#pcysmut

[wonderlustlucas]

satori - park chanyeol

⇢ prompt Let’s make it forever.—sequel to greatest gift ⇢ pairing chanyeol x female reader ⇢ word count 14.3k ⇢ genre fluff & smut ⇢ warnings explicit sexual content, small dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms (just 3 don’t get excited), unprotected sex, creampie, mild cumplay?, i think that’s all this is basically pwp but somehow 14k words ⇢ summary It’s been a little more than two years since you and Chanyeol started dating and you have never been so happy. Perhaps you are just blinded by love, but things are perfect and you cannot help but think it has something to do with having the love of your life always by your side. You also cannot help but think this kind of love lasts forever.—established relationship!au ⇢ a/n ok i really wasn’t planning on writing a sequel to greatest gift but then like 1 person asked me to & then i was inspired by 170727 kokobop chanyeol watch the fancam dudes that’s the exact outfit he wears in this & have been listening to forever religiously & really just wanted to write pcy saying ‘nice skirt’ so here we are. u don’t need to read greatest gift to read this but u will have more background info ab characters & relationships. ok that’s all from me, i really spilled my heart out into this one & am very proud so i hope u love satori as much as i do! ♥︎

In the midst of your monotonous Pinterest scrolling, the unlocking and opening of the front door tears your attention away from the video that so enticingly grasps your attention, no matter how badly you wish it to finish. Glancing up, you first look to the television, where your fourth episode of Property Brothers drones on, flickering light into the otherwise dark room. Then, it is Toben who catches your eye, head lifting from his position by your feet at the sound of the door clicking shut. So quick is he to abandon you, excitedly leaping down from the sofa to greet his human. In all honesty, you do not blame him; he simply is not as lazy as you are on this dreary Friday night.

Well, perhaps not so dreary anymore. Sure, the unremitting, hazy rain and grey clouds beyond the warm confines of your apartment beg to differ, but inside, the sun itself has entered.

“You know what’s sad?” You call out to him, lips quirked in amusement.

“What?” He answers from down the hall, followed by the rustle of his jacket as he hangs it onto the coat rack. The familiar deepness of his voice alone is enough to put you at ease; instantly, you feel like putty against the pillow propped beside you when you imagine his humored smile. At the sound of Toben’s nails scratching against the hardwood as he scurries back into the room, you take one last lingering glimpse to the video that has been playing on loop on your phone.

“I don’t know how to tie a tie.��

Making his way down the foyer, he laughs. Barely a low chuckle, mostly out of confusion at your out-of-the-blue statement, but this makes you crack a smile nonetheless.

“Why should you know how to tie a tie?”

You know he is finally here without having to look up. You can feel it, the way his presence beckons for your attention effortlessly, tugging at the strings of your heart and the cords to your soul. The way the room seems to instantly grow warmer, brighter, the way just seeing his frame, tall and regal in your peripheral vision, is enough to have your legs quivering with the need to have him closer. “I don’t know,” you snort, turning to look at him at last, “wouldn’t it be cute if I did your tie before we went out?”

“___, how often do we go places where a tie is necessary?” Chanyeol muses, though you don’t exactly pay any mind to his reasoning. It’s not that you are ignoring him, you’re just… taking time to engrave this image in your mind, just like every other day. He’s beautiful, you distantly note, the epitome of your dreams standing at the entrance of the living room like a beacon, blue light from the TV flashing against his oversized olive-green sweatshirt and hair falling in floofy curls over his forehead. His hair.

His hair.

Somewhere in between you slowly blinking at him in the dark and leaning forward to turn the light on, he asks how your day was. Now, this goes ignored, brain preoccupied trying to fully process the fact that his hair is pink.

“You— what? When?” Overlooking his question, you sputter, “I thought you were at work!”

Amused at your baffled astonishment, Chanyeol kicks his sneakers off near the shoe rack before making his way over, stifling a laugh at your rendered silence. “Do you like it?” He asks, scooping your legs up from the sofa so he can crash down close beside you, quickly laying them over his lap.

Pinterest ‘how to tie a tie’ video long forgotten, you toss your phone onto the coffee table and lean forward, grasping his face in both hands in order to lower the crown of his head to your nose. With only a single inhale, the accumulative scent of bleach and hair dye and everything salon nearly has your eyes watering before you drop your hands. At that, you lean back far enough to fully admire him in the light, cheeks and lips puffy from a long day, skin glowing with the remnants of misty rain, but the hair. Oh good God, the hair. A shade somewhere in between bubblegum pink and your favorite lip gloss, it has your insides alight with butterflies in seconds.

“And here I thought you couldn’t get any more handsome,” you finally sigh, burying your face into your palms. The anxiety that had begun fizzing in his nerves from your scrutinizing is immediately extinguished, replaced with a fresh wave of pride to his ego and, well, absolute adoration for you.

“Is that a yes?” Chanyeol laughs, loud and boisterous as he bends to awkwardly lie against you, paying no mind to the way the furniture creaks as he wiggles his way into the small space. “Duh,” you scoff, moving your arm so he can better nestle his long ass self between your legs, “I thought red was my favorite, but now I’m not so sure.” When he laughs again, you feel it in your soul, the vibrations resonating within you and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his shoulders, tugging him closer. Once he’s caught on that you desperately, always, crave for such proximity, Chanyeol instantly shimmies his way up, dimple prominent when you cup his face one more time to press a welcoming kiss first to his forehead, then his nose, then his lips. “I missed you.”

“I bet I missed you more,” he replies once satisfied five kisses later, turning his head to rest against his favorite pillow, aka your chest. Knowing you will never win in any such argument like this with him, you bite your tongue and take to combing your fingers through the freshly colored strands of hair, cringing at the thought that it won’t be this soft after he’s washed it. “So, what made you do this?”

He shrugs, half of his attention paid toward the renovation reveal displayed on the TV. “Thought I’d switch it up for Easter, so I just went before heading to the studio.”

“What did Jongdae think?” You wonder with a laugh. Out of all Chanyeol’s friends, Jongdae was never one to go for the extravagant hair colors. Orange was the extent of his spectrum, and even that was short-lived. “Said he liked it, then called me an Easter egg, so who knows,” he grumbles, clearly troubled by his friend’s lack of an immediate, one hundred percent approval. This in itself is enough to make you laugh, but you choose to change the subject for the sake of Chanyeol’s immeasurable ego. “Speaking of,” you hum, enamored with just the sliver of his face you can see from this angle, “how’s the album going?”

“It’s good,” Chanyeol hums, chin digging into your sternum when he turns to look at you once more, “Jongdae is gonna start recording on Monday.” As he says this, he stretches his arms above your head before flopping them down by your sides, one cold hand sneaking under the hem of your crew neck to splay against the warmth of your back. Now, this is mutualism at its finest: with the two of you seemingly always running at an internal temperature too high, you both are feens for a cold touch once in awhile. So, as Chanyeol gets to warm his hands up, you, too, benefit with the coolness against your burning skin. It also may have to do with that time he had ice cubes against your—

You shake your head to rid the tantalizing memory.

“I’m so excited to hear it,” you whisper without meaning to, perhaps reduced to mush at your current intimacy, “with his voice, knowing you wrote the majority of the album. Ah, it’s gonna be beautiful.” Pushing his bangs back and giving his scalp a good scratch all the way to the nape of his neck, you add with a wrinkle of your nose, “I wish it was you, though.”

Chanyeol lets out an amused snort, one eye peeled open to glare at you for disrupting the drowsy daze you have cast him under. “But you already have my singing all to yourself, you don’t need an album,” he mutters, voice marbled with sleep and your fingers twitch with the need to trace the swell of his pouty lips. You do it, anyway, and receive a chaste kiss to the pad of your thumb in return.

“How was the museum?” He asks nearly ten minutes later, stirring just slightly to stretch the arm not curled around you up and past your head. You were under the impression he was fast asleep if the shallowness of his breath was anything to go by. Perhaps not. “Slow Friday, as usual,” you sigh, aching to stretch, too, now that the weight of having a grown ass man on you has finally taken its toll, “had a live animal show with the barn owl and Branch, again.”

“Branch is the new opossum, right?” Chanyeol questions, suddenly pushing himself up enough to sit back on his heels. He must have noticed your stiffness. Offering him an appreciative smile, you lean up and fluff the now squashed pillow beneath you before flopping back down on your side. “Yeah,” you hum, pulling him down to rejoin you, “he’s cute. Imprinted, too, so he loves cuddles. Almost as much as you.” It’s awfully cramped with your back pressed up against the leather and Chanyeol flush against you, but you would never complain about having him so close. You usually can’t get close enough.

“I’ll never forget the raccoons. They were so cute,” Chanyeol hums, reminiscent to the singular time your boss allowed you to sneak him in to meet all of the museum’s disabled animals. With his hipbone pressed against the curve of your stomach, he slots one long leg between your own, surely building his nest even though he should eat and shower before getting comfortable. “That was fun,” you agree, pausing for just a moment when his hand, large enough to cradle half of your face, comes to do so. “They were hella messy though, ugh,” grumbling, you return his previous gesture and press a kiss to the palm of his hand when his thumb goes about running along your bottom lip, “I’ll never forget the time Lavender shit in their enclosure asI was cleaning it.”

Chanyeol frowns, brows quickly drawing together and the sudden change in his expression certainly throws you off guard. “Don’t talk about raccoon shit when I’m about to kiss you,” he murmurs, leaning up on one elbow to ever so slightly hover over you.

“Oh?” You chuckle, dragging your hands up the ridges of muscle in his arms to link behind his neck. “I didn’t know that was your plan.” Like this, you still can’t fight your smile at just how well the pink hair compliments the warmth of his honey complexion.

Lips jutting out in a deeper pout, Chanyeol slips his hand under your shirt to grab ahold of your waist. “That’s always my plan,” he sighs longingly, finally swooping down to capture your lips in a kiss powerful enough for the world around you to fall away.

When you wake, you come to realize three abnormalities.

First, your pillow is not where it should be. Flat on your stomach and limbs spread like a starfish, you raise your head just enough to catch the corner of said pillow staring at you sadly from the floor below.

Second, you are cold. This, you have no one to blame but yourself, having torn your clothes off in a hurry and fallen asleep soaked in the warmth of one another. Now, with the blankets only coming up mid-back, you cannot fight your shivers at the cold air against your bare skin.

And lastly, Chanyeol is still awake.

It takes several moments for you to come to your senses, feeling as if you have awoken from a season long hibernation, the haze and confusion of having abruptly awakened rendering you incompetent when it comes to gathering your wits for several moments. Finally, once you have realized where you are, you first take to wiping at the drool that has pooled directly onto the sheets and, consequently, crusted onto your cheek. Nice. Pausing just a moment to collect your disoriented thoughts once more, you then lean half your body off the bed to retrieve your pillow with a grunt, and, just a little further away, your shirt. On your way back up, you catch the time on your nightstand shining an angry 2:43 am at you.

“What are you still doing up?” You ask, voice groggy and thick with sleep once you have flopped onto your back, chest heaving with the unnecessary effort you just had to exert in the middle of your weekend slumber. Squinting past the shine of the bedside lamp he’s kept on and the bright screen of his laptop, you recline just enough to see that he’s… online shopping?

“Baekhyun showed me this really cool site for colored contacts,” Chanyeol explains, then, after turning to you with furrowed brows and a worried pout, “did I wake you?”

God, you’re confused, brain in no state to try and figure out why he’s looking at colored contacts at almost three in the morning when he had fallen asleep with you no more than four hours ago. “No, no… well, actually, I don’t know, I think I just woke up on my own,” you murmur, sitting up to pull the crew neck over your head, “why… why are you looking at contacts, again?”

The rasp of his chuckle is enough to draw you closer, rolling to meet his side and pressing your cheek against his shoulder. “Baekhyun said blue contacts with pink hair is a good look, so I’m gonna order a pair,” he whispers, lifting his arm despite your grumble of protest to curl around your shoulders and tug you close. The white light from his laptop is a bit too harsh on your eyes, but you manage to keep one half open to peek at the selection. Then, “You’re so weird. Go to bed.”

“I will, after I order,” he whispers for the sake of letting you fall back asleep, yet you can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, whatever,” you grunt, turning onto your other side but still latching onto his arm, “get me a pair, too.”

For the brief time in between living with college roommates and then moving with Chanyeol, sleeping in on Saturday mornings in the comfort of your own apartment was always your favorite. No obligations, no work, and certainly no one to disturb you. Whether you finally rolled out of bed at ten, one, or four o’clock--- it didn’t matter. If you had plans at night, you still had plenty of time to get ready and you were in a much better mood to socialize than the other days of the week. Sleeping in on Saturdays till whatever time deemed sufficient simply brings about a whole new level of comfort and consists of several factors at the root of such leisure.

This list certainly became askew, however, once you and Chanyeol began spending nights with one another. Before, simply waking to a quiet apartment, ceiling fan humming and sunlight trickling through the bottom of your blinds was your favorite part of the week. But waking up with the love of your life curled into you certainly makes this experience all the better. And at this point, it seems as if waking up with the warmth of Chanyeol’s breath against the nape of your neck will remain at the top of your list forever.

So, for that to be absent is enough to startle you into an upright position only seconds after you have opened your eyes. Palm coming to slap against the deserted Chanyeol-indented space of mattress beside you, you stroke up and down the sheets, once, twice, before the lingering warmth on the pillow and sheets eases your nerves. Spinning to catch the time, you squint as if that will kickstart the drowsy parts of your brain to comprehend 12:37 pm and all the possible reasons why he is not here with you before tossing the blankets aside and rising with a much-needed stretch.

Shielding your eyes from the sunlight seeping in from between the blinds, you first reach for your underwear tossed haphazardly by the window before half-shimmying them up your legs and half-hopping to the door. Perhaps he’s in the office, you wonder, stepping into the foyer but alas, the door remains open and the lights off. Just as you’ve wandered into the living room, scratching by the front door to the right of you is immediately followed by the lock clicking open and, seconds later, Chanyeol has returned.

You’re a little thrown off. Sweatpants, wrinkled t-shirt, moccasins, and a terribly cute case of bedhead, it seems as if he just rolled out of bed seconds prior. But in his hands, he holds two full grocery bags and Toben’s leash.

“Good morning,” he smiles softly, eyes puffy with sleep. Yep, definitely just woke up. “Mom called,” he explains, lifting the bags before passing them to you so he can unhook Toben, “said something about… someone else not being able to cook a main for tomorrow... so she asked if we could do the Easter bread and brought all the stuff for it.” He explains as you rummage through the groceries. Milk, yeast, a carton of eggs; all things you have here, but Mrs. Park’s kindness never fails to surprise you. “Ah,” humming, you make way for the kitchen counter to set everything down, “I was very confused.”

“Sorry,” joining you in the kitchen, Chanyeol curls an arm around your waist and tugs you closer to kiss your temple, “I didn’t want to wake you.” Lining all the dry ingredients up for later, you hand him the rest to put in the refrigerator. “Well, thank you,” flashing him an appreciative smile, you finally take to rubbing your eyes as it seems you won’t be going back to bed anytime soon, “do you want anything to eat? I can make eggs if you make pancakes.” Crust sufficiently wiped from your eyes, you lean against the cabinets and glance to Chanyeol, soaking in the way he seems to glow in the sunlight illuminating him and the messy curls of pink hair. Ugh. He’s the worst.

“Breakfast sounds good,” he agrees, gaze flickering down to your bare legs for hardly a second before taking two short steps closer and suddenly, you’re not so sure he means eggs and pancakes if the way his eyes darken is anything to go by.

“You should probably put some pants on, first,” Chanyeol rumbles with a thoughtful rise of his brows, one hand anchoring onto the curve of your waist while another dips into the waistband of your panties before letting it slap back against your skin.

Despite the burning desire that flares in your abdomen at the daring move, you jut your chin out, eyeing him contentiously. “Oh! You’re right,” smirking, you force yourself to avoid making eye contact in order to calmly slip out of his grip, “let me go grab some sweats.”

You’ve hardly made it to the dining table by the time he’s back on you, reaching for your wrist and spinning you to meet his chest. At the near growl that escapes him, you quite literally quiver from head to toe. “So funny, I forgot to laugh,” Chanyeol grumbles, gripping the back of your thighs to help you onto the wood before diving in to kiss you.

It quite literally sucks the life out of you, but then again, that’s every kiss with him. “I thought it was pretty funny,” you giggle before he really has you loopy on the taste of him, but it doesn’t take long for your jaw to slacken, allowing him further access. So quickly you fall under his spell, fingers curling into the hairs at the nape of his neck and legs coming to wrap around his waist when the kiss turns into nothing more than a clash of teeth and tongue. It doesn’t take long for him to rid you of your shirt, either, or have you lying back before him as he places hot, open-mouthed kisses all the way down from your throat to the waistband of your underwear. Christ, this poor table.

Good thing this is the only such meal ever eaten here.

Out of fear that he would stop once you mentioned anything, you have never complimented Chanyeol on his shower singing. Sure, you have heard him loud and clear throughout your home and sometimes even when he’s secluded in his office, but something tells you singing in the shower is different. You wouldn’t necessarily call it an invasion of privacy considering no such privacy exists in your relationship by now, but you simply do not want to mention it because knowing him, he subconsciously will either sing quieter or amp it up knowing you are listening in. And you don’t want him to change what he’s already doing.

With your back facing the bathroom door, you remain in the same position Chanyeol left you in, on your side with your head on his pillow rather than your own. You should probably get out of bed soon, anyway, the colon between the ten and forty-three on the clock blinking at you in judgment, but listening to Chanyeol sing along to a fourth Radiohead song with the luxurious smell of him around you is a much better alternative. You have plenty of time to get ready, you tell yourself, nestling deeper into the pillow, only seconds before Chanyeol’s singing ceases as he turns the water off. Frowning, you take this as your cue to give up any possible five-minute nap and return to your side of the bed to retrieve your phone.

“Are you up?” Chanyeol calls from behind the door just as you have opened up Instagram. “Yeah!”

He opens the door at your confirmation, showering steam and light into the otherwise cave-like bedroom. “I’m gonna have to leave soon,” Chanyeol says once you have rolled over to look him, towel wrapped snuggly around his hips and Q-tip in ear, “Mom is in her usual panic and asked if I could help her out.” Frowning, you flop onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. “What ever am I to do without you for two and a half hours?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he hums, making his way over and leaning over you, arms coming to rest at each side of your head. You twitch when a droplet of water running down his jaw falls onto your cheek.  “G’morning, by the way,” he mumbles against your lips after coming closer and you graciously return the soft kiss he offers you. Of course, you pull him back for a second, much deeper one, smiling when he ever so slightly shifts when your fingers come to trail up the toned expanse of his stomach, hand coming to cradle his jaw.

You pull back with a sly smile when his tongue threatens to push past the seam of your lips. “Do you know what you’re wearing?” You ask, ignoring the betrayed look in his eyes when you sit up and nudge him out of the way. “No,” he grumbles, returning to the bathroom once he realizes he is not getting anything more than a kiss. Stifling a laugh, you swing your legs over and sit on the edge of the mattress, watching him comb product through his hair. After two showers, it already seems to have lost its initial pop of color. Sad.

Rising with a stretch, you head toward the closet and stop along the way to pull a pair of sweatpants up your legs—just so he doesn’t get any ideas—and flip the closet light on before opening the doors. At the sound of the hairdryer roaring to life, you take to sifting through the shirts he has hung up, trying to avoid the blacks as this is his family’s annual Easter get-together. It certainly is not as extravagant as Christmas, but Chanyeol is a man of style and you know he prides himself showing up as best dressed. Going something pastel would be a nice change for the spring season, but yet again… you linger on a navy button-up. The white decal means he could wear white pants, but it is a little casual, barely a step up from a Hawaiian shirt, but maybe he could wear a nice jacket with it.

Plucking it by the hanger, you turn toward the bathroom and hold the seemingly unworn shirt out to him as he moves to the last section of damp hair. “This, with white pants? Do you have a jacket this color?” You shout over the hairdryer, reaching to brush away a tuft of hair falling in his eyes. Chanyeol considers it for a moment, gaze flickering back to his reflection before nodding to you. “Yeah, in the other closet, though. Thank you,” you just barely hear him but smile nonetheless, stealing the dryer from him to direct the hot air toward the back where hair refuses to lay flat.

Passing it back to him when you’re done, he only does one more run through before switching it off and moving on to gel just to assure the hair he has combed back stays up and away from his forehead. “You look really handsome with it parted like that,” you compliment, staring up at him with wide eyes and you mentally slap yourself at how flustered you sound. Dating for over two years and you still can’t get a grip. The look on his face makes your embarrassment worth it, though. “I had no idea how the back looked, so thank you,” Chanyeol chuckles, rinsing residue gel off his hands before unplugging the hairdryer and ushering you back into your bedroom. Not without another kiss, of course. As a treat.

Hooking the hanger with his shirt onto the doorknob of the closet, you take to undressing as he does the opposite, tossing your sleep apparel to the hamper and only stopping to help him redo the buttons of his shirt he so kindly misaligned. “I’m gonna get in the shower,” you hum, goosebumps coming in waves when his hand comes to glide against your bare skin, starting at your waist, up the curve of your breast, over your collarbones and finally cradling your neck, “I’ll see you in a little bit?”

“Yes ma’am,” he affirms, ducking to peck the corner of your mouth, “I’ll get an Uber so you can have the car?”

“No! You drive, don’t you have to pick stuff up? I’ll Uber,” you offer, wrapping your arms around him and blinking up at him with your chin sitting on his chest. When he shakes his head you realize, as usual, there’s no point in arguing. “It’s fine,” Chanyeol grins, pinching your side, “no one else gets to drive my girl but me.” Rolling your eyes to counteract the heat that flares its way up your neck, you pull away, smoothing out the wrinkles you made in his shirt. “Yeah, whatever. Don’t forget a jacket.”

“I won’t,” smiling, he leans over to give you a proper kiss this time, “see you at two.”

Once the Park family, as well as distant relatives and close friends, found out you and Chanyeol were together, things certainly changed.

You were no longer simply Seoyun’s best friend. Everyone knew you at that point, sure, accepted the fact that where Seoyun went, you followed, but dating Chanyeol had all the stage lights pointing to you. You couldn’t necessarily understand why that came to be, but assumed that it simply had to do with how popular he is, even in his own family. For someone not nearly as outgoing as Chanyeol, the news came as a surprise to many on that monumental Christmas party two years ago. Others, however, apparently had their bets on when the two of you would finally crumble for years.

Chanyeol’s mother, for example, was one such person.

For as many things that went wrong this morning, from your straightener not heating past one-fifty, to having a breakdown over what to wear, and even messing up your eyeliner one too many times, you have somehow arrived seven minutes early. Before you left, Chanyeol had called, too, asking you to pick up two bottles of soju and a bag of glass noodles because 1) him and his cousins already managed their way through a bottle and 2) the noodle pack his mom picked up was half the serving she needed. This alone tells you you’re in for a long night.

Christ, it would have been nice if he was here to open the door for you, though. With a heavy grocery bag, wrapped Easter bread, keys, and handbag threatening to slip off your shoulder, it takes ample effort to safely hook your pinkie finger around the grocery bag so you can lock the car. Then, you manage to open the storm door with your elbow, seconds away from dropping the Easter bread in the endeavor. Chanyeol claims he forgot it on the counter. Luckily, the maroon front door with its pretty spring wreath has been left ajar, and it isn’t until you have finally slipped your way inside does someone realize whoever’s huffing and puffing out there needs help.

“Here, I’ll take this,” he offers in a rush, further opening the door to accommodate the two of you and taking the bread from your arms.

“Thank you,” you smile, wiping your boots on the welcome mat before looking up to your knight in shining armor.

Oh. Oh.

“I don’t think I’ve met you before,” you chuckle, squinting at the ridiculously attractive stranger. Phew. There’s no way you would have missed such a face in all your years with the Park family whether Chanyeol was the apple of your eye or not.

“No, you haven’t. This is my first rodeo around here,” he grins brightly. His smile makes him even more attractive, if that is possible. “I’m Jongin. Nice to meet you…?”

Oh. Oh.

“Jongin, as in Kim Jongin Park Seoyun’s boyfriend?”

“Yes…?” He trails off awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “You apparently know me, yet I don’t know you.”

“I’m ___,” you laugh, stepping past him and leading him out of the front foyer. When you glance back at him, you can see the gears turning in his brain before an excited expression of recognition flashes across his face. “Oh! Oh, shit. You’re the infamous ___. Christ, sorry. Hi.”

“I’m not sure why you’re apologizing, but then again, I have no idea what that woman has said about me,” laughing, you pause to wave to some of Chanyeol’s cousins in the family room before continuing with Jongin to the kitchen, “don’t trust anything she says. I promise I’m nice. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, though, Mr. Jongin.”

“Ah, you as well,” smiling softly, he seems quite overwhelmed at the Park’s rowdiness, gaze anxiously flickering around the crowded room as he ever so slightly steps closer. You distantly wonder why Seoyun would leave him stranded, but that’s not your problem. “So, if you are ___, does that mean you’re…”

Like some sort of cartoon, Jongin trails off just as both of you find Chanyeol in the crowd, beer in one hand and bowl in another as his mother deposits what looks like mussel and scallop shells into it. Maybe it’s your automatic Chanyeol-tunnel-vision, but even in the midst of the busy room he seems to be the rising star, standing tall and regal by the counter, laugh booming over all the noise and simply glowing in the warm wash of light. He managed to find a navy jacket practically matching his shirt, too. Dear God. “Yeah,” once you finally tear your gaze away to turn to Jongin, he’s already watching you, smiling at the way you so lovingly looked at Chanyeol. “I’m the lucky lady.”

“Hey, he’s the lucky one,” Jongin adds, nudging you with his elbow. Seoyun certainly got a good one. “Speaking of lucky,” you start, craning your neck to search for said girl, “where’s S—”

“___!”

You are so kindly interrupted by your intoxicated boyfriend shouting for you across the room. Flushing in embarrassment and trying to ignore all the heads that turn in your direction at the sudden announcement of your arrival, you reclaim the Easter bread from Jongin’s arm, offering him an appreciative bow. “I’ll catch up with you later. Tell Seoyun I was looking for her.”

At his affirmative smile, you suck in a deep breath before spinning around and maneuvering your way to where Chanyeol and his mother stand by the oven. “I was wondering where you were,” he greets, setting his beer down to take the bread and soju from your hands before squashing your nose in a deep kiss that his mother and family really did not need to see. Blinking at him in surprise, you don’t even bother asking him what the hell that was about and turn toward Mrs. Park instead, who has just finished wiping her hands before opening her arms for you.

“It’s wonderful to see you, love,” she hums when you wholeheartedly accept her embrace, arms coming to wrap around her. “You too, Ma,” pulling back just enough to look at her with a brow raised, “I hope he helped you enough before he started drinking, or do I need to have a talk with him?”

She laughs, plucking up a wooden spoon to stir what looks like kimchi stew. “No, he helped a great deal. Vacuumed before anyone arrived and helped make a few things with his sister,” she explains, gaze lighting up when you pull the pack of glass noodles from the grocery bag. “Oh! Thank you so much, dear. I was so angry when I saw how little was in my bag,” then, turning to yell out over her guests, “Yura! Come finish your japchae!”

“Go grab something to drink, ___. Dinner will be ready in an hour or so, there’s plenty of appetizers out already. Thank you, again,” Mrs. Park grins brightly at you, squeezing your hand before returning to chopping vegetables. Crumbling the plastic grocery bag in your hand, you turn to Chanyeol who appears to be deep in conversation with a couple standing across from him, but you can tell by the way he keeps grazing over the appetizers on the counter next to him and avoiding eye contact that he is in desperate need of an escape. This being said, he still jolts in surprise when you return to his side, one hand curling around his bicep as the other glides down his arm to intertwine your fingers with his. The woman droning on pauses her chatter at this, the corner of her lip twitching up and she takes this as her cue to move on, offering the two of you a wink before dragging her husband, assumingly, out to the back patio.

“Ugh, thank you,” Chanyeol grins once the door shuts behind them, looking down at you with puckered lips, “I missed you.” Snorting, you let go of his arm to move to the now open spot beside him, eyeing all the pickies laid out in front of you. “Was going to make fun of you, but I missed you, too, so it looks like we’re both clowns,” you sigh, grabbing a fork to stab into a slice of mozzarella. Chanyeol stays quiet, opting to fondly watch you instead, smile only growing when you try one of everything. “Oh,” you remember, pausing to swallow the last bit of spicy chicken, “I’m glad you found a jacket. You look great.” You kiss the tips of your fingers, waving them just for emphasis.

Chanyeol’s grin is instantaneous, stretching his arms in front of him and literally checking himself out in front of you. You’re not judging, of course— if you looked half as good as him all the time, you would do the same. Plus, navy does wonders against his skin tone. “Thank you,” arm curling around you, he gives your side an affectionate squeeze, “you don’t look too bad yourself.”

Smiling at his compliment, you continue to make your way through the appetizers. Plucking up a cube of cheese, it isn’t until you have bitten half do you realize your mistake. “Ew,” you cough, sticking your tongue out as if that will rid your taste buds of the sharp provolone flavor. Nose wrinkling, you hold the other half out to him, “Here, you like fancy shit like this.” What you certainly do not expect is for him to go right ahead and bite the cheese straight from your fingers, lips just barely wrapping around your thumb. Despite the way your stomach swoops at the action and the way he stands back to his full height, lids hooded and gaze dark, your first instinct is to look around you, heart racing at the thought of one of Chanyeol’s aunts or uncles watching him eat cheese from between your fingers. Christ, it sounds even worse when you think about it.

Swallowing past the sudden dryness in your throat, you tell yourself you know this dance— you know how to handle Chanyeol just as much as he knows how to handle you. Slowly turning back to him, all you offer is a challenging rise of your brow before reaching for a different cheese, trying to ignore the way your pulse races just by having him close.

As you search for a cracker, perhaps even a pretzel, you see from the corner of your eye how disgruntled he is with your reaction, considering you with a flare of his nostrils and a pout of his bottom lip. Plan B, it is.

Squeezing your side harder, Chanyeol leans in close this time, brushing hair away from your ear with his other hand before whispering, “Nice skirt.” Now, this certainly nurses a much better effect, the richness and deepness of his voice alone dripping like chocolate into the very core of your being. It’s only a two-word compliment, yet you practically choke on your mouthful of food. When he tugs at the hem of the plaid wool skirt you wear, two thoughts momentarily cross your mind: 1) the compliment is nice, especially since you were worried it was a bit shabby looking but 2) he may just be saying that to get a rise out of you.

“Thanks,” you murmur, summoning the courage to slide your palm from the waistband of his slacks, all the way up his chest to finally cup his jaw before standing on your tippy-toes, pushing yourself to meet his ear. The ball is in your court, now. “Bet you’d like it better if it was off, no?”

You don’t miss the way his breath hitches, grip on your waist tugging you closer and you distantly hope it simply looks at if the two of you are deep in conversation. Over cheese and whatnot, of course. “Don’t tempt me, ___,” Chanyeol hisses, “I’ve fucked you with my family just beyond a door, you know I’d gladly take you on the counter right now for everyone to see your pretty pussy.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Alarms. Panic. Shit, now you’re wet. What have you started? Maybe you don’t know how to handle Chanyeol as well as you think— he undoubtedly has your tongue tied now. You can’t even begin to think of a response that doesn’t involve tearing off the lace shirt you spent so long ironing for him to fulfill such an alluring threat. He must feel how you tremble against him, heat burning from the inside out and suddenly he’s withdrawing, regarding you with his own challenging brow raise, eyes dark with hunger as he awaits your response.

“Hey, Chanyeol! Stop hiding ___ from me!”

The relief you feel comes in cooling waves, jerking you out of your trance and you turn just in time to see Seoyun stop in front of you, finger jabbing into Chanyeol’s chest. “Can’t you back off for like, two seconds?” She barks, oblivious to his heavy breaths. Then, pulling Jongin who was hidden behind her to Chanyeol’s side, “You two, meet. Talk. Do the bro thing while I drink some mimosas with my girl.” Oh, good. You sure could use one of those. Or two. Or three.

Chanyeol puts his arms up in defense, glancing at Jongin who only shrugs in identical stupefaction. “Perfect! Okay, see you guys later. Don’t bother us, we have girl things to talk about,” Seoyun threatens, shooting a second cold glare to Chanyeol before softening up and smiling softly. Then, she’s dragging you toward the back door, hardly giving you time to look back at Chanyeol.

When you do, you know that threat won’t be forgotten easily.

After ‘dinner’ sometime around three-thirty, the hours start to blend together, four turning to six, and then all of a sudden, it’s eight o’clock. Family gatherings seemingly always go like this—when you were kids, this was time spent running around outside, about the house, playing games or opening presents (depending on the occasion). Now, this is when things mellow down; from chugging mimosas with Seoyun in the backyard, you now opt for wine, just to seem sophisticated, and the atmosphere is much calmer. Peak adulting, right here.

While many family and friends leave once the post-dinner sleepiness fades, close relatives remain, gathering together and using the time to share stories and life updates. These are always your favorite times with the Parks. And even though Chanyeol is on probation, sitting on another sofa across the room for the stunt he pulled earlier—no, the other stunt, where he held your thigh during dinner but kept inching up until his fingers brushed along your panties when his aunt was sitting right next to you—tonight, in particular, has been one of the best nights spent with your second family.

Every so often, usually when you are PMSing, a dreadful thought enters your mind and always returns whenever you are with Chanyeol’s family: you love them just as much as you love him. It was Seoyun, not Chanyeol, who introduced you to them first, and you have spent more than a decade growing up with them. It goes without explanation that you consider them as your own family now, too. So, what if you and Chanyeol broke up? You are an adult now, so it’s not like Seoyun would ask you to join her for the company like she had when you were kids, and it wouldn’t make sense for Chanyeol’s parents or aunts and uncles or grandparents to invite you… You would not only lose Chanyeol, but your family, too, and that’s enough to make any grown woman cry.

So, looking around the living room full of many people you have grown to love, you try to make the best of it. Not that you think you and Chanyeol are going to break up, no, but it is an inescapable fear that you will never be able to simply ignore.

But you can brush it aside for right now, at least— especially when you are curled into Mrs. Park’s side with Seoyun’s head on your lap.

“Are you guys gonna get married?” Your best friend asks, completely out of the blue. You just finished ranking your favorite teas, now we’re talking about marriage? “Um,” you cough, glancing up to Ma for help but she’s looking at you with an identical expectant rise of her brows. Must be a Park thing. Christ, what is this, the girl’s gossip table in fourth period lunch? Still… are you going to get married? You can’t necessarily answer that on your own. You have no idea what Chanyeol is planning for his future, sure, you’d like to get married, but you are also not in any rush, and—

“Yes,” is what you say, before your mind has even caught up. “Wait!” You quickly add on, smacking a palm to your forehead. Then, “Yes… I’d like to get married. But I don’t know if he wants to, and even if he does, we’re in no rush, he’s been busy producing and…” Trailing off, your gaze has somehow wound up to the ceiling, and when you glance back to them, their features have noticeably softened, eyes glossy with joy.

“I love him, a lot,” you say, quieter, gentler this time, zoning in on Chanyeol across the room and his pretty smile and the way the whole room seems to light up when he laughs. “If he wants to get married, I’ll marry him. And if he doesn’t… well, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait forever, for him.”

“My boy is more than in love with you, ___. You’re his whole world,” Mrs. Park says and when you tilt your head up at her, the look in her eyes suddenly makes you want to cry. Again. It’s from the wine, you tell yourself. “If he doesn’t put a ring on it soon, I’m gonna fuck his shit up,” Seoyun snaps, the alcohol in her system clearly doing the talking here as she stares absentmindedly up at the popcorn ceiling. Laughing, you slap a hand over your mouth, expecting Ma to reprimand her niece for such language in front of her. Instead, she joins in and soon enough, the combined laughter from the three of you has all of your earlier worries washed away.

“What’s so funny, ladies?” It’s Mr. Park here to interrupt this time, an amused smile forcing a dimple in his left cheek. “Ah, nothing, honey,” Ma coughs out one last giggle before reaching for her husband’s hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Just making fun of Yeol.”

“Oh, my favorite. What did he do this time?”

“He hasn’t asked ___ to marry him yet,” Seoyun pipes up from your lap, head tilting further back so she can look at her uncle.

“Why do I keep hearing my name over there?” Chanyeol shouts, leaning up far too quickly from his relaxed position and you can tell by the way his head bobbles that he has had one too many drinks with his uncles and cousins. Looks like you better slow down if you want to get home safely. “Because you’re paranoid!” You shout back, scrunching your nose at him because you know he knows you’re right. Frowning, he motions with two fingers that he will be watching you before returning to his own conversation.

“So, you met Jongin,” Seoyun starts once Mr. and Mrs. Park have fallen into a separate discussion beside you. You’ve had this conversation twice, already, but you don’t mind having it again.

“I have,” you hum, softly adjusting the weight of her head on your thighs so you can sit more comfortably, “I can’t believe you guys have been friends since university and this is the first time I’m meeting him.”

“Well… it’s not like we hung out all that much. We haven’t been in touch for a while,” Seoyun mumbles, eyelids fluttering closed once you begin combing through her hair.

“I refuse to believe that. There’s no way you would have given up a man that good-looking.”

“Hey!” She grumbles, smacking your knee. “He was abroad senior year! And then life just kind of took over. He had a girlfriend for a while after graduation, too. We only started talking again when I bumped into him in Target last year.”

“Mhm, sure,” you hum, looking up to find him. Your heart does somersaults once you find him seated on the same sofa as Chanyeol, cool as a cucumber compared to how overwhelmed he seemed earlier. “I’m happy he seems so comfortable with the family. I’m happy for you, too.”

The playful gleam in her eyes softens as she leans up, sitting up to face you properly. Then, squeezing your hands, “I’m happy, too. Ever since you and Chanyeol started dating… I wanted what you had so, so bad. And I know we’ve only been together for five months, but I’ve never been so happy with someone.”

“Do you love him?” You whisper, searching her face when she turns to look at Jongin across the room. You can see it— the look in her eyes, the complete and utter adoration and admiration. You see it because you’ve felt it, too. You’ve felt it looking at Chanyeol, and you’ve felt it when he looks at you.

“I do. I love him a lot, actually,” Seoyun finally admits, turning back to you and for the first time in years, you see genuine tears trail down her cheeks. “Oh, no,” you hush, dabbing under her eyes to make sure her mascara doesn’t run, “shh, don’t cry. I know they’re happy tears but your makeup looks too good for that.” Pulling her into a hug, you cradle her head into your shoulder and hope no one is looking at her strangely.

“I know,” Seoyun hiccups, squeezing you tightly, “I’m just so drunk and happy for you and for me, I couldn’t help it.”

Laughing, you push her back before cupping her cheeks, wiping at the stray tears. “It’s alright. Crying when you’re happy is a good thing. It means you’re doing something right, Seoyun.” Smiling despite the wetness of her cheeks, she straightens up, dabbing away tears under her chin before cupping your face as well. “Thank you for being such an amazing best friend all these years,” Seoyun says, reaching forward and planting a hefty kiss to your lips, “but I think it’s time for us to go home. Show Jongin how much I really love him.”

When she stands, you’re still trying to process the unexpected kiss she just gave you but brush it aside for now, considering you’ve kissed plenty of times in your years of friendship. “Alright,” standing up after her, you give her one last hug, “text me when you get home.”

“I will. You have a good night too, ___. Chanyeol’s been eating you up alive for the past hour,” winking, Seoyun finally turns away to bid her farewells to the rest of her family. Speaking of Chanyeol… you step around Seoyun and make your way toward him, desperately trying to ignore the way his gaze travels slowly up your approaching form.

“Hey,” he greets when you reach him, tugging you by the wrist to sit on his lap. Luckily, the family surrounding him are turned the opposite direction toward the television, leaving your intimacy to go unnoticed. “Hi,” you return, arm draping over his shoulders and fingers burying into his hair. “You ready to head home?” Chanyeol asks, arms wrapping around you to pull you closer so he can nestle into the crook of your shoulder. “I’m ready when you are,” humming, you take to tracing patterns against the skin of his neck, resting your head atop his as your eyelids threaten to flutter shut.

Reaching for your other hand, Chanyeol brings it to his lips to kiss your knuckles. “Y’know, nothing makes me happier than seeing you cozied up with my mom.”

“Well, I think she was pretty impressed by our fantastic Easter bread.”

Snorting, he brings his head back to look at you. “It was pretty good,” he agrees. Then, cradling your jaw, “But it’s more than that. Having the two most important women in my life get along so well means so much to me, ___.” Bringing you closer, Chanyeol finally kisses you, soft and slow and when your eyes close, you feel right back at home, warm all over and overflowing with ardor. “Come on,” nuzzling the tip of your nose with his, “finish your drink and then let’s go home.”

“We need to plan things more often. Mom and I want to see you more than once a month,” was the last thing Mr. Park said to you before you left for the night.

“I love you very much, sweetie. Keep in touch,” Ma had whispered in your ear as you hugged her goodbye.

This is all you can think about as you drive home. Chanyeol was much drunker than he led on, so with him knocked out in the passenger seat, head against the window, you’re left to your own thoughts. The soft lo-fi Chanyeol begged to put on the radio before he passed out doesn’t help, either, but the overall peace and quiet is enough to have you dwelling over your night.

This week leading up to Easter has been especially rainy, too, and even now as you lower the cruise control to sixty-five, hazy rain begins to set on the windshield. Switching on the wipers, you steal a quick glance to Chanyeol who stirs once you move back into the middle lane. And as much as you want to reach over and hold his hand, you don’t want to disturb him.

Maybe it has to do with all the time spent catching up with Seoyun, but you’re left in an overly nostalgic, sentimental mood.

There was quite a lot of talk about love tonight. What Mrs. Park and Seoyun dumped on you about marriage certainly threw you off. Sure, you definitely have imagined marriage and Chanyeol in the same picture, but it was never a topic either of you openly discussed. It just never came up. Despite the fact you have been dating for over two years, sometimes it feels as if you’re still in the honeymoon stage with how perfect things have been. You’ve had your fair share of fights, sure, but nothing ever large enough to have you questioning your relationship. Your mother always told you living together, managing finances together, and raising a child together (Toben) is the true test of love.

But you and Chanyeol have done all that already. You’ve been living together for quite some time, and there’s nothing he does that makes you want to rip your hair out like some couples seem to experience. And, while he does tease you over little habits, he has never mentioned something that seriously infuriates him, either. The two of you share everything at this point, and you can’t imagine marriage seriously making all that of a difference.

Just the life-long commitment.

But when you look at him now, you realize there is no other way you would want to live out the rest of your life. You can’t imagine ever finding someone after Chanyeol, someone you could possibly love more— as you’ve said from the get-go, it’s always been him. From the time you first thought he was cute in sixth grade, to senior year when you realized you loved him, to Christmas two years ago, to now, there’s no one else you would or could ever devote yourself to.

It’s always been him, and it will be forever.

“Chanyeol,” you whisper, then, realizing such gentleness will not wake the giant, you reach over to pat his thigh. “Chanyeol, we’re almost home.”

Chanyeol grumbles, a deep, growling noise that supports just how far gone he is. “What time is it?” He asks groggily, stretching his long limbs and cracking his neck from side to side. “Almost ten,” you hum in reply, quickly glancing to the time on the dash before taking one last turn onto the street of your apartment complex. It’s strange to see the city so dead on a Sunday night.

“___,” Chanyeol groans somewhere behind you as you hurriedly make your way through the parking lot. It was not this cold earlier. “Why are you walking so fast? I thought heels made people slow.” Stopping, you look down to your high boots, realizing that in your rush to get inside you had not even realized just how sore the bottom of your feet are. “I’m cold,” you whine back, bouncing on your toes and crossing your arms in an attempt to contain some body heat as Chanyeol sluggishly makes his way toward you. Maybe if you hold his hand or something he’ll move quicker.

“Come on,” you mumble, intertwining your fingers with his and tugging him along.

You don’t get there any quicker.

You barely manage to open the door with the way Chanyeol clings, hugging from behind and nearly tripping you with those clumsy feet of his. “Chanyeol,” you whine for at least the fifth time, borderline annoyed but watching him scowl at the eight stairs he has to climb like they’re some sort of math problem is quite amusing. “Come on, you big baby,” you decide to meet him halfway, reaching out for his hand and hauling him up with you. When you finally make it to the top, he’s reduced you to a giggling mess and uses it to his advantage, pushing you toward the wall.

“I’m not a baby,” he huffs, breath heavy with the amount of effort he just had to exert. “Yes, you are. C’mon, when we get inside, I’ll swaddle you in your favorite blankie and read you a bedtime story,” you taunt. Still, you find yourself spreading your legs just a tad wider for him to slot his thigh in between, his nostrils flared and frown deep as he towers over you, caging you in.

He chooses not to verbally reply. Instead, one rough hand anchors itself to your waist while the other slides to cup the side of your neck, thumb tilting your chin up to meet him. No matter how much alcohol may run in your systems, kissing Chanyeol will always be the one constant neither of you could ever miscalculate. It simply is an all too familiar doing, one you’ve spent days and weeks and months practicing until it became a subconscious reaction. It is a beginning and an end, your unraveling and your reawakening, an elixir that creeps its way into the very marrow of your bones and blossoms like a spring flower in your lungs.

You intended to string him along until sobriety finally brought him to his senses, but you think this is manageable, something to tease and dangle over his head before deserting him despite the way every fiber of your being craves for him. You can picture it— the confused anger flashing in his eyes when you push him away to continue down the hallway, fire in his veins dwindling to nothing but embers as you discard him for the third time tonight. And so, you press into him with equal force, desperately clawing to have him closer and swallowing his gasp when your tongue slips past the seam of his lips. Despite the heavy taste of liquor on his tongue, Chanyeol finds this rejuvenating, finally, he has you, fist bunching into the fabric of your shirt as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth. He turns into something fierce, addicted to your taste and your touch when your fingers toy with the tips of his ears before raking through his hair and, suddenly, you feel as if you have lost the upper hand.

The hand cupping your jaw drops, trailing dangerously down the side of your thigh before wrapping around your knee to hike your leg around his hip. It is when he presses into you, growing erection doing nothing against the thick fabric of your skirt but still alarmingly there does the steadfastness of your plan falter, the idea of bunching your skirt up to your waist and letting him fuck you right there at the top of the staircase seeming all too tempting.

When he moves to press a sloppy kiss below your jaw, then on the other side of your neck, it buys you enough time to gather your thoughts. Because even though the nip of his teeth and the warmth of his tongue against your skin has wetness pooling between your thighs, it is not nearly as distracting as his mouth on yours. “Chanyeol,” you gasp still, fingers digging into his arms to ground yourself. He merely hums in reply, kissing his way down the column of your throat as he gives your right breast a firm squeeze. Your head thuds against the wall the farther you tilt back, granting him more access and breathing coming in sporadic bursts. It takes quite the strength, but, with the mental image of what’s to come once you actually make it inside encouraging you to do so, you gently push him back at last.

First, worry flashes across his face, suddenly fearing that he has somehow hurt you. But when the side of your mouth ever so slightly tips upward and you step around him to advance further down the hall, there is a mixture of betrayal and frustration flaring in his veins but overpowering desire, too, because he simply loves this game you’ve decided to play.

Racing to unlock your apartment before he can catch up, you excitedly jam the key into the knob just as Chanyeol has reached you, arms circling your waist to spin you around. “You’re driving me crazy,” he groans, guiding you into the apartment and kicking the door closed behind him. As soon as it clicks shut he is back on you, forcing you against the wall because he knows you like it that way, knows you like it rough and knows you like his manhandling. “Yeah?” You ask, though it comes out more like a hiss when he continues his assault on your neck like he never stopped, further bruising the delicate skin there and causing your heart rate to steadily pick up. “How so?”

Ignoring your innocent inquiry, Chanyeol returns to your mouth, tongue battling against your own as he pulls you flush against him, sandwiched between his sturdy chest and the wall. His other hand travels delicately beneath the hem of your shirt, palm burning impossibly warmer against the heat of your skin and it isn’t until he brushes the underwire of your bra does he pull back, satisfied with the way your lips swell. Then, leaning close so his breath fans over your ear, he whispers, “You’ve been rather naughty all night.”

You don’t tremble like he expects you to. You don’t stare back at him with wide, hungry eyes like he expects you to. In fact, you don’t react at all like he expects you to. Instead, you seem to snap out of your lustful daze, eyeing him with a rise of your brow and the straightening of your posture.

“I’ve been naughty?” You scoff, finger jabbing into his chest and, from the total one-eighty in your demeanor alone, Chanyeol stumbles back. “I think you’re mixed up.” Like a puppy desperate for your affection, he cautiously follows you out of the foyer and into the living room.

“I don’t think I was the one who offered to fuck you in front of all your family, or had my hand down your pants during dinner, now, was I?” You sneer at him, struggling to walk to the bedroom while simultaneously zipping down and kicking off your boots. “I—”

Chanyeol begins, taking a hesitant step after you. Beyond the harshness of your words, he knows this is all part of your game, and it’s turning him on more than he’d like to admit, especially when you won’t let him touch you. “No,” you cut him off, standing in the doorway and watching with a stifled smile as he slowly edges closer, “you, sir, need to drink some water before coming any closer. Sober up, think about what you did tonight, and maybe I’ll consider forgetting it happened.” “___,” Chanyeol whines and you almost expect him to stomp his feet like a child, “you’re killing me.”

“Good. Now you know how I’ve felt all night,” flicking the light on, you set your boots down by the closet and keep your eyes trained on him, assuring he stays put, “go on, then. Don’t look so sad, water’s in the kitchen. I need to wash up.” And with that, you retreat into the bathroom, locking the door behind you and trying to erase Chanyeol’s pout from your mind.

In all seriousness— you really do want to wash your face. The thought of having to get up later or even falling asleep with makeup on makes you shudder, and so, you take your grand old time treating your skin, just to make him suffer awhile longer. As you are scrubbing your face over the sink, you hear Toben bark, followed by the soft clinking of his leash. Seconds later, the front door opens and slams closed.

Good, you think, feeling triumphant. Patting your face dry with a towel, you give yourself a once over before swiping a cotton round wet with toner over your skin, simultaneously trying to calm your nerves while also conjuring up what is to come.

God, he really has had you riled up since his first words in his parent’s kitchen, you realize with a cringe as you quickly undress, tossing your clothes into the hamper. Slipping into your simple bathrobe, you turn the overhead lights off in favor of the much softer bedside lamp before flopping belly side down on your bed. Instantaneously, images of Chanyeol flash into your mind, first, simply how godly he looked tonight, tall and lean and yours, then, the look in his eyes when he whispered about fucking you in the kitchen, and later, the teasing drag of his fingers against your panties. All of a sudden, you feel inflamed with desire, clenching around nothing at the thought of such long fingers burying inside of you.

Breathless, you reach for your phone, desperate for a distraction. Seoyun, you remember, clicking on her text from earlier confirming she was home. Sending a few hearts back, you have just opened Instagram and liked a studio picture from Jongdae when the front door opens, Toben’s yapping signaling for a new swarm of butterflies in your gut. Outside of the bedroom walls, you hear Chanyeol’s shoes clunk against the wall as he chucks them off, Toben’s leash unhooking, the living room lights being flicked off. Then, the steady footsteps as he nears your room.

“Can I come in?” He asks from the doorway, the rumble of his voice making a home in your heart.

Chuckling, you turn to look over your shoulder at him. “Yes.”

Stretching to plug your phone in on the table, you realize he’s still playing it careful, managing to only close the door behind him and set a bottle of water on the dresser. “Come here,” you invite at his lack of an advance. He seems startled, an internal battle raging in his heart as he wants nothing more than to jump into bed beside you, but also fears that you will string him along once more. So, he approaches slowly, choosing to sit by the foot of the bed and refusing to look at you, instead leaning over to yank his socks off.

Suppressing a grumble of protest at his distance, you struggle to sit back on your haunches, fingers moving to quickly untie the front of your robe. Chanyeol visibly relaxes as you make your way over, scooting further back to allow more space when you swing one leg across his lap in order to settle on his thighs. His Adam’s apple bops seeing you are totally bare, robe just barely covering your breasts. Avoiding eye contact just yet, you lean forward, pressing a delicate kiss below his ear and humming in appreciation when he tilts his head for you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper after having your own turn of marking his soft skin, palms sliding over his chest to push his jacket from his shoulders, no matter how alluring he looks in it. “To be completely honest, I really just wanted to wash my face.” Furrowing your eyebrows in concentration, you make slow work at the buttons of his shirt next. “And,” you add, lowering the volume of your voice as if telling a secret only he’s allowed to hear, “I wasn’t in the mood for drunk sex. I’ve been wet for you since four o’clock. I wanted to savor tonight, yeah?”

Once you’ve popped the last button open, pushed the soft fabric from his shoulders and littered his exposed skin with soft kisses, you finally lift your gaze to his face, heart nearly stopping beneath the darkening of his stare. Just like that, Chanyeol sees it as his cue to take over, pouncing like a cat on its prey, opening your mouth with his own and bringing you closer with a firm grip on your ass. “I should have just fucked you when I had the chance,” he practically growls, pulling his arms out from his shirt and jacket and pushing the robe from your shoulders, hands cold from being outside and summoning goosebumps to rise along your skin.

One such hand slides up your spine before wrapping around your nape to tilt you back, body curved to give him room to duck down and kiss along your collarbones, sucking harshly at your skin to assure deep purple marks by morning before enveloping a nipple between his teeth. “Ah,” you hiss, nails digging crescents into his arms as you grind down on him, “I wouldn’t have been able to look your parents in the eyes if you did,” then, choking on a moan as he rolls your other hardened bud between his calloused fingers, “plus, I still would have been thinking about your fingers all night.”

Chanyeol groans, releasing your nipple with a soft pop. “My fingers, huh? What about them?” He hums with faux innocence, securing a grip on your thighs before flipping you onto your back in order to hover above you. He doesn’t let you reply, however, latching his lips to yours and quite literally sucking all the air from your lungs with the way his tongue wraps around your own. “Yes,” you huff when he pulls back, fingers threading through pink hair and hips rising to brush against his when he begins his journey downward, “thinking about them stuffed inside me and— and then,” you stutter, back arching as he kisses his way straight down the column of your throat, the valley between your breasts, the swell of your stomach, simply sucking at the same marks he made yesterday, “and then, your dick.”

“See,” Chanyeol mutters with a click of his tongue, hooking his fingers around the waistband of your underwear and shimmying them down your legs, “I know how dirty you are.”

“Yes,” you whimper, spreading your legs for him as he throws one over his shoulder, “you make my life really difficult like that.”

“I know, baby,” he hums, then, watching with a smirk as you jolt with him blowing cool air directly to your clit, “I always make it up to you, though.”

There simply is not enough time to think of a reply before Chanyeol has his mouth directly where you need him, flattening his tongue against your slit and licking upward, drawing a wanton moan deep from your throat. Relief, finally. Any witty reply quickly wiped from your brain, all you can focus on now is the warmth and wetness of his tongue, circling your clit before dipping between your folds.

“Chanyeol,” you rasp, one hand anchored into the comforter and the other clutching his hair to contain the way you quiver, “please.”

He hums, the vibration strumming right against you and winching the knot forming in your abdomen impossibly tighter. “Please what?”

“Fingers,” is all you manage to get out, seeing stars with the way he sucks at your clit. He wastes no time contemplating your helpless gasp, immediately shifting his position in order to grant such a wish. In fact, he wastes no time easing into things, either, pushing two fingers into your seeping cunt without so much as a warning. It tears a shaky moan from you, nerves aflame with the new but oh so welcome intrusion.

“Christ, ___,” Chanyeol hisses, immediately adding a third finger and pausing to watch his digits sink in to the knuckles, “your tight little cunt is practically sucking me in.” A shaking and gasping mess, all you can offer is a breathless yes, walls clenching in need of more friction. Sensing this, Chanyeol gets right back to work, hand rocking against you, fingers dragging in and out, rubbing upward and against that hidden gem of a spot. “Oh, God,” you keen, thighs reflexively squeezing the sides of his head when he swirls his tongue over your clit in all sorts of shapeless patterns before tightly sucking at it once more.

“That’s it, baby,” Chanyeol soothes as he forces your legs apart, eyes glued on the mess he’s made, juices smeared even at your thighs with the way his fingers curl into you before nearly pulling out entirely. “So greedy.”

“Chanyeol,” you whine, hips raising to follow the movements of his tongue when he returns to your clit, “so close.”

“Mhm,” he groans against you, insistently flicking at the bundle of nerves and adding his pinky finger to the stretch. Chanyeol relishes in the way you practically swell beneath him, nails scratching against his scalp at the addition and the way he scissors his fingers. It is with one last upward curl and draw of your clit between his lips does your orgasm hit you, an intense wave of heat that has you arching into him and red speckling your vision— even though your eyes are screwed shut. It takes several moments to come down from the high, core throbbing in the aftermath and nerves seemingly frayed at the force of it all.

And yet, he has not stopped.

“Chanyeol,” you gasp, voice taut as a result of your previous silent scream, “f-fuck. Christ, I can’t.”

Chanyeol only hums in reply, a mere dismissal as he knows you can handle it and is more than happy to continue. Pulling his fingers from your soaking cunt with a lewd squelch, he grasps your thighs and spreads them further, lapping hungrily at the messy aftermath of your orgasm. Ignoring the way your body shakes and the powerless mewls escaping your lips, Chanyeol continues right where he left off, this time, however, with his tongue stroking gently between your folds and his thumb drawing soft circles over the hood of your clit.

Given no time to settle, the inferno blazing within you quickly roars back to life once the near-painful sensitivity fades, leaving you subject to the overpowering pleasure pumping through your veins. “God, Chanyeol,” you whine, loosening your grasp on his hair once you realize the iron grip you were holding for the entirety of your climax, “f-fuck, you’re killing me.”

Smiling against you, Chanyeol begins to feel impatient, the restriction on his erection borderline painful. This being said, he picks up his tempo once more, one hand keeping your hips down while the other spreads open your folds, giving him unhindered accuracy to press his tongue against your clit, draw circles, triangles, figure-eights— before you’re coming undone in no time.

Biting your bottom lip to taper the near scream that threatens to tear from your throat, you have no choice with the way Chanyeol holds you down but to fall face-first into your climax, tumbling over the edge at an alarmingly fast rate. Your second orgasm comes much easier and much quicker, body still recovering from the first, and it leaves you simultaneously jerking away but locking him in. Chanyeol is just that good.

It almost feels as if you are floating through clouds as you come back to reality and part of you wonders if that orgasm lasted a few seconds or an hour. You can’t tell. But coming back down brings an onslaught of sensations; first, the complete and total mess in between your legs, the result of two orgasms sticking to your thighs like syrup. Second, the soothing massage Chanyeol rubs into your thighs and hips, fingers digging deep into your muscle and aiding in your return from Heaven, you think.

And third: Chanyeol still has his pants on.

“How are you?” He asks, lips curled into a smirk because he knows how good it was, but likes the validation. When all you offer is a small noise of protest, Chanyeol understands this to be your wordless way of asking him to come up, and he does so immediately. “I think I just saw God,” you say once he’s settled on his side next to you, cringing at the coarseness of your voice. With a dreamy sigh you smooth over his pectoral, the dip of his collarbone, the protruding tendon on his neck, before cradling his jaw and leaning over to press your lips to his.

Slow to start, you take ample time simply to savor him, the taste of you, and to show your appreciation for not one, but two orgasms. A renewed sense of urgency, however, appears to take over, and you suck in a heavy breath through your nose when Chanyeol pushes himself to hover above you, hand wrapping around your knee to throw your leg over his hip. Palms deserting their spot beneath his ears, you quickly make work to the button of his pants.

“Goddammit,” you hiss after several unsuccessful attempts, growing just as impatient as he and pulling back to focus on such button, then the zipper, “I hate buttons.” Laughing, Chanyeol leans up to tug his pants and boxers down his thighs, cock springing free against the toned panes of his stomach. “I can tell. Patience is a virtue, you know?” He teases, settling more comfortably between your spread legs and kicking the last of his clothes to the floor.

“Don’t you dare try talking to me about virtue when all I can think about is you rearranging my guts,” you grumble, eyes screwing shut and missing the way his eyes darken when he presses the head of his cock against your clit. “Purity is a virtue, too,” Chanyeol continues to tease, finally angling to your entrance and just barely pressing in, “I don’t think God would be too happy with that mouth of yours.”

“Please shut the fuck up and— ohh, shit,” before you can finish your sentence, Chanyeol has finally rolled forward, dragging past your walls and filling you to the brim in one flawless push. Then, once you have adjusted to the forever startling swell of his cock within you, “We can go to confession after you’ve fucked me.”

Chanyeol lets out a noise somewhere in between an amused snort and a groan, mind effectively having already gone off the deep end and focusing on the tightness of your slick cunt and that alone. “God, ___,” he hisses, drawing back to leave only a lonely inch within you before thrusting forward again, drawing a series of moans from your lips, “never get enough of your tight little pussy.”

“Uh-huh,” is all you manage, struggling to soundly wrap your legs around him with all your muscles reduced to jelly with him filling you so deliciously with every thrust. With the fire in your stomach roaring to life and consuming you whole once more, you will yourself not to come so soon, attempting to open your eyes after several futile blinks and focus on him. Perhaps this is not the best thing to do, however, considering the image of him glowing with a sheen of sweat, eyebrows furrowed, face flushed and hooded eyes boring holes into you only prompts you to tighten around him and ‘squeaking noises’ he always likes to tease you about to slip past your lips.

“God,” you whine, leaning up and placing a desperate kiss to his top lip but flopping back down at the uncomfortable angle, “God, I love you.” Chanyeol visibly softens at this, the sharp snapping in and out of you slowing into deeper, more languid strokes. “I love you more,” he sighs, brushing away hair that has stuck to your sticky skin before kissing you properly. There’s something different about this kiss— for you, at least. Perhaps it has to do with all the talk and sentiment of the night, but a feeling beyond your every day, established love seems to wash over you.

It leaves you gasping and licking into his mouth, desperately trying to cling to the feeling, to put a word to it until finally, you realize, it’s always been here and will forever stay. It seems to resonate in your core, not physically but in your soul, something beyond logic and more of an opening of a door to tranquil waters. It leaves you lightheaded, the staccato of his heart pressed against your skin and the connection of your bodies the only things keeping you grounded because this feeling, this overwhelming, beautiful feeling makes it seem as if you are the center of the universe, just as Chanyeol is the center of yours.

“I’m close,” he hisses, two simple words breaking into your satori and hurling you back into the euphoria that fizzes up your spine and fills your bones. “Me too,” you gasp, breathless from the loaded emotion heavy on your mind and your heart and the quickening of his cock, brushing at the deepest part within at every stroke. It has your head falling back, eyes rolling and back arching when you squeeze around him, muscles contracting with such overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins like electric waves.

“I love you,” you repeat when you fall into your third orgasm, eyes squeezing shut despite your best efforts at keeping them open in order to watch as Chanyeol, too, reaches his high and comes into you with a harsh stutter and load groan. It simply is so powerful you practically feel as if you have just been brought back from the dead, body bucking beneath him like a whip as the toe-curling feeling explodes within you like a firework show. Chanyeol seems to share in such experience, usually not the most vocal but he can’t seem to keep to labored breathing, biting into your shoulder as his seed comes in hot spurts inside of you. You say it every time, but this, truthfully, was the best orgasm of your life.

It takes several moments, minutes, even, to come down from your highs, bodies seemingly in overdrive with such a feeling warming you from your head to your toes. But, just as all good things come to an end, you eventually force your eyes open once you’ve gotten over feeling as if you might pop, blinking past the tears that at some point accumulated. Chanyeol has his forehead rested against your shoulder, heavy inhales and exhales slowly calming as his heart, too, returns to its normal beat. It isn’t until you raise a weak hand to stroke his hair does he tilt his head to look at you, eyes shining like stars with the tired smile he gives you.

Brushing mused pink bangs from his eyes, you crane your neck to kiss his forehead, his nose, and finally his lips before letting your head fall back with a sigh. He returns your affection with a gentle kiss to your shoulder, shakily leaning up to pull his now flaccid cock out of your raw cunt. He’s quick to move, however, fingers coming to press against your folds as if to plug any of his cum from leaking out. You twitch, still way too sensitive and you mentally cringe at the thought of going again— to be frank, you’re pooped.

Still, you lie there quietly, body cooling down as Chanyeol continues to stare as if daring your cunt to let any of his seed slip. After a few more silent moments of this, however, you force yourself to lean up, knowing if you stay like that for any longer, you’d be asleep in minutes. Chanyeol lets out a quiet grunt of protest as such movement causes the smallest gush, fingers swiping against your folds to collect your mixed cum before pushing it back in with the gentlest touch. You sigh at the feeling, clutching at his arm and suddenly, a part of you wishes you weren’t on birth control.

“I felt you,” Chanyeol finally says, voice tight as if he hasn’t used it in years. Such an ambiguous statement, but fortunately, you know what he means without needing him to explain it. You only nod at first, searching his face and finding only the utmost truth. With a gentle hand tracing his jaw, you move in closer to press a soft kiss to his lips before curling into his side. “And I felt you.”

Chanyeol thinks he would look ‘strikingly handsome’ with pink hair, wearing his blue contacts and his baby blue tie.

You think he would look just as handsome as a brunette, without the contacts, and a matching grey bow tie.

Chanyeol thinks you’re lame and just petty because you wouldn’t be able to tie his tie when he gets dressed.

However, with blonde hair slicked back, just his prescription contacts, and baby blue tie, he also happens to think you are strikingly beautiful walking up the aisle. So much so, by the time you are there in front of him, he already has tears streaming down his face.

With your hands in his, you think this kind of love lasts forever.

[byuneebuns]

Fenced In (Part 14)

Chanyeol/Baekhyun x Reader College AU

Rated: M for Smut

Tags: NSFW, Smut, Fluff, College AU

Author’s Note: aaaaa I’m sorry that this took so long. August has sucked to be blunt. Also don’t kill me I love all of you ♡ 

Fenced In Mini Masterlist

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t hav-”

Before he could utter another word you were draping your arms around his neck and pulling him on top of you, locking your lips with his in a messy, desperate kiss. He pulled back, breathing heavily, his eyes searching your face with bewilderment.

“Chanyeol, I want you to show me.”

There was a heavy silence as you stared at each other, only the sound of your heavy breathing puncturing it.

You squirmed uncomfortably beneath him, feeling a little foolish for coming on so strongly, your eyes lowering from his intense stare as you felt regret start to creep over you. 

The feeling of a large, warm hand on your cheek drew your eyes back to Chanyeol, who was looking at you with fire dancing in his dark irises.

“Are you sure?” His deep voice rumbled. You’d barely finished nodding in confirmation before his soft lips were pressing hard into yours. It was sloppy, all teeth and desperation, and you felt dizzy with lack of oxygen and could feel your panties dampening at an alarming speed. You’d fantasized about this for so long that now it hardly felt real.

You gasped for air when he finally pulled back, both of you panting. He stood, picking you up again and tossing you over his shoulder. He brought one of his hands to your ass, massaging it gently, his fingers dangerously close to where you wanted them. You whimpered, biting down on your bottom lip, silently begging for more as you passed your bedroom door and heard the one next to it creaking open. 

He tossed you on his bed gently, being careful not to injure you, and wasted no time in stripping off his shirt and jeans to reveal his beautifully toned chest. You were mesmerized, your eyes tracing every curve of his body, thankful that you could finally do so without having to pretend that you weren’t, paying extra attention to the growing bulge between his hips.

He smirked, running one long hand over his boxer briefs and squeezing himself through them.

“See something you like?”

You answered with a shy smirk of your own.

“I do.” 

Your voice came out huskier than normal. You sat up, spreading your legs wide on the bed so he could just barely see your panties peeking out from underneath your skirt, and slowly pulled your tight red sweater over your head, revealing the lace white bra underneath. Your smirk grew when you saw the rapt attention he was paying you, his hand still gripping his clothed member.

You slowly slipped your bra straps over your shoulders, letting them inch down your arms as you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, your nipples growing hard both from the anticipation and the cold air as your bra fell to the bed.

You ran your hands over your bare breasts, squeezing them lightly and rubbing your nipples softly with your thumbs, your eyes locked with Chanyeol’s.

“Don’t you see something that you like?” You asked in an faux-innocent voice, tilting your head to one side playfully, your walls clenching on air when Chanyeol trapped his lower lip between his teeth, his gaze practically scalding you.

“Fuck, baby, I do. Can I come play too?” He asked eagerly, his voice already several octaves lower as his heated gaze inched down your frame.

You tapped your pointer finger against your chin thoughtfully, your other hand still massaging your firm breast.

“Hmm. You don’t really seem that excited about it.” You replied, pouting. 

Chanyeol squeezed his hardening dick through his boxer briefs again and groaned, the force of it reverberating through his chest and almost sounding like a purr.

“I don’t seem excited? Look at how hard I am for you and all I’ve done is kiss you and watch you take off your shirt. No one could possibly want you more than I want you now, more than I’ve wanted you for months. Please, don’t torture me more than you already have every time you walked around in those tiny fucking shorts.” He moaned, palming his cock through the thin black fabric, his eyes searing into you as if daring you to suggest that he wasn’t excited a second time.

“Is that so?”

You weren’t normally one to tease (much) but there was something that swelled up in you that made you want to draw this out as much as possible. Maybe it was the months of pining finally coming to fruition and you felt you both deserved one last bout of suffering together before giving in.

You lifted your skirt and shimmied your panties off, tossing them in Chanyeol’s direction, grateful they’d landed so he would see the large wet spot that had been accumulating on them because of him. For him.

You ran your hands up your thighs at an agonizing pace, bringing them under your skirt. You toyed with your entrance before tentatively slipping a finger inside, wishing for the trillionth time that it was Chanyeol’s long digit instead of your short one, your pussy quivering with the very real potential of that dream coming true today. 

You pulled your index finger back out, a string of your arousal connecting your finger to your center, forcing a strangled gasp from Chanyeol, his former obedience forgotten as he marched towards you swiftly and firmly grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand to his mouth and sucking the finger that you’d put inside of you, making your breath catch and your eyes widen. 

He finally released your trembling hand from his lips and pushed you onto your back without a single word, instead dropping to his knees next to the bed and pulling you by your ankles towards the edge of the bed and to where he was waiting.

You gasped and shuddered when his tongue met your clit without warning, his lips latching onto it instantly and sucking greedily. He hummed with satisfaction when you tangled your fingers into his fluffy hair, trying to pull him closer, whimpering and gasping with every expert flick of his tongue. He was eating you out like a man possessed, his entire face buried into you, his nose rubbing your clit while he buried his tongue inside of you.

It was soon joined by two of his impossibly long fingers, your wish come true at last and they were just as perfect inside of you as you’d always imagined, instantly curling and finding your g-spot with precision. You were long gone already, head thrown back, back arched, hips rocking into his face shamelessly as you chanted his name like a prayer. 

“Chanyeol, please-”

His fingers pumped in and out faster as his tongue traced patterns on your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

You felt yourself coming undone much sooner than usual, your walls clenching tightly around his hand as if trying to keep it from leaving, your legs starting to feel a little numb with the intensity of your orgasm. You came on his face, moaning his name with reckless abandon, shivering from overstimulation when he didn’t stop lapping at you, making sure he didn’t miss a single drop of your juices.

“Baby, you taste so fucking good. Can you cum for me again?” He moaned against you, his fingers still curled inside, dragging along your walls, the vibration of his voice reverberating through your entire frame. He was licking you languidly now, his digits slowing to match his tongue, sensing that you were still recovering from your first orgasm. His eyes were trained on yours, his pupils the size of dinner plates.

The sight of him between your legs was so fucking sexy and hearing him ask you to cum for him while his tongue stroked your center was almost enough for you to oblige on the spot.

“Y-yes.” You panted, the initial sensitivity starting to fade into a more intense pleasure. His lips left your clit, replaced by his thumb rubbing slow and gentle circles, and latched onto your thighs instead, leaving small love bites. You felt pressure building again, and bucked your hips against his hand, whining and moaning frantically for more.

His other hand joined the ministrations on your clit, pinching and rolling it and spreading your folds while his other fingers were still stroking your g-spot repeatedly, while his tongue resumed making a map of your sex. 

Before long the different sensations were too much again and you wrapped your shaking thighs tighter around his neck as you came again, harder than before, beads of sweat gathering at your hairline while you panted, your fists either full of his hair or his bedsheets, whichever was closer.

Chanyeol was peppering your thighs and hips with soft, loving kisses and squeezing them lightly as you came down from your high again. He moved gracefully for someone so large and before you realized it he had climbed into bed at your side, his still-wet lips worshipping your throat, his warm hand combing your hair soothingly.

As your breathing evened out his lips found yours again and you tasted yourself on him. His tongue lightly teased at your bottom lip and his lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk when you whimpered softly in his mouth. His mouth against yours was poetry in motion and you swore that you were weightless in his arms as they cradled you to him. 

His hands weren’t content with just holding you, though. They were soon exploring your chest and back, pulling more gasps from you as they cupped your ass and squeezed in time with him pulling your lower lip in his teeth.

“You’re so perfect, so beautiful. Every sound you make is music to me. How was I ever supposed to live peacefully next to you? I’ve needed you for so long.” He whispered in your ear, his voice almost too deep to hear and dripping with sin as he rolled his hips into yours, his hardened cock pressing into your center as your wrapped your legs around his torso to keep him close.

“And, fuck, your legs feel like they belong around me.” He growled, clutching your thighs possessively and dragging you against him as he rolled his hips again. Your head was spinning as your nails etched your desire into Chanyeol’s strong back.

“Can I make you mine? Please?” 

“I’ve always been yours, Yeollie.” 

His face cracked wide open, first with surprise that soon faded, leaving behind the most genuine, most blinding smile you’d ever witnessed. 

His eyes became tiny, sparkling crescent moons, almost completely swallowed by the apples of his cheeks. His face was only inches from yours and you couldn’t help but reach out and touch it, almost as if confirming it was real, and your heart fluttered in your chest when his hand covered yours, holding it there, leaning his head into your touch. Your heart felt like a balloon inflated beyond capacity, like it would burst at any second, and you could feel your joy escaping through your mouth in the form of a heartfelt smile to match his.

You stayed together like that, all sexual tension melted away and replaced with the purest adoration, simply admiring one another until your lips gravitated towards one another yet again, two strong magnets incapable of remaining apart for long, meeting softly and sweetly but with all the force of your feelings for one another.

His fingers were threaded through yours where they still rested on his cheek, and when you broke the kiss and leaned away from one another at last you were met once again with his face radiating happiness. How had you ignored him for so long? How had you managed to be so wary of someone so precious? The more you thought about it the more foolish you felt, but you had plenty of time to berate yourself later. You refused to waste another second failing to give him your full attention.

The mood shifted back into one of sensuality as you scooted closer to him again, the feeling of your bodies pressed tightly together reigniting the need you had for each other. His hands wound themselves at your scalp again, holding your face to his as he kissed you with all the urgency from earlier and then some. 

His knee forced its way between your legs, his firm thigh pressing against your still sensitive bud, making you moan through his tongue dancing with yours. Your hand snaked down his body to grip his dick, shuddering when you felt it twitch in your palm and heard him groan with need.

“Please, baby, touch me. I need you.” He begged, his voice reduced to a whine. You toyed with the waistband of his boxer briefs, taking extra care to brush against his dick, relishing the way he gasped and bucked into your hand.

His clothing was soon discarded, joining yours on the carpet of his bedroom as you stripped the barriers from one another’s skin. He leaned against the wall that separated your rooms, toned chest heaving with each labored breath he took, watching you with an emotion too intense for you to name, and pulled you into his warm lap. You were joined at the lips and before long you were joined at the hips as well as he finally pushed into you.

The feeling of him stretching you was incredible. The way he fit perfectly inside of you was like he was made for you, and when he started moving it was like your body was a live wire. Every touch, every caress, every kiss, every breath of his on you felt like nothing you’d ever felt before.

Your hands were on his shoulders, clutching at the strong muscles, holding on for dear life while he lifted you by your hips, working his own beneath you and pulling sounds from you that you hadn’t known you could make. 

You leaned forward, pressing your bare breasts into him, aching to be as close as possible, pressing kisses to his ears, his neck, his jaw, and every other inch of bare flesh you could reach. He repositioned himself the slightest bit, finding your g-spot with his cock, and you felt your walls clench around his thickness as you neared yet another orgasm. Chanyeol moaned loudly in your ear at the sudden tightness and buried his face into your neck, sucking a mark on your shoulder to stifle the deep rumbling bubbling from his chest as his movements got sloppier.

Every thrust had you inching closer to release, your bones felt like jelly, like you were only maintaining a solid form because of the firm grip with which he held you. When you came around him, your core pulsing wildly, wetness seeping onto his lap, you felt stars burst behind your eyelids. You went limp against his hard chest, panting and quivering while he feverishly chased his peak beneath you. It didn’t take much longer for him to finish as well, his softening dick still twitching inside of you while you each tried to catch your breath.

Rather than pick you up and lift you off of him, Chanyeol wrapped his arms tighter around you, holding you securely against the length of his body, lazily tracing patterns on your back with his fingertips. You nuzzled your face into his neck affectionately, nipping his ear lobe and earning a chuckle and a nuzzle in return from your captive.

“You’re so, so beautiful. I don’t want this to ever end.” He whispered in your ear, his voice barely audible over the pounding of both of your hearts.

You clung to him tighter in lieu of trying to string together a response. Your body and brain were too sluggish for eloquence and you were so overwhelmed with feelings you weren’t sure now was the best time to try and vocalize them regardless of if you were physically capable or not.

You stayed tangled in one another until reality obligated you to separate from one another, only for long enough to clean yourselves and change Chanyeol’s now-ruined sheets, so you could meet in each other’s arms again, overcome with exhaustion. Chanyeol’s slow, steady breathing in your ear told you that he’d fallen asleep with his arms and legs wound in yours, and you were quick to follow. 

The best part was that when you woke up the next day, he was still there, exactly as you had left him when you dozed off. 

You tried to wiggle out of his grip, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your bedhead and morning breath, but there was no escaping him. It was as if he’d grown four more arms and legs overnight and you had no chance against this giant octopus of a man.

“Where do you think you’re running off to?” His rumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion. He reeled you in closer, pressing you into his chest as he rained kisses down on your head. You beamed, unable to contain your glee. Who knew waking up with someone could be so euphoric? And to think that he’d only been one room away this entire time.

“I’m just going to the bathroom, Yeollie!” You said between giggles, his barrage of kisses starting to tickle as they found the nape of your neck.

“Mmm...I’ll allow it, but you better come right back. I’/m not done squeezing the life out of you yet.” He murmured, still fighting to maintain consciousness, releasing his prisoner from the jail cell that was his long limbs.

You cast an affectionate look at Chanyeol before you left the room. He was curled on his side, looking too large for his own bed, his hands clutching at the sheets where your body had been moments ago. A contented smile played on your lips as you forced your feet to resume their trek to the bathroom, finally ripping your eyes away from your sleeping roommate.

You had a sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t be sleeping alone very often anymore.

***

True to your assumption, the following nights had been spent with Chanyeol curled around you. So had the days. It was like you were both trying to make up for months of lost time, you could hardly stand to keep from touching each other for even a second. If your hands weren’t otherwise occupied they were surely wrapped in his. You fell asleep clinging to one another and woke up clinging to one another.

Winter break had been filled with dates to the outdoor ice skating rink, failed attempts at him cooking you dinner, curling up on the sofa together with mugs full of hot chocolate and a stack of dvds, and keeping each other warm at night with various acrobatic feats. You’d decided against celebrating the holidays in the traditional sense, agreeing that gifts would be too last-minute and were less important than spending time with each other but Chanyeol had still managed to break the rules and buy you a large bouquet of roses that he insisted were from someone else (the receipt was clearly visible on the top of the trash can). 

You couldn’t walk past where they sat on the dining room table without breaking into a jaw-aching smile.

Winter break had been flawless beyond description, ethereal, surreal, and much too short.

It was with a heavy heart that you both returned to school. Even though you knew you were sure to see each other at home you’d grown spoiled by his near-constant presence. You warned yourself not to get too greedy, or better yet too attached, but your heart was beyond reason. There wasn’t an official “title” for whatever you were and you were afraid to ask, worried that demanding a label or an answer would pop this little bubble of perfection that your life was currently encased in.

You’d spent most of your English lecture with your chin propped in your hand, your mind running through the events of the last ten days. They’d felt both like a lifetime and the blink of an eye. Your professor was explaining a project he was assigning to your class, something about working with an appointed classmate to write a presentation about a piece of literature, something you weren’t paying nearly enough attention to, your mind occupied solely by thoughts of Chanyeol.

He was calling out names in pairs and the sound of your’s dragged you from your daydreams and back to reality. The name that followed it wiped your mind blank once again.

“Byun Baekhyun.”

[hanbin-or-hanbout]

Kpop Tag Game

Rules: put your music library on shuffle then list the first ten songs that show up. Then tag twenty people you want to participate💖💖💖

I got tagged by @sehunniebunchesofyehet like, that’s my actual babe and I love her so much.

Mystery - Hyoyeon

Cypher Pt. 4 - BTS

Rhythm Ta - Ikon

No Mercy - B.A.P

I got a boy - SNSD

Ma City - BTS

Super Fly - 24k

Coup D'etat - Gdragon

Miracles in December - Exo

What if… - Exo

@sehunoh @jengkook @perfectjimin @jayhoesok @astrodaily @bangtan @captainbts @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @exobtsvines @fykimtaehyung @got7everything @hot-damn-hanbin @igot-scenarios @jungkxook @kpop-bts-smut @lavender-tae @min-shookga-yoongi @naughtykpopimagines @ohmybangtanboys @pcysmut

[solified-chanyeol-lover]

Tag Game: Alphabet Soup Edition

Tagged by lovely @loser-dot-com 😉💙

Answer the questions in a new post and tag 10 blogs your would like to get to know better.

A: Age - To fking old. 20

B: Birthplace - In crappy flat desert-y California with too many rocks for mountains. I know this now because I was just there like a couple days ago. Sadly.

C: Current Time? - 10:52

D: Drink you last had - Fruit Punch

E: Easiest person to talk to - My step-dad and my close friend Bre.

F: Favorite Song - Sweet Lies (EXO) G: Grossest Memory - Ahhh I don’t think Ihave one?????? No I think I just can’t think of any.

H: Hogwarts House - Can’t remember. Should’ve asked me a year ago. XD

I: In Love? - Yes. He just doesn’t know yet. So don't go telling him!!!

J: Jealous of people? - Jealous? Hmmm…now that’s too much of a strong word. Why be jealous when you can be better in your own way?

K: Killed someone? - I sure hope not. Book character maybe but in real life….no I’m too gentle of a person to kill.

L: Love at first sight or should I walk by again? - No I have to know them first, cute maybe but definitely not love. I’m a softy for men who smile a lot.

M: Middle Name? - Renee

N: Number of siblings? - 10! NOT EVEN KIDDING!!

O: One wish? - For everything to work out with me and my family.

P: Person you called last? - Grandma.

Q: Question you are always asked? - How are you so strong?

R: Reason to smile? - My future.

S: Song you last sang? - Always be ^o^ (Kagamine Rin)

T: Time you woke up? - 9am

U: Underwear color? - I’m not ashamed, so pink.

V: Vacation Destination? - South Korea

W: Worst habit? - Biting my nails

Y: Your favorite food? - Pizza.

X: X-rays? - Too many. Pelvic, knee, ankles, wrists, collarbone (this one more than the others.)

Z: Zodiac sign? - Aries and proud of it.

Tagging @seolovely-j, @baekiexing, @qmeenaaa, @kokobop-yeol, @sehunoh, @prince-chanyeol, @pcysmut, hmm I thought I’d have more??????

[namjoonchronicles]

20 Questions /I was tagged yall, I’mma grace y’all with my presence/ not really

Rules: Answer 20 questions and tag 20 followers you`d like to get to know better

Tagged by The Amazing @dixnx-prxncx <3 <3

Name: Anissa Z. Nicknames: Nissa Gorgeous (no, seriously...I ain’t even lying) Zodiac sign: The emotional Crab-cancer (roll in the deep emo) Height: Geez, I’m so embarrassed One. Point. Forty-nine. Metres. Orientation: Heterosexual...like hella. Nationality: the colorblind, Malaysian Favourite fruit: Mangosteen! Sometimes watermelon. Depends. Favourite season: Not durian. Favourite book: I still cannot get over 'Defending Jacob'. The best. Favourite flower: Don't give me something that dies. And expect me to take care of it I can't even take care of myself fml. Favourite scent: Men's Cologne. Favourite colour: Red. Favourite animal: Recently, Chow-Chow. Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: Coffee because I don't need sleep. Cat or dog: Both. Favourite fictional character: Credence Barebone & Newt Scamander Number of blankets you sleep with: One but I have two. No three, actually. Dream trip: Photographable country with all my biases. I can handle this. Blog created: 2013, the year I regretted having Asianfanfics.com account. Number of followers: 1784 LOVELY PEOPLE WHO ARE CLEARLY ANGELS

Taggin! @speshuul-k @nctinfo @standay6 @blink-drink @lovethyfandoms2 @yanderechild @got7imaginations @pcysmut @differentpersoninside @jamietrbl @nctrymebitch @breathingfarts @mykookiesarenotsugafree @sassyunicorns2 @fakeparkchanyeol @gaby1608 @tasmus @fymonsta-x @pjkook @nctjaehyun

[chogikoo]

_ I was tagged by @kunpifook for the lockscreen/homescreen tag~ (thank you so much ^^)

_ I’ll tag: @suhos-lotto @pcysmut @bitten-by-the-kai-lovebug @doyoung @kickassweird @mybiasedreactions @chenshiregalactic @mysavageaesthetic

art credit: (x)

[byuneebuns]

Fenced In

Chanyeol x Female Reader College Roommate AU

Rated: M for Smut

Tags: College AU, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Eventual Angst, Eventual Fluff Author’s Note: My first real Idol x Reader fic, be kind please. Mature smut in subsequent chapters. Tags and description will be updated as story progresses to prevent spoilers. Fenced In Mini Masterlist

“Good morning,” Chanyeol mumbled groggily from in between bites of cereal. He stifled a yawn and lifted one lanky arm half-heartedly in greeting. His soft hair was tousled from sleep and he was dressed plainly in a white t-shirt and gray joggers (which he most likely slept in). “Good morning!” You replied cheerfully. “Would you like some coffee?” “No, thanks though. I’m running late for my Economics class and I can’t be afforded the luxury of getting to be fully awake for it.” He sighed melodramatically, yawning again as he stood up and stretched. “You can leave the bowl there Yeollie, I’ll grab it on my way out. My first class isn’t for another two hours.” Chanyeol only smiled and nodded gratefully in response as he pulled on a windbreaker and sneakers and hurried off to class.

It had only been three months since you had put in an ad for a roommate in your off-campus apartment, and an even shorter two months since Chanyeol had claimed the position. Your previous roommate had taken a year to study abroad and left you in the awkward position of being unable to afford to live alone but without a replacement for her. You had initially been put-off by the prospect of a male roommate, especially a stranger, due to obvious safety concerns but there had been an overwhelming lack of female applicants which forced your hand. The apartment was a few miles away from campus, so it meant either owning a car or being a big fan of cardio which was a turn-off for most college students. The few female applicants you had met were more interested in the social aspect of school than studying, and being you were only here on a scholarship that hinged on your academic success it sufficed to say that a party-going roommate was the last thing you wanted invading your space. After several weeks of failure and mounting feelings of panic you altered the listing to include males out of sheer desperation and here entered a certain Park Chanyeol. 

He was the first male you had agreed to meet and interview (after looking him up in the school directory and seeing he was on the Dean’s List and here from abroad on a scholarship you were a little more at ease) and after that initial contact you were confident you wouldn’t need to meet anyone else. He was quiet, polite, humble, focused on his studies, and equally stressed the importance of needing a peaceful place to do work and unwind when class is over. You had low expectations when you met him, mostly due to your own apprehension of living with a male, but he had pleasantly surprised you not only with how well his personality seemed to mesh with yours, but also with how incredibly good-looking he was. He was tall and lean with dark hair, cappuccino colored skin, and soft brown eyes. His ears stuck out just enough to really be noticed and his face was good-natured and earnest. 

Something about being around him made you feel incredibly…soft. Like a large, sentient marshmallow. You swallowed your feelings and mentally chastised yourself; this wasn’t your first rodeo and you weren’t about to let yourself get all misty-eyed over one cute boy. 

You smiled to yourself at the recollection as you rinsed Chanyeol’s cereal bowl and loaded a sponge with dish soap. Thankfully you had both quickly moved past the awkward phase of sharing personal space with a stranger and were now settled into something vaguely resembling a comfortable domestic home life with one another. 

You didn’t spend much time together, he had morning classes and worked evenings at a diner while you took afternoon classes and worked early mornings in a café, but you occasionally sat next to each other in the living room and worked in comfortable silence or watched a movie together. 

You often found yourself wishing you could get a little closer to him but even living together it seemed like it was impossible to find time to really be alone together and free of other responsibilities. You shook your head roughly, willing that thought to leave your mind and never return- the very last thing you needed right now was to start pining. It was truly impossible not to be charmed by him though, despite your best efforts. 

You sighed and shook your head again, placing his now-clean bowl on the drying rack. 

That wasn’t the only time you’d found yourself…noticing him, being painfully aware of his presence as an attractive man in your home. There had been the shower incident, for one. You shuddered at the memory alone. 

It wasn’t long after he moved in, you had gotten out of class early one day and were exhausted from work and class. All you wanted to do was take a nice, hot bath to relax before you started on your mountain of homework. You wrenched open the door of your apartment, dropped your belongings in a heap on your bedroom floor and started to strip as you made your way down the hall to the bathroom. An intelligent lifeform would have noticed the light peeking through the crack in the door. Sadly, that wasn’t you- not today, at least. You were in only underwear now, fumbling with your bra fastener with one hand and opening the bathroom door with the other, your thoughts lingering on the lecture from your last class. There he stood, in all his half-naked glory, Park Chanyeol still dripping wet with a towel barely covering his lower half. 

Your eyes nearly popped clean out of your skull, your brain went completely haywire trying to process what was even happening and how could you possibly have coherent thoughts when droplets of water were busy making their way south through the hills and valleys of Chanyeol’s well-sculpted abs? You were sure that if he hadn’t said anything then you would have started drooling, or worse, dropped to your knees to worship the God that had appeared before you. “I can see you’re in a hurry, so don’t mind me.” He said, the smirk that had spread across his handsome face dripping from every word, his eyes raking your body. Your brain kicked into high gear, trying to make up for lost time, and suddenly remembered that you were standing in the hallway wearing only a bra and panties while shamelessly ogling your roommate. You felt heat flood your face and your core simultaneously as you stumbled backwards, clutching your chest in an attempt to hide yourself far too late, your mouth opening and closing in rapid succession like a goldfish while you tried to regain enough composure to form words. “S-sorry, I didn’t k-know you were-“ You sputtered as he stepped around you, seeming taller by the second, his eyes not leaving your body, and freed the entryway to the bathroom. “It’s alright,” He chuckled, running a free hand through his wet hair while his other held the towel rather loosely around his hips, “Enjoy your shower.”

It was the coldest shower you ever had. 

There had also been several smaller, more isolated incidents- joggers shifting a little too low on his hips, loose t-shirts exposing his torso or collarbones- that had you sweating. You were sure he noticed you staring, anyone would, and the thought made you a little nauseous. He was a saint to put up with you perving over him all of the time, although you could swear that every now and then you would catch him watching you watch him with an expression you could only chalk down as lust. You shook your head violently for the third time today. At this rate you were just torturing yourself. You shrugged your backpack onto your shoulders and made your way to class and firmly told yourself that you would not think anymore creepy thoughts about your roommate today.

[byuneebuns]

Fenced In (Part 2)

Chanyeol x Female Reader College Roommate AU

Rated: M for Smut

Tags: NSFW, Smut, Mild Angst, College AU, Porn with Plot, Slow Burn

Author’s Note: Pray for my soul for I have sinned. A little short but what can you do. Fenced In Mini Masterlist

Chanyeol could hear the low, steady beat of your study playlist thumping through your bedroom walls. You probably didn’t even notice that he was home, he was normally already at work by the time you got home from class but today was a rare day off during the week for him and he was intent on enjoying it by doing absolutely nothing. Your bedrooms shared one thin wall so he could hear most of whatever happened on the other side of it. To either his disappointment or his relief you were naturally on the quiet side, so he never heard anything interesting. He rolled over onto his side, ready to let the steady beat carry him to sleep, when he heard a faint whimpering through the wall.

He sat jolt upright and ran to the shared wall, pressing one ear to it and scrunching up his face in an effort to somehow enhance his hearing. There it was again, a light gasping, more persistent this time. His face flushed and he felt his shorts start to tent while his mind raced with possibilities.

What if she’s crying…or hurt? He frowned a little at the possibility and pressed his ear further to the wall. “O-oh fuck” His cock twitched eagerly and Chanyeol swallowed roughly. There was no mistaking this anymore. The moans were getting louder and more insistent. Before he could talk himself out of it his hand had snaked down his torso and gripped his fully-erect member through his basketball shorts. He bit his plush lower lip as he starting palming himself through the fabric, trying to imagine what you looked like on the other side of that wall.

Your legs were spread and bent at the knee as you propped yourself against your headboard. Your head was thrown back and your eyes were shut, your pretty mouth making lewd noises and gasping for air as you plunged your fingers into your tight, wet pussy. Thinking of him. Wishing it was him.

He groaned at the scene he painted for himself and yanked his shorts down to his ankles, gripping his dick earnestly. He had never been so thankful that your bed was against that wall. The tip of his dick was already dripping wet with precum, he took his large thumb and spread it across the tip, collecting it, as he started pumping himself. 

His ear could have practically left an indentation in the dry wall with the amount of force he was putting into trying to hear you. He mentally begged you to say his name, anything to convince him to make himself known, to be the one pulling those sounds from your throat. 

This wasn’t the first time he’d touched himself while he thought of you. After you walked in on him getting out of the shower it had been non-stop fuel for weeks. He had a hard time even being in the same room as you without getting every drop of blood in his body rushing straight to his dick. Seeing you standing there, pupils blown out with lust, in nothing but a flimsy lace bra and panty set, your generous cleavage and curves all on display. All for him. 

The way you subconsciously bit your lip as your eyes roved his body with desire etched into every feature. He still wondered what might have happened if he had just dropped his towel and bent you over right in the hallway instead of going to work. If he had just grabbed you by the back of your hair and dragged your lips to meet his, shoved you against the bathroom wall, shoved his thick thigh between your legs and against your aching clit. 

He could have plunged his hand into your panties and felt how wet you were for him, run his long fingers through your soaking folds and reached into you with them, watched you come apart without him even having to fuck you properly, just like you were doing to yourself now. He could have done it better. 

He could have turned you around and pressed your face into the door and taken you right there like that, whispered all of the filthy things he was thinking into your ear, could have heard these muffled moans echo through the bathroom instead of through a fucking wall.

How many times could he have felt you cum on his cock since then if he had just made a move? He groaned through his teeth in frustration. Alas, memories of you checking him out and his baseless fantasies weren’t enough to warrant bursting into your room right now as much as he wished otherwise; some shred of his common sense still remained.

Your moans were now mixed with distorted moans of half-formed words, he could tell you were getting close. Were you using toys? Would you squirt? He squeezed his tip hard with his palm, he almost came at the thought of you cumming all over your own hands. While thinking of me his ego whispered tantalizingly. He bit back a moan and picked up the pace, his hips snapping up to meet his hand as he fucked himself, wishing it was you. 

“Ah…ah, Chanyeol, please-! Fuck-!” 

He gasped out loud at that, ropes of cum painting his hand and the floor. Did you really…say his name? He panted as he cleaned up the small mess with a dirty shirt from his hamper, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his free hand. No…he must have imagined it. He had to have.

***

You fell back into your headboard, forehead shining with exertion, your pussy still clenching around air as you came down from your high. Your cheeks were flushed and your breathing was heavy, you could feel sleep settling over your tired limbs so forced yourself to sit upright, wincing as your sensitive bud made contact with your sheets. 

You pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, not bothering to dress properly, and made your way to the kitchen for a glass of water. Your bare feet padded lightly on the plush carpet and stopped abruptly- not because they had reached the cold linoleum of the kitchen, but because there, neatly placed next to the doormat, lay the sneakers you had watched Chanyeol don that very morning. 

Your eyes shot to the hall closet where, to your horror, his windbreaker was hanging. His closed bedroom door confirmed it: he was home. Panic gripped you like a vice as you stood, transfixed, in the entrance to the kitchen with your fist shoved into your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. 

Did he hear you? Oh god, what if he heard you? 

Your eyes started welling with tears of embarrassment. Thoughts of water and a snack now abandoned, you darted back to your room and threw yourself on the bed face first. In your haste to escape you had, however, neglected to shut your bedroom door.

“Hey…is everything okay?” A deep voice called from the doorway. You picked your head up cautiously and peeked at him over your shoulder, hoping for some kind of indication that he had or hadn’t heard you moaning his name from your room. You gulped as your eyes met, but what stared back at you was only polite interest. The large knot that had formed in your chest immediately began to unwind and for the first time in what felt like centuries your lungs were working.

“Ah, yeah. I’m fine! Just had a rough day. I should have studied for that unit test a little more this week.” You sat up all the way and smiled, your relief spilling onto your face.

Chanyeol returned your smile and leaned against your door frame. “I’m sorry about your test. Maybe this isn’t the best time to suggest it, but do you want to go see a movie? There’s one I’ve wanted to see, and I thought maybe….” He trailed off, scratching the back of his head. Your heart fluttered and you felt almost dizzy with happiness.

He was asking you out! He was really asking you-

Just as friends.

Reality crept over you like icy water, numbing you to the core. You felt nauseous all over again. You tried to forcibly arrange your facial expression into something neutral as you carefully curated your response.

“Thanks Yeollie, but I’ll have to sit this one out. I really need to get some work done. Maybe next time?” Your heart broke a million times at how visibly crestfallen he was.

“Yeah, of course. Well, see you later then.”

As soon as you heard the front door close behind him you slammed your face into your mattress over and over again.

What was wrong with you? You didn’t have the right to be excited about seeing a movie with him, especially not after fantasizing about him. He just wanted to be friends but you were going to ruin it by being a horny pervert. You felt tears pricking at your eyes again and you bit down on your bottom lip hard, willing them not to fall.

“I need to get it together. Get laid if I have to. I can’t risk ruining my friendship, and more importantly my living situation, for some weird fantasy.” You slapped your cheeks, hoping it would help snap you out of it. The sting did nothing but add physical ache to your emotional pain.

“Why am I like this…?” You threw yourself face first into the bed again, wishing silently that it would swallow you whole.