bee-taylorsversion

[bee-taylorsversion]

Joshua (SVT) | Endurance smut | 0.9k | gn!reader

“Is that really all you can take?” Joshua smirks at you. Like he’s not barely holding himself up. His own skin is sweaty and his body on fire and he can’t hide it. Yet he acts like he’s not violently shivering when you drag your nails down his spine.

“Shut up,” you groan. You don’t know what to do with your hands, half holding him still, half urging him to move again.

“No shame in asking to stop,” he says in a voice that clearly states otherwise. Yet another contradiction: his hands stroke your thighs so gently you almost consider asking for a break just to get some of his loving cuddles.

You love when he gets like this. Always checking up on you, never too proud to tend to your needs first when you need him. His hands are warm. His chest would be warmer if he pulled you into a hug. The kind of heat you crave despite feeling almost feverish.

“Love?” his voice softens when he brings your attention back to him. One of his hands cups your face.

“I’m fine,” you reassure him, leaning into his palm. 

“‘Fine’ isn’t enthusiastic enough for me,” he teases. When you frown at him with a slight pout on your lips, he just chuckles. Before you can realize what he’s doing, he throws your legs over his shoulders.

His hips press deeper into your heat and you whine, head falling back into the pillows. His composure falters. You feel some of his cum leak out of you. 

“Shua,” you grumble, “It’s cold and disgusting.”

He has the nerve to laugh and fold you in half just to kiss your nose and get some of the wet wipes from the night table. You almost bite a hole into your lip trying to hold in the moan that’s threatening to rip from your throat as he sheats himself inside you fully. At least he cleans off all the mess he made despite how pointless it is. He’s about to make more anyway.

“You know,” he starts and you immediately don’t like his tone, “If you’re too tired we can just cuddle like this. We’d lie down and you’d be warming my cock for me.”

His thrusts are slow, shallow. Driving you crazy while also comforting you. He kisses the side of your ankle. Only needing one hand to hold you in the precise position he wants, he finds your hand with the other one. Slowly grinding his cock into you. Close, always close, always loving. His eyes meet yours and you see it. The adoration, despite all his teasing. 

“After this one?” you manage to breathe out, thumb stroking the side of his hand.

He nods and squeezes your hand, presses another kiss to your skin. He spreads his legs more to get a better angle. You grip his hand like it’s your lifeline.

“Can’t wait to hold you close when you take me,” he groans. The sudden harsh thrust sends sparks down your spine and makes them explode like fireworks behind your closed eyelids. His fingers squeeze yours, grounding you in the moment while he focuses on your pleasure.

“Want me to wrap my arms around you when you make love to me?” you tease breathlessly, “My arms and my legs?”

His hips stutter, his breathing too. 

“Baby stop,” he whimpers, “Or we’ll be up all night.”

You turn to look at the clock and scoff. It’s too late to worry about that. You could probably track how many hours you’ve spent intertwined like this by recollecting all the times he made you cum, how, where, in which position. But every brush of his dick against that delicious spot inside you makes your mind blank out. And you’re too tired to think about anything but how much you desire him.

“Want me to-” you get interrupted by a moan. It takes you a moment to recollect what you were saying. “Want me to whisper in your ear? Tell you how much I love you, how handsome you are, how good you feel.”

“Yeah - yeah, need that,” his voice breaks as he covers your body with his again, forcing you into the uncomfortable folded position to kiss you as much as he can during the few seconds he’s willing to be selfish for. His thrusts get quicker, harder. He clings to your hand like he needs it to believe you’re real. “Love you. So much. So perfect for me.”

“Cum, baby,” you plead. You open your eyes with much effort, feel the moisture in them as your gazes meet. “Need you close.”

It doesn’t take much for him to fulfill your wish. You feel him twitch and tremble. More of his release leaks out.

With great reluctance he lets go of your hand to massage your hips while he readjusts your legs to rest around his waist so that he can collapse on your chest.

You feel yourself clenching around him, still seeking more pleasure, begging him to keep going. He’s still shaking, hands fisted in the sheets.

You run your fingers through his hair and tug gently. He follows your hand until he’s lying where your lips can reach his forehead. His smile is unstable but grateful.

“No shame in asking to stop,” you remind him quietly. He whines, nuzzling closer to your skin.

“No way,” he tries to sound cocky but it’s just too soft and breathy, “Your body is still begging for me. I feel it.”

His lips attach to your neck. He whimpers as your body reacts and clenches around him. You know he won’t be finished with you until he makes sure you can’t give him a single climax more.

[bee-taylorsversion]

♡ title: all over the cabin ♡ pairing: joshua x afab!reader ♡ word count: 4.5k ♡ genre: smut, fluff, best friends to lovers ♡ warnings: sex in multiple areas (floor, bathroom, kitchen), dom!joshua, praise, dirty talk, possession, unprotected sex multiple times, edging, multiple orgasms, rough handling ♡ synopsis: what happens when two best friends get ditched last minute on a cabin trip in the middle of nowhere? ♡ a/n: joshua has been in my head recently and I needed to get the feelings out. big thank u to @onlymingyus for beta-reading for me on such short notice, and I'm also tagging @sluttywonwoo because I know she needs this as much as I did lol

The sound of steady rain pattering onto the tin roof is oddly soothing; it’s steady and soft, reminiscent of a lullaby. You watch the tiny rain droplets trail down the fogged-up window with your knees tucked to your chest and a super soft woollen blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

“Hot chocolate?” Joshua’s voice interrupts the hush, his voice rich and calm as always. You turn your attention towards the kitchen, where he’s standing barefoot in plaid pyjama pants and a fitted black thermal shirt that looks annoyingly good on him. He holds out a mug, his knuckles brushing yours as you take it.

“Thanks,” you murmur, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat quickens and your cheeks begin to burn. He sits down beside you on the couch with his own hot chocolate, his thigh pressing gently against yours. Neither of you moves away.

You've been close friends for years. The kind of friends who text daily, who have no-filter phone calls at 1 a.m., and who’ve seen each other at your absolute worst. Yet, there’s something unspoken that has been building between the two of you lately; undercurrents in your laughter, in the long glances that stretch for just a little too long, and even in the way you both pretend not to notice the charged silences.

This cabin trip was supposed to be a group outing with a couple of your other mutual friends, but they bailed at the last minute. Now it’s just the two of you. You and Joshua. One fireplace. One bed.

He leans back, stretching an arm along the back of the couch nonchalantly. “You ever think about how weird this is?”

You glance at him quizically. “What?”

“This… us. Alone. In the middle of nowhere with a nasty storm outside…it feels like a movie setup.”

You smile into your mug. “If this were a movie, something dramatic would happen.”

His eyes glint. “Like what?”

You shrug. “Someone confesses a secret, or kisses someone they shouldn't.”

You don’t expect him to shift so suddenly, but within a second, he’s turning toward you, his eyes unexpectedly serious.

“What if I did have a secret?” he asks softly. Your breath catches in your throat, and your pulse quickens. “Then maybe you should tell me.”

He sets his mug down slowly, then takes yours from your hands and places it next to his. His fingers brush your wrist, his hands are warm, and his touch is lingering. “I think about kissing you more than I should.”

The room tilts. Suddenly, you forget all about the cold and the storm outside; you forget everything except for the weight of his gaze and the heat that’s beginning to coil low in your belly.

You blink. “Then maybe you should.”

He doesn’t ask twice. He leans in towards you, his lips brushing yours with slow certainty. It’s soft at first, as if he’s testing and tasting the waters. But then your fingers are tangling in his shirt, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, and a low hum rising from his chest that vibrates against your skin.

Joshua pulls back just enough to whisper, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

Your voice is breathless. “Then show me.”

The kiss quickly turns urgent and downright messy. He lifts you from your spot on the couch easily, guiding you to straddle him on the sofa. His hands slide under your shirt, his fingertips tracing the skin at your waist as if he were memorising it. His mouth slowly moves to your neck, slow, reverent kisses trailing down your skin until you're gasping, and your nails are digging deep into his shoulders.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, pulling your shirt swiftly over your head, and his eyes immediately darkening as he takes you in. You tug impatiently at his top in return, hands sliding up his bare chest, feeling the tension in his muscles as he breathes heavily beneath your touch.

By the time you're both bare, the fireplace is the only light left in the room, and the light is flickering deliciously against his skin. He lays you down on the rug in front of it, his body hovering above yours.

“Last chance to say no,” he murmurs, brushing hair from your face.

“I want this,” you whisper. “I want you.”

He groans, low and rough, as he sinks himself into you slowly, inch by inch. The stretch burns in the most perfect way, and he stills inside of you for a moment, his forehead pressed to yours. “God, you feel like everything I’ve been waiting for,” he says.

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, and that’s when he begins to move, initially starting with slow, deep thrusts that make your toes curl and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. His hands grip your hips like he’s anchoring himself, almost like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go.

You moan his name, again and again, and he kisses you through it, through every shudder, every pulse, until you're trembling beneath him, unravelling underneath him completely as your orgasm washes over you in intense waves. When it’s over, he wraps you in his arms, pulls a blanket over your bodies, and holds you like he’s never letting go.

“Still think it’s just a movie setup?” you whisper.

He smiles against your hair. “No. This is way better.”

~~~~~

The fire’s burnt down to just its embers, casting the room in a warm amber glow. You're still lying on the rug, tangled up with Joshua, his arm wrapped around your waist like he can’t bear to be apart from you just yet. But the air hasn’t cooled between you; it’s much thicker now, buzzing and electric, like the storm outside never passed through.

He brushes your lower lip with his thumb, studying you in that gentle, Joshua way. “You okay?”

You nod, unable to form words yet. His body still feels like a dream, long, strong, and just the right amount of careful. His chest is rising and falling under your palm, slick with sweat, and his heart is still thudding from how you’d just come undone for him. But he’s looking at you like he’s not even close to finished.

“Good,” he says, voice lower now. “Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”

Your breath hitches as Joshua rolls over and pulls you on top of him again, but this time he doesn’t rush. His hands map your body like he’s learning it, like he wants to remember how you react to every touch. He slides his palms over your thighs, onto your waist, and up your back, pulling you into another slow, addicting kiss.

When he flips you beneath him again, you gasp, arching yourself into him. His mouth trails down your throat, your collarbone, between your breasts, then lower, until his thick fingers are pressing into your thighs to part them gently.

“Let me taste you,” he murmurs, desperation seeping into his voice. “Please.”

You bite your lip, nodding before your voice even comes out. “Yes. God, yes.”

He lowers himself quickly between your legs, spreading you open with hands that tremble slightly, not with nerves, but with restraint. Then his mouth is on you, he’s warm, slow, and extremely deliberate. He licks a slow stripe from your entrance up to your clit, then seals his lips around it like a promise. Your hips jerk up involuntarily, and he groans, the sound is deep and hungry, and like the sound of your moans is turning him on as much as the taste of you.

He doesn’t rush with you. He eats you out like he worships you, his skilful tongue flicking and curling in rhythm with the press of his fingers sliding deep inside you. The pressure is perfect, the most amazing mixture of intense and unrelenting, with the kind of build that makes your thighs tremble and your stomach coil tight.

“You taste so good,” he whispers against you, voice strained with want. “I could stay here all night.” You tug on his hair, gasping and writhing helplessly under his tongue. “Josh, please, I’m so close-”

He hums again, adding in a second finger now, and thrusting them slowly as he sucks on your clit harder, and that’s it. You topple right over the edge, loud and breathless, with your orgasm crashing through you like lightning through the storm-soaked trees outside.

He doesn’t stop sucking or pumping his fingers until you’re shaking beneath him and pulling away only to kiss his way up your body again. His lips are slick with you when he kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You’re unreal,” he says against your mouth. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You reach down between you, wrapping your fingers around his cock; he’s hard, heavy, and hot in your hand. He hisses as your fingers graze the sensitive skin, his hips subconsciously rocking into your grip.

“Then show me,” you whisper. “I want to feel you again.”

Joshua wastes no time and lifts your leg around his waist, guiding himself back into you with a low groan. This time it’s rougher and needier; his hands grip desperately at your thighs as he drives his cock into you harder and faster than before, his self-control finally cracking to reveal a whole new side of him.

“Fuck,” he pants, sweaty forehead pressed to yours. “You feel so perfect. So fucking perfect.”

You cling to him tightly, your nails raking down his back and leaving marks in their wake, your hips meeting every thrust of his with your own.

“You don’t have to hold back anymore,” you breathe. “I can take all of you.”

There’s something that shifts in his eyes after that once seemingly innocent sentence; his eyes are darker, hungrier. Then he’s pounding into you, fast and deep, with one hand gripping your jaw to kiss you through every desperate moan. The rhythm is brutal and beautiful, like he’s waited too long for this to be gentle now.

“I’ve wanted this…” thrust “...so many nights-” thrust “-every time you smiled at me, touched me, called me yours.”

Your body is building up quickly toward release again, blinding and raw. You claw at his back, your mouth falling open in a silent cry as he continues his brutal thrusts.

“Cum for me,” he growls, his voice tight, like he’s holding back his own orgasm just to feel yours first. “One more. Let me feel it.”

You fall apart with a cry, squeezing around him so tight it drives him over the edge, too. He chokes your name as he thrusts once, twice more, and spills his cum into you, panting, his body trembling above yours. He collapses on top of you for a moment, both of you sweaty, tangled, hearts pounding. Then, he rolls onto his side, pulling you into his arms and brushing the damp hair away from your forehead.

“Still with me?” He murmurs, his voice soft now, warmer than it had been a moment ago.

You smile, still breathless. “Yeah. Definitely.”

His fingers stroke lazy circles on your spine. “We should’ve done that years ago.”

You laugh into his chest. “I know.”

~~~~

Outside, the storm finally passes. But inside, wrapped in Joshua’s arms, the fire is still burning. It’s early morning when you wake; it’s barely light outside, the sky now a soft grey smear behind the cabin windows, storm remnants remaining. The fire has gone out, but the room is still warm, and Joshua’s body is still wrapped around yours.

He’s spooning you, with one arm heavy over your waist, and his breath warm against the back of your neck. For a moment, you don’t move. You just lie there, smiling to yourself, your skin still sensitive from the night before. But then you feel it, him, pressed hard against your ass, unmistakable even under the sheets.

And then, slowly, he moves. His hips roll lazily, the thick press of him grinding against you just enough to make your breath hitch. His hand slides up your bare stomach, fingers spreading over your ribs.

“You awake?” He murmurs, voice still heavy with sleep, low and rough in a way that goes straight between your legs.

“Mmhmm.” You wiggle your hips teasingly, just to feel him groan and tense up behind you.

“You’re a menace,” he mutters, kissing your shoulder. “You can’t do that unless you’re ready for me to ruin you again.”

You arch into him, voice soft and teasing. “Maybe I want that.”

He laughs, but there’s nothing playful in the way he shifts your leg over his, tilting your hips so he can slide between your thighs. He ruts against you slowly, his cock hot and heavy against your slick folds.

“Fuck, you’re already wet.” He kisses your neck and then moves up to bite gently at your earlobe. “You missed me that much?”

You reach behind you, your fingers sliding into his soft, dark hair. “You have no idea.”

He groans and pulls your hips back harder, grinding against you deliberately, letting you feel every thick inch of him without slipping inside just yet.

“I should make you beg for it,” he whispers. “Make you say how much you need me to fill you up again.”

Your breath comes out in a gasp. “Please, Joshua, God, just…fuck me.”

His growl is low and barely audible, but he finally gives in and guides himself into you in one long, slow push. The stretch feels even deeper this time, every inch dragging along sensitive nerves that make you tremble.

He stays still for a moment, buried to the hilt, breathing hard against your neck. “You feel too good. I’m trying not to lose it already.”

You roll your hips back against him. “Then don’t hold back.”

He doesn’t. He grips your waist and starts to move, slow and deep at first, rocking his hips steadily into you from behind. You’re surrounded by him, filled by him, with the weight of his arm across your chest, and the scratch of his voice in your ear.

“This is what you wanted, huh?” He growls. “To wake up and get fucked like this? Bare and messy and full of me?”

You cry out his name, gripping the sheets surrounding you. He’s too much in the best way, the way his rhythm is completely unrelenting, and his body is flush against yours. And then he pulls out suddenly, making you whimper at the loss.

“On your back,” he says, voice cracking. “I want to see you this time.”

You roll over, your heart and mind racing, and he pushes your thighs apart with both hands, eyes dark as he kneels between them.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb lightly along your soaked folds. “Dripping for me.”

You reach for him, and he lets you pull him down, kissing you deep and hungry. He slides himself back into you in one hard thrust, and this time, his pace is rougher. He fucks you like he can’t get enough, with his eyes locked on yours, and his hips slamming into you with a raw need that makes your whole body tighten.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.

“Joshua- fuck…it’s so good, I-”

He catches your mouth in a heated, messy kiss before you can finish your sentences, one hand gripping your hip, the other laced with yours above your head.

“I’ve got you,” he pants. “You’re mine now. Say it.”

You meet his eyes, completely gone. “I’m yours. Only yours.”

That does it. He fucks you straight through your orgasm, your back arching, and your nails digging into his shoulders. And then he follows, groaning your name into your neck as he cums, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he fills you to the brim once again.

When it’s over, you’re both panting, boneless, both of your skin slick with sweat, and his body draped over yours like he never wants to leave. He kisses your forehead, your cheek, and your mouth.

“Good morning,” he whispers with a grin.

You laugh, still breathless. “You’re insane.”

“I’m in love,” he says simply, brushing damp hair away from your face. “And you’re mine now. I’m not pretending anymore.”

You pull him into another kiss.

“Good,” you whisper. “I never wanted you to.”

~~~~~

You don’t know how long you drift for after that, tangled in limbs and warmth, Joshua’s breath against your collarbone, your name still echoing around in the quiet cabin air. Eventually, your stomach grumbles.

He snorts against your skin. “Hungry?”

“I’ve been physically drained in more ways than one,” you murmur, tracing patterns into his chest with your finger. “Feed me.”

He kisses your shoulder. “I’ll make pancakes.”

You watch his back disappear into the kitchen, the way his pyjama pants are slung low on his hips, and his hair a sexy mess, it has you getting flustered all over again. You manage to pull on one of his T-shirts and pad over to the kitchen, watching as he flips pancakes like it’s a normal morning and not the aftermath of two orgasms and a life-changing confession.

He glances at you over his shoulder, eyes roaming down your bare thighs with a look that says you might be bent over a surface shortly. “That shirt looks better on you.”

You lean against the counter. “I don’t plan on giving it back.”

He raises a brow. “Who said I was asking?”

There’s something in his voice that’s deeper and huskier now, and it sends a fresh shiver down your spine. You hop up onto the counter, swinging your legs idly, almost as if you were trying to get a rise out of him. “You always cook after sex?”

He sets the spatula down and turns toward you, one brow raised. “Only when I know we’ll need the energy.”

You laugh, but the sound dies in your throat when he steps between your legs. His hands go to your thighs, spreading them slightly, and his mouth grazes over your jaw and your neck, with just enough pressure to tease but not satisfy.

“I thought we were having pancakes,” you whisper. “Oh, we are,” he murmurs. “Eventually.”

His mouth is on yours in the next second, it’s hot and open-mouthed, and also deep. His hands slide under the T-shirt, skimming your bare hips, and he pulls you closer to the edge of the counter.

“Joshua-” you gasp as his hand cups your core. “We just-”

“Not enough,” he growls against your throat. “It’s not enough yet.”

He teases you over your underwear, providing a slow pressure with his fingers that makes your hips buck toward him instinctively. Then he pulls your panties aside, dragging one fingertip along your slick folds with a groan that would have your knees buckling if you were standing upright.

“You’re already wet again.” He meets your eyes, fire dancing just beneath the surface, begging to erupt. “What am I gonna do with you?”

You bite your lip. “Whatever you want.”

The look he gives you then is pure heat. “I want to ruin you again.”

And then he’s sinking to his knees in front of you, while you grip the edge of the counter expectantly as he pulls your panties down and tosses them somewhere behind him, being just careful enough that they don’t end up in the remaining pancake batter or near the stove. He licks a slow line up your folds with his eyes locked on yours, and the filthy, wet sound of his tongue dragging over you in the quiet kitchen is insane. You throw your head back, moaning.

“Joshua…fuck!”

“Say my name again.” His voice is dark, commanding now.

“Joshua.”

“Good girl.”

He eats you out with slow precision, his skilled mouth devouring you until your legs are shaking and you're nearly sobbing with need. But right before you cum, he pulls away. Your eyes snap open. “What- why…”

He smirks. “I said I wanted to ruin you, not make it easy.”

You stare at him, your chest heaving as your orgasm build up subsides. “You’re evil.”

He licks his lips slowly, savouring the taste of you on his lips again. “And you love it.”

You reach for him, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt. He kisses you hard, tongue tangling with yours, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “I need you,” you whisper. “Now.”

Without a word, he pulls his pants down haphazardly and frees himself, thick and already hard. He doesn’t even fully undress himself; instead, he opts to just lift your legs around his waist, grip your ass tightly, and slam himself into you in one deep thrust that knocks the air from your lungs.

“Fuck!” you cry out, clinging to his shoulders that are well and truly on their way to being bruised by now with how much you’ve clung to them over the last 24 hours. His pace is absolutely brutal now; it’s completely messy, raw, and real. The edge of the counter digs into your thighs, but you don’t care. The slap of skin against skin, the groans, the way his eyes darken as he watches you fall apart, it’s all too much.

“You love being taken like this, don’t you?” He pants, snapping his hips harder. “Like a good little mess in my cabin kitchen.”

“Y-yes…oh my God!”

“I want to make you mine every way I can,” he growls. “Every room. Every angle. Every fucking sound you make.”

You cum with a scream that could shatter glass, your nails dragging down his back, your cunt clenching tight around him. He follows with a loud, strangled moan, hips jerking erratically as he spills into you. He leans his forehead against yours, both of you gasping, dripping sweat, your bodies trembling from the intensity.

“Breakfast,” you whisper, breathless. “Ruined.”

He grins. “Worth it.”

You kiss him again, slow this time, full of everything you haven’t said yet, but both of you feel anyway. You don’t need pancakes; you’ve had your fill. You're both still utterly breathless, half-naked and flushed from your kitchen rendezvous when the smell of burnt pancakes finally registers.

Joshua blinks down at the pan. “Well. That’s... charcoal.”

You burst out laughing, still perched on the counter, your thighs sticky and marked up from his hands. “Congratulations. You ruined breakfast and me in under five minutes.”

He turns, smirking. “Rude. I ruined you beautifully.”

You roll your eyes, hopping down from the counter with shaky legs. “I need a shower before we even think about trying round three.”

“I can help with that.”

“Somehow I don’t think that’ll make it cleaner.”

But he’s already grabbing your hand.

~~~~~~~

The bathroom is small and rustic, all foggy glass and stone-tile flooring, with a rainfall shower that makes it feel more like a spa than a cabin. The moment the water starts, hot and steady, you step under it, sighing.

Joshua’s behind you in seconds, sweat-slicked and still smug from his fucking earlier, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. His arms wrap securely around your waist, pulling your back to his chest, and for a while, it’s just that; his breath is warm against your neck, the warmth of him, the calm after so much build-up and tension.

His hands move over your body slowly, as if memorising your body in a whole new way; they glide over your stomach, your hips, then up to cup your breasts with reverence. He palms them gently, his slightly calloused thumbs brushing over your nipples until they tighten beneath his touch.

“Can I wash your hair?” he asks softly.

Your heart stutters, the innocent act making you feel even more secure. “Yeah. Please.”

He grabs the bottle from the shelf and works the shampoo meticulously into your hair, fingers massaging your scalp in slow, luxurious circles. You melt into it, and into him.

“That feels way too good,” you mumble.

He grins, leaning in to kiss your temple. “Told you I was good with my hands.”

Once your hair’s rinsed, he starts working on your body. He takes the loofah in one hand, his other still roaming, his touch reverent and teasing. He runs it over your shoulders, your arms, and down your back, the loofah trailing soap-slick suds across your ass before slipping between your thighs.

“Every inch of you,” he murmurs. “Mine to take care of now.”

Your breath catches, and then he turns you to face him. The water rushes over both of you now, plastering your hair to your skin, streaming down the firm lines of his chest. His hand comes up to cup your face, and he kisses you, it’s soft and wet, but also feels thorough, almost like he’s savouring you all over again.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he says against your lips. “Dripping wet, flushed, still a little ruined from before.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him harder. He lifts your leg around his waist without breaking the kiss, and in one fluid movement, he’s inside you again, his cock is hot and so thick, stretching you open until you’re gasping into his mouth.

This time, however, it’s slow. He fucks you with long, deliberate thrusts, deep enough to make your toes curl against the tile. He has one hand braced on the wall, while the other cradles the back of your head as he looks into your eyes with that intense Joshua focus that makes your heart race even faster than your body.

“You feel so good like this,” he whispers. “Like you were made for me.”

You whimper, hands gripping his shoulders for what seemed to be the nth time. “Don’t stop, God, please don’t stop.”

He keeps the rhythm steady, kissing down your jaw, your throat, his voice a rasp in your ear. “You’re everything. You know that, right?” You nod, nearly sobbing from how full you feel. “Yes- yes, Josh…please!”

He rubs your clit in slow circles as he thrusts into you, and that is just enough to push you over the edge again, trembling around him, crying out his name as you fall apart in his arms. He groans as you clench around him tightly, still working you through it before finally letting go, burying himself deep inside you once again with a low, drawn-out moan as he cums inside you for the third time that morning.

When the tremors pass, he presses his forehead to yours, chest rising and falling. “You’re... dangerous,” he breathes, grinning.

“So are you,” you whisper back. He leans down and kisses your collarbone, then your mouth, then gently sets you back on your feet.

And together, warm water washing over you, skin flushed and hearts pounding, you finally feel clean. And utterly, completely his.

[bee-taylorsversion]

[bee-taylorsversion]

Saltwater & Shadows

Author's note: It is abit late to post this cause it has been a while since Cheol updated his insta. But yea I might have gone feral when I saw the pictures. ESPECIALLY THAT FUCKING TATTOO UGH. I do welcome feedback or any thoughts! Enjoy~ Bye-um~ Description: You teased him first—just a little. He teased you back—a lot. Lingering stares, barely-there touches, heat building like the Hawaiian sun. But when you finally snap and ride him like you own him, Seungcheol reminds you exactly who’s in control. Warnings: Smut (18+), rough sex, dominant Seungcheol, subby/bratty reader moments, lap riding, doggy style, oral (f. receiving, implied), unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it up in real life!), orgasm control, spanking, dirty talk, creampie, strength kink, size kink, power play, possessiveness, overstimulation, teasing, intense chemistry, hotel sex Masterlist for my page: Lies Lost In Silence

He knew what he was doing.

That tank top was tight on purpose. That silver chain, slung just so across his collarbones, caught the sun because he angled himself just right. And that smirk?

That fucking smirk.

Seungcheol was leaning against the balcony railing of your villa now, arms crossed, one brow cocked like he knew you were staring. He was shirtless—again. Skin still warm from the sun, hair pushed back from the ocean breeze, chest rising and falling like temptation itself.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, not even looking at you.

You snapped.

“Shut up.”

He turned to face you fully, blinking, surprised—and then laughing when you stalked toward him with that determined fire in your eyes.

“Did I do something?” he teased.

“Yeah. You exist.”

You didn’t even give him a warning. Your hands hit his chest hard enough to push him back into the deck chair. He went easily, legs spreading wide, watching with that smug look like he’d been waiting for this.

“Oh?” he smirked. “You’re feeling bold now?”

“I’m feeling done,” you growled, crawling into his lap, “with your smug little looks and your cocky mouth.”

“You like my cocky mouth.”

You yanked his chain, pulling him closer. “I like it better when it’s busy.”

His grin widened—but he shut up. For now.

You kissed him like you were mad about it—like his tan lines offended you and his smirk was a personal attack. Your fingers dug into his hair as you rocked against the growing bulge in his shorts. He groaned into your mouth, hands gripping your hips, letting you grind as you pleased.

“Thought you’d be tired after the beach,” he muttered breathlessly.

You rolled your hips harder, dragging your heat over him. “I’m not. And clearly, neither are you.”

“Not when you’re on top of me like this, baby.”

His hands moved beneath your flowy dress, fingers trailing dangerously high. But this was your moment—you pinned his wrists to the armrest and leaned in.

“No,” you whispered against his lips. “You don’t get to touch. Not yet.”

His jaw clenched. You saw the way his arms flexed, resisting the urge to flip you over and take control—but he didn’t. He stayed still. Obedient. Dying inside.

You kissed down his neck slowly, biting lightly just above his collarbone. “This is for all the smirks. All the cocky little glances like you’re God’s gift.”

“Maybe I am,” he muttered, grinning.

You rocked down hard. He hissed.

“Still think you’re funny?”

“A little.”

You reached between your bodies, tugged his shorts down just enough to free him. You weren’t even wearing panties—your own small rebellion from earlier—and you lined yourself up without hesitation.

“Fuck,” he breathed, eyes snapping open when you sank down onto him, slow but firm, taking every inch until your thighs were flush against his. “Fuck, baby.”

“Still smirking?” you asked sweetly.

He let out a choked laugh, hands white-knuckling the chair. “Not anymore.”

You rode him slow at first—just enough to keep him desperate. Every time his hips twitched to thrust up, you tightened around him, warning him not yet. And when you leaned back, hands on his thighs, putting your whole body on display under the fading golden light, you saw it—

The smirk again.

Smaller this time. A little broken. But still there.

“I hate you,” you gasped, slamming down harder.

“Sure you do,” he groaned. “Hate me so much you’re soaking for me.”

“Shut up.”

He didn’t. Not really. But his hands finally moved—ripping your dress off your body, grabbing your ass as he thrust up into you with bruising force.

“Done letting you play now,” he growled. “You started this. Now take it.”

And God, you did.

You took all of it—his cock, his praise, the way he held you like he owned every inch of your body. He fucked you until your thighs trembled, until your moans bounced off the villa walls, until his name left your lips like a prayer you couldn’t stop chanting.

When you came, it was sudden and overwhelming, your body clenching around him as stars exploded behind your eyes. And when he came—hips jerking up one last time—it was with your name spilling from his mouth, broken and raw, as he emptied into you with a growl pressed into your neck.

You slumped against him after, boneless, skin slick with sweat and the late-day heat.

“Still smug?” you mumbled, breathless.

He huffed a tired laugh. “Less smug. More obsessed.”

You smiled into his neck. “That’s fair. I’m obsessed too.”

But then he shifted.

You gasped as Seungcheol stood, still inside you, lifting you effortlessly like you weighed nothing at all. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, arms flung around his shoulders.

“Cheol—” you whimpered, already too sensitive.

He growled low, possessive. “Since you want me so bad, baby… you’re gonna take me.”

And then he threw you onto the bed, body bouncing against the mattress, too stunned to even gasp. You hadn’t even caught your breath when he flipped you onto your stomach, hands firm and fast.

“Face down. Ass up,” he barked.

You buried your face in the pillow, breath hitching. “Wait, I—I can’t—”

He lined himself up again, his thick length teasing your dripping entrance.

“Yes, you fucking can.”

And then he slammed into you, deep and full, no warning, no mercy.

Your scream was muffled by the pillows, your fingers clawing the sheets as he bottomed out inside you, cock pressing into every sweet, sore spot at once.

“You feel that?” he groaned, gripping your hips tightly. “This is what you’ve been begging for. Every look. Every time you fucking moaned when I put sunscreen on you—”

You gasped, legs shaking as he snapped his hips forward again, harder.

“All weekend,” he growled, punctuating each word with another brutal thrust. “Wearing those little shorts. Letting me touch you under the water. Acting like I wouldn’t wreck you the first chance I got.”

You choked on a moan as his hand came down—hard—against your ass.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say you fucking love this.”

“I-I love it—” you sobbed, voice shaking. “I love your cock—God, I love it—”

“That’s right,” he groaned. “Say you want more.”

“More, please—Cheol, please—”

He grabbed your shoulders, yanking you back to meet every ruthless thrust. “Fuck, baby. That’s it. Take it. Take all of me.”

You didn’t even know how many times you came anymore. It blurred—moaning, shaking, clenching around him until you were soaked and dripping, tears falling into the pillows. He fucked you like it was the last thing he’d ever do.

When he came again, it was with a loud, broken moan, cock pulsing inside you as he filled you to the brim.

You collapsed, barely breathing.

He didn’t move at first. Just laid over your back, kissing your spine.

Eventually, you turned your head, cheek to the sheets. “Cheol… don’t tease me anymore,” you whispered weakly.

He kissed your shoulder gently.

Then whispered against your skin:

“God, I love you.”

[bee-taylorsversion]

dipped ⌁ c.sc [m]

↳ part of the carat bay collab!

⌁ synopsis: your summers since university have always been spent spinning in odd circles around town, pockets overflowing with cash - until your clerical 9-5 lays you off for 'spring cleaning.' luckily, you find a summer job fast: tending to the 'adults only' section of your local waterpark, and being at choi seungcheol's beck and call. ⌁ genre: stupid big dumb idiots to lovers ; angst, fluff, smut. ⌁ pairing: grad student!choi seungcheol x fem!lifeguard!reader ⌁ word count: 33.8k ⌁ rating: 18+. minors do not interact. ⌁ warnings: swearing, alcohol, smoking (weed), mentions of past sports-related injuries (seungcheol), one weird encounter with a creep (yn and seungcheol) ; wonpil + brian of day6 mentioned as side characters and i'm SORRY i LOVE wonpil + brian okay don't say shit to me ; seungcheol is a flirty fuck and very much rolls with the punches ; yn has many Issues™ (read: no contact with her parents, fucks her roommate, stands by girl code religiously (lies), has a weird relationship with aftercare) ; lots of calling people whores and sluts (listen...just...okay?) ; so. many. insults. ; mentions of joshua x reader because i love making things extra spicy ; yn does NAWWWT like seungcheol (yes she does) ; pet/nicknames: lifeguard barbie, babe, princess, etc || smut warnings: unprotected sex ; making out (they kiss...so much...free me), dry humping/grinding, nipple play (m/f. rec), body worship (m/f rec.) because it's not a haologram fic without body worship and nipple play ; oral (m/f rec.), handjob, fingering (f. rec), cumplay/swapping (?) ; kinda subby!cheol but it just depends on how you see it i guess ; begging ; missionary, creampie ; i think that's it! ⌁ what to listen to: bad romance - lady gaga ; yo voy - zion y lenox ; fear of water - noah kahan ; fine line - harry styles ; there is light in us - mathbonus ; the beach - the neighbourhood ; saturn - sleeping at last ; i'm gonna love you - d.o, wonstein. ⌁ author's note: preface: me posting this is not condoning gyucheol's recent behaviors [read my stance on it here + here.] i am fulfilling a commitment i made before they went on the showterview. that being said: i definitely lost the plot several times and i am so sorry for that :( this is officially seungcheol's debut on haologram! also apologies for the smut, i know it's ass. thank you to @camandemstudios for sponsoring this video fic, and thank you to my lovely wonderful amazing betas that didn't even get to read most of this because i'm insane: viv @heartepub ; aeris @aeristudios ; tomo @tomodachiii 💘 as usual, sun dividers by the lovely @/saradika-graphics here on tumblr! enjoy! (or don't....i don't care [as])

"SO YOU GOT LAID OFF. IT'S FINE, Y/N. WE'LL FIGURE IT OUT."

You hate to say it, but you don't think you've ever hated your roommate more than you do at this very moment.

"It's fine? Joshua, I'm fifteen thousand dollars in debt, okay? I have rent, I have groceries, I have to pay my phone bill! How am I supposed to get by without my job?!"

He looks over the magazine in his hand with a confused look, "Y/N, I pay all that stuff and I just sent in a check a few weeks ago for your student loans. We've been on the same phone plan since you cut off your parents, and you pay our light bill. Which is never over sixty dollars, because neither of us are ever home. Don't play with me right now."

"Joshua!"

He sighs, tossing the magazine back onto the coffee table as you cross your arms on your chest. He's looking at you like you've grown a second head, as if his reaction to this information is perfectly valid and you are the one getting your panties in a twist. Granted, it's only been a few hours since you got home from the horrible Friday of sitting at a desk and getting paid to do nothing but answer the phone and book one or two appointments – but you're in distress, damnit!

"What do you want me to say, Y/N? I've got you? Because you know I do." You hate the way your heart warms at that. It was true – Joshua was your best friend through and through. He'd saved you from so many odd situations – including the time you somehow let a pipe burst in your old student apartment, and he found a way to blame it on the university (read: coaxed Yoon Jeonghan to fuck up more parts of your apartment with a promise of letting him borrow his car for dates.) He'd been a huge rock in your years away from home, and when home was no longer home and your relationship with your parents crumbled.

Joshua was the only sense of home that you had left, and you'd be a fool not to recognize the fruits of his efforts: the apartment you both safely inhabited, the food in your belly and the unlimited storage plan he paid for that allowed you to download multiple oddball games of the Doodle Jump and Candy Crush nature. You huff, choosing to plop down on the couch next to him with a pout on your lip.

"But I like having my own money." You mutter. "It helps me feel like an adult that contributes to society."

"You are an adult that contributes to society, Y/N. Don't be so hard on yourself." He reminds you, before reaching for the television remote. You open your mouth to argue when a soft zztt sound is heard, leaving you and Joshua sitting in the darkness. There is a moment of silence before you feel Joshua shift next to you, the only light coming from the setting sun through the blinds. You put your head in your hands, before Joshua sighs.

"You're not serious." You look up slightly, peeking at him through your fingers. From the low light, you can see the furrow in his brows and it only makes you let out a noise of guilt.

"Sixty dollars, Y/N. You didn't have sixty dollars?" "...I spent it all." Your voice is meek, and he runs a hand over his face slowly, a heavy breath from his nostrils sounding in your ears before he crosses his arms.

"On what? What could have possibly been more important than the light bill? You know we can't cook without it, right?" You feel your face grow hot as he gives you a pointed look, and you sigh. You avoid his eyes as you clear your throat. "You remember when you came home last week and you asked me where your green hoodie was? And I told you it was in my drawer and then you…you found the, uh…" You feel your throat grow tight in embarrassment as his eyes widen, and he covers his face with his hand.

"Let me get this straight, okay? You mean to tell me, you spent your last sixty dollars on that stupid vibrator? You didn't pay our light bill because you wanted to…I can't even look at you right now." He shakes his head in disbelief, moving to stand up when you grab his arm.

"I'm sorry! It has sixteen different settings, you wouldn't understand–" "Y/N, why do you even need that many?!" You let go of his arm, crossing yours with a huff as you stare at your feet. "Can't a girl want options?" "When it's between jerking off and paying your light bill, you don't get a choice. How would you feel if I wasted our grocery money on one of those inflatable fuck dolls?" "Embarrassed, honestly. You're a good looking guy, you can do better." He scoffs out a laugh, and you try to swallow the humiliated laugh that's crawling up your throat but it only slips out the moment he turns back around to look at you. He covers his face, crouching by the side of the couch before running his fingers through his hair and giving you a pointed look. "You know what? I was going to take it easy on you, but you've really just left me no choice." He shakes his head, digging his phone out of his pocket as your eyes widen. You lurch forward, knocking him over in your attempt to grab it out of his hand as he wriggles away from you. "Shua, no!" "Shua, yes! Sixty dollars on a piece of plastic, Y/N! I don't even perceive you as a romantic entity and I could do better!" "Hey! It's silicone!" You shove his shoulder as he manages to click around his contacts, before the phone starts dialing. You manage to climb onto his chest, your legs straddling his torso as your thighs pin him in place, your hand knocking the phone out of his hand just as he presses the speaker button.

"Hello?"

Jeonghan.

"No! Jeonghan–" Joshua manages to flip the two of you over, quickly pinning your arms to your sides as he straddles you. You let out a strangled groan, attempting to kick his back as Jeonghan's staticky, cynical laugh rings through his phone.

"Han, please tell me you still need a lifeguard to take over your spot this summer." Joshua breathes out, semi-out of breath as you manage to free one of your hands, reaching up and twisting his nipple through his shirt. He squeals, pushing your hand away and pinning it above you on the floor as you let out an aimless scream.

"Joshua, I'll see you on Monday, alright? Stop torturing that poor girl, she pays your light bill."

"That's the thing, Jeonghan! She didn't, so you have to let her take your spot. Please! I'll even shell out another week of paid vacation time for you!" Another thing about Joshua? Aside from the incredible efforts he put forth into your friendship, your roommate was also known to manage a waterpark with Yoon Jeonghan every summer; just six miles from your apartment was Carat Bay, where he'd been working since you were freshmen in college.

He also worked as a vocal coach from Monday to Friday at one of the local entertainment companies; but that was just for his Pokémon cards, his caffeine addiction, and the occasional ice cream from the convenience store down the street. Rarely did any of that money see the light of day, simply stacking interest in his savings account while he hoarded the money from his job at the waterpark to make last the whole year.

Out of all the odd jobs the two of you took (because Lord knows neither of you were using your degrees all that much) – his job at the company, the waterpark, and your clerical position were the steadiest. You would occasionally find yourself patrolling random hotel grounds on the weekends as security, or slipping into an apron to fill in for your friend Sana at her cafe for a bit more cash to stuff into your rainy day fund.

Sometimes Joshua would come home smelling like fried chicken (and carrying it, too) or with his face covered in grease from swooping in at Soonyoung's auto repair shop. The nights when the two of you were home were restless – scavenging newspapers and Craigslist ads for anything you could find: house sitting, housekeeping, even weekend nannying gigs.

Every penny that landed in Joshua's bank account was frugally spent – but it was smartly spent. Hence why you, not paying for the one thing he put in your name, is a big deal.

"Fine, I'll talk to you on Monday. I need to run some things by you before the park opens. Tell Y/N to get a bathing suit, preferably not that pretty pink one she wore to Junhui's birthday last year." "Oh, fuck off! I was the life of the party!" You scowl, attempting once more to free yourself from Joshua's grasp but ultimately failing. He giggles, like the lunatic he is, your roommate giggles.

"I'll see you on Monday, pretty girl. You and your nip slips." Jeonghan hangs up before you can retort, your sentence caught in your throat as Joshua smiles down at you smugly.

"I hate you." You grumble, before feeling his lips press to your forehead. You move your head to hit his face, but he swiftly moves back before you can make contact with his chin. "You love me. Now, go fetch me the bill from the fridge, I'll pay it." He climbs off you, letting go of your hand as you scowl. You make it a point to kick his hip, your heel meeting the socket and making him scoff before nudging his toe into your ribcage. "Go!"

The night is full of bickering after Joshua pays the bill, with muttered curses as you bump into things and open the front window to let the cooler night breeze flow through the room. You fan your face with the morning newspaper, with Joshua making a snide remark about you looking at the job offers in the Business section.

You retreat to your room for the night as he picks at you, and the lights turn on just as you pass the bathroom. He's finishing shaving his face in the dark, using the light of a candle to look at himself in the mirror. You roll your eyes, sliding into your room when he catches the door.

"What are you doing?" Your eyes are wide as your dripping roommate pushes past you, beelining for your dresser in the corner. He yanks open the top drawer, throwing a few pairs of your underwear over his shoulder. "Joshua!" "Aha!" He holds up the hot pink vibrator you'd spent the light bill money on, tilting it towards you. "You'll get this back after your first paycheck hits the bank, or when you start prioritizing things."

You scoff, reaching for it as he holds it over his head. "Joshua, give it back! I paid good money for that thing!" You grimace, "and you shouldn't be so comfortable grabbing my intimate items! I put that inside me!" "There are many other things you could put inside you that don't cost sixty dollars, Y/N." He rolls his eyes as you claw at his shirt, your fingernails sinking into his bicep as he shakes you off like a leaf. "Me included." "Joshua!" "Either I keep it or you use it in front of me. Your choice." A part of you wants to believe he's joking, but yet another thing about you and Joshua – no conversation topic was off limits, and there had been quite a few conversations that should've never left the sanctity of your sober minds.

Kinks, fetishes and favorite sex positions included. Did Joshua need to know you wanted to be folded like a pretzel? No! Did it matter when you were drunk off three mango margaritas two years ago at the cabana in that fuckass waterpark he manages? Also no!

So he's not kidding. Not in the slightest, and you can tell he knows he's won as you shrink back with a scowl.

"So, that's a no on the peep show?" He has the audacity to tease you as he slinks out of your bedroom, your vibrator bright in his hand as he presses buttons. "Ooh, this is nice~" "Joshua!" "Goodnight, Y/N!"

You bury your face in your hands, a groan from your lips as you contemplate your choices. 

And ultimately, make the wrong one as you follow Joshua back down the hall towards his bedroom.

"Hey, pretty girl."

"Fuck off, Jeonghan." You mutter under your breath, setting your backpack on the table in front of you. Joshua wasn't starting at the waterpark again for another week, but considering you were new and you were taking Jeonghan's spot for the first half of the summer – the three of you were now going to be stuck in the resource office to fill out paperwork for the day.

However, Joshua is out in the park helping the janitorial staff, entrusting you into Jeonghan's devilish hands.

"What happened to the swimsuit? You know we have to test your swimming skills, right?" You sighed, Jeonghan's eyes genuinely concerned as you pulled the hem of your shirt up. You wore an orange one-piece under it, your jeans a little too loose on your hips and held up by a shoestring. "Nice color, but wrong one. We'll give you an official one once we're done here…you're really struggling if you're using a shoelace as a belt, Y/N." Jeonghan snickers, earning a smack from you on his shoulder. He scowls, batting your hand away, "It's not my fault you're here! I'm not the person you pissed off!" "Oh, trust me. He's not pissed anymore." You roll your eyes, your cheeks hot as you shove your hair out of your face. Jeonghan pauses for a moment, the pen in his hand hovering over the first stack of papers in front of him as he stares at you. You avoided his gaze, nibbling on your lip as you watched the hands on the clock tick – before the click of his tongue rings out.

"About time." "It's not the first time, you know that." Jeonghan snorts, shaking his head as he folds his hands together. "When will the two of you admit that it's more? No one just takes care of student loans, rent, groceries…there has to be more." "Jeonghan, I don't want to do this right now. Joshua and I are just friends, and we've only hooked up out of sheer desperation. Trust me, I've tried to have feelings for the guy." You roll your eyes, scoffing out a laugh as Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

"You guys need to stop sleeping together, eventually someone is going to come along and you'll have to explain that weird ass dynamic." He clicks the pen, making you snicker as you lean closer.

"We didn't sleep together this time, not that it's any of your business." You lie as you grab a pen from the cup holder, and he only shakes his head again as your shoulder brushes his. "You're right, it's not. Now, focus. Can you hold your breath for more than two minutes?" The paperwork is easy as you scrawl your signature across pages without reading them. The banter is easy, and the way Jeonghan brings up your nip slip at Junhui's birthday party a year ago makes you shove him into the nearest pool when the two of you step outside. It's way too hot for early May, and you curse yourself as you try to cover your chest with your arms as Jeonghan crawls out of the pool like a demon from a sewer.

"You guys are done already? That paperwork took me hours with Soonyoung." Joshua walks over, his hands tucked into the bright red swim trunks that matched your suit. You roll your eyes, dipping your foot into the pool in front of you. "I didn't read, I just signed. You could be selling me to the Antichrist for a corn chip and I'd have no idea." You shrug, shivering at the cold feeling of the water. He only smiles, sidling up next to you as Jeonghan scowls up at you.

"I hate the both of you, I hope you know that." He mutters, shoving his wet hair out of his eyes and wiping the chlorinated water off his face. "I shouldn't even be here, I should be packing for Bali like I said I would be." "Oh, but we'll miss you so much when you're gone!" You feign a pout, making Joshua snicker as he crouches down next to Jeonghan and offers a hand. "It'll be fast, plus we've got other things to do today, too. We still have to stop by the market and get groceries." He dips his feet in the pool, leaning back on his hands as you bounce on your toes. "On a Monday?"  "The market happens to be the least busy on Monday evenings. Not that you would know, since you spend your Monday nights locked in your bedroom with a vibrator and surrounded by Smiski figurines." Joshua rolls his eyes as you scowl, nudging his thigh with your foot.

"When will you drop it? I said I was sorry!" "When you jump in the pool and give me two laps without coming up for air. Go." Unfortunately, your scowling does nothing as Joshua asks one of the other employees to bring a towel out for you. You lower yourself to sit on the edge of the pool, before getting shoved in by a wet hand on your back. It's freezing, and you let out a strangled scream as you come up for air. "Jeonghan!" "When a kid is drowning in the deep end, you don't have time to acclimate. Now, go! Two laps!"

You swallow the rage building in your throat, and file the idea of deep conditioning your hair to the back of your mind as you sink back under the water. For whatever reason, you don't mind the idea of the waterpark job. It's steady, and Joshua always comes home with bottles of sunscreen that free you from yet another minuscule expense. He would bring you to-go cups from the cabana of their Tiger's Blood snow cone, and the occasional cucumber under-eye patches from the spa that catered mostly to the tired mothers that visited the park.

But when you really thought about it – kids were really gross. Peeing in the pools, snotty, stained with multiple colors of syrups from the very same cabana snow cones you enjoyed when they didn't get paid for by your debit card.

The only two pros were the money, and working with all of your stupid, testosterone-fueled friends. At least you wouldn't be alone, and you'd be entertained.

You spend the rest of the afternoon at the waterpark being pushed into random pools and scenarios, and Joshua signs you up for the morning CPR course the next week. He tells you he'll give you a tour on your first day.

"What does Jeonghan even do besides shove people in pools all day?" You mutter as you walk back to Joshua's car, and Joshua snickers. "Whatever he wants. His job is in the Adults Only section of the park, and we have quite a few regulars. You'll love them, and that's the part of the park that makes the most in tips so just enjoy it." He shrugs, before clicking the doors open. You shuffle in, your hair still wet from the pool and you feel gross in your damp bathing suit. The water seeps through your jeans, making every movement uncomfortable as you shift in your seat.

"If I get a UTI, it's on you, Shua." "First of all, I washed my hands before we started messing around last night–" You reach over to smack his arm, earning a laugh as he slips his keys into the ignition. "I meant from the pool water!" "We have showers, Y/N." "Those showers are crawling with athlete's foot and pinworms and you know it."

He only laughs as you huff, and you cross your arms on your chest as he pulls out of the parking lot. His gaze is soft as he glances at you, holding his hand out for you to take.

"I know it's not ideal, but you can't just stay home all day, you know? It'll drive you mad." His voice is gentle, and you sigh as you mess with his fingers.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry about the light bill, really." "Y/N, I love you. I'm not always going to be around, though, and the light bill…you're gonna have to earn your way out of that one. I mean, a vibrator? Come on." "Sixteen settings! Remember how number seven felt!?" You squeeze his fingers, and he only snorts as he swats your hand away. "Shua!" "Yes, it felt great. Now, do you want dinner? I don't feel like cooking and Lord knows we'll be sick for days if you're in the kitchen." "You love me, Joshua Hong." "I do, now tell me what you want."

Maybe it should be weird.

Maybe it should be weird, that you and Joshua are so close despite the three sexual encounters you've had. Despite the fact that you stupidly made a virginity pact and went through with it, and the fact that he came to you after a breakup and things went left, and last night – sitting on his bed with your back against his chest and his cock sheathed inside you as muffled your whimpers with your shirt between your teeth.

And it's even weirder knowing that neither of you have ever wanted it to be romantic. Many conversations about it, even drunken ones – but nothing comes of it because the idea of romance with each other seemingly disgusts the two of you. You're fine with the three times you've hooked up, you're fine with the way he kisses you, you're fine with all of it.

And you know that Jeonghan is right – there will be a time when someone comes into your life and wonders if. If you've kissed Joshua, if you've slept with him, if you've ever had feelings for him.

But that's a problem for later you.

"YES MA'AM, THE CABANA IS OPEN."

It's only been three days. Three days and you're already appalled at the amount of parents that haul ass to get drunk off mango margaritas and spiked Bahama Mama snow cones at nine in the morning. You're also impressed at the amount of beautiful women that line the Adults Only section of the Olympic-sized pool, all sizes of tanning lotions laid out on the ground and floppy hats strewn about.

You find yourself constantly sipping on something – courtesy of the very sweet cabana boy named Chan – and flipping through a magazine from your seat under the large parasol. You look up every once in a while to take a ticket, or redirect someone – but the worst part is dealing with college frat boys who try to flirt and make comments about your swimsuit. You almost want to let them run around the pool – maybe they'll slip.

The job was easy – you walked around every hour, reapplied sunscreen, even snacking on something one of the lovely park mothers decided to slip you. Oreos, handfuls of pistachios, even heavily stacked sandwiches with crunchy chips slipped inside – and you'd had so many over the course of your first three days at the park.

You even dipped your feet in the hot springs at the end of the day before shoving your flip flops on and making the bike ride home – no use in bringing your car all that often, right? Waste of money and gas! Gas that Joshua pays for, but hey. Who are you to waste it?

The owner of the car.

"Jeonghan didn't tell me there was a pretty new girl." You don't bother glancing up, flipping the page of the magazine in your lap with one hand before speaking.

"Yeah, well. Jeonghan didn't tell me all the guys here are either sleazy, fathers, or both." You roll your eyes, stopping your finger over a photo of Zendaya at the Met Gala. "Welcome to Carat Bay, this is the Adults Only section. Any children brought with you must remain supervised outside of the sector. The Saunas and the Hot Springs must be reserved before usage. Is there anything I can help you with?" You absently fish through the coir basket in front of you, before grabbing a lanyard and holding it up. It gets taken out of your hand gently, fingertips brushing yours as you thumb another page of the magazine. "Y/N, you have to actually look at the customers when you greet them." You hear Joshua's voice in your ear, but don't look up as you skim through the outfits on the page. "Y/N." "Mmh, yeah. I hear ya." You nod, sighing as you flip the magazine closed and throw it onto the pile of towels next to you. Glancing up, you see a tall man sizing you up – his eyes a dark brown, lined with thick lashes and the strongest brows you'd seen since you broke up with Wonpil after three years.

Don't leave your girlfriend alone in her apartment right after you fuck, dipshit.

"Y/N." Joshua calls again, and you tear your eyes away to look at your roommate giving you a hard stare. His arms are crossed on his chest, "You said you'd try. This isn't trying." "I'm showing up, aren't I? And the MILFs–" "The mothers, Y/N." You roll your eyes, "The mothers love my nonchalance! They're just here to tan and get drunk, how is…sorry, what's your name?" You blink up at the man in front of you, and he only smiles softly as Joshua pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Seungcheol, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Seungcheol, and he's one of our regulars. He's the only one who really uses the hot springs, so they're already booked out for him." Joshua taps the tablet in front of you, and you narrow your eyes as his name slips off your tongue.

"Seungcheol? Like…Choi Seungcheol? Like…No. 95 on the soccer team at SNU, Choi Seungcheol?" It's slightly bitter in your mouth, and Joshua runs his hand over his face in frustration. Choi Seungcheol looks oddly impressed, maybe with a hint of smugness hidden behind his smile as Joshua speaks.

"Yes, Y/N. All that and also, Jeonghan's roommate. Now, does it matter?" "It does when he broke my roommate's heart freshman year." You cross your arms on your chest, and Choi Seungcheol gives Joshua a seemingly knowing look as he shrugs his shoulders.

"Could be anyone." "Whore."

Joshua gapes at you as you mutter and lean back in your chair, but Seungcheol only smiles, shaking his head. He tucks the lanyard in the pocket of his pink swim trunks before shrugging.

"They do say that your reputation precedes you." He runs his eyes over your shoulders lightly, before they flicker back to your face. You scowl, splaying your hands over your exposed skin as he tilts his head. "But I can assure you, you have nothing to worry about." "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Did you just call me ugly?" You huff, and Joshua muffles a sigh with his palms over his face. You look over at him, "Your friend just called me ugly, Shua." Seungcheol smiles mischievously, before letting himself through the gate. He flicks the brim of your floppy hat, squealing softly as you reach your hand back to swat him away. Joshua peeks at the two of you through his fingers, and you frown as you see the hint of a smile start to show on his lips – before you feel Seungcheol's breath on the shell of your ear.

"Don't let what I do or don't think about you keep you up at night, pretty girl." "Joshua!"

You swat Seungcheol away, who only hums something reminiscent of La Vie En Rose as he practically skips away. Joshua is pursing his lips, trying to hold back his laughter when you throw the magazine you'd been flipping through in his direction. He catches it, before rolling it up and smacking your leg with it.

"Y/N, Seungcheol is a customer. Whether you like him or not, you have to treat him with basic decency. Remember what you're working towards here, and all sixteen of its settings." Joshua turns up his nose as he tucks the magazine under his arm and walks away. You scoff in disbelief, before turning back to see Seungcheol very much doing what whores do – flirting with one of the younger mothers, her leopard print bikini catching your eyes as he crouched next to her. 

She's blushing – or maybe it's the heat from the blazing summer sun.

"Ugh." You feel a sour taste fill your mouth as his eyes flicker to meet yours, your own rolling as he winks. Tonguing your cheek, you face forward once more, now burdened with actually having to do your job when you hear Joshua call out to you over his shoulder from a few feet away.

"And you're not even friends with Jaehee anymore!" "A friendship may fade, but girl code never wanes!"

"What do you mean, he's in our friend circle?" You're sitting in the park's office, eating your lunch when Joshua drops the stupendous bomb on you. You've got mayonnaise on your lip as you look up at him, who rolls his eyes as he swipes his thumb over it. You scowl, swatting his hand away before wiping a napkin on your face, swallowing the bite of your sandwich.

"Y/N, Cheol has been in our friend group since college. How do you not know this?" 

Mingyu – long-time friend, the group's stoner chef, and waterslide operator for the last three years – butts into your conversation, holding a cup of yoghurt in his hand as he sidles up next to you. You scoff, dipping one of your chips into the salsa Joshua brought from home, before shaking your head.

"I don't hang out with scum." "Because he was always at practice, Y/N. Not because he wasn't part of your life." You chew silently, pursing your lips as you shake your head again. "Because I don't need that sort of energy in my life. I have enough with Soonyoung whoring around, I don't need another one who also broke Jaehee's heart. I don't need another so-called 'friend' that has slept with all my girlfriends and thus left me in the hands of this stupid group of testosterone and Dude Wipe users that make fun of me when I have a nip slip." "Soonyoung slept with all six of them?" Mingyu gapes, and you snort as you shove the last bite of your sandwich into your cheek. Chewing carefully, you nod as he spoons peach yoghurt into his mouth. "Impressive."

"The point here, Y/N, is that Seungcheol is involved in your life. He's a regular, he's Jeonghan's roommate, and he's my friend, our friend. You've never been around him simply because of divine intervention. He's been in our apartment, he knows who you are–" "He knows about the nip slip at Junhui's birthday party that he missed because he stayed running drills on the field." Mingyu snorts, making you frown as you take another chip between your fingers. "I told him not to do it, you know. Now he's a fucking regular here to heal himself because he won't let the other masseuses at his job touch him."

Your ears perk, "What do you mean, heal himself?" "He frayed his hip labrum during practice in college, and he just kept playing. He got hurt during nationals and it was a pretty bad tear, and he had surgery. The heat of the water helps the pain he gets, which isn't all that often but it likes to act up during the summer because that's when he's the most active. He was super bummed about it, and didn't talk to anyone for literal months while he was in physical therapy." Joshua explains, and you feel your chest ache slightly. 

You do remember seeing something about his departure from the soccer team through the campus forums, with people sending flowers and gifts to the recovery center he had been at. People talked about it like it was nothing, but even with your disdain for Seungcheol – you listened. You knew he was one of the best players on the team, everyone in the sport-playing world at Seoul National knew that if anyone went pro: it was going to be him.

So you weren't surprised to hear that it hit him like a truck.

"That's…really sad, actually." You murmur, "But it doesn't change the fact that–" "Oh, give it a rest! Jaehee has long gotten over it, trust me." Joshua rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his Topo Chico. You narrow your eyes at him, watching the way a guilty blush coats his cheeks as he sets the bottle down. "What?" "What do you know about Jaehee, Shua?" "Nothing." "She's been off social media for years, and she only posts updates on her birthday and after she got her master's. So how, my good sir, do you know she's over it when she didn't date for the rest of college?" Joshua clears his throat, and Mingyu snickers next to you as you point a chip at your roommate. "Spill." "I saw her a few weeks ago. We just bumped into each other at the market, no big deal."

He tongues his cheek, his forefinger tracing the spout of his drink as you cross your arms on your chest. The door opens, revealing one Kwon Soonyoung in a hideous tiger-print Speedo and sunscreen swiped on his cheeks. You grimace, covering your eyes with one hand before you speak. "Joshua Hong." He scoffs, presumably rolling his eyes. "Can we not do this here? You know I'm a man of my word, I don't kiss and tell." 

"That means they hooked up." You hear Soonyoung's voice in your ear, and you jump, your elbow jabbing into his side. He scowls, swatting your hand away. "What? It's not like the two of you are exclusive." "Who isn't exclusive?"

You peek through your fingers, seeing the very same mop of shaggy brown hair now slicked back and dripping onto the break room floor. Pursing your lips, you ignore the way Joshua smiles inwardly before taking a sip of his drink, taking the initiative to say something as said mop of shaggy brown hair shakes and sprays onto Soonyoung – who squeals like he's never been wet a day in his life. "What are you doing here? This is for employees only, you need to leave." "Ooh, what's with the attitude? Clerical Barbie takes over as Lifeguard Barbie and suddenly she loses that customer service voice?"

Seungcheol's brows jump as he pops the cap off a bottle of Topo Chico, and you feel a surge of annoyance flood your stomach as Joshua shakes his head. "Knock it off, Cheol."

He shrugs, strolling around the counter against the counter where you and Mingyu are sitting. You feel your jaw tight as you lean back in your chair, watching him bump his hip to a smiling Mingyu's. You give Joshua a hard look, who only shakes his head as you speak loudly.

"You're not allowed in here, Choi." "Are you going to remove me from the premises? Is that part of your job description, roughing me up a little bit?" 

You glare at Seungcheol, who only winks. You manage to hear how Soonyoung bites back his laugh, opting to turn around and face the open fridge and crossing his arms on his chest. Seungcheol sips his drink, pouty lips slightly glistening before you look away.

Mingyu groans, "I don't want to hear this. You're fighting a losing battle over someone you're not friends with anymore, Y/N. You're friends with Soonyoung and he's a bigger slut than Cheol." "Mingyu has a point." Joshua agrees quietly, before an offended scoff fills the air as Mingyu slides out the break room door. "I am not a slut! Why are you slut shaming me?" Soonyoung slams the fridge shut, and you scoff.

"You also slept with Jaehee! Don't think I forgot, I'm still mad that you cleaned up with my shirt! My shirt, Soonyoung!" "She told me you'd be out! I wasn't going to stop mid-stroke because–"

You only raise your hand, cutting him off before you wave it. He tongues his cheek, silently turning his nose up at you as he slips out of the breakroom.  Joshua sighs, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples as he speaks. 

"You have thirty minutes left of your break. Seungkwan is at your station until that's up, and then I need you to be present. Please." Joshua pleads, before reaching for the containers on the table and carefully packing them up. "I know you don't want to be here, but it's really not the end of the world. And…" You let your eyes flicker up to him, his own pointed and stern. "You are to treat everyone like a visitor. You're to be nice, to be helpful and this…" He gestures between you and Seungcheol. "This? This is stupid. You run in the same circles, you work here and he's a regular. Respectfully, Seungcheol is literally just a whore. I know you're loyal, I know you care…but Jaehee and Cheol are a thing of the past. They've moved on."

Your cheeks grow hot and you don't bother to say anything back, feeling the room fill with tension thicker than the caramel on the sundaes at the Cabana. Joshua gives you a soft look, a gentle smile on his lips before he turns and slides the containers into the fridge.

"Thirty minutes, Barbie."

You nod silently, picking at your nails as Joshua slips out the door. Seungcheol hums from two feet away, and you feel your jaw tight as he slides over a minuscule amount.

"I don't bite." "Have you ever heard the saying: if you run with dogs, you'll get fleas?" You slide off the chair, pushing your hair out of your face. He doesn't reply, only running his eyes over you as you walk towards him. You stop right behind him, your arm brushing the wet compression shirt on his back.

"It doesn't have to be about Jaehee. It doesn't have to be about any of the girls who would talk about you at my sorority parties and the games you would play. At the end of the day, the common denominator is you." He turns around, his nose nearly brushing yours from how close he is. You can smell the chlorine mixed with sunscreen and a hint of something sultry, something that would make you weak in the knees if it weren't for the odd animosity brewing in your belly.

"What are you trying to say? That I can't have fun?" You furrow your brow, "That you're a dog, Seungcheol. And all dogs…they bite."

His eyes flicker around your face, before leaning even closer to you. His lips almost brush yours, the glitter of your lipgloss nearly the only barrier between your lips and his. Something inside you makes you angrily attracted to the proximity, and you force yourself to keep your gaze frozen in place. "Trust me when I say this, yeah?" He nods, your eyes only narrowing. "I don't bite, but you'd love it if I did, sweetheart. The high horse isn't too good of a thing to ride, you know; there are better things."

You feel your chest hot as he moves back, the insinuation of him being the better option trying to force itself into your brain. A ring clinks against the bottle as his fingers circling the spout of his drink as he moves away. Scoffing, you roll your eyes, moving to walk away when you hear his voice in your ear. "Nice swimsuit, by the way." "Fuck off."

"YOU CAN'T BE FUCKING SERIOUS."

It's been two weeks since you started working at the waterpark. You pulled it out of Joshua that he did, in fact, sleep with Jaehee after graduation and that's how he knows she's fine. You don't particularly care, either, because you're still leeching onto it as your reason to hate Seungcheol – for lack of better reasons. 

As for the waterpark, things are incredibly easy; it's become even easier to sneak spiked Tiger's Blood snow cones and jalapeño margaritas from Cabana Boy Chan – he's cute and you had been determined to land a date with him by the end of the summer. 

Emphasis on had been.

You were all smiles and twirling your hair, making him laugh shyly and dig his chin into his chest. Winks, subtly flirty comments, anything and everything – and he couldn't help but let his cheeks flush something awful, his words stuttered out as you bit your lip and pushed your chest out. He couldn't hide any of his reactions, especially not the way his eyes followed the movement of your tongue when you licked the spiced rim of a jalapeño-mango margarita after hours.

All good things end, though – because Chan hasn't been able to look you in the eye for the past weekend. He kept his head down while making your drinks, apologizing quickly if he moved too fast and your drinks sloshed over the edge of the cups he served them in. Cheeks still red as ever, eyes still shy and roaming – but not a laugh, not a coherent conversation.

Why? Seungcheol.

He'd been making your days a living hell. From requesting a towel or sunscreen every time he saw you – meaning you'd have to trek the entire park to get them for him – to openly flirting with the mothers and students that hung around the park, he was a constant in your newfound day-to-day life. He never directly bothered you, he made it a point to only mildly inconvenience you – but it's much, much easier (and convenient) to say that he was ruining your life by merely existing in your perimeter. Joshua was starting to get sick of your complaining, but couldn’t really do anything because you were still doing your job, exactly as he’d asked.

However – you were not blind. At times like this, at these truly, incredibly trying times: you wished you were – just for Seungcheol. To have him become a blur of a being that crossed your path, maybe even mistaken for those floaters that your optometrist always talked about; would be a blessing in and of itself.

Because unfortunately for you, Lifeguard Barbie, Seungcheol is hot. He's stupidly hot, all broad shoulders and thick thighs and the longest lashes you'd ever seen. The brows and the lips and the arms, Christ, he's a walking wet dream and you hate it. You hate it like you've never hated anything before and for that very reason, you kept each and every forced interaction short and dull.

Until he noticed, and you know he noticed, that you flirted with Chan every chance you got. He saw the way Chan tried to hide his blushing cheeks, your teasing smile that dropped every time Seungcheol neared the Cabana; replaced with a pursed lip as Chan slipped away to take his order. He noticed the way you smiled softly at Chan (and everyone that wasn’t him) and he felt a weird pang in his chest every time – not that you knew about that, though. 

Nor did you have to.

After the realization settled in his mind, he kept you longer. Kept running his eyes over you just to see you bristle, kept talking about your swimsuit fitting you just right – even went as far as snapping the strap against your shoulder in passing, just to piss you off. He liked to rile you up, saying flirty things that made your cheeks hot and thoroughly enjoying the way you clenched your fists at your sides as you feigned interest in his needs as a customer at the park. It felt so stupid, and so derivative of the idiotic theory that boys are mean to girls when they like them – it's simply not true.

Despite not getting a word out of Chan unless it was a muttered apology for the weekend, you managed to ease your way back into his brain and ask him what the problem was just as he announced last call. He avoided your eyes, often looking over your shoulders and keeping his lips pursed until you jutted your lip out in a pout and made your way behind the bar. You kept your arms crossed, pressed tight against your chest as he tried to explain through stammered sentences before he just blurted it out.

"Listen, you're great, okay? You're so funny and smart but I can't…we can't do this, Y/N. You have a boyfriend, and I just got out of a relationship...it's not going to work." Chan had rubbed his hands over his face at that moment, your eyes widening at the wild accusation slipping from his mouth. "You…you're so hot, please don't think I didn't–" "Chan…I don't have a boyfriend. Joshua is my roommate." You tried, but his brow furrowed. "No…I'm not talking about Shua. You guys live together? Isn't that weird?" He tilted his head, making you facepalm as he scrambled to correct himself. "I mean, that's not…I'm talking about Seungcheol. He said you two were a thing. Aren't you?" You froze then, your shoulders tensing under the moonlight as you tried to process what he had said. You glanced up at him, your brows knitted in the middle as you asked him to repeat himself.

"What?" "Seungcheol, the Hot Springs regular. He said the two of you have been dating for a few months." You choked on your spit at that, before looking across the park and seeing said stupid, idiotic, sexy Hot Springs regular having a casual conversation with Mingyu. The moonlight bounces off the water, the park nearly empty aside from a few tipsy students enjoying the lazy river under Soonyoung's supervision. Seungcheol was nodding along to whatever Mingyu was saying, before he suddenly tensed and looked over his shoulder – locking eyes with you. And that led you here – telling Mingyu that Chan needed his help filling the Cabana stock and leaving you alone to grit your teeth at Seungcheol.

"Mmh, serious about what?" He plays stupid, eyes all wide and lips pouty and he is so fucking stupid. You scoffed, "You've seriously got some nerve to think I'd ever date you. The weight of the sheer audacity you carry around must be fucking with your brain, because you had no right to lie to Chan and tell him we're together." Seungcheol hums, taking a sip from the contraband beer bottle that wasn't allowed near the bodies of water. You reach down, snatching it from his hand and tossing it into one of the recycling bins haphazardly before putting your hands on your hips. His face is feigning boredom, but his eyes are teeming with mischief and excitement as you scowl.

"Go tell him that you lied!" "And have yet another competitor in the running for the fair maiden's hand? Oh, I'd rather die of listeria." He shrugs, and you crouch down with a look of disgust on your face. "You'll die by my fucking hands if you don't make this right. I don't even like you, much less do I need you meddling where you don't belong." "With your hands, huh? You'd just love to touch me, wouldn't you? Look at you, lean a little more and you'd be on your knees for me." He rolls his eyes, and you clench your fist at your side so as to not smack him upside the head. "Just relax, sweetheart. He's not all sunshine and rainbows, anyway. The kid just got his heart broken, it wouldn't end well." "I think I deserve to find that out on my own!" "And I think you need someone who can handle all this lip you like to dish out. Chan is just too sweet, you'd bulldoze him."

"What, like you could? Please, try stand-up in your next life, not this one." You roll your eyes, and he leans over the edge of the hot spring with yet another bored look on his face.

"Are you done whining? Because I'm trying to relax." "Relax when you're dead, I'm trying to score and you're blocking my shot! Chan is cute–" "So are you, even when you're doing all this talking." You scowl, opening your mouth to tell him off when he lifts himself against the edge of the hot spring. He's eye level with you now, and you try not to look down at the soft muscle of his chest bulging against his shirt as you scoot back.

"Chan is not what you need, Barbie. Sure, he's cute, he makes you your fun little drinks, he's a great guy. I know, I practically raised the kid." Seungcheol leans closer, and you make the mistake of letting your eyes dart to his arms. His fingers are wrapped around the edge of the hot spring, biceps flexed as he holds himself up to you. He doesn’t speak until you force your eyes back up to his, the scowl on your lip only growing deeper as he smirks.

“You made all your assumptions about me around my hookups in college. Whatever they said is law, isn't it? Let’s not forget that you know nothing else about me, and you treat me like you hate me because of someone who isn't even in your life anymore. You could be on fire and Jaehee wouldn’t cross the street to piss on you, sweetheart.”

"And what, you would?” You mutter, and he actually laughs. The bastard chuckles like something is funny and it only makes your skin prickle.

“If that’s what you’re into—” “Fuck all the way off, would you? You think you’re hot shit and everyone wants you, well I don’t. What I want—”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, because Seungcheol catches your arm and yanks you into the hot spring in one swift move. You can feel rage bubbling in your throat as you swipe water off your face, seeing him resting his cheek on the heel of his palm.

“Slipped?” “I fucking hate you.” “Why?”

You don’t answer him, grimacing as you push your hair off your face. He swims closer, cornering you slightly. “Why, princess?”

“Don’t call me that. You’re a jerk, Seungcheol.”

“Am I a jerk because you hold onto battles that aren’t yours to fight or because I actually did something to hurt you? Because last I checked, we’ve spoken a total of zero times before you started working here, so it can’t possibly be the latter. Give me a good reason as to why you dislike me, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“I don’t need to explain shit to you. You’re purposely ruining my chances with Chan because you’re a dick. You call me Lifeguard Barbie, you make comments about my swimsuit—”

“You call me a whore because I slept around in college. If you took the time to talk to me and get to know me, you could have actual ammo to shoot at me. But everything is girl code this, girl code that, right?”

He’s too close for your senses to process, your stomach fluttering as you instinctively push a hand into his clothed chest. 

“Back up.” His eyes glance down to your fingers splayed on his shirt, before flickering back up to your face.

"Name one thing you know about me besides the fact that I slept with Jaehee." "That you dumped her." "Wrong. She dumped me." You try not to react as you push your palm into the stone of a man. He doesn't budge, eyes searching your face before your fingers hover over his nipple with the intent to twist it – his fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling it away.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you. You could start something you know you can't finish." His voice is significantly lower, before letting your hand drop to your side. It splashes in the water, and you feel pathetically small as he towers over you. "Not everyone is who they were in college. Just because you might've peaked there, doesn't mean all of us did."

You feel a pang in your chest, your throat tightening slightly as you peer up at him through your lashes. He tilts his head, eyes soft as he speaks. 

“You might not like me now, but you didn't give me a chance to begin with. Just let me know if you need someone to take care of you, hm?”

"You two better not start making out, Y/N is on the clock." Joshua's voice rings in your ears, and you feel your limbs fill with gratitude as you scowl. "As if."

Seungcheol lets you push him out of the way, not bothering to watch you pull yourself out of the hot spring as he strikes up a conversation with your roommate. "Are we still having a bonfire for Junhui this year? I managed to get his birthday weekend off, my coworkers are pissed." Joshua laughs that genuine laugh that you'd found comforting for so many years. You squeeze your hair out, fury still lingering in your throat with just a hint of hurt. Something felt weird in your chest, like the acknowledgement of you even existing in college and all the things that happened then makes your heart ache.

You'd agreed to host Junhui's birthday weekend at the cabin your grandfather left you in his will. He'd been there, still; when your parents made it a point to stretch the family ties so thin, even a gust of wind would tear through them and end them forever. You visited him often, going home with Joshua in tow with crates of fruit and cuts of meat he'd get up to grill on wobbly legs. He taught Joshua lots of things, but taught you the most valuable of all – your heart is to be guarded, but not to be solid.

To love and let love, lightly and deeply. To gather affection, to spread it, to be soft and understanding. To be complicit in the bettering of the world, and soften those who have become solid – while not understanding it to the point of solidifying yourself.

To listen, and give the benefit of the doubt.

You feel your heart sink as you walk past Joshua and Seungcheol without a word, not bothering to turn around when you hear Joshua calling after you – when you hear the announcement that the park was closing in five minutes. You beeline for your station, pulling a trash bag out from under your chair and silently moving around the park; picking up half-empty tanning lotions, mini sunscreen bottles, empty snow cone cups while you think about the fact that Junhui's birthday is in two weeks and you're going to have to house thirteen men once Jeonghan gets back.

Which (unfortunately) doesn't include girlfriends aside from Junhui and Minghao, because all your friends are bitchless. 

The night ends without you reporting back to Chan, your arms crossed on your chest as you walk into the parking lot silently. You see Joshua and Seungcheol still talking, both men leaned against the back of Joshua's car. Joshua is twirling his keys in his hand, a move you stop by taking them out and sliding into the driver's seat without a word. You rest your head against the seat, sighing before you hear Joshua's voice cut through the slightly rolled window.

"What did you say to her? She's never that quiet. I swear to God–" "Relax, I didn't say anything that didn't need to be said. She wants to believe that I'm the big bad wolf, when you and I both know Jaehee dumped me because she didn't want to be with someone on the soccer team after she dated Brian. Jaehee herself said it would look bad, I was crushed but of course, Y/N doesn't know that. And she doesn't need to know."

Your name sounds so foreign on his lips…but it sounds sweet. Like a cold drink after a long day…like he liked the taste of it on his tongue.

And you think about those words as Joshua makes you move to the passenger seat and drives the two of you home. You remain silent, staring out the window, eventually mumbling something about a shower and finding refuge under scalding hot water and minty shampoo. You find yourself in bed before the clock even hits eleven, your arm draped across your eyes – and you can't sleep.

Unfortunately, the flame of shame due to hating someone that you hardly know over someone you used to know is starting to lick up your back. Someone that has been vouched for over and over again by several people…and they can't all be wrong. 

"Merry Christmas." You look up from your pillow to see Joshua toss the same pink vibrator on your bed with a soft smile. He holds up a paper check in his hand, and you just shake your head as you pull your covers higher. You sigh, before feeling the bed dip and Joshua's aftershave fills your nose.

"What's eating you, hm?" "You know what." He scoots closer, his fingers swiping stray curls out of your face as he hums. "He's not a bad guy. I have never steered you wrong, have I?" "You've steered me into your bed a couple times." "The first time was in your bed." "Same difference." He snorts, holding himself up on his elbow as you chew on your cheek. You let out a breath, closing your eyes as you rub a hand over your face. He nudges you, a sigh slipping from your mouth.

"I know he's not a bad guy. Somewhere…deep down, I understand." "Then?" "He's still a guy who slept around, and with a lot of my friends. I've heard more about his stroke game than about him as a person." "So the objectification of Choi Seungcheol is going to be your demise?" Joshua jests, making you snort as you shake your head. "I…You remember my old man? When he would start a fire in the pit and we'd all sit around with beer and he'd make us split one because we weren't supposed to be drinking it anyway?" You smile fondly at the memory, glancing up at Joshua to see him doing the same thing.

"Yeah." "And you remember what he said to me? Every time you and I would get into a weird scuffle or something?" He nods again, "Your heart is to be guarded, but not to be solid. I still think about it sometimes." "I don't like Seungcheol. He's…arrogant." "He's not. He's confident, but even the mighty fall." You shake your head, "Maybe I was wrong to hate him from the start, but he's only proven I was right to do so. You know he told Chan that he and I are dating? I was so close to hitting that, Shua. So close!" "Chan just got out of a relationship, and you know how you are. You'd want more, and he wouldn't be able to give you that." Joshua laments, patting your shoulder as you pout.

You think about how you’ve never wanted more with Joshua for a split second, before an odd feeling of guilt settles in your lower belly. "Yeah, but it still would've been good." "I don't want to think about that, Y/N." He snorts, and  you let out a weak laugh as you shake your head again. "I don't want him at the cabin, Shua. I know he's…I know you guys are friends, and I know Junhui is flying in for this but I just…I can't shake the feeling that something might happen." He sits up, brow furrowed. "Something might happen? Like what?" You wince, gazing up at him meekly. "I throw a piece of lit firewood at him?" He bites back his smile, hovering over you. "You're not going to do that. You're too nice." "Are you saying I'm all bark? Because I'll have you know–" "Oh, I know you can bite, trust me." You don't like the glint in his eye, scowling as he snickers. "But you know better, and you'll behave yourself because Junhui is flying in to celebrate with us when he could very well stay home. This is important to all of us, and you're going to be a gracious host. Stuff him full of those jalapeño poppers you make and everything will be fine."

He pats your head, "And if anything, I'll be there. You know I've got you."

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your hairline before pulling your duvet backup over your shoulders. "Get some rest, okay? Stop worrying about Seungcheol, any more thoughts about him and you might start liking him." "As if."

Joshua quirks a brow, "We both know he's exactly your type. All big arms and thick thighs and he can put you in your place." You scoff, sitting up on your elbows, the strap of your tank top falling down your shoulder. "He is not my type! My type is nice boys who blush when I flirt with them and Chan giggles, Shua! He giggles and now I can't fuck him because I refuse to be a man’s rebound!" You groan as you fall back on your pillows, only hearing Joshua laugh as he slides off your bed. He grabs your foot over the blanket, nearly cackling as you jerk it out of his hold.

"You'll live, Y/N. And remember," He grabs the pink vibrator from where it landed between your legs. "No more of this nonsense. Sixty. Dollars. Set them aside, take them out of the bank, but you're paying that bill." "Ooh, don't arrest me officer. I might like the cuffs." Your voice is full of sarcasm as you move to take it from him, his hand catching your wrist. You raise a brow, only for him to give you a pointed look. You roll your eyes, biting back a smirk as you speak. 

"Alright, alright! I'll just use your money, instead." "Like hell you will, I already pay your student loans." He snorts, letting you go and holding the toy out. You take it, shoving it under your pillow as you snicker. "And I am ever so grateful, my wonderful provider. You're such a man, rawr." "You're something else." He rolls his eyes, turning on his heel. “I have the weekend off to start prepping things for the party, so please be civil if you bump into Seungcheol.”

You sigh, bringing your duvet to your chin and turning on your side.

“Goodnight, Shua.” “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Joshua wasn’t lying — he was ‘out of office’ on Friday and Saturday. You had a closing shift on Sunday, so you managed to snag a few episodes of Gossip Girl with him before he made you write down everything that would be needed for the party. Not a peep from Seungcheol, just a grim nod that made you wonder if Joshua had said something to him – and you noticed he arrived only moments after you clocked in.

Almost like he knew your schedule.

“Do not drink, I’m not sure how late I’ll be and I don’t want you driving tipsy.” Joshua had been stern earlier that afternoon, holding your keys high above your head as you tied your coverup around your hips. He handed your keys over, hopping back into his car with a Costco-stock of beer and liquor before pulling out of the parking lot with a soft wave.

And now, you are here. Twenty minutes to closing, not a single interaction with Seungcheol tonight aside from checking him in. You had a bit of a scuffle with a group of friends from the local college, but you easily stood your ground and kicked them out of the park. Aside from that, you had no distractions and you were not flirting with Chan. It seems as though the universe made the decision for you, and all suggestive comments and blushy cheeks went out the window; replaced with Chan mentioning Junhui’s party after you asked if he would be busy that weekend.

“You know Junhui, too?” “You’re not serious, Y/N.”

As it turns out: Seungcheol is not the only person you were unaware of in your friend group, though he had a deeper connection through Jeonghan and Joshua. Chan was apparently a floater — sometimes too busy for the gathered group activities but still an integral and valued part of the friendship. You were just too in your own head half the time to notice, and the other half you spent shotgunning beers with Mingyu.

You told Chan about the plan to host at the cabin, and that you’d come by in a few days with the address and any final requests for food and drinks. You talked until he closed the Cabana, before bidding him a good night and strolling through the park with your hands behind your back. It was empty for five minutes before you reached the Hot Springs, seeing Seungcheol with a grimace on his face as he eased out of the water.

You stopped, feeling his name heavy on your tongue before you cleared your throat – but he beat you to it.

"You here to save me, princess?" “Here to tell you the park's closed, dipshit. Gotta go, Choi.”

He only smirks, leaning back on his hands. The moonlight shines on the pale skin of his thighs and arms, still dripping with water. You wonder how he doesn’t prune up — but it’s Choi Seungcheol. He probably made some deal with the devil to remain perfect forever.

“Five minutes.” You call over your shoulder as you continue your stroll through the section, peeking around every wall and even circling the lazy river twice in case there’s some odd couple making out under the Lover’s Bridge in the corner. You make your way back to the Hot Springs, seeing Seungcheol has disappeared.

A bit of disappointment fills your chest, but you continue on your way back to the entrance of the section and slip out, making your way to the office. You grab your bag, pulling a pair of shorts over your waist and ditching the coverup into the depths of your bag. You fumble with your keys, checking the logs to make sure everyone’s signed out before doing the same thing yourself.

You murmur soft goodbyes to the custodians that you pass while making your way towards the parking lot, swinging your keys around your finger as you slide out from behind the gate. There are only two other cars in the lot aside from yours — a white pick-up truck that’s way too lifted for a city car with two guys lounging in the bed, parked right in front of the water park. There is a sleek black car parked a few spots from your little Volkswagen, someone leaning against the passenger side and facing into the empty parking lot. You make it a point not to make eye contact with the pair who are smoking cigarettes on the truck. Your car is only a two or three minute walk, and you keep your eyes forward.

However, the sound of their lighters flickering isn’t enough to distract them as you make your way past their truck. A whistle is heard, and you see the person leaning against their car flinch slightly before a slurred voice rings out.

“Hey, pretty girl. Can I get your number?”

Your shoulders tense, but you don’t look back as you tighten your hand around your keys. Silence fills the air before you hear feet hit the ground. You feel your legs move slightly faster, before the person leaning against the black car turns around and locks eyes with you.

Seungcheol.

“I said hello.” “I have a boyfriend. Leave me alone.”

You’re lying. You’re lying like a fucking dog and you're sure he can tell by the tremble in your voice; but it doesn’t matter because Seungcheol’s eyes narrow slightly as he pushes off the side of the car. His hands are tucked inside the pocket of his sweatshirt, and he rounds the front of the car. He walks towards you, his jaw tight as he keeps his eyes trained on whichever of the men decided to trail behind you. You practically run to him, your hand instinctively gripping the front of his sweatshirt as his arm wraps around your shoulders.

You appreciate the way a feeling of security blankets over you, his fingers brushing your neck as he nestles his hand across the back of it. He pulls you close, the footsteps that had been behind you stopping. You hear his tongue click above you, before he speaks..

"Juwon? Cha Juwon?" Juwon makes a sound of confusion, "How do you know my name?" You glance up to see Seungcheol's eyebrows furrow, "Because I know your father. I also know you play soccer for Yonsei and you got a full scholarship to their engineering program. What the fuck do you think you're doing? Do you think the committee would be happy to know you're being a fucking creep?"

You peer at Juwon, his eyes wide as he takes a step back. "I don't want any problems–" "It's a little late for that, don't you think? You can kiss your scholarship goodbye. Stop being a fucking loser that makes girls uncomfortable and can't take no for an answer. Get the hell out of here and don't come back." Seungcheol barks, your fingers tightening on the material of his sweatshirt as the man's jaw drops. He quickly turns on his heel, sprinting back to the pick-up where his friend is staring open-mouthed. Juwon doesn't wait for the guy to get in the car, cranking the engine and speeding out of the parking lot as he manages to close the tailgate.

You watch in silence, before realizing how hot your face is. Clearing your throat, you awkwardly pat the spot on his sweatshirt that you'd been gripping and start to pull away.

"Are you okay?" He murmurs, his hand not moving from the back of your neck as he peers down at you. You shift, "Yeah. Fine, sorry." "You're not the one that should be sorry." He shakes his head. "Do you want me to tail you home? Just so I know you got in safe, because I know Shua's not home."

"How do you know that?" "He asked me to keep an eye out for you. I haven't left the park before you have until tonight."

He shrugs, and you feel a frown tug at your lips. "He's such a dad." "He cares. So…yes or no? Either way I'm gonna do it." He shrugs again, a small smile on his lips as you sigh. You nibble on your lip, before running a shaky hand over your face and nodding reluctantly. "Fine." "Or…I could just take you home. I'll have someone pick up your car, free of charge." There's a lilt to his voice, and you tongue your cheek. "We can drive around or something while you wait for Shua to get home. I'll feel better about it, and I'll know you're safe." "Why are you being nice to me? We're not friends." You mutter, looking at the ground. He hums, his shoe nudging the toe of your sandals making you look up. "I don't think you understand that you're the only one with a problem. I have no issue with you, much less do I focus on any of the negative things I've heard about you. So what if I was a slut in college? If you bothered to get to know me, you'd know I'm California Celibate." You snort, feeling the release of tension from your chest as you shake your head. "That's not a thing, and that doesn't make it any better." "It is so a thing! And there's no way it doesn't make it better, especially if that's your main issue with me." He tilts his head, eyeing your face gently. "I know you can't really be that mad that I slept with Jaehee. There has to be something deeper." "Like you ruining my chances with Chan?" "Like me bugging the shit out of you because you're cute when you're angry." You scowl, hating the way your stomach flutters as he smiles widely. "Come on. And then you can actually get to know me, instead of basing all your feelings about me on a failed relationship from college." He doesn't give you a chance to refute it, because some glint in his eye makes your face grow hot as you cross your arms on your chest. "That sounds a lot like a date." "If it were a date…you don't seem like you'd be too opposed." He chides over his shoulder, and you're foolishly following behind him. You frown, and he only shakes his head as he rounds the front of his car once more, opening the passenger side swiftly. Of course – of course Choi Seungcheol is a fucking gentleman.

"I am opposed." You grumble, before slipping into the seat. The car smells so nice – hints of patchouli and bergamot and the sweetness of pineapple. You reach to close the door, only to be stopped by Seungcheol's hand on the outside handle. He peers down at you, before crouching down to meet your eyes.

"I can change that." "I have a boyfriend."

"Yeah, me, apparently." He smirks, before standing up right and closing the door gently. You run your fingers through your hair, closing your eyes as you lean your head back on the seat. He gets in the car quietly, shoving his keys into the ignition and turning the engine over before you open your eyes.

"Why'd you even start working at the park? Joshua always said you'd never work here." He asks softly as he makes a quick turn out of the parking lot, and you sigh. "You can't laugh if I tell you." "You can always lie, because I can't promise you I won't laugh." He jests, making you snort as you tiredly cross your legs at the knee. "I got let go from my job, the clerical one. He wasn't upset, Shua, but I was. And then we had somewhat of a fight because I forgot to pay the light bill in favor of buying myself a little something." You shrug, and he rolls to a stop at a red light. "A little something?" You give him a pointed look through tired eyes, "A big something. Hot pink, battery powered with sixteen settings that make you see stars and suddenly everything is okay in the world. Melatonin with a twist, I'd say." He bites his lip, his eyes crinkling at the corner as he looks away. You snicker to yourself, shaking your head as you look out the windshield. The sky is clear, the moonlight very bright through the dense trees that line the road leading back to the inner city. "What is California Celibate?" You ask suddenly, tilting your head to look at him as he tongues his cheek. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, before shrugging.

"It means I only do what I like." "Oh, so you're just annoying by choice. Got it." He chuckles softly as you roll your eyes. "Casual sex just isn't my thing; it wasn't even in college. It's just…the general foreplay. I like the build up, oral and whatnot. Kissing is fun, too." "Oh, you're such a whore." "Mmh, I like it when you talk dirty. But, I haven't slept with anyone since before I went to nationals and got hurt. I just…stopped, I didn't have the energy to do anything. Much less have sex that made me feel…used." You don't let him see the way your eyes widen. You make an exaggerated gagging sound as he snickers, his fingers flicking his turn signal.

The drive is quiet for a little while, the road winding as he takes you through the wooded area you'd grown up in. You don't mind it, the map on his dashboard GPS still showing your house as the destination no matter the turns you take.

"I'm sorry about your hip, by the way." You speak up, and he shrugs. "Thanks. It's just life, though. It took a lot for me to get over it, but I could either wallow in the resentment or get off my ass and do something with my life. I chose the latter." "Mmh. What are you doing now? What did you major in?" "I'm in grad school currently, and I'm working at a massage spa for the time being. I'm trying to open a business in the future, I think I'd do well in sports therapy and shit like that. I want to work with athletes who have the same situation as me. I don't want to get sappy but it's one of the harshest realities that can hit someone who thinks their life is set in stone, you know?" You feel your heart warm a bit, and you can't bite back your smile as you cover it with your hand. He glances at you, brow raised. "What?" "Nothing. That's nice." He brakes gently, pulling over before putting the car in park. "Tell me."

"It's just cute. To see you care, I guess. Having fuckboy tendencies and a big heart sounds kind of like it's out of a movie. It's not real." He tilts his head, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. "Cute?" "Don't let it get to your head." You warn, running your hands up and down your arms. His eyes follow the movement, before he unbuckles his seatbelt and pulls his sweatshirt over his head. He holds it out to you, and you shake your head. "I'm fine." He silently presses the button to release your seatbelt, making you huff as you take the sweatshirt and tug it over your head. "It's gonna smell like chlorine." "Washing machines exist." "So does turning the heat on." "But you'd look so pretty in my clothes, sweetheart." You tongue your cheek as he winks, leaning back into his seat and buckling himself in. He moves to fiddle with the shift gear, before pausing and looking back at you.

"Would it make you more comfortable if I wasn't at Junhui's birthday celebration next weekend?" Your eyes widen, "Did Joshua say something to you?"  He shrugs, tonguing his cheek. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, especially in a place you've grown up in and have good memories in. I'd hate to sully that for you, if–" "Oh, I'm sorry." You interrupt, rubbing at your face haphazardly. "I'm just in my own head sometimes. I was telling Joshua that I was worried about it because I…" His eyes are soft as he searches your face. "Because you…what?" "I don't like being wrong." You mumble, picking at your nails. "I hate being wrong, actually. So much so that I've had arguments with Shua that last weeks so I don't have to apologize. And if you went, and I saw that everyone vouched for you the way Shua and Jeonghan do, I'd have to give you a chance. I'd have to admit that I jumped the gun, and it's just not something I'm good at. Especially not in front of Shua, because…well, he's Shua." He twists in his seat, "What if you apologize now? Just you and me." You roll your eyes, "What, and you won't tell anyone? I'm not five, Seungcheol." "Cheol." "What?" "Call me Cheol. Seungcheol feels too…formal. Choi Seungcheol, too. Don't like it."

"Anything else, Your Highness?" You scoff, and he smiles as he leans over the center console. "I mean, I'm partial to baby. Honey, even, if you're feeling nasty."

You roll your eyes, looking at him with a brow raised. He returns the look, shamelessly looking at your lips before tilting his head. "What's going on with you and Joshua?" "Nothing." Your answer comes out too fast, and it makes him smile. "Nothing? Or nothing you want to admit to?" "I have nothing to admit to. The guy is my roommate, he pays my bills and signs a fat check for my student loans because he loves me. That's my guy." You shrug, feigning nonchalance as he leans slightly closer, his cologne filling your nose slightly. Same patchouli…same bergamot and sweet, sweet pineapple. He doesn't look like he believes you, and you sigh. "Just ask. Go on." "You haven't slept with him?" "I have." "How many times?"

"I'll answer your question with another one. Why does it matter?" You lean into him, and he shrugs. "It doesn't. Just curious." "Mmh." You hum, your cheeks growing hot as his tongue swipes over his lips again, his eyes trained on the soft pout on yours. "Do you want to kiss me or something?" He smiles, "Depends on if you'd kiss me back." "No." He immediately feigns disgust, turning his nose up, "Ew, who would ever kiss you? That's so gross, and you smell like chlorine. I bet you don't even know how to kiss!"

You gape, a laugh bubbling from the back of your throat as you cover your mouth to muffle the sound. Your shoulders shake as you hold the laughter in, only to look over and see him smiling, almost fondly.

"But I could teach you."

"Like hell you will. Take me home." You manage to spit out, his face contorting into one of disappointment as he scoffs. "You could take me to dinner first, you know. I'm not just a good fuck–" "To my house! I'm sure Shua is home and I have to be up early for my shift." You huff, fanning at your face with your hands as he puts the car in drive with a grin. You wipe at your eyes as he pulls back onto the road, a soft blush on his cheeks as he follows the GPS to a T. It's silent, but it's comfortable – even as you make it to the apartment in twenty minutes to see Joshua still hasn't arrived.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, turning to face him.

"I'm sorry for making assumptions about you and being a jerk. It was unfair of me." You admit softly, and he only shakes his head. "It is what it is. You had your reasons." "They weren't very justifiable reasons, I think. Either way, I'm sorry." "Mmh. Do you want me to wait? I don't like the idea of you being here alone." "Nothing's going to happen to me, you know. I know how to defend myself, but I'll stay for the sake of your sanity." You roll your eyes, and he smiles softly. "I'm sure you do, princess. Thank you for being so considerate." You scoff, "I do! And for the record, I'm an excellent kisser. I don't need you to teach me shit."

The smirk on his lips makes your cheeks warm as he shakes his head.

"Mhm." The car is quiet, your head leaned against the seat before you turn to him. He's staring at the front door, almost as though he's expecting someone to walk through it.

"Is Jaehee the reason you started sleeping around in college? To mend your broken heart and whatnot?" He doesn't stiffen, or seem bothered as he turns to look at you. His eyes are conflicted, and he shrugs.

"I was sleeping around before Jaehee. All the newfound freedom being away from home paired with the fact that some sorority girls really, really like athletes…it got to my head. I got ahead of myself, and I wasn't really looking for a relationship. Jaehee was, but she realized it wasn't the best idea to keep dating within a certain circle. That was the end of it." You nod, clasping your hands in your lap. "I wonder what that's like." "What?" "Sleeping around. Does it make you feel…I don't know, icky? Used, like you said?" "It did. I mean, I was in the mindset of just needing that rush of recklessness, I guess. But the sweat dries, and you still feel like shit after." He nods, tonguing his cheek. "You…dated Wonpil, right? On the baseball team?"

You nod, a soft frown donned on your lips as you scrunch your nose at him. "For three years. Two in college and one after. We broke up for a multitude of reasons, but life goes on and you find other things to worry about, and I missed the freedom I had before we got together. I spent so much time just hanging around and going to movies, to concerts, I even worked at a fried chicken place with Soonyoung and gorged myself on biscuits. In a relationship…you have to answer to somebody and it takes a lot of your time." "Isn't that the best part of it all, though? Spending time with someone you know cares?" "I have friends who care, and I spend my time with them." "What about your family?" You stiffen slightly, your jaw tight as you clear your throat. "I uh…I don't talk to them. Haven't since after high school graduation." "I'm sorry."

You just shake your head, shrugging before turning in your seat. "It's just a sore subject, not your fault. I think…I'm gonna head inside now. I'm sure Shua will be home any minute and he'll start asking too many questions if he sees me get out of your car." He nods quickly, "Sure. Have a good night, I'll get your car here by morning." 

You smile, popping the door open slightly. You let it hang open, before leaning over the center console. "Thanks for helping me out back there, and for the ride…Cheol." He turns to face you, eyes widening a bit when he realizes how close you are but he doesn't back away. His smile is soft, glancing at your lips before he speaks. "Anytime."

"Goodnight." You mumble, pressing your lips to his cheek quickly before slipping out of the car and shutting the door. You don't look back, your cheeks hot as you fish your keys out of your bag with shaky hands and shove the house key into the lock.

The air in the apartment is cool – but it's not cool enough as you lock the door behind you and slide down it. You groan, gently banging the back of your head against the wooden door. You don't hear Seungcheol's car pull out of the lot, you're sure he's waiting for Joshua to arrive before he leaves.

You don't want to hear anything from the mouth of your roommate – so you push off the floor and beeline for your bathroom. You look at yourself in the mirror – before putting your head in your hands.

"So stupid."

"ARE YOU JUST GOING TO KEEP IGNORING ME?"

It's been four days since Seungcheol dropped you off at home – and you feel weird.

You can't focus for shit and your heart races a mile a minute every time you see him wink at you and you can't breathe if he's in the break room. Why the fuck is he even in the break room? Who let him in? How do you get him out? How do you get him in your bed? Stop.

"Mhm." You hum, nodding your head as you flip through yet another magazine. The sector was unusually empty for a Thursday night; but you were on break, laying out on the edge of the pool. Your foot was dipped into the water, swirling around as you used the magazine to block out the rearing moonlight – and he was oddly floating by your side, his crossed arms on the edge of the pool and nearly touching your arm. "Tch, that's too bad, princess. I would've asked you to get a drink with me." You try not to smile, cracking your gum as you flip onto the next page of your magazine, "I wouldn't get a drink with you if you were the President."

"I would hope you don't like wrinkly old men, but I digress. Come on, at least look at me."

You put the magazine on your chest with a groan, crossing your arms over your eyes before speaking.

"Seungcheol, if you're going to keep bothering me, you're going to have to get out and go to another pool." "Or, you could get in." "Seungcheol." "Come on, just a dip. We can talk, get better acquainted." He whines, and you snort. You lift your arm up, your heart catapulting it's way to your ass as you scoff. "I'd get better acquainted with a rock." 

"Jeonghan has a rock he keeps in his room. Says it's his pet."

"Ugh, Seungcheol." You groan, splaying your arms out as he chuckles. "Sound so pretty when you say my name, princess. Let me hear it again." You scowl, sitting up on your elbows. "You're fucking insufferable." He feigns offense, a hand on his chest as he turns his nose up. "I'd never make you suffer at my hands, pretty. Pleasure pool only."

You gape, before rolling your magazine up and smacking his shoulder with it. "Leave me alone! I'm supposed to be on a break from my grueling job and you're over here drooling like a dog. Go away!" "But I'll miss you when I'm gone." He sounds so pitiful, you almost believe it until you see the hint of a smirk on his lips. You hit him with the magazine again, before scrambling to your feet and huffing. "Leave me alone!"

His laughter fills your ears as you walk away, a whistle making you throw the magazine at him. You don't really mean it. You don't, and you hate that in less than a month, he managed to get under your skin and implant himself in your brain. You don't like the fact that you so willingly got into his car on Sunday night, you don't like the fact that he made you laugh so hard in his passenger seat, and you don't like that you let your intrusive thoughts let you plant a fat one on his cheek before you ultimately ran from the problem (him) and into the sanctity of your apartment where a certain battery powered object awaited you and your running mind.

Joshua had been in and out of the park for the last few days, and hadn't gotten a chance to catch you alone despite his pointed looks. He was the one who signed at the door when your car was delivered by whatever mystery tow company Seungcheol had, and he even called your phone twice before finding you passed out in your bedroom with your phone on the nightstand. You managed to slip out of the apartment before he could ask any questions since Monday, and you could tell he was growing frustrated as you spotted him across the park.

"Y/N!" His voice rang through the park just as you turned on your heel, eager to return to the odd solace of Seungcheol's teasing. You grimace, running a hand over your face as you turn to see him walking your way with a look on his face that says what has gotten into you?

And you don't know, but you certainly know what you'd like to get into you.

Stop it.

"Hey, Shua. What's up?" Your voice is tight, but the way he crosses his arms makes it seem like you're in trouble. "What's up? Is that really what you're leading with?" You clear your throat, "What are you talking about?"

He rolls his eyes, leaning closer, "You like Seungcheol." You gasp, "How dare you! I would never like a scum-sucking harlot like Choi Seungcheol." "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Barbie." You hear Seungcheol's voice near you, scowling as he winks before making his way past you to the cabana. You scrunch your nose at the deliciously broad expanse of his shoulders, before looking up at Joshua – who looks skeptical.

"Right…anyway. Junhui and Jeonghan are flying in tonight, and I'm leaving early to pick them up." He starts, and you watch the way he looks over his shoulder at the cabana. "You can…get a ride home, right? I mean…don't think I don't know that you hitched one with Cheol on Sunday." You groan, running your hand over your face. "I had no choice." "Your car was running perfectly fine when you went to work on Monday." "Maybe I got it fixed and that's why it got delivered." "Maybe our Ring camera showed the two of you sitting in front of our apartment for twenty minutes before you kissed his cheek." The Ring camera.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling your face grow hot in embarrassment as Joshua chuckled above you. "You like him." "I do not! I was merely apologizing for being a jerk, okay? God forbid a girl apologizes to her…to…you know what I mean!" "I don't believe I do, sweetheart. But, I'll leave you to it, and I expect you guys to be safe." "I am not going to fuck Choi Seungcheol, Joshua." You grumble, but the confidence in your voice is questionable as Joshua envelopes you into a soft embrace. You begrudgingly wrap your arms around his waist, "Drive safe." "I will. I'm really sorry to leave you like this, but at least now I know he'll get you home safe." He murmurs in your ear, before planting a kiss on the side of your head. "I'll see you at home, okay? I'll be late, so don't wait up." "Bye, Shua." You pull yourself from his arms, before feeling his hand pat your back as he skirts around you. You sigh, not managing to catch the way Seungcheol's eyes had narrowed at the prolonged contact between you and your roommate. Not that he cared, he didn't.

You spend the rest of your shift avoiding Seungcheol more, scrunching your nose at his winks and smirks and stupid fucking shoulders that you wanted to sink your teeth into.

You want to say you don't know where the 180° came from, but you do. You know that the jokes in his car, the soft discussion of what he wants for the future and what he aspires to inspire…the understanding that he was human, too…all of it. All of it contributed to the weird buzzing in your limbs when you caught a whiff of his cologne as he passed by or the way your shoulders tensed when you heard the lilt of flirting in his voice as he snuck up on you. 

It's only worsened by how well he fills out his stupid clothes, the material of his shirts straining against those arms that make you want to pass out. Your skin prickles when you hear the intercom crackle, announcing the park has officially closed just as you start making rounds to see if there are any stragglers. Your pace is quick, your feet bare against the hot cement and rounding corners with a speed only God could rival.

…Until you slam right into Seungcheol's chest.

"Shit, sorry–" "What are you running from?" 

He winces, rubbing the heel of his palm against his chest where your shoulder hit. You have a sheepish look on your face, "Sorry, I'm doing rounds." "I can tell. Warn a guy." "Well if you had left like everyone else did–" "You wouldn't have a ride home. Let's not play this game, beautiful."

You tongue your cheek, crossing your arms when you feel his fingers under your chin.

"Are you really going to ignore me like this? I thought we were forming a connection. You wound me, babe." "I am not your babe."

You swat his hand away, only for him to catch your wrist and pull you close. "You could be." You let out a noise of frustration, "If you're going to stop me from doing my job, I can't go home. If you really care, you'll go wait in the car." He smiles, your stomach fluttering like an idiot as he runs his eyes over your face. He tilts his head, his voice soft as his fingers loosen around your wrist. "What if I want to walk with you?"

"Seungcheol." "A little louder, princess." You smack his chest, "Get out! Let me do my job!" He laughs as he squeezes your wrist gently before dropping it. "I'll be at the gate." "Fine, whatever." You cross your arms as you skirt around him, your chest tightening as you realize that come tomorrow afternoon – you'd be stuck in a cabin with him and all your friends. Him, and his shoulders and his lips that are so plump and kissable and his stupid thighs that look like they could crush a watermelon–

"Stop it, Y/N. Jesus Christ, it's like you're a Victorian man." You mutter to yourself as you round the Lazy River, your eyes darting all over it. "Stupid man and his stupid…hot body and his dumb face and I hate him." The grumbling doesn't stop as you make your way into the office, grateful that today was a day you stayed out of the pool (aside from your leg) and you duck into one of the bathrooms to change into a t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts, nearly tripping as you tug a pair of underwear over your ankles. Your eyes fall on Seungcheol's sweatshirt at the bottom of your bag, and you tongue your cheek before pulling it out and tugging it over your head.

You clock out accordingly, making sure to greet the custodians as you walk by them, shoving your hands in the pocket of the sweatshirt when you hear soft whistling at the gate. Your eyes flicker up to see Seungcheol leaning against the brick wall, swinging his keys around his finger and typing a text with one hand. He shoots it off, tucking his phone into his pocket when you open the gate. "Who was that?" You ask abruptly, locking the gate behind you as he raises a brow.

"Who was who, babe?" "On your phone, and I'm not your babe." You turn back to see him smiling, running his tongue over his teeth as he shakes his head.

"No one, sweetheart." "Right…no one." You roll your eyes, crossing your arms on your chest as you start walking into the empty parking lot. His car is a few feet away, and you quickly make your way over to it when you feel your phone start buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out, seeing Joshua's contact flashing across the screen. You answer it, putting it on speaker and static noise fills the air.

"Yo." "Hey. Did you get a ride with Cheol like I said?" Seungcheol tilts his head at you as you lean against the hood of his car. You roll your eyes, "Yeah. He's standing right here, looking like an idiot as usual." Joshua's laughter is heard through the static of the call, "Be nice to him, he's doing you a favor. I just got to the airport, this place is fucking packed. I'll call you when I'm on the way home, okay?" "Yeah, Shua. I'll see you." "See you, sweetheart. Be nice!" You hang up, shoving your phone back into your pocket and looking to see Seungcheol's jaw a bit tight. You raise a brow, but don't manage to speak as he opens the door. "Hop to, princess. I've got to deliver you home before this carriage turns into a pumpkin." "Do you also turn back into a rat or is that just my wishful thinking?" He snorts, "Get in the car."

You smile inwardly as you do so, his hand softly shutting the door behind you. You watch as he rounds the front of the car, before slipping into the driver's side and cranking the ignition. His fingers fiddle with the dashboard, before you hear the click of the doors locking and his seatbelt being clicked in. Your eyes close as you lean back onto the headrest, crossing your legs at the knee.

You expect him to pull off, but you open one eye to see him fishing his phone out of his pocket. He tongues his cheek, reading something on the screen before turning it off and tossing it into his backseat. "What's that about?" "You really are the jealous type, huh? Cute." 

He smiles cheekily, pulling out of the parking lot as you frown. 

"I am not jealous of anything. I am…merely concerned." "Aw, you care about me, princess?"

His pout is mocking you as you scowl, "I cannot believe I'm going to be locked in the middle of the woods with you for the weekend. Junhui better appreciate the ground I walk on for the rest of his life." Seungcheol smiles softly, "It is very kind of you to put up with so many people for a weekend. Especially when a handful of them saw that nip slip last year." "Oh my God, they will not let that go. So what, I have nipples. Shua has literally…" You trail off, seeing his brows slightly furrowed as he flicks on his turn signal. You clear your throat, "They're just boobs. They act like we're virgins from the 18th century." "Mhm." He nods, tapping the gear shift at a random rhythm. You follow his fingers, only to see his other hand white-knuckling the bottom of the steering wheel. "What made you room with Joshua, anyway?"

You shrug, "He's all I have left, I guess. My family and I…are complicated, and Joshua helped me through all that. All our friends are still waiting for us to get together but it's literally never going to happen. Just because we slept together–" "Right, right." He interrupts, and you raise a brow. "Anyway, there is nothing romantic there. Shua's great and all but we both admit that desperate times called for desperate measures." "Mhm." His lips are pressed into a tight line as he turns into the same road lined with dense trees. You tilt your head, before leaning forward in your seat.

"Are you alright? You're gripping the wheel awfully tight." "Ah, sorry. Sometimes I don't notice."

He clears his throat, loosening his grip on the wheel. You lean back cautiously, before closing your eyes. The car is silent, before you hear the click of his tongue.

"If you have something to say–" "Are you sure there isn't anything romantic between the two of you? I mean, I wouldn't room with a girl and take care of her like Shua takes care of you unless I had feelings for her."

You try not to let a frown fight its way onto your lips, remembering Jeonghan's voice in your head.

"You guys need to stop sleeping together, eventually someone is going to come along and you'll have to explain that weird ass dynamic."

"Yeah, you have a point." "So?"

You feel the car jerk to a halt, before you notice you're now pulling over into the same spot from Sunday night. The trees hide the car perfectly but you still get a stream of moonlight, and he puts the car in park to face you, unbuckling his seatbelt. You do the same, before you let your tongue dart out to wet your lips and a sigh slips out.

"Shua is the only person I have that has seen me go through it all. He met my grandparents, he helps me out more than anyone ever has. He helps me just turn my brain off and not worry about anything. I appreciate him as a roommate, and a friend. There is nothing romantic, and it's only been three times that we've slept together. I don't think we'll sleep together again, it's going to be too hard to explain if anyone were to come along and want to be with either of us romantically. 'Hey, my best friend that lives with me, pays my student loans and all my bills also fucked me on the couch you're sitting on. Isn't that funny?'"

He nods, tonguing his cheek. His fingers trace the grooves in the gear shift, PRNDL.

"Why did you kiss me on Sunday?" "Lapse in judgment. Don't make it sound like we made out, you literally said I'd be a bad kisser." "You said you weren't."

He leans on the center console, chin in his hand as he peers up at you through his lashes. You don't like the way your throat feels dry at the pleading look, possibly intentional…possibly not.

You force a scoff, "Because I'm not."

He tilts his head, "How do you expect me to believe that without proof?" "You want me to prove to you that I'm not a bad kisser." "Mhm." "And you want to do this right before we're going to be locked in a cabin together for a weekend with all our friends?" His smile is soft as he nods, "Who said they have to know?" "They will. They always know when someone in the group is getting some, that's how bitchless everyone is." "You're not getting anything, I just want to see if you're a bad kisser." "This is exactly how Jeonghan got Jeon Minseo to date him for three years, you know." "You just love talking about other guys." He rolls his eyes, and you scoff. "And you're putting the moves on me! You don't even like me! How are you not still a whore that I should be wary of?"

"You don't know if I like you or not." He says, "you don't know how to ask questions, only make assumptions based on dated misinformation." "Why would I ask you if you like me when I don't like you? Let's not forget, you cockblocked me! I could be getting the pipe of my life right now!" You scold him, and a small smirk pulls at his lips.

"I mean, I could break my celibacy–" "Don't piss me off." "Then shut me up."

You only realize how close he is when you look back at him, his eyes still wide and watery and stupid as you rub your face in contemplation. A huff escapes your lips as you click your tongue, before you turn and lean into his face. His eyes flicker to your lips, shifting in his seat.

"If you tell anyone–" "I won't. This is just for you and me, I promise." 

You and me.

His hand is warm as he cups your cheek, and you struggle not to roll your eyes at the way your skin prickles. His breath is minty against your lips, and you let your eyes meet. Your face feels hot as he smiles softly, his thumb brushing the skin of your cheek.

"We don't have to–" "I want to." "Yeah?" You don't respond, opting to close the gap between you and slotting your lips with his. It's soft, it's natural – how easily you fall into rhythm with him. His lips are soft, tongue skilled as he slips it into your mouth. You didn't realize how much you were leaning into him as you sucked on his tongue, a soft groan from his throat making your heart race in your chest. Your hands grip the edge of the center console as his hand tangles in your hair, holding you against him as he nips at your lips. You move back, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips before clearing your throat.

"Proof enough?" "I think I need more, actually. Insufficient data and whatnot–" "Oh, shut up."

You scoff inwardly, feeling your cheeks hot as you move to pull away further, but he only follows. "Just one more." "Seungcheol–" "Please."

You roll your eyes, letting him slot your lips to his once more. It's like he's addicted, the way he leans over the center console even further just to be closer to you. Your hands grip his shirt, keeping him close as you move back. He chases your lips, but you move your hand to cover his mouth as he furrows his brows.

"Joshua's going to wonder where I am–" "Ugh." He falls back into his seat, running a hand over his face. "I forgot about him. It's not like he's your keeper." You snort, before awkwardly shoving your hands back into the pocket of the sweatshirt. "He's not, but he does have access to our Ring camera. If I show up with your spit all over me–" "We can wipe you down." "Seungcheol…this is just not a good idea." "Why?" You nibble on your lip, crossing your legs at the knee. Your thighs are tense under your shorts, clamped together as you try and push any thought of arousal to the back of your mind. You can feel him looking at you, and you pick at your nails inside the pocket of his sweatshirt.

"Just…take me home, please." He doesn't respond, only watching as you pull the seatbelt over your chest. The heat of his stare suddenly disappears, and you hear the click of his own seatbelt as he clears his throat. He doesn't say anything, even as you peer at him out of the corner of your eye, his hands fiddling with the shift gear before you feel the car steer back onto the road.

For a moment, there is nothing to say – but you feel small. You feel like you've done exactly what you'd been telling yourself you wouldn't, falling for charms that shouldn't have worked on you the way they did on all the other girls. You think about the way your sorority sisters fawned over him – his body, the way they bragged about being folded like a damn lawn chair at his leisure, the way his tongue made them lose their minds and almost always crawl back for more.

Sure, he's…honest. He told you he didn't like casual sex, he told you he didn't like the way it felt after.

But you know that only means he pushed the feeling aside time and time again, because he still did it. You knew more about how well he ate pussy than anything else, and you felt odd as your heart sank in your chest. You don't know of a single girl that he ever intended to be serious with – so what makes you any different? And why do you give a flying fuck about being different to him – you don't even like him.

Of course you don't like him. He's arrogant and annoying and…profound. And gentle, and smart and funny and flirty and so fucking stupid. He's so stupid, Choi Seungcheol.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" "I don't want problems this weekend, Seungcheol." "You won't have any. Don't worry about it." His voice is slightly tight, but you turn to look at him. He looks fine to the naked eye, his jaw relaxed, shoulders set back as he flicks on his turn signal. You nod slowly, feeling the car roll to a halt for a stoplight. He glances up at the red light, before his eyes flicker to yours. He raises a brow, and you just shake your head. "Sorry." "Nothing to be sorry for, Y/N." You don't like the way your name rolls off his tongue, it's nothing like the first time you heard him say it. He says it like there is nothing else to be said, your name being the stamp that ends the teasing, the trolling…and his brand of flirting. You shift in your seat, before seeing the gate of your apartment complex come into view. "You can stop here, I'll just walk the rest of the way." You murmur, and he tongues his cheek. He waits for the gate to open, the two of you peering over to see Joshua's car parked in front of your apartment. He's home, and you hear the familiar sound of thunder rolling overhead.

Seungcheol stops the car, the air thick like he has something to say. He doesn't, his finger unlocking the door and you mutter a thanks as you push it open. You set your foot out, but feel rooted in your seat. Your hand is tight around the handle of the door before you put your leg back into the car and close the door. Seungcheol makes a sound of concern, leaning forward slightly in his seat. His finger taps the center console, and you glance up at him.

"Cheol?" "Yes?" "Do you like me?" The words taste like metal in your mouth, but you chalk it up to chewing on your cheek too hard. He's silent, his fingers tracing the stitching of his center console before sighing.

"It's hard not to." He starts, and you feel your brows furrow on your face as you turn to face him fully. "You based yourself on what you heard about me, but if I had done the same thing…I think I still would've liked you a bit." "What?" "Joshua talks about you a lot. So does Jeonghan, Soonyoung…Mingyu, even. Just because I didn't get a chance to befriend you the same way they did because I was stuck in my own world…doesn't mean I don't know things about you. I know a lot about you, down to the fact that you learned how to swim in a lake after your sister threw you in. I know you don't like it when your food touches, I know you like to lie and say you're an inch taller than you actually are." "What's one inch?" You grumble, before shaking your head. "You're avoiding the question." "No, I'm answering and simultaneously telling you why you should give me a chance." "You lied to Chan–" "And you lied to Joshua when you said you said you'd never like a, what was it? A scum-sucking harlot like me? You're no better." "I don't like you, Seungcheol." You grit, "And I didn't lie. I said the truth, I could never–" "You're wearing my sweatshirt. You stare at me like you've never seen a man before in your life, don't think I don't notice the way you literally follow me with your eyes. Not to mention, we just kissed, not even ten minutes ago. You want to act like I'm not even worth the time, like I'm not worth your time but you act so differently when it's just me and you. You tell Joshua one thing, but you bite back your smiles when you talk to me. I was honest with you about my past, and what I want for my future. It's not enough for you to even try to change your mind and I can respect that, and I think whatever game you're playing needs to end now because I'm not strong enough for this seesaw. So, I'm getting off. How's that for never?" 

His jaw is tight now, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he closes his eyes. "I'm not coming this weekend, so tell Junhui I'm sorry. Please, go inside. It looks like rain."

You don't know why your nose burns as your jaw clenches, your hand gripping the strap of your bag so tight anyone would think you'd seen it run away before. A drop of water hits his windshield as you run your tongue over your teeth, a tear falling onto the light grey fabric of his sweatshirt before you haphazardly tug it off. You throw it into his backseat before pushing his door open, slamming it behind you as you get out and make your way to your apartment door. 

He doesn't pull away even as you get inside, and you feel your chest tight as you throw your keys into the bowl on the foyer table. Joshua's voice can be heard stopping abruptly in the kitchen as you toe your shoes off quickly, and you see the flash of a blond head as you hide your face and practically sprint to your room as tears flow down your cheeks.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" You don't respond as Joshua calls after you, slamming your way into your bedroom and locking the door behind you.

YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT THE SINKING FEELING IN YOUR CHEST AS YOU SAT IN FRONT OF JEONGHAN'S APARTMENT – AWAITING HIS ARRIVAL INTO THE RENTED VAN THAT WOULD PAVE THE WAY TO THE CABIN.

"Hey, honey." His voice is soft as he leans in the passenger window, and you hum in response. You don't look up from the book in your hand, even when you feel his cool fingertips thumb at your earlobe. "You don't look very happy." "I'm fine, Jeonghan." You spent a few hours sobbing silently into your pillow the night before, before Joshua and Junhui took your doorknob off to get in. You didn't tell them anything, only apologizing to Junhui for being a mess on his birthday weekend – and you almost threw up as you let Seungcheol's notice slip past your lips. Joshua's eyes had narrowed then, and he'd disappeared from your bedroom as Junhui hugged you tightly with whispered assurances that you were going to be okay.

Junhui wound up falling asleep on your bed next to you, your face swollen when you woke up the moment the morning sun started peeking in through your blinds. Joshua had taken it upon himself to pack your bag, leaving the green duffel at the edge of your bed in case you wanted to put anything else in it.

You spent an hour dunking your face in ice water to minimize the swelling, but it wasn't going down. Joshua only smoothed your hair and told you to get in the car after brushing your teeth. You told yourself that you'd be fine, that everything would be fine – until you saw Seungcheol's name flash across Joshua's phone screen the moment you got in the van and felt a sinking pit in your stomach.

Yearning is a bitch.

"Well…you might wanna go pee or stock up on something. You know the drive is very long, and I don't think Shua's gonna want to stop anywhere." He says softly, and you look up to see a very gentle look in his eyes. Almost like he knew something, and you had no doubt that he did as he opened the door and carefully unbuckled your seatbelt. "Come on." You obliged, quietly dog-earing your page and slipping out of the car. You cross your arms on your chest as you follow Jeonghan up to his apartment, not seeing Seungcheol's car anywhere nearby and feeling a bit of a weight off your shoulders. Jeonghan opens the door for you, following closely behind as you wander into the kitchen. Joshua and Junhui are packing things in coolers – sliced fruit, sandwiches…

And Seungcheol is quietly cutting things up for them in the corner, his hands covered in fruit juices and the kitchen covered in bottles of orange juice that seemed to be freshly squeezed. You can't see his face, covered by the shaggy mop of hair you'd gotten used to seeing dripping wet. Mingyu is hovering above the sink, furiously washing dishes as you slip past him – hearing him ask about Junhui's girlfriend and why she's not here.

You don't manage to hear the answer as you sidle up to Joshua, your hand gripping the back of his shirt as he peers down at you.

"How are you feeling, honey?" "Fine. Don't call me honey."

"Noted. How are you feeling, hoe?" You snort, pinching his side as you peer into the cooler. Grapes, sliced oranges, a few yoghurt parfaits you know aren't going to make it past the hour – not if Mingyu was anywhere near the coolers. You feel something cold against your cheek, and flinch to see Jeonghan holding a cold spoon to your face. You take it, silently patting it around your eyes as Joshua bumps his hip to yours.

"You're in my way, sweetheart." "Joshua." "I've called you these things for years, what's the deal? Scoot." You roll your eyes, sticking your tongue out at him before skirting back out of the kitchen. You hadn't been to Jeonghan's apartment all that often, only twice to sleep off one too many tequila shots and you were gone by morning. You wandered a bit before making your way down the hall. A few doors are left open, and you spot the bathroom when you stop. The other door left open is a bedroom, and you look over your shoulder before tucking the spoon in the back pocket of your shorts and peeking inside.

A large bed is in the middle, dressed in black bedsheets with a forest green comforter. There's a throw blanket bunched at the foot of the bed, and the smell of the room is familiar…patchouli, bergamot…sweet, sweet pineapple. Seungcheol's bedroom. You glance over your shoulder again as a laugh erupts from one of your friends, before you slip into the bedroom. You keep your hands tucked behind your back as you look around – framed photos of him, Jeonghan and Joshua, of the soccer team at SNU, of his family. A small white dog with a cherry clip in the fur has a small shrine all to herself on his dresser, Polaroids of her tucked into the mirror labeled Kkuma with dates. The walls are lined with awards, his degree placard, and a framed piece of newspaper from the SNU Hawk Review Committee. Star Soccer Captain Choi Seungcheol takes SNU to Nationals!

You feel your heart sink a bit, seeing his smiling face printed in the corner. There was yet another Polaroid stuck into the frame – him, holding the silver semi-finals trophy of the same year. Your fingers tremble as you take it into your hand, wiping the caked dust off the photo. You place it back, wiping your fingers on your shorts before sniffling inwardly.

You glance up to see everything else scattered across his desk – textbooks, open notebooks with scrawled notes and his laptop open to an anatomical sketch of the human hip. You read a few of the notes, not understanding anything on the page when your eyes flicker up to see a piece of paper sticking out from one of the folders on his desk. You carefully pull it out, feeling your nose burn as you read the familiar SNU headline.

Ex-soccer captain Choi Seungcheol loses scholarship due to injury.

You remember this article. It had been printed without authorization from the committee, and you remember the editor lost her mind. All copies were to be returned to the yearbook office by that afternoon, but it seems he managed to keep one. You run your finger down the photo of him in the corner, a black-and-white version of the Media Day photos that everyone looked forward to from the Athletics Department.

"You really shouldn't look through people's things. It's rude." You feel your skin prickle at his voice, but you don't bother looking up as you carefully slide the article back into the folder it came out of. You clasp your hands behind your back once more, your eyes scanning over the medals that lined the wall. Most Valuable Player, Best Forward, Best Leadership…

Most Likely To Go Pro. 

"Y/N." "I don't like it when you say my name like that." You don't look away from the wall, your eyes glued to the picture of his graduation. His mother is holding his cheeks tightly, his face pink from the summer heat and holding a large bouquet of flowers in the crook of his elbow. You reach for it, tracing her face with your fingertip.

"Your mom?" "Yes." "She's beautiful." "Thank you." He's closer now, his hand taking the photo from yours and placing it back on his desk. Your eyes move to his face, his eyes slightly swollen as he clears his throat. You feel your stomach knot up, your lips parting as he stares at the photo.

"They're waiting for you." "Come with us. There's room in the van, I'm sorry–" "I'll meet you there, don't worry about it."

I'll meet you there.

He tongues his cheek, and you feel your face grow hot as he peers down at you by the slope of his nose. He tilts his head, "Junhui and Jeonghan asked me. I'm not going to give you any problems, so don't–" "I'm sorry." You interrupt, "please, don't act like this. I don't like it." "You don't like me, so what does it matter?" His voice is soft, and you try not to react as the sting of tears fills your eyes. A honk makes you jump, his laugh tired and hollow. "Go on, Y/N. They're waiting for you." You blink up at him, "Cheol–" "Just call me Seungcheol. They're waiting, and you'll be late. Go, hurry." 

You ignore the pang in your chest as you listen to him, not feeling the heat of his gaze as you slip out of his bedroom.

Seungcheol feels like a fish out of water.

His car is silent, the grey sweatshirt you ripped off last night still thrown in his backseat. His duffel sits in the passenger seat, where the scent of your perfume mixed with sunscreen lingers. He feels his chest heavy as he maneuvers his way through the paved roads of the woodlands, the sun setting in the distance.

He can still feel your lips on his. He spent the entire night staring at the ceiling, feeling his chest ache every time he thought about the sweet taste of the cabana mocktails on your tongue. He ran his fingers over his lips constantly, the smell of your shampoo on his fingertips. He held the tears in as long as he could, but even the mighty fall – and he cried silently, trying to hold his sobs in so as to not wake up Jeonghan in the next room.

He remembers the first time he met you – a time you probably don't remember. It was in passing, though, and you hardly managed to speak to him so he didn't expect you to – at a party. It was Jeonghan's birthday, and it was being hosted at his fraternity's sister sorority house. All of your friends were there, and you greeted everyone eagerly while taking presents and hiding them in your bedroom. You were wearing a pair of tight black jeans and a red halter top, your hair flowing loosely as you bounced around like a spider on crack. 

It was just after Jaehee dumped him. He attended at the incessant begging of Jeonghan, who wanted him to get out of his slump; and wound up being introduced to you by Joshua before you sheepishly apologized and ran over to tend the drink station. He remembers the way your eyes were sparkly with excitement, your smile wide and lips glossed to high heaven. He wasn't even sure you registered his name, but he certainly knew you thought he was cute. You peered at him over the top of red solo cups, even pointing every time you thought he wasn't looking to ask about him to whoever was around you.

Seungcheol remembers the way your earrings swung as you danced, the way you sang the loudest for Jeonghan when you wheeled the cake in…the way you snuck off with Joshua in tow and a joint in your hand. And he remembers how sweetly you bid him goodnight when you found out he was leaving around midnight, even walking him to his car barefoot. You smelled of tequila and sweet almond oil, and he remembers filing you away to the back of his mind, purposely never to be thought of again lest he lose his mind. Everything he knew about you was from your friends. He made it a point not to bump into you, not to run in the circle all that often because he truly believed that crushes cannot be healthy in a friend group. He saw the way you narrowed your eyes if you saw him when you would attend soccer games to support Wonwoo and Junhui, the way you scoffed if you saw him after Jaehee must've told you something.

He saw how guarded you became, even if you didn't know him. He wasn't sure you knew who he was before Jaehee – but you also seemingly didn't care to hang out with him. You were always busy doing something else when he would hang out with the group – your mutual friends rolling their eyes when you'd call to bail because Wonpil wanted to hang out, or because you wanted to spend the night in (read: sleep with Wonpil), or because you simply didn't feel like hanging out.

It was truly, truly divine intervention that the two of you never saw each other – and he thought he'd escaped the idea of ever even being in the same room with you. He thought he'd tricked life, until he walked into the waterpark and saw you sitting at the gate in that bright red swimsuit – and all his memories of that first night came rushing back. He didn't consider anything but dishing back exactly what you served; the idea of sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thighs and covering the expanse of your neck with his lips only flooding in when he walked into the break room and saw you arguing with Soonyoung. You were so standoffish and mean and he didn't understand why he liked it. For years, girls fell to their knees without him even saying anything. Girls threw themselves at him left and right simply because he was on the soccer team, or because he was cute, or because they'd heard about him through the grapevine. But you? Claiming girl code, actively trying to make it a point not to be too available for him even as an employee at your job – he loved it. He loved how you scowled inwardly every time you walked past him, only to smile quickly at any passing mother or coworker. He loved watching the soft swing of your hips as you did rounds at closing, your soft humming to the loud cabana music incredibly cute.

He liked seeing you squirm, too. Calling you Barbie, calling you princess and seeing the way your brow would furrow and your nose would scrunch before you told him off…he lived for it. He felt a bit of pride in his chest when he saw you checking him out, even more so when you did it the night he pulled you into the hot spring. 

And he remembers the odd, rolling boil of jealousy in his stomach when he found out the dynamics between you and Chan; and it only got worse when he came across the knowledge that you and Joshua had slept together. He felt his throat tight as you spoke about it, your voice shy and he felt the ugly head of comparison trying to rear its ugly head in; and he felt stupid to feel so jealous, because you weren't his and you were pulling every move in the book to make it known that you would never be. He remembers the fury he felt in his chest when your eyes were full of fear that same night, the way your fingers gripped his sweatshirt as he told off that stupid guy in the parking lot, and he hated it. He tried not to think about what could've happened if he hadn't stayed the way Joshua asked him to.

He hates the way the title boyfriend referred to him temporarily, and falsely. He wants it, the real one; to be awarded the title of your boyfriend and never have to let it go, only upgrade. He wants to make you laugh and brush your hair for you and hold you against his chest during thunderstorms. He wants to hold your hand and kiss your cheek and pay your student loans and Seungcheol wants to make you proud. 

He thinks about how he hasn't dated or slept with anyone in years, calmly rejecting women and carefully avoiding situationships. He thinks about how he aimlessly flirted with the mothers at the park with zero intention of doing anything, just to feel the heat of your jealousy-fueled glare on his back. He thinks about how for the first time in ages, he wants to. He wants to date you – he wants to take you out to dinner and take walks on the beach and fill his room with framed photos of the two of you and take you home to meet his parents. He wants to embarrass you in front of them by kissing you like a mad man and he wants to serve your plate at family dinners and he wants to fill your cup every time it starts running low. He, admittedly, wants to sleep with you – he wants to make love to you, to feel you fall apart for him, to hear you moan and whine and make you cry on his tongue. He wants your shampoo to permeate his bedsheets, he wants the room to smell like you forever and he wants to run his hands over your hips and thighs and just kiss you until you can't breathe.

He wants you to kiss him, to touch him, to ruin him until he can't think of anything but you and all that falls from his lips is your name.

He can't shake the feeling of your lips. Soft and slick, the taste of you lingering in the back of his throat driving him absolutely insane. He pulls over twice on the way to the cabin to get himself together, breathing through his mouth just to see if the taste is still there despite his toothpaste and mouthwash. He palms at his shirt, hoping his hand feels anything like yours, hoping if he thinks about it long enough; you'll reappear. You'll reappear and he'll hear the choked laughter you bite back, he'll smell the chlorine and sunscreen and citrus…he'll feel the warmth of your tongue sliding into his mouth with your fingers bunching up his shirt and it'll settle his heart that feels like it's about to fall out of his chest. You'll reappear and he won't have to think about anything but you, granting him the once-in-a-lifetime chance to kiss you and have you to himself – even if it's just for the moment.

He's dipped his toe in the stormy whirlpool that is falling for you, and he's not so sure he wouldn't like to drown in it. In everything about you, the way you smell and how you fight your feelings back with a bat riddled in rusty nails and how you love. He sees it, your love in all your friends – your excited eyes when you would talk with Joshua about Junhui flying in for his birthday, your laughter ringing through the air when Mingyu chases after you after you steal his drinks at the cabana, your soft suggestions that Soonyoung stop wearing that fucking tiger-print Speedo. Only to turn around and look at him with wide eyes that narrowed just as fast, plump lips that pressed into a thin line with curt nods – that turned into bitten smiles, a soft glint in the back of your eyes and he wants you so fucking bad. He feels pathetic to want you so bad, it's only been a month. A month.

Fools love rushing in, though.

"Stupid. Get a grip." He mutters to himself, his GPS telling him to take a left turn. He does it, seeing the rented van come into view, the cabin towering three stories in the middle of the tall trees. The lights are on, but he can hear laughing and smell the smoke of a fire as he pulls in next to the van. He turns the car off, before hearing someone start screaming about being thrown in the lake. A splash is heard as he opens the door, momentarily pausing before reaching behind the seat and grabbing his sweatshirt. He tugs it over his head, grabbing the strap of his bag before climbing out and slamming the door shut.

He's quiet as he walks towards the door, hearing rustling inside as he treks the steps. He knocks on the door, hearing a soft laugh as someone makes their way to the door. As it opens, he hides his subtle disappointment when he sees Minghao's girlfriend smiling brightly.

"Cheol! Come in, come in. Everyone's out back, I'm just getting some more beers with Hao. Uh, Shua said your room is on the second floor to the left, baby blue door." She gives him a one-armed hug, and he greets her quietly. Minghao calls his greeting from the kitchen, his girlfriend quickly skirting back as Seungcheol makes his way to the stairs. He toes his shoes off, quietly making his way up the steps and looking around before seeing a baby blue door with his name taped on it. The surrounding doors have Minghao, Joshua, Jeonghan…Y/N.

He steps inside, immediately hit with a wave of the citrusy perfume you wear. He sees the entire room covered in memorabilia – you and Joshua, you and your sorority sisters, you and…your grandparents. He sees a singular photo of you, a girl who has a striking resemblance to you and two adults. It's caked in dust and shoved in the back of all the photos, and he sets his bag down on the dresser before tucking his hands in his pockets and looking around. There is a hand-drawn map, easily having been done by a child, of the woods surrounding the cabin. 

"Hey, you made it."

He turns, seeing Joshua standing in the doorway. He nods curtly, before Joshua takes a step into the bedroom and closes the door behind him. "What's going on with you?" "Hm? Nothing, I just needed some time alone." Seungcheol shrugs, and it's not entirely a lie. Joshua sighs, setting his beer down next to Seungcheol's duffle on the dresser. He takes a seat on the foot of the bed, crossing his ankles as he leans back on his arms.

"I know you have feelings for Y/N. It's okay, Cheol." He scoffs, not bothering to face the younger man as he looks at the soft trinkets lining the shelves on the wall. Small angel figurines, religious elements that he's not too sure you subscribe to, a white maneki-neko…a picture of you at graduation, alone. Your smile was too forced, your eyes brimmed with tears and your hands holding your degree so tight, your fingertips looked pained. Tucked in the frame was a Polaroid of you and Joshua sitting in front of a cake that said Congratulations, Graduates!

"Y/N and I aren't romantic." Joshua speaks up, and Seungcheol feels his back tense as he shrugs again. "Don't shrug me off, I know it bothers you. I know you care, Cheol, so let me talk about it." "I don't care." "Yes, you do! Jesus Christ, the two of you are fucking idiots! It's like neither of you understand that you can put your pride aside and feel the things you want to because suddenly it means you're admitting to being human!" Joshua pushes off the bed as Seungcheol peers over his shoulder at him. Joshua runs a hand over his face, "I've known Y/N for over a decade. I've seen her through everything; through grief, in love, in financial crisis, on vacation, and throwing her guts up after drinking too much. I know that girl from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and trust me when I say that she's just not good at admitting her feelings. Do you know how long it took for her to admit she had feelings for Wonpil? Two years. He graduated early and she was still pining after him, I had to tell him myself. And now, I'm telling you." Joshua walks over to Seungcheol, his hand on his shoulder as he leans in.

"I love Y/N, more than anything. She is my best friend, she's my rock and I have no problem taking care of her. But if I have to mend her broken heart because you can't be a man…Seungcheol, I can't imagine it will end well for you."

"It's not me who doesn't want her." Seungcheol speaks softly, tonguing his cheek. "I told her in the car…when I dropped her off last night. I told her that it was her that was pushing me away, because she can't let go of who I used to be. I explained, and I told her I've changed. It's up to her, Joshua, because she tries to convince herself of feelings she doesn't have. She tries to convince herself she doesn't like me. Not me."

The younger man's eyes soften, and he sighs. "She's just scared." "I don't bite." Seungcheol whispers." No matter how much of a dog she thinks I am."

"She did not say that." "She did. And it's fine. I'm not here to cause a scene, I'm here to celebrate my friend's birthday and get wasted. So…let's go, Shua." Seungcheol forces a small smile, seeing the concern lace in the back of his friend's eyes as he pushes past him. He slips out of the bedroom, barreling down the stairs of the cabin with Joshua in tow. He slips his shoes back on, making his way towards the back of the cabin.

"Is everyone here?" He speaks over his shoulder, and Joshua makes an affirmative noise. Seungcheol peers out over the shaded back porch, seeing all their friends scattered around the fire and you, silently sipping a beer as Junhui tells a story Seungcheol can't quite make out as he steps out.

"Cheol!" Junhui yells, "you made it!" The two men slink out of the cabin, Seungcheol forcing yet another smile on his lips as he greets almost everyone with a quick hug. Someone hands him a beer, someone else shoves him in a chair and Chan is sopping wet from (presumably) being thrown in the lake – but all he can think about is how hard he wants to mistake the heat of your eyes for the flame of the fire.

He tries to be in the moment, to listen to Junhui's excited stories about being overseas. He tries to focus when Jeonghan talks about his solo trip to Bali and how he got scammed into buying cat food by a cat. He tries to laugh when they laugh, he tries to ignore the sinking pit in his stomach when you softly ask if anyone wants s'mores; and he's unsuccessful as he notices the way your hands clenched into fists at your sides, thumbs shoved into the front pockets of your shorts.

He feels his heart ache when you return with your arms full of things; marshmallows, graham crackers, chocolate bars and he can't help but let his body take over and help you. He takes the ingredients from your arms, your eyes watery when your hands brush his wrist with a soft thanks. He tongues his cheek as the lump builds in his throat, rapidly blinking the tears that build in his eyes away. He doesn't respond – only breaking the cracker box open and laying them out on the tray you'd tucked under your arm, portioning the chocolate out accordingly. He watches as you sit and roast your marshmallow in silence, smiling quietly at Junhui as he talks about Minghao visiting him during the winter holidays. 

He knows the group is aware something has happened between the two of you when you take a cracker from Seungcheol, only to offer it right back with your blazen marshmallow. He knows you know the group is aware when you blow the fire out on the melting sweet treat, placing another cracker on top before putting it in his hand and casually continuing the conversation.

He knows you want him to know you're glad he's there, when you pass him a beer and whisper in his ear: I was worried you wouldn't come. No one was looking at the two of you then, rummaging through the coolers for drinks or sneaking off in all directions to pee in the forest when there are three free bathrooms inside the cabin. FOMO, he assumes, but he only looks up at you and gives you a small shrug – trying so hard to ignore the way your eyes flicker to his lips before you slink away and into your chair four feet away.

He aches to reach for your hand, nearly crushing the beer can in your grip. He aches to hold you close as Joshua smooths your hair down in passing, shoving a slice of watermelon in your hand and telling you to eat. He aches to slip in the chair next to you, close to you, the way Hansol does when he asks if you're okay. Your voice is only soft as you say I'm fine, just tired.

He decides to turn in early, claiming a headache when Seungkwan, Seokmin and Soonyoung start bothering you. Joshua tells him to rest well, and set an alarm for eight-thirty because the group was going to the waterfalls in the morning. He nods, but he's sure your shriek from being picked up by Mingyu and thrown into the lake could've been heard all the way back into the city. He could hear music start playing outside through the wall of the cabin as he slipped inside, his thoughts not drowned by the hot water of the shower pelting the back of his head; in the bathroom that he realizes is a Jack-and-Jill with your room as he hears slamming on the other side.

He pretends not to hear your grumbling and the schlop of your wet clothes being taken off as he pulls his shirt over his head, walking out into his bedroom for the weekend. He pretends not to hear you say ouch! when he hears a shampoo bottle clatter on the bathtub floor as he's pulling his sweatpants over his hips.

…And he lets a singular tear fall when he hears a soft sob through the bathroom wall, pulling the duvet over his shoulder and staring at your graduation photo with his heart in his throat.

It's nearing two in the morning, and you can't sleep. 

It's raining, and you're sitting on the back porch in your underwear. Everyone had long gone to bed, feeling stupefied by the heat of the fire and the side effects of too many beers each. Your friends had a wonderful first night at the cabin, and most of them didn't notice the carefully timed sniffling or the way you quickly wiped any stray tears from falling down your face. You could tell they sensed something was off though, going as far as having Mingyu throw you in the lake fully clothed to shock you out of it. It didn't, and you stormed upstairs and cried your eyes out in the shower. You only went back downstairs to help Joshua to his room after your shower, his cheek rested on your head as you hauled him into his bed before he spoke to you.

"You're not going to be able to sleep until you and Seungcheol talk things out, you know. Just…listen to me, for once. Yeah?"

And the words lingered in your mind before you came outside. Your knees to your chest as you sat in the wooden swing that belonged to your grandmother, just watching the rain pelt the lake. The wet air felt gross against your bare legs, your underwear barely peeking out of the oversized shirt you donned before bed. However, the feeling was drowned out by the tears that filled your eyes again – and you felt stupid, because it's not like you and Seungcheol had been together. It wasn't like he and you broke up or anything, so it didn't really make sense to feel the way you did. You were angry at yourself, knowing he'd carefully taken down every brick of the wall you'd set up faster than a New York minute the moment you saw him. He'd chipped away at you, pulling you closer and closer, only for your words to say something you didn't mean – words you had meant only a month earlier, and now it felt like your heart was going to come out of your throat.

Maybe it's all a side effect of refusing to feel something and losing everything he is in the process.

And you just sit and think. You think about your past relationships – really, just Wonpil. He had been a good guy, really…he just had a tendency to leave right after sex. The dates were lovely and long-winded, carefully planned. He made so much time for you outside of his busy work schedule, even when you told him you understood dating a college girl wasn't exactly ideal for someone with his workload. He made you feel seen, just for a moment – and the sex itself wasn't all that bad, either. But you did feel a bit empty. Eventually, the bits of empty became a lot of feeling empty – and you ended it quietly over a final time in his apartment together. He tried to apologize, to make it up to you, he even begged – but you'd stoically pulled your jeans on and left without another word. 

It bothered you. You didn't know how to bring it up and you'd only really had sex for the last year of your relationship, so it didn't seem worth it, anyway. However, it did leave you confused when Joshua didn't do the same thing. You'd physically kicked him out of your bed the last two times the two of you slept together – but not before you realized that the gentle caresses, the warm towel wiping you down, the hot bath…it didn't make you feel empty. You didn't feel empty.

Sighing inwardly, you let the tears flow freely, taking a quick drag of the joint in your hand. Soonyoung had managed to get a few before you and Joshua picked him up in the van, and you stole one from his suitcase when you snuck outside; snatching a lighter from Minghao before he and his girlfriend settled in for the night. You smushed your cheek in the crook of your elbow, before you heard the click of the back door opening.

You glance up, seeing Seungcheol's eyes wide as he spotted you. You felt your throat dry, swallowing hard before clearing it.

"Hey."

He gives you a curt nod, before slipping out and closing the door gently behind him. He has a beer in his hand, his forefinger flicking the tab cautiously as he looks out in the forest. You glanced up at him, before he met your eyes.

"You can sit." You patted the cushion next to you, and he looked hesitant before doing so. He leaned back slightly, before pushing the swing to rock lightly. You clear your throat again, hearing him crack the beer open before seeing him hold it out to you. You look at him with a confused look, before his cool fingertips swipe at your wet cheeks. You don't move away, and he sighs, lightly brushing his knuckles against your skin before pulling back.

"You need it more than I do." He shrugs, before plucking the joint from your fingers and shoving the beer into your hand. You click your tongue, before taking a small sip. It's cool down your throat, and you set it down between the two of you. "How was the drive?" "Good. Quiet." He nods, flicking the ash off the end of the lit joint before taking a quick drag. "Got lost a few times but…here I am." You snort, "Yeah, she's hard to find. My old man did it on purpose."

Seungcheol nods, a small smile on his lips as he blows the smoke out carefully. He holds it back out to you, your fingers brushing his as you take it gently. He hums, reaching for the beer and clicking his tongue.

"Joshua talked to me, you know." He starts, and you nod silently. You already knew, based on Joshua's demeanor when he walked out of the house with Seungcheol earlier. His shoulders were too rigid to have not scolded someone. "Said that you're a crybaby princess who can't talk about her feelings or you'll combust into flames and engulf us all." "He did not say that!" You huff, and the small smirk on his lip says you're right. You scowl, kicking his thigh softly when he catches your foot. He pulls you toward him, your hip bumping his as he drapes your leg over his lap, his hand high on your bare thigh. You feel your face hot as he stares down at you, eyes full of what you're sure you've mistaken as fondness. "Stop looking at me like that." "I can look at you however I want." He murmurs, his fingers gently pushing your hair out of your face. "Do you remember when we first met?" "...You mean a month ago?" "I mean freshman year on Jeonghan's birthday."

You blink, feeling his arm wrap around your shoulders. "What?" "Mhm. We met freshman year at Jeonghan's birthday party. It was right after Jaehee dumped me but before you knew it, because it was like you'd never heard of me before. You had this red top on with gold earrings and you looked so beautiful." He sighs softly, before his fingers drum onto your shoulder. "I was so convinced I'd get a crush on you that I actively avoided the group after finding out how close you and Joshua were to Jeonghan. I wasn't going to ruin a friendship of over a decade with Jeonghan and Joshua by dating their friend. And then the circle just kept getting bigger and I was adamant I wouldn't get close to you, I didn't want to sully anything if I wasn't what you wanted." You look up at him, but he keeps talking. "And I saw how you acted when you'd see me at games after Jaehee told you whatever it is that she did. I saw you cheering for Wonwoo and Junhui all the time and I remember how I felt my knees weak every time I saw you in the stands just sipping on a lemonade." He snorts, "I saw you at all of Jihoon's recitals, and you always had a huge bouquet of flowers. But I knew you were friends with Jaehee, and I knew that that was why you acted the way you did. So I wasn't very surprised to find out that you don't remember meeting me after disliking me for so long without even so much as remembering my face." "I remembered your name, that was enough." You weakly argue, and he laughs softly. It's softer, it's real as he squeezes your shoulder gently. "I'm sorry, Seungcheol. I've been such a jerk–" He doesn't let you finish, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. You frown as he pulls back, your hand moving to the back of his head and pulling him down. Your lips meet his continuously; soft, damp kisses that taste like beer and weed and I'm sorry.

"You don't need to apologize, okay? If anything, I'm sorry, sweetheart. I was wrong to talk to you the way I did. I felt too much at once and that's my problem, not yours and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I should've talked about it and then maybe we'd be in a different position right now. But if I dwell on the maybes, on the what ifs, on what I should've done, I'll never get anywhere."

His hand is warm against your cheek as he keeps you close, your lips pouted as he sprinkles kisses all over your face. His teeth nip at your cheek playfully, making you scowl as you attempt to move back when he soothes it with a brush of his lips.

"I like you a lot. You don't have to like me back, but I just wanted you to know. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you and it's ruining me. You are ruining me."

"Come sleep in my room." You murmur, your cheeks hot and feeling him nod as he presses another kiss to your lips. 

"Whatever you want, baby." You both slide off the swing, your hand instinctively taking his as you put the joint out in the ashtray. You toss it into the beer can, throwing it away in the porch trashcan before pulling the cabin door open and slipping inside. He's warm against your back as you go up the stairs, his hand squeezing yours as you lead him into the bedroom you chose for the weekend.

You lie across the bed as he takes a seat at the head of it, his shoulders resting against the headboard. He gives you a quizzical look, patting his lap before you crawl over to him and swing your legs over his. Your thighs lock him beneath you, and you bury your face in his neck. You feel his hands run up and down your hips as he peppers kisses along your hairline before planting a kiss on your shoulder. The closeness isn't nearly enough, and you're practically vibrating out of your skin as he presses another soft kiss to your neck.

"You never told me if I was a bad kisser or not." You mumble into his skin, and you feel the rumble in his chest as he laughs. He slides his hands up your back, stroking it gently before you feel a teasing smile against your cheek.

"You didn't give me enough data." You gape, pulling your face back to see him smiling cheekily. "Yes I did! You're just greedy."

"Oh, incredibly. Greedy, jealous…all of it. Nice underwear, by the way." He snaps the waistband against your hip, and you swat his hand away with a frown. "You're really are a whore." 

"I can show you how much of a whore I am, keep it up." He scoffs, and you roll your eyes despite the surge of heat to your cheeks. "What happened to California Celibate? Liar." "Mmh. It's still there…somewhere. Can't find it right now. You're so warm." He hums, nosing at your face as your hand grips his shirt. "Stop it, you're embarrassing me." "Nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart, but I guess we'll never know if you're a bad kisser or not." "I am a good kisser, I don't need to prove that to you again."

"But you want to, don't you?" You don't like the way your skin pickles so noticeably at his smile, before he softly buries his face in your neck. You feel his lips brush against your skin, his fingers squeezing your hips softly. He's nipping at your neck gently, your eyes fluttering shut as you bite down on your lip. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as his tongue trails up your neck, your breath coming out in a shudder as his teeth catch your earlobe.

"Can we take this off?" He tugs lightly at the hem of your shirt, and you scoff, your fingers moving to tug the hem up. "I thought you just wanted to see if I'm a bad kisser."  He smiles against your jaw, pressing a kiss on it before pulling you higher on his lap. "You're an excellent kisser, and we don't have to do anything if you don't want to, okay? Just wanna see you, pretty." You roll your eyes, your cheeks heating as you pull the shirt over your head and toss it behind you. You dip your head down to kiss him and he eagerly meets your lips, his fingers tightening around your hips as yours card through his hair. You tug slightly, his hips jerking up involuntarily and making you moan into his mouth. His arm moves to wrap loosely around your hips, his other hand stroking your hip gently before sliding up to the base of your neck. He gives a soft squeeze, chuckling lowly as he draws a whimper out of you.

"So cute." "Shut up, take your shirt off." He obliges, letting you pull the hem up. He slips it off, throwing it to the side as your hands shamelessly run up his soft chest, the glint of a silver bar through his left nipple catching your attention. You lightly dig your nails into his shoulders, noting the soft blush that coats his cheeks as he looks away, his hands roaming your thighs aimlessly. Raising a brow, you keep your eyes on his face as you dip your head into the curve of his neck; your lips brushing along his skin as he shivers. Your hands run down his arms, and you move back a bit to see his cheeks and ears burning red. His lips are swollen from kissing you, and you stupidly clench around nothing as you tilt your head at him. "Don't look at me like that." He murmurs, his fingers tightening slightly against your thighs. You smile inwardly, "Like what?" "Like you're going to eat me. Just do it." You nod slowly, hearing Joshua's voice in your mind – Seungcheol was exactly your type: broad shoulders, thick thighs…tries to put you in your place. You tongue your cheek, your fingers tracing circles into his chest as he watches you intently; he flinches as your palm swipes over his pierced nipple, your brows raising slightly. You rub the pad of your thumb over it again, feeling his hips twitch beneath you. You do it again, slightly harder with a gentle pinch, his jaw tight as you smile inwardly.

"So that's what you meant." You murmur, before leaning down slightly. "What if I…do this?" You run the tip of your tongue over the bud, hearing him suck in a breath. You smile against his skin, before flattening your tongue against him and slowly swirling it around. His hips grind up into your core, and you feel a flood of arousal seep into your underwear as his dull nails dig into your skin with a shaky breath. You suck lightly, his hands pressing you down against his hardening cock with a grip so tight, you hope it'll bruise.

“Shit—”  “Oh, you’re so fucking cute.”

You peer up at him, his head thrown back and cheeks ruddy as you gently scrape your teeth against the nub, pulling at the jewelry — when you hear a soft whimper fall from his lips. His hand moves to card through your hair, your tongue still out of your mouth as he pulls you back gently before crashing his lips to yours. It was the opposite of all the others so far; it was desperate, messy, horny, as he held you pressed to him, the feeling of him rutting against your flimsy underwear making you ache with want.

Your fingers stay splayed on his chest, slowly sliding down his stomach as he whines into your mouth. He pulls away, trailing his lips down your jaw, his hips dragging agonizingly slowly against you.

“Touch me.” He whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Please, touch me.”

“So pretty when you beg, hm?” You nip at his neck, your hand palming him over his sweatpants and earning a shiver. You squeeze your hand around him, his hips bucking up into your palm as you smile into his skin. “So sensitive.”

He's blushing hard as you press your lips to his again, kissing him slowly; your fingers pulling at the strings of his sweatpants. His hand is still settled at the base of your throat, pulling you impossibly closer as he slides his tongue into your mouth with practised ease. You tug at his waistband slightly, his fingers flexing around your neck pulling a whine from your throat – and you dip your fingertips below the waistband of his sweatpants, feeling his stomach cave in slightly as you brush the tip of his leaking cock.

"You don't have–" You cut him off with a chaste kiss, your hands pulling at the fabric again before speaking against his lips. "I want to. Take your pants off." 

"Take them off me." He sinks his teeth into your lower lip lightly, pulling it before kissing you deeply. You don't break the kiss as you pull his sweatpants down slightly, and he lifts his hips a bit to get them off. You push them down, leaving them bunched at his knees before he leans forward and pushes them off the rest of the way – his hands sliding back to settle on your ass with a soft squeeze. You pull away from his lips, resting your forehead low on his as you peer down, your eyes widening slightly at the sight against his lower belly.

"No underwear, hm. Slut." You mutter under your breath as your fingers wrap around his hard cock, warm in your palm as you glance down. Thick, with a few pearls of precum dripping down the shaft that smear when you run your fingertip through it.. "Yours." He murmurs back, your eyes flickering to meet his. He's staring at your mouth, cheeks red as he nibbles on his lip. You squeeze your hand around him, making his lips part with a soft exhale. "Hm?" "Yours. Your slut." He whispers, a slight shake to his voice as you feel your face grow hot. You tilt your head, nodding slowly before leaning forward and letting a wad of spit fall from your lips onto his tip. You smile inwardly at the way he bucks into your hand as you smear it around, pressing the pad of your thumb into the slit before glancing back up.

His eyes are low as he shudders, tucking his lip beneath his teeth as his fingernails dig into your hips. You slip your free hand up his chest as you pump his cock, the wet sound accompanied by soft pants from his lips as he wraps his arms around your waist. Your hand brushes over his nipple, his lips parting as you roll it through your fingers. You can feel the way he holds himself back from thrusting into your hand, his fingers tight around your waist when you press a soft kiss to his lips.

"So needy." You coo against his lips, feeling his breath hit your lips as he pants against you. "You're not even looking at me, maybe I should stop–" He whimpers in response, burying his face into your neck and mouthing at the skin. His sounds are incoherent, almost as if he's trying to form words as you pinch his nipple. The groan he lets out is loud, and you part your lips to say something when you feel his teeth sink into your shoulder. Your hand squeezes him tight, a moan right in your ear as your own falls from your lips, turning into a pitchy whimper when he runs his tongue over the marks of his teeth on your skin. 

"Please…" He breathes out, like he's not even sure what he's asking for. You push him back gently, his back hitting the headboard as your hand splays on his chest. His eyes are watery, lips swollen as you try not to think about how painfully turned on you are. You quicken your pace, feeling him shiver as his stomach caves in slightly; pitiful whimpers from his throat as he lets his head fall back against the headboard, lashes wet.

You shift slightly, the uncomfortable feeling of your underwear sticking to you as you glance down at his cock. So heavy in your hand, twitching uncontrollably and making your mouth water. His thighs are trembling slightly, and you move his hands off you before scooting back on his legs and dipping your head down. You press the tip of his cock on your tongue, his hips bucking up involuntarily with a soft moan. 

"You don't have to–" His voice is so breathy you almost don't catch what he's saying until a punctuated fuck rings in your ears as you wrap your lips around him with a soft suck. His fingers card through your hair shakily, gathering it in his hand as you take him deeper. Your nails dig into his thighs, drawing yet another whimper from him as he shallowly fucked into your mouth. You bob your head up and down slowly, swirling your tongue around the tip and curling your fingers around whatever doesn't fit; hearing his breathing get ragged above you. You swallow around him, feeling his hips still and his grip on your hair tighten a bit as the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. You groan around him, the vibrations enough to send him over the edge with a soft whine.

He scrapes his fingernails on your scalp gently, incoherent grumbles as your tongue overstimulates him. He pushes you back slightly, making you slide off his cock with a pop. A bit of his release dribbles down your chin, his tongue swiping across it before you can even reach to wipe your face. He doesn't let you, kissing you hard as he leans into you, his hand your belly pushing you onto your back gently. He pins you against the mattress by sliding his hand to lightly rest on your neck, your legs wrapping around his waist as you slide your tongue into his mouth. He groans at the taste of himself on you, sucking on the tip of your tongue before you feel his cock press against your thigh. You let your hand circle his wrist, pulling away from his lips and looking up at him – the same empty feeling getting ready to settle in your lower belly, and you don't want it to. He meets your eyes, pupils blown as you swallow carefully. He tilts his head, scanning your face as your fingers card through his hair, silently tracing the shell of his ear before resting on his cheek. He leans into it, pressing a kiss to the heel of your palm before his eyes look questioning.

"This…you're not going to leave after, right?" Your voice is so quiet he has to lean down a bit, and you clear your throat. "You're…you're going to stay, right?"

He furrows his brows as you look at the ceiling above him, his hand slipping up from your neck to hold your jaw. He makes you look at him, your vision slightly blurry through tears as he rests his forehead to yours. You cover your eyes with your hands, breathing in shakily before dropping them to your sides and forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "Of course I'm going to stay, Y/N. I'll stay forever, if you let me." He presses his lips to your cheek, and you roll your eyes as a tear manages to slip out. You wipe it away quickly, "Sorry. It's stupid." "No, it's not. Don't be sorry, baby. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." He runs his fingers over your cheek, squishing the fat between his knuckles before tracing the shell of your ear. "We can stop here. I'll just–" "I want you to touch me." You interrupt, your voice almost too loud as his eyes widen. You feel your face hot as you avoid eye contact, the uncomfortable feeling of your underwear sticking to you becoming unbearable. You shift, thighs twitching when you feel his cock brush over your ruined panties. "I want you, Cheol." He hums, his own question slipping out carefully.

"You like me, right?" His voice is no higher than a whisper, "You want to be mine, right? More than this, more than tonight?"

You nod silently, your fingernail moving to trace shapes in his chest. His fingers slide between yours, pinning them to the side of your head. "I need to hear you say it, pretty." "Want to be yours." You utter softly, "as long as you'll have me." 

You don't get to say much else before his lips are on yours again, his hand slipping out of yours to cup your jaw. He trails off your lips, kissing down your jaw and snaking his tongue down your neck, relishing in your soft sighs. "So beautiful." He mumbles, his lips messy across your chest, his fingers moving to hold your hips as he makes his way down your body. His tongue is swirled against your left nipple, taking it into his mouth and sucking softly as you push your chest up with a choked groan. He smirks against your skin, pulling off with a wet sound before his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear. His lips stay on your chest, nipping all over it as he carefully tugs it down. He sucks a soft mark onto your collarbone, your skin prickling from the cool air as he tosses your underwear over his shoulder. He glances up at you as he slides his hand between your thighs, your own shyly covering your cheeks and lips. He spreads them, the air making you flinch slightly as he presses a soft kiss to your right nipple; before you feel his fingers slip lower, gathering your arousal with his tongue circling the hardened bud.

Your hand slides into his hair as he traces tight circles into your clit, making your room fill with bitten back whimpers, and your thighs tremble pathetically. He only smiles against your body as he moves down your belly, leaving careful nips of his teeth on the softness of your skin. He spreads your thighs further with his shoulders, and you feel your face heat up as he presses a kiss to your hip and circles his arms around your thighs to pull you closer. 

His tongue slides slowly through your wet folds, flicking against your clit in a tentative lick; you feel a breathy chuckle against your skin as your hands claw at the bedsheets. You squirm against his tongue, feeling his lips pull your clit into his mouth and give a soft suck. A guttural moan rips through you as he laves his tongue over your clit, your fingers carding into his hair with a tight tug. He groans into your pussy, your body involuntarily rocking your hips on his tongue as he laps up your arousal like a man starved. You hate how quickly you can taste your impending orgasm on your tongue, your thighs snapping shut around his head as he traces your hole with his finger.

"Wanna cum on your cock," You whine, pulling at his hair. He looks up at you, pouty lips not stopping their sucking as you pant out. He hums, replacing his mouth with his fingers as his raspy voice fills the room. 

"I don't have any–" "I don't care. Please, please–" "Shh, shh. I got you, okay? So greedy."

You huff, his laugh only making you lightly kick his thigh with your foot as he towers over you. He scowls, grabbing your ankle and pulling you to the edge of the bed as he slides off. Your squeal makes his lips twitch, but he doesn't say anything as he  leans over, placing a soft kiss on your lips as his hand slips between your legs. 

You shake your head, grabbing his wrist, "No, wanna feel you. I'm ready." The blush on his cheeks spreads to his ears, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he shakes his head, "Baby, I–"

"Please."  "Who's begging now?" "Shut up!" He only laughs, his hands sliding down your thighs and hooking behind your knees; pushing them to your chest. He lets go to press his thumb against your clit, your thighs threatening to clamp shut around his hand as he rubs slow circles into it. He pushes them apart, holding you to his hips so his cock rests on your dripping center.

He grunts, your legs shaking with oversensitivity as he grinds his cock against you, tip bumping your clit messily and smearing your arousal all over his shaft. He pulls one of your legs over his shoulder, kissing the side of your foot as you feel his fingers splay on your lower belly.

“Here.” He runs his thumb just under your navel, “you’re gonna feel me here.”

Your eyes widen as he teases the tip of his cock around your hole, your hips bucking up at the sensation before he sinks in slowly. You let out a shaky breath, his hand massaging your thighs as you watch his face. He pushes in a bit further, his eyes nearly fluttering shut at how warm and wet you are.

His hand squeezes your thigh, burying himself in fully with a soft fuck from his lips. Your mouth waters at the stretch; feeling his thumb toying with your clit as your walls flutter around him.

“So perfect for me.” He mumbles inwardly, giving a careful thrust that makes you let out a sob. He leans over, his hands running up your body as your legs wrap around his waist, his lips finding yours in a needy kiss. “Mine, right? Just for me.”

“Yours.” You whine, watching the way his cheeks flush and he bites down on your lip, watching it spring back before sliding his fingers into yours. He buries his face in your neck, your hand digging your nails into his shoulder as he gives another roll of his hips. You feel him smile into your skin as your eyes roll back with a soft whimper, your thighs tightening around his waist. His fingers are bruising, his breath hitting your neck as he mutters praises into your ear.

"Look at you." He whispers, giving a hard thrust that makes your voice break as you drag your nails down his back. “My pretty angel takes my cock so well, hm?”

Your mumble of oh my God is interrupted with whimpers falling from your lips as his hips snap into you like he hates you. You throw your head back against the sheets with a choked groan as he moves to pin your wrists to the mattress with one of his hands. You close your eyes in embarrassment, tilting your head away from him when you feel his lips on your jaw.

“Don’t hide, baby. Wanna see your pretty face.” He trails his mouth to your lips, pressing chaste kisses to your open mouth. His hand moves to hold your jaw, keeping you in place as he kisses you sloppily and smiling into your lips as you struggle to keep up. He slides down your jaw once more, brushing his lips to your neck and nipping at the skin. He sucks a small mark just below your ear, his skin prickling as you moan in his ear.

"M-more, Cheollie..." You mouth messily at his neck, sinking your teeth into his shoulder; a hard thrust of his hips making your belly cave in as it brushes the stupid spongy spot that makes you see stars. You clamp down around him, hearing a pathetic whine into your neck as he does it again and again and again; making your eyes glaze over with tears of pleasure as your pussy flutters around him, the coil in your lower belly threatening to snap.

He pulls away, his hands moving to settle on your hips. His cheeks are flushed, lip tucked under his teeth as he fucks into you. He furrows his brows, feeling your gummy walls tighten around him before snaking his hand down to play with your clit. Your thighs threaten to close around his hips but he forces them apart as your fingers wrap around the base of his throat to pull him into you. You ghost your lips over his, taunting him before he bridges the gap when your fingers give a soft squeeze, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

"Want you to fill me up," You pant out, "Want to feel full."

He only whines into your mouth, his hips stuttering slightly as you clench around him, your orgasm making your limbs feel fuzzy and making you clench around him. He buries his face in your neck before spilling into you with an audible whimper. He doesn't stop rocking his hips into you, your nails dragging down his shoulders with breathy moans in his ear.

He presses a kiss to your skin, moving to pull back before you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. "Don't leave." "M'not going anywhere, sweetheart. I'm here." He presses his forehead to yours, his lips ghosting over yours. "I'm here." 

"You're sweaty." You mutter, and he gasps with a squeeze to your hips. "And you aren't?"

"I didn't say it was a bad thing. You…smell nice." You bury your face in his neck, "I like it." 

He only laughs softly, before feeling your hand snake down to his chest. You run the pad of your thumb over his collarbone, before you peer up at him through your lashes. "Hi." "Hi, sweetheart." "Will you shower with me?" "You mean will I hold you up because your legs feel like jelly?" "I mean will you go down on me against the shower tile." "So I am just a good fuck to you. No dinner, not even a drink." He turns his nose up at you, and you bite back your laughter as he carefully slides out of you. Your face scrunches with a wince, "At least you were good." He snorts, carefully wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling you off the bed. You let him carry you to the bathroom, and you lean your head against his shoulder when you pass by the mirror. You look like a couple; his thick fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he holds you close to him, the swell of your lips and his….the bite marks littering your upper bodies marking each other as lovers for the night.

And you feel your chest tight when you wonder if it's just for the night, feeling your eyes burn when his lips plant a kiss to your hairline.

The morning is quiet, and Seungcheol doesn't know what to do with himself when he sees you're glued to his side like gum to a shoe.

He can't imagine being able to peel himself from your embrace, your cheek squished against his chest and a bit of drool dripping from your puckered lips. Your neck and shoulders are littered with marks from his teeth, the duvet low on your back where his shirt is bunched up and your arm thrown over his waist. Your hair is in disarray, sticking up in some places when his hand moves to smooth it down.

He peeks at the clock on the nightstand, the red numbers showing 7AM sharp. He closes his eyes, running his fingertips along the side of your face as you grumble noises into his skin. 

His mind fills with the night before — the way you begged to be filled, how you touched yourself, the way your nails scratched into the muscle of his back and marked him as yours. The way you kissed his cheek and told him how pretty he was – all for you – right before you fell asleep.

He feels his chest warm as he recalls your tired groans when he massaged your hips, digging his fingers into your sore muscles after wiping you down. The way you kissed him softly, the way your hands brushed his shoulders as he held you against him in the shower, and he bites back a laugh as he remembers your sleepy voice telling him to never wear a shirt again.

He remembers your insistence that you were his, even when he didn't beg you to hear it. 

“Time?” 

He looks down to see you still resting against his chest, but your hand has come to wipe at your eyes. He watches you silently, before you pat his stomach lightly. “Seungcheol.”

You stretch your arms out, pressing a kiss to his skin. He loves the heat of the blush that coats his face as you press your cheek to his chest again, closing your eyes. "Time?"

“Seven. You slept two hours.”

“Shit. I lost rock-paper-scissors on the way here and said I’d make breakfast.”

He shakily runs a hand over your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear and tracing the shell of it. You hum softly, "We have to get up." "You're the one who still has her eyes closed." "I'm tired. And sore. Fuck you." "You have. No notes, by the way."

He squeals as you dig your fingers into his side, swatting your hand away and pulling the covers up to his eyes as you sit up. There's a scowl on your lip, your hair matted to the side of your head as you tug on the cover. He holds it tighter, smiling beneath it when he sees you tongue your cheek in efforts to hold back a grin. You cross your arms on your chest, his cheeks warming as you raise a brow at him.

"Get up." "Oh, I'm up. Trust me."

You gape, your fingers yanking the cover off him. He yanks it back, pulling your hand with it and wrapping his arm around you as you fall into his chest with feigned annoyance. He smiles as you try to push yourself out of his embrace, only tightening his hold around your waist as he manhandles you to sit on his lap. Your brow is furrowed, your hands wrapping around his wrists as he settles them on your hips. You frown as you feel him hard against your inner thigh, and you let your eyes flutter shut as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"You're a fucking freak." You mutter as you let your hands fall to his chest, running them up his skin before shaking your head. "We can't, Cheol. I have to make breakfast and the drive to the falls is an hour. There are a few natural hot springs scattered around, though, if you want to go for a dip." "Will you go with me?" He tilts his head, and you nod slowly. You look at your hands, toying with the drawstring of the shorts he shoved on when you fell asleep. You're nibbling on your lip, and he sits up slowly to meet your eyes. "You can talk to me, you know." "I know." "Then?" "You…are we…" You rub your hands over your face in frustration, and he bites back a small bubble of laughter that crawls up his throat. He slides his hands over your hips, pulling you close to his chest as you let your arms wrap around his shoulders. He feels his chest warm as you bury your face in his neck, lips brushing his skin before you press a chaste kiss to it. "Are we what, sweetheart?" "You know…" "Mmh, I don't believe I do." "Ugh, Cheol." You grumble, and he lets the laughter rip through him as you smack his shoulder lightly. "It's not funny! I'm nervous!" "Don't be nervous, baby. It's just me." "Yeah well…you make me nervous." "Just say what you wanna say. Judgement free zone for my pretty girl."

You stifle a squeal into his shoulder, your arms tightening around him as he snakes his hands under your (read: his) shirt. His fingers trace your back lightly, before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "You think I'm pretty." Your voice is soft, your fingers tracing circles into his back as you hold him impossibly tighter. "You want me to be your girlfriend so bad, don't you?" "Well, yeah–" "Fine, fine! I'll do it, jeez. Don't have to beg."

You roll your eyes as you pull back, but he feels the way your nails dig into his skin slightly. There is a hint of insecurity laced in your face as you press your lips to his forehead, and he rests his chin on your chest, looking up at you through his eyelashes. "Y/N." "Don't say my name like that, I feel like I'm in trouble." "Look at me."

You glance down wearily, and he watches how you carefully card your fingers through his hair as you nibble on your lip. "Mhm?" "I thought you understood that I was serious last night." "I…I didn't want to get ahead of myself, I guess. I didn't want to assume–" "I mean what I say and I say what I mean. I like you a lot, Y/N." His hands travel to your shoulders, holding them gently as he feels your heartbeat start racing under his palms. "I'm not leaving, I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you, more than just last night. You said…you said you wanted that, too." "I do! I do…I just…" You run your hands over your face, a noise of frustration sounding from your throat as he wraps his arms around your waist. "I just have issues." "So do I." "I have a lot of issues, Cheol. More than Vogue." "I like to read. Hit me." You snort, letting a sigh out as you drape your arms over his shoulders again. "I need to go downstairs and start breakfast. I…I like you, too. We can figure out the logistics later."

"Or you can seal your fate with a kiss." "Oh, you're corny. I hate that." "You'll get over it. Kiss me."

You lean over slightly as he puckers his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to them when a knock makes the two of you jolt. The door opens before you can climb off his lap, his hands tightening around your body as you twist to see Joshua and Jeonghan with mussed hair and toothbrushes in their hands.

Joshua's eyes dart between the two of you, before a sly smile creeps onto his face. He covers it with his hand, and Jeonghan scratches the side of his head before looking Seungcheol dead in the eyes. He feels you tense in his hold as Jeonghan rounds the bed, opening the nightstand and fishing out a new box of floss. "What are you guys still doing in bed? Nip Slip Nancy lost rock-paper-scissors, she has to make breakfast." Jeonghan's voice is gravelly, and you slump in Seungcheol's lap. You pat his shoulder, moving to get up when he holds you against him.

"Can you guys get out? We're trying to have a conversation." He frowns, and Joshua snorts. "Downstairs before seven-forty-five. We have to load the van and we have to eat breakfast. That includes the two of you, no matter how…preoccupied you are." Jeonghan shrugs, leaving an obnoxiously long string of floss between his teeth as he pivots back out of the bedroom. "If you're not down in five minutes, I'm airing your business out."

He tugs Joshua out with him, who gives the both of you a thumbs up before shutting the door behind him. You pat his shoulder again, "I have to–" "I want you. I want you to be mine, right now. I don't want to wait to figure anything out, I know. I. Want. You, Y/N." He punctuates the words with a squeeze to your sides, watching you bite back a shy smile. "I know we haven't gone on a date or anything, but we will. We will when we get back in town, I'll take you anywhere you wanna go and we can do whatever you want; I promise." You hold your pinky out to him, giving him a pointed look until he hooks his with it. "You know Joshua will kill you if you hurt me, right?" "Ooh, don't arrest me officer. I might like the cuffs." He rolls his eyes, and you gape. "I said that to him and he said I was something else! What does that even mean?!"

"That you'll say yes to being my girlfriend." "And if I say no?" "I'll tell everyone you're a bad kisser that has morning breath." "Yeah?" You smile softly, and he feels his stomach flip as you rest your forehead against his. He can't help but grin back, "Please? I'll wait if you want–" "I'll be your girlfriend. But I have rules, Seungcheol." "If this is about me not wearing shirts–" "Please stop wearing shirts. I need to see you all the time." "You're objectifying me." He grumbles, feeling you laugh into his chest before you press your lips into his. He allows it, kissing you back deeply when the smell of waffles starts wafting into the room. You pull back, your brow furrowed when you hear the banging of pots and pans – and Jeonghan screaming 'Y/N and Seungcheol sitting in a tree!'

"We'll get back to me objectifying you later, when you're naked in here again tonight. I gotta shut Jeonghan up." You twist yourself out of his hold, sliding off the bed and grabbing a robe off the bedpost. He pouts at the loss of warmth, leaning back on his hands as you skirt out of the room. He sighs, falling back onto the pillow and rubbing his hands over his face before the bed dips again and he feels your hand on his chest. You kiss him softly, "Come eat when you're dressed, pretty boy. And we can fool around in the hot springs later."

He swears he doesn't think he's ever going to get over you.

"HEY, SWEETNESS."

You struggle not to roll your eyes, feeling the cool sprinkle of water being flicked onto your thigh by a certain someone. You look away from the magazine in your hands, your boyfriend pouting at the edge of the pool you're laying by. Your foot is in the water, keeping you cool in the hot August evening; and you feel his fingers circle your ankle.

His form of foreplay, you've learned over the course of the last month and a half.

"Sir, the park is closed. You have to get out of the pool." You sit up on your elbows, the magazine splayed open across your belly. He scrunches his nose, pressing a kiss to your knee before resting his cheek on it. You bite back your smile, his cheeks ruddy and warm from the heat as you lean forward to brush wet strands of hair off his forehead.

"I miss you." "I'm right here." "Get in with me." 

"Mmh, the park's closing. There's no lifeguards." You shrug, pressing your lips into a thin line so as to not laugh when he huffs. You roll your eyes, tossing the magazine onto one of the chairs before turning and lowering yourself into the pool. He pulls you into him, holding you to his chest as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"No making out on the clock!" Joshua annoyingly reminds you as he walks by, still being the little shit you and Seungcheol know and (fortunately for Joshua) love. You snort, pressing a kiss to Seungcheol's jaw before wrapping your legs around his waist. He buries his face in your neck, mouthing at it gently as his hands circled your thighs under the water. 

"I miss you. Come over tonight. We can watch Fight Club and kick Jeonghan out." "You wouldn't kick Jeonghan out to watch Fight Club." "No, but I'd kick him out to make out with you on the couch. I haven't seen you in three days. Do you hate me?"

You snort inwardly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'm planning your birthday party; I don't hate you, dipshit. I…" You trail off, your eyes widening as you feel the heavy words on your tongue. He stilled, before lifting his head up to raise a brow at you.

He had long said them. He said those words many, many times already – the first time being a week or so into the relationship; holding you close to him and whispering them in your ear, mumbling them in the mornings where you'd be stuck to his chest because you just loved stripping him of his shirts. He said it in front of Soonyoung in the break room just last week, who made it his mission to tell the entire friend group – they lost their minds with that one.

And he made you feel special, Seungcheol. You knew, you understood that he wasn't just saying it to say it. It held weight to him, it meant something to him. It was real and he wanted you to know.

"You…what?"

You don't respond, carding your fingers through his wet hair and thinking about the pain in the ass he'd been when you got back to town after Junhui's birthday. He sat on your bed and made you pull out every red shirt you owned to see which one he saw you wearing the first time the two of you met – the red halter immediately catching his eye, making its soft-launch debut on his Instagram story two hours later on your first date.

The mothers at the park were truly disappointed when the pretty boy with the thick brows abandoned any and all flirting attempts for Lifeguard Barbie. Though they all agreed that seeing him pine after you while you were on the clock was pathetically cute – you left a sour taste in their mouths when he'd leave with you after your morning shifts; no more half-naked eye candy who flexes to make their mouths water, instead shy and reserved.

Well, not that they didn't know he was spoken for – the drags of your nails in his back were very noticeable when he took his shirt off. If that wasn't enough, your loud whistle from wherever you were in the park when you saw him take it off certainly was. He stayed to himself, he was quiet, he was needy – constantly giving you those puppy eyes and begging you to sit with him or give him a kiss. 

Sometimes you caved, sometimes you didn't – but on nights that you got out late, you could count on Seungcheol to drive you around and pull over in that same spot from before to kiss you stupid. He made it a point to have his lips on yours any chance he could – even if it was in front of your friends, who gagged like idiots and eventually made you and Seungcheol retreat to a different room if you wanted to continue. He made you feel wanted, he listened, he held you close any time you allowed it and he practically suffocated you in his adoration.

The relationship wasn't smooth but it was genuine – and the two of you were slowly working through things. He understood how Wonpil had made you feel after you were intimate, and made it a huge point to coddle you and cater to your needs any time you allowed. He smothered you with his affection and attention, and your friends loved to comment on the dynamic shift between you and him. Sure, you still called him a whore; but he was a whore for you, so you weren't exactly complaining. 

Seungcheol made himself a constant, he made himself dependable, he made it known he cared about you in every way you would allow – even if Joshua insisted he keep paying your student loans, that he was almost done anyway and it made him feel useful. Seungcheol began littering himself in every part of your life – there were an abnormally large amount of photos of the two of you sprinkled around your bedrooms, his sweatshirts and your t-shirts strewn in drawers, a spare key to apartments on your keychains, his credit card in your wallet and a nude Polaroid of you in his…

…A new, baby blue vibrator in your bedside drawer with twenty settings and the light bill connected to his bank account on auto-pay.

And you realize that maybe you didn't need to dip yourself into the steaming hot spring that was Choi Seungcheol. Maybe you didn't have to acclimate, because he was a tumultuous being of love and light and speckles of jealousy that made your skin prickle. Maybe you didn't have to understand your feelings about him right away, because either way – he knew what he wanted and he had no problem proving to you that you were, in fact, worth his time. 

Your heart is not solid, but it's no longer guarded by you, either – it rests in the safe embrace of Choi Seungcheol's hands, at his mercy.

"You what, Y/N?" He tilted his head at you, the glint in the back of his eye giddy as you tongued your cheek. He peppered kisses all over your face as you feigned annoyance, but ultimately you sighed as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. "C'mon, pretty girl. Say it. Tell me you love me." "You're such a Leo." "And?"

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as your boyfriend smiled into your skin. "And I love you."

"Suddenly the sky is brighter–" "Don't start." "I can hear birds singing–" "You are so dramatic!"

He only laughs, his hands squeezing your thighs again as he presses his forehead to yours. "You remember when you said when you run with dogs, you get fleas?"

You roll your eyes, nodding reluctantly. "I do." "How's that working out for you?" "Don't piss me off, Seungcheol." "I love you."

"I said no making out!" Joshua's voice crackles through the intercom, and you scoff as you give Seungcheol a soft, brief kiss before pulling away. 

"Come on, I'll clock out and we can make out in your shower." "And the couch?" "Even on the floor, if you're a good boy."

"You love me." He murmured as you tried to untangle yourself from him, his hands keeping you close. "Tell me you love me, sweetheart." "I love you, Cheol." "I love you, too, Lifeguard Barbie."

haologram © 2025 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[bee-taylorsversion]

STUDY BREAK PART 2: ORAL EXAM (18+)

Part 1 : study break

Pairing: Seungcheol x !female reader

Setting: college classroom (psychology majors)

Themes: study partners, college setting, power play, public risk, control, obedienceD/s dynamics, power play, public risk, Freudian dirty talk, degradation praise mix, voyeurism (soft), obedience, teasing, edging, oral (f receiving), fingering, permission to watch

Word count: \~3.3k

Rating: Explicit / 18+ only

minors dni!

_______________________________________________________

📱 [21:56] Seungcheol:

Lecture Hall B. Tomorrow. After classes.

Oral exam on Freud.

No panties.

You stared at the message so long your phone dimmed twice. You bit your lip.

Not because you were shocked but because you felt your body react immediately.

Heat pooled between your thighs, your core pulsing at the simple dominance in his tone.

---

The next day, you couldn’t focus in class. You didn’t bother wearing anything under your skirt.

Even during lectures, every movement reminded you of it: the raw skin-on-fabric friction, the cool air between your legs, the dirty knowledge that if anyone looked closely, they’d see.

And Seungcheol?

He sat behind you during your shared afternoon elective like nothing was different—cool, calm, taking notes. He hadn’t even looked at you once. The only moment he acknowledged you was when he stood up to leave and leaned down, lips grazing your ear.

“Hope you studied, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I expect you to perform.”

Your knees nearly buckled.

---

When you step into Lecture Hall B later, the classroom is mostly dark except for a few desk lights still glowing faintly. It’s the one they use for after-hours tutoring or private bookings. You glance around. Empty.

Then—

A throat clears.

You turn and find him already seated near the front of the room, legs stretched out, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his forearms, glasses sliding low on his nose.

“Close the door,” he says.

Your fingers move before your brain does.

He watches as you walk toward him, hips swaying slightly now that you're painfully aware of how little you’re wearing.

“On the desk,” he says. “Facing me.”

You sit at the wide professor’s desk near the podium, heart hammering.

He stands and walks up slowly, placing a stack of note cards next to you.

“Today’s topic,” he says, voice low, “is Freud’s psychosexual stages. You’re going to recite each one. Tell me the age range, the fixation behavior, and what unresolved conflict leads to dysfunction in that stage.”

You blink. “Is this a real test or—”

“Don’t interrupt,” he snaps, but his smirk betrays him. “And no stuttering. Every mistake earns a consequence.”

You sit up straighter. “Consequences?”

“Teasing. Edging. Denial. You know,” he says, voice like velvet. “Motivators.”

You swallow.

“Let’s begin.”

He flicks a note card over. “Stage one.”

You steady your breath.

“The oral stage,” you begin. “Birth to around 18 months. The focus is on the mouth—feeding, sucking. If fixation occurs—”

He cuts you off by stepping between your legs, spreading them wider with his thigh.

“Correct,” he murmurs. “And what kind of behavior results from oral fixation?”

Your breath hitches. “Nail-biting. Smoking. Oral dependence… compulsive eating or talking…”

He leans in closer, mouth brushing the shell of your ear. “And what else, sweetheart?”

You know what he wants.

You whisper, “Craving oral stimulation.”

He hums in approval. “Good girl.”

His hand slips beneath your skirt, fingers brushing your bare, already-damp folds.

“God,” he murmurs, “you’re soaked already? You do love being a textbook case, don’t you?”

You gasp as he draws a finger up your slit—not entering, not yet—just teasing the slickness there.

“Next stage,” he says, flicking another card.

“The anal stage,” you pant, struggling to focus. “18 months to three years. Focus on bowel control and retention.”

He circles your clit slowly.

“And fixation?”

“Compulsive cleanliness… or messiness. Control issues.”

“Mm. I can tell you’re not in control right now,” he whispers. “Which means you’re mine to manage.”

You nod, almost dazed, hips bucking slightly into his touch.

He pulls his hand away.

“Next.”

“Phallic stage,” you rush out. “Ages three to six. Focus on genitals. Development of the Oedipus complex in boys, Electra in girls—”

His lips are suddenly right against your neck.

“And how does the Electra complex present?” he asks, voice a rasp.

“Girls desire their father. View mother as rival. Crave male attention to resolve the conflict.”

He tugs you forward. “And what are you craving right now, baby?”

You whisper, “You.”

His breath hitches. “Say it louder.”

“I want you,” you plead. “Please—”

“Shh.” He smirks. “Still two stages left.”

You sob out a laugh. “I can’t—”

“You can. Be my good girl.”

You breathe hard, trying to steady yourself.

“Latency stage,” you say shakily. “Six to twelve. Sexual urges go dormant. Focus shifts to intellectual pursuits—school, friendships…”

He smirks. “Might be your weakest stage. You’re not doing much studying.”

“Shut up,” you mutter.

He pinches your thigh. “Don’t brat.”

You whimper.

“And the last?”

“Genital stage,” you gasp. “Puberty onward. Mature sexual interests. Healthy development depends on resolving earlier conflicts.”

He hums. “Think you’re in the genital stage now?”

“Cheol…”

“Answer.”

“Yes,” you whine. “Please—”

He drops to his knees.

You barely have time to breathe before his mouth is on you—tongue sliding over your soaked folds, lips sealing around your clit. You cry out, legs twitching, thighs clenching around his head.

“Fuck—Cheol—”

His grip on your hips tightens as he devours you. Long licks, firm pressure, alternating with soft sucks that make your vision blur. You buck against his mouth, already so close it’s unbearable.

And just when you're about to come—

He pulls back.

You sob.

“Did I say you could finish?” he asks, mouth slick with your arousal.

You shake your head furiously. “No—please—I’ll be good—”

He’s about to go back in when—

Click.

The door opens.

You freeze.

Seungcheol freezes.

A soft male voice stammers from the back of the room: “Shit—oh my god—I didn’t—I didn’t know someone was—”

It’s Jun.

The quiet kid who always seems to hover near the back row. Always early to class. Always scribbling in the margins of his psych readings. Never the type to make a sound unless directly called on.

And now—

He's standing in the open doorway of the lecture hall.

Backpack slung on one shoulder. Eyes wide.

And those eyes are locked onto you.

Propped up on the professor’s desk.

Skirt hitched above your waist.

Seungcheol’s head still between your thighs.

Your whole body seizes, and your first instinct is to shove your skirt down, scramble off the desk, and disappear into the floor.

But Seungcheol?

He doesn’t even flinch.

His head lifts, tongue slow against his bottom lip, savoring the taste of your arousal like it’s honey. He

doesn’t even bother wiping his mouth.

His hand stays possessively on your thigh as he turns lazily toward the door.

“You're early,” he says to Jun, voice calm. Almost amused.

Jun opens his mouth. Closes it.

Then: “I—I left my laptop charger. In the front row, I thought no one—”

“You saw plenty.”

Jun flushes violently, about to step back. “I’m so sorry—I’ll leave, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t,” Seungcheol says, voice suddenly sharp.

Jun freezes.

You, breathless and still dizzy from the orgasm Seungcheol just ripped from you moments ago, blink down at him. “Cheol—?”

Seungcheol’s gaze flicks to you. And it softens, just enough. “You okay?”

Your voice is hoarse. “Y-Yeah.”

“Color?”

“Still green.”

That earns a smile. One he throws over his shoulder toward Jun next.

“You interrupted an exam,” Seungcheol says. “It’s only polite you stay for the rest.”

Jun visibly swallows. “Wait, what?”

Seungcheol stands fully now, brushing his palm along your thigh. His fingers are wet with you, and you feel heat climb back into your chest at the thought of how visible it all is.

“Don’t worry,” Seungcheol tells Jun smoothly, “you don’t have to participate. You just get front row seats.”

Jun looks between the two of you—your blown-out expression, your trembling thighs, the wetness glistening on Seungcheol’s chin.

“I—” he stammers. “She… wants that?”

Seungcheol steps aside, letting you have the floor.

His voice drops. “It’s her choice.”

You swallow thickly, pulse roaring in your ears.

You don’t even look at Jun.

Your eyes stay on Seungcheol.

And you whisper, “Yes.”

His smile turns downright feral. “Good girl.”

“Back on the desk,” he orders.

You do as told—shaky legs lifting as you ease back into position, skirt riding up again, your pussy still twitching from the last round.

He bends over you again. Mouth so close you can feel the heat of it against your core. You glance past him now, to the row of seats where Jun has quietly sunk into the corner desk, his laptop charger now forgotten on the floor by his feet.

He’s leaning forward, expression unreadable, legs slightly apart, hands in his lap.

Watching.

You feel the burn of humiliation lick at the edges of your stomach—and then melt, replaced by something darker. Filthier. Hotter.

Seungcheol starts slow this time. Deliberately slow.

He presses open-mouthed kisses along the inside of your thigh, working his way up, dragging his tongue just shy of where you need it. His breath is warm. His grip is firm.

“You hear that?” he murmurs. “He’s watching how sweet you look like this. Spread open. Dripping. Needy.”

You moan.

“And you love it. Don’t you?” His lips brush your clit—just once. “You love being watched.”

You don’t want to say it. You can’t say it.

But your hips lift, chasing his mouth.

Your body betrays you.

Seungcheol chuckles darkly. “Knew it.”

Then he finally puts his mouth on you again—and this time, there’s no mercy.

He licks and sucks with intention, with heat, his nose bumping your clit as he tongues your entrance. Your thighs are shaking, your toes curling against the cool wood of the desk. You try to bite your hand to stay quiet, but he catches your wrist and pins it to your side.

“No hiding,” he growls. “Be loud for me.”

And god—you are.

Your moans echo through the empty room, bouncing off the walls, reverberating between the seats. Jun doesn’t make a sound, but you can feel his stare—hot and focused and fixed right where Seungcheol is licking you apart.

And then—without warning—Cheol adds a finger.

Then two.

He fucks them into you slowly, curling just right, tongue circling your clit as your orgasm builds again, fast, like it’s sprinting up your spine.

You’re whimpering now, helpless. “Cheol—Cheol—I’m gonna—”

He doesn’t stop.

Your body bows. Your mouth drops open, and you come hard around his fingers, slick pouring out of you in waves. You’re crying out now—no control, no shame, nothing but pleasure and that filthy, heady knowledge that you’re being watched.

He pulls his fingers from you slowly, deliberately. Brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean, never breaking eye contact.

With Jun.

Then he looks at you again. “One more?”

Your head lolls back. “Please.”

He kisses your thigh gently.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Lesson’s not over yet

Seungcheol doesn’t let you breathe long.

He stands, slowly pushing his hoodie sleeves back up his forearms, then grabs your waist with both hands and spins you around on the desk.

Now you’re bent forward, cheek against the cool wood, eyes facing the classroom.

Facing Jun

His knuckles are white around the edge of the seat. His face flushed, eyes locked on the slick mess between your thighs. And the new shape of Seungcheol behind you—his belt already unbuckling with a quiet clink that echoes in your ears.

"Keep your legs spread, give him a good view of this pretty pussy," Seungcheol says behind you, voice calm, dangerous. “Back arched. Palms flat.”

You obey instantly.

You feel the head of his cock against your entrance, hot and heavy, teasing—just the tip brushing through your folds.

Then he leans forward over your back, mouth to your ear.

"You want him to see what a good girl looks like when she gets fucked for real?"

You moan, helplessly. “Yes.”

He thrusts in slow and deep—one smooth stroke—and you choke on a cry.

It’s too much, too thick, too intense after how sensitive you are from coming twice.

Your body clamps around him, involuntary, and he groans against your neck.

“God, you’re fucking tight. You love this, don’t you?”

You can’t speak. Just nod, barely holding yourself up as he starts to move—deep, strong strokes that push you forward on the desk.

And every sound—your breath, your wetness, the slap of skin against skin—is audible. Loud. Raw.

For Jun.

"Eyes up," Seungcheol orders. "I want you to look at him while I ruin you."

You lift your head—and meet Jun’s stare. He’s breathing heavily now. His pants are tight across his lap. But he hasn’t moved his hands.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Seungcheol growls without even turning around. “You haven’t earned that.”

Jun stiffens in his seat. “Y-Yes, sir.”

You gasp—sir.

Seungcheol smirks. “Oh? He learns quick.”

He fucks you harder.

You whimper, body shaking, struggling to keep your eyes on Jun, but the humiliation—the arousal—keeps you pinned in place.

Then Seungcheol stops.

You sob at the loss of friction.

And hear the shuffle of paper.

He’s grabbed your flashcards.

He flips one. Reads it.

“Define ‘reaction formation,’” he says casually.

You blink, dazed. “W-What?”

He thrusts in sharply. You yelp.

“Define it.”

You scramble for the answer. “It’s—a defense mechanism. When someone behaves in a way that’s opposite of their actual feelings.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, rolling his hips deeper. “Example?”

“Someone—” You moan. “Someone hating someone, but acting overly friendly.”

“Mm. Like pretending you’re innocent when you really want to be used like a toy?” he coos.

You whimper, thighs trembling.

Seungcheol turns around.

“Jun. Get up.”

Jun hesitates—then obeys, walking slowly down the aisle toward the front.

You tense.

Seungcheol notices.

“Color?”

You whisper, “Green.”

He nods. “Good.”

“Closer,” he tells Jun. “Stand right here.”

Jun stops beside the desk. You can’t even look at him—face flushed, body exposed, Seungcheol buried deep inside you.

“Hold the flashcards,” Seungcheol says.

Jun takes them with shaky fingers.

“Read the next one.”

Jun swallows. “Uh. ‘Displacement.’”

Seungcheol pulls out halfway and slams back in. You sob.

“Displacement,” you pant. “When someone takes out their emotions on a safer target. Like—yelling at your roommate when you're mad at your professor.”

Seungcheol hums, lips brushing your shoulder. “Guess you’re the target now, huh?”

“Next card,” he commands.

Jun fumbles. “Um—‘Transference.’”

You try to focus, body twitching from the rhythm of Seungcheol’s thrusts, your slick pouring down your thighs.

“Transference is—” you moan, “redirecting feelings meant for one person onto another. Like… projecting parental issues onto a therapist.”

Seungcheol grunts. “Or a professor’s desk, maybe.”

He grabs your wrists, pins them behind your back with one hand. His other hand curls around your throat, gently but firmly.

“Jun,” he says, calm. “Describe what you see.”

Jun chokes. “I—she’s bent over. Y-You’re—fucking her. Her thighs are shaking.”

“Her pussy?” Seungcheol growls. “What’s it doing?”

Jun’s voice is nearly a whisper. “It’s… wet. It’s gripping you.”

“Good,” Seungcheol says darkly. “Now watch what happens when I tell her not to come.”

He leans down to your ear. “You don’t come until I say.”

You bite your lip hard. “Yes, sir.”

And then he ruins you.

He pounds into you harder, rougher, the desk creaking beneath your hips. Your moans are sobs now, pleasure high and sharp, right at the edge—but held back, barely.

“Beg,” he growls.

“Please, please, please—” you chant. “I need to come, sir, please—I’ll be good—”

He slams into you deep and stills.

“Come.”

You break apart.

A scream wrenched from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you—blinding, body-wrecking, wet and messy and loud.

Seungcheol fucks you through it until you collapse against the desk, limp and twitching.

Jun is still frozen at your side, panting, sweating.

“Put the cards down,” Seungcheol tells him. “You’re done.”

Jun obeys silently.

Seungcheol kisses your shoulder, then your cheek.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

You nod slowly. “Still green.”

He smiles. “God, you’re perfect.”

Then he turns to Jun.

“Leave,” he says. “And keep your mouth shut. About everything.”

Jun blinks. “Y-Yeah. Of course.”

And then he’s gone—almost running out of the room—leaving you panting and dripping on the professor’s desk, with Seungcheol still inside you, smiling like the devil.

He slowly pulls out, hands steadying your hips as he helps you sit up — not rushing, not letting go until you’re upright and leaning back against his chest. You’re still trembling, thighs sticky and soaked, mascara smudged under your eyes, your blouse halfway undone. You feel used. Exposed.

And utterly adored.

He strokes your hair and plants a soft kiss on your forehead.

“You were so good, babygirl”

Seungcheol breathes hard, smirking.

“Today's lesson is over”

_______________________________________________________

tagging everyone who requested part 2:

@cherrylovescheol @coffee4koo @sseungcheols

[bee-taylorsversion]

STUDY BREAK (18+)

Synopsis: A late-night study session with your sexy, sharp-tongued study partner turns into a game of control when he quizzes you with pop questions, punishing wrong answers with teasing touches and threats. What was supposed to be studying quickly becomes an erotic lesson in submission and power.

Themes: study partners, college setting, psychology majors, study sessions turning into intimate encounters, power play, teasing and edging, control and submission, sexual tension, public risk, control, obedience

Pairing: seungcheol x female reader (both psychology majors)

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, power imbalances, public setting (library), oral sex, fingering, edging and orgasm control

Word count: 1.9k

Minors dni!

PART 2 : STUDY BREAK (ORAL EXAM)

_______________________________________________________

It’s close to midnight when Seungcheol finally shows up.

He’s ten minutes late, again, with his hoodie pulled low and his hair still damp from a shower. You pretend you don’t notice the way he smells—like soap and warm skin and something a little too clean for the things running through your head.

“You already started without me?” he asks, throwing his bag on the chair across from mine.

“You were late,” you say flatly, not looking up.

He laughs, the deep kind that vibrates low in his throat. “Someone’s cranky.”

“I’m focused.”

“Mm. We’ll see how long that lasts.”

The words are offhand, but his gaze lingers. There’s something about the way he says it—how casual his voice is while his eyes roam over you like he already knows what’s going to happen.

You cross your legs under the table, gripping your pen a little tighter.

He takes his seat. You start reviewing. At first, it’s normal—terms, definitions, case studies. But then…

“Define operant conditioning,” he says, leaning in just slightly.

“Reinforcement or punishment used to increase or decrease a behavior,” you reply automatically.

“Good girl.”

You freeze.

He says it so softly you're not sure you heard him right. But when you glance up, he’s looking at you—really looking.

“You—what did you just say?”

Seungcheol smiles. “Just giving feedback. Positive reinforcement.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Call you a good girl?” His voice drops. “Does it bother you?”

“It’s distracting.”

“Interesting,” he says, folding his arms behind his head. “Because it looked like you liked it.”

Your pulse kicks up. The room is too quiet. Too private. It’s the end of the semester, and most of campus is asleep or wired on caffeine in another building. We’re in a back corner study room, half the lights off, no one walking by.

You should shut this down. You should get back to your notes. But then his foot slides under the table and touches yours. Light. Testing.

“Want to play a game?” he murmurs.

Your hand stills. Your mouth is dry. “No games. We’re behind.”

“Then let’s multitask.” His eyes flash. “For every correct answer, I reward you. For every mistake…” He smiles slowly. “You get punished.”

You know you should say no. Should roll your eyes and go back to reviewing. But your thighs are already pressing together under the table, breath catching in your throat.

You glance up. “How are you defining ‘reward’ and ‘punish’?”

His gaze drags down your face, your chest, your legs.

“Why don’t we find out?”

You swallow hard and nod once.

He leans back in his chair, arms folded, legs wide.

He smiles like he’s been waiting for this.

“Question one: What’s the difference between positive and negative reinforcement?”

You blink, recite from memory. “Positive reinforcement adds a stimulus to increase behavior. Negative reinforcement removes something to increase behavior.”

His smile deepens. “Good girl.”

The words slide under your skin like silk.

You’re not prepared for the way his foot slips under the table, brushing your calf, sliding up, slow and deliberate. You suck in a breath.

“That’s your reward,” he says. “Next.”

You barely have time to recover.

“Question two: Define punishment in behavioral terms.”

You hesitate, fingers tightening around your pen. “Punishment… decreases behavior. Positive punishment adds an unpleasant stimulus. Negative removes a positive one.”

His foot presses between your legs, nudging your knees apart.

“That hesitation cost you.”

You stiffen.

He leans forward, dark eyes locked on yours. “Don’t close them. Keep your legs where I put them.”

You obey, your breath catching when his toe presses lightly against your inner thigh.

“Third question. Define fixed ratio schedule.”

You’re panting now, trying to think. “It’s… reinforcement given after a specific number of responses.”

“Correct.”

This time it’s not his foot—it’s his hand, sliding under the table, fingers skimming the bare skin just above your knee. You’re hyper aware of every brush, every shift of his knuckles.

“Shorts?” he murmurs. “Or skirt?”

You meet his gaze, throat dry. “Skirt.”

“Fuck.” He closes his eyes briefly, like he's holding himself back. “You really are trying to test me.”

His fingers drift higher.

“Fourth question. Describe the concept of learned helplessness.”

You try. You swear you try. But all you can focus on is the heat of his palm against your thigh, creeping higher, tracing the crease where your leg meets your hip.

“W–when an individual… is exposed to inescapable negative stimuli, they stop trying to escape, even when a solution is present.”

His fingers pause just short of your underwear.

“Very good,” he murmurs. “So smart.”

You’re aching. Slick between your thighs. And he hasn’t even really touched you yet.

His thumb strokes along the waistband of your panties. The featherlight touch makes your breath hitch.

“Next one,” he says. “Ready?”

You nod, swallowing hard.

“Name two famous behaviorists.”

“Skinner and… Watson.”

“Good girl,” he whispers, and this time he rewards you with a single, slow stroke over your clothed core. You twitch in your seat, biting your lip to keep from making a sound.

“Oh, you liked that.” His fingers repeat the motion. “You’re so wet already, baby. I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You shift in your seat, thighs tightening. “Cheol, we can’t—”

“We can,” he cuts in, voice a command now. “No one’s coming in this late. And you’re the one begging for attention with those pretty little skirts.”

“I wasn’t—”

He cuts you off with a soft, dark laugh, leaning in. “You wore lace under that skirt to a study session. You wanted to be touched.”

Your cheeks burn. He’s right.

And when his fingers slip past the lace this time—bare skin to bare heat—you forget how to breathe.

He groans, the sound deep and quiet. “Fuck. You're soaked.”

“Cheol—”

“I told you.” He sinks a single finger in, slow and teasing. “Get the answers right, and I’ll give you what you want. Get them wrong…”

He pulls his hand away. Cold. Empty.

“…and you’ll have to beg.”

You whimper, chasing his hand instinctively.

The smirk he gives you is pure sin.

“Last question. Get this right, and I’ll make you come right here, right now.”

You stare at him, shaking slightly, thighs slick and trembling.

“Define conditioned stimulus.”

You open your mouth. Nothing comes out. His hand hovers just above your cunt, waiting.

“One…”

You panic. “A—a previously neutral stimulus… that, after association with the unconditioned one, triggers the same response.”

His hand sinks back down. Two fingers this time. Crooked just right.

“Correct.”

And just like that, you fall to pieces—back arched, breath ragged, his name on your lips like a secret sin.

You try to stay quiet, really, you do.

But when his fingers start pumping in and out, slow and steady, curling just right, it’s impossible to keep still on his lap. Your hips roll instinctively, chasing the friction, grinding down as your thighs tremble around him.

“Fuck, you’re needy,” Seungcheol growls against your neck, voice barely above a whisper. “Dripping all over my hand in a goddamn study room.”

You bite your bottom lip, tasting skin, trying to suppress the moan clawing its way up your throat.

His free hand grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs your head back just enough so he can watch your face as he fucks you with his fingers. “Let them hear if you want,” he says, eyes dark. “Or be a good girl and stay quiet. Either way, you’re not leaving this chair until I feel you come.”

You dig your nails into his hoodie as your body shakes, that coil in your stomach twisting tighter and tighter. Every press of his thumb against your clit sends sparks flying. You’re soaked, whimpering into his shoulder, thighs clenching around his wrist as he works you through it.

“Cheol—please—”

“That’s it,” he mutters. “Come for me, sweetheart. Be loud. Be messy.”

You do. You fall apart right there in his lap, teeth sinking into his collarbone to muffle the broken gasp that spills from your lips as your orgasm hits hard and fast, making your whole body go tense and weightless at once.

By the time you catch your breath, your panties are ruined, and his fingers are glistening.

“You made a mess,” he smirks, sucking one finger into his mouth with a filthy groan. “We’re not done.”

He doesn’t give you time to recover. Doesn’t let you fix your hair or adjust your skirt. He just grabs your bag, presses a kiss to your cheek like you’re some innocent girl he’s walking home, and guides you out of the library with his hand on your lower back like he owns you.

When you finally reach his dorm, he doesn’t even turn on the lights. He locks the door, pins you to it, and kisses you like he’s been waiting all semester to ruin you.

And he does.

He strips you slow—fingers tracing every inch of skin he uncovers like he’s studying you now—and when he finally peels your panties off completely, he brings them to his nose with a groan, then pockets them like a trophy.

“You’re gonna ride me,” he says, voice rough as he pulls his hoodie off and sinks onto the edge of his bed, jeans undone, cock thick and hard in his fist. “Nice and slow. Show me how much you really learned tonight.”

You climb onto him, thighs sore, cunt still throbbing from earlier. His hands grip your hips as you sink down, and the stretch steals your breath. He’s thick. Hot. Heavy. Every inch of him fills you up perfectly.

You start slow, bouncing gently, rolling your hips the way he taught you to move, but Seungcheol clearly has other plans.

“Not like that,” he snaps, slapping your ass. “You teased me all week wearing those short skirts. Begging for my attention in those tight little study group outfits. You don’t get to take it slow.”

He grabs your wrists, pulling them behind your back and holding them with one hand, while the other grabs your throat—not tight, but firm enough to make you moan.

“Now fuck me like you mean it.”

And you do.

You ride him hard, your thighs burning, tits bouncing, moans filling the dark room. His cock hits every sensitive spot, thick and perfect, dragging over your walls until you’re crying his name like a prayer.

“Touch yourself,” he growls. “Let me see how pretty you look falling apart on my cock.”

Your fingers find your clit, and with just a few messy circles, you’re unraveling again—legs shaking, cunt clenching tight around him as you come with a sharp cry.

“Good fucking girl,” he groans, and then he’s flipping you onto your back, hooking your legs over his shoulders and slamming back in, fucking you deep, hard, relentless. “One more,” he pants. “Give me one more.”

Your head lolls back, brain fogged with pleasure, body wrecked and begging. “Cheol—please, I can’t—”

“You can,” he says, biting down on your collarbone. “You will.”

You come again—shaking, sobbing, nails digging into his back as he finally lets go with a low, guttural growl, spilling inside you and holding you tight as he rides out every wave.

After, he doesn’t speak for a while.

Just pulls you into his chest, kisses your forehead, and strokes your hair as you lie tangled in the sheets, spent and dripping.

“Guess we’re doing another study session tomorrow,” he murmurs.

And the smirk in his voice makes you shiver all over again.

_______________________________________________________

Author's note: this smut may or may not have been a reaction to Scoups' met gala look. Sorry not sorry. I also may have gotten a little carried away and started writing the second part of this oneshot but I'll most probably not upload it.

[bee-taylorsversion]

Delphinium: Part Two

ao3 |   part one  | m.list

(del·phin·i·um /delˈfinēəm/) is a type of flower representative of spiritual growth and change in flower language.

⇢ please like, reblog, or leave feedback!

wordcount  → 23.045k

pairing→ Mark Lee x female reader

description → You should have known that when he said he loved you after such a small act of intimacy, he wasn’t thinking with his dick. Quite frankly, he didn’t know how to. You also should have known that by being his first, he probably wanted you to be his last.

content → religious mark, possessive behavior and jealousy, loss of virginity, pagan reader, a lot of fluff, coming to terms, happy ending, smut obviously, mark falls in love violently and deliberately, all characters in this fic are in their 20s

note → This part is not stand alone; you need to read the first part to understand.

 not proof read bc im not about that life. 

It’s also a lot less religion heavy since they’d established some sort of thing between each other. In other words, that hurdle has already been jumped over.

tag list → @kpop-crap​, @coffee-prince-kyungsoo​, @fullsun-dreams​, @resceluwu​, @fanficbitchwhowriteskpop, @cumtrov3rsy​, @97jaehyunn​, @ahgastayzen​,

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[bee-taylorsversion]

Delphinium.

ao3 |  part two | m.list

(del·phin·i·um /delˈfinēəm/) is a type of flower representative of spiritual growth and change in flower language.

⇢ minors dni, otherwise please like, reblog, and leave feedback!

wordcount  → 16.345k 

pairing→ Mark Lee x female reader

description → It wasn’t intentional. You don’t even know why you cared that he didn’t believe in pre-marital sex, but it didn’t stop you from arguing with him about it. You didn’t intend to win the argument either. Then again, he kind of let you.

warnings  → virgin religious mark, pagan reader, mentions of questioning faith, un-holy behavior, coming to terms, making out, holding hands, mark’s first ever orgasm, all characters in this fic are in their 20s, slight mentions of semi-homophobia, premature ejaculation, mark falls in love after half a blow-job, slight angst

n o t e → This is not meant to offend anyone. If you are highly religious, I urge you not to read this fic. Reader is not pressing him in any way, nor does she attempt to convert him. It’s mostly just a lot of Mark opening to different religious views. He does not leave his religion.

not proof read bc fuck that shit 

Keep reading

[bee-taylorsversion]

‘til god breaks this spell

joshua's devotion to you rivals his devotion to his god.

♫ spell by niki pairing: joshua x fem!reader word count: 4.6k cw: a lot of religious reflection (catholicism) tags: childhood best friends, angst, not the happy ending you probably want sorry, the one that got away, joshua is a good catholic boy, reader is atheist a/n: the very first fic i wrote was a bts jinkook fic that was inspired by la la lost you by niki. seems fitting that i start my svt writing journey with another niki inspired song hehe. other than that, idk what compelled me to torture myself (and now you) like this. also, this was written in one, flustered go so it's barely edited oops!

“mom, what would you do if i married someone who didn’t believe in god?”

joshua’s mother immediately set her novel down, glasses slipping down her nose as she frowned at her one and only son. he didn’t look up at her, choosing to stare down at his hands instead while he twirled the friendship ring he shared with you around his pinkie finger.

“married?” she repeated. “i wasn’t even aware you had someone in your life.”

he shook his head quickly, frowning down at his open palm as he began to massage it nervously. “i don’t. i’m just… curious, i guess.”

it might be silly to be as worried about this as he is, seeing as things haven’t progressed into a relationship yet, but he’d rather figure this out now and say nothing than risk it, go all in, and then cause unnecessary pain later on.

his mother stays silent long enough that he forces himself to look at her. her eyes are no longer on him, instead seemingly zoning out on the space straight ahead. he follows her gaze and grimaces when he realizes she’s staring at the wooden carving of the last supper hung on the wall.

“i wouldn’t do anything,” she begins carefully. “you’re a grown man, after all. but i would worry that marrying a partner who didn’t believe in god—any god at all—would make you stray from your own faith.”

it’s a diplomatic answer and he expected it; his mom has always been supportive of him, always allowing him the space and freedom to make his own mistakes and learn from them—or not.

“so you’d prefer i marry catholic?”

“i mean, of course, but that’s not what i said, was it?” his mom retorts, giving him a pointed look. she knew joshua had a way of misunderstanding a lot of the things she told him. “i would prefer you marry catholic the way i would prefer you marry at all—nice to have but if you don’t, it’s not the end of the world.”

joshua nods, feeling a little bit of the tightness in his chest dissipate.

“i would just hope you think about it long and hard enough to know that you won’t compromise any of your own beliefs for someone who lives without a god,” she emphasizes.

joshua mulls that idea over. is his faith strong enough to withstand a lifelong partner who didn’t share his belief and love for god?

he wants to say yes. it’s you—of course he wants to say yes. you’ve been friends your whole lives, and he’s been in love with you for most of that time. of course he wants his answer to be: yes, my faith will survive a relationship with an atheist.

but he thinks about the conversations you’ve already had years ago, and the tightness in his chest returns tenfold.

is there anything that could happen that would make you believe in god?

probably not. it just seems too convenient that there’s someone out there in charge of everyone’s lives.

would you marry someone religious?

i don’t know. i guess it depends on the person. i don’t think i’d participate or convert or anything if i did, though.

what about kids? would you baptize them if you did marry someone religious?

dude, what’s with the interrogation? i don’t know! if it’s important to my partner, maybe? but i’d be most comfortable just letting my kids figure it out themselves. can we watch a movie now?

and each time you answered his question, instead of accepting that maybe there was a major incompatibility between the two of you, joshua would find himself thinking of the things he could compromise on.

okay, sure, he doesn’t need you to convert or participate; he’s already been going to church his entire adult life so far without anyone accompanying him. and if you didn’t want children baptized, that’s fine too! adults go through catholic confirmation later in life all the time! so what if you thought that the idea of a “big guy” controlling everyone’s lives was weird? he could just refrain from talking about that around you… or correcting your line of thinking because it’s a bit of a gross oversimplification of catholicism.

and as he sits there, his mother already back to her novel, he realizes his faith isn’t strong enough to survive you. because his love for you has become somewhat of its own religion to him, and if it came down to a question of his faith to you or his faith to god, he has to be honest with himself and admit that his mother’s fears are valid. he would put it all on the line if it meant being with you.

and he can’t do that.

he’s committed all kinds of sins by now. he’s been flexible in his beliefs—supportive and progressive in areas where other catholics have been unforgiving and in his opinion, outdated and bigoted. he’s compromised a lot at no cost to him or his god. but he can’t completely lose everything he’s known and loved for you. he can’t lose himself to you.

he can't forget that it isn't fair to you either—to have to try and appease him and his religion. he'd be doing you both a mercy, letting this spark die before it ever really takes flame.

joshua leaves his mother’s house knowing one thing is for sure: it’s time to let this dream of having you go.

the end is short and uneventful.

you two had only kissed once, and things hadn’t gone far enough for either of you to confess your feelings—whatever they were. so when joshua told you he thought it was better to stay best friends, you took it like a champ and agreed, smiling and hugging him tightly, promising him that nothing would change.

the end was short and uneventful, yet somehow the most devastating thing joshua has experienced. he had you. you were right there. he had a whole life with you in his palm, and he let it go.

he hates himself for it, but he saw it all. the moment his lips met yours, he saw hands intertwined together, late nights, car rides with his hand on your thigh, hugs from behind while he cooked for you, a suit and a white dress, a small, innocent face that looked like the both of you—your smile, his eyes.

and he feels like maybe you saw it too.

because when you both pulled away, you looked up at him like this was it—like you had just run a marathon and you had reached the finish line. like you’d grabbed his hand and crossed it with him. you smiled widely, wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, and caressed the skin there as your foreheads met. and you fell asleep wrapped up in each other like it was where you were both meant to be.

maybe you saw it too. and now he’s the reason it’ll stay a dream.

you stay true to your promise. joshua is almost saddened by how easy it seems for you to revert back to being only friends. every time he sees you, hears you, brushes up against you, he feels like his heart is cracking wide open and the world might just end at that very moment. it’s dramatic but he can’t wrap his mind around any other way to exist.

it hurts for a while, but the years pass a little easier.

he watches you date, and even though he’s secretly and unfairly relieved every time you throw someone else to the curb, he takes it well. he meets some of them and welcomes them warmly, agreeing to hang out with you and whoever you’re dating any time you ask him to. he even thinks one or two of them could give you a good life; he can live thinking of you with these ones forever. but you inevitably leave them behind and he hates that it makes him happy to watch you shake off a good guy that isn’t him.

just as he planned, joshua’s faith remains strong. he goes to church. he volunteers with his mom and her bible study friends. he sings and plays guitar on the praise and worship team from time to time. he meets a a catholic woman he thinks could be a match for him. he never asks her out. he politely declines when she musters up the courage to do it herself.

he thinks this could be fine. maybe he’ll be single forever and maybe you’ll find some average guy he can stomach, and his love for his god and for your happiness will keep him warm enough at night.

but then, you meet kwon soonyoung.

you’ve never been one to fall and tell; most of the time, joshua doesn’t know you’re dating someone until you decide it’s time to get his stamp of approval. he knows soonyoung is different from the jump.

your time starts to get tied up. it starts with only seeing him sporadically throughout the month instead of almost every day. it becomes rescheduling all your hangouts until you’re only seeing each other briefly at mutual friends’ events. it ends with missed calls and ignored texts.

he’s driving himself crazy wondering what’s going on, and when you post a photo on your story of a dinner date with a faceless man, he understands what’s happening. you’re falling in love. and he knows it because you never have—not truly—and this is what it must look like.

you don’t fall and tell, but joshua knows you too well to pretend it’s anything but this. he doesn’t try to take up any more of your time out of respect, and you don’t reach out.

you prove him right when a few months later, you bring soonyoung to a friend’s dinner party, and you introduce him as your boyfriend. it hits joshua like a truck. you’ve never introduced someone to him as a boyfriend. he’s always met the people you’ve dated before it progressed that far. he also had the privilege of meeting them privately, not with the rest of the friend group, none of who are privy to the way his heart collapses in on itself when he watches the way you lean into soonyoung all night. the way you laugh with him. the way his eyes disappear from how fondly he smiles at you. the way he seems to fit right into your life so perfectly.

you hug joshua tightly that night before leaving, and you tell him you miss him so much and you two need to catch up soon. neither of you follow up, though, and a year later, you’re engaged.

the week before joshua is due at your wedding as a guest—not your “man-of-honor” the way you’ve always planned your entire life—he gets completely shit-faced drunk.

he’s sitting on the sidewalk in front of a puddle of his own vomit when you quietly sit beside him, slipping your arm around his shoulders. he doesn’t know why you’re there. he doesn’t know if he’s hallucinating. he smiles anyway.

“hey, you.”

“hey, shua,” you whisper, smiling at him sadly. “what are you doing?”

“oh, y’know,” he shrugs, grinning at himself pathetically. “just hanging out.”

you hum, nodding.

“what are you doing here?” he asks.

you look at him with an inscrutable expression. “i just wanted to see you,” you answer. “i wanted to see my best friend.”

“am i?” he asks, looking up at the sky. the moon is covered by clouds tonight. “your best friend?”

“of course. you always will be.”

he smiles at the thought. he’s too drunk to realize there’s no possible way that’s true, not since soonyoung came into your life. he’s too drunk to remember there’s no room in your life for another man who’s just as hopelessly in love with you as your fiance is.

“say, do you believe in god yet?” he asks suddenly.

you raise an eyebrow at the suddenness of the question. “um, i haven’t thought about it lately.”

he nods. “okay.”

“joshua, what are you doing here?” you ask again. “what are you really doing here?”

he doesn’t remember what he tells you. what he does remember is waking up in the room he grew up in instead of his apartment, with his mother at the foot of his childhood bed, tears welling in her eyes.

“was it y/n?” she asks.

he frowns. “what?”

“when you asked what i would do if you married someone who didn’t believe in god all those years ago,” she explains, sniffling a little as she does. “were you talking about y/n?”

he doesn’t answer.

the events of the previous night catch up to him, and he remembers where he is—where his life is. he’s a handful of days from watching you marry someone else. he’s a handful of days from losing the one person he’s ever fallen in love with to someone else.

and all joshua has to show for it is his goddamn faith, and suddenly, for the first time since he asked his mother that question, he’s not sure it was worth it. because either way, he knows he’ll be devoted to you until the day he dies; he might as well have had you by his side all this time.

he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. when he fails, he can’t help the sobs that begin to rack his body.

he buries the heel of his hands into his eyes until he sees stars.

“she’s marrying him,” he groans through his sobs. “she’s marrying him, mom.”

“oh, joshua. i know.” he feels his mom’s hand squeeze his leg. “oh, baby, i’m so sorry.”

“i can’t do this. i can’t do it,” he wheezes, feeling like his lungs are collapsing under the weight of his ribs. “why did i do this? i can’t do this.”

she doesn’t try to convince him he can do this. she doesn’t try to argue that he didn’t do anything wrong. she doesn’t tell him to calm down. she collects him in her arms and she holds him, comforting him the way only a mother knows how to.

when he starts to calm down, she kisses the crown of his head.

“the pain you must’ve endured all this time. i’m so sorry, joshua. if i had known who you were talking about, i would’ve said something entirely different.”

he untangles himself from her embrace to look at his mother. “what do you mean?”

she wipes at her own tear-stained cheeks before cupping her son’s face. “oh, sweetheart. it’s y/n. you grew up with her. i know her like i would my own daughter.”

his mother shakes her head and joshua feels like he sees all his regret mirrored in her face. she pulls him to sit against the wall his bed is pushed up against, joining him as they both stare out the opposite window.

“there are some people who lead godly lives without even knowing it,” she informs him. “you say she doesn’t believe in god, but i don’t believe you.” his stomach lurches. “that girl has lived as godly a life as you and i have. she doesn’t need to be catholic to do that, baby. you know her. there isn’t a single universe where that girl would’ve led you away from your faith.”

joshua stammers now. “but… i…”

“all the sundays she tagged along for mass with us because she just wanted to be with her best friend when she could’ve been out on the playgrounds,” his mother begins listing. “she always respectfully bowed her head when we prayed before meals even though we both knew she wasn’t praying.”

his head is reeling now. is it possible he rewrote his own memories? could he have created his own narrative of what life with you would look like?

“remember when you were both 14 and she learned what lent was? she tried giving up soda and ended up crying, begging me for forgiveness when she forgot and accidentally had coke with her school lunch.”

his mother’s shoulders shake with nostalgic laughter.

“you would’ve thought i was god the way that girl wailed,” she reminisces. she sighs in the silence that follows. “joshua, my son. some people… they show you they love god in a way different than we do, and it’s my fault i never properly taught you that.”

he turns his head to look at her but her gaze remains trained on the window. he sees now that it’s not his regret she mirrors but her own.

“i think i was too preoccupied with ensuring i raised you to be a good, catholic man—too preoccupied with making sure you didn’t become anything like your father.”

he breathes in deeply and returns his focus to the window.

“but i should’ve made it clear. i should’ve shown you that god exists in all the little acts of love we give and receive. i should’ve shown you that organized religion isn’t the only marker of faith.” she pauses, taking a shaky breath. “maybe then you would’ve recognized y/n as a woman of god. maybe then you wouldn’t be so hurt now.”

the words are enough to make joshua even more nauseous than his hangover is already making him.

“y/n… she shows godliness in the way she respects you and your beliefs. she shows it in the way she supports and loves you through every season of your life. it’s unfair to say she isn’t good enough for you because her faith lies in a different place.”

“i never thought she wasn’t good enough for me,” he interjects quickly. his mom doesn’t argue that, simply nodding. “she’s perfect. i just… i thought we were incompatible.”

“and maybe you are,” she agrees.

she doesn’t need to say it out loud; they both know what comes next. but now you’ll never know.

“i just wanted to apologize,” his mom tells him, taking his hand in hers and squeezing. “i feel like i’ve failed you.”

“you haven’t, mom,” he says quietly. “i failed me.”

“we’ll agree to disagree,” she announces, making him smile a little. “but i’m sorry anyway. there are a lot of things i’d change now if i could.”

he feels the familiar tightness in his chest. it’s his companion at this point, the heartbreak. “me too, mom. me too.”

joshua played with your hair from where he was laying on your couch. you were sitting criss-cross in front of him on the floor, clicking through netflix and trying to find a movie you both wanted to watch.

"is there anything that could happen that would make you believe in god?" he suddenly asked you. you frowned at the abrupt question, setting the remote down on the floor.

"that's random."

"just curious," he murmured softly, like he was so relaxed he was about to fall asleep.

"hmm," you hummed in thought, resting your head back so you could stare at the ceiling. he adjusted your hair so it fell over his lap. "like what, some kind of miracle that can only be explained by god?"

he shrugged. "sure. whatever."

"probably not..." you answered with hesitation. "i can't really think of a kind of miracle that would have me questioning god, though."

"like, if someone you loved were given a terminal diagnosis—three months to live. and suddenly, their illness clears up with no explanation. even doctors are astounded. what would you think?"

you shrugged. "i would be too happy they're not dying to question how it happened." he blew out a breath of exasperation. "okay, okay," you laughed, trying to figure out a more definite answer for him. "no, i don't think there's anything that could happen. it just seems too convenient that there's someone out there in charge of everyone's lives."

he nodded along but said nothing. you fidgeted in the silence. the quiet wasn't something the two of you ever shied from; it was always comfortable with joshua. for some reason, you felt awkward. so you kept talking to fill the silence.

"i think i could be open to believing something, though," you admitted honestly. "i just don't want to get to a place where i would blame this... thing or person for the things going wrong in my life. but that's just me. i still love that people believe so strongly in it. faith is a beautiful thing."

joshua taught you that. faith withstood a lot of things, and your best friend was the prime example. nothing was quite as beautiful as his love for his religion, his god, his spirituality. even if it scared you sometimes—even if it unintentionally made you feel too small to be someone lucky enough to have joshua's heart—you knew it was still precious.

"would you marry someone religious?"

you snorted. "where are these questions coming from?"

"indulge me."

you sighed, closing your eyes and enjoying the way his fingers carded through your hair. "that's so hard to answer without knowing who it is. it depends on the person. i can't make a decision based solely on how religious they are."

"okay, i guess that's fair." he paused. "would you ever convert for someone?"

"i don't think so?" you said, hating how unsure you sounded answering all of these questions. "but who knows? i really can't say for sure without knowing who it is, shua. how about you? would you marry someone who wasn't religious?"

your heart pounded at the silence that followed.

"it depends on the person," he finally said with a playful tone.

you rolled your eyes. "exactly."

"alright, what about kids?"

"shua, why are you interrogating me right now?"

he snickered. "i'm having a conversation with my best friend. is that not allowed?"

you lifted your head and turned to glare at him, your hair slipping between his fingers. he dropped his hand now that he had nothing to play with. he raised his eyebrows at you slightly.

"of course it's allowed," you scoffed. "it's just... so out of nowhere."

"well?" he prodded, ignoring your comments.

"okay, what about kids?" you relented.

"would you baptize them if you did marry someone religious?"

you laughed. "so much religion talk tonight."

he didn't dignify that with a response.

you groaned, again having no idea. if you took all these questions and made them about joshua, they would be a million times easier to answer. but he wasn't asking about himself, he was asking about some faceless, nameless nobody, and you weren't invested enough to answer accurately.

"i don't know... if it's important to my partner, then of course i would consider it," you finally said. "but i guess i'd be most comfortable just letting my kids figure it out themselves."

"that's wise," he remarked.

"mhm, sure" you hummed. "can we watch a movie now? i'll even let you choose an anime if you stop asking questions that make me sweaty."

he smirked and nodded. "okay, come up here, though."

you joined him on the couch and you spent the rest of the night binging anime episodes. you wouldn't be able to say what you watched, though, because the entire time, your mind was stuck on what the answers would've been if they were about joshua.

the end is long and beautiful.

you marry kwon soonyoung in front of all your loved ones, and you do it knowing full well this man will give you the happiest life. you spend the night eating the food you both painstakingly chose together, dancing to songs recommended by your guests on their RSVPs, and laughing so hard, tears stream down both of your faces.

and when you sidle up to your best friend as he leans on the bar, waiting for his drink, he has the strength to look happy for you. you’re sure he isn’t. at least not quite all the way.

“i’m happy you’re happy, y/n.”

you smile. “thank you, shua.” you pause, tilting your head a little in thought. you add: “for everything.”

“what’s everything?” he asks, smiling in confusion.

“for everything... for being my best friend all this time. loving me like you did. letting me love you," you list, ignoring the way his eyes widen at you. "most of all, i guess i just want to thank you for everything you gave up so we could be here,” you finish before placing a soft kiss on his cheek. you pull away, cupping his face, and smiling. “i’ll never forget it. thank you.”

you’re swept back onto the dance floor by your bridesmaids. it was a short exchange, but you know it was enough.

you’re not dumb. you knew what joshua had to give up so you could be here, happy, in love, and with the man perfect for you.

everything. he had to give up everything. he chose his devotion to god over his devotion to you, and you never faulted him for that because you knew it was a decision that would destroy him, and maybe it did at one point, having to bury his love as deep as he did.

you didn’t believe heaven was real, and still, he chose to love you until it hurt like hell and you knew it. there might have been a younger version of you that was heartbroken he couldn’t possibly imagine a life with you where you were capable of supporting his beliefs wholeheartedly regardless of yours. because you would have. you would have done everything in your power to make him feel loved while keeping his door to his god wide open.

there might have been a younger version of you that would’ve hated him for this.

but tonight, as you slow dance with your husband, feeling the safest you’ve felt in your entire life, all you can do is thank joshua hong for all the choices he made without asking you first.

ironically, because of him, you can see god now. you can see god in the way soonyoung holds you like you’re the most precious person in his life. you can see god in his patience and care. in his kindness. in his dedication to making you smile and laugh.

you’ve never seen god in a clearer light.

you think back to your last, honest night with joshua, on that deserted street, when he drunkenly called you.

“what are you really doing here?”

“i’m mourning,” he answered. “i’m mourning the life we could’ve had.” he frowned as tears began to fall down your face. “don’t cry. i don’t want to make you sad. i’m okay, i promise. i’ll be okay. i’m just letting you go now... for real this time.” he hiccuped. "for real, for real."

“you didn’t have to, you know,” you whispered.

“i think i did.”

you got him to his mother’s home that night, not wanting him to wake up alone with the weight of his sadness. you didn’t exchange many words, but you knew she knew. she hugged you, told you she was happy for you and soonyoung, and she looked at you for several, long seconds. you felt like she could see right through you because she probably could—she always did.

“you’ll always have him.”

“and he’ll always have me.”

“i know.”

the end is long and beautiful, and it’s simultaneously the best and the most devastating night of your life.

but your lives go on, and you and joshua both find what keeps you warm at night, and you hold onto it for as long as you can.

and you’re okay with that. you hope he is too.

[bee-taylorsversion]

Vanilla III [M] FINAL

Pairing: Joshua Hong x Fem!Reader Tags: 5.4k, F2L, Romance, Smut 18+ Summary: Joshua is a man with a plan and that plan involves a little dress-up, an old camera, and the woman he loves. It almost sounds sweet, doesn’t it? 

One | Two | Three (Final)

Warnings: explicit sexual content 18+, minors dni!, bdsm practices, consent/rules/safe words established, mean-dom!josh, sub/brat!reader, unprotected sex (mxf), fingering (f), oral (f), manhandling, pussy slapping & spitting (?), breast/nipple play, nipple clamps, blindfold, taking explicit pictures, light bondage. throat/face gripping, possessive role/speech, demoralizing dirty talk, coarse language, multiple orgasms, pet names, moderate sir kink, aftercare.

You’re beginning to think you’ve become far too familiar with the foot of Joshua’s bed.

It hadn’t been more than ten minutes of being home from your date that he’d pressed you against the kitchen counter and told you to go wait for him. The morning had been spent with smiles and laughter. Stolen kisses and interlaced fingers over the table at breakfast and throughout the market. Now, your legs are tucked neatly beneath you, hands in your lap, head bowed as you wait for him to enter the room.

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[bee-taylorsversion]

Vanilla II [M]

Pairing: Joshua Hong x Fem!Reader Tags: 8.7k words, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Smut 18+ Summary: Joshua has you on edge all evening and you’re not sure if you’ll survive dinner with your families. You, however, have him dealing with feelings he’s never had to war with, especially in the bedroom and it throws him into a tailspin. 

One | Two | Three 

Warnings: explicit sexual content 18+, minors dni!, bdsm practices, rules & safe words established, mean-dom!josh, newbie-sub/brat!reader, unprotected sex, fingering, choking, manhandling, pussy slapping, demoralizing dirty talk, coarse language, thigh riding, slight exhibitionism, multiple orgasms, one glass of wine, pet names, moderate sir kink, inappropriate son-in-law behavior at the dinner table, aftercare, more feelings. 

The box arrived over an hour ago but you couldn’t bring yourself to open it. 

The poor delivery guy had to push it into your hands lest you both stand there staring at one another for a solid ten minutes and you’d immediately walked into your bedroom, eyes wide, posture stiff. Carefully placing it on the edge of the bed, you backed away as if there was surely an explosive inside. You hadn’t even looked at the tag before you retreated to your living room. You attempted to simply ignore its presence. 

You knew who it was from. 

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[bee-taylorsversion]

Vanilla [M] Pairing: Joshua Hong x Fem!Reader Tags: 11.2k words, Friends to Lovers, Smut, 18+ Summary: Joshua has a secret but perhaps it’s not really a secret at all. Maybe you’ve just refused to see it in an effort to keep your feelings at bay.

Warnings: explicit sexual content 18+, minors dni!, bdsm practices, rules & safe words established, mean-dom!josh, newbie-sub/brat!reader, unprotected sex, oral, fingering, choking, manhandling, hair pulling, biting, spitting, breast/nipple play, pussy/breast slapping, manhandling, deep-throating, face-fucking, cum eating, finger sucking, handcuffing, restraints, vibrators, temperature play, rough spanking w/ mentions about markings/bruising, demoralizing dirty talk, coarse language, multiple orgasms, over-stimulation, safe wording!, casual alcohol consumption at dinner, minor possessive!josh, some pet names, moderate sir kink, inappropriate son-in-law behavior while on the phone w/ mom, aftercare, feelings. 

To be fair…he had given you ample warning. It was entirely your fault that you hadn’t believed him when he told you you’d regret your words. 

You grew up with Joshua, knew him inside and out, like a book you’d read a million times and yet somehow, you had entirely skipped the chapter detailing his sexual proclivities every time. It had been tucked away between your first hand experience that Joshua was essentially an angel in everyone’s eyes your entire lives, including your own. 

He was in the top percent in every grade, a student athlete, a member of the church choir, he volunteered with his family every weekend, graduated from an Ivy League university, and then landed a high-paying job at a huge company. He was attractive, warm, kind, funny, responsible, polite, so on and so forth.

He was the type of boy every mom, including your own, wished for her daughter to someday marry and yet seemingly none of that made a difference now. 

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[bee-taylorsversion]

𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐟𝐭. 𝐤.𝐦𝐠

> the one where ur situationship was always lwk dating

warnings: explicit language, flirting, mentions of drug use (just pot), and alcohol

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

summary: you’re used to mingyu messaging for hookups, but your ‘hookups’ are always cuter and more involved than they have any right to be, some might even say that it’s more like you’re ‘dating’ him

word count: 1k

[gyu]

you around

[y/n]

at a party why

[gyu] 

come hang out w me

[y/n]

srry u mean leave free booze ??

[gyu]

have weed […]

and that part of me u seem to like so much

You grinned to yourself as you replied. 

[y/n]

which part is that again

[gyu]

so funny […]

come smoke with me […]

let me eat you 

You stared at the message for a moment too long. 

“What happened?” Your roommate was suddenly very close and trying to read your phone over your shoulder, “You have that look!” She giggled. “You’re about to make some bullshit excuse to leave.”

You were quick to lock your phone. “Nothing - and no, I’m not about to do that at all…” you trailed off. 

She laughed. “Don’t be annoying, just tell me who he is,” she whined and pulled your arm like a small kid trying to get their way. 

You rolled your eyes and tried to push her away. She giggled and lunged for your phone. “Tell me!” She pleaded, making a pouting face.

You hugged your phone closer. “No, it’s a secret,” you whispered, kind of loudly.

You barely made it out without giving her Mingyu’s name. Even though she’d guessed it was him weeks before. The way she’d stared at you when she guessed “that lab partner - the one you clearly didn’t hate.” She’d been so certain. 

And you’d manage to lie to her, convincingly enough, anyway. 

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[y/n]

okayyyy omw

[gyu]

fr

[y/n]

yess […]

in uber now

[gyu]

send me a pin thing […]

so i know where u r

[y/n]

worried?

[find my location shared with gyu]

[gyu]

is that not allowed?

You sighed and looked out the window as you rode to his place. He lived in a cute part of one of the old art districts. You liked seeing the buildings passing by, the old architecture - you maybe loved when he asked you over. 

You knew your way to his door despite the random flow of the building’s hallways. You barely knocked before the door was being opened. You held back a grin because you had the feeling Mingyu had been waiting for you just on the other side of the door, pretending he wasn’t of course. 

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“Hi,” you whispered as he pulled you inside his apartment. You grinned as he slid his arms around you so he could kiss you, his soft lips working sweetly against yours. You reached up, winding your arms around his neck as you returned his kisses. You loved the soft sounds he made - he was always noisy and needy and so cute. 

He squeezed you close and picked you up, your legs wrapping automatically around his waist. You smiled at him, smoothing his hair from his face. “So big and strong,” you said as you traced a finger along his lower lip, loving the way his eyes gleamed in the low light as he looked up at you, soaking in all your compliments. 

“So pretty too,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss him again, licking into him, tasting him. 

You moaned softly when your back hit the wall. He rolled his hips against you, needy and wanton. You pulled his hair gently, leaning up again to breathe, to look at him. It was like surfacing after diving into water. 

“Thought you wanted to eat me,” you whispered with a smirk. 

He grinned in response, barely biting his lip. “That’s always true, though,” he murmured, squeezing your ass gently. 

You smiled because he was painfully cute this way. “Are we actually going to smoke this time?” You asked, voice soft, fingers twining in his hair. 

He nodded. “Yes,” he whispered, “probably,” he giggled. 

You grinned, knowing he’d already smoked at least a bowl.  Which was just fine, since you were still buzzing from whatever mixed drink you’d had. 

You sighed softly. “Mmmh, ‘probably’?” You asked softly, “hmm, maybe we should skip to the part where we play Mario Kart, and I’ll actually let you be Princess Peach,” you offered. 

He watched your lips as you spoke, glancing up suddenly. “I’m always Princess Peach,” he said with a pout. 

You’d seen him purposefully avoid playing as his favorite character when anyone was around too many times to fall for this propaganda. 

“Really? You?” You said in mock surprise. “Because last time I saw you”—

He rolled his eyes. “Okay,” he whined, “fine, I’m not Princess Peach when I play in public,” he corrected. “I’m just Princess Peach when I’m alone or with you - happy?” he asked sulkily. 

You nodded, still running your fingers through his hair, loving how soft it was. “Very,” you admitted with a small smile. How could you not be happy with him, you wondered. 

He hummed in response as he leaned in for another kiss. You loved how easy it was to be with him, how soft he could be. He was definitely in a cute mood. 

You broke the kiss just to look at him. He groaned softly. “Seriously?”

You nodded. “Sorry, you’re just so…” you trailed off, tilting your head to the side to stare at him. 

He leaned close, kissing your cheek. “We aren’t fucking are we?”

You giggled, feeling like he’d read your mind. “No, I don’t think so,” you whispered. “But who knows,” you said as you kissed him again. 

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

You didn’t fuck before bed. 

You played Mario Kart and ordered food. You borrowed his clothes to sleep in and curled up happily next to him, while he picked some movie to play while you both fell asleep. It was perfect when he finally settled on something, and was lying next to you, arms around your waist, his face buried in your hair. 

Besides, you didn’t always need to fuck. Sometimes you just wanted to see him be ridiculously happy when Princess Peach took out Bowser in Mario Kart. And maybe sometimes you let him win just so you could see him be that happy. 

And that was probably some kind of something beyond just two people hooking up, right, you wondered as you fell asleep in his warm embrace.

a/n: okay so sometimes i'm deep in my mingyu-feels and other times i'm just not - rn i am and maybe i'm working on other fics for him like mingyuAI..omg finally, some more of that - fr i just have to be in the mood to write him, i can't explain it :/

tbh i read my mingyu hanahaki fic and was like 'oh yeahhhh i do love him for reasons'

⋆˙⟡♡ 𝒌𝒂𝒕

♡ master list & tag list

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ complete mingyu master list

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐞

mingyu x noona agenda: praise + worship kink | vehicle sex + oral fixation | ceo/boss + big flirt x easily flustered + age difference | 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒉 |

teasers: mingyuAI [ teaser i ] [ teaser ii ] |୨୧| all but break your heart |୨୧| tonight tonight

drabbles: summer coworker | happy hour | soft dom | kinky puppy | sex toy play | valentine's day | puppy play gyu | morning mingyu (cute / fluff) | the one here you hate him | #kat_drabbles

angst: no blueberries master list (college au)

fluff: waiting to feel foolish (college au) |୨୧| never happened before (magical realism au) |୨୧| hoodies & candy (college au) |୨୧| no strings (magical realm au) [pt. 1]

smut: playing hearts (college au | camboy au) |୨୧| leave it open (monster!mingyu au) |୨୧| openly pining (stepbrother au) |୨୧| 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒉

series: my familiar (magical realism au) [pt. 1 f] [pt. 2 - coming soon]

mingyu bingo [ all s ]: lingerie + praise kink | bed sharing + big dick | praise + worship kink | vehicle sex + oral fixation | drunk pda + no underwear | enemies to lovers + tentacles | internet friends + blind date + size kink | ceo/boss + big flirt x easily flustered + age difference |

[ mingyu drabble tag list ]

☁︎ @syluslittlecrows [e] ☁︎ @gyuguys [e] ☁︎ @tinyelfperson [e] ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite [e] ☁︎ @livelaughloveseventeen [e] ☁︎ @codeinebelle [e] ☁︎ @ateez-atiny380 [e] ☁︎ @mingcouper [e] ☁︎ @hanniebub [e] ☁︎ @perfectiondazesworld [e] ☁︎ @scoupshawty [e] ☁︎ @peachytokki [e] ☁︎ @coupsbestleader [e] ☁︎ @fleurloovin [e] ☁︎ @babybae-shisui [e] ☁︎ @asyre [e] ☁︎ @dcrlingyou [e] ☁︎ @yeosayang [e] ☁︎ @nanabananananabatman ☁︎ @yoongznme [e] ☁︎ @gyuhao365 [e] ☁︎ @jeonghnie [e] ☁︎ @armycarat2612 [e] ☁︎ @shuas-winnie30 [e] ☁︎ @famouspoetrydinosaur [e] ☁︎ @ateezaddict24 [e] ☁︎

☁︎ @aaronwarners69thwife [e + wips] ☁︎ @daisymbin [e + wips] ☁︎ @babilou-pov [e + wips] ☁︎ @sseungcheols [ e + wips ] ☁︎ @keyrecsfics [ e + one/multi & wips] ☁︎

☁︎ @ninigyuuu [k.mg - e, b.f. priv]

[bee-taylorsversion]

pretty, pity, pity (jww)

He loudly clears his throat. “So… you’re like a camgirl?”

You wince. “I prefer streamer with benefits, but yeah.”

the one where reader is a camgirl and asks her roommate to fuck her on stream.

౨ৎ roommate!wonwoo x cam girl! mc ౨ৎ w.c: 4.9k ౨ৎ genre: pwp. minors do not interact. ౨ৎ warnings: explicit content🔞, wonwoo's a little too good at playing pretend, also he's a little mean in this (during sex), sex on livestream, use of sir (like three times), mingyu is reader's friend, uhh i think that's it? please tell me if there's anything i missed im not good at this. ౨ৎ date posted: june 07, 2025 ౨ৎ notes: title from the song novacane by frank ocean! this is also my first fic on tumblr so please be nice to me i will cry okay. i haven't written fic in ages 😭 please come to my blog and hang out i want to make friends !! masterlist | inbox

“Hey, Wonwoo-yah,” you softly call, knuckles taping gently against his half-open door.

Wonwoo looks up from his desk, pausing his game and slipping his headphones down to hang around his neck. His brows lift in that quiet way he always greets you — surprised but gentle, like he’s glad you’re there. The light from the hallway outlines your silhouette, casting a soft glow behind you.

You step in slowly, hands twisted nervously in the sleeves of your oversized sweater. It's one of his, though you’ll never admit that out loud. Your fingers fidget in the fabric as you search for the right words.

Wonwoo tilts his head, “What’s up?” he asks gently prodding you to speak whatever is making you nervous.

You open your mouth, close it again, then finally manage, “I… have kind of a weird favor to ask.” You finally admit as you plop yourself down on his bed, grabbing one of his pillows to wrap your arms around it, a makeshift shield.

He leans back in his chair. “Yes.”

You blink, face contorting in astonishment. “You don’t even know what it is.”

He smiles, soft and sincere. “Doesn’t matter. I’d do anything for you.”

That makes your stomach flip, and you have to look away for a second. “That’s… really sweet. But you might want to hear it first. I need you to…” You suck in a breath and rush it all out: “Pretend to be my boyfriend.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Sorry?” he says, blinking like he didn’t hear you right.

You force yourself to slow down, squeezing his pillow for comfort — and not that you'd ever admit it, take a massive whiff of his cologne, something that always seems to calm you. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Wonwoo stares for a second, face blank in that quietly-processing-everything way of his. You can tell he’s trying to decide whether this is a prank, a cry for help, or some unspoken code he’s supposed to understand.

You let out a frustrated sigh and flop down on his bed, clutching his pillow tighter. “Okay. Context. Remember how I told you the pay from the studio isn’t amazing? Like, I love it, but it’s not really paying all my bills?”

Wonwoo nods, clearly still confused.

“Well, the pay is actually, really bad, like I don't make enough to cover my portion of the rent—”

Wonwoo cuts you off, “If you need me to pay more I can, it's really no problem, I just got a huge bonus for the—”

“No!” This time you interrupt, “I've got it covered, that's the point. I was complaining to a friend, and well she told me about this website…” Your words trail off giving Wonwoo a look like he's meant to use that big brain of his and fill in the blanks.

“You have a sugar daddy?” He guesses. God, for someone so smart he is also completely clueless.

“I'm a sex worker.” You admit, staring at him, waiting for his reaction.

There’s a very long silence. You wait for the judgment. The discomfort. Anything.

Wonwoo looks like he's trying to remember how to breathe,

“Uhm,” His voice is startlingly high when he speaks, in a way you've never heard, he clears his throat, “So someone you uhm…” you can see the tips of his ears going red, “had business with is being a creep so you need me to scare them off.”

You can't help the burst of laughter that bubbles out—Wonwoo? Intimidate anyone?

“No, no.” You shake you head, laughter still on your lips, “Look, I, I don't fuck any one. I'm a streamer, people pay to watch me, fuck myself, that is.”

You can feel the heat flushing to your face but at least Wonwoo isn't in better shape, the red has creeped its ways from the tips of his ears down his neck and touches his cheeks.

He loudly clears his throat. “So… you’re like a camgirl?”

You wince. “I prefer streamer with benefits, but yeah.”

“And… the fake boyfriend?”

You sigh, “I like started this false narrative around this boyfriend I had, so people wouldn't get too lost in the fantasy, because my friend shared all types of horror stories about doing this. And I guess I kind of just get myself off and tell them stories about this imaginary boyfriend I don't have and well on my last stream for reaching a fuckton of subscribers I said I'd do a request to the highest donation and well… they want my nonexistent boyfriend to fuck me. And I just, I can't ask anyone else because I can't even imagine how they would take it, like can you imagine if I asked Jihoon? That would be so embarassing. God, or Mingyu? He'd say yes but I don't think he's capable of having sex without catching feeli—

“I’ll do it.”

You slow down from your spiral, startled. “Really?”

Wonwoo nods, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Of course.”

౨ৎ

A few days later, you're at the kitchen table, half-draped over it in shame, while Mingyu sits across from you absolutely losing his mind.

“You—” he chokes out between wheezes, “you asked Wonwoo to fuck you. On camera. In front of an audience. I—god, I’m gonna pass out. This is the greatest day of my life.”

You groan into your arms. “Stop saying it like that.”

“Like what? Like the truth? Like the guy you’ve been crushing on since forever is going to dick you down live in front of thousands of horny strangers?”

“It’s not like that—”

“It is exactly like that,” he howls. “You asked your crush to clap you like a goddamn cymbal monkey for money. What is this, fanfiction?”

You glare at him, snatching the spoon from your tea and brandishing it like a knife. “I swear to god, if you don’t shut up, I will FaceTime Yuna right now and tell her exactly why you broke up with her.”

Mingyu pales instantly, hands in the air. “Okay. Truce. Fuck, Noona. Harsh.”

You slump back into your seat, pressing your fingers to your temples. “This sucks.”

“Correction,” he says smugly, “this is your origin story. You’ve been in love with him since he "fixed" your wifi, and now you're gonna get railed on stream by him. It's the slowest burn friends-to-lovers-to-livestream-fuck arc I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s not romantic,” you mutter, glaring into your cup like it might drown you.

“Really?” Mingyu raises a brow. “So you’re telling me you're going to let the guy you’ve been mentally undressing since 2022 fill you up on camera, and then what — fist bump and call it a night?”

You don’t answer.

He grins. “That’s what I thought.”

“…Shut the fuck up, Mingyu.”

౨ৎ

Friday.

Wonwoo walks into your room just as you're adjusting the camera angle and checking the lighting. He's wearing a simple black shirt, chain at his neck, hair slightly mussed like he just rolled out of bed looking unfairly perfect.

You swallow.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, then nods toward the bed. “You ready?”

Your heart is pounding. “Only if you are.”

He steps closer, eyes flicking over your outfit—an oversized sweater, one of his, and shorts so short you can barely see them—his Adam’s apple bobs slightly as he swallows.

“You look nice,” he says.

You force a laugh. “Thanks. You do too.”

That gets a real smile out of him, and your stomach flips.

You go live, and watch as the first messages roll in.

Your usuals, the ones who know you don't like to go right into.

You let yourself forget that Wonwoo's there as you fall into another version of yourself—slipping into the role like a second skin. Your eyes flicker across the screen reading the message until you find one worth responding to

tigersgaze: god i needed this, work deadlines are killing me. hope your week was better than mine.

“Aww, I'm sorry, tiger. I hope stream will help you relax.” You say leaning back, with the practiced ease of someone who's been doing this for ages.

angelface666: is this finally the stream where we meet the elusive boyfriend? mommyplease: show us your perfect tits please mommy? cumslut44: i like your sweater baby singledad95: please show me your cunt, i miss it so bad.

“Hmm, my boyfriend is here. Maybe if you're good I'll let you meet him.” There's an unspoken request in your words, and the viewers seem to get it clearly. The donations start flowing in.

You spentd a few more quiet moments just talking with your viewers, letting more people come in.

You glance to your left. He’s just out of frame, waiting. Calm. Cool. You reach out and tug him into view.

You know exactly the vision he looks on screen—his hair falls in his face, just brushing against the frames of his glasses, the sharp jawline. He sits beside you on the bed, one hand possessively on your thigh.

You watch as the chats roll in.

angelface666: oh. he's pretty. justherefory/n: god i know his dick is big. tigersgaze: i bet you look so pretty on him.

You can’t help but laugh softly. “You're right tiger, I do look pretty on him.”You slide closer to him, deliberately swinging a leg over his lap, your hips settling just against his. “They’ve been very curious about you,” you say it like it's a confession between lovers and not like it's your best friend simply playing a role.

Wonwoo’s fingers flex on your thigh. “I don't share well.” And you know he's playing his part but the truth in the statement makes you giggle, Wonwoo's never been good at sharing.

You shift your hips slightly in his lap, just enough friction to draw a sharp inhale from him.

You lean in, brushing lips against Wonwoo’s ear again.

“Ready to give them a show, baby?”

His reply?

A hand around your throat and a dangerous smile.

Wonwoo leans in. You tilt your head. And then his lips meet yours. It’s not for show. It’s not practiced.

It’s soft. Deep. Slow. Like he’s wanted to do this for a long time. You’re too breathless to keep pretending.

Your thighs clench involuntarily.

Wonwoo pulls back just far enough to brush his nose against yours. “Color?”

You blink, dazed. “Green,” you breathe.

He hums in approval, a low sound that rumbles in his chest and vibrates through you. His hand slips lower, fingers tracing the hem of your shorts, and your pulse spikes.

You look back at the chat to distract yourself.

facefucker29: hurry up and fuck already dirtywhitetee: i knew you'd look pretty with a hand around your throat y/nsdirtylittleslut: i want him to make a mess of you mommyplease: that should be me mommy i'd treat your so well

You gasp a little when his hand sneaks beneath the fabric and settles possessively on your thigh. He doesn’t move further — not yet — but the message is clear: mine.

He leans in again, lips ghosting over your ear. “You’re doing so well for me,” he whispers, just loud enough for the mic to catch. “You want me to keep going?”

You nod. Then realize they can’t see that, and breathe out, “Yes. Please.”

His laugh is low and dark. “Then beg.”

The room spins. You forgot you asked for this. You forgot you wanted him to play rough — like the dominant boyfriend your viewers fantasized about. You forgot that Wonwoo could look at you like that — hooded gaze, parted lips, one hand gripping your thigh, the other loose around your neck like he owns every inch of you.

“I said—” his voice dips, something low that has you clenching around nothing, his grip on your throat just the slightest bit tighter, “—beg.”

You almost forget the camera is even there.

“Please, Wonwoo,” you whisper, and it’s more than a performance now. “Touch me. I need you to.”

He pats your thigh gently. “Good girl.”

The words hit you like a freight train. You whimper, openly this time.

Your eyes shift back to the chat again, trying not to get lost in him—a small part of you fears it's already too late.

singledad65: i knew you'd make such a pretty sub. what a pretty mess already

tigersgaze: fuck i'm so hard already. wanna see you choking on his cock baby.

mommyplease: mommy show us your tits please please please i'm so hard.

Wonwoo shifts slightly, demanding your attention, enough for his knee to knock your legs apart, spreading them just enough for the camera to catch view of the blooming wet spot on your cotton shorts.

You feel dizzy. You’re wet — obviously, hopelessly wet — and every part of you is pulsing, aching, desperate for more. You don’t even care about the stream anymore. You only care about him.

And then, without warning, he grabs your wrists and pins them gently above your head, pushing you back onto the bed.

It’s not rough — not really. Just firm enough to make your whole body light up.

“Keep your hands right there,” he says, voice like velvet-wrapped steel. “Let me take care of you.”

You nod helplessly. “Yes, Won-.” you gulp stopping yourself from saying his name aloud. You never discussed if he was okay with his name being used on stream.

He kisses down your neck, slow and deliberate, pausing just above your collarbone as his fingers graze the curve of your waist.

You can't imagine how you must look on camera right now, the image of you splayed out just for him. You almost whimper at the thought, your hips rolling up to chase friction.

But before anything else can happen, he pauses.

Pulls back just slightly. Meets your eyes.

“This okay?” he asks, quietly this time. “You sure?”

Your heart clenches.

God. Even now, with your legs spread and your body shaking and the camera still rolling, he’s checking in.

“I’m sure,” you whisper. “I trust you.”

His smile is soft. And just like that, you're ruined all over again.

“Good.” Wonwoo kisses you again — deep, filthy, and completely in control.

Your hands twitch against the pillow beneath your head, instinct screaming at you to touch him, to grab his shoulders, tangle your fingers in his hair, something — but but the larger part of you is begging you to listen, to be rewarded for being a good girl.

“You stay right there,” he murmurs. “You take what I give you.”

You nod, panting. “Yes, W-sir.”

His free hand slides slowly beneath the hem of your sweater, palm splaying flat over your stomach. He doesn’t move higher. Not yet. He waits — lets the silence stretch until your back arches off the mattress and your hips squirm beneath him.

And then he laughs, low and mean. Almost cruel, if not for the affection in his eyes.

“You’re already so needy,” he taunts. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

His thumb brushes your bottom lip. You suck it in instinctively and the growl that slips from his throat makes your thighs clamp together.

He sees it. Of course he does.

"Open."

You do. Without question.

He pushes his thumb between your lips, slow and steady, eyes fixed on your face the whole time. You swirl your tongue around it, moaning as you suck, and the flash in his eyes makes your whole body light up like a warning sign.

He pulls his thumb free with a wet pop, then brings it down between your legs, slipping it just inside the waistband of your shorts — not enough to touch you, but enough to make your hips buck toward him.

"You're gonna be good and cum for me like this," he murmurs. "Still wearing your pretty little shorts. Think you can do that?"

“I—yeah,” you pant. “I can.”

“Good girl.”

The two words hit harder than any touch. Your whole body clenches at the sound of it. He starts to rub, slow firm circles over your panties, and your head drops back against the bed.

You’re so wet it’s humiliating. You can feel the damp fabric clinging to you, feel the friction sparking with every motion of his fingers — and you dig your nails into into your palms to keep yourself from reaching out for him.

You’re moaning now, high and choked, not even bothering to hold it in. You can’t. His voice, his hand, his weight on top of yo —it’s all too much.

“Keep your hands up,” he growls, and there’s no mistaking the real edge in his voice now. “You want to cum? You earn it.”

You nod, frantic. “Yes, yes, please—”

“You don’t get to cum until I say so.”

“Sir—!”

He presses harder. You cry out, thighs trembling, hips jerking uselessly as he works you faster. Your breathing is ragged. You’re so close it hurts.

And then—

He stops.

Your eyes fly open.

“Wonwoo—!” You cry out in shock, not even pausing to think about using his name, the nager clear in your tone.

“Shh,” he soothes, lips brushing your cheek. “You’ll get it. But first…”

His hands slip beneath your sweater, and this time he doesn't hesitate. He pushes it up, exposing your bare chest to the camera.

You had honestly forgotten about the stream—about the chat, and clearly they had noticed. Your eyes rake the comments:

singledad95: poor baby she's gone already dacefucker69: fuck i'm gonna cum. mommyplease: thank you daddy, look at mommy's perfect tits. can i cum please? tigersgaze: god i think she forgot about us, but i don't care you look so good like this baby

You gasp. You should feel embarrassed, but you’re so deep into this you don’t even care. You just want his hands back on you.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything at first. Just stares. His lips part slightly. There’s something reverent in the way his gaze drags across your skin.

Then he looks up — into the lens. Into the eyes of everyone watching.

“She’s mine,” he says, voice low and lethal. “You can look, but you don’t get to touch. Ever.”

Then he looks down again, and he smiles — slow, devastating, like a man who knows exactly how fucked you are.

“Now beg again, baby. Real pretty for the camera.”

You choke on your own breath.

“Please, Wonwoo,” you whisper. “I need to cum. I—I need you so bad, please, I’ll be good, I swear.”

His hand slips back between your legs.

And this time, he doesn’t stop.

You don’t know if you’re begging in words anymore or just making sounds — the kind of half-choked whines you never thought would leave your mouth outside of your most desperate dreams.

And he’s still touching you, still working tight, devastating circles against your clit through the soaked fabric of your panties. Your hips buck wildly beneath him, your legs trying to close, but his free hand pins your thigh open with ease.

“Don’t fight it,” he murmurs. “You wanted to cum so bad—so do it. Cum for me, just like this. Let them all watch how sweet you sound when I ruin you.”

You gasp, a high-pitched sob, and your fingers claw into the sheets beside your head, straining to obey his earlier command to keep your hands to yourself. You're on fire, every muscle drawn tight and twitching, a livewire underneath his touch.

“You're so wet," Wonwoo growls. "You really were gonna cum for me in your shorts like a little slut, huh?”

Your whimper is confirmation enough. Your body is spiraling out of your control now.

And then he leans in — mouth brushing your ear, voice so low it’s filthy.

“I'm not even inside you yet and you're already a fucking mess.”

Something in you snaps.

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as your orgasm slams into you. Your thighs shake, your breath catches, and your entire body locks up beneath him as he works you through it, never slowing down — rubbing mercilessly until you’re twitching and gasping and trying to twist away from his hand.

But he doesn’t let you go.

“Oh no, no, baby,” he coos, voice suddenly cruel again, deceptively sweet. “You can cum more than that.”

“Wonwoo—” you plead, voice broken.

“You’re gonna cum again. For them,” he says, nodding toward the camera, “and for me.”

Your body is oversensitive now but his hand doesn’t stop. It changes. Slower now, deeper pressure, coaxing you through the aftershocks.

You try to speak. It’s just a stuttering, useless gasp of air.

“Come on,” he says gently now. “One more. Be good.”

And then he bites you, open mouth, right over your collarbone, and that's all it takes for you to fall apart.

The second orgasm crashes over you before you’re fully recovered from the first. It drags a low moan from your lips this time, ragged and raw, and you sob out his name like a prayer as your body convulses underneath him.

Your vision goes blurry for a second.

The only thing anchoring you is the press of his hand between your thighs and the sound of his voice — murmuring quiet praises you’re barely coherent enough to understand.

“Just like that. That’s my girl.”

And you're just coming down from the last waves of your orgasm when Wonwoo shifts you, until you're once again his lap, laying with your back against to his chest, your legs hooked on both sides of his thighs, he pushes your shorts down and off. He removes your sweater too, you're completely bare, body flushed and looking all too fucked out and he hasn't even fucked you yet. Exposed and bare on his till clothed form.

You don’t even notice the camera at first.

He turns his gaze to the camera and smiles. He smirks, really — eyes heavy-lidded, lazy with satisfaction.

You're too fucked out to really pay attention, he says, “If you want more, you know what to do.”

The dings of incoming donations flood the room, one after another until Wonwoo is seemingly satisfied.

He trails a finger up your thigh, playing with your dripping pussy. He looks at the chat for confirmation, you try to, too, eyes still unfocused from pleasure as his fingers tease your core.

“You're so dirty baby, I haven't even got my fingers in you yet and you're dripping.” A sharp whine leaves your lips at his words. His finger teases your opening, before pulling away to brush lightly against your abused clit.

"Tell me, what do you want? Do you want me to touch you here?" He pauses, his breath warm on your skin as he whispers near in your ear, "Or maybe somewhere else?"

His hand slowly moves upwards, caressing your stomach, then higher to cup one of your breasts. He squeezes softly, feeling the weight and shape of it in his palm, brushing a finger against a peaked nipple. “Use your words, baby.”

“Wonwoo,” You whine, rocking your hips softly, feeling his cock, thick and hard beneath you, you feel oh so empty, “Please.”

Wonwoo slowly pushes a finger inside you, he groans softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he continues to place gentle kisses along your neck and collarbone. "Mmm, so tight," he murmurs, slowly pumping his finger in and out, building a steady rhythm.

With his free hand, he reaches up to tangle his fingers in your hair, and pulls, hard enough to sting. He trails his lips over the sensitive skin, nipping and sucking gently as he works another finger into your slick heat, stretching you out.

"Does that feel good?" he asks, his voice rough with need. "Do you like having my fingers inside you, stretching you open?"

You nod, mouth open in a moan—you're so lost in your own world, in the pleasure, it's easy to forget that this is all for show, that this moment is just an act and Wonwoo isn't yours. But in this moment he is.

“More, please.” You whine rocking your hips, simultaneously grinding down on his clothed cock and against his fingers inside you.

His fingers fuck into you with a purpose until—“Ahhh” you moan, shaking, when he pushes against your g-spot with a determined persistence.

His eyes go sharp again as he stares down the camera, he's staking his claim. You're his.

“What do you think? Should I make her cum again like this?” He asks, a smirk on his lips as he stills his hand, you rock your hips shamelessly chasinging your release.

“Wonwoo please please please please please.” A litany of pleas leave your lips, tears nearly forming in your eyes. You're so close you can taste it.

“Don't ask me, baby.” He chuckles low and deep, unbelievably sexy. “Ask them.”

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the viewfinder, fucked out, a mess, eyes heavy lidded. You look debauched, and pretty.

“I want to cum,” Your voice is raw from all the moaning, your lips are plump from biting on them, you look the very essence of sin, “please.”

The chat explodes with tips and that seems to be enough for Wonwoo.

He kisses you like he owns you.

And maybe, in this moment, he does. The way he’s touching you says it — the way he’s holding your hips down, dragging his fingers up your thigh, says it. You can feel the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance — you hadn't even noticed he'd pulled it out of his sweatpants, and it’s not even in yet but your body is already begging.

“Ready?” he murmurs low against your throat, lips brushing your skin like a tease.

You nod, wordless. Already wrecked, slick and throbbing under him, your thighs trembling with every shallow breath.

“Words,” he reminds you, and you feel the tip press just slightly inside.

“Yes. Yes, Wonwoo, please.”

He groans like he’s been waiting to hear that all night. “Good girl.”

And then he pushes in.

Your gasp catches high in your throat, nails clawing at the sheets beneath you as he splits you open, inch by inch, his hips slow and deliberate. He’s thick, the stretch almost too much—almost, but then he bottoms out, presses flush against your body, and you swear you see white.

Wonwoo pauses there, buried inside you. His voice is a low growl when he speaks.

“Let them see you like this,” he says, staring down the camera with a smirk. “Stuffed full of me.”

You don’t even care that they’re watching. Not when he starts to move.

His thrusts are deep from the start, slow at first, but with that tight rhythm that makes your brain melt. One of his hand wraps around your throat, thumb resting just under your jaw, and the contact makes your whole body tense beneath him. The other steady on your hip, moving you like a ragdoll, his personal fuck toy as he lifts you up and down on his lap, meeting his every thrust.

“You like that?” he says, almost mockingly sweet. “Getting fucked in front of a live audience?”

“Wonwoo—” you gasp, already spiraling.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praises. “Look at that. So tight. So fucking wet.”

Each thrust punches a little sound out of you, his cock hitting that sweet spot over and over, and when he pulls your hips down to meet his, the slick slap of skin echoes off the walls. You don't even try to stop the sounds falling from your lips anymore—you're beyond pride, beyond shame.

“Gonna cum already?” he teases, kissing along your jaw, grinding deep. “Not even halfway done with you, baby.”

“I—I can’t—” you whimper.

“Yes, you can,” he growls. “You’re gonna cum around my cock like a good girl.”

The orgasm builds fast, your body tight, trembling, every muscle locking up as you struggle to hold back. But his voice is right in your ear, coaxing you through it.

“Let them watch you fall apart for me,” he whispers. “Now. Be good. Cum.”

You shatter.

It’s too much. Your vision goes white, your body clamps tight around him, and your orgasm tears through you like a storm. You cry out, maybe even sob his name, but it’s all blurred in the wave of pleasure. You can’t think, can’t breathe.

Wonwoo groans low in his throat as you tighten around him, and it’s like a switch flips. His hips snap into yours harder now, faster. His grip on your throat tightens as he chases his own release.

“You feel too fucking good,” he hisses, fucking into you like he’s about to lose control. “So perfect. Gonna cum inside you. Fill you up. You want that?”

You nod frantically, barely coherent, and that’s all he needs.

He slams in once more and holds there, hips pressed hard against you as his body trembles, his breath catching in a deep, guttural groan. You feel the heat of it, the way he pulses inside you, and it only makes your body twitch around him again.

Silence.

Except for your ragged breathing, the camera still rolling in the background, and the sound of his heartbeat thudding against your chest.

Wonwoo finally exhales.

He gently eases out of you, hand trailing softly down your thigh, and your body gives a full-body twitch—overstimulated and still shaking.

Your eyes meet his, no teasing now. Just something real.

The camera light is still on.

He gives it a final look, then leans forward, and with the same casual dominance as before, clicks it off.

Then he looks back down at you. Smirking. But softer now.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod.

But your voice is hoarse when you whisper back, “Yeah. But that didn’t feel fake.”

He just brushes the damp hair from your cheek and says, “Because it wasn’t.”

[bee-taylorsversion]

(Im)maturity Level (seungcheol x f!reader - THIRST Series #2)

The second fic in my ongoing THIRST Series: What if you accidentally (or purposely) sent nudes to your best friend (or perhaps worst enemy)?

Summary: When you try to send a stranger your nudes, Seungcheol takes matters into his own hands and sparks a fight. So you send them to him instead.

Genre: Smut PWP, friends to lovers, make up sex

Word Count: 9.2k

Tags/Warnings: References to nudes, arguing, make up sex, rough-ish sex (consensual), oral (m and f receiving), protected sex, marking/hickeys, dirty talk, jealousy, slight dom!seungcheol/switch! seungcheol, brat reader, both cheol and the reader are obnoxious pouty babies

Read on AO3: (Im)maturity Level (#2 in the THIRST Series)

Thanks for reading! Full upcoming list available on my Masterlist.

[bee-taylorsversion]

Stay Focused (mingyu x f!reader - THIRST Series #1)

The first fic in my new THIRST Series: What if you accidentally (or purposely) sent nudes to your best friend (or perhaps worst enemy)?

Summary: When you accidentally distract your best friend on moving day, he has an idea on how to help you both stay focused.

Genre: Smut PWP, best friends to lovers

Word Count: 6.7k

Tags/Warnings: reader has pretty significant ADHD, some hints to rejection sensitive dysphoria, very light angst, humor, reference to nudes, fluff, thigh riding, protected sex, brief handjob/oral (m!receiving), general overindulgent smut and romantic silliness like the rest of my fics.

Read on AO3: Stay Focused (#1 in the THIRST Series)

Really excited to start this new series and I hope you all enjoy it. I tried to come up with some interesting ways to handle this trope across several members. For the full upcoming list, please see my Masterlist.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always loved and appreciated! 💕