Summertime Sadness

“I love them,” you grin, rotating your wrists so the light catches every glossy detail. “And thank you, again. You really didn’t have to, you know. You already spoiled me so much for Christmas.”

Seungcheol reaches over, fingers brushing your knuckles, casual but unmistakably pleased. “Mm… but I wanted to.”

He doesn’t say anything else, but the way his thumb lingers gives him away.

He then reaches over, tugs your seatbelt into place for you like it’s second nature. Princess treatment like always, no questions asked.

As he pulls away from the curb, you’re already snapping pictures—too many at this point. You move your hands, adjust the lighting, hold your hands dramatically like they deserve their own spotlight.

“You’re gonna run out of storage,” he comments, amused as ever. He glances over at you before returning his attention to the road.

The rest of the drive passes comfortably, filled with your quiet excitement and the soft hum of the car.

By the time you get home, you’re still buzzing. Shoes are kicked off, coats discarded, and the two of you are finally able to settle onto the couch.

You curl in beside him, still turning your hands this way and that, admiring them like you haven’t already spent the entire drive doing exactly that. Seungcheol watches for a moment, expression unreadable, before reaching out.

He takes your hand—pulling it close to his face again. He turns your wrist slowly, inspecting your new set like it’s fine art.

His thumb drags over the edge of your nail, slow enough to make your stomach flutter. He’s enjoying this far too much.

“I like being able to spoil you,” he continues. “And I like when you look like this. All happy and cute.”

You take that as an invitation.

Another beat passes before you lean closer, hands resting against his firm chest. “So… you admit it.”

He arches a brow. “Admit what?”

“That you have a thing for my hands.”

He scoffs but doesn’t deny it. Instead, his mouth curves into a knowing smile, already used to your antics. “I have a thing for you. Your hands just happen to be part of the package.”

You hum, pleased, letting your hands trail down his shirt—nails grazing deliberately, just enough to test him. “How convenient.”

He catches your wrist gently. “You’re poking.”

“But, you like when I poke,” you reply sweetly, shifting closer to him, your knee brushing his thigh. Your other hand settles there, casual but intentional.

He exhales through his nose, amused.

He watches you for a second longer than necessary. “You done?”

You glance down at your hands like you’re considering it seriously. Then you look up at him, lips curving up slow and sweet.

“Maybe for now,” you say. “I don’t think I got enough pictures though.”

He snorts. “Didn’t you already take like fifty?”

“It’s not enough,” you groan. “I need different settings, different moods!”

You shift even closer, deliberately resting your hands on his thigh this time. Your nails catch just enough to make his attention sharpen, his posture subtly changing beneath you.

“I was thinking,” you add, voice light, “they might look even better if they were… occupied.”

His eyes lift from your hands to your face. “Occupied with what exactly?”

You blink at him, all innocent. “I don’t know. Holding something, maybe? Something you seem very attached to.”

There’s a beat. Then he laughs—low, disbelieving. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Am I?” You tilt your head. “You already paid for the nails. It feels wasteful not to use them properly.”

He studies you for a moment, then shakes his head with a quiet laugh.

You smile, already standing and reaching for his hand. “Come on.”

“And just where are we going?” he asks, even as he lets you pull him up.

As if he doesn’t know the answer to that question…

You tug him toward the hallway, excitement barely contained. “Somewhere with better lighting.”

The bedroom door clicks shut behind you, soft and final.

You go straight to the drawer, no hesitation.

Seungcheol sits on the edge of your shared bed, watching you the entire time. His posture is relaxed, arms folding loosely as he watches you pull the camera out, handling it with care like it’s something precious. Because to him, it is.

You turn around and hold it out to him.

He takes it from you without a word, fingers brushing yours for just a second longer than necessary. The look he gives you is sharp, entertained—like he already knows how everything is going to turn out.

He turns the camera on, lifting it easily, gaze meeting yours through the viewfinder.

“You ready?” he asks.

You nod, already stepping closer towards him. You slowly drop to your knees as the camera follows your every move. Your nails skim over the buckle of his belt, slow and intentional, just to feel the way his patience falters.

“You like when I do this,” you murmur.

He scoffs softly.

You unbuckle his belt, unhurried, eyes never leaving his. The sound is quiet but unmistakable. Familiar. Your hands dip lower, grazing the zipper of his jeans.

Seungcheol exhales, head tipping back a fraction. One hand comes to your wrist—not to stop you, just to steady you. Guide you if anything.

“Camera,” he reminds you, voice low.

You smile, sweet and satisfied, and glance at it once before looking back at him. “Right. I wouldn't want to forget.”

He raises it, already lining the shot up the way he likes, eyes flicking between the viewfinder and you.

Slipping your hands into his boxers, you gradually slip his leaky cock out of its confines. He was already hard from your touch. How pretty.

You wrap your hand around the base—your grip small, nails neat and delicate where they have no business being.

“That’s it,” he groans out. “Hold it… right there.”

Click.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said casually, hiding the way his heart sped up just saying your name again.

The two of you talked a little. You laughed a little too freely, the alcohol warming your skin. And Seungcheol found himself standing a little closer than usual.

You told him about the breakup. The cheating. The healing. “I’ve been single for almost a year,” you confessed. “First time I’ve felt like myself in a long while.”

He didn’t say much, just nodded. But he felt something stir inside him. He had watched you from afar back then—never thinking he stood a chance. You were someone else’s girl. But now?

Now you weren’t.

Later that night, when your friends noticed you were too tipsy to go home alone, they turned to Seungcheol. “You live nearby, right? Can you make sure she gets home safe?”

He nodded without hesitation.

The car ride was filled with soft humming from the radio and your occasional mumbling. Your head rested lightly against the window. Seungcheol tried not to glance at you too much, but failed miserably.

At your doorstep, you almost tripped over the step. Reflexes kicked in—he reached out, catching your by the waist. Your bodies collided softly.

Your hand gripped his jacket.

Seungcheol froze when your eyes met.

You blinked up at him, dazed. And then your eyes scanned his face, lingering on his lips.

“Your eye lashes are so long… so beautiful…” you said, your voice low and breathy.

His throat went dry. “I… I- T-thank you… your eyes are really beautiful too” he murmured. Too quietly.

Your hand slid up to his chest. “Stay,” you whispered.

And then you kissed him.

Your lips were soft, hesitant at first. But as Seungcheol recovered from the shock, he melted into you. His hand cupped the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. You tasted like wine and want. And it was the kind of kiss that made him forget everything else.

You unlocked the door behind you without breaking contact, tugging him inside.

Clothes fell away slowly as you made your way to the bedroom, like a silent agreement. Your shirt slipped over your head. His fingers skimmed along your waist, his lips following suit—trailing kisses along your collarbone, your neck, your jaw.

You gasped softly when he pushes you gently onto the bed, settling between your thighs. “Are you sure?” he asked, voice husky, but tender. “We can stop this if you are not comfortable.”

You nodded, pulling him down again, whispering, “I want this.”

Your bodies fit together like you had done this a thousand times. His hands were everywhere—exploring, caressing. He worshipped you with every touch, every kiss, every slow movement. You moaned his name like it meant something. And maybe it did. He hope it did.

You were warm and soft beneath him, your breath stuttering with every thrust of his hips. He moved slowly at first, savouring the feel of you wrapped around him. You arched into him, nails digging into his shoulders, whispering his name like a secret.

“Seungcheol…”

God, you felt good. Like something he never thought he’d be allowed to touch.

He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes fluttering shut as his rhythm built, pleasure curled tighter in his core. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper.

You were everything.

Beneath him, around him, pulling him deeper with every desperate gasp of his name.

Seungcheol gritted his teeth as he drove into you again, harder this time — not rough, but deep and purposeful. Every thrust pulled a moan from you, your legs locked tightly around his waist like you never wanted him to leave. Your walls clenched around him so tightly he could barely breathe.

“Y/N…” he moaned, the sound ripped from his chest like a confession.

Your body arched into him, and he nearly lost it. The way you took him in, the way you trembled for him, the way you looked up at him with need in your eyes — it shattered him.

He couldn’t slow down anymore. He didn’t want to.

His hips pounded into yours, again and again, his grip on your hips tightening as he rutted deeper, the slap of skin against skin echoing in the room. But even through the desperation, his hands were still gentle — as if he was afraid of hurting you, of losing you too quickly.

“You feel so good,” he gasped, eyes locked on your face. “So fucking good…”

Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan, eyes fluttering shut. You were close. He could feel it — the way your body tightened around him, how your fingers clutched at his shoulders like lifelines.

“Come for me,” he whispered harshly, forehead pressed to yours, hips thrusting harder, deeper. “Let me feel you.”

Your moan broke into a cry as your body clenched violently around him, heat pulsing through your core. You shattered beneath him, writhing, shaking, chanting his name like a prayer through your release.

And Seungcheol—god, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

The feeling of you pulsing around his cock, the sound of you moaning his name, the thought that this was real — it all crashed over him. With a strangled groan, he buried himself deep inside you and spilled everything he’d been holding in for years.

Every unspoken word. Every lingering look. Every what-if.

He collapsed over you, still trembling, bodies tangled, sweat-drenched and flushed. His face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

He didn’t say it aloud — not yet.

But the way he kissed you afterwards, the way he wrapped his arms around you like you were the only thing keeping him alive.

You would know.

He wasn’t just in this for the pleasure.

He was already in far too deep.

You laid in silence for a moment, bodies tangled, skin slick with sweat.

As the sex afterglow fades, your mind felt clearer. You turned your head to look at him. “Was that a mistake?”

He blinked at the ceiling. “Do you want it to be?”

“No,” you whispered. “I don’t.”

And that’s how it started.

No labels. No promises.

Just warmth when the nights were cold, lips when the world got too quiet, and arms to fall into when loneliness struck too hard.

But what you didn’t know—what Seungcheol still couldn’t say—was that for him, you had never been just a friend.

And maybe… one day, you wouldn’t be just a benefit either.

𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊ 𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊ 𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊

It was supposed to be just like every other night.

You called Seungcheol over, your voice tired and frustrated. “I just need to blow off steam,” you’d said, but your tone wasn’t flirtatious—it was exhaustion. Seungcheol could tell. He showed up anyway, arms full with your favourite makgeolli and snacks he picked up without needing to ask.

You sat on the couch together knees brushing, the TV playing something neither of you paid attention to. You ranted—about work, about clients, about your mother pestering you to attend blind dates with men who “checked all the boxes.” Your voice cracked slightly when you said it, and Seungcheol quietly reached out, refilling your empty glass without a word.

You leaned into him slowly, like the weight of the world finally pulled you down. Your head settled on his shoulder, and just sat like that, your complaints eventually turning into soft sighs. Seungcheol said nothing, just listened—like he always did. Always quiet, always steady, always there.

And then… you fell asleep.

It was subtle. Your breathing evened out, and your hand that had been gripping the hem of his shirt relaxed against his leg. Seungcheol looked down at you—lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, lips slightly parted—and something deep inside him twisted.

You looked so soft. So human. And he was so used to seeing you strong.

His arm around you tightened just slightly, pulling you in. Without thinking, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, whispering so quietly he almost hoped you didn’t hear it.

“Rest, Y/N.”

But you did hear it before drifting into dreamland, too tired to make any response.

The morning glow seeps through the blackout curtains, you stirred awake and as your mind clears, what happened before you fell asleep came back and you could still feel the sensation of his lips on your skin warm and disorienting.

Your eyes fluttered open, only to see Seungcheol still holding you in his arms, like you were something breakable.

And for a second… you didn’t want to move.

It was comforting. Dangerous. His warmth seeped into your bones, and for a moment you let yourself imagine what it would feel like to stay like this. To wake up next to him like this every morning.

But the realization hit too hard, too fast.

You had spent the night together, doing nothing but cuddling and everything family friendly. Things that FWBs with no strings attached would definitely not be doing.

And worst, you were falling for Seungcheol.

Seungcheol stirred awake as your chest tightened. You pulled away abruptly, pretending to yawn and stretch. “Shit—I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” you said, voice clipped.

Seungcheol smiled softly. “You looked like you needed it.”

You nodded, avoiding his eyes. “Thanks. You should go. It’s late and I need to be in the office early today.”

He hesitated, searching your face, but eventually stood. “Okay.”

You didn’t kiss him goodbye. You didn’t even walk him to the door.

And in the weeks that followed, Seungcheol noticed how you have changed.

You stopped texting first. Stopped asking how he was. You laughed less. You avoided his gaze after he touched you.

And it wrecked Seungcheol.

Because he knew something had shifted after that night.

He just didn’t know what he did wrong—or why, when you had finally let your walls down and leaned into him, you built them back up even higher.

But he also knew better than to push.

Because if he asked, if he pressed, he was afraid he might confess everything.

That he’d been in love with you since before you even knew his name.

𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊ 𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊ 𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊

You kept your phone on silent more than usual.

The unread messages from Seungcheol piled up quietly over the days. A “hey” here, a “you okay?” there. Then a couple of calls. Missed. Unreturned. The last one was a voice note—just his soft voice asking, “Did I do something wrong?”

You hadn’t even listened to the whole thing.

It wasn’t that you were mad at him. How could you be?

He had been perfect that night. The way he listened to your ramble, how he didn’t try to distract you with sex but let you rest. The kiss to your temple. The quiet warmth. The way he held you like you meant something to him. It was too much.

Because you had spent the last one year since the start of this relationship, convincing yourself what you both had was safe—comfort, lust, convenience. But that night… he felt like home.

And that scared the hell out of you.

If you let yourself fall, really fall, what if you lost him? What if it stopped being simple and started to hurt? You’re not ready for that. Not after how your heart was broken after the past relationship.

So you backed away. You needed space. Time. You told yourself you were sorting your feelings out—but really, you were scared of how deep they already ran.

Seungcheol was a mess.

He stared at his phone more than he liked to admit. He went over every second of that night again and again. The way you’d fallen asleep on him. The way he’d kissed you, let something slip that he wasn’t supposed to feel, let alone show.

And then you’d changed.

He told himself maybe you were busy. Maybe stressed. But two weeks in, no word, no response—not even to his concern—he was unravelling.

You had never ghosted him before. Not like this.

Not when things had felt… different.

The silence was starting to gnaw at him. What if that night had ruined everything? What if you regretted it?

What if he was right all along—that someone like you could never love someone like him back?

He debated showing up. Just knocking on your door, demanding to talk. But that wasn’t his place, was it? Not officially. Friends with benefits didn’t come with the right to care this much.

But that didn’t stop the ache in his chest. Or the way his fingers hovered over your contact every single night, wondering if one more message would finally be the one you answered.

You finally listened to the voice note.

Late one night, alone in your apartment, curled up on the couch with your knees hugged to your chest. You hit play and heard his voice—soft, hesitant, filled with something that sounded like pain.

“Y/N… I don’t know what I did. I keep thinking about that night. I thought it meant something. I don’t know. Maybe I read it wrong. Maybe you didn’t feel what I felt. Just… if you’re okay, can you let me know? Please?”

There was silence after that. Then the quiet click of the message ending.

And you felt your throat tighten, tears slipping down your cheeks.

Because he hadn’t done anything wrong.

He had done everything right.

You just needed to stop being afraid of the way he made your feel.

Seungcheol's voice note was the push factor that you decided it is time for you to talk things out.

The following weekend, on the way to a blind date that your mom had forced on you, you finally replied to Seungcheol, asking if he is free to speak tonight. Seungcheol replied almost immediately saying that he will be at your place after lunch.

𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊ 𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊ 𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊

You smoothed the front of your dress nervously as you took a sip of water. Across from you, the man— Mingyu —was chatting about his travels through Europe, his easy smile and confident demeanour making the conversation flow effortlessly.

He was nice. Polite. Funny, even.

But your mind kept drifting. It wasn’t until your phone buzzed twice in quick succession that your heart sank when you glanced at your screen.

Seungcheol: Who is he? What are you doing with him?

You lifted your head slowly, eyes scanning the restaurant—until they locked with his.

There, just one table behind yours, sat Seungcheol. He wasn’t alone. His parents were there, along with his brother, the four of them midway through lunch. But his eyes—those dark, unreadable eyes—were pinned solely on you.

Your lips parted in surprise. How did you not noticed them?

Your instinct screamed at your to get up, walk over, say something—but your mind froze.

You looked back at your phone and typed a quick, simple reply:

Y/N: I’m on a blind date.

His response came instantly.

Seungcheol: Stay there after you’re done.

You didn’t reply. You stared at the message for a second longer before locking your screen and placing your phone face down.

Mingyu didn’t seem to notice the shift in your energy, continuing his story about his favourite hidden café in Paris. You nodded, smiling faintly, but your ears were ringing. You could feel Seungcheol’s stare like a flame on your skin.

“I should go,” Mingyu said suddenly, his tone gentle. “I can tell your head’s somewhere else. It’s okay.”

You blinked, cheeks flushed. “Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s alright.” He smiled kindly. “Honestly, I had a great time, but… I can tell that your mind is occupied by something, or… someone.”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but nothing came out.

“Yes, you are right, I do already have someone else that I liked, I’m sorry.” You finally sighed and admitted.

CRASH. But a loud clatter from behind broke your focus.

A few gasps followed the noise as silverware and a teacup hit the floor. You turned just in time to see Seungcheol cursing softly under his breath, tea dripping from his brother’s blouse while a waiter rushed over with napkins.

Your eyes widened.

You caught his brother’s confused look, his mother’s slight frown, but Seungcheol just clenched his jaw and sat back down stiffly. His eyes didn’t meet yours again after that.

Mingyu tried to ignore the commotion behind him and stood up wanting to leave place as soon as possible. “Take care, Y/N. I hope it works out for you.”

You followed him to the entrance and thanked him sincerely before watching him walk away. And once he was gone, you returned to the table, heart thudding in your chest as you picked up your drink.

Not long after, you spotted Seungcheol standing from his table, waving to his family before quietly excusing himself. His brother gave you a lingering glance—something knowing, something unreadable.

He walked towards you, slow and deliberate. His expression was unreadable, lips pressed into a firm line, his jaw tense. He said nothing as he stopped in front of your table. Just looked at you with those unreadable eyes, then muttered, “Let’s go.”

You hesitated before rising and following him out of the restaurant, each step heavy with tension. You didn’t miss how tightly he gripped his keys. Or how tensed his shoulders were.

You had never seen Seungcheol act this way before. You didn’t know whether to be afraid of what he’d say… or of what you’d end up saying in return.

The tension in the car was thick—almost suffocating.

Y/N sat stiffly in the passenger seat, your hands resting in your lap, fingers anxiously picking at your nails. You could feel Seungcheol’s energy beside your—cold, sharp, tightly wound like a coil ready to snap. He wasn’t saying anything. Just staring straight ahead, knuckles whitening on the steering wheel.

You hated this.

“I didn’t want to go,” you said quietly, breaking the silence. “The blind date. It was all my mom—she wouldn’t stop pushing.”

Still, nothing from him.

Y/N turned to look at him. “I didn’t know you’d be there.”

Seungcheol let out a soft, humourless chuckle. “Yeah, neither did I.”

His jaw tightened.

They rode in silence after that, back to your apartment.

The moment the door clicked shut behind them, Seungcheol moved.

Before you could even turn around fully, your back hit the wall gently—but firmly—as Seungcheol stepped in close, his presence towering, heated, intense. His breath was uneven, ragged, and the way his eyes searched yours was nothing short of desperate.

“Seungcheol—”

He didn’t let you finish. His lips crashed into yours, fierce and unrelenting, like he’d been starved for you. His kiss was nothing like the ones before—this wasn’t the soft, teasing rhythm they used to fall into. This was wild. Raw. Bruising.

You gasped against his mouth, hands instinctively reaching for his shoulders to steady yourself. He groaned low at the contact, deepening the kiss as his hands roamed—over your back, your waist, up your sides like he needed to memorize every inch of you.

“W-What’s going on?” you whispered breathlessly between kisses, your fingers tugging at his shirt as you tried to anchor yourself. “Seungcheol, talk to me.”

But he didn’t answer. Instead, his lips broke away from yours, moving down to your neck—pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses there. Nipping, sucking gently at the skin like he needed to mark you, to brand you as his. His hands were urgent as they found the zipper of your dress, tugging it down, exposing you inch by inch.

Seungcheol’s mouth was everywhere—your lips, your neck, the sensitive skin just below your ear—leaving a trail of heat that burned straight through you.

He hadn’t said a word, but everything in the way he touched your screamed louder than any confession could. There was a desperation in his grip, a storm behind his kisses, like he was trying to chase something he feared he’d never catch again.

You could barely think. Your knees buckled under the weight of it all—his body, the intensity in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you were both his salvation and the source of all his pain.

You gasped as he caught you, steadying you against the wall. “You’re shaking,” he murmured against your skin.

Your lips parted to answer, but no sound came out. Only the rise and fall of your chest as your head dropped back against the cool wall, your entire body melting under his hands.

Seungcheol didn’t give you a moment to recover. He scooped you up and strode into your bedroom, the silence now deafening—charged with something heavier than just lust.

When he set you down on the bed gently, despite how upset he seemed.

He hovered over you like a storm waiting to break. His jaw was clenched, eyes dark and wild with something more than desire. A contradiction to how he laid your gently on bed.

"You said... there’s someone you like."

The words fell from his lips in a whisper, but they landed like thunder.

Y/N blinked, catching your breath.

His hand slid up your thigh, possessive. His mouth found your collarbone, biting down—not to hurt, but to mark you. “Then why?” he asked, his voice low, cracking. “Why are you still here—with me? Why do you let me touch you like this?”

He kissed you again. There was a bite to it, bruising and hungry, as if he was trying to silence his own thoughts.

“Is it just physical?” he asked against your lips, sucking your bottom lip, rough and urgent. “Do I only exist in your life just to fuck?”

You wanted to answer, but all you could manage was a broken gasp as his hands slid along your body, every movement rougher than usual—more intense, more deliberate.

Your fingers gripped his back, nails digging into his shirt as your head fell to the side, overwhelmed.

This wasn’t how Seungcheol usually touched you.

He was always gentle, always controlled, like he was holding back years of emotion he couldn’t afford to show.

But tonight—he was unrestrained.

Desperate.

Worshipping and breaking you at the same time.

“You make me crazy,” he muttered, forehead pressing into the crook of your neck. “You act like none of this means anything, and still I come back—every time—like I belong to you.”

He pulled you closer, his breath uneven. “Do you even know what you do to me?”

You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come, your mind blurry. The pressure, the heat, the way he was touching you like you was both his sanctuary and his punishment—it had your mind spinning.

You weren’t sure what was louder: your heartbeat or the way your body responded to him.

You had never seen him like this. Never felt him like this.

Rough. Needy. Heartbroken.

And somehow, it only made you fall deeper.

Your body trembled beneath his, your breath shallow as you clung to him, your heart aching with everything you hadn’t said.

Seungcheol pulled off slightly to remove his clothes as he wastes no time plunging his cock into your wet hole. Your eyes roll all the way back in pleasure as Seungcheol starts to split your open on his cock. Not giving you time to adjust, fucking you hard.

“This is what you wanted isn’t it?” he panted, hand squishing your cheeks so that you are facing him. “Look at me as I fuck you dumb baby.”

You whimpered, you could barely keep your eyes open as you got lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

Seungcheol goes harder, growling at you to keep your eyes open and on him. He needs to make sure there’s no way you could be thinking of someone else other than him.

There was no gentleness in the way he held you now—only raw frustration and something deeper—aching desperation. His touch was feverish, his pace relentless, like he was trying to memorize your body with every second, every breath, every gasp you gave him. Like he believed—truly believed—that this might be the last time he’d ever have you.

And maybe it was.

“Fuck you’re so damn wet. You like it when I’m rough with you?” he hums, satisfied.

Your hands tangled in the sheets, body trembling beneath his as he buried his face in the curve of your neck, his voice low and ragged against your skin.

“If he’s the one you like…” he breathed heavily, “then why do you still want me like this?”

Each thrust, each motion, was a plea he didn’t know how to voice.

You tried to respond, to tell this idiot that someone in question is him—you really did—but your voice faltered into a moan, body melting into the bed as you pulled Seungcheol closer, clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.

He growled, his hands pressing into the mattress on either side of you, “So pretty when you’re filled with my cock. Tell me you’re mine. I want to hear you say it. Tell me that you love me and only me.”

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, lips parting, only whimpers of pleasure came out.

Seungcheol growls a bit when you don’t answer. He grabs your hips and roughly pulls you to meet his thrusts, making your tits bounce.

Not able to contain yourself any more, you finally let your moans out. Finally saying what he wanted to hear.

He leaned in, breath shaking as he looked you in the eyes.

Jealousy simmering in his chest as he thinks about the possibility of you being with someone else. How everything you had with him was nothing. How he only exist in your life for lust, for pleasure. But he wanted more than that with you.

“Do you even know what you're doing to me?” His voice cracked, and for a split second, the fury in his expression faded into something more painful. His hard and fast thrust slows into gentle grinds. “You're breaking me, Y/N.”

“I thought maybe… just maybe… I could be enough. Even like this,” His large hands tighten on your hips grinder deeper into you, savouring the feeling of your wet pussy. He leans over your body, squishing your tits against his broad chest as he begins to suck on your neck. “Even if all I ever am to you is just a body to fill your bed when you’re lonely.”

Tears stung your eyes.

Because none of that was true.

Because it had never been just about his body.

“N-no, Cheol, it’s not like that.” You finally gained enough strength to say, thoughts tangled in the haze of his touch, his closeness, the emotions radiating from him like a wildfire.

Tons of emotion runs through Seungcheol as his pace picks up again. His leaking cock is reaching so deep inside of you that you could barely think. And you are a moaning mess again.

“I need to hear it,” he whispered against your mouth, his tone cracking open. “Tell me. Was I just convenient for you, all these time? Please.”

You shook your head, “I—Seungcheol, I—”

But the pleasure overwhelmed you again, blurring everything. Nails clawed at his back, your legs tightening around him as he poured everything into your—rage, love, longing of hidden hope.

Seungcheol groaned loudly, lips catching yours. His strong hands push your thighs further apart to fuck you deeper. To show his frustration about your inability to response.

“Always so needy for me fuck, what are you going to do without me,” he said against your lips, barely audible.

You mewled for him as he keeps pushing into you. Your juices are making a mess, dampening his abdomen and thighs, making every plunge of his cock sound more lewd than the last.

“Such a selfish brat.” Seungcheol moans, pounding into your warm and wet pussy with hunger and desire. “Fuck. Only needing me when you need my cock. This fucking pussy belongs to me.”

You nod along to his words moans mixing with the  sound of his heavy balls slapping against your skin. “A-all yours, Cheollie. O-only yo-yours.”

“Damn right it’s mine. It’s fucking mine. You’re mine. All of you.”

Seungcheol’s fingers squeeze into the fat of your thighs as he smashes his mouth against yours. His greedy and sloppy with his movements, drinking up your moans like he’s starved for them. When he pulls his messy mouth from yours, he sees the lust in your eyes, your face contorts as you feels the pleasure he gives you.

“No one can fuck me like I do.” Seungcheol can’t hide his smirk. He groans, pushing your legs to the apex of your flexibility so the head of his cock can push against that sensitive, spongy spot deep inside you.

He proves his point by moving in a nearly inhuman pace, cock burying into you so viciously it makes you scream. Nails dig into the rolling muscles of his back, his skin changing colour as you drag your nails down his spine.

“God, Cheollie. Gonna—Gonna...”

“Gonna what, baby girl?” he coos.

Your cunt sucks him in tighter, the prominent veins of his cock brushing against your walls deliciously. It’s like your head is swimming, and you can barely speak.

“G-gonna c-cum! So close, Cheollie! Ah, ah, ah!” Your head falls to the side as you continue to whine, stomach tightening and spasming as Cheol barrels into you.

It’s highly likely that he’ll leave bruises on your skin from how hard his hands are wrapped around you.

“Already?” Seungcheol hums, satisfied. “Oh baby. You just love my cock that much, huh?”

You nodded your head against the pillow, eyes falling shut as you get lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. Seungcheol goes harder, growling at you to keep your eyes open and on him.

“Cum for me, baby.” He commanded, and you can’t not obey.

You let out a high-pitched cry when an overwhelming orgasm consumes you.

Seungcheol keeps fucking you even when he feels the first milking compression of your cunt.

He gritted his teeth and will himself not to heed the call of his own orgasm. He just want to feel you, want to watch you lose your fucking mind over his cock.

To give him assurance that only he can make you lost your mind like this.

And you do. Liquid spurts from your pussy as your stomach clenches and unclenches rhythmically. Slick gushed from your cunt and gathers around the base of his cock. Your face is hot as your lips part in a loud moan.

Seungcheol moans along with you as your back arches into him. He can literally see you fall into the sea of pleasure he threw you into.

Unable to hold back his own orgasm at this point. Seungcheol moans loudly, lips chanting your name again and again like you’re his only saving grace. Hot ropes of his cum shoot into you, painting every inch of your walls.

He smooths his hands down your shaking thighs before he gently lets them go. They fall to the bed as he brings one of his hands to caress your soft cheek and the other to rub soothing circles on your sensitive clit. Seungcheol keeps fucking his cum deeper into you, the aftershocks of your orgasm hum against his cock and trickle down his spine.

“Fuck, I love how you always milk my cock like a hungry slut.” He licks his lips as another gush of slick pours out of you. “Shit, baby. You like it that much?”

Seungcheol is gently rocking into you, murmuring sweet things against your cheek. You’re panting gently as he fucks you through the remainder of your orgasm. His lips nipping the back of your ear as he snuggle deeper into you. His hips slowly come to a stop, and you can tell he’s trying to regain his own senses.

The air in the bedroom was thick with silence, save for the soft rustling of sheets and the slowing breaths they shared. Seungcheol stayed still, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if letting go would mean losing your for good.

You lay beneath him, your skin still flushed, heart still hammering from the high they had just come down from. He pressed his face into your shoulder, eyes shut tight.

There was a long pause, before Seungcheol gently pulled out of you, watching juices of his and yours drip out of your abuse pussy.

His eyes trailed back to yours, with a hoarse voice, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

You blinked, brow furrowing.

“I shouldn’t have been so rough,” he continued, gently swiping the hair sticking on your forehead. His eyes were filled with regret and something even deeper—fear. “I… I let my emotions take over. And if you never want to see me again after this, I get it. I really do.”

You tilted your head. For a moment, you said nothing. Just stared at him. And then—

You reached up and grabbed his face between both palms, squishing his cheeks slightly, eyes narrowed.

“Yah, Choi Seungcheol,” you muttered, exasperated but tender. “If this were anyone else, I would’ve kicked them out half-naked and blocked them before they could even say sorry.”

His eyes widened slightly, unsure of what you were saying—until you smiled.

“But it’s you.”

His brows knit tighter as your thumbs gently brushes over the apples of his cheeks. You always thought his cheeks were like mochi, so squishy, so delish.

“The person I like… the one I’ve been falling for all this time…” you said softly, your voice almost trembling, “is you.”

Seungcheol stared at you, frozen.

“I was an idiot,” you continued, “for thinking I could keep pretending it was just sex. That I could ignore how my heart races when you show up with my favourite snacks, or how I sleep better after hearing your voice, or how I always feel safest when I’m with you.”

He still hadn’t said anything—but you could feel the way his fingers curled tighter around your waist, how his breath caught in his throat.

“I was scared,” you admitted. “Scared that if I told you, it would ruin everything. But after tonight… after what you said…” You pressed your forehead to his. “I’d rather risk everything than keep hurting you like this.”

A long silence passed between you both.

Then, finally, Seungcheol let out a shaky laugh, almost disbelieving. “You’re serious?”

You nodded, playing with his hair.

His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but all he could do was pull you into a hug so tight it almost knocked the breath out of you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck again, and this time, his voice was full of relief.

“I thought I already lost you. I thought you were going to end things with me today… I- ” he whispered.

“Idiot,” you whispered back, smiling as you wrap your hands around his board shoulders.

“I’ve had a crush on you since university,” he confessed in a rush, like the words had been bursting at the seams for years. “I fell deeper after we started this thing but I kept telling myself I’d take whatever you gave me, even if it was just your body, even if you never looked at me the way I looked at you.”

You tightened your hug around him and kiss his hair, taking in his comforting scent.

“But now that I know you feel the same…” he pulled back and looked into your eyes, his gaze soft but intense, “I’m never letting you go again.”

You smiled as tears gathered in your eyes, and leaned up to kiss him again—this time slowly, full of love, not lust. A promise, not a question.

And as your lips met again, everything between you finally made sense.