Pick-Up Lines || ATEEZ BF Texts

Pick-Up Lines || ATEEZ BF Texts

pairing ▸ ateez × reader

summary ▸ ur bf tries to subtly send u a pick up line but doesn't expect ur response

genre ▸ socmed au, established relationship

warnings ▸ (just very suggestive)

a/n: idk what this is... but i hope u enjoy it either way ‹𝟹

i'm trying to work (k.hj)

pairing: producer bf!hongjoong x non-idol s/o!reader

preview: it's late and hongjoong is still working on his new song. he said you could go home hours ago. you decide that maybe he just needs some... incentive to go home.

tags/warnings: genderless reader, big dick hongjoong, oral (m.receiving), under the desk head for the win, throat fucking, a lot of spit and some crying, cum eating

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 715

song recs for this fic: she don't like the lights by justin bieber, look don't touch by odetari, seven by jungkook

a/n: it's been so long since i posted T-T i'm so sorry guys. i hope you enjoy this really quick fic while i try and get back on my writing feet <3

you pick up your phone and check the time. 02:00 am. hongjoong said he would take you home 4 hours ago. you knew better than to believe his timelines when he gets invested in a new song. you glance over at him hunched over his computer and soundboard. 

“joong,” you say quietly. he hums at you as a response. “can we go home?” you can see him shake his head. you sigh, dropping your arms down on the couch. “you said we could go home hours ago, how are you not done yet?” he can hear the upset in your voice. he just shrugs. “i’m not done yet.”

another hour passes before you’re sick of just sitting behind hongjoong and being ignored. suddenly, you get a brilliant idea. 

you inch your way over to the side of his desk. he’s so enveloped in his work that he doesn’t even notice that you’ve moved from your seat. you drop down to crawling under his desk, doing your best to not bump his legs. you don’t want to give yourself away just yet.

you settle into a comfortable position under his desk. well, as comfortable as you can get. you wait a few minutes to see if hongjoong has picked up on anything yet. he hasn’t.

you move your hands towards his pants, trying to be as discreet as possible. you tug on the waistband of his sweatpants. you manage to tug them down enough to get his cock to spring out. he knows you’re there for sure now.

he pushes his chair out a bit to see you. “what are you-” you cut his sentence off by taking his length into your mouth. he lets out a small, shaky moan when you do so. he rests his head on his hand, looking down at you sitting with his cock in your mouth. he watches as you struggle to get the whole thing down your throat.

“you’re really this desperate for my attention, are you?” he asks, cocking one of his eyebrows. you nod slightly, your mouth still full. “okay, then be good and get me off,” he says before pushing his chair back in, causing his cock to jab the back of your throat. you barely manage to fight off a gag. 

once he settles into his chair again, you start bobbing your head slowly. your tongue darts out to trace the veins that line his length. he makes the occasional guttural sound. you try your best to deep throat the whole thing but you can barely breathe doing that. 

you can tell he’s getting close when his legs start trembling. he finally stops paying attention to his work and leans back in his chair to look at you. hongjoong rests his hand on the back of your head, guiding your mouth up and down.

“baby…” he says. “let me fuck your throat.” you nod. you stop your motions, sinking your mouth down as far as you can without gagging. he tangles his fingers in your hair to keep your head still. you put your hands on his thighs to ground yourself. 

he starts thrusting up into your mouth at a fast pace. he’s chasing his high like an animal. tears sting your eyes and saliva drips from your parted lips. your gag reflex is going crazy. your lungs are crying for air.

hongjoong’s face twists in pleasure as his high creeps up on him. his thrusts get more erratic, his balls slapping your face. his head is thrown back, sweet moans leaving his throat.

finally, his high crashes over him. he holds your head down, your nose pressed to his pelvis. he shoots 4 ropes of cum down your throat. you cough and sputter as he holds you down.

when he finally lets go, you come flying off him, coughing and gagging. you swallow all his cum, not really having a choice not to. you wipe your mascara infused tears off your face and wipe your mouth of your saliva.

hongjoong catches his breath before leaning over to save his work and close his tabs. he takes one look at you and laughs. he pulls his pants back up and stands up. he leans down to help you off the floor. “let’s go home.”

© lomlhwa 2023

After LIKE Part Two | smg x f!reader

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~5.2k

You and Mingi find out what happens after like.

Part One

Warnings: weed mention, grinding, dirty talk, big dick!mingi, oral f. rec., fingering, possessive!mingi, restraining but not really, unprotected sex, creampie

Reader Notes: wap, gets carried by mingi, hands are smaller than mingi's 

You sit heavily on your bed, your skin still shiny with lotion and a damp towel holding all of your hair. It’s been a week since that day in the car, and you haven’t seen Mingi since. It’s no one’s fault - you’ve been insanely busy with school and work and he picked up a new apprenticeship so your respective free time has been limited.

But you just finished up at the cafe and you’re pretty sure Mingi mentioned keeping his Friday’s clear, so you’re hoping you’ve caught him at a good time. You miss him, like you never thought you could, and it doesn’t help that you can’t stop thinking about what happened last week.

Nobody’s ever kissed you like that, so thoroughly, so passionately, so carefully, like getting to be close to you at all is a privilege, and you want more. You want to see him and touch him and kiss him and you want to do it now, so when your phone lights up with a text, you open it and bring it to your face immediately.

You squeal, dropping back to rest on your bed and holding your phone to your chest as if it’s something precious. Twenty minutes means he’s dropping whatever he was doing to come to your place, and you feel your heart squeeze in your chest as you picture him zipping around his apartment, getting ready to come see you.

Twenty minutes also doesn’t give you a lot of time to get dressed and tidy up, but you keep your flat relatively clean so there isn’t too much to do. A quick sweep over your bedroom, living room, and kitchen confirms this. The real dilemma is in what to wear.

Do you go for full comfort, like you know he will? Do you wear something cute but casual, something that makes you look like you’re trying but not too hard? Should you risk going for sexy? You do have that little satin pajama set…

In the end, you decide on a pair of lounge pants that make your ass look amazing and a tank top that’s just low cut enough. You’re comfortable, but you still feel and look hot and you hope Mingi will think so as well.

You miss a time where you didn’t agonize over your clothing choices, but you suppose this is who you are now. Someone who goes through five different outfits before landing on the right one, someone who sits on their couch and waits for a knock, someone who all but runs to the door when it finally comes.

Mingi seems as relieved to see you as you are to see him, thankfully. As soon as you get the door open, he breathes a greeting and pulls you into a hug, your arms wrapping around his neck and his wrapping around your waist. He smells so good, fresh and clean and manly, and when he pulls back to press a kiss to your forehead, you feel yourself melt.

It’s a good thing he’s holding you up, and you only become more grateful as his eyes travel from head to toe, roving lovingly over every clothed inch of you. Your agonizing was not in vain, it seems, his gaze filling with heat before he clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. He apparently forgot he’d pulled a beanie on because he knocks it right off his head, making his cheeks tint in a blush as he leans down and swipes it off the ground.

Mingi wrings the knitted hat in his hands and shifts on his feet, looking at you through his eyelashes. You grin affectionately, reaching up to fix his hair with your fingers before cupping his cheek and tilting your chin. He takes the hint, leaning in and softly pressing his lips to yours.

This kiss is just as good as the rest, just as sweet and right and perfect, and when he pulls away, you can’t swallow the sigh. You wish he was still kissing you, but he opens his mouth to speak instead.

“So, did you wanna buy today? Or…,” he trails off, looking nervous for your answer.

“No, I just wanted to see you,” you respond with a shy smile, holding a hand out with raised eyebrows.

“Oh,” he exhales, tension you hadn’t noticed in his shoulders fading away as he beams back at you and takes your hand in his bigger one. You lead him to your couch, sitting down first and patting the cushion next to you. Usually, you go to his place, and you can tell he’s feeling a bit out of sorts here.

You don’t know how to soothe him beyond behaving normally, so that’s what you do. You turn the TV to the show you both watch on repeat and chat at him until he loosens up enough to let his thigh touch yours. His warmth radiates into you, drawing you into his gravity and making you lean closer and closer until you’re all but pressed against his side.

He shifts next to you, his arm raising and staying aloft until you snuggle in and get comfortable. His arm feels heavy when he drapes it over your shoulders, but it’s a welcome weight, one that makes you feel safe and content and, honestly, a little sleepy.

You could easily doze off like this, nestled into his side with his heart thumping under your cheek and your breathing synced with his. When his fingers start to play with the ends of your hair, you know it’s not only a possibility, but an inevitability. You can feel every blink growing longer, every breath growing deeper, and as his fingers climb their way up your hair and to your scalp, you let your eyes fall completely shut.

Hopefully, Mingi won’t mind you having a little nap.

When you blink awake, your flat is dark but for the flashing light of the TV. Mingi is breathing slowly under you, and you look up at him to find his eyes closed and his lips gently parted. You don’t know when you became horizontal, but you can’t say you mind, with Mingi’s chest beneath your cheek and his thick thigh pressed between yours.

You can feel something else pressing against you, but there’s no way. Sure, Mingi could be having a very good dream, but the, for lack of a better word, pipe that lays against your inner thigh is just too fucking big to be real. But he is 6 foot, and his hands and feet are massive, so is it really that hard to believe his cock would be huge too?

“Mmmm,” Mingi rumbles under you, his chest vibrating with the depth of his voice. You can feel him start to wake up, his fingers twitching in your hair and his belly raising as he takes a deep breath in.

His eyes open slowly, his head angling in different directions as he looks around your dark flat. Grinning down at you sleepily, he tugs your hair and murmurs something you can’t make quite out, something about warmth and being happy. You can tell the exact moment he realizes how hard he is, his body tensing under yours and a sharp gasp leaving his lips.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he shifts under you and tries to pull his hips away. “Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” you attempt to smile reassuringly, petting his abs over his t-shirt and attempting to keep potential awkwardness at bay.

“You’re right,” he deadpans, “It’s your fault.”

“It is?” you freeze, your smile falling and your hand stilling on his stomach. He smirks down at you, obviously proud of his little turn around and almost obnoxiously attractive as a result. You don’t know what else to say, and you’re sure he can tell, probably even likes having stunned you.

“What do you think I was dreaming about?” he quirks an eyebrow at you, letting his eyes fall to your lips.

“My sparkling personality?”

“Nah, babe. But if you don’t want to hear it, I won’t tell you.”

You know he’s teasing you, but you rush to say, “No no no no, I wanna hear it!”

You can tell he’s biting back a smirk at your enthusiasm, making you shift on top of him and inadvertently grind against his hard on. He clenches his jaw, the hand not tangled in your hair finding its way to your hip for a sharp squeeze.

“I was dreaming about you, laying in your bed in the dark, just like the photo you sent me.”

“You couldn’t even see me in that,” you remind him, but he shakes his head and breathes, “Maybe not but I knew you were there, and because I couldn’t see you, I had to fill in the blanks for myself. What you were wearing, what you were doing, who you were thinking about…”

He pulls your hips into his, the thickness of his thigh spreading your legs further and making you press harder against him.

“And in my dream, you weren’t wearing anything. You were naked, fresh out of the shower like you were when you answered the door, and you were touching yourself, thinking about me. Do you ever do that? Touch yourself and think about me?”

You gasp at his bold words, your mind going back to what exactly you did that night after you sent him that picture. How does he know?

“I know because I do the same thing, babe. I lay in my bed and I think about you, and I get so fucking hard, I can’t stand it.” His voice is deep now, his eyes half lidded and his cock throbbing beneath you as he works both you and himself up.

“Tell me, please. What do you think about?” he begs, grinding you over his thigh and gasping when he feels how your wetness has soaked through both of the layers on your bottom half.

“I think about you, how you would touch me and what you’d want to do to me and how big you probably definitely are and-”

And before you can finish exposing yourself, his mouth covers yours in a needy kiss, his groan so low pitched, you feel the vibrations in your pussy. He grows harder against you with each grind, the front of his sweats getting progressively darker from both his leaking cock and your weeping cunt.

“Fuck, can I touch you? I’ve wanted to get my hands on you for fucking years.”

“Years?!” You choke, bucking in his hold and struggling to sit up. You straddle him, your hands planted on his chest, and nearly shout, “Explain!”

Mingi grimaces, removing his hands from your hips to press his palms to his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at you as he responds. You won’t allow that, pulling his hands back and returning them to their rightful place while he gathers his courage.

“When I went up to you at San and Yeosang’s party, I wanted to ask you to dance. I saw you in my classes but you only seemed interested in learning so I didn’t want to bother you, and when I saw you at the party, I thought it was time to shoot my shot. But I chickened out and talked to you about class instead and you looked kinda… disinterested, until you saw the joints.”

All your breath rushes out of you, leaving you lightheaded and swaying on top of Mingi as you process his words. He’s been into you… this whole time? No wonder he was so upset after your first kiss, he’d been envisioning it for three years.

“I’m not saying I’m in love with you, I know that would be a lot and that we don’t actually know each other that well, but I want to get to know you that well. I want to be able to say I’m in love with you and I want to know that you’ll say it back.”

You’re a little relieved to hear that he’s not in love with you, and over the moon to hear that he wants to be. You’re also slightly scared because admitting your feelings has never been your forte, and you know it’s your turn now.

“Mingi, I- I could see myself falling in love with you. You’re so thoughtful and sweet, you know my favorite snacks and what to do when I’m stressed - you’ve always taken care of me. And it helps that you’re ridiculously hot.”

He flexes beneath you, grinning so brightly you’re nearly blinded with it. He’s also still hard, still throbbing and pressed between your legs, and your hips move before you can even think about why they shouldn’t. Nevermind that you’re having a conversation three years in the making, you have a need that’s been brewing just as long.

His head tips back at the friction, his jawline so sharp, you want to cut your tongue on it and his neck so tantalizing, your teeth ache with the desire to sink in. There’s nothing stopping you, so you lean down and drag your canines over his jugular, nipping your way to his ear to whisper, “And yes, you can touch me.”

His whole body trembles in a shiver, his cock twitching under you and his hands so tight on your hips, you know you’ll bear his fingerprints later. He gives you one last squeeze before smoothing his hands up your back, pulling you flush to him and sitting up in a movement so sudden, it steals your breath and sends your heart galloping.

You don’t have time to reorient yourself before he tips you backwards and gazes down at you with half-lidded eyes, his hands hovering over your body like he doesn’t know where he wants to touch first. You’d think after so many years spent yearning for you, he’d have a plan but-

“Can I take this off?” he breathes, his palms already sliding up your stomach and taking your tank with them. The fabric obscures your vision as soon as you nod, your arms automatically raising to allow him to pull it all the way off. You’re left in a bralette and your lounge pants, and before you can ask him to, Mingi hauls his shirt over his head, leaving you speechless and far too distracted to assist him in taking your bra off.

He glows in the natural light flowing into your living room, his muscles defined and his hair messy. He looks like a dream, literally, he looks like he did in the dream you had last night, except now you can really see him, touch him, feel him. You can feel his fingers fumbling behind your back to undo the clasp, you can feel his strong arms bracketing your waist, you can feel his warm thighs spreading yours apart.

You can also feel how wet you are, especially now that air is coming into contact with the damp gusset of your pants. You’d be embarrassed if Mingi wasn’t hard enough to cut a diamond, if he wasn’t wide eyed and slack jawed at seeing your top half bare, if he wasn’t currently ducking toward your chest with an obvious mission in his eyes.

He cups your breasts with his hands, testing their weight and holding them up for his seeking lips, his mouth wrapping around one nipple and his fingertips rolling the other. Your back arches at the wet heat that engulfs you, a sharp gasp escaping when he sets his teeth into the soft flesh and gives it a tug.

Pulling away to admire his handiwork, he brushes a thumb over the mark he just left and leans back, curling his fingers in the waistband of your pants and beginning to tug. You lift your ass just enough to help, letting Mingi fold your legs up and yank the pants off of them like he’s personally offended by the article of clothing.

You’re left in just your panties, and thank God you chose a cute pair because he’s looking so closely at you, you want to squirm. His eyes feel like physical weights on you, his hands shaking where he carefully places them on your stomach and drags them down. As he tucks his fingers into the waist of your underwear, you expect him to start taking them off but instead, he pulls them up, putting pressure on your clit and outlining your wet folds.

“What are you doing?” you gasp, one hand flying down to curl around his fingers and the other clawing at the arm of the couch.

“Having some fun.” His focus is still stuck between your legs, his voice gravelly and low, “I waited three years, babe, I have a lot of ideas.” That’s all you need to hear, the reminder of how long he’s wanted you.

“Play away,” you release his hand, letting yours join its twin above your head, and he groans at the picture you make.

“So fucking pretty, baby. Keep your hands there, yeah?”

You nod and do your best to stay still as he hikes your stretched underwear up high on your hips and spreads his knees, splaying your legs even further apart. You’re almost completely exposed like this but it’s hot, you feel hot, like maybe Mingi is the lucky one here, not you.

He’s definitely acting like that’s the case, muttering little compliments under his breath and touching you so reverently you’re shocked he’s not on his knees worshiping you. When he tucks your knees up and slides down the couch so he can shoulder your thighs apart and stare right at your clothed cunt, you wonder if that’s his next step.

You wouldn’t mind, don’t mind this, bar the fact that you wouldn’t miss your underwear. You mind it even less when he tentatively places his palms on your thigh and starts to glide them up, his calluses from lifting dragging against your sensitive skin and making you shiver.

His thumbs trace the edge of the dampened fabric, threatening to slip under and touch you bare, and you could cry at how much of a tease he’s being. You’re aching for it, your pussy so empty and wet, you won’t be surprised if he has you begging before he even takes his pants off. You’re almost ready to beg now, and just as you open your mouth to let out a, “Please,” he slides his fingers into your panties.

“Fuck,” you say in unison, your utterance sounding more like a sigh than a swear as he glides his thick fingers through your folds and over your clit. It throbs under his touch, desperate for attention, but he bypasses it to dip into your entrance and gather more of your wetness on his fingers.

He uses his other hand to pull your underwear to the side as he brings his fingers up into the light of the TV, spreading them and smirking at the strings of arousal that bridge the gap. You whine and cover your face with your hands, embarrassed at how wet you are and at the fact that he’s practically gloating over it.

“Don’t hide,” he chastises you, sucking at his fingers before peeling your hands away from your face and returning them to their place above your head. “I love how wet you are, it makes me feel good and it’ll be easier for you to take my dick later.”

He returns his focus to your cunt, licking at his lips like he’s chasing the taste of you he’d just gotten and asking, “Can I eat you out? Need you in my mouth.”

“Please!” you gasp, watching him stare at your pussy like you’re a ten course meal and he’s famished. He dives in as soon as you finish speaking, his lips finding your clit so fast you don’t even have time to take in another breath before you’re gasping again and digging your nails into the couch to keep your fingers from disappearing into his hair.

The sounds he makes as he feasts on you are obscene, his whimpers and groans and grunts sending pulses of want through your body that all end where he begins. Shaking his head, he buries his tongue deeper within your folds, curling it around your clit and sliding it as deep inside you as he can reach. No one has ever eaten you out like this before, like they’ll die if they don’t taste every drop of you, like your cunt is air and they’ve been suffocating, like they’re on death row and you’re their last meal.

It’s incredible, and it only gets better when he pulls just far enough back to rasp, “Fingers?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, Mingi.” Those may be the only words you know now, all others erased from existence by his appetite. One finger prods at your entrance before sinking in with ease thanks to how drenched you are, and you clench down around it without even thinking, your body so needy for something to fill you up that just one of his thick fingers is enough.

A second joins the first, the stretch making you sigh and his lips around your clit making you keen. He curls them, rooting around for your g-spot and finding it before you can take another breath. Digging in, he rubs his calloused fingertips over the sensitive patch of nerves, your back arching and your walls fluttering as he fucks you with his fingers.

He sucks at your clit, worrying it between his lips and laving at it with his tongue, and already, you’re starting to get close. “Harder, Mingi, please,” you whine, needing just a bit more to get there and more than willing to tell him.

His fingers pound into you, hooking into your g-spot on every thrust in and spreading on every stroke out. It’s a tight fit but he works another finger in beside the first two, his digits so much longer and thicker and better than yours. The stretch adds another layer of pleasure to what you already feel, your cunt so full with his fingers, you almost can’t believe you’re going to take his cock.

But, by God, you will, or you’ll die trying. First, though, you’ll cum.

It was really only a matter of time, and when he curls his fingers into your g-spot and leaves them there with a harsh suck of his mouth on your clit, you’re done. The wave that overcomes you is inescapable, pulls you under and into a state of rapture so blinding, you almost don’t even notice his eyes on you.

But, there they are, watching you tumble through the orgasm he pushed you into with a heat and headiness you’ve never seen before. Knowing that he’s watching you makes everything better, heightens every sensation and draws out every burst of bliss, and when he finally pulls away, he’s still watching you.

His lips are swollen, the whole lower half of his face soaked with your arousal, and he’s looking at you like he could go for seconds, thirds, and fourths. You’d let him, would let him drown in you all day if he asked, but right now, you need him to split you open.

“Fuck me, Mingi,” you half sigh, half plead, your face crumpling in impatience when he takes his time pulling his fingers out of you before licking off every single trace. He grins up at you from between your spread legs, resting his cheek on your thigh and exhaling, “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, Mingi,” you whine, “Fuck me, fuck me, fu-”

He pushes your legs apart and slides up your body, resting his hands on either side of your head and connecting your mouth with his in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, and you love it, love tasting the physical evidence of your desire for him and his hunger for you.

Your fingers tuck into the waistband of his sweats and he mumbles, “Off,” into your mouth, taking over when you take too long. He pushes them and his boxers down, kicking them off his legs and leaving his massive cock hanging between your bodies and brushing against your stomach.

It’s hot to the touch and leaking precum onto your skin, and it’s also the biggest you’ve ever seen, as thick as a can of soda and long enough to reach the end of you. Any trepidation you feel vanishes when you look back up to Mingi and find him examining you with a worried expression.

“Do you think it’ll fit?” he gently asks, looking back and forth between his body and yours with doubt.

“Make it fit,” you tell him, widening your legs as one of his hands reaches down to line his cock up with your entrance. You both watch him enter you, watch his cock split you open and spread you apart, watch it carve a path inside you that’s for him and him alone.

He shudders out a long breath as your cunt stretches to welcome him, his hips getting closer and closer to yours until they’re pressed together, his cock fully seated inside you and filling you to the brim.

You can’t breathe and it seems he can’t either, his elbows buckling and his upper body dropping to rest on yours. He’s mumbling something into your shoulder, a litany of words you can’t make out and one phrase you can, “Fucking tight and wet and perfect, never felt this good, never.”

You preen beneath him, your pussy fluttering and your hips wiggling, making him groan deep in his chest, press his teeth into your skin, and give you a sharp thrust. You buck back, following him when he recedes, and he starts moving his hips in an unhurried, smooth rhythm, his movements eased by your overflowing arousal and the three fingers he’d opened you up with.

He fucks you like that, slow and deep and dirty, until you feel like you could scream. It feels amazing, and you love being this close to him, but you need him to go harder, faster, need him to fuck you like he means it.

“Mingi,” you begin, your voice more ragged than you expect, and he lifts his head up with a smirk, grinds his hips against yours, and pulls back, sitting up on his heels and hoisting you into his lap.

You can’t hold in your gasp at the new angle, nor your moan at the way he fills you again, and again, and again. You clench down at the picture he makes, his abs flexing with every thrust and his hands huge on your hips, while he bullies through your tightness to tap your g-spot with the head of his cock. Your back arches, a wounded cry leaving your open mouth as he starts fucking you in earnest, just like you wanted.

It’s perfect, he’s perfect, everything you could ever need or ever want, and suddenly, you feel the urge to tell him.

“Mingi, you’re so fucking good, you fill me up so well,” you whimper, and you can feel him get harder in you, feel him twitch and leak and throb.

“Like nobody else, right?” he questions breathlessly, his hands tight on your hips and his brow furrowed.

“Like nobody else,” you confirm with a squeeze of your insides and a sigh of his name.

“And there won’t be anybody else, right?” he punctuates his question with a rough thrust, his cock reaching a depth that makes stars swim in your vision.

“No, baby, nobody else.”

Grinning savagely, he pounds into you, the sound of his movements inside you pornographic and nigh embarrassing. You’re so ridiculously wet, there’s a squelch every time he pushes in and a gush of arousal every time he pulls out, and both your thighs and his shine with it. Thankfully, you don’t have any thoughts to spare on being embarrassed, your hazy mind too occupied with Mingi and retaining the capacity to breathe.

“There’s no one else for me, too, you know that?” he speeds up, his hips slapping against yours and his head tipping back even as he keeps talking. “I tried, but I just keep coming back to you. Haven’t even dated in- in a year, because your pickups were enough for me, fuck, I’m close.”

A year?!

You didn’t even realize you were nearing that peak but when he shifts one hand down to rub your clit, you’re suddenly right there, teetering on the edge and waiting for him to fall over with you. He battles through the clenching of your walls to hit your g-spot, his aim so precise it’s like he’s got a lock on it, and it’s enough to break you.

“Are you cumming, baby?” he asks desperately, and you find it in yourself to nod even as your orgasm steals your breath, your voice, your ability to think. He wheezes, “Thank fucking God,” and you can feel his cock start jerking and jumping inside you as he fills you up with white, hot cum. The sensation draws out your release, makes each wave hit harder and longer, makes your cunt clench and ripple and undulate around him until he’s shaking and near tears.

“Fuck,” he sighs, pulling a hand from your hip to wipe at the sweat coating his forehead before letting himself slowly fall down and cover your body with his. You catch your breath while he rests, your pussy still pulsing around his softening dick as a combination of your cum starts to seep out.

“Can we take a shower?” you inquire in a small voice, your fingertips digging into his toned shoulders and your legs starting to ache.

“Course, baby,” he breathes, snaking his arms under you and pulling you up into his chest as he gets off of the couch. You didn’t expect him to carry you, scrambling to wrap your legs around his waist, though you know he’d never let you fall. He stops at the entrance of the hallway, unsure of where to go.

Soon enough, he’ll know your apartment as well as you know his, but until then, you direct him, “First on the left,” and hide a grin in his shoulder when he stubs his toe on the doorframe.

AN: posting part two a bit early in honor of mingi’s birthday!! im overjoyed with all the feedback i got on part one and i can’t wait to hear your thoughts on the conclusion!

thank you to @petrichor-mingi for beta reading and thank you to @bbychocolat for the original commission 💖

My Masterlist

seonghwa cried as you got on one knee, proposing to him with a lego ring box. you opened it and he smiled, although the tears never stopping, he sees the pretty lego ring fitted inside. "i do." he says quietly as you rise, quickly slipping the 'diamond' ring onto his ring finger, with it fitting snuggly.

"i'm not done." and right on cue, hongjoong came out holding a 'bouquet' of 'flowers' which, you guessed it, were the lego flowers he had wanted around a month back.

seonghwa couldn't contain his excitement as he jumped and tackled you in a sweet hug, peppering your face with kisses. "i love you so much, oh my god!" he cried again as he held onto the 'bouquet', remembering to be as gentle as possible as it was fragile.

the other members come out from their hiding place to congratulate the couple. popping confetti and even bringing out a lego cake, bringing seonghwa to his knees, "you didn't have to-" you pulled him up, "i wanted to," you kissed his temple, "only the best for my fiancé!"

aemulus. (noun) latin for rival or competitor. thought to be the origin of the name emily.

park seonghwa is in no position to ask you for a favor. but being underqualified for something has never stopped him before.

pairing: academic rival!seonghwa x fem!reader

details: grad school/nursing school au, fake dating

word count: 8.1k

warnings: swearing, food allergy, smut (18+ mdni), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, discussion of birth control methods

a/n: for @sluttywoozi's birthday <3 (just a month and a half late)

playlist

“I need a favor.”

“From me?”

Seonghwa tongues his cheek and looks around. “Is there anyone else in the room?”

You scoff. You aren’t friends with Park Seonghwa. You don’t even particularly like Park Seonghwa. You know the feeling’s mutual so why was he asking you for a favor?

“If you want something from me you should try being a little nicer,” you mutter, turning your attention back to the textbook on the desk in front of you. 

You hear Seonghwa sigh beside you before he tries again. “Sorry, yes, I need a favor from you. I need a date to this event Dr. Harvey is hosting for all of his graduate mentees next weekend.”

Date? You? Your face must be scrunched up into an expression of confusion and concern because Seonghwa puts his hand out to stop you before you interject. 

“Yes, it has to be you. I-I’m trying to secure a position on his research team next semester and I need an extra edge.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And I’m the extra edge?”

“Exactly! Dr. Harvey loves you. If I show up with you on my arm, the spot is mine for sure.”

“You really think it’ll be that easy? I haven’t taken one of Dr. Harvey’s classes since undergrad.”

You’re not even a student in Seonghwa’s program, the one Dr. Harvey was the head of. There just happened to be some overlap between your field of study and his that required you to take some of the same courses. 

“But you were his TA last semester, and you’re the top student in the department, after me-” you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes, “he brings you up in almost every meeting we have,” he continues, sounding more than a little annoyed, “when we’re supposed to be talking about my dissertation.”

Despite the non-case Seonghwa was making on his behalf, you couldn’t help but feel a little curious. “He does? What does he say?’

“Usually, it’s little comments about how you would do something differently, which is not-so-subtle code for better. If you ever decide to write a dissertation on microbiology, let him know. I’m sure he’d love to be your mentor-” Seonghwa stops himself there, taking a deep breath as if to physically shake the bitterness from his demeanor. “Sorry. The point is that he thinks very highly of you and it would really help me out if you were my plus-one to this thing.”

“And what exactly does ‘this thing’ entail?”

“It’s a little appreciation banquet for all of the students he’s mentoring. He said it’s at this hotel, I think it’s downtown, and it’s a dinner and drinks in the evening and a brunch the next morning-”

“Wait, it’s overnight?” You hadn’t meant or intended to interrupt him but the prospect of spending the night in the same room with Park Seonghwa was enough to make you panic and forget your manners. 

Seonghwa looks annoyed that you cut him off but holds himself back from responding with something snippy. Instead, he lets it go. Unheard of for him.

“Yes, but it’s just one night.”

“One night?” He nods. “And I just have to show up with you?”

“Well, you’d pretend to be my girlfriend. ”

Right. That had sort of been implied when he asked but you were hoping that wasn’t the case. It honestly sounded like a nightmare, but the idea of having something to hold over Seonghwa’s head was tempting. 

Doing him the favor was one thing. The execution of said favor was another. Were you going to be able to put on a believable act as Seonghwa’s girlfriend? It certainly wasn’t going to come naturally to you... but you were friends with a bunch of theatre kids. You could pull it off. Probably. 

“Okay, well, what’s in it for me?” you ask.

He blinks, clearly caught off guard by your question like he hadn’t expected to get this far. 

“What do you want?”

Oh fuck. You scramble to think of something worthwhile that he could be of use for, coming up short in pretty much all aspects.

“My dad’s getting married in a couple of months. Our little duet can have an encore then.”

Seonghwa grins and offers his hand for you to shake. “Send me the details. Pleasure doing business.”

-

It isn’t until Seonghwa’s already left the classroom that he realizes he doesn’t even have your number. He’s known you for years now but has never had to contact you outside of the context of school. Never had reason to. He could turn around right now and go back and ask for your phone number. You’re still in there. 

He lets his pride get the better of him, and with a quiet groan, he shoves his hands in his pockets and keeps walking. He’ll just email you later to ask for it. 

-

You iron out the details over text, once Seonghwa finally gets your number. You had made fun of him in your reply email for forgetting to get it back when he begged you to come with him in the first place, which only reassured Seonghwa that he had made the right choice that day. It would’ve been way more embarrassing to have you say that to his face. 

He asks you to meet him at a cafe the day before the event so you can iron out your story together. You look nervous, he notes, so he tries to break the ice. 

“Thank you for agreeing to meet here. I would’ve had you over to my place, but my roommates are kind of obnoxious.”

“That’s okay. Thanks for the coffee.” You gesture with your cup, shaking the ice around before taking a tentative sip. 

“Least I could do, considering.”

You shrug. “You’re already repaying me by going to my dad’s wedding with me, but I’m not one to turn down free coffee.”

“Fair enough.” He clears his throat. “So, how’d we fall in love?”

-

Seonghwa picks you up at five pm on Saturday. He makes some comment about you looking nice that you don’t really believe he means, but you return the compliment anyway. He does look good. Annoyingly so. He had told you it was a formal event but you hadn’t expected him to show up in a fucking three-piece suit. 

His hair is slicked back on the side to show off his undercut, and wire-rimmed glasses sit on the bridge of his nose, the reflection of traffic lights and street lamps shining in the lenses. It’s a little intimidating to be on his arm for the night when he looks like that, not that you didn’t also dress for the occasion, he just... looks so sharp. 

“Do you have everything you need?” he asks as you climb into the passenger seat. “Pajamas? Toothbrush?”

“I think so.”

“If you forget something we can probably grab it at the kiosk they have in the lobby,” he assures you.

You groan. “Yeah, but we’ll have to pay a small fortune for it.”

“That’s the price of convenience.” He puts the car in drive and navigates out of your apartment complex’s parking lot onto the main road. “You can pick the music,” he offers after a moment of silence. 

“But you’re the one driving.”

“Is that a rule?”

“Yeah, the driver picks the music. Have you never heard of that before?”

He shakes his head but hums thoughtfully. “No, but I don’t mind. I’m not picky.”

“Shocking,” you mutter under your breath. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

You plug the aux into the lightning port on your phone and scroll through your playlist until you land on something you deem to be neutral enough to play in the background. You can feel Seonghwa watching you out of the corner of his eye but you willfully ignore it. 

“Do you remember the story?”

You nod. “We only got together officially a couple of months ago. You asked me out by waiting outside the door of one of my classes last semester-”

“Which class?”

“Um...” you frowned, trying to remember. 

“It was pharmacology.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Just be sure to remember that.”

“I don’t think anyone is going to be interrogating us about our relationship,” you scoff. 

Seonghwa takes a deep breath. “You’re right, I’m sorry. This is just important to me and it needs to be believable. If anyone were to find out that I tried to pull this shit off just to get on Harvey’s good side... I don’t even know what would happen to me. Like, would I get expelled? I definitely wouldn’t get the position, I-”

“Woah,” you cut him off before he can spiral any further, “we... don’t have to do this. You can drop me off back at my apartment and pretend like it never happened. I won’t make you go to the wedding...”

“No, no I need you,” Seonghwa insists, panicked. “It just... didn’t occur to me how stupid this idea was until now.”

“If you think it’s a bad idea we shouldn’t do it,” you reason.

“It is a bad idea,” he agrees, “but I don’t know what else to do. Jung Wooyoung is vying for the same spot and he’s way more likable than me.”

“That’s not true, he’s just more of a kiss-ass.”

“Same thing. Either way, I already told them I was bringing a plus-one so I can’t show up without you.”

You nod, holding back from suggesting other alternatives. Seonghwa seemed resolute on going through with it and it wouldn’t do any good to try and convince him otherwise. He was like you in that way. Stubborn to a fault. Trying to “fix” the problem would only start an argument and that was the last thing you needed right now. So you let it go, and it only killed you on the inside a little bit. 

-

Seonghwa checks into your room as soon as you get to the hotel. Since it’s late in the afternoon, it’s already ready, and you go up to drop off your things before navigating to the ballroom together. 

You try to ignore the single king-size bed in the middle of the room but it’s like it’s glaring right at you, taunting you in the reflection of the vanity mirror as you reapply your lipgloss. If Seonghwa notices your apprehension about it he doesn’t say anything. 

“We don’t have to go over the top,” Seonghwa reminds you in the elevator. “You don’t have to kiss me or be super touchy if you don’t want to. Some hand holding and familiarity should do it.”

“Are you sure?” 

He smirks at you. “I mean, if you want to kiss me, you’re more than welcome to. But it wasn’t part of our agreement.”

You stare at him. He had never said anything like that to you before. It felt like it had come out of nowhere. The smirk falls when he sees your reaction and he side steps away from you, clearing his throat awkwardly. 

“Sorry, I was, uh, I was kidding. It was, I wasn’t-”

The elevator dings to signal its arrival on the first floor before Seonghwa can finish whatever excuse he was stuttering through. He motions for you to exit first, putting his arm in front of the door to keep it from closing. When you turn back to look at him, he’s all calm and collected again like nothing even happened. The only evidence of ruffled feathers was the pressed set of his lips and the pink tinge of his cheeks. 

“Ready?” he asks, straightening his tie. 

“As I’ll ever be.”

He offers his hand to you and you take it, entwining your fingers with his. His thumb finds the back of your hand and draws absentminded circles. You’re not sure if it’s supposed to be comforting but it is. 

There are already a few people mingling when you and Seonghwa make it to the ballroom. You don’t recognize any of them but that was to be expected. Seonghwa had said that it was an intimate event, just Dr. Harvey, his mentees, and their potential plus-ones. Not everyone is here yet from what you can tell. You can’t hear Jung Wooyoung’s loud voice echoing throughout the hall so you figure he must be one of the late ones. 

The way the room is decorated reminds you a bit of Christmas with the opulent chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and the ivy garlands laid across the tables. All that's missing are the trees wrapped in lights and potted poinsettias in every corner.

Dr. Harvey is in the middle of a conversation with a couple of other students when he spots the two of you. He excuses himself and approaches you with a smile. 

“I’m glad that you both could make it!” he says, greeting you with a hug. 

He hugs your fake boyfriend next and claps him firmly on the back. Seonghwa coughs at the unexpected hit but plays it off easily with a chuckle. 

“When Park told me he was bringing you, I thought he was kidding. I couldn’t believe he finally got the guts to ask you out.”

Seonghwa stiffens next to you but keeps the smile plastered on his face. You, on the other hand, can’t mask your surprise. 

“What do you mean?” you press. 

“Oh, just that I sort of wondered if you kids would get together,” he explains. “You used to argue in my class all the time as undergraduates, but whenever we had group activities you would pair up anyway.”

“That’s because we didn’t trust anyone else with the work,” Seonghwa points out. 

You squeeze his hand urgently, trying to tell him to shut the fuck up before he ruins his chances with his big mouth. Thankfully, he seems to get the message and relaxes a little but you can tell he still wants to protest.   

“You didn’t even trust each other with the work,” the professor corrects. “You would bicker about every little thing under your breath when you thought I couldn’t hear even though you always sat in the front of the classroom.”

“I guess we are a little competitive,” you admit with a grin, looking up at Seonghwa with what you hope comes across as affection. 

“That’s an understatement, my love,” he agrees.

“Well, it’s nice to see that you’ve been able to turn that energy into something positive,” Dr. Harvey says. “What changed?”

“Well, we’d been seeing each other for a while and finally decided to make it official,” Seonghwa muses. 

And by ‘seeing each other’ he meant fucking. When you decided on your story that day in the cafe, Seonghwa had said it would make the most sense if your fake relationship budded from a friends-with-benefits thing- or acquaintances with benefits, whatever the two of you were. But of course, you couldn’t tell your professor that so you had to more so imply it by talking around the subject.

“Well, I hope that you being together means I’ll get to see more of your face. Park, you need to bring your girlfriend around the department some time. I’m sure the other faculty miss you too.”

Seonghwa nods. “I’ll be sure to do that, sir.”

“Great! I think some more people are starting to trickle in so I should go say hello, but please help yourselves to drinks while we wait for dinner.”

You both thank him and wait before saying anything else to each other. 

“I think that went okay,” Seonghwa sighs.

“Could’ve been worse,” you agree. 

He takes a quick look around before turning back to you. “Do you want something to drink, baby?”

“God, yes.”

At the bar, Seonghwa orders you both a glass of wine. It’s an open bar but there’s a little fish bowl for tips balanced on the edge of the counter so he deposits a couple of bills in it as he thanks the bartender.

He holds one of the glasses out to you with a half-smile. “Cheers.”

“To getting through the night,” you propose. 

“To getting through the night.”

-

Dinner is a choice between a chicken pasta dish, a beef and potatoes dish, and ratatouille that could be made vegan upon request. 

“Does the pesto have pine nuts in it?” Seonghwa asks the server when he reaches your end of the table.

“No, all of our options tonight are nut-free,” he replies. 

“Perfect, thank you. Did you want the pasta, then, baby?” 

“I- yes please.”

“And I’ll get the beef and we can share.”

“Sounds good,” the server says as he jots down your orders on his little notepad. 

You wait until he moves on to the next guest before leaning over to your date and whispering “I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Hm?”

“You remembered... I’m allergic to tree nuts.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal and murmurs, “you almost dying in the middle of chem lab our freshman year is pretty hard to forget.”

He had a point. Still, you were surprised he remembered the girl that collapsed to the floor and had to be stabbed in the thigh with an EpiPen all those years ago as you. You’re not sure if you’d remember the details so clearly if it were the other way around. 

All of the dishes were pre-prepared by the hotel’s event catering staff so they were served almost immediately after the orders were taken. 

Dr. Harvey led the conversation, engaging each of his students about their studies and personal lives. He was even sure to include the plus ones at the table, making an effort to get to know them as well. That was why Dr. Harvey had been one of your favorite professors, why you’d agreed to TA for him when he asked. He genuinely cared about his students, wanted them to succeed and was willing to go the extra mile to help them do so. You still remember crying in his office over a failed lab report, remember how he had patiently walked you through what you’d done wrong until it finally clicked for you, how he ended up giving you half of the credit you missed back just for following up and showing how dedicated you were to learning the material.

Even now as he listens to his mentees talk about everything under the sun, he doesn’t want anyone to feel left out. 

A hand on your thigh startles you out of your zoning out. You had been trying your best to pay attention but it’s just so hard to stay attentive when Wooyoung opens his mouth. He’s been talking about algae for what you estimate to be the past twelve minutes- so in your defense, you never stood a chance anyway.

“Do you want another glass of wine?” Seonghwa asks, low enough for only you to hear.

You hadn’t even realized you’d finished your first one. It had probably happened sometime in the middle of Wooyung’s rambling. 

“Yes please.”

“Okay, be right back.”

He stands from the table and takes both yours and his empty glasses in one hand, using the other to push his chair back in. Thankfully, he’s back before you can be cornered by the others at the table. You can feel it, the curiosity your presence invokes from your peers. You only recognize a few of them but all of the sideways glances make you wonder how many of them suspect why you’re really here. Maybe you’re being paranoid. Maybe they’re just surprised Seonghwa managed to pull anyone at all... no, that couldn’t be it. He’s too hot, his personality alone wouldn’t be enough to deter anyone from going out with him. 

“What’s wrong?”

You take a sip from your newly refilled glass of wine and try to play it off. “Hm? What do you mean?”

“You’re making a face.”

“What face? This is just my face.”

“No, you’ve got that wrinkle in between your eyebrows. You’re worrying about something. What is it?”

You sigh and lean over to whisper in his ear. “I feel like your... friends think it’s weird that I’m here.”

“These people aren’t my friends.”

“I know. I didn’t know what else to call them- is that really the part of what I said that you think is important?”

“Why do you think they think it’s weird?”

“I don’t know, I just keep noticing everyone looking at me.”

“It’s probably because you’re pretty,” he suggests, which makes you want to change the subject entirely. 

He thinks you’re pretty? Does he think you’re pretty or does he think other people think you’re pretty? What would possess him to say something like that?

“That- no, it’s not that.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I know what a dirty look is and I’ve been getting a lot of them. Do you think they’re onto us?”

Seonghwa makes a displeased sound in the back of his throat. “I don’t know. Maybe I underestimated the number of people applying for the same position as me.”

“Maybe, and maybe they know we haven’t always gotten along and are suspicious of why this is the first they’re hearing of us dating.”

“I guess we need to turn it up, then,” Seonghwa muses under his breath. 

“Wha- that’s not what I-”

-

After dinner, there’s a bit of mingling. You get the opportunity to formally introduce yourself to the guests you’ve never met before and answer the burning question on everyone’s mind as to why you’re there in the first place. 

Seonghwa’s hand is warm on the small of your back, making you wish you had decided against wearing a backless dress. Although, you suspect you still would have been able to feel the heat of his palm through the silk had it offered more coverage. 

“Didn’t think you had it in you, Park,” Hongjoong, you thought his name was, says as he wraps an arm around his own date. In her heels, she’s taller than him by an inch or so, and somehow it only makes the man more intimidating. “Thought you were too busy for dating, or was that just an excuse?”

“I am busy. But when you meet the right person, you make time. You of all people should know that.”

Hongjoong narrows his eyes almost imperceptibly and grins. “You’re right, we’re all fools for love, aren’t we?”

“It certainly seems that way.”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong continue exchanging semi-polite small talk until the latter’s date tugs him away, mumbling something about needing another drink. 

“I didn’t realize you were so popular,” you say under your breath once the two are out of earshot.

“Yeah, you’re not the only one who hates me,” he mutters. 

“And here I thought we had something special.”

Seonghwa gives you a half-smile. “Sorry to break it to you like this.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t hate you,” you clarify, voice lowered. 

He can’t hide his surprise as his eyes widen. “Wait, really?”

You nod. “I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

He straightens up a bit, stiffening, and you wonder if you’ve said something wrong. “Good to know.”

You each have another drink before the night ends. Champagne is served with dessert and Dr. Harvey proposes a toast to all of his students once everyone’s gathered around the table again. 

You clink your glass to Seonghwa’s and take a sip. The bubbles soothe your throat, making the lies you’ve been telling all night easier to swallow. 

You’re not drunk, you haven’t had that much to drink, but the alcohol is definitely making you feel lighter. People have started filtering out of the ballroom to go to their rooms but a few linger a little longer, taking advantage of the free booze and relaxed atmosphere. Your professor flits between the remaining students, continuing conversations that had been cut short during or before dinner. 

Soft music is playing over the speakers and a few couples are dancing to it. Seonghwa hadn’t said anything about dancing, it probably wasn’t on the actual itinerary, but he draws you out to the floor without warning. You want to protest but his hands are already on your hips and your chest is already pressed to his. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to him, save bumping into each other in labs and accidentally spilling samples down your coats. Based on the number of times that had happened, you don’t expect Seonghwa to be particularly graceful. But he seems intent on proving you wrong as he leads you to the rhythm. 

“I didn’t know you could dance,” you murmur. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he quips back. 

You quirk an eyebrow. “Yeah? Like what?” 

He seems to think about it for a moment before answering. “I love Star Wars.”

“I already knew that.”

“What?”

“You used to bring a Darth Vader thermos to class. The lid was his helmet.”

“Legos?”

“Lego guy keychain.”

“Animal Crossing?”

“You’d literally play it in class.”

Seonghwa smirks. “Wow.”

“What?”

“I just didn’t realize you were obsessed with me.”

“Wha- I’m not obsessed with you!” you sputter. “I’m just very observant! And you make your interests too obvious.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” he teases, making you roll your eyes. 

He spins you before you get the chance to argue again, extending his arm all the way and then whipping it back so that you’re stumbling into his embrace. 

“My turn, then?” he asks. 

You feel your face scrunch up in confusion before you can stop it. “What do you mean?”

“Your favorite color is pink,” he whispers, as if it’s some kind of secret. “You love The Lord of the Rings. You quote it all the time. You like to cook. You always brought your leftovers for lunch and everyone would ask how you made whatever it was because it smelled so good.”

You’re staring at him now, lips slightly parted in surprise. His gaze flickers down to them and then back up. He smiles. 

“You’re not the only observant one.”

A song is still playing but you’ve stopped dancing. It’s like you’re standing in the eye of a storm, surrounded by music and conversation that blurs and distorts around you. It all sounds muffled, but that might just be the ringing in your ears. You realize what’s about to happen a moment before it does but you’re still unprepared when Seonghwa kisses you. 

His lips are softer than you expected, not that you’ve imagined kissing him before... not that you ever wondered. His arms are still around your waist and he pulls you in closer, deepening the kiss. 

You’re stiff at first, unsure of what to do with your arms or your own lips, but you relax when you feel his tongue swipe at your bottom lip. He makes a contented sort of sound in the back of his throat when you open your mouth for him. It’s just slightly, just enough for him to get a taste, but he seems pleased nonetheless. 

Distant cheering in the background startles the both of you out of your daze, pops the little bubble you’d somehow found yourselves in. It’s then that you remember that you’re in public, and that you probably shouldn’t be sucking each other's faces off in the middle of this very nice ballroom in front of your peers. 

You part, both a little breathless. 

“I hope that was okay,” Seonghwa whispers against your cheek. 

“It was, yeah. It was okay. More than okay.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He grins, the upturn of his cheeks pushing his specs higher on his nose, making glimmers of light from the chandelier dance in the reflection of the glass like stars falling from the sky. One of his hands strays from your waist to take your own.  “Wanna get out of here?”

You’re nodding before your brain can fully process the question. “Yes please.” 

-

The journey back up to your room is a blur. You vaguely register bidding Hongjoong, Dr. Harvey, and a couple of other people whose names had long since slipped your mind goodnight. You’re not sure what you said, Seonghwa probably took the lead. 

Your cheeks are warm with embarrassment as you make your way out of the hall hand in hand. You feel like everyone knows what you’re about to do. And with a kiss like that in a crowded room, it wouldn’t be hard to figure out.

But did it really matter if they knew you were about to get your back blown out? It would only help sell the story to them even more. At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself, still not ready to admit that you’re not playing pretend anymore. 

The clicking of your heels on the marble sounds entirely too loud as you walk through the lobby to the elevator bay. The lights have been dimmed for the night, emulating the darkness outside. Only a few employees remain behind the desks, stationed for any late check-ins. The rest had surely clocked out hours ago when the rush ended.

“Do you have a key?” Seonghwa asks you, eyeing the purse you’d somehow remembered to grab on your way out. 

You did, but, “there’s one in your pocket.”

His hand comes to the front of his pants, feeling for the plastic card. “Right. Sorry.”

He uses the key to activate the elevator and then he uses it again to open the door to your room. The ride up had been silent, and a little awkward, both of you standing on opposite sides of the tiny room, avoiding eye contact.  

You wonder if the energy has shifted, if the moment has passed. Had he suddenly come to his senses? Was he already regretting kissing you? 

You don’t get the chance to ask either of these things, however, because he’s kissing you again as soon as you stumble into the room. It’s dark, so everything is a little uncoordinated, but it almost seems fitting for you and Seonghwa. 

He presses you up against the door, fingers fumbling with the ties on the back of your dress. It’s hard for him to undo them when he can’t see what he’s doing, too occupied with kissing his way down your neck. 

“Fuck this,” he gasps, breaking away. “Lift up your arms.”

You do, gasping as Seonghwa tugs the silk up and over your head. It’s the kind of dress you can’t wear a bra with so you’re left completely bare from the waist up. 

“Fuck me,” he breathes, running his hands over your body. 

“I’m trying.”

A beat lapses before Seonghwa lets out a quiet chuckle. You’re the one to pull him back this time, tugging at his suit jacket as you kiss him in an attempt to get it off his shoulders. 

“Let me, um,” he mumbles against your lips, feeling along the wall of the little hallway you’re standing in for something. “Let me turn on a lamp or something. I want to see you.”

The comment makes you feel shy but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see him too so you let him go and only laugh a little bit when he trips over his suitcase on the way over to the desk.

“Oh, would you rather have it off?” he asks, noticing the way you’re holding your arms over your chest. 

“No, no, I want to see you too,” you assure him. “I just feel kind of weird being the only one naked.”

“Well that’s an easy fix.”

He makes his way back over to you, loosening his tie as he does. He leaves it hanging around his neck so that you can take it off for him. The satin feels heavy in your hands and you wonder briefly how it would feel tied around your wrists- another time, maybe. 

Seonghwa focuses on unbuttoning his shirt while you lift the tie over his head, hands brushing together as you work in tandem. 

You reach for his belt but he ducks out of your grasp with a grin, shrugging off the button up as he sinks down onto his knees in front of you. You barely register the feeling of his hands on your thighs. You’re too caught up with the way he’s looking up at you. He’s taken his glasses off, though you don’t know when- or where he’s put them for that matter, and is gazing up at you like painted the cosmos themselves. Like he fully intends on worshiping you. 

Park Seonghwa on his knees. What a sight. 

“Can I?” he asks, fingers gently wedging themselves in between your legs to part them. “Please?”

You nod. 

“I need you to say it.”

“You can,” you whisper. 

“I can... what?” Seonghwa presses. “I haven’t even said what it is I want to do to you.”

He’s taunting you now. It’s obvious what he meant when he asked you but he just loves pushing your buttons too much to stop, even when he’s on the verge of begging to taste your pussy. 

“You can do whatever you want to me,” you breathe. 

“Fuck.”

You nearly lose your balance as Seonghwa lifts one of your legs over his shoulder but he plants both of his hands on your ass and pulls you onto his face before that can happen. He groans at the first taste of you, even though it’s over your panties. You’re not sure whether he meant to leave them on to be even more of a tease or if he had just simply forgotten to take them off in the rush to get you on his tongue. 

They’re the seamless kind, the kind that aren’t supposed to show through thin material. You’d chosen to wear them with your dress instead of suffering through the discomfort of a thong all night. The comfort was a benefit. The sheerness was a drawback. You might as well not be wearing anything with how form fitting they were, especially considering how wet you already are.

Your hands are in Seonghwa’s hair and you’re trying not to pull too hard but you have to anchor yourself to something or you’re afraid your knees will buckle. 

“That’s it,” he praises, nose nudging your clit as he licks into you. It’s muffled but you can still make it out, if just barely. “Harder, baby.”

“Are you s-sure?”

He nods and the motion makes you want to cry out. “I won’t break. Promise.”

You decide to trust his word and tug a little harder. He moans and rewards you by pushing his tongue inside of you. He can only go so far with the fabric of your underwear restricting him but it’s enough to get you to whimper his name. 

-

God, you sound so pretty, it’s almost too much for Seonghwa to handle. You taste just as good as he’d always imagined, better even, and he’s losing all sense of control because of it. He can tell he’s making you feel good but this won’t be enough to get you to cum, at least, not as hard as he wants you to before he fucks you... if that’s where the night ends up going. He would be more than happy to have you cum on his tongue, kiss you goodnight, and then fall asleep beside you if that’s what you wanted.   

He manages to get your panties out of the way and to the side with his teeth before diving back in and sucking your clit into his mouth. You make a little surprised sound and melt into him even more. 

He wants to get his fingers inside of you too, but it would be difficult with the way the two of you are positioned so he pulls back and jerks his head in the direction of the bed. You help him to his feet and pull him in for a kiss, moaning at the way you taste on his lips. 

Seonghwa didn’t think it was possible for him to get any harder than he already is but you’re always going and proving him wrong. 

You release him after another moment and fall back onto the mattress, calling to him like a siren. You don’t actually say anything, but you don’t have to. The sight of you on the bed you’ll share with your legs spread and your thighs still glistening with your arousal and his saliva is all it’d take for Seonghwa to throw himself into the sea and drown in you. 

He takes off his slacks finally, just to give himself a bit of relief, and joins you on the bed as fast as humanly possible.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, running his fingers over the soaked patch of your underwear. 

“Please,” you laugh. 

You lift your hips so that he can pull them off of you and then he’s back in between your legs with your thighs clamped around his head so tightly he can’t hear anything aside from your desperate pleas for him not to stop. 

He doesn’t even realize he’s been grinding into the mattress until you’re cumming on his tongue and it takes everything in him to hold back from falling over the edge with you. 

“Hwa...” 

Your voice is so distant he doesn’t hear it until you repeat it. The nickname makes his heart do a little somersault. You’ve never called him that before. It makes him want to smile like an idiot and not fight so hard to suppress those pesky feelings he’s been harboring for you for God knows how long. He wants to kiss you all over and make love to you and give you a little house on his Animal Crossing island even though he’d have to rearrange the entire layout. He actually brought his switch with him, it’s in his bag and he could go get it right now and-

“Hwa!”

Fuck. Right. He pushes the aforementioned feelings down again, clears his throat, and plays it cool. “Hm? What’s up?” His voice cracks on the ‘up’ because of course it does. So much for playing it cool. 

“Can you fuck me, please?” 

He feels like he could fall through the floor. How the fuck could you sound so polite asking to get your back blown out like that? His dick twitches against his thigh and Seonghwa has to take a deep breath to steel himself before answering. 

“You sure you want to keep going? You want this?”

“God, yes,” you whine, leaning forward to try and pull him on top of you. “Are you going to make me beg for it?”

Tempting, but, “no, it’s just... I have to tell you something.”

Jesus, was he really doing this now? It felt like the worst possible moment to bring it up but he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he slept with you without coming clean. He’d already gone further than he probably should have, judgment clouded by lust and alcohol and the lingering scent of your perfume on your neck. 

You face falls, making Seonghwa realize he definitely should have worded it differently. 

“It’s not anything bad! I don’t think...”

“Just tell me,” you say flatly. 

“Um, remember in the car earlier today when we were going through our story, and you couldn’t remember what class I asked you out after?”

“And you yelled at me about it?”

“I didn’t yell at you-” he pauses, and squeezes his eyes shut. This was why he kept going back and forth over what he was about to say, why he was hesitating even now. “I reacted the way I did because... I actually was going to ask you out that night after your pharmacology class got out.”

“What?”

“I was there, waiting outside and I-I chickened out.”

You blink in disbelief. “You don’t... hate me?”

“Hate you? I never hated you!” You give him a look. “There was a bit of... animosity between us, but it was never hate! At least, not for me! Did you hate me?”

It’s your turn to feel exposed. That’s what Seonghwa thinks you feel anyway, from the look on your face. 

“No... I already told you I didn't! It was... what you described.”

Seonghwa narrows his eyes at you. “I don’t believe you.”

“I mean, like you said, it wasn’t hate. I just didn’t particularly like you. And I thought that was a mutual thing.”

“It was!” he agrees quickly. A little too quickly, maybe. “It was. For a while. And then it wasn’t. But I never said anything about it because I kept thinking it was just a phase I was going through. I thought I’d get over it and you’d never have to know.”

“But that never happened?” He shakes his head. “But you built up the courage to show up and ask me out that day. You had to have accepted it then.”

He sighs and rolls onto his back. “I guess I did, but like I said, I was a coward. When I peeked through the window on the door, I saw you laughing and joking around with your friends and I just thought about how it’s never been like that with us. And I thought it’d never work out because we’re... us. We bicker all of the time. We’re always competing. That didn’t magically go away when I realized I had feelings for you. So I thought you deserved someone who you’d actually get along with.” 

“Well, that should have been up to me to decide,” you say. 

“I know,” Seonghwa admits with a groan. Then, he bolts upright. “Wait, would you have said yes?”

“Probably.”

“What do you mean probably?”

“I mean, I would’ve liked to see where it went. I’ve always thought you were attractive.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s one of the things about you that annoyed me.” Seonghwa scoffs. “Just being honest.”

“Well, if I’m being honest,” he counters, propping himself up on his elbow. “I kind of like it when we bicker.”

“Don’t tell me it turns you on.”

“Only sometimes.”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re sick.”

He shrugs. “It’s only because you’re so hot when you’re mad at me.”

“You must be really horny right now, then,” you mutter. 

“You’re mad at me?” 

“Yes, I’m mad at you! You’ve been keeping your little crush on me a secret all this time! And you chose now to tell me?”

“I know, I’m sorry. I have the worst timing.”

“Understatement of the year.”

Seonghwa figures he deserves that one so he lets it slide even though it chips at his pride. “Wait, so... what does that make us? If we feel the same way, shouldn’t we give it a real shot?”

You groan, putting your hands over your face. “Can we talk about it after you fuck me stupid? I’m still so wet I can’t think about anything else.”

“Oh yeah, right.” He sits up and rolls back on top of you, caging you in. He presses his thigh between your legs so that you can grind on it as he kisses you again. “Are you sure arguing with me doesn’t make you horny?” he teases. “Can feel you throbbing against me, baby.”

“I’m horny because you’re hot and your dick is hard.” 

And because you like him, Seonghwa thinks giddily. 

“We can talk about it later, then,” he surrenders, reaching down to pump himself a few times. “As long as you’ll say you’re mine.”

You tilt your head to the side as you process his request. “Yours?”

“Mine.”

“You want me to be yours?”

“If that’s something you want.”

“It is something I want.”

“Then say it.”

“I’m yours.”

“Fuck,” Seonghwa hisses, grinding against you. He’s not even inside of you yet and he feels like he could explode.

“Please, Hwa,” you whisper and reach down to line him up yourself.

“Wait fuck, I don’t have a condom.”

“I have an IUD. It’s okay,” you assure him.

“Are you sure?”

“As long as you’re clean.”

“I am, I haven’t been with anyone since last year, and I’ve been tested.”

“Me too.”

“Then we’re good?” he asks. 

“We’re good.”

“Perfect. Deep breath, baby.”

Seonghwa’s arms threaten to give out the instant he begins to push himself inside of you. He should have been the one to take a deep breath. He already knows how you taste so he really should have been more prepared for how good you would feel but then again Seonghwa had always been a bit Icarian in nature so his overly ambitious attitude is pretty par for the course in light of everything. 

“Hold on, just... just give me a second,” he stutters.

He swears you clench around him purposefully, playing it off with a meek “sorry, it was an accident” when he glares at you. He wouldn’t put it past you to turn this into a competition too, but he wants to remember your first time together as something special. He wants to be in the moment with you, wants to make you cum over and over and over on his cock until you can’t say anything but his name. He wants to make tonight all about you. He wants to make every night about you, but he’ll have to start with tonight. 

“Are you okay?” you ask him, voice so sweet he almost has to pull out so he doesn’t end what’s barely started. 

“You feel too good,” he admits, dropping his head into the crook of your shoulder. 

“If you cum now, we can just go again, right?”

Right. He forgot about that. He needs to stop thinking with his dick. 

“Yeah, right. Right.”

“Fucked out already?” you tease, brushing his hair out of his eyes. 

“It’s you,” he pants weakly. “How can I not be?”

You open your mouth, probably about to say something smart in reply but he rolls his hips just as you do, pushing himself deeper inside of you. The words seem to dissolve on your tongue, your mouth falling open in a moan instead.

“What was that, baby?” he asks, moving even faster now.

You answer in mumbled nonsense. Seonghwa smirks down at you and leans forward to kiss the point where your neck meets your collarbone. He thinks about what a hickey would look like there, what kind of attention it would draw from everyone tomorrow morning. 

He can’t dwell on it for too long, though, because you’re yanking him back up by his hair, warning him that you’re about to cum.

“Already?”

“It’s you,” you repeat his own words back to him, and he feels his own stomach tense up in anticipation. “You and your perfect dick.”

Okay, so, less romantic than his sentiment but the structure was still there. It made him feel warm inside nonetheless. 

“Can I cum, please? Please?”

“Do you think you can be quiet? We don’t want a noise complaint, remember?” 

“I c-can be quiet.”

You’re lying through your teeth and Seonghwa can tell, he’s known you for so long now that he;’s memorized all of your tells. But he’s right there on the edge too and he wants nothing more than to cum with you.

“I’m close too, baby. Shit, can I cum inside you? Please?”

“God, yes- please, give it to me...”

He kisses you as he cums, managing to swallow some of your moans and cries of his name as you cum even harder than you did the first time. He’s sensitive by the time you finally come down from it but he doesn’t pull out. 

“Can we lay like this for a second?”

You nod easily, letting out a soft laugh when Seonghwa drops his weight on top of you. “I don’t think I can move anyway.”

“Not with that attitude, you can’t.”

“Oh my god, get off of me.”

“Sorry, what was that? Couldn’t hear you.”

“You’re the worst!”

“The worst at what?”

“Everything!”

“You didn’t seem to think that a few minutes ago,” he points out. 

“I’m having post-nut clarity,” you mumble, pushing weakly at his shoulders. 

“I didn’t know that happened to girls,” he muses. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about women,” you snap, still struggling underneath him. “Maybe if you talked to one once and a while you’d be more knowledgeable on the subject.” 

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

“That’s because I- are you getting hard again?” you ask in disbelief. 

“I told you that bickering with you turns me on!”

“You are unbelievable!”

Seonghwa kisses you and rolls his hips experimentally. You moan, relaxing under him immediately. 

“Fuck, that feels good,” you sigh against his lips. 

“Yeah, we’re definitely going to be late to brunch tomorrow.”

happy birthday emily!! i'm so lucky to call you my bestie and i hope you enjoyed your very late present :)

Daily texts with Boyfriend!Jongho