly. You were still there from the night before, sitting at his kitchen table in one of his hoodies, typing away on your laptop.
Domestic. Comfortable. Too comfortable.
He paused for a second, just watching you.
Then he walked over, leaned down, and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. The kind that lingered.
He sat across from you.
“Did you eat yet, babe?”
The word slipped out so naturally that it didn’t even sound wrong.
But the second it landed in the air, everything froze.
Your fingers stopped moving.
His breath caught.
You looked up slowly.
He looked like he’d just realized he stepped off a cliff.
“Oh shit.”
And for the first time since this whole reckless, breathless, no-strings arrangement began… neither of you laughed.
2️⃣ Wonwoo:
With Wonwoo, comfort always won over long-term investment.
He didn’t believe in building something complicated when something easy was already right there, warm, willing, and wrapped around him.
Which is how you ended up pressed against the foggy bathroom mirror at some stranger’s apartment party, your breath clouding the glass as much as the shower steam still lingering in the air. Your legs were locked around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, and his hands were gripping your hips, no, your ass, like you were the only stable thing in the room.
“Be quiet,” you whispered against his mouth, trying to suppress a laugh and a gasp at the same time. “Someone could hear us.”
“It’s not like you’re making it easy for me to stay quiet,” Wonwoo murmured back, smiling into the kiss before pushing closer, harder, like the risk itself was part of the thrill.
Wonwoo was the safest option for something unsafe.
No strings. No jealousy. No late-night emotional interrogations.
You couldn’t make it tonight?
“Cool. I’ll just hop on the game.”
You weren’t feeling well halfway through?
“That’s fine. I was planning to leave early anyway.”
You needed to blow off steam in the middle of the day?
“Give me twenty minutes.”
Everything was simple. Convenient. Effortless.
The sex was great.
The expectations were zero.
At least, that’s what both of you told yourselves.
Wonwoo never talked much about feelings. He knew that about himself. It wasn’t something he was proud of, just something he accepted. Emotions stayed locked somewhere deep in his chest, only slipping out in the quiet intensity between sheets and tangled limbs. It made it hard to tell when he was upset or just… hungry for you.
But there was one thing Wonwoo did exceptionally well.
He listened.
And when Wonwoo listened, he memorized.
By month four, he had your coffee order down to the exact milk ratio and syrup pump count. He scheduled it to be delivered every Wednesday morning because that was the day you started work extra early and never had time to stop at your usual cafe.
He knew that every odd week, Thursday nights were reserved for sauna and spa time with your sister. He never texted you then.
He knew you loved late-night walks when your brain wouldn’t shut up, so he would always “randomly” crave something from the convenience store at 2 a.m., dragging you outside in mismatched pajamas, messy bed hair, and t-shirts that smelled unmistakably like each other.
He paid attention.
More than someone who “didn’t care” ever should.
“You know, Won,” you muttered one morning, phone wedged between your ear and shoulder as you fumbled through your bag for your house keys. “It’s the first Wednesday in, like, three months that I didn’t get your coffee delivery.”
He let out a muffled laugh on the other end.
“That’s not true.”
You paused mid-rummage. “Huh?”
There was a brief silence. Then.
“You’re being really loud with that key bowl.”
You froze.
“Is it that loud you can hear it through the phone?” you asked, a small smile tugging at your lips.
“So loud,” he replied evenly, “that I can hear it through the door.”
Your brain short-circuited.
You shoved the door open, and there he was.
Standing in your hallway like he belonged there. Holding your coffee in one hand and a small pink-and-white birthday cake in the other.
“Special delivery for the birthday girl,” he said casually, like he hadn’t just rearranged your entire nervous system.
He set the cake down before you could even process it, one hand sliding to the back of your head to pull you into a messy, almost impatient kiss. It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t perfectly timed.
It was real.
And maybe that’s when it started feeling different.
Wonwoo first got suspicious of his own feelings when he stopped racing for the door after spending a few hours in your bed. When leaving started to feel… inconvenient.
When your shower stopped feeling foreign because somehow half of his toiletries had migrated there. His razor. His face wash. That stupid expensive shampoo he swore he couldn’t live without.
When he realized he slept best at 2 a.m. on random Tuesdays, only if you were wrapped around him, your leg thrown over his, your breathing slow and even against his chest.
He noticed how quiet his apartment felt without you.
How loud his thoughts got.
It probably truly clicked for him one night on your couch.
You were mid-makeout, half-laughing, half-distracted because you were still in your corporate uniform. Blazer tossed somewhere on the floor. Pencil skirt hiked up just enough so you could sit comfortably in his lap, your hands tangled in his hair.
It was supposed to be the same as always.
Easy. Heated. Thoughtless.
But his hands didn’t move automatically this time. They lingered at your waist. Tightened.
He pulled back just enough to look at you.
You were flushed, lips swollen, eyes dazed.
And suddenly it didn’t feel casual anymore.
The words slipped out before he could catch them.
“Are we…” he started, voice lower than usual, almost uncertain. “Are we still pretending that this has no feelings attached?”
The room went still.
No party noise.
No late-night convenience store hum.
No easy escape route.
Just you.
And him.
And something that had quietly grown roots while neither of you was looking.
For the first time since this started, it didn’t feel simple.
And maybe that was the problem.
3️⃣ Mingyu:
Honestly? It would’ve been suspicious if it hadn’t happened.
Mingyu was a catch, everyone knew it. Half your friend group had mentioned it at least once, some subtly, some not at all subtle. And it wasn’t just the job. Or the status. Or the fame that followed him like a permanent spotlight.
It was the fact that he was devastatingly attractive and painfully aware of it.
Tall. Broad. Built like he’d been sculpted with too much time and intention. The kind of man who walked into a room and tilted its axis without even trying.
And yet, you didn’t fall for the face first.
You fell for the cockiness.
Not arrogance. Not quite.
That playful, teasing self-assurance that made him smirk like he knew exactly what effect he had on you, and enjoyed watching you pretend it didn’t.
“You’re staring,” Mingyu murmured one night, fingers sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, slowly helping you pull it over your head.
“Then stop giving me something good to stare at,” you shot back, letting him reach behind you for your bra clasp while your hands wandered shamelessly over his bare abs.
He laughed softly at that, low, pleased. He loved it when you pushed back.
The thing about Mingyu was that he was a flirt.
With everyone.
And that was half the problem.
You never quite knew whether he wanted to pin you against the nearest wall or if that was just how he treated every dancer in the crew. The lingering touches. The eye contact that lasted a beat too long. The casual compliments delivered like secrets.
That confusion? That tension?
It’s how you ended up in his bed.
But Mingyu, despite all that teasing bravado, was the most open-hearted man you’d ever met.
Two weeks.
That’s all it took for him to start smiling at your texts. You could hear it in his replies. Feel it in the way he answered faster. The way he’d double-text without shame.
He was the definition of wining and dining you. Not once did you leave his place after some impulsive make-out session without being fed. If you tried to sneak out early, he’d stop you with a soft frown.
“Wait. You didn’t eat properly.”
And suddenly he’d be in the kitchen, shirtless, hair messy, cooking something at 1 a.m. like it was a sacred duty. If you insisted on leaving, he’d pack leftovers into a container and shove it into your hands.
“For later,” he’d say casually.
But there was nothing casual about the way he watched you walk out the door.
The problem?
Mingyu got attached fast.
And it terrified him.
You noticed it first in public.
He stopped giving you attention during practice. Stopped teasing you in front of the others. Stopped letting his hand linger.
But you saw it.
The way his jaw flexed when another dancer placed their hands on your waist a little too long. The way he bit the inside of his cheek so hard, you were surprised he didn’t bleed.
Somehow, every time you joined dance practice, your legs mysteriously stopped working for the next three days.
Coincidence?
You doubted it.
Mingyu was discovering a side of himself he didn’t know existed, possessive, territorial, irrational.
He’d tell you everything was fine.
“No strings attached,” he’d say with that easy smile.
Meanwhile, he’d be at home pacing his living room because he declined your invitation to come over. He told himself he was playing the long game. Creating space. Keeping things cool.
Then he’d throw himself onto his couch and groan into a pillow because he missed you after exactly twelve minutes.
From your perspective?
He was acting normal.
Too normal.
This was Mingyu. He had options. Endless ones. It felt delusional to think there was something forming between you that he couldn’t get somewhere else, easier, simpler.
That was, until he developed an unexpected amount of audacity.
It started small.
Drinking from your water bottle during practice without asking. The dancers noticed. His members noticed. A few raised brows were exchanged.
Then there was the “Oh, you should come over tonight, Wonwoo’s coming for a short video game session.”
Wonwoo was, in fact, there.
For about twenty minutes.
Or the way Mingyu would obnoxiously call out in the company hallway, loud enough for everyone to hear:
“Did you like the pasta I made you last Monday?”
The first time he did that, you nearly tripped over your own feet.
He was testing the waters.
And you didn’t even know how to swim.
It didn’t truly hit you until the dinner.
“Everyone’s going,” he’d said casually. “All the dancers.”
You should’ve known.
The moment you walked into the restaurant and didn’t recognize a single familiar face from your crew, your stomach dropped.
Instead, it was his members. Sitting comfortably. Laughing. A few girls you could only assume were their partners.
It wasn’t a casual group outing.
It was intimate.
Intentional.
You sat down slowly, hyper-aware of the way Mingyu’s thigh pressed against yours under the table.
“Mingyu,” you whispered, leaning closer to him.
“Yeah?” He paused mid-sip, glass hovering in the air, eyes already on you.
“Why am I here?”
You held his gaze this time. No teasing. No deflection.
He didn’t look embarrassed.
He looked amused.
“Just testing something, babygirl,” he murmured, a sly smile tugging at his lips before he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your lips.
Testing something.
And when you glanced around the table again, you realized what it was.
He wasn’t hiding you.
He wasn’t keeping you casual.
He was seeing how you fit.
And the worst part?
You didn’t know if you were more terrified that he might pull away…
Or that you desperately hoped he wouldn’t.
4️⃣ Vernon:
“You are killing me here,” Vernon muttered against your mouth, the words barely formed as your fingers fumbled with the zipper of his jeans.
“You’re not making it easier with all this useless talking,” you shot back between kisses, breath hitching as his hands tightened around your waist.
Vernon was many things, but subtle wasn’t one of them.
You hadn’t even properly kissed yet, hadn’t even gotten past that first electric press of lips, before he laid everything out like a contract he needed you to sign.
“I don’t do relationships,” he said, voice steady but eyes anything but. “I’m not available around the clock. And don’t expect me to text you.”
His gaze searched yours with something wild and restrained at the same time. Hunger, yes, but also caution. Like he was daring you to flinch.
“Vernon?” you said.
“Yeah?”
“Can you just fucking kiss me, for God’s sake?”
That was all the permission he needed.
He crashed into you like he’d been holding back for years instead of seconds.
Two months.
Two months of late nights and early exits. Of reading the room instead of reading texts. Of reacting to his replies to your Instagram stories because that was the closest thing to a direct line you had.
You didn’t even have his number.
Booty calls came in the form of a fire emoji reacting to your mirror selfie. Or a casual “You out?” sent at 1:13 a.m.
And you went. Almost every time.
It wasn’t until month two that you finally graduated from Instagram to iMessage.
No buildup. No small talk.
Just a text from an unknown number:
‘Wanna come?’
That was it.
You stared at it for a full minute before your heart made the decision for you. Bag packed. Keys in hand. Engine running before you could talk yourself out of it.
You never stayed the night during those first four months.
And he never asked you to.
Vernon was efficient. Direct. Almost clinical in the way he kept things contained. He didn’t blur lines. Didn’t let silence feel like mystery, it just was what it was.
You always knew where you stood.
Nowhere permanent.
Until tour.
You knew it was coming. You’d always known he would leave eventually. It was part of the deal, don’t get attached to someone who lives in airports.
You expected a casual goodbye at best. Maybe a “See you when I’m back.” Maybe nothing at all.
You got nothing.
No explanation. No closure. Just distance.
Five days into tour and your phone stayed silent. You saw him post on his close friends story, random backstage clips, blurry hotel room ceilings, a half-finished cup of coffee. Proof he was alive. Proof he was fine.
But not a single message for you.
You told yourself you didn’t care.
You told yourself this was exactly what you signed up for.
Then, at 3:07 a.m., while you were deep in mindless scrolling, your Spotify notification lit up your screen.
Ver0807-09 added you to a shared playlist.
You blinked.
Maybe you were hallucinating from lack of sleep.
You opened it.
There was only one song.
Next to You – Bryson Tiller.
Your stomach dropped.
Your heart skipped so violently it felt like it stumbled over itself. The silence of your room suddenly felt too loud.
Three minutes later, your phone buzzed again.
‘Can I call please?’
Please.
Vernon didn’t say please.
You didn’t even wait for it to ring.
You called him.
The line connected after two rings.
“Hey,” you said softly.
There was a small pause. A breath. Then…
“Hey, stranger.”
His voice was tired. Rough around the edges. Like he hadn’t been sleeping much.
On the other side of the world, in a hotel room that didn’t feel like his, Vernon wasn’t confused about what was happening to him.
He knew exactly when it started.
It started the moment he chose not to say goodbye.
Because uninterested Vernon would’ve tied it up neatly. Would’ve told you it was fun while it lasted. Would’ve left you with something definitive so neither of you had to wonder.
But he didn’t.
He left without closing the door.
Because if there was no goodbye… then nothing ended.
For him, it stopped being “just a hookup” the day he caught himself wanting to text you at 2 p.m. for no reason. The day he saw something funny online and saved it, not for later scrolling, but for you.
It was when he started measuring time zones instead of just cities.
When he didn’t wash his grey hoodie because you wore it once and it still smelled like your perfume. He’d pick it up absentmindedly, press it to his face, and pretend he didn’t know why his chest tightened.
It was when hotel rooms felt emptier than usual.
When crowds didn’t distract him the way they used to.
When “I don’t do relationships” started sounding less like a rule and more like a lie he told himself to stay safe.
Back on the call, neither of you spoke for a moment.
“You added me to a playlist,” you finally said, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Yeah.”
“One song?”
Another pause.
“I couldn’t think of anything else that made sense.”
Your throat felt tight. “You could’ve just texted.”
“I didn’t know how,” he admitted quietly. “I’m not good at this.”
This.
Feelings.
Missing you.
The terrifying realization that somewhere between late-night texts and not staying over, you had become the only person he wanted next to him in a city full of thousands.
“You said you don’t do relationships,” you whispered.
“I know.”
“And you said not to expect texts.”
“I know.”
Silence stretched again, but this time it felt different. Not empty. Just full.
Full of everything he didn’t know how to say.
“I miss you,” he said finally, like it cost him something. Like he was handing you the last piece of his pride.
And suddenly the rules he’d set on that first night felt flimsy.
Because the man who didn’t do relationships was calling you at 3 a.m., from another country, asking please.
And for the first time since this started, you realized.
Maybe the scariest thing about Vernon wasn’t how detached he seemed.
synopsis: a collection of my thoughts on certain seventeen members and their eating habits.
warnings: 18+, implied sexual content (oral — f. receiving)
authors note: you ask and you shall receive. i was immediately asked to go into detail on why i think these specific members are eaters, and so here we are lolol. please bare in mind that this is my opinion! if you don’t agree with it, that’s totally okay! everyone is entitled to their own ideas :)
hyung line | maknae line
choi seungcheol —
cheol has always had the type of energy that makes taking charge seem less like a choice, and more like instinct. he likes being in charge, likes knowing his girl is taken care of, and likes knowing he’s the reason she feels good. that’s literally where the pleasure is for him. he’s not rushing, he’s not distracted, he’s not doing it for validation; he’s literally doing it because he wants to.
one thing about cheol is that he loves to spoil you. this man loves indulgence. he loves giving. he loves knowing you don’t have to lift a finger, don’t have to do anything, don’t even have to think — because he’s already decided he’s handling it. making you feel good isn’t a step on the way to something else for him; it is the thing. the longer it takes, the better.
he knows exactly what to do to make you fall apart, and has total control over your entire body when he’s in between your legs. there’s always this undeniable sense of control, like he’s tuned into you on a level you can’t fake.
it’s never frantic or desperate. it’s unhurried and generous, like he’s got all the time in the world and you’re exactly how he plans to spend it. once he’s in love, everything about you becomes something he wants to overdo — attention, care, affection. he doesn’t just want you satisfied; he wants you spoiled past the point of arguing with him about it.
kwon soonyoung —
soonyoung feels like the exact opposite kind of confidence, but just as dangerous. he’s not calm about it — he’s excited. he likes being needed, likes being wanted, and likes knowing he’s the one making you feel that good. there’s a very real “please let me do this for you” energy to him, like it genuinely makes his brain light up. the pleasure for him is in the reaction. the feedback. the proof that he’s doing it right.
there’s never been a doubt in anyone’s mind that this man has a heavy praise kink. he wants to hear it, wants to see it, wants to feel how much you’re responding to him. and that’s exactly why he likes eating you out so much — it’s immediate. every sound, every movement, every little reaction goes straight to his head. the more you react, the more intense he gets. it’s enthusiastic, focused, and a little feral once he’s fully locked in.
even if he wasn’t completely sure of himself at first, that uncertainty didn’t last long. not after he saw how fast you fell apart just from his mouth — how easily you reacted, how much you gave him without even meaning to. it flipped a switch. once he realized the effect he had on you, he leaned into it hard, absolutely thriving on knowing that only he could make you feel like that.
he might come off more submissive emotionally, but that just means he’s desperate to please. he’s not holding back, not second-guessing himself, and definitely not shy about how much he enjoys it. he learns fast, adjusts faster, and constantly feeds off of the fact that you’re coming undone because of him.
jeon wonwoo —
a lot of people underestimate wonwoo because he can come off as quiet or reserved, but it’s honestly only because he doesn’t feel the need to show off. he’s confident in a very contained way — like he already knows what he’s capable of and doesn’t care what anyone else thinks.
he doesn’t approach intimacy loudly. he never has. everything about him is measured, deliberate, and chosen. he’s the type who doesn’t rush towards attention. he doesn’t need to dominate a room to feel secure. that carries over into how he loves, too — especially here.
for him, eating you out feels less like a sexual performance and more like a grounding habit. something steady. something he returns to. it’s where his focus sharpens and everything else falls away. after a long day, when his brain is tired and his body feels heavy, he finds the most relief in focusing on you and making you feel good.
it’s never about dominance or power. it’s about presence. the way he stays attentive, moves easily between leading and following, and keeps his focus on you and your needs the entire time.
OT13 reaction to sleeping with their hand on your boobs
Request: Hiiii, how are you doing, I hope everything is going great 😊 If requests are open, and you feel comfortable, could you do please SVT, which type of guys they are when holding their gfs boobs while sleeping 🙂 I was wondering about this, because I read somewhere that guys like to sleep holding their gfs boobs, because it’s very comforting for them and some of them can’t sleep without doing it 🌚 So the first thing I thought was SVT members 🥲
if you are not comfortable or busy, thank you anyway, I freaking love your works and god bless your writing page🫶🏻🙏🏻
A/N: God bless your curious mind for bringing this up 🥹 I actually thought about this but didn't have the free time to write it because I need complete requests first, but since it's a request itself, I have to write it lmao
Already there. Natural instinct. No thoughts just boobs — Seungcheol, Joshua, Hoshi, Mingyu, Dino
he doesn't even think about it. it’s just where his hand goes 🤷🏻♀️ you crawl into bed? he wraps around you and boom. automatic boob pillow. if you try to move it, he whines in his sleep and puts it back. it’s not even necessarily sexual [unless he's feeling flirty 👀], it's just his version of a comfort object. like. the hand goes there. that’s its home. no he will not explain. yes he sleeps better like this. yes he will absolutely nuzzle in deeper if you giggle about it. you’ve become his favorite mattress accessory and he's absolutely not sorry about it.
Acts shy about it but will NOT stop — Woozi, Dokyeom
at first he was all bashful, like, “oh, sorry, was i—?” whenever you caught him doing it. until it happened like… six nights in a row. until you both realized: this was just how he sleeps now. he’ll try to act cool about it, and especially when you tease him, but he’s lowkey addicted to your boobs. the way they fit into his... how do i explain it? his hold? yeah, his hold. anyway. his hold + that warmth = immediate REM cycle. even if you shift positions, he subconsciously reaches back. he has fully given in.
Doesn’t realize he does it, but you’ve been keeping score — Jeonghan, Jun, Vernon
he’s a mystery. a sleep shapeshifter. you swear he doesn’t start the night like that, but at some point he always ends up copping a feel. dead asleep. blank expression. hand respectfully squished. you’ve tested it. moved around. even laid facing the other way. didn’t matter. like a heat-seeking missile, his hand finds its way back to your chest. when you bring it up, he raises a brow like “...what are you talking about?” sir. you have been boob-holding for the past 12 nights. you’re caught.
Tries to pretend he’s normal but absolutely is not — Wonwoo, Minghao, Seungkwan
he’ll lie to your face and say it’s not a habit while simultaneously being the biggest culprit. he’s subtle about it. might pretend he’s just hugging you from behind. but that hand... oh, that hand is very much where it wants to be. and if you joke about it, he’s either like, don’t expose me 😩 or, you’re imagining things while actively cupping you. will 100% keep sleeping peacefully like nothing’s happening. it’s comforting, and now he can’t sleep any other way.
Note from author: Oh, woowww, another angsty/argument-related post??? 👀👀👀 Who would have thought???
On a more serious note, thank you babes for keeping up with me, I know that for the past few months I have been extremly bad at posting, but I am trying to get back to it, because I love it. Hope you will enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it.♥️♥️
Summary: Hyung Line having an argument with you before the concert. And yes, it is always their fault because the girlies are always right 🫰🏻
Warnings: None, just my delusions 🤟🏻
1️⃣ S.Coups:
You and Cheol fought like every couple, but you two always managed to add a little extra heat. The slammed calls, the texts sharper than they needed to be, tiny sparks that sometimes lit up into something bigger when nerves were high.
Now he was backstage, minutes from opening night. The hum of the crowd pressed against the walls like a heartbeat. He’d done this a hundred times, but tonight the argument sat heavily on his shoulders. He’d called you ten times in the last two hours. No answer. Location off. His thoughts ran in tight circles.
A tech clipped the last cable into his in-ear pack. Out of the corner of his eye, movement. He turned, and there you were, leaning against a metal pillar, arms crossed, watching him.
“Babe…” It came out small, like he’d set it carefully on the floor.
You pushed off the pillar with a sigh that carried the whole fight and set it down between you. “Hey, petty boy.”
He almost smiled. Almost. The staff tried to gather his cables as he stepped toward you, dragging two of them like confused ducklings.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, voice low, eyes searching your face like it might vanish.
“I know,” you said softly, hand lifting to touch his cheek before you caught yourself. “You have to go.”
“I didn’t mean what I said,” he blurted. “Not like that. I was…tired. And scared. And then you hung up and…”
“You hung up first,” you said, but there was no venom in it. Just the fact of it.
His mouth twisted. “Right. I did. I panicked. I hate when you’re not here.”
“I turned my location off because I needed a minute,” you said. “Not because I was disappearing.”
He nodded too fast. “I know. I know now. I just…God, I spiralled. I kept thinking you were out there upset, and I put you there and…”
A stagehand waved from the wings, two minutes.
You put your palm flat on his chest. Felt his heart kick. “Cheol.”
He stilled.
“We’re not perfect,” you said. “But I’m here. I came.”
He swallowed. “Can we talk after? Really talk? Not…across a battlefield.”
“Yes,” you said. “After. No phones. No dramatic exits.”
A breath of a laugh broke out of him, surprised and grateful. “Deal.”
Another wave, one minute.
He leaned in, forehead touching yours. “I’m sorry,” he said again, quieter, like the apology belonged right between you and nowhere else.
“I know,” you repeated, and this time you let your hand find his jaw, thumb warm against the edge of his in-ear wire. “I’m mad, and I love you. Both can be true.”
His eyes softened. “I love you. I never doubt that part. I just…sometimes I don’t know how to hold it without squeezing too hard.”
“Then don’t squeeze,” you said. “Just hold.”
He let out a breath. The noise of the crowd swelled, a wave rolling toward shore.
“Go,” you said, giving his chest a gentle push. “Go do what you do. I’ll be right here when you come off.”
2️⃣ Jeonghan:
Ah, yes, petty fights if you’ve ever seen one. Not the door-slamming, plate-shattering kind with this one. Worse. The kind where he goes quiet. He doesn’t raise his voice, he just withdraws, face smooth as glass, and starves you of words until your own start curdling in your throat. And the worst part? He’s not blameless. He knows it. You know it. You’d spent the afternoon chasing him from room to room like a shadow begging its owner to turn around. Five hours ago, you finally gave up, snatched your keys, and walked out before you said something you couldn’t unsay.
Now, backstage, Jeonghan realizes he may have engineered his own undoing.
He’s a man of ritual and superstition. Every show, the same three things, exactly three sips of warm water; shoulder rolls, two forward, four back, and a text from you that reads, without fail, “I love you, you are the best.” Four years of concerts, and not one has started without that message.
Tonight, the cup is there. The shoulders roll. But his phone stays silent.
“Jeonghan, I’m telling you again,” his manager says, palm flat to his chest, stopping him mid-step. “You can’t go off now. You’re on in five.”
“Please,” Jeonghan says, trying to keep his voice even and failing. “I know she’s here. Just two minutes. I need to find her.”
“She’s not,” the manager replies, already glancing at the clock. “I checked the guest list twice. She didn’t check in. Shoes on. Now.”
Jeonghan exhales, the sound short and sharp. He swallows his third sip of water like it’s a dare, shoves his feet into his shoes, and snatches a mic from a staff member with a muttered “Thanks.”
On the lift, lights humming underneath, the arena thundering above like weather, he stares at the metal grate as if it might blink first.
“Stage face.” Joshua says lightly, squeezing the space between Jeonghan’s shoulder blades. “Whatever it is, park it for three hours.”
“I am really not in the mood for motivational speeches, man…,” Jeonghan mutters, not looking up.
The lift rises. The roar swells. The first note hits, and habit takes the wheel. Jeonghan smiles on cue, sings on pitch, moves cleanly through the choreography, but he’s moving through fog. The crowd is a blur of lightsticks and glittered signs. He hits mark after mark like the floor is telling him where to go.
Three songs in, “Rock with You” crackles in his ear, and the left catwalk calls him like it always does. He goes, feet finding the rhythm his heart can’t. He makes himself look, really look, into the crowd, scanning faces and posters and hands.
And there you are.
You’re pressed against the barrier with your best friend clinging to your elbow, hair a little messy like you ran here, eyes bright and stubborn. You’re jumping to be seen, a poster rattling in your grip. The letters are crooked, the marker is too light in places as if the ink gave up halfway through, and the message is ridiculous and perfect: “I love you, you are the best.”
His mouth opens on a silent laugh. His shoulders, rigid for hours, loosen like a knot finally working free. He stops dead on the catwalk, and for a split second, the world funnels down to you and a sign that was clearly made ten minutes ago on a piece of poster board stolen from someone’s convenience store.
Your eyes catch his, and the annoyance you’ve been feeding all evening dies without ceremony. He doesn’t need the text. He’s reading it twelve feet away.
He mouths, slow enough for you to catch it, ‘I love you more.’
3️⃣ Joshua:
Joshua wasn’t the kind of guy who yelled. Even when you were wrong, and he knew you knew it, he didn’t raise his voice. He just… left. Not with his feet. With his eyes. The room would still hold his body, but he’d be gone, somewhere colder, somewhere you couldn’t reach. That was the worst part of fighting with Joshua, the way his quiet could make you feel like the smallest person on the planet. And he knew it.
Two days since the stupid argument, two days of clipped texts and swallowed words, and the scene kept looping in his head as he sat under the bright bulbs of the makeup mirror. The artist dabbed eyeshadow along his lids, he barely blinked.
“With or without?” someone asked behind him.
“Huh?” Joshua snapped back to the room, blinking at his reflection.
“With or without the glasses,” Hoshi said louder, pointing at the sunglasses perched on Joshua’s head like a second thought.
“It’s pitch black outside,” Joshua muttered, twisting in his chair. “Why on earth would I wear sunglasses?”
“Goddamn, you still got your panties in a bunch?” Cheol drawled from the next chair, eyes never leaving his own mirror. He adjusted his in-ear monitors like they’d personally offended him.
“I’m fine,” Joshua said, too quickly.
“Mhm.” Cheol went back to smoothing a flyaway strand, the unimpressed kind of “mhm” that meant he didn’t believe a word.
The room kept moving without Joshua. Stylists darted past with lint rollers and garment bags, a stagehand counted down minutes in a steady, rising voice. Someone laughed too loud by the door. He tried to care about the set list, the timing, the blocking, but his mind kept snagging on the last thing he’d said to you, and the way your face had fallen right before you shut the door.
Forty minutes later, the real countdown started echoing through the hallways. Joshua stood, suddenly all fingers and panic. His shirt, for reasons known only to the shirt, refused to cooperate.
“I swear to God, if this…” He yanked the hem, careful and not careful all at once. The collar snagged his mic wire. “…stupid shirt…”
He wrestled it over his head and felt his carefully shellacked hairstyle protest. A warm hand landed lightly on his bicep.
“Stop,” you said.
He froze. When he lowered the shirt, you were right there. No mascara tracks, no storm left in your eyes, just a soft focus he hadn’t earned yet. You didn’t meet his gaze. You adjusted the mic pack, unfastened the top button with steady fingers, then slid the shirt over his shoulders so it didn’t disturb a single gelled strand.
“There,” you murmured, smoothing the fabric over his chest with a tight-lipped smile “, See you after the show.”
You turned on your heel, already leaving, already taking air with you. Two days of radio silence clawed at Joshua’s throat. He moved before his brain could talk him out of it, slipping into step beside you as staff scrambled around, calling cues and carrying headsets like life preservers.
“I’m sorry,” he said, breath catching as someone clipped his transmitter in place.
You didn’t slow. “I’m sorry too.”
“I was dumb.” Hands swept over him, powder here, tape there, and still he kept his eyes on you. “I hate it when I get like that. I know I… leave.”
“You don’t leave,” you said, finally glancing at him. “You vanish while standing right in front of me. It hurts.”
“I know.” He swallowed.
A stage manager hustled by, counting down, “Three minutes! Three!”, and then someone tugged at Joshua’s waistband to hide a wire. He caught your hand before it fell back to your side and held it, quick and secret.
He exhaled, the closest thing to relief he’d felt in forty-eight hours. “I love you,” he whispered, the words almost lost under the thud of bass through the floor.
“I love you too.” You gave him a tiny, conspiratorial wink, as if it were a shared joke that love could be this loud and this delicate at once.
“Final checks!” someone called. A makeup artist floated in with a sponge, reaching for his mouth.
“Wait,” Joshua said, catching the artist’s wrist with a gentle apology in his eyes. He turned back to you, cupped your face like he could anchor himself to something softer than adrenaline, and kissed you. Not a timid hallway peck, something sure and grounding.
He let you go, just far enough. He nodded to the makeup artist. “Okay. Now I’m ready.”
4️⃣ Jun:
“I need to take your phone, Jun.”
His manager’s hand was already outstretched, steady and impatient, waiting for him to drop it before stepping onto the stage.
Jun stared at the screen a second longer than he should have. Letting go felt harder than it usually did, harder than it ever had, especially when he still hadn’t heard from you. In a few seconds, he’d be logged off from the world for over four hours, cut off completely, and the silence scared him more than the crowd ever could.
You were usually backstage by now. A quick kiss for luck, a quiet smile just for him, a few painfully unfunny jokes shared with the others. Familiar things. Comforting things.
But tonight, you weren’t there. And worse, he didn’t even know when he’d see you next, not with the way the coming weeks were packed.
He knew how this looked. He knew he messed up.
It wasn’t intentional, not really. He’d landed hours earlier than planned and thought, stupidly, that he could surprise you. One good moment carved out of a chaotic schedule. But idol life didn’t leave room for nice plans. What was supposed to be an early return to Seoul for a last-minute podcast recording turned into you discovering, through the internet, of all things, that your boyfriend had lied about when he was coming home.
That was the part that hurt the most. Not the lie itself, but the way you found out.
And Jun knew better than anyone how much you hated that.
“I am so screwed,” he muttered as the stage elevator doors slid shut behind them.
“Could’ve been worse,” Minghao replied calmly.
Jun let out a helpless breath and leaned back against the metal rail. “She’s not even gonna talk to me after this,” he said. “It’s so fucking stupid.” His eyes fell shut like that might make it disappear.
“All you’re doing right now is making it worse,” Minghao said, eyes still on the script in his hands. “Your mood isn’t gonna magically fix itself like this. And you’ve still got a whole concert to get through.”
“I know, but it feels like I made her think I don’t care,” Jun said quietly, fingers fidgeting with the mic. “Do you know how much it hurt when I called her after filming and it went straight to voicemail?” His voice wavered despite himself. “Or when I got here and the driver told me she refused the pickup and told them to leave without her?”
For the first time, Minghao glanced up at him. “Apologize later,” he said simply. “Focus now.”
The elevator jolted, began its ascent, and suddenly the arena exploded, screams, light, sound crashing over him all at once. The world demanded everything from him, whether he was ready or not.
Time stretched painfully thin. Each song dragged, each transition felt heavier than the last. It was like the universe knew exactly what he was waiting for and decided to be cruel about it.
When the concert finally ended, Jun had never moved faster in his life.
He grabbed his phone the second he was allowed to, heart pounding as he unlocked it. Part of him expected the notification bar to be empty, just like when he’d left it hours ago. No messages. No calls. Nothing.
The other part of him, stupidly hopeful, prayed for anything.
His breath caught when he saw it.
A video.
From you.
It was a short clip of him onstage earlier, lights blazing behind him, a small pink heart added in the corner. His chest tightened so hard it almost hurt. He didn’t think, he just called you immediately.
It rang twice.
“Hello?” Your voice cut through the backstage noise, soft and familiar, and it nearly broke him.
“I’m so sorry,” Jun rushed out. “Y/n, I swear I’m the stupidest person on the planet, I’m so sorry, I can’t even…”
“Hey. Hey,” you interrupted gently, firm in that way you always were. “Breathe. You’re tripping over your own words.”
“I’m sorry, babe,” he said, resting his forehead against the cold, damp wall. “I thought I could surprise you, pick you up after filming. Everything ran over schedule, and I couldn’t get to you. I should’ve told you.”
“It was stupid,” you said quietly.
The silence that followed pressed down on him, heavy and unmistakable.
“I know,” he whispered, fingers tightening around his phone. “I’m really sorry. I wish I’d told you. Thank you for coming. I really wanted to see you.”
“I left early,” you said. He could hear the TV murmuring in the background. “Didn’t want to get stuck in traffic.”
“I really thought you wouldn’t,” he admitted.
There was a pause, then your voice softened.
“Come home, Jun.”
The tension in his chest finally loosened, warmth flooding in like relief he hadn’t dared to expect.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he said with a deep, shaky sigh.
5️⃣ Hoshi:
“If it’s so freaking stupid, then why did you even come?”
Hoshi’s voice slices through the waiting room, sharp enough to make the air stand still.
You’re sitting on one of those stiff wooden chairs, laptop open on your knees, the click-clack of backstage chaos muted now that the room has gone quiet. Hoshi stands by the door, already half in his sound-check outfit, hand gripping the handle like he’s holding himself back from saying more.
“Babe…” you whisper, pushing yourself up from the chair.
“No. Don’t ‘babe’ me.” His jaw tightens as he pulls the thin door halfway open. “I have a concert to finish. This is my job, Y/N.”
“I know,” you say, softer than intended, but he’s already put three long strides and a wall between you.
“No, you clearly don’t.” He lets out a dry laugh that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be doing my head in about how annoying it is that you have to sit in ‘stupid random rooms’ while I’m freezing my ass off on stage.”
He doesn’t wait for your reply. He slips out, letting the door close behind him, taking every bit of warmth with him.
You blink, and suddenly the argument feels like it had exploded out of nowhere. Twenty minutes ago you were just venting, complaining about how your degree is eating every spare second and how you’re stuck studying anywhere you can. You weren’t attacking him. You were tired and overwhelmed, and he was the one person you thought you could unload on.
But you hadn’t read the room.
You knew he was stressed today, that’s why you’d come early, laptop and textbooks in tow. What you didn’t account for was how sensitive Soonyoung becomes when he’s anxious about a performance. One stray spark, and everything went up in flames.
Three hours pass before you admit he isn’t coming back. Not between rehearsals. Not between sets. Not even just to peek in. So you gather your things and slip out quietly to find a better spot before the concert starts.
Meanwhile, thirty minutes later, Hoshi finally comes back to his senses. He returns expecting you there, hunched over your laptop, hair falling in your face, looking up at him with that soft smile you always give him, even when you’re exhausted.
Instead, he finds an empty room.
An empty chair.
An empty space where you should be.
His stomach drops straight to the floor.
He realizes, fully and painfully, that he snapped at you for nothing. The epiphany had already hit halfway through sound check, but now the guilt settles in like ice. And if performing a four-hour show is hard while stressed, try doing it with a knot of shame sitting permanently in your throat.
Hoshi scans the crowd at least fifteen times during the concert. He double-checks the VIP box so often the cameras probably think he’s doing a bit. Each time he doesn’t find even the tiniest glimpse of you, another crack forms in his chest.
By the time the final encore ends and he steps off the backstage elevator, he’s running on autopilot. Sweat clings to him, clothes sticking to chilled skin. His heart is hammering, not from the choreography, but from dread.
The moment he pushes through the rolling door into the main hallway, his thoughts are racing at a hundred kilometers per hour, until his eyes land on you.
You’re standing there with his mother, laughing over something on your phone, face lit up with the kind of smile he’d convinced himself he’d ruined for the night.
“Thank God,” he breathes, barely audible, before he breaks into a full jog.
You don’t even have time to look up. Suddenly, you’re wrapped in a tight, sweaty embrace, pulled flush against him as he buries his face on top of your head.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, voice cracking, kissing your hair again and again, quick, frantic, apologetic. “I was so rude. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Babe, we’re okay,” you mumble into his chest, voice muffled by his damp shirt.
“Where were you?” he asks, loosening the hug just enough to see you but not enough to actually let go.
“I was in the box with your parents.” You cup his freezing cheeks with your warm hands. “God, Soonyoung, you’re ice cold.”
“You almost gave me a heart attack,” he says dramatically, lower lip jutting out. “I thought I’d died of a broken heart.”
“Actually,” you start, reaching for your phone, “my resident doctor said that’s…”
“Just shut up, idiot,” he laughs, lifting your chin with one cold hand and kissing you before you can finish.
6️⃣ Wonwoo:
You and Wonwoo had always fought the same way, your temper flaring fast and loud, his patience trying to match your pace, always half a step behind. It usually ended with you going quiet, a self-imposed silence you stretched for as long as you could manage. You knew it was childish. You knew it bordered on unfair. Sometimes it even left you wondering if you asked too much of his patience, if taking up that much emotional space made you difficult to love.
But this time, this time, it really was his fault. And you were allowed to be mad.
It was 7 p.m., halfway through their Seoul concert, and you were seated in the VIP box with family members and a few partners of the other members. The bass thumped through the stadium, the cheers rising and falling like waves, but you barely registered any of it. You stayed rooted to your chair, jaw tight, tongue pressing firmly into the inside of your cheek as if holding everything back physically might keep you from unravelling emotionally.
Two hours earlier, Wonwoo had said it, that he found it a bit pathetic that you still got so nervous. After all these years together, after countless shared meals and backstage hellos with the other girlfriends, you still hovered near him, still needed his presence as an anchor. You knew his words hadn’t come from malice. His intentions were clumsy, not cruel. But stress turned him blunt to the point of carelessness, and you had taken the full impact of that, again.
Across the stadium, Wonwoo stood under blinding lights, smiling wide as he moved in sync with the rest of the members. To anyone watching, he looked carefree, electric, fully in his element. But even as he laughed into the mic, he knew what waited for him once the music stopped. An apology. One he owed you badly.
“Why are you looking like that?” Cheol murmured through a smile, leaning in close enough that the audience wouldn’t notice.
“Not the moment,” Wonwoo muttered back, careful with his lips. He was painfully aware of the hundreds, maybe thousands, of eyes on them.
“Then stop acting like something’s wrong,” Cheol replied, patting his back before dancing off to the other side of the stage like nothing had happened.
By the time they reached their final goodbye, you weren’t in the VIP box anymore. You were backstage now, standing beside his dad and brother, bouquet in hand as tradition dictated. Your chest felt tight, like anticipation and frustration were tangled together somewhere beneath your ribs.
Less than five minutes later, he appeared.
Sweat clung to him, his hair falling messily onto his forehead, glasses slightly fogged from the sudden shift in temperature. He looked exactly like he always did after a show, exhausted, glowing, adrenaline still humming under his skin.
You expected the routine. A hug for his dad. Mingyu bursting in with a loud joke. A long, solid embrace with his brother. And then you, a quick kiss, familiar and grounding.
But he changed direction at the last second.
Before you could even process it, his arms were around your torso, still moving forward, making you stumble back a step or two with him. He looked down at you, eyes soft, almost apologetic, the kind of look you knew too well.
“I was rude,” he said quietly.
You scoffed under your breath. “Oh. So now you’re self-aware?”
“Stress got the best of me,” he replied, calm, steady. No defensiveness this time.
“Not an excuse,” you shot back, arms still hanging stiffly at your sides.
“I know.” His voice softened further. “But you know I love having you around. I call you when I’m at the grocery store, even when you’re literally waiting for me in bed.” He laughed shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Y/N. That was really dumb of me to say.”
He reached up, gently brushing your bangs behind your ear, his touch tentative, as if he was giving you room to pull away.
“I’ll have to think about it,” you said, even as you felt the walls you’d built starting to crumble, piece by piece.
“Come on,” he murmured, dipping his head slightly until his nose brushed yours. “I missed you.”
“That’s not fair,” you whispered, a lazy smile betraying you as his breath warmed your lips. “You’re not playing fair.”
“Mmm,” was all he answered before his lips finally met yours, slow, apologetic, and familiar. You tasted salt from his sweat, warmth from his skin, and the last traces of the pettiness that had filled the space between you just hours ago, dissolving completely.
7️⃣ Woozi:
Two stubborn people with matching egos and a tendency to misfire in communication are a recipe for unnecessary tension. Anyone who’s seen you and Woozi argue would say the same: it starts small, escalates fast, and somehow lasts way longer than it ever needed to.
Woozi has always been the type who can feel an argument brewing before you even open your mouth, someone who already knows the solution before the problem fully forms. He loves you with a kind of quiet certainty that threads through every part of his life.
But the past two weeks had stretched both of you thin. Him on tour across three time zones, you flying out for a conference, barely catching each other awake. Silence settled where the comfort used to be. And then that Dispatch article, him at dinner with a female co-star, which he had mentioned in passing, but you hadn’t truly heard because you were both exhausted. You blocked him in a moment of pride and irritation, and by the time he tried reaching out, he didn’t have the energy to push harder. Not then. Not while performing, traveling, barely sleeping.
Now it was the night of their encore show in Seoul. He knew you’d flown home last night, he saw the ring camera notification light up, and it gnawed at him that you still hadn’t unblocked him. He’d tried twice today to stop by your apartment, but both times, you weren’t home. The not knowing was eating him alive.
“If it makes you feel better…” Dino says around a mouthful of egg sandwich, “my girlfriend tried calling her too. Went straight to voicemail.”
“Yeah, she turned her phone off,” Woozi mutters, exhaling hard as he scrolls through Instagram without really seeing anything.
“I think this is the longest I’ve seen you two go without talking,” Joshua adds, sliding behind him and squeezing his shoulders in sympathy.
“Petty ass fight,” Woozi mumbles, eyes glued to his screen as if he stared long enough, you’d appear.
“Petty ass fight?”
Your voice cuts clean through the room. The whole group freezes, and Jihoon’s head snaps around so fast it looks painful.
There you stand, cold from the outside, warmer from anger, looking directly at him. And he can’t decide if he wants to run to you or brace for an explosion.
“That’s what you tell them?” you continue, stepping inside the threshold of the dressing room. “That we’re fighting because of some petty argument? Not because you went to dinner with another woman while I was out of town?”
Silence folds over the room like a blanket no one asked for.
Jihoon swallows. Hard.
“Let’s not do this here,” he says quietly, quiet but firm, and heads toward the hallway. You follow, footsteps sharp against the concrete.
The makeshift corridor beneath the stage is freezing, and every breath you take comes out visible. Jihoon stands a few feet away, hands balled in his pockets, eyes never leaving you.
“I missed you,” he says softly.
“Why did you stop by my place?” Your voice wavers, but your stare doesn’t. “My neighbours saw you there. Twice.”
“You’re my girlfriend, for fuck’s sake, Y/N.” He lets out a humourless laugh. “You blocked me like we’re in high school.”
“You went out to dinner with another woman, and I had to learn about it through Dispatch.” You step closer, jabbing a finger into his chest once, sharp, accusing. “That makes me feel like you’re treating us like some high school fling.”
Jihoon inhales, eyes flicking down for a moment. He knows this is the worst possible moment, right before a concert, right after weeks apart. He also knows he loves you more than he loves being right.
So he does the one thing guaranteed to break the spiral.
“You’re embarrassing yourself right now,” he murmurs, not cruel, just honest, and he gently removes his hands from his pockets, reaching for your wrists. One by one, he lifts your hands and places them around his waist, holding them there. Holding you there.
The closeness steals the fight right out of the air. His eyes roam your face like he’s relearning it, and suddenly you feel both exposed and wrapped up in something warm.
“You know I’m in love with you,” he says, forehead dipping toward yours, voice barely more than breath. “So don’t second-guess it again.”
He presses a soft kiss onto your cold lips, lingering.
