Back-again With This Gem . Chenles A Loveable Lil-shit

✨ back-again with this gem ✨. chenle’s a loveable lil-shit 😂

field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” 

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan. 

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•part 3 : the finale ~

The Best Friends Code Final Part - Reader x Hongjoong, Seonghwa (NSFW)

This an Ateez fic.

PART ONE HERE. PART TWO HERE.

Summary: A week after the party, you can’t get what happened out of your mind. Luckily, it appears neither can Hongjoong or Seonghwa.

Genre and warnings: smut. fem pronouns for reader. reader is called “pet”. threesome. oral sex. dirty talk. unprotected sex (seriously don’t do something like this without protection lol.) creampie. hints of a poly relationship forming. (as always lemme know if i missed something.)

Word count: 3,081.

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa or hongjoong in any way, shape or form.

               The words on your computer screen seem to dart and dance in front of your eyes. You swear you have read this work e-mail about forty times and are no closer to understanding it. Groaning, you shut your laptop screen, wishing you could stop your brain from running in circles.

               Try as you might, you couldn’t stop thinking about last weekend.

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the sweetest full-circle moment! 😭💖💖💖

𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

boo seungkwan x gn!reader

1.3k words, established relationship au, childhood friends 2 lovers, proposal au, fluff, super soft

a/n: for the love of our beloved boo 💖 im still obsessed w this photo of him

Boo Seungkwan asked you to marry him beneath the shade of an orange tree.

The two of you had only been about ten years old, but back then, ten years old was everything. You were two peas in a pod, forever and always. He had been pushing you on the tire swing attached to one of the sturdier, low-hanging branches, as he always did. You kicked your legs up, a grin splitting your face.

"Why are only older people allowed to get married?" he asked later that day, as the sun set across the pasture. It was one of those days where the sun's sinking broiled across the sky in vibrant rivers of orange and yellow, before bruising into deep shades of purple. You had your backs against the trunk of the orange tree, your knees pressed to your chest, and Seungkwan's hand just touching yours on the damp earth.

You gave a small shrug. "Dunno. Why do you ask?"

From the other side of his body, he raised his hand and showed you a coil of flower stems, intertwined into a miniature ring. He held it in between two pinched fingers, floating in the space between your bodies. "Wanna get married?"

Around fifteen years later, Seungkwan pulled his car up the long, winding dirt road up to the orange grove. You sat in the passenger seat, your chin settled on your arms over the open window as you gazed out at the pasture that had filled your childhood with joyous memories. In the distance, you could already make out the largest, oldest orange tree at the far end of the field, its branches plump with globes of ripe orange fruit. And, of course, the old tire swing still hung from one of its arms, drifting gently in the cool breeze.

Seungkwan parked the car where the road ended. He had been planning this picnic for a long time coming; you and he hadn't been back to this place for years now, having been occupied with your own constantly moving adult lives. And yet, he had managed to keep ahold of you—thank god, he had.

As he killed the engine to his car, he smoothed down the white button up he wore. Outwardly, his movements were natural—inwardly, the box in his pocket seemed to burn right through his skin.

"It'll be golden hour soon," he said to you softly, a smile gracing his face as he watched the strands of your hair dance across your forehead as you gazed out. He knew you felt it, too—the nostalgia. That creeping, sweeping sensation trekking down his nerves until he felt warm and fuzzy. Or maybe his chest hurt from youth long gone. But there was no time like the present to remedy that.

You lifted yourself from the window, that wistful expression still etched into your face. You met his eyes, and he nearly melted. He would never not be enamored by your every movement, your every stare. "Well, we better get going then, love."

Blanket, picnic basket—all the necessary items were withdrawn from the trunk. While you held the folded square blanket under your arm and Seungkwan with the basket, the two of you ventured into the green-gold sea of grass toward the edges of the orange grove, entwined hands swinging between your bodies.

"Wow, it's beautiful here," you said, voice barely audible. You'd hate to disturb the pure tranquility in the air.

Seungkwan gave a nod, allowing himself to get sucked into the landscape. He tilted his head back, inhaling deeply. "It is. Isn't that the rock you tripped over when we were, like, seven?" He chuckled, pointing to a rock fixture to the side of the path.

You made a face at the rock as you passed, then bumped his shoulder with yours. "Hey! I had banged-up knees for weeks!"

"Aish, what're you complaining about when I pushed you everywhere in that wheelchair?" He made a feigned noise of disappointment while shaking his head.

That made you smile. "You refused to let me use Chan's crutches."

"He probably broke them," he rolled his eyes. "I wasn't about to let you hurt yourself more from wrecked crutches."

"I'm telling Chan you said that."

"I dare you," he quipped, nose flicking up into the air. "I'm not afraid of him."

You giggled, and the sound made his heart pitter-patter like he was a teenager in love again. Then again, he wasn't so far off from then. It was strange how after all this time of being in love with you, he hadn't gotten used to the feeling. Everyday, you gave his heart a warm thrill. You were a reminder of how beautiful it was to be alive and by your side.

When you reached the foot of the orange tree, you and Seungkwan swiftly laid out the blanket, then set everything atop it. Before digging into anything, however, you walked over to the tire swing and tested the integrity of the rope, the rubber. You swept the tire seat clean from cobwebs and dirt and dust, delicately lowering yourself onto the inner ring.

Seungkwan didn't even need to be asked.

He came up behind you and grabbed either side of the tire, pulling it back a little, then letting it fly down the slight incline. "Wow, I didn't think it'd actually still hold."

"Woooo!" You cheered as you swung in the setting sun.

Seungkwan had definitely been right earlier—golden hour had approached swiftly.

He fidgeted as he continued to gently push the swing into motion for you. He had a plan—of course, he had a plan.

And when the two of you sat atop the blanket a handful of minutes later, your knees were pressed to your chest and Seungkwan's hand lingered close to yours.

He swallowed the thundering of his heart, his eyes set on the burning sunset in the distance as if even the sky were telling him that it was now or never. "Remember when I asked you that one time why only older people get married, or something like that?"

You passed him a curious, sideways smile. "Yeah. I still don't know the answer."

"Well—" he stammered, the hand on his other side struggling to dig the box out of his pocket as subtly as possible, "—do you think we're old enough yet?"

"Old enough? To get married?" You and Seungkwan had had lots of discussions about marriage before, but never had he brought up this one instance again. "I mean… I think we are. I think we're old enough to have experienced enough of life ourselves to determine when we're ready to share it with another."

Seungkwan closed his eyes as a small laugh fell from his lips. "Why are you so good at articulating these things, hm?"

You beamed, leaning forward onto your knees to peer at him with your cheek pressed to your kneecaps. "Maybe I've thought about it a lot."

Yours and his eyes met then, as the sun gave its final send off.

Seungkwan internally cheered as his fingers caught onto the ring from the pried-open jaws of the ring box.

He cleared his throat; why was it getting congested? Why now why now why now? "Then Yn Ln—" he forced stability into his voice, then presented the ring, held it between you two, "—will you marry me?"

Your breath caught in your throat. The ring—white gold band, diamond center and surrounded in petals of clear-cut stone like a blooming flower—glistened in the fading daylight. You exhaled your answer, inhaled it, breathed it out again: "Yes. Yes. Yes!"

And as Seungkwan fumbled to slide the ring onto your finger with shaky hands; as you clung onto him until he fell back onto the blanket; as the sky dimmed to periwinkle evening; you and Seungkwan were reminded of a beautiful life beneath the shade of an orange tree.

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The hopeless romantic in me is crying😭

𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬

agent!yoon jeonghan x agent!gn!reader

0.7k words; when a mission goes wrong, jeonghan tries to distract himself you by talking about a wedding; mentions of blood/a knife wound/poison, cursing

Yoon Jeonghan thought he was going to throw up, cry, or both; and he wasn't even the one dying. 

"This was not what I thought when I wanted to carry you over the threshold," he mused nervously, angling your body so as to not hit the door frame as he carried you into the safe house. There was a team of paramedics already awaiting your arrival, setting up a clean space to work as well as their medical equipment.

In his arms, your limbs were limp and perspiration dribbled down the sides of your face. You had one hand pressed firmly to your side, preventing even more blood from seeping out of your body—your life force slowly drifting. You managed a weak smile up at Jeonghan's carefully calm face. "You wanted—to get married?" You panted, wincing as you added additional pressure to the wound. 

It had been a mission gone wrong, and in an effort to save Jeonghan, you had stepped in the arc of a poisoned blade. Jeonghan had seen you crumple before him, then his vision had gone red with absolute rage. Now? He was panicking. Yoon Jeonghan did not panic. 

"To you? Fuck yes." He couldn't believe he was talking about this while you were dying in his arms. "Hurry! They're dying for fuck's sake!" He barked at the present medical staff. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, and his eyes darted frantically between the staff and your face. 

"Stay with me, dove," he murmured to you when he saw your eyelids drooping. His vision was blurring slightly, tears pooling in his eyes.

You sucked in a breath and tried to focus on his face, and not the vice-like grip the poison had on your heart. "Well, what's it like? Our wedding?"

Jeonghan gulped. His eyes closed briefly, trying to remain calm enough to tell you what he had envisioned for nights while the two of you were undercover together. "You'd look perfect, as always. This extravagant garment, bouquet of callas and just… pearls."

"Pearls?" You hummed, trying to imagine it yourself. 

He smiled down at you, nodding. Anyone could see the love that shined so deeply in his eyes whenever he looked at you. "Mhm. I was thinking of a pearl engagement ring with diamonds around it. What do you think?"

"Huh," you coughed, groaning when you irritated the wound further. You reigned it all in though when seeing worry flash over his features. "Not—bad. What else?"

Jeonghan's eyes flickered back to the medical staff, who motioned for him to set you down on the bed. He did so, carefully, but swiftly. Finally. One of them murmured for him to continue to distract you and keep you awake for them. He could do that. He could definitely do that.

He knelt down beside your head, so you would face away from the doctors working on your injury. There was… so much blood. Jeonghan swallowed. "It'd be a small thing," he told you, "nothing big. Our families, friends from the academy, that sort of thing. We'd have a live orchestra during the ceremony and a band for the reception."

Hand smoothing over the dampened hair against your forehead, Jeonghan hoped you couldn't feel him shaking. "I was thinking a pagoda over a beach cliff. Something stupidly romantic like that."

"That is stupidly romantic," you rasped, agreeing. You bit your lip, feeling something sting sharply at your injury and twist. 

Jeonghan grabbed your hand and let you squeeze as hard as you needed. "I thought so. And we'd have handwritten vows, of course. Cheol would probably be your Man of Honor."

"You're not wrong." You would have joked about calling him your Maid of Honor instead if you had the strength. 

"And when you walked down the aisle—fuck, I'd probably cry." A tear slipped down the slope of his cheek and you wished you could lift yourself up and kiss it away. 

"Hannie?" Your voice was tight from trying to keep the pain in. Whatever the hell those doctors were doing, you could definitely feel it. 

He nodded, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. "Mhm?"

"Can we get married after this?"

Jeonghan smiled, genuinely this time, and you saw the light return to his eyes if only for a split second. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. "God yes—I never thought you'd ask."

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The couples bickering mid sesh, is such a refreshing twist to read 😂

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 :)

eric would be the epitome of “comfort and support” as a partner 😩💖😭

insignificance

pairing . eric x gn! reader about . 2k words, fluff (suggestive) warnings . 16+ cause there is heavy making out at the end, drinking wine, mentions of murder but it's all jokes!!

synopsis . it takes one dinner and a late-night drive for you to fall in love with your fiancé all over again. note . the inspo for this fic was @sohnric's plot twist make-out scene (and this pic) i hope i did it justice 💗 i wrote this on a whim and am posting this at 1am so please excuse me for this monstrosity 😭 tysm @juyeonszn and @mars101 for cheering me on YUPP tagging . @stealanity @invuwrld @gfksn (+ bar)

The background noise of the waiters shuffling around fades away as your two glasses clink together. Vivaldi’s Spring is playing in the background, a piece you’ve only heard once in a blue moon at an orchestra concert. Eric seems to have experienced differently, though, judging by the taps of his dress-shoe-covered foot beneath the table and the twinkle in his eyes.

“Cheers,” you whisper, giddy with excitement.

“Cheers, baby,” Eric whispers back, the corners of his mouth lifting in a grin.

The wine in your glass swishes as you take a tentative sip. It’s sweet and fruity, and you’ve already forgotten the name Eric rattled off to the waiter as if expensive drinks were second nature to him. They probably were second nature to the Sohn family, considering the elegance of this fancy restaurant, the outfit he bought that now adorns you, and the sparkling ring that sits on your finger.

You set the glass down next to you, already a little overwhelmed with the elegance of this atmosphere. You knew you married rich, but it never particularly occurred to you just how rich your fiancé is. In fact, you feel a little out of place sitting in a chair that costs half of your monthly paycheck and staring at a menu that you once never would’ve been able to. Despite already being engaged to the love of your life, you’re not sure you’ll ever find a way to fit into the intricate setting that the Sohns have grown up in.

“What’s wrong?” Eric asks, seeing the glimmer in your eyes dissipate with your overthinking.

He reaches across the table to take your hands in his, running his thumb over your ring. He traces the lines of it, following the swirl pattern as if he were seeing it for the first time. As if he didn’t spend hours agonizing over what design to gift you, so sure that you would reject him if it wasn’t up to your liking.

(You would’ve said yes even if he proposed to you with a lollipop.)

“I feel like I don’t belong here,” you admit, your head hanging low as the embarrassment clouds your features.

He intertwines his fingers with yours, lacing them tightly. Eric is all too knowing of the nagging thoughts in your brain, telling you you’re undeserving of the man in front of you and the wealth that comes along with it. However, you’ve hit the jackpot in the fact that Eric is always ready to argue back with the devil on your shoulder, even if it’s three in the morning and you’re delirious from sleep or if you’re a little bit too tipsy and crying in his lap. Eric, for lack of better words, is always there for you. Even now, as he holds your hands and stares into your eyes as if you’re the only person in the universe, he is here for you.

“I’m going to eat that little voice in your head so it goes away,” he responds a moment later with finality, extremely serious.

The statement is so absurd and unexpected that it has you giggling, and you grip Eric’s fingers tighter as you lean forward and can’t find it in you to stop. All your previous tension disappears when you look into Eric’s eyes, filled with mirth and kindness.

“You’re crazy,” you voice through laughter, reaching for the wine glass to calm your jumbling nerves.

Eric just shakes his head, unable to hold back a smile that reflects your current predicament.

“Crazy for you, babe. Now stop worrying your pretty little head and enjoy your food, okay?”

And enjoy the food you do. The three-course meal followed by dessert has you clutching your stomach after, full and bloated from the amount of delicious food you’ve consumed. You can’t even bring yourself to take a couple more bites of the black forest delicacy that sits on your plate, but luckily, you have the universe to thank for the takeout box that now rests in Eric’s left hand.

His other hand holds the car keys, and as he clicks the unlock button, the Orange Corvette lights up from across the parking garage. Its bright color is exactly reminiscent of the man standing next to you, exuberant and dashing. You felt like a little kid the first time he picked you up in his car, extremely impressed with the interior neon lights he showed off to you in the earlier stages of your relationship. Now, as his fiancé, the car is something comfortable to you, having seen it too many times to count by this point. 

He helps you into the front seat before getting in beside you, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the back of your headrest as he backs the car out. You’ll never admit this to him, but the view of him looking back and inching the car out is devilishly handsome to you, and you have to fight the warmth that rises to your cheeks.

Once he repositions the vehicle and drives forward, the hand that’s behind you now moves to your thigh. The shiny watch on his wrist glints in the moonlight, and he absentmindedly draws circles on your clothed skin to the beat of the song. It doesn’t help that it’s an R&B track, so every movement of his finger is slow and torturous, and every trace ignites fire against the cloth. 

“Eric,” you start, watching as he pulls to a stop before the red light.

“Hm?” he responds, turning his head to face you.

You notice that he’s wearing a singular stud earring on his right ear. You can only pray that you’ll find some strength to survive the rest of this car ride because as soon as it’s over, you won’t let him see the light of day.

“How much longer?” you ask tentatively, like a little kid squirming in their seat.

He rolls his eyes, turning back to focus on the road. It doesn’t help though, because his side profile is just as alluring as his front.

“Couple more minutes, baby.”

True to his word, he exits the main road a few minutes later, driving up a dirt path unfamiliar to you. The road is slightly bumpy, and you’re a little tipsy from the wine so you shift around quite frequently, but Eric’s unwavering, strong grip on your thigh keeps you grounded. The more you stare at his hand, the more sexy you find his hand pressed against the silk you’re wearing.

You’re reconsidering your decision to spend the rest of your life with this ridiculously hot man when he pulls into a forest clearing.

“Are you going to murder me, Eric Sohn?” you tease as he parks the car, swiftly maneuvering the wheel.

You move to step out once he’s done, but he’s faster than you, and he opens the car door before you can even reach for the handle.

“If I wanted to murder you,” he says, holding your arm as you step out, “I would’ve already done so, my love.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you have little to be annoyed about as you survey your surroundings. The dark forest around you is a contrast to the vividness of the car, but nothing seems brighter than Eric’s smile at the moment and the twinkling stars around you.

Eric leads you to a clearing, his hand pressed against the small of your back. You peer over, fascinated at the realization that you can see the whole city from here. The twinkling lights of the bustling city below you are something of a dream, and as you look towards Eric, you can see the stars reflected in his eyes.

Minutes like these, where you’re not surrounded by extravagance, are when you truly feel your connection with Eric. Raw, unearthed, and simply pure, you feel like you’re stripped of all labels. You both are just insignificant specks in the universe, and he is truly just some guy to you in this moment, but you know wholeheartedly that this very guy is the one you truly love. You would never have it any other way.

The grin on Eric’s face is infectious as you face him with one of your own. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, clasping them together as his arms find their way around your waist. 

“Found this place the other day,” he explains as if he could hear your thoughts, “I kinda regret not proposing to you here.”

“Don’t lie,” you mutter, knowing that he definitely does not regret whisking you away to his private condo in the mountains just to put a ring on your finger.

He laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. The cicadas chirp around you, and all is silent when he calms down except for your two breaths in unison. His gaze circulates from your eyes to your lips and then back to your eyes, and whatever triangle method he’s using is working because one second later, you lean in to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

He tastes like strawberries, and you smile against his lips remembering that you’d gifted him strawberry lip balm two days ago. Your man, your sexy, diligent man, following your orders to take care of his lips stirs butterflies in your stomach. The fact that you hold some kind of power over the Sohn family’s heir makes you feel a little dizzy, but your only response is to pull Eric closer and kiss him harder.

The sweetness of both the strawberry scent and the kiss fade as he presses back with just as fervor, adjusting his arms around you to pull you in tighter. The space between you feels unbearable, and despite the proximity between you two, the gap is still too big for your liking. You need him viscerally, every part of him on you as if the very concept of distance is poisonous and Eric is your antidote.

“Baby,” he whispers, pulling back with shallow breaths, “the car.”

You end up in the front seat of his car, the seat tilted backward and you in Eric’s lap. One of his knees holds you in place against your back, and his hands rest on your waist. The position is far too intimate that anyone walking by will know exactly what’s going on. Your kisses have turned heady, mirroring the darkness in his eyes and the way you clutch onto the front of his black shirt. You work on unbuttoning his shirt, but Eric distracts you with his tongue swiping across your lips and the way he softly bites when you protest. By some miracle, you finish moments later, and you run your hands down his skin. He shivers, and everything feels like pure electricity between you two the way his fingers press into your sides tighter. 

(It will bruise tomorrow, but you don’t care. You’ll simply shrug on a shirt and try to fight a blush as Eric stares at you from the bed shirtless, a knowing grin on his face.)

His kisses trail down your lips, your cheeks, and your neck, finally finding a home in your collarbone, biting and sucking as if it was his favorite pastime. It probably is, with the way he kisses down your shoulder and tugs the strap of clothing down.

Your fingers trace his collarbone, and you hold his head in your hands as he looks up at you. He’s needy and restless, but he’ll always listen to you when you have something to say.

You may be an insignificant speck in the world, but in Eric’s eyes, you’re the whole universe.

“I love you,” you whisper.

It’s all you have to say before he flips you around, pressing you into the dip of the seat as he slides your clothing down. The air conditioning of the car and the ambient music bring goosebumps to your now exposed skin, but Eric makes everything disappear by resuming his previous ministrations.

He looks into your eyes before pressing a kiss right above your heart. It beats against your chest, heavy, and Eric knows it’s only for him. It will always be only for him.

“I love you too,” he whispers back, smiling against your skin.

“Forever and always.”