Seonghwa Headcanons - Tumblr Posts

ateez with a clingy and affectionate drunk partner

⇀ genre fluff

⇀ style reactions/headcanons

⇀ warnings reader is drunk, lots of physical affection (kisses, hugs, lap sitting, cuddling, etc)

note requested by @nnnarchives

seonghwa

no matter how many times you’ll get like this around him, he always seems surprised and will ask if you’re okay

cooing over you and babying you so much it makes everyone around you both sick

makes sure you’re drinking water or eating by bribing you with kisses and just smiles so adoringly when you announce that you finished the whole glass of water and are ready for your reward

eventually he catches you starting to doze off on his shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around his bicep as he chats softly with the person across from you both

he excuses himself quickly to usher you both home, where he’ll give you all the cuddles you could ever want

hongjoong

his reaction would be very situational

if you’re around other people, he will be so shy and probably ask if you want to leave because its just hard for him to handle you and control his darkening blush at the same time

if you’re alone he is soaking up all of the attention, absolutely ready to do anything you want and continually reminding you how pretty/beautiful/cute/sexy you are

if he’s also drunk then he just melts into the attention, encouraging you by asking for head scratches, laying in your lap, or falling asleep on your shoulder

any which way, he’s a blushing mess by the time you start dozing off, ready to call it a night

yeosang

he’s so blushy and giggly which of course only makes you cling tighter

giving you so many head pats while you hang off his arm but sort of doesn’t know what to do with himself

probably asks if you want to leave the function early because he wants to just pull you into his arms and cuddle you back but doesn’t feel like he can when you’re outside the bubble of your apartment

he’s going to be a little stiff but i promise he loves it, he just doesn’t know if you want him to be affectionate back unless you clearly tell him

yunho

literally so in love with you

he would find your drunk behavior so adorable and actively encourage you to sit in his lap or wrap your arms around his waist

you don’t even have to ask for kisses, he’s already peppering them all over your face

will just hold your face in his hands and stare at you so lovestruck as you pout, wanting more kisses

san

he’s the type to be oblivious to any increase in physical affection without verbal confirmation or acknowledgment from you, it’s not that he doesn’t appreciate it he just feels it to be so natural to who he is as a partner

when he does notice your drunken behavior, he’s immediately melting and pulling you into his arms, basically smothering you

this is when you get giggly san to make an appearance

if you’re in public, it immediately feels like you’re in your own bubble, just the two of you, as he matches all your affection with some of his own, the world around you melting away

if you’re at home, it might turn into something very domestic like sharing a dance in the middle of the kitchen or rambling about what the future has in store for you while wrapped in each others arms

mingi

he is literally so happy, his cheeks will hurt from smiling by the end of the night

he’s always worried about making you uncomfortable with initiating physical contact so for you to be the one initiating and doing so often, he is just ecstatic

if you get distracted or wonder away for a moment, he will subtly try to get your attention back and pretend that he’s surprised when you go back to clinging onto him

if you catch on to how much he’s liking the affection his ears will be red immediately as he drops his head into the crook of your neck to hide from your gaze, only giving you better access to pepper kisses against his cheek

wooyoung

he always matches your energy

so sorry to anyone in the general vicinity but you’ve just become the couple that will not separate from each other

will lean into you and tap his cheek as an invitation to give him a kiss

if you aren’t sitting on his lap, he’s sitting on yours

he enjoys enabling your behavior when you get like this but will also lightly tease, because the only thing he loves more than you clingy is you pouting at him, demanding more kisses as repayment

jongho

he’s definitely going to take the opportunity to tease you

he knows what you want but he’s going to pretend he has no clue and make you clearly say that you want to kiss him or even just hold his hand

don’t let his fake obliviousness fool you of course, he’s absolutely enamored by you and your affection, he just has a reputation to uphold, especially around his members

so he’s going to pretend like your kisses and hugs are annoyances, distractions from the conversation he’s trying to have with someone, but really he’s melting on the inside

but don’t worry, he’ll be sure to return your love once you’re out of the public eye

↼ ateez masterlist

note i had fun writing this, thank you for the request!

haiii would you ever consider writing for the boyz, i love your writing so much it's so good and i literally can't find any small blurbs about them like yours on this app, ive read all of them! u can ignore this message jagi, love your works!!!!!!

i dont know, i mean i dont mind, i love them as much as you do and my boyz are truly underrated, lemme ask the audience (btw thank you so much thats such a nice compliment, im so happy that you like my writing!!), also if i'd recommend this smau by @ericupid but you prolly already know it (˵¯͒〰¯͒˵)

STEEL AND SILK (001)

wooyoung walks up behind you, making sure to tighten the straps of your odm gear. his affectionate gesture catches you off guard, causing you to blush slightly. he doesn't seem to notice, though, as he's too focused on laughing at a joke san just cracked. playfully, he slaps your butt and winks at you before returning to his place among the soldiers. your smile fades when erwin begins his speech about the upcoming expedition beyond the walls.

you and the boys have finally joined the survey corps, embarking on your first mission to explore the dangerous areas outside the walls for expansion. it's natural to feel scared, but you take comfort in having your boys by your side.

the speech ends, and you all are finally able to relax and move around. while some are practicing with their odm gears, you find a quiet spot, observing the boys as they laugh and joke around. your attention rests on connie and jean teasing mingi, who's screaming about adjusting the saddle on his horse and how they're not letting him. a warm hand touches your back, and you turn to see hongjoong's soft eyes looking at you.

"are you okay?" he asks gently, and you can only smile in response, struggling to find the right words to convey your emotions. his understanding gaze puts you at ease.

"it's okay, baby, i understand," he says, sitting down next to you. for a while, you both remain silent, the laughter and cheers of the corps filling the gaps. he pulls you closer into his arms, planting soft kisses on the top of your head.

"you know," yunho chimes in as he hands you a bowl of stew mikasa cooked, taking his own seat beside you both and scooping some into his own bowl, "it's funny how the highest-scoring soldiers in the tests are the ones sulking."

"shut up," you laugh, blowing on the hot liquid before offering a spoonful to hongjoong so he can taste it.

as the night goes on, you all gather around the campfire, the realization of venturing beyond the walls, where danger lurks, dawning upon you all.

taglist: @hyukssunflower @cqndiedcherries @ad0rechuu lmk if you want 2 be in my permanent taglist

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSTEEL AND SILK

prompt: in a world besieged by colossal, man-eating creatures known as titans, a brave group of soldiers known as the survey corps embarks on a treacherous mission to safeguard humanity. you, along with eight loyal boyfriends, find yourself at the forefront of this harrowing tale. feat: ot8!atz x fem!reader genre: fluff, smut (in later blurbs) au: attack on titan notes: random blurbs set in said universe cuz i can't write a story 4 shit

001 002 003 004

hi!!! just binge read like all ur ateez work LMAO theyre so good. could i request an ateez imagine where theyre making out with the reader while a chase atlantic song plays in the back? u can make it smut or leave it suggestive 🩷 tyy love ur work have a good day

MAKING OUT W ATZ ON A CHASE ATLANTIC BEAT

pairing: ateez x fem!reader genre: suggestive wrd cnt: 1.9k author's note: IM BACK AFTER A WEEK LONG HIATUS HELL YEAAAA, SORRY 4 THE WAIT taglist: @satsuri3su @cqndiedcherries @hyukssunflower @ad0rechuu @hiraii-gf @marievllr-abg @liniiiaa masterlist

　　○˳　　　　　　hongjoong

he starts off slow, with gentle pecks and tender hands, drawing you closer to him. the cold air prompts you to slip your arms under his coat, seeking warmth. both of you share a pair of airpods, with "meddle about" playing in both your ears. he nibbles your neck softly, placing another kiss on your throat, and you immediately melt into his embrace.

"hongjoong, people are going to see us, we can't—" you whisper meekly as the cool wind blows around you both. before you can finish, he silences you with a lingering kiss on the lips.

"who cares," he mumbles, and a soft moan escapes your lips as his cold hands explore the skin of your waist under your shirt. suddenly, everything feels warm, comfortable, and peaceful with him holding you, and you just want to be even closer to him.

your small moan, blending with the music in his ears, is all it takes to fuel his desire. he craves more—more sounds escaping your lips, more of your touch on his skin, more of you.

but you gently push him away, and he looks down at you with confusion. bashfully, you point behind him, and he turns, groaning when he sees that the bus has arrived.

"let's continue this at home."

　　○˳　　　　　　seonghwa

your fingertip traces gently over the bridge of his nose, and you can feel his eyes on your face, but you don't bother looking at him. your gaze fixates on his lips as you immerse yourself in the lyrics of the song. slowly, you start mouthing the words, and he smirks, fully aware of what lyrics are about to come up.

"she said fuck me like i'm famous," you murmur against his lips, drawing closer with every beat of the music.

"i said okay," seonghwa whispers back, mouthing the lyrics, and you giggle before finally pressing your lips to his. your tongues clash in a fiery dance, both seeking dominance, a bit rough but passionate. you let your hands rake over the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging at the black strands. "slow down" continues playing as he pushes you back against the bed, dropping open-mouthed kisses along your neck until he reaches the edge of your cleavage.

"do you really want me to fuck you like that mmh?" he asks, taunting you, pushing his hard covered length against you, clearly wanting to hear you beg for him. but you can only focus on the sensation of his hand pressed against your lower stomach, which draws out pretty whimpers over the music instead of the pleas he so desperately desires.

"come on pretty girl tell me how bad you want it."

　　○˳　　　　　　yunho

yunho rushes over to press play on the stereo and then quickly returns to you, lifting you up and throwing you onto the bed. he doesn't give you a chance to support yourself on your elbows before he's already on top of you, showering your neck with wet kisses. you respond by cupping his cheeks with your hands, pulling him closer, and gently licking at his lips to coax them open.

yunho captures your bottom lip between his teeth, gently sucking on it, and then lapping at the swollen flesh with tenderness before biting down. the loud blaring of "swim" fills the room from the brand new stereo he gifted you, ensuring his songs are always there to remind you of him whenever he's not around. and it's true, you find yourself constantly thinking about him and his sweet kisses. the passion between you two intensifies as the music sets the mood.

"mmm, my princess," he murmurs appreciatively against your lips, bending down to place a soft kiss on your jaw. your hands find their way into his hair, lightly tugging as a way of showing your pleasure, "how about you let me swim in that pussy huh?"

normally, you'd chuckle at his playful wordplay, but right now, you can only nod eagerly, urging him to move down faster by pushing his shoulders gently. he smirks against the bare skin of your stomach, leaving a trail of sweet kisses until he finally reaches his intended destination.

　　○˳　　　　　　yeosang

"sangie!! missed you so much baby!!" you squeal, leaping into his arms. he immediately drops his luggage on the floor to hold you, hugging you tightly against his body.

"i missed you too doll," he says, using his foot to close the door. with you still in his arms, he takes off his shoes and walks to the open kitchen where he drops you off on the kitchen counter softly. he notices the song playing on your macbook and the half-sprinkled cupcakes. "you've been cookin'? … on a chase atlantic beat? ozone out off all songs…"

you giggle a small "what's wrong with it" but he only looks at you with intense, heavy-lidded eyes. well someone is not in the mood to laugh. and like magnets, you're drawn to each other in an instant, sharing deep, passionate kisses that draw soft moans from both of you.

his hands roam all over your body, pressing against your flesh, pulling you closer as if he wants to imprint your body in his memory. he peppers kisses all over your face and playfully bites your earlobe.

"fuck i missed my girl so much," he says, taking a deep inhale and completely enveloping you with his form. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, taking in your scent.

"i'll give you five minutes to take your laptop upstairs, take off your clothes and lay on the bed, you're not sleeping tonight doll," he says as he takes a bite of the cupcakes you made.

"fuck these are good."

　　○˳　　　　　　san

the instant you catch the sound of san's car engine echoing outside your house, you snatch up your purse and practically bolt out the door. your dainty heels make a rhythmic clinking against the concrete, the ground itself seeming to vibrate to the thumping bass of the song.

as you finally slide into his car and reach for the seatbelt, san seizes the opportunity to let his eyes roam over you. while you're not focused on him, his gaze lingers on the way your skirt rides up your thighs, revealing a hint of your tights. the sight of them digging into your skin sends a thrill through him.

he moistens his lips and shifts his gaze to your face, licking his lips as you're absorbed in silently mouthing the lyrics of "ohmami". in perfect rhythm with the song's beat drop, san deftly readjusts his seat, pushing it back to create more room between him and the steering wheel. without waiting for your inquiry, he swiftly releases your seatbelt and clasps your waist, firmly placing you onto his lap as you let out an surprised squeal.

"what? sannie what are you doing?" your hands land on his chest, but he doesn't budge, only pulling you closer by placing his hand on the nape of your neck. he draws you in for a lingering kiss. his tongue slips into your mouth, gently sucking on your tongue and playfully dancing with your own.

"y'look so good baby, let's ditch the others and have some fun on the backseat." he blows a cool breeze across your collarbone, as if he's already undressing you. his fingers grip the edge of your thighs, and you give a shy nod, meeting his gaze while biting your lip.

　　○˳　　　　　　mingi

"consume" blares through the stereo so loudly that you can hear the music from the doorway of his studio. you can't help but roll your eyes as you step inside, finding him with a frown directed at an empty space.

you stroll up to him, your fingers gently caressing his cheek from behind, coaxing his gaze to meet yours. you silently mouth a small "hi," but the music's volume drowns out the words. mingi responds by tugging at the strings of your hoodie that hang close to his nose. he draws your face nearer and plants a tender kiss on your lips, the proximity causing your noses to simultaneously brush against each other's chins, creating a playful tickle. he withdraws slightly, then swivels his rolling chair to fully face you.

he opens his legs, gazing up at you with an implicit invitation to join him on his lap. however, you merely place a knee between his thighs, arching your back until your face aligns with his. just as the featured rapper hits the beat, you plant a gentle kiss on his lips. as you start to pull back, he surprises you by deepening the kiss, biting down firmly on your bottom lip, coaxing you to part your lips. a soft whine escapes you at the slight sting, and he seizes the moment to slip his tongue into your mouth, pressing it firmly against yours. drawing you even closer, his hands slip beneath your shirt, toying with the delicate lace of your bra.

"come on tiny, i need inspiration, why don't you let me hear your pretty sounds."

　　○˳　　　　　　wooyoung

"escort" fills the air, creating a background melody as the two of you recline lazily on the bed. it's a friday night, and the thought of navigating through the bustling streets of seoul feels like a bit too much effort. so, instead, you opt for the simple pleasure of snuggling up together on the bed, the music serving as a gentle companion to ward off any awkward silence.

your cheek rests against his bare chest, and you let your index finger trace his tummy, following the contours that his abs form, creating a shifting path. he hums a soft tune, his eyes closed, thoroughly enjoying the sensation of your fingertip against his skin.

"woo," you whisper, catching him off guard. he tilts his chin down to meet your gaze, arching one eyebrow curiously, "let's fuck."

he lets out a soft chuckle as your hand ventures lower, tracing a path along his happy trail, eliciting a gentle grunt from his lips. propping yourself up on your elbow, you drape yourself over him, aligning your faces and bringing yourself down just as your hand reaches the hem of his sweatpants.

you playfully tease, sticking out your tongue and gently running it over his lips. he draws it into his mouth, sucking on it while his hand gets caught in your hair. the affectionate moment evolves into a series of fervent kisses, eventually leading him to trail his way down to your pretty pussy.

　　○˳　　　　　　jongho

jongho's hand gently cups your cheek, his touch making your gaze lock onto his. you bite your lip, trying to contain the smile that's eager to spread across your face. his thumb glides over the curve of your cheek as the song "angeline" starts playing randomly from the tv mounted on the wall.

"that's your song, angel," he murmurs against your forehead, planting a tender kiss there. his fingers play with your hair, tilting your head back to reveal your neck. he showers small kisses along the curve of your throat, feeling the gentle rise and fall as you swallow. he nips down with a bit of intensity, drawing a soft moan from you. "so lovely, sounding like an angel, and looking like one too—"

the words falter on his lips as your hand rests on his bulge through his pants, causing a soft gasp to escape you as you feel how substantial it is. weighty in your grasp, you apply more pressure, while he places fervent kisses on your collarbone, more akin to fervent nips. you squeeze your thighs together, consumed by desire.

he leans back toward your lips, and you reach your limit. your hand finds its way to his throat, and you softly draw him back, eyes glossy with need.

"please jjong, i need you now."

so tiny [nsfw]

pairing: ot8!ateez x fem!reader warnings: use of pet names (tiny, sweetheart once), sex toy (joong), oral (joong, mingi), riding (hwa, woo), size kink (yun), daddy kink (san) degradation (woo, jjong), slight pain kink (woo), jjong's mean and woo's a brat, gn reader 4 everyone except 4 jjong author's note: just finished with my exams so this is a little present 4 everyone

"You're doin' so well for me tiny," murmurs Hongjoong, gently sliding the pale dildo into you, still unable to let you handle his own impressive size. "You're nearly there, almost ready to take the real shit." As he senses your climax, your legs trembling, your back arching on the bed, he withdraws it. Wordlessly, he moves closer, tenderly brushing your cheeks, wiping away your tears. "Open," he instructs softly, and you comply, eager to hear his praises. He guides the moist object into your mouth, urging you to taste yourself, pushing it deeper and deeper as he hums in his raspy voice. "Good. That's how you should use that tiny mouth of yours" he says, satisfaction evident in his tone, thumb gliding over the bulge in your throat.

Seonghwa's eyes are fixed on you, unyielding, as you try to settle his cock into the nooks of your heat. Your thighs tremble as you slowly perch on his lap. He doesn't utter a word or extend any aid, just gazes at you with those wide eyes that usually overflow with tenderness, now tinged with an air of superiority. "Come on, tiny, time's ticking," he murmurs, but you can only respond with incoherent murmurs about how you can't and how it's too big, the position proving too much to handle, especially after the endless orgasms he has bestowed upon you in the past half-hour. He clicks his tongue, a wave of disappointment washing over him. With an unexpectedly gentle gesture, he seizes your waist, compelling the inches of his dick to go deeper in you. Your eyes roll in response, and your body collapses against his exposed chest, allowing yourself to give into him completely, mixing the drool with the sweat of his chest.

"What's the matter, tiny?" you hear Yunho's mean smirk in his voice right behind you, and you can only let out a little whimper in response. His long fingers delving deep within you are soon replaced with a dick, his tip finding your g-spot in an instant. You let out a sudden cry, pleading for something, anything, not quite sure what you need, while he can only manage breathless chuckles. "Is it too much?" You murmur in a strained voice so many "yes's" that you've lost count. Your hand reaches to grasp his larger one spread over your stomach as he plants open-mouthed kisses on your neck, savoring the salty taste he caused. "Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about that, sweetheart." He places another hand on your throat, squeezing gently, momentarily quieting your whimpers. "I'll make it work."

Yeosang couldn't care less about your endless whining—especially not when you're making the most beautiful noises and looking even more pretty, tears streaming down your lash lines. He puts a hand on your mouth, muffling the pleas escaping your lips. "Hush, tiny, you'll wake the whole damn neighborhood." Pinned beneath him, you can only nod messily. He releases an incredulous scoff, "So eager to please, huh?" he chuckles, emphasizing each word with rough thrusts.

"Turn around, let me see how lovely you look," San says softly, his droopy eyes glistening as you reveal the delicate baby pink lingerie. You can't help but bite your lip, twirling around gently, basking in the warmth of his admiration. "Come here, tiny, let Daddy have a look," he murmurs, as you tiptoe over, finding yourself nestled between his thighs. San's large hands trace a path from behind your knees to your ass, squeezing the tender flesh. "Such a pretty little thing," he murmurs softly, his head dipping to your stomach as he peppers kisses over the delicate fabric. "I almost feel bad about how I'm gonna ruin you."

"Nngh, fuck tiny, I can't" he whines, clumsily grabbing the makeshift ponytail he fashioned out of your hair. "Keep going tiny I'm so close." His dick snug in your tight little throat, the bulbous tip brushing against the back, making your eyes well up with tears. He throbs in your warm mouth, saliva pooling at the base, dribbling down making a big mess. "You're so pretty fuck, don't look at me like that, I'll cum in your mouth." He cries as he makes eye contact with your pretty eyes, wet lashes fluttered with each bob of your head, cheeks already damp and stained by the rolling tears.

"What's wrong tiny, can't handle this dick?" He taunts with a cocky grin, peering up at you while you slow down atop of his dick. With a sharp slap on your thigh, he urges you to keep going. He bites back a moan as your nails dig into his chest, almost breaking the skin. You sense him twitch inside you as you display your frustration, and you can't help but scoff inwardly. "Come on tiny, ride it like the slut you are." he urges, his hands finding your waist, compelling you to bounce on his lap. Just as he prepares to speak again, you take action, slipping two manicured fingers into his mouth, hitting deep, done with his remarks. "Shut the fuck up Wooyoung."

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like it, you’re soaking wet” Jongho's deep voice resonates in your ears. He pinches one of your nipples, twirling the bud between his fingers, his gaze fixed on your face. His hand glides down, tracing a path to your clit. With practiced precision, he presses a finger onto it, observing your response with keen eyes, savoring the moment. "I can sense how close you are, tiny, and I didn't even do shit yet." a hint of a smile finally graces his features as he gathers the slick nestled between your folds. "It's fucking pathetic." You attempt to shield your face with your hands, but he swats them aside. He seizes your cheeks, squeezing them firmly. "Do that one more time and you don't get to cum tonight."

masterlist | requested | taglist in comments | feedback is appreciated :)

i loved you — park seonghwa

summary. there's nothing like dancing at a ball with your greatest enemy... and the man who broke your heart. pairing. rival king!park seonghwa x fem!queen!reader. genre. hurt no comfort, lovers to enemies... to lovers? warnings. death, like a lot of it, major character death, lots of hurt, no comfort, poisoning, weapons, mild gore. wc. 2.1k

[ listening to . . . ] once upon a december by emile pandolfi.

　　　　　　　　　main masterlist

You descended the grand staircase, one of your arms linked with the captain of your army. In the warm candlelight of the ballroom, your light blue—nearly white—ball gown seemed to glow. The guests rocked and swayed on the dance floor as others watched from the sidelines, giddy with the euphoric side effects of their drinks. Citizens of both Utopia and Aurora weaved through each other in graceful twirls and dips. It’s been a long time since Aurora saw peace rather than the bloodshed of men and women alike who were willing to die for their kingdom.

Once you reached the floor, you were offered a dance by a nobleman. After nodding a farewell to General Choi San, you joined the young man as you conversed very awkwardly over a slow waltz. Once you finally got away from him, an older duke from someplace you didn’t recognise, a small estate north of Utopia, was at your side in an instant. Stifling a great sigh, you agreed to a single waltz.

As the man spun you around, you caught a glimpse of a familiar black suit. With a polite smile, you excused yourself and curtseyed to the older man. As you glided to the dais set in marble on the other side of the room, your locked eyes with San for a brief moment. Your posture relaxed as you watched your subjects sway to the melody of violins and cellos. A soft smile painted itself onto your elegant features as you felt another presence next to you. It wasn't hard to guess who it was; the distinct vanilla and citrus scent combined with the long shadow of the tall figure cast onto the floor was enough of a tell.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Seonghwa began, hoping you wouldn’t turn to look at him just yet. “About everything.”

“Of course you’re sorry,” you let out a bitter chuckle as if the losses of the people that matter most to you could be remedied by any of the contents found in a first aid kit.

He looked at you, his eyes widening slightly. You stood beside him like a tree swaying lightly in the breeze of the music. You did not look at him, even as you felt his dark eyes burning into the side of your face. Your face continued to gaze ahead with a solemn expression—the grin that once graced your features was now reduced to oblivion. The young king sucked in a breath and turned back around, watching a servant weave his way through the crowd, offering drinks and biscuits. When the servant passed them, Seonghwa beckoned him over with the raise of his hand. The blond approached them, his posture slightly straighter than it was a minute before. you recognised the man, he had been supporting wounded soldiers as they marched their way out of the forest that served as a natural border between Utopia and Aurora when the war had concluded.

“May I be of assistance, Your Majesty?” he asked, bowing his head subtly.

Seonghwa cleared his throat. “A drink would be nice.”

Without hesitation, the servant handed him a clear drink, contained in a long, clear glass. The king of Utopia nodded a thank you and the servant turned away. He was interrupted by the soft voice of his queen.

“Thank you, Yunho,” you said.

Yunho beamed at you before walking off to serve an older man near the dance floor. As the two monarchs stood in silence for another while longer, the male of you two glanced around nervously. He felt eyes on him. You glanced at him once before averting your eyes back to the crowd enjoying themselves on the dance floor. With a start, you turned to the man next to you after feeling him tap your shoulder. He offered you the glass he received from the servant—Yunho, as you had called him. You eyed the drink, then you eyed him. When you finally took it off his hands, he let out a small breath, the smirk that you fell in love with stretching over his lips. Raising the glass to your lips, you took a sip, enjoying the sweet taste that swirled through your mouth.

“I know it won’t fix anything, but may I ask you to join me on the dance floor?” he asked once you finished the drink. He gulped when you looked up at him, suddenly aware of how close you were. “To show everyone that we have gotten past our differences?”

For a moment, you contemplated his offer, an uneasy feeling washing over you. You would have to go through with the plan either way; a single dance won’t change your mind. He offered you a hand, his smirk turning into a genuine grin once you accepted it. The brunette led you to the middle of the room. You suppressed a flinch as one of his hands found its way to your waist, but still, you rested your hand on his shoulder as your free hands held each other. You swayed to the melody played by the violins. He spun you around occasionally. He liked the way your hand fit in his, slightly smaller and warmer, but they fit together like the gears of a clock. The song was coming to an end, the crescendos and diminuendos of the climax of the piece had long passed. The laughter stopped abruptly and was replaced by confused whispers as the lights suddenly went off, leaving everyone in the dark. You let go of Seonghwa, taking a step back to remove you from him completely.

A piercing scream ripped through the air.

Followed by another one coming from the opposite side of the room. Multiple other screams rang out, accompanied by the quick footsteps of anxious guests trying to get out of the room. Slowly, the lights turned back on. You stood from the ground, where you had been inspecting the lifeless body of a man that lay by your feet, blood flowing from his stomach and mouth and pouring onto the marble floor. Seonghwa looked around in horror—half of his Utopian guard was nowhere to be seen while the ones that were there had been pierced by the sabres of Aurora’s soldiers; a dozen guests lay scattered around the room, dead or breathing in dangerously shallow breaths; crimson streaks decorated the floor like an abstract painting made by a four-year-old; your blood-stained hands, trembling ever so slightly. He expected a look of shock on your face, but that’s not what he saw at all. Your cheeks flushed and your eyes lit up with rage, but there wasn’t an ounce of fear or shock on your face as you stared him down. But he saw past it. The anger was nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for his life, lonely and desperate. Your shoulders heaved with each breath you took.

“So, this is it?” He arched an eyebrow, watching your every move.

You didn’t respond, instead, your hand pushed a piece of fabric from your skirt to the side and pulled out a dagger, frustrated tears beginning to spill down your face. You took a slow step forward. “You killed my lover, what did you expect me to do?”

“Oh, don’t be foolish, dear,” he chuckled, “This won’t fix anything and you know that. You’ll try to attack me, you’ll fail and I’ll leave, unmarked, and be ready to attack by sunrise for going against our treaty. Wasn’t it obvious enough that Utopia has always had a better military than Aurora?”

You stopped right in front of him, close enough to feel his warm breath brushing against your face. “Yeah? And where is that big bad military right now?” you whispered, eyes flickering around his face, surveying his reaction. “I have nothing to lose, anyway. I’ve already lost it all,” You sneered through gritted teeth. “All… because… of you.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at you. He made a clicking noise with his tongue, looking up with a hint of a smirk. “I’m surprised the poison hasn’t affected you yet. Perhaps I didn’t use enough.”

Your confidence visibly faltered and you stepped back. “What?”

“Oh, that’s right, you didn’t notice. The drink I gave you, did it look like water? Hate to break it to you, but I paid that servant boy—Yunho, was it?—to replace all the water with thallium. Of course, thallium takes a while to act on the human body, but when consumed in large amounts, it is very lethal and quite quick to act. Your guests should be dropping dead right outside those doors… right… about… now.” At his last words, screams were heard from outside the grand doors of the ballroom, he seemed satisfied with your horrified reaction to this before adding in an amused whisper, “I’m sure your dear boyfriend could tell you all about it.”

With a cry, you lifted your dagger, hyper-aware of the discomfort in your stomach after what you were just told. He dodged your attack while pulling his own dagger out of the inside of his suit and holding it out in front of him. You, on the other hand, could already feel yourself growing weaker with every breath you took, your chest burning as if it were on fire. You stood opposite each other, arms outstretched with daggers clutched tightly in them; each of you pointing them at each other’s throats. He was calm, chin held high with pride and an expressionless face. You had tears brimming your eyes, pushing their limits, face flushed and lips pulled between your teeth for a few seconds.

“I loved you, Seonghwa,” You let out a noise somewhere between laugh and sob. “But all you cared about is power. You wouldn’t know the feeling of being prepared to do anything for that special person, would never experience that– that pure euphoria when you’re in the same room as them. And I could not settle for someone unable to love me back the same way.”

He didn’t say anything so you stepped closer, lowering your dagger. His gaze followed you as you came closer to him, nudging his dagger out of your way and letting his hand fall to his side. You stopped in front of him once more, your big, wet eyes locked with his. You liked his eyes, when you were younger you could’ve sworn you saw whole galaxies in them. A clang rang through the soundless hall as Seonghwa let the dagger go. He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb stroking it gently.

“You don’t understand,” he mumbled, “I had to prove I was a capable leader. My people saw me as a coward for years, I just wanted it to change. But all those years ago, when we hid away under that big oak tree, I was in love with you. I still am in love with you, Y/N.”

Your sobs had once scarred your lips, but that night—before the moon could even join the dark clouds soaring above—you felt the man's kisses that echoed like the final pleas of a collapsing star. For a moment you thought it was ironic, his kisses resembled the electricity of a supernova while his name meant to become a star… though, that’s not the only reason it was ironic. You hesitated for a moment before giving in, but you couldn’t call it off now. Seonghwa let out a gasp and stepped back to look at the blade that had been plunged into his chest, blood already pooling around the knife and soaking through his perfectly tailored clothes. He coughed, blood spurting through his lips before spilling out in a steady stream. You closed your eyes, silent tears dripping down to your chin as you clutched your stomach and fell to the ground. Your breaths became shallow as you lay there, utterly helpless as the effects of poison overcame you.

You felt another body fall to the ground next to you, but like almost two hours before, it didn’t take any guessing to figure out who it was. Your eyelids grew heavy as did your breaths; you couldn’t hold on any longer. Your chest gave a scream of desperation as it struggled for air. But it was too late, your body went limp and cold, and the only thing that stayed warm was the hand that was held firmly by the man you once loved. Soon enough, it too went limp.

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] i do not take any responsibility for any mental damages i may have cause (/j). anyways, i'm not really sure why i wrote this but here it is. i was probably influenced by all the shakespeare i've read recently but who knows? i certainly don't :P. thank you to @nebulousbrainsoup for beta reading, love ya babes!! and a small dedication to @a1sh1teruu and @yoonrimin for helping me make up my mind on posting it. love you all!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

　　[ network ... ] @cromernet

・❥・ SEONGHWA AS BOYFRIEND

° Morning kisses. He would wake you up like that.

° Always texting you when you aren't together.

° A loooot of pictures of him or whatever he's doing in the moment. Selfie, airplanes pics, clothes pics. "My new baby" (and it's a picture of his new shoes).

° Voice message singing a romantic song.

° Beach dates. You two holding hands and vibing to the sound of the sea.

° "Open your mouth" and then he would just feed you as a baby.

° Matching clothes and cellphone cases.

° Asks for your opinion about something he wants to buy.

° It doesn't matter what you do or what you say, "you're so beautiful" is always coming out of his mouth and it's about you.

not just a distraction — park seonghwa

in which it’s too easy for the new literature professor to pick a favourite.

literature professor!park seonghwa x fem!reader. genre. fluff, angst. warnings. LEGAL teacher-student relationship, implies age-gap, an argument, suggestive, nickname (baby, angel, doll, princess). wc. 10.4k. rating. pg-13.

lilo’s notes. this is my comeback yessss~ anyways, this is part 1 of 2 because the next part will have some… fun activities >:) i hope you guys enjoy this, i’m sorry for being so inactive for the past month but i have lots for you guys to look forward to! excuse any errors i did not proofread this.

listening to. training wheels, melanie martinez / angel, kali uchis.

masterlist.

the first class of the new literature course at your campus garnered the attention of quite a few of the students from the arts department.

there was, of course, a literature class that existed before that one, though a few students had been unhappy with it since the introduction of more contemporary works. the classic masterpieces, they thought (including you), should not be bunched together with colleen hoover.

with enough pressure, the faculty were able to introduce a new course; classic literature. the few students unhappy with the initial course switched into this course instead, delighted by the fact they were allowed to keep their previous credits. a completely new teacher had been hired too, stirring anticipation. all you knew of him was his name, given in the description of the course when you signed up.

so you found yourself in one of the many lecture halls, around fifty others surrounding you. when you walked in, the new professor was at the long chalk board at the front, looking down at a book in his hand while the other wrote something down. you tried catching a glimpse of him, but his positioning faced him away.

but from what you could see, he was quite slender. his grey slacks, neatly ironed, were secured around his hips by a thin black leather belt. his white button up seemed a little large, though it complimented him well, tucked into his trousers with the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms elegantly—his blazer, a grey matching his slacks, shucked off and placed around the back of the chair at his desk. you could also see his hair was dark, a slight waviness to it, a little longer in the back.

finding the most convenient seat, you chose to sit in the left-most seat on the second row, next to a girl you recognised but couldn’t remember the name of even if you tried.

you catch a glimpse of professor park glancing down at his watch, prompting you to do the same. nine in the morning, on the dot.

“literature,” he starts, underlining the bold word on the chalkboard before turning around. and you nearly choke at the sight of his face.

he’s handsome, almost impossibly so, and a lot younger than all your other professores. dainty glasses sit atop the bridge of his nose, carefully placed strands of his hair framining his face as he begins pacing in front of the seats, making sure to look at each students individually.

“it’s many things, but at its core, it’s all about the manipulation of language. language, simply put, is food, nourishing literature. and so, with the intricacies of the art, literature becomes one of the sweetest passions known to man. because what is it if not love and hatred and disgust and every indescribable feeling thrown into a melting pot of prose.”

his voice is captivating, making you feel just a little lightheaded as you listen to his passion intently, all precise words and confidence as he paces, his hands clasped behind his back. you’re hanging off his every word, watching as he stops by his desk to place down the chalk.

it isn’t after a few moments that you realise you were admiring his hand, how it moves to elegantly. the way his fingers gently curl around the little white stick is almost artistic in itself.

he turns around, resting his hips against the edge of the mahogany desk behind him, legs crossed at his ankles and arms crossed over his chest. his eyes scan the room as he continues speaking, occasionally locking with yours. “is it not poetic? how morphemes, for example, or adjectives or conjunctions are the morsels of literature, small parts that are put together to create meaning? of course, something may be described in one word, but there’s something quite magical about being more metaphorical, more intimate.”

he catches you leaning forward in your chair slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips at how captivated you look before he schools his expression. but his focus is quickly redirected when another student raises his hand.

“yes?” professor park pushes himself off the desk, clasping his hands behind his back.

“professor,” he begins—you recognise him as a jock that calls himself dylan, but you know it’s not his real name and he’s probably here to fulfil a requirement to keep him on the volleyball team—his tone incredulous, “don’t you think all this romanticisation of literature is a bit dramatic? we don’t need fancy words to describe everything.”

professor park arches his eyebrow, a soft huff escaping his nose as he took steps in the direction of dyland’s seat. “dramatic? perhaps,” he nodded, eyes fixed on him, “however, as a literature professor, i enjoy the romanticisation of it. my job is to introduce others to the passion that is literature, and therefore i will romanticise it all i wish… what is your name?”

“it’s, uh, dylan?”

his eyebrow quirked once more as he gave the jock a once over, evaluating him. “i see… well, dylan, have you ever felt the rush of emotion when reading something truly spectacular? have you ever read a sentence and felt it like a punch in your chest or a sudden breath of fresh air?”

dylan’s opens his mouth to respond before he is interrupted with a raise if professor park’s palm. “think before you answer, please.”

you nearly laughed at his baffled look, never having seen him so silent, pondering the question for a moment before answering. “well, yes i have.” he answers honestly, earning a nod of approval.

“describe that feeling for me. can you find the correct words to explain the way you felt in that moment?”

dylan tries to explain it the best he can, but your teacher only shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “close, but no. see, it’s difficult putting into words such strong emotions no matter how many synonyms of ‘joyful’ you use.”

he turns away from him to address the rest of the class. “and that is the beauty of literature—it can be used to describe the most indescribable feeling, stringing together individually meaningless words to create something so much more.”

you smile at that, enjoying the link he made. your eyes meet for another moment, a split second that made heat rise to your cheeks under his perceptive gaze. but you blink and his pretty brown eyes are gone.

he takes a moment’s pause, glancing over at the clock in the room before finally addressing the rest of the class again. “i want an assignment from each of you by next class that demonstrates the true beauty of the language we know. it can be anything you feel like writing. a short story, a narrative, an essay, a poem,” his eyes flick over to land on you once again, “i want to see the feeling you want to convey in this written form. and i don’t just mean the happy feelings—get raw and descriptive. write something from the heart.”

the class is dismissed and you pack up your things, heading out but not before trying to catch another glimpse of him in the moving horde of students.

though you hadn’t noticed it, throughout the lecture his eyes lingered on you as well. of course, there were so many students for him to focus on, but none of them seemed quite as captivated as you. judging by the evident fascination on your face as he spoke, he knew you understood every word he said. unlike dylan, apparently.

the next class is on friday, four days away. you take that time or write the assignment. instead of writing a story or a poem, you decide on writing an essay. something where you can really write without the constraints of sticking to a plot. when you’re not in any of your other classes, you’re at your shared house, writing. and if your roommate is being too loud, you take the short bike ride to campus, sitting in your usual corner in the library, also writing.

by the time friday comes around, it’s ready and you’re happy with it, confident in your works as you walk into the lecture hall between some other students. you follow them as they stop at his desk, placing their papers on a stack of other turned in assignments, following suit before sitting at the same seat as last time; far left, second row. this time there’s more people sat at the front, whispering and giggling as they gaze at the professor.

he’s sat at his desk, a similar suit to last like on except a beige colour. his glasses are off and placed on the wooden desk, a book partially obscuring his face as he reads and waits for it to be nine on the dot.

he can vaguely hear the students talking amongst themselves as he reads, but he doesn’t pay it too much mind. it was normal. a lot of his students found him attractive, and that was clear just by the way they talked while he was around. after a while, he glances up at the time, noting it was almost time for class to begin.

he closes his book, setting it off to the side before standing up behind the desk. his hands clasp behind his back.

he glances around the room as more students trickle in and take their seats. he notices you at the second row almost immediately, and he can’t help the small smile that crosses his face. he lets his eyes roam over you for a second before he looks away, noticing the other students chattering in their seats. he clears his throat, loud enough to make them stop and look at him.

“good morning, class.” he says loudly, glancing around once more before resuming, “i’ll be looking over your assignments after class, but for today i’d alike to talk about some literary devices. i know this is classic literature and you’re all expecting to be reading classics, but some groundwork should be set before we jump into analyses. for example, can anyone tell me what a hyperbole is? any guesses?”

he scans the room, as if challenging one of the students to answer. the students in the class are quiet, no one wanting to take the challenge. he hums after a couple minutes and walks around to the front of the desk to lean against the edge of it.

“no one? how about you,” he suddenly says, nodding to you.

you blink, taken aback by the fact he chose you in the sea of fifty-something students. after clearing your throat, you simply say, “an exaggeration, sir.”

he gives a small nod of approval, a smile accompanying it. he expected you to know it, one of the most basic terms in the subject, but could he really be blamed if he just wanted to hear your lovely voice?

“that’s correct. a hyperbole is an exaggeration. it’s also a useful tool in literature to convey specific emotions. i’m sure you’ve come across sentences such as... ‘i could kill him’ or ‘i can’t believe it. this assignment was a literal death sentence.’” he adds the last part in a joking manner, and the few students in the room who were paying attention let out a quiet bout of snickers. he gives you one last small smile before moving on.

he spends the rest of the lesson talking about all sorts of techniques used to enhance literature and the effects they have on the readers. sibilance creates a smooth flow and double entendres are often used to amuse the reader.

nearing the end of the class, he instructs everyone to start on their reading of “the picture of dorian gray” by oscar wilde while he starts going through the turned in assignments. you pull out the book, having borrowed it from the library the other day. you’ve read it before, but it was entertaining enough for you to be willing to read it again, leaning back in your seat comfortably as you flip to the first page.

professor park gets through the first couple of assignments, grading them and adding comments here and there. he finds your essay on the third assignment, and glances up to look at you sitting at your seat, reading so serenely. he takes the time to look you over for a moment before his focus turns to your paper in his hand. he can’t help the slight curiosity as to what you have written, so he begins reading.

he can tell from the quality of the writing alone what kind of writer you were. not like the others, you weren’t rushing with each sentence. no, each word was well thought out, each word placed delicately in the paragraph. it was obvious you had taken the time to write it, and it was obvious that you enjoyed writing even before he finishes reading the introduction. there is passion in the way you laid out your paragraphs. the way it seems so effortless for such words to spill onto your pages.

he finds himself rereading some of the sentences and paragraphs, just to see the way you had worded things. the way you describe how literature can make a person feel could be compared to a piece of art itself. a smile tugs at his lips as he finished reading, having become completely entranced in what you had written. he wanted more, he wanted to read even more of your writing, see more of your passion, more of you. he had expected to have to read through mindless writing but instead he had been surprised by something actually worthwhile.

at the end, he writes a decently-sized comment, a perfect grade circled in his black ink right below.

as he dismisses the class, it takes you a moment to register his words and the people filing out of the hall around you. but once you do, you fold over the corner of the page you’re on and start packing away your items.

as the class is now empty, the only person left in the room besides himself is you. he watches from behind the desk as you pack up your things, noticing the slight hesitation in your movements when you glance towards him. he takes a moment to just watch you before speaking up, his voice firm and clear.

“stay a moment, if you don’t mind.”

you glance up at him before looking around, making sure he was speaking to you before you nod, taking the steps down from the second row to the first, standing at the end of the seats expectantly.

he picks up something from his desk before making his way over to you, his long legs carrying him effortlessly.

he studies your face for a moment, holding up the stapled stack of papers that were your essay. he takes in your features as he speaks, his tone softer now that you’re alone, “you enjoy literature, i take it?”

you glance at the papers before meeting his eyes again, heat rising to your face at the realisation that his full attention was on you. that he was standing so close, just a step away, looking down at you ever so slightly. you give him a nod.

he hums softly in acknowledgement, his eyes looking at your face curiously. he can see the flush of your cheeks clearly, the way you’re keeping your gaze averted from his for the most part.

he glances down at the paper in his hand, tapping it against his fingers gently before looking back at you.

“your assignment. i read it,” he starts, flipping through the pages absentmindedly to keep him from staring at you too long, “it’s quite well written, and i can see the care you put into the language of it. i enjoyed reading it.”

he watches as your eyes queen ever so slightly, a certain sparkle that does not go unnoticed by him; can see the gears turning in your head as you take in his words, your face growing to an endearing mix of shy and embarrassed. he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what he was feeling, couldn’t describe it in any way other than a bloom of warmth in his chest, akin to familiarity.

“oh, thank you, sir.” you smile at him lightly, having been worried you were in trouble and about to be in the receiving end of his scolding.

he hums again, still looking at your face. he can’t help the slight grin that forms on his face as he hears you call him ‘sir.’ he liked the sound of it coming from you. he glances down at the paper again before speaking again, holding the stack out to you.

“i should be thanking you, really. you seem to be the only one to have put some effort into it,” he gave you a soft smile before nodding towards the door, “you may go now, i’ll see you next class.”

you smile and nod, giving him a slight bow before straightening up again. “have a nice day, sir.” and with that you leave, making a beeline to leave campus since you didn’t have anything else to do for the day.

the next time you see him is on monday, in class. he teaches as usual, introducing some context for the book you’re all supposed to be reading. he doesn’t talk to you during the class, though occasionally his eyes find yours and you can’t help but think they soften ever so slightly.

soon enough, you pick up on the fact that you have a similar routine on wednesday evenings. usually, you stay in the campus library for a little longer on those days, whether it’s to read or to work. you like it then because there’s usually barely anyone there, the library big enough for the students that are there to disperse out of each other’s views.

you notice him on your way in, talking to the librarian with a stack of three or four books on the counter. but sometimes you’d see him at a table or couch, or browsing through the shelves. and each time you smile at the sight of him before making your way straight to the second floor, ducking between some bookshelves on the far end to sit in your usual seat.

this may be your favourite spot on campus, maybe the whole city. a little sofa tucked against a big window, two bookshelves—historical fiction—on either side hiding you from the prying eyes of your peers. at this time, the sunlight is just right, a copper glow feeding the two little plants on the windowsill and providing a warmth that felt like a blanket on a cold winter day. it wasn’t too bright, able to look outside without squinting your eyes, enough light to read comfortably. there’s also a little round table that you use to place your laptop on if you need to work, though often you push it aside, favouring to relax on the plush sofa against the soft pillow and get lost in the pages of whatever book you got your hands on.

he’s noticed you there before, on his way to pick up a book from the bibliography section, right next to the historical fiction section where you resided. he soon comes to notice your form among the bookshelves that he passes by, doing a double take before he forces himself to continue along his way. when he finishes the bibliography exactly a week later, he offers to bring it back to its previous spot; in reality, he just wanted to see whether or not you’d be there again.

and sure enough, you were. and he slows down in his movements, looking at the way you’re curled up comfortably in the sofa.

he finds himself watching you silently from a distance for a while, just watching you flip to the next page in your book as you lay comfortably against the pillow, to absorbed in the story to notice him. you look completely at ease there, he finds himself thinking. the sunlight from the window seems to caress your features softly, and a part of him wondered what it would be like to be the sunlight for once, to touch your skin so softly and admire the details of it.

he watches you for a while, taking in your expressions as you turn the pages, before deciding to make his presence known. he takes a step, his leather shoes clunking against the polished wooden floors, “mind if i join you?”

your eyes dart up at the sound of his voice, flinching as you were caught off guard. once his words process, you offer him a smile, nodding as you retract your feet from the sofa to make some space for him. “yeah, of course, professor.”

he smiles warmly at your reply, settling into the newly available space on the sofa. now sitting, he realizes just how small the space is. it’s a two seater, so he ends up sitting very close to you, his side pressed right up to the armrest to prevent from being pressed against you. he glances at your face, noting the small reaction you had when you weren’t expecting him to approach. cute.

he leans back a little to get comfortable on the sofa. it’s quiet between them for a moment, both of them looking outside or at their books. the silence isn’t awkward, he finds. in fact, he quite enjoyed it in such proximity to you. he turns his gaze to watch your face, studying you; the curve of your nose, your lips that are pulled into a frown ever so slightly as you concentrate. his gaze then flicks down, to your sweatpants-clad legs tucked under you on the sofa, and lower to the hand holding the book.

you sit together in silence for a while, reading your respective books. you can’t stop yourself from glancing up at him occasionally, however, just wanting to catch a glimpse of his soft hair or perfect plump lips or the slope of his neck.

but when the sun go too low and the lights too dim and you could barely keep your eyes open, you let out a soft yawn, stretching. he glances up, opening his mouth to say something before his throat suddenly feel to dry to produce any words, distracted by the arch of your back and the curves of your hips. you look so inviting.

“tired?” he manages to force out with a slight chuckle, watching you slump back into your seat. he has the urge to brush away the stray hairs that fall over your cheeks.

you glance at him, nodding as you pull yourself off the couch for one last stretch before gathering your stuff and facing him. “i should probably head home,” you mutter.

“alright,” he pushes himself off the couch, closing his book, “i’ll walk you out.”

too tired to argue and insist he didn’t have to, you just nod, turning on your heels to walk out of the shelves, waiting at the end for him. the walk is silent, holding your breath and heart thumping in your chest each time his fingers brush against the back of your hand as you walk side by side.

this became a new routine. every wednesday, you’d find him or he’d find you, sitting in the little brown leather couch. and you’d stay there together for a while, talking or laughing or working or reading. there was no longer an awkward space separating the two of you, happily resting against each other, far from worried that anyone would see.

neither of you mentioned it, but it was the elephant in the room. you didn’t know what to call it, whatever was happening between you. but it felt good, it made you want to cling to his shirt and bury your face into the warm curve of his neck and never let go. but you couldn’t, no matter how much either of you wanted to.

and as the lines between professor and student blurred, you found yourself looking forward to your wednesdays with him.

and so did he. still, he often thought about how he behaved around you, like it was a secret meant for him and you and you and him.

the way he would find himself sitting closer and closer to you. the way he’d find his gaze lingering on you for too long. the way his mind would wander on how it would feel to run his fingers through your hair, trails them along your thighs. oh, how badly he wants to feel your skin against his own. the idea of what he was doing was dangerous, foolish for someone of his position.

but it’s hard to care when you’re right there next to him, in the soft light that makes your skin glow, your face relaxed and content as you read beside him.

one particular friday evening, it’s pouring, and you’re standing outside under where the roof of the humanities building entrance protruded, protecting me from the rain. this morning you had decided to walk to school instead taking the bike, though you suppose it wouldn’t have been much better with a bike.

your shoes are already wet from the puddle you had accidentally stepped into on your way out, your clothes soaked from having walked into the rain for a minutes as you hug your messenger bag close to your chest.

he’s on his way to his car when he spots you standing by the doorway, and he frowns as he notices you, soaked from the rain that pours mercilessly. he glances around, noticing the lack of anyone nearby thanks to the weather, before making his way towards you.

he stops a few steps in front of you, opening his umbrella to block the rain above both of you. "what are you doing standing out in the rain?"

“i walked to school this morning,” you look from him to the pouring rain, just a step away, “didn’t check the weather.”

he takes you in for a moment, taking in the way your clothes are sticking to you, your hair slightly damp. a small part of him found it quite adorable to see you like this.

"you’re soaked," he says, his voice firm and concerned, "you’re going to get sick like this." as if on cue, a shiver racks through your body. he notices, his expression softening as he takes a step closer, offering his free hand. “come on, i’ll drive you home.”

“oh, you really don’t have to,” you smile at him, grateful at his offer, worried about getting his car wet with your clothes, “i can just wait here until the rain stops.”

his eyes narrow slightly, taking your wrist lightly. "don’t be ridiculous," he scolds, "you’ll freeze to death if i leave you here."

you blink at him, not used to being on the receiving end of his firm tone. his concern making the corners of your lips tug up, you sighed softly, nodding, “alright, lead the way.”

a small smirk pulls at his lips as he watches you relent, giving in to his words. he steps to your side, releasing your wrist and putting a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the parking lot.

he pulls a tissue from his pocket, unfolding it and using it to gently pat your face. you giggle softly at his attempts to dry your face, reaching one of your hands up to take the handkerchief, your fingers brushing against each other before you dry your face yourself, your other hand helping him hold the umbrella in the strong wind, hand a little lower than his on the handle.

he looks at you with a small smile as his hand rests on the umbrella’s handle, moving to cover yours. his hand is a little bigger and warmer than yours. but as he guides you further towards the parking lot, he notices you shivering again, the cold air starting to get to you.

"if you get a cold, it’s your fault." he teases slightly, pulling you closer to his side, making you stumble a little before you regain your footing.

“oh no, i won’t be able to attend your 9 am lecture on monday, whatever will i do?” you gasp dramatically, holding back a laugh as you joke around, instinctively glancing around in case anyone saw. but everyone was gone, rushing home in the midst of the downpour.

he lets out a low laugh at your dramatic response, rolling his eyes playfully at you.

"stop that," he chastises, his hand on your waist keeping you from falling. it was hard to miss the nervous looks your threw around, and he knew exactly why.

“hm?” you glance up at him as he stops in front of what you assume is his car. it’s a black mercedes, sleek and modern. you clasp your hands behind your back, tilting your head, “no idea what you’re talking about.”

he pushes open the passenger door of his car, gesturing for you to get in. he shakes his head slightly with a scoff, his gaze raking down your figure for just a moment.

“sure you don’t,” he says in a slightly teasing tone, “just get in the car, angel.”

you blush lightly at the nickname but shake your thoughts away, looking down at the leather passengers seat before looking up at him again “but i’ll get your seat wet and mess it up.”

it takes him a moment to process your words, distracted by how the flush of your cheeks makes you look even lovelier. the thought that he was able to make you blush like that because of a simple nickname makes him bite back a giddy smile.

he shakes his head. “i’ll take my chances. just get in, you’re shivering.”

you don’t move for a moment, weighing your options; get his seat a little wet, or walk in the rain. deciding the former is obviously the better choice, you thank him silently as you slip into the passenger seat, securing your seatbelt after resting your bag in your lap

he shuts the door behind you and circles the car, walking to the driver’s side. his steps are a little rushed, eager to get out of the rain and into the warmth of the car.

he gets in the car, pulling the door shut behind him before he looks over at you. you sit quietly, your head down and hands in your lap.

it’s silent for a brief moment before he speaks up. “i’m gonna need your address, you know.”

“oh, right.” you hum, leaning forward to the screen on the dashboard to type in your address. it takes some effort, your muscles mostly focused on your legs as you try not to seat my full weight in an attempt to not ruin his seat despite what he said earlier.

he says absolutely nothing, his gaze glued to the arch of your back. he swallows hard, clenching his jaw as he keeps his eyes trained on you, fighting the urge to reach a hand and touch you.

he clears his throat, “just lean back into the seat.”

before you can protest, he’s pushing down on your thigh until you’re fully seated. you give him a playful glare as you finish typing the address. it’s just over a five-minute drive, while walking in this weather would’ve taken you nearly twenty.

he looks at you with a chuckle, his hand still on your thigh, giving it a slight squeeze.

“now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he jokes, giving your thigh a tap before pulling his hand away, turning the ignition on and pulling out of the parking space.

the drive to your place is quiet except for the sound of the rain outside. he has the heat on full blast to keep you warm. every now and then he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

the heat makes you shudder, holding your fingers up to the air to warm them up a bit.

he can’t help as his mind thinks of how cute you look, all bundled up with your bag in your lap. and the urge to touch you, god, the urge to run his fingers through your hair.

“we’re almost there, don’t worry,” he mutters as he tears his gaze away from you.

“hey, um,” you start after a few moments of silence, glancing at him, “if you want, you can come up and we could have some coffee or tea or something together. if my roommate doesn’t mind, which she probably won’t, she’s really nice so i wouldn’t worry. but you don’t have to if you don’t want to! i just, uh, wanna thank you properly… for this.”

he watches with a fond smile as you ramble, stopping at a red light. he’s about to accept the offer, tell you that he’d love to, but the realisation of your roommate being there changes things, his expression turning solemn.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea…” he mumbles, avoiding your piercing eyes.

your brows furrow ever so slightly, a frown threatening to override your features. “why not?”

he swallows, pulling over in front of the address you had typed into the gps.

“i’m your professor,” he starts, his tone firm, “it would be unprofessional if we’re caught.”

he hopes you can’t notice the way he’s gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary.

“that hasn’t stopped you so far, though,” you muse, chuckling lightly despite your confusion of his suddenly change in sentiments, trying to ease the tension.

“but don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious that we’ve been sitting together in the library every week, completely hidden away?” he mutters, “if someone saw us, someone who didn’t know, it would look bad. this could be worse.”

“i thought you liked being there with me…” his words get to you this time, actually frowning as you turn to look out the window instead of at him, noticing you were in front of your house.

shit.

he mentally berates himself upon noticing the slight change in your expression, realizing with a pang of guilt that his words bothered you, having come out the wrong way.

“oh, angel,” he starts, letting go of the steering wheel. his hand reaches for you, and before he can stop himself, it’s cradling your face.

“i do. i like being with you there,” he sighs, gently pulling your face to make you look at him, his thumb caressing your cheek. “you have no idea how much i enjoy it.”

his touch on your face feels warm, and his words even warmer as his directs you to look at him. you don’t say anything.

he’s not used to this, to you being quiet and still. he’s too used to your carefree self being full of jokes and laughter. he doesn’t like you like this, looking at him with disappointment written on your face.

“what i meant is,” he murmurs, the pad of his thumb moving across your cheek to your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes meet his, “i’m just worried about your roommate.”

“i like spending time with you, princess,” he continues, his tone firmer this time, “i like it a lot, alright?”

your frown eases at his words, nodding as you answer in a whisper, “okay.”

he lets out a small sigh of relief, his fingers tracing down from your chin to the side of your neck, and then your collarbone. he gently caresses your skin with the lightest of touch, letting the pad of his fingertip graze your skin.

he tries to ignore the voice in the back of his mind telling him to tug you across the console and kiss you. he shouldn’t.

he shakes himself out of his thoughts, pulling his hand away reluctantly. glancing out the window, he sees your place right in front of him.

“we’re here,” he murmurs, looking back at you. his gaze softens when he sees the remnants of the frown still on your face, and his hand gently reaches out to give your thigh a light squeeze.

“come on,” he says quietly, “let’s go.”

you look out the window before nodding, unbuckling and stepping out, walking to your front door as he accompanies you with an umbrella. you rummage around in your bag, trying to find the keys. groaning as you realise you were in such a rush this morning you must’ve forgotten them in the bowl where you and your roommate place your keys so you don’t lose them. with a sigh, you ring the doorbell, waiting for her to answer.

but she never comes. and that’s when you realise she had the late shift at work today. you groan, frustrated as you thump your forehead against the wooden door.

great, he thinks to himself as he watches you struggle trying to get inside. and then you turn around, with a frustrated sigh, and a thump of the door.

he can’t help but feel like the world is against him. the universe wants to punish him, to test his limits.

he bites the inside of his cheek, watching you and listening to you as you mutter about your locked door.

“i don’t have my keys, my roommate isn’t home,” you explain, kicking the door light before burying your face in your hands, your voice a little muffled, “oh, i’m so sorry, hwa.”

he stands there, watching you explain your situation, and he fights back a smile at your last sentence.

hwa*.*

he likes it when you call him that. spending three months growing closer, you’ve evidently given each other little nicknames.

he glances over at the parked car behind him, before back at you. “do you need a place to stay?” he asks, trying to keep his tone neutral again.

“i don’t wanna bother you too much,” you shake your head, running your hands over your face “please, i can just wait here for her to get back.”

he doesn’t like how you’re trying to push him away. frowning, watching you as you shake your head and run your hands over your face in defeat. he closes the distance between you, taking hold of your wrists and pulling your hand away from your face gently.

“it’s pouring,” he reminds you, “your clothes are soaking wet. and you think you can just sit here on the front porch until your roommate comes back?”

“i don’t want to inconvenience you any more,” you murmur, your hands relaxing as he pulls your wrists away from your face.

his chest tightens at your words, at how stubborn you’re being. he sighs.

“you’re not inconveniencing me,” he insists, “i’d feel better knowing you’re inside with dry clothes and a warm drink than out here soaked to the bone.”

you contemplate his offer for a moment before sighing, nodding, “okay, if you insist.”

his heart nearly skips a beat at your agreement, and it takes all his willpower not to visibly show the relief that washes over him.

he tightens his hold on your wrist for a moment, before gently guiding you back to his car. he opens the passenger door for you, waiting until you get in before he shuts the door and circles around to the driver’s side.

he starts the ignition again, the warm air blasting through the vents yet again. you hold your hands in front of the hot air again, glancing over as you hear his door open and close as he slips. “in is it a long drive?”

he lets out a scoff, looking over to you with a teasing smile. “it’s a whole two minute drive. i’ll try not to bore you too much.”

he turns back to the window, pulling out of the parking spot. the rain starts again, and the sound of it pounds against window before he turns on the wipers.

“oh dear me, i can already feel myself falling asleep,” you slump your head back and pretend to snore, back to being playful.

he turns to look at you, watching your dramatics with a fond grin. “shut up, you,” he says, reaching out to pinch your side gently.

you giggle as he pinches your side, opening your eyes again to look out the window, watching buildings and cars glide past as he drives smoothly. true to his word, just a few minutes later he’s pulling into the underground parking lot of an apartment building.

he parks in front of a spot numbered ‘407’, cutting the ignition as soon as he does.

he glances at you briefly before nodding almost to himself.

“come on,” he says with a jerk of his chin, gesturing for you to follow as he gets out of the car.

his longer strides have him walking faster than usual, and it takes him a conscious effort to slow down for you to keep up.

he presses the ‘up’ button and the elevator doors part within seconds. he steps into the elevator, holding the door open for you to enter.

it’s a silent ride up. his mind is racing, though he doesn’t show it outwardly. his hands are in his pocket, and he keeps his eyes trained on the blinking numbers signifying each floor.

the elevator dings and the doors open and he steps out without looking back to see if you’re following, striding down the hallway, making a turn to a door marked ‘407’.

he fishes for his keys in his pocket, pulling them out before unlocking and opening the door as you look around the empty hallway, your gaze lingering on the mass-produced paintings hanging on the wall that he knows can be seen on every other floor of this building.

the apartment is spacious, with plenty of open floor space for the front room. the color scheme is simple and neat, with a large armchair and a small couch that sits in front of a flat screen tv, as well as a wooden coffee table.

he steps in, taking a moment to kick his shoes off and set his stuff down. he looks over his shoulder, watching you step into the apartment as he places his umbrella in the umbrella rack and hangs up his coat.

you grimace as your shoes squelch when you step in, muttering apologies as you take them off and leave them outside of the door in the hallway instead, not wanting to mess up his flooring.

he raises an eyebrow, watching you as you leave your wet shoes in the hall. he’s about to say something when he’s interrupted by the sound of a small meow.

a ball of black fur appears at his feet, nuzzling against his ankle, and he smiles, scooping the cat into his arms without a word.

he scratches behind the cat's ears as it purrs in his arms, the sound of its soft mews filling the room. he can see a hint of confusion on your face, watching the cat with interest as he holds it, its front paws resting on his chest.

"his name is kuma," he explains, bringing the cat up to his face and letting it rub against his cheek.

you nearly melt at the sight, stepping into the house with wet socks as you coo at the cat, the front door falling shut behind you automatically. “i didn’t know you have a cat.”

he has to physically stop himself from grinning as you nearly swoon at the sight of his cat, covering up his smile with a cough. he shakes his head, lowering the cat gently to the floor. it runs over in your direction, nuzzling against your ankles much like it did to him moments ago, before disappearing down the hallway into the heart of the apartment.

"i got him a couple months back," he says, taking in the sight of your soaked clothes once more. he lets out a sigh, tilting his head toward the hall.

he glances down at your feet, eyeing your soaked socks, before looking back up to your face.

"you can shower if you'd like. I can lend you some clothes to change into," he says, pointing down the hall toward the bedroom.

“oh, yes please,” you nod, relieved that he offered instead of you having to ask.

he nods and starts down the hallway, motioning for you to follow him. as you follow, you look around. just like his car, the design of his apartment is sleek and modern, glowing in warmth as he uses a variety of floor lamps and shelf lamps to light up the interior instead of headache-inducing overhead lights. the furniture and walls are light in colour, a variety of whites and beiges.

it’s an open floor plan, the kitchen and living grouped together, separated by a counter island and some stools. the countertops of the kitchen have a glossy white finish, everything clean. a narrow hallway leads to some three doors, which you assume are his bedroom, a bathroom, and guest bedroom or office.

he stops first in front of a door, where the cat lies on the floor, tail flicking back and forth. he bends down to pet the cat briefly.

"that's the bathroom. the towels are in there. I'm just going to grab some clothes for you," he says, giving you a quick glance before striding away toward the bedroom.

your eyes follow him as he walks away, before letting out a soft yelp at the feeling of something furry wrapping around your ankle. looking down, you realise it’s kuma, giggling as you crouch down to pet him.

he returns a few moments later, taking a moment to watch as you play with his cat so nicely before clearing his throat, making you stand back up as he hands you the stack of clothes.

“feel free to use whatever you need in there,” he nods towards the bathroom door, “you can leave your clothes in the basket, i’ll put them in the laundry later.”

“thank you, hwa.” you grin at him, accepting the clothing before disappearing into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

you shower with warm water, relaxing every muscle in your body as you wash off the rain. without any other choices, you’re left to use his shampoo. it smells of him, a deep vanilla. when you finish, you dry off and change into the clothes he brought, using your own previous undergarments as he obviously didn’t have those on hand.

the clothes are quite large on you, hanging off your body as you tighten the string of the sweatpants. you pat your hair partially dry with the towel before tossing everything in the laundry basket, stepping out to go to the living room.

only to see he wasn’t there. shrugging, you figure he’ll return soon as you flop onto the couch, kuma coming to sit with you after a moment. you sprawl out a bit as you realise just how spacious the couch is, the cat padding all over your body, playing with the drawstrings of the hoodie he gave you before curling up on your stomach.

meanwhile, he’s in the shower of his bedroom’s en-suite bathroom attempting to get himself together, both physically and mentally. the water feels amazing on his skin as it beats down on him, and he tries to relax his muscles as he lathers shampoo in his hair.

but his mind keeps going back to you, and how you’re probably already in his living room.

wearing his clothes.

he sighs, leaning his head against the shower wall as he tries to push those thoughts out of his mind. he stands there for what feels like hours, letting the hot water hit his skin before shutting off the shower and stepping out. he dries himself off, quickly drying his hair enough so that it’s not dripping all over his floor before he getting in record time, pulling on an old pair of sweats and a loose black shirt.

he takes another deep breath, opening the bathroom door as he ruffles his damp hair. he starts to make his way toward the living room, hoping that you’re just as nervous as he is.

he turns the corner and enters the living room, nearly freezing in his place at the sight of you sitting on the couch with kuma. you look good. comfortable.

by the time he makes it back, you’d be kuma are no longer sitting calmly, practically rolling around on the couch as you try to get away from the playful punches of his paws. he feels his heart flutter at the sight and the sound of your laughter.

there’s just something about seeing you getting along with his cat that makes his heart nearly skip a beat. he silently watches from the hall for a moment, just gazing at the two of you playing together before clearing his throat to make his presence known.

you look up at the sound, grinning at him stupidly. you glance at his clothes, noting that he’s wearing comfortable clothes now rather than his usual suits. “oh, hey,” you say between giggles as kuma continues to jump all over you.

his heart stutters at the sight of your grins and the sound of your giggles, at the joyful look on your face. he swallows, forcing his arms to cross over his chest to keep himself from reaching out and pulling you against him.

trying to appear nonchalant even though he’s having a hard time doing so, he walks over to the couch, standing at the end of the coffee table and looking down at you.

“seems like you’re having fun together,” he remarks with a slight nod towards kuma.

“uh huh,” you nod before squealing, covering your face as kuma’s paws swat against your cheek, attacking you, your stomach hurting from laughing.

he lets out a scoff, watching kuma pawing at you and your failed attempts to shield your face from the attacks. he can’t help but let a small smile settle on his face, his heart fluttering again at the sight of you two.

“he’s playing rough,” he comments with a smile, walking to the couch and plopping down beside you.

you crawl over to his other side, hiding your face under his arms as kuma chases, “help me, hwa.”

his heart skips a beat as you hide under his arm, ducking away from the harmless kitten. he can’t help but laugh, finding the situation both endearing and adorable.

“I think you can handle kuma, doll,” he teases, grinning down at you as you continue to use him as a human shield.

“he’s a beast,” you try to sound serious, your voice muffled against his sleeve as kuma starts attacking him instead.

“he’s not that bad,” he teases, grabbing the cat by his little body and lifting him up in front of his face, “see? look at this face. he’s not even one bit menacing.”

“that’s the face of evil!” you exclaim, sitting up and placing the back of your hand on your forehead to fall into his lap dramatically, feigning death, my body draped over his thighs faced down.

he looks down at you as you go limp against him, and he can’t help but laugh at your antics.

“don’t be so dramatic,” he grins. he lets kuma go, watching as he climbs down your combined bodies to muzzle against your cheek before moving away to curl up in his usual spot in the corner of the couch. “i think he’s gonna end up liking you more than me.”

“good,” you hum, closing your eyes and relaxing in his lap, forearm under your chin so it doesn’t dig into his legs.

he rolls his eyes jokingly, resting his hand on your back and tracing down your spine, “very funny.”

you chuckle at his response, sighing softly, content where you are. in the privacy of his home, you’re not scared of being affectionate, especially not as his hand traces down to rest against the small of your back, eliciting a faint shudder.

his heart hammers in his chest as his hand trails further down to the back of your thigh, the feeling of your plump flesh beneath the fabric, under his touch igniting something in him. he has to remind himself to breathe, trying to control the rush of blood that is steadily flowing downward.

enjoying the feeling of his hand kneading the back of your thigh, you go a little silent before turning to look up at him, a question that’s been balancing on the top of my tongue for three months finally spilling out.

“hwa… what exactly are we? what is this?” you point between the two of you as you mutter the question.

his hand freezes the second he hears it. he’s been avoiding that question since the two of your really started seeing each other every wednesday months ago, but he knows he can’t anymore. not when it’s thrown straight at his face.

he takes a deep breath, avoiding your gaze for a moment. he lets the silence sit for a few more seconds as he considers his answer, then looks down at you.

“i don’t know,” he mutters, his hand moving to rest on your waist, “i’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

“well, what is this to you then?” you ask softly, sitting up to be eye level with him, kneeling beside him.

the question sounds more demanding coming from you face to face, eye to eye, and his heart is beating fast enough that he fears you can hear it. he swallows, looking into your eyes.

“a distraction,” he mutters, his gaze flitting to your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes, preparing his next words.

but before he can continue, you visibly deflate at his answer, sitting back as i nod. a distraction. “i see,” you tear your gaze away from him, getting up, making his hand drop from you, “i’m gonna go to bed, wheres the guest room?”

he feels his heart twist at the sight of you leaving his touch, a dejected look on your face.

he’s never seen you back off so quickly before. not like this. he watches you get up and stand over him, a step too far for him to reach for you agajn, his heart tightening in his chest.

“wait, doll-“ he starts, reaching out to take your hand.

“what? you said what you said.”

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters, his tone firmer. he stands up from the couch, towering over you. he holds a hand out to you. “come here, please.”

“then how else could you possibly mean it,” you scoff lightly, eying his hand but not taking it.

“listen, doll,” he mutters, holding back a huff of frustration. “you can’t seriously think that I would call this a distraction,” he gestures between the two of you. “a distraction. you really think that you are just a distraction to me?”

“well is that not what you said?” you mutter, trying to prevent your lips from trembling as a lump latches itself onto your throat.

he lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. he reaches out and grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him. he can feel the tension in your body, and he hates it. he hates himself for causing it.

“you didn’t let me finish. i didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters, looking directly into your eyes, resting your hands in his chest. “you’re not just some random, meaningless distraction to me.”

your fingers flex slightly as he holds them up to his chest, right over his heart, “then tell me how you really feel about me if i’m not a distraction”

he looks into your eyes, holding onto your wrists firmly but gently, his thumbs rubbing against your skin, the inside of your wrists.

he’s never seen you like this before. this vulnerable and open in front of him. he can feel the tension in your body, the stiffness in your shoulders and the tightness in your jaw.

he wants to smooth out those frowning lines on your face, erase that look of uncertainty in your eyes.

“you’re more than just a distraction to me,” he mutters. “you’re an obsession. you’re all i think about, doll. i think about you constantly. i don’t know how else to describe it other than an obsession,” he continues, his voice getting softer as he speaks. “i can’t shake you. you’ve gotten in my head and you’ve been living in there rent free for months and you refuse to get out. even when i try to ignore you,” he lets out a scoff, looking into your eyes, “even when i pretend to ignore you, you’re still there. you don’t leave my mind.”

his heart races as the words spill out of his mouth, like there’s a dam bursting inside of him. the feelings that he’s been bottling up for months finally coming out, and he doesn’t want to stop, letting those words tumble out and onto you. he can see that you’re listening intently, that you’re listening intently as his grip on your wrists tightens, almost as if he’s scared that you’re going to run away from him.

“you’ve got me so distracted i can barely focus on anything that doesn’t involve you,” he admits in a low voice, glancing down at your wrists. “i can’t even teach my own goddamn class without thinking about you.”

you’re speechless, even as he finishes, staring up at him with wide dumbfounded eyes, feeling his hammering heart beneath your fingertips just as how he feels yours under his as his thumbs continue to rub the inside of your wrists.

you suppose you can always rely on a literature professor for an extravagant, dramatic confession.

he continues to hold onto you. he’s never seen you this speechless and dumbfounded before, and he’s torn between how good it feels to see you like this and how bad it things could go now that his feelings were out.

he swallows, looking down at your wrists. he can feel your pulse point under his thumb. “say something, angel,” he murmurs, a pleading tone in his voice.

instead, you pull your hands out of his grip to wrap them around his neck, pulling him down, placing your lips against his urgently, your eyes falling shut.

his heart hammers in his chest as he kisses you back, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you against him, his fingers curling into your hoodie. he wants to kiss you forever, wants to make up for all those months of holding back, but his lungs are burning from the lack of air and he’s forced to pull away to breathe.

he lets out a sigh, his forehead falling to the crown of your head. his hands stay on you, still holding you against him. he can still feel your heart racing against his chest.

“that was your idea of saying something?”

“uh huh,” you hum, chuckling softly as you thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, mind full of him. seonghwa, seonghwa, seonghwa.

he closes his eyes as he feels your fingers, enjoying the feeling of your fingertips against his scalp. he still has his arms around you, unwilling to let go yet. he leans down just enough to press a kiss to your temple, his lips brushing softly against your skin.

“but seriously,” you snicker, pulling away from him a little “i am kinda tired, wheres the guest bed?”

he almost lets out a whine when you pull away from him, opening his eyes reluctantly. he looks down at you, a frown on his face.

“you’re really gonna go sleep by yourself?” he mutters, an almost petulant tone in his voice as he quirks his brow.

“is that not what i’m supposed to do?“

“you really think i’m going to let you sleep alone after… that? come on now, you’re not that dense.”

“i know, i just wanted you to say it,” you giggle after a moment, grinning up at him as you lean down to scoop up kuma from the couch.

he lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes, but he’s unable to hide the small smile of his own. he reaches out and ruffles your hair, letting out a scoff. “you’re insufferable.”

“and you just said you’re obsessed with me,” you shrug, kissing his cheek as his hand find the small of your back, leading you don’t the hallway, “where does the kitty sleep?”

he looks down at kuma, still curled up in your arms, practically purring himself to death. “baby, he’s a cat. he’ll sleep wherever he wants.”

you snort, setting him down on a little armchair in the corner of his room, next to some bookshelves stacked with books upon books, and more books. you lean down to pet him a few more times as seonghwa watches you with a fond smile.

he watches you as he sits on the bed, his heart clenching at how good you look in his bedroom. it feels almost surreal, having you here in his home. he pats the spot next to him.

“get over here, baby.”

networks. @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl

@likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd

@coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf @okdudeiime

Good Girl

Seonghwa X Reader

WC : 1.3K

TW : Brat reader, Daddy Hwa, Daddy kink, name calling (good girl, whore, slut) Punishment (spanking) Unprotected ( dont be silly wrap it up ) Cream pie

Based on my head cannon - Ateez; who's a dom, sub or switch?

"I don't know who's worse you or Woo" Seonghwa seethe's as he pulls you through the door of your shared apartment. You cant help but giggle at him, even though you knew it was a bad idea. Just like you knew it was a bad idea to tease him through San's birthday dinner but you couldn't help it. You and Wooyoung made a bet who could get Seonghwa the most flustered and mad and its safe to say that when you slipped your hand up his thigh to his crotch you won. 

Seonghwa figured out what was going on fairly quickly, after you gripped his semi hard cock through his pants making his leg jerk and hit the table, Woo called you out for not playing fair, to which you just laughed. "Oh you think it's funny" He asked you now, stopping in the middle of the living room. "No Hwa, not funny" you said with a shit eating smile on your face. His large hand coming up to grip your chin "Its not at all" he says in a very stern tone. His eyes quickly shift to your mouth still held in a small smirk between his fingers. "I think you need to be taught a lesson" 

Before you can protest you are being picked up, Seonghwa has you over his shoulder as he makes his way to the couch. "Hwa put me down!" you beat on his back gently not putting up much of a real fight. He eventually puts you down before he sits down on the couch. You barley have a moment to get your legs under you before you are pulled down onto his lap on your stomach. "Hwa please, I'll be good" you try and plead as he is pushing your dress up over your ass. You are internally cursing yourself for wearing a thong tonight. Your ass on full display to him.

"You should have thought of that before you wanted to grab my cock in the middle of dinner" he says, his hand absentmindedly running across your pale skin, sending shivers up your spine. "Its going to be a week before I'm able to look Joong in the face" You scoffed at this, you knew dang well they all bragged to each other about the crazy shit that happened in their bedrooms. Before you could make a comment stating so you felt the crack of his hand meeting your bare skin. The sound coming out of your mouth a mix of a yell and a whimper. Not long after the first came a second and a third. You could feel the welts forming on your skin. Tears sprang to your eyes on the third slap.

"You think it's so fun to be a brat. Being a little whore, had to grab my cock at dinner couldn't even wait till be got in the car" a fourth slap meets your skin. At this point he has his other hand holding your lower back to keep you in place as you cry out in pain at each slap. Your face streaked with tears. "Please Haw pleaseee ow Stop please" you cry as the 5th smack came down. "Good girls take their punishment, are you my good girl or no?" He asks gently rubbing your skin now, soothing a bit of the sting he caused. "Yes" you let out in a sob. "Yes what" he asks as he lifts his hand again. "Yes Daddy" you cry out as another slap is delivered "That's my girl" his hands coming down now to massage your tender skin. 

Before you know it you feel his fingers dip low between your legs, gliding along the your cloth covered slit. You know your panties are soaked, his punishments always turning you on. You hear the low groan he releases from deep in his throat. "You were such a good girl for me" he says as one hand grips the band of your underwear pulling it to the side, exposing you to the cool air. His other hand coming up to cup your dripping core. His finger sliding back and forth over your entrance teasing you. 

"Please Hwa, Iv been good" you plead, trying to push your hips back onto his hand. Before you can give any real effort your being handled again. He's pulled you up and has you straddling his waist. His hands coming up to cup your tear stained face. "My precious baby girl" he coos at you while he swipes away your tears. "You took your punishment so well. Such a good girl. You learned your lesson right?" 

You shake your head up and down yes. The smile that spreads across his face at this warms your heart. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips "I think you deserve a reward my love, you did so good for me" again you shake your head yes enthusiastically. His hands sliding down to your hips, as his mouth attaches to your neck. Your hands find purchase on his shoulder as he begins to drag your body over the bulge in his pants. The only sounds filling the room are your needy whines and the sound of Seonghwa's mouth on your skin. 

"Hwa please" you begin to plead. "That's not how we ask for things is it princess" he mumbles against your skin. "Please Daddy" you whine, looking down at the large wet spot you have left on his grey sweats. "Just cause you asked so sweetly" he smiles again, his hands going to the waistband of his pants and pulling them down just enough to free his hard cock. The sight of which makes your mouth water. Before you know it he has one hand on your hip the other pulling your panties to the side as he positions you over his leaking tip. 

Ever so slowly you sink down on him, the burn of the stretch elating a moan from you. It takes a minute before you can fully take him, your clit snug against his pelvis. You cant help but let out little whimpers as you adjust. "Shhh its okay pretty baby, Daddies right here" he says as he brushes the hair back from your neck, one hand gently gripping the back of your neck. Before long he has you grinding against him, your clit dragging against his skin, the tip of his cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside you only he could. It's not long before your first release crashes over you. Your walls contracting around him, making him moan out. 

"That's a good girl" he kisses your mouth "Daddies going to fuck you now baby" he mumbles against your lips. His hands coming to a bruising grip on your waist as he starts to hoist you up before bringing you back down on his cock. Your head is thrown back as the dirtiest sounds escape your parted mouth. Before long he is using his legs to help thrust up into your core. The wet sounds, mixed with both of your moaning the only thing to be heard. "Cum one more time for me baby" he coo's at you while he hammers away "Give daddy one more" One of his hands snakes down and his skilled fingers quickly find your clit, rubbing small circles into your throbbing nerve. 

You're quickly thrown over the edge again, walls forming a vice grip on his cock as he hurried it deep inside of you. A few seconds later he lets out the pretties moan you have heard as you feel the tip of his cock twitch inside you, paining your walls white. You collapse forward, your head nuzzling into the side of Seonghwa's neck as you pant out. You feel his hands running along your back, pushing your hair out of your face "That's my girl" he says as he kisses the top of your head "That's my good girl"