#and then all of a sudden it was. So Much Text

[taeghi]

FAST LANE

his criminal background profile || his insta

sunghoon has a need for speed, and yn has a knack for getting under his skin— now they're playing a dangerous game, and the stakes? so much higher than they expected.

pairing : car thief!sunghoon x sarcastic!yn

genre : smut, light humour?? idk angst

wc : 12k.

part of the criminal love series

minors DO NOT interact!!!!

you swing open the backdoor of the club and it hits the brick wall behind it, but you don’t care. you just want to get the hell out of there. you huff and pull out your pack of cigarettes, putting it in your mouth and lighting it. 

when the nicotine enters your lungs, you start to feel a little less overwhelmed. 

you pull out your phone, briefly looking over all your unanswered texts that you’ve sent to your friends. they had begged you to come out with them tonight, but within the first hour all three of them had ditched you for some random guys. 

“fuck this weekend,” you mutter to yourself, exhaling the smoke frustratingly. 

the backdoor of the club leads to a practically deserted street that only has one street lamp that lights up the space around you.  you open the uber app and call one for yourself, wanting to just go home and go to bed. you can hear the slight thump of the bass from the music in the club behind you and some traffic from the nearby streets. you confirm your ride after you sigh at the price of it. 

then, a sudden movement in your peripheral vision takes your attention away from worrying about your bank account to looking across the street. you see a figure in all black hunched over a parked, black car. you can tell from his movements that he’s obviously trying to pick the lock. 

you glance both ways down the street to see if anyone else is seeing what you’re seeing, but it’s just as dead as it was when you came out. there’s no one around except for you and this apparent car thief. 

“you’re joking,” you mutter, the cigarette between your lips wobbling as you speak. 

you take a moment to consider your options. you know you should just ignore him and wait for your uber to take you to your warm bed. but the way he’s so obviously picking the lock of this car annoys you. 

you huff in frustrations before you take the first step off the club’s step and walk across the street to the thief in all black. 

“you know, breaking into cars is illegal,” you say, loud enough for him to hear you. he doesn’t let go of the car handle as he turns to look at you. 

he gives you a once-over, basically judging your appearance with not a hint of shame. a small grin spreads across his face, “oh really? thanks for the legal advice, counselor.” 

you can’t help but contort your face into one of disgust at his response. you cross your arms over your chest as you stay put. the man seems so casual and confident about breaking into this car with you standing right there. he seems almost amused by your presence. 

“well i’m just saying, if you’re gonna break into a car, maybe make sure no one else is around.” 

he doesn’t say anything but he laughs lowly as he finally pops open the car’s lock. he swings open the door and leans on it with an accomplished expression on his face. his stance allows the distant street light to gleam over his face, letting you get a better look of his face. his sharp jawline, deep brown eyes and moles make him insanely hot. 

“you should get out of here, sweetheart,” he says honestly, “a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be caught up at a crime scene.” 

you scoff, not believing the criminal is telling you what to do, “i can do what i want.” 

his face only stays in his amused expression, “well of course,” he spins and bends down to sit in the driver’s seat, “but you know smoking cigarettes is bad for you.”

your lips curl in annoyance from his mocking. before you can say anything else to the criminal, he’s slamming the door shut and throwing the car into drive. he winks at you through the window before he steps on the gas, taking off down the street. 

suddenly, a honk from behind startles you and forces you to turn around. your uber is pulled over, the driver calling you over. you whip your head back around to see the car thief, but his fast car is long gone. 

you huff and walk to your uber, getting in the backseat and saying hello to the driver. you settle into the seat as your driver pulls off the curb and you notice the way your skin is pringling. the adrenaline rushing through you causes your heart to stutter in your chest. all you can think of is the thief and the way he was so nonchalant and confident throughout the entire encounter. you had never met someone like him before. 

you try to relax, wanting to shake off the adrenaline so you can crawl into bed as soon as you get home.

you didn’t even want to go out tonight in the first place. 

the next week, your friends had somehow dragged you to another club with the promise of  “this one will be better”. you’re not there for long and you’re already regretting agreeing to come. you head to the bar for another drink. 

you tell the bartender your order and he turns to start to make it. you notice a man standing beside you, and when you look at him, you instantly recognize him. it’s him. the car thief from the week before. the man you’ve been thinking about all week. 

his eyes find yours instantly, noticing your staring, and the smirk you’ve memorized spreads slowly across his face, “so… you’re stalking me now?”

you snort, “in your dreams.” 

he leans  in closer to you, to make sure that you can hear him over the music, “well i wouldn’t mind dreaming about you.” 

you choose to ignore him, “aren’t you worried i might, i don’t know… spill your little car-stealing secret?” 

“no”

“and why not?” 

you watch as his eyes scan your entire face, and then swivel down to your body. you feel your cheeks lighten because of him practically analyzing your entire being with no shame. 

“that’ll be eight bucks,” the bartender's voice beats you to saying anything. before you can reach for your wallet, the thief is dropping the money on the counter. you open your mouth to stop him, but the bartender scoops up the money and leaves to serve another customer. 

“y/n! what’s taking so long? come dance with me!” your friend’s impatient voice is clear in your ear as her hand lands on your shoulder and spins you around to face her. you turn your head back around to where the thief was standing, but of course, he’s already gone. 

your friend narrows her eyes, “who was that guy?” 

“i don’t know… but he bought me a drink.” 

your friend nudges you, wiggling her eyebrows, but you just laugh her off. you lead her back to your friend group so you can all dance again. but throughout the whole night, you find yourself glancing over your shoulder, searching for a glimpse of the car thief in the crowd. he never reappears, and you’re left with a weird mix of disappointment and relief. 

after all, he is a criminal, why would you be looking for him?

“night guys!” you call out to the rest of your coworkers, who have to stay late to clean the kitchen. 

you had to stay late at work tonight since saturday nights are usually the busiest time for you. so when you step out into the cool night air and away from the sweaty kitchen, you instantly need to light up a cigarette to take the edge off. you tuck your apron into your purse as you take the first puff for your walk home. 

you don’t get far into your smoke or walk before you hear the engine of a car pull up beside you. you don’t recognize the car, but you sure enough recognize the driver. his cocky grin fills his entire face as he leans on his elbow against the open window. 

“really? you stalking me now?” you question him as he slows down the car, matching your walking pace. 

“want a ride? or are you just gonna walk all night?” 

you don’t slow down, keeping your walking pace steady as you drag on your cigarette. you’re trying your best to not look so affected by his presence. “i can walk. unlike you, i don’t need a stolen car to get places.” 

he laughs and it makes your stomach flip. “okay, but this one isn’t stolen, sweetheart.” 

your eyes narrow at the pet name, but you don’t slow down your pace, “yeah, right.” 

“seriously!” he insists, “it’s my friends! he let me borrow it!” you glance at him, and he can tell you’re not convinced. “i swear! i wouldn’t let you get in a stolen car.” 

the last part makes something shift inside of you– something similar to disappointment. but you stop walking, mid-step, like your body’s decided before your mind has even begun to process it. 

he notices, and the car comes to a smooth stop right beside you. the street is silent, and it’s just you and him looking at each other, waiting. 

“okay, let me in.” 

he doesn’t hesitate to reach over the centre console and open the door for you at your request. 

you slide into the passenger seat and settle in, the car’s leather seats are cool beneath– but it’s a lot warmer in the car than it is outside. you shut the door, and without missing a beat, the thief shifts gears and pulls away from the curb. the city lights flicker past you as the car picks up speed quickly. 

you direct him towards your apartment as he tears down the streets. you wish he wouldn't drive so fast, just so that you could stay beside him longer. 

“so, why’re you walking so late at night anyways, don’t you know it’s dangerous?” he says, questioning you. 

“i got off work late.” 

“where do you work?” 

“ronnie’s,” you say, gesturing down the street behind you, “you know, down the block.” 

he nods, he knows the exact place. 

“why are you driving around so late?” you question him now. 

he shrugs, “had stuff to do.” 

“like what? stealing cars?” 

he laughs over the steering wheel, “no, not tonight. i had to pick up a payment for one.” you roll your eyes and scoff, turning to look out the window again. “what? you were the one who asked.” 

you don’t say anything in response. you’re second guessing as to why you even got in the car with him. you know that he’s bad news– but you’ve been so intrigued by him since you first met. he talks too casually about what he does, he’s completely fearless. 

“so, why do you steal cars, anyways?” 

he doesn’t need to think about his answer, he keeps the  fast speed of the car  as he answers, “because i need the money. and it’s a lot of money, and it’s quick.” 

you glance over at him, your curiosity creeping in about him and the cars. you wonder how much money he gets. “how do you even do it?” 

he glances at you, a doubtful look on his face, “i’m not telling you.” 

“why not?” 

the criminal doesn’t shift his focus from the road as he smirks, “because you’d get caught– and you shouldn’t always be in dangerous situations.” 

you scoff, “i am not always in a dangerous situation.” 

he dryly chuckles as he rests his elbow on the window, his head falling to his arm, “are you forgetting that you i met you because you walked up to me while i was literally committing a crime?” 

your mouth gaps open but nothing comes out. you can’t find anything to say, so you instead cross your arms tighter and look back out the window. you don’t mean to be in “dangerous” situations, but you can’t help but crave something new and adventurous sometimes. 

the rest of the drive to your apartment is silent besides the low volume of the radio playing some song you don’t know. thankfully, since he’s speeding, so you get to your apartment quickly so you can get out of this awkward hell. part of you wants to run out of the car as soon as he stops, but the other part of you wants to stay with him for longer. you want to talk with the man who’s been taking up your mind for weeks now. 

but, when the car slows to a stop outside of your apartment, your hand is quick to reach the door handle. you look at him, not knowing exactly what to say besides, “thanks.” 

he smirks at you, “just, stay out of trouble, sweetheart.” 

“my name is y/n! stop calling me that.” 

the thief’s smile turns into a mischievous smile and you hate that it makes your heart skip a beat, “i’m sunghoon.” 

sunghoon. the name rings in your head. you hadn’t expected him to have such a soft name. you can’t decide if it suits him or not. you stand up out of his car and onto the sidewalk. 

“good night, y/n.” 

“night, sunghoon.” 

you turn and head to the front door of your apartment building. you don’t hear the loud screech of the car’s tires until you’re safely inside.

you’re walking home from your friends house, your lighter is almost out of fuel as you try to light your cigarette. the lit cigarette lights up your face in the dark night. you pass by the city’s old car dealership– the one who’s always trying to sell some broken down car– and you see the all too familiar figure in all black, hunched over a black sedan. 

you smirk around your cigarette, shaking your head as you cross the empty street and duck through the gate of the dealership. 

“really?” you ask, your hand on your hip as you watch him jump slightly. he glances over his shoulder in shock, but once he realizes it’s you, you can see his whole body relax. 

“why’re you here?” 

“because i saw you.” 

he rolls his eyes as he goes back to picking the sedan’s lock, “you’re not helping me jack this car, y/n.” 

you can’t hide the annoyed pout on your face, “who said i wanted to?” 

you hear sunghoon chuckle deeply, his attention on the lock as he speaks, “because i can tell you want to. and beside the fact that you’re still standing here while i commit a crime and you’re not screaming for help.” 

“well, i can scream for help if you want me to.” 

sunghoon glances over his shoulder at you, an annoyingly amused smirk on his face, “you wouldn’t dare.” 

your eyes narrow in response, you don’t like how he can seemingly always look right through you. it’s like he knows that all week, the thought of the large amount of money you could make by stealing one car has kept you up at night. how just one theft could change your financial life, just for a bit. money has always been tight for you, you’ve always lived paycheck to paycheck since you were a child. so, stealing one car with him wouldn’t hurt anyone, but it would help your wallet. 

then, a loud bang echoes through the dealership. it makes both you and sunghoon jump back as it cuts through the quiet night. 

“who’s out here? you better leave!” an angry, male voice yells out to the parked cars. 

before you could react, sunghoon is pulling  you down to the pavement with him, using the sedan to cover yourselves from the man’s view. you glance at sunghoon, who only brings his index finger to his mouth to signal for you to stay quiet. his hand is still on your wrist as you both crawl to the passenger side of the sedan. 

you can feel your heartbeat pick up it’s pace as you hide, pressed up against the sedan’s cool metal. you’re sure your eyes are blown out in fear. sunghoon looks the complete opposite of you. his eyes are steady and his hands are shaking like yours are. your heavy breaths make sunghoon look at you, quickly covering your mouth with his warm hand. 

you hear footsteps approaching your position, rocks rolling as the man’s foot kicks them with his steps. and then– a metallic click. a gun. 

if it wasn’t for sunghoon’s hand over your mouth, you think you would’ve screamed. you stay quiet, your eyes locked on sunghoon’s clam ones ass you listen to the man’s footsteps. they seem tomove farther away from the sedan. sunghoon pulls his hand away from you, “stay here.” 

before you could protest, he slips around the car, leaving you alone against the car, imagining what would happen if the man with the gun catches you. you force yourself to be quiet, waiting for anything to happen, telling yourself that sunghoon’s got it under control. 

then, the passenger door by your head clicks open. sunghoon is in the car, waving his hand for you to get in, “quick.” with no hesitation, you jump inside the car, closing the door after you as quiet as possible. you duck down, trying to hide against the seat. sunghoon is working underneath the steering wheel– until the engine comes to life, breaking any silence that was left in the dealership. 

“hey! what do you think you’re doing?” the man’s voice is louder and even more angry as sunghoon steps his foot on the pedal, causing the car to rush forward. sudden gunshots make you flinch as sunghoon drives forward, ripping through the gates and floors it onto the empty streets. you can’t count how many gunshots you heard, they kept firing after the car until finally the dealership was out of sight. your grip on the door handle beside you makes your knuckles turn white. 

the car’s speed scares you as sunghoon swerves through the city. he keeps switching his attention from the street in front of him to you beside him. 

“are you okay? are you hurt?” his voice comes out as frightened and rush, the first time you’ve seen him like this. 

“i’m fine, i’m fine! just– drive!” you force it out so he can focus on driving and getting you the hell out of there. 

sunghoon nods and steps on the gas some more, speeding through the city. you can barely see anything out the window from how fast sunghoon is driving– only flashes of the lights from the street lamps and stores. he’s quick to leave the city, driving down dirty country roads where the lights turn into tall dark trees. 

sunghoon stops the car when a break in the trees is found. he pulls the car into it and you can see the entire city below you. everything is quiet now that you’re away from the city. he cuts the engine. 

your chest is still heaving from the adrenaline when you look over at him, his eyes looking at yours at the same time. when you look at him, the mood in the car changes from panic to relief. relief that you got away, that sunghoon got away safely.

you’re the first one to let out a little chuckle, realization starting to take over. but then sunghoon cracks his own smile,  a laugh following soon after. then, the car is filled with both of you losing it, your eyes squinting from laughing so hard in realizing what had just happened. the adrenaline rush has turned from fear into excitement. 

before you can even think, your hands cup his face, pulling him into you. your lips impulsively kiss his, feeling his warm ones on your cold ones. but then, your face starts heating up in embarrassment when you’ve realized what you’ve done. you practically jump away from him, pressing yourself up against the passenger door behind you. 

“sorry, sorry! i was just—,” you stutter, trying to find an explanation, “i mean, we just got away! and i was so happy that—” 

before you could finish your ramble, sunghoon leans over the centre console and presses his lips back onto yours. this kiss is more certain and confident than yours. his eyes are closed as his lips work against yours, and yours soon follow once the shock has faded. 

sunghoon pulls away slightly, his forehead resting on yours as his dark eyes look into yours. you can tell that his breathing is heavier than usual, like his composure has finally dissipated. you can only stare back at him, your eyes shifting from his eyes to lips that you want to feel again so badly. 

“what… what’re you doing?” you ask him, not expecting his reaction. 

your breath hitches when you feel his hands move to your face, his thumb brushing over the top of your cheek. he’s so close to you, you can hardly think. he murmurs quietly, “you make me lose all control, y/n.” you can tell from his eyes that he’s being honest– and it scares him and you. “everytime i’m around you, or even look at you… i have to remind myself to focus.” 

his forehead is still resting on yours as he speaks. you’re sure he can hear how quick your poor heart is beating. “sunghoon,” you say his name but that’s all that comes out. 

he smirks at your lack of words, his thumb tracing along your jaw, “you’re way too good for me, sweetheart,” he lets his eyes close as he finishes the sentence, “but i need you so bad.” 

“are you… are you serious?” 

sunghoon chuckles softly, “of course i am,” his fingers brush back the strand of hair on your face, “i’ve wanted you since the first time i saw you— but, i shouldn’t be allowed to want you. i’m not good for you.” 

you see the way his eyes tense at his confession, his jaw tightening. “you can want me, sunghoon. i want you too, so much.” 

he lets out a slow breath, his hands sliding down your body and around your waist, “if we start this, y/n, id ont think i’ll be able to stop.” his voice is full of longing and precaution. 

“then don’t.” 

your lips meet again almost instantly— the final strand holding sunghoon back breaks. the kiss is much rougher than the last two, setting the pace for the rest of the time you have in the stolen car. 

“you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” sunghoon’s deep voice asks, his hot skin warm against yours. you want to respond, but he’s quick to gather your lips in his again. he doesn’t hesitate to push his tongue inside your mouth. he starts exploring your mouth, and you let him. wanting to taste him just as much as he wants to taste you. 

sunghoon’s hand starts to slide down your neck, making you shiver. he tugs at the bottom of your shirt before he lifts it so it pools at your neck, making your breasts exposed. his fingers hurriedly brush against your newly bare skin. you’ve wanted this for such a long time, every movement of his leaves you squirming with anticipation. you’ve thought about this man every night since you’ve met him in that empty street all those weeks ago. “so fucking pretty,” he whispers, his breath hot as it fans against your neck. you can’t help but let out a soft moan of his name as he cups your breast in his large palm. 

“it feels that good already, sweetheart?” he teases you, his voice is hoarse when he speaks. the nickname makes you whine out. it’s been repeating in your mind since the first he’s called you it. you nod, unable to form words as pleasure surges through your body. his touch is firm and rough, and you need more of him. 

sunghoon leans over your body, gathering your mouth in a hungry kiss. the intensity between you is increasing rapidly. you’re quick to kiss him back this time. your hands aren’t shy anymore— you tangle them in his hair and pull him closer. everything about him is so addicting. 

sunghoon breaks away from the kiss to get air and starts leaving a trail of wet kisses down your jawline, nipping and sucking on it, “i want to taste every inch of you— mark you everywhere.” he murmurs, his hands now on the button of your jeans, unbuttoning it. you don’t stop him from sliding the denim down your hips until your bottom half is only in your panties.

“you’re so fucking wet,” he growls out, his fingers dipping into the damp fabric, stroking your slick folds. “i can’t wait to feel you around me.” his words have you keen, your body needing him more than you had thought. 

he pulls your panties to the side, exposing your sopping pussy. he starts to tease your entrance with his fingers, circling your clit. the smallest touch from him has you gasping and writhing against the stolen car’s seat already. “please,” you beg, your voice desperate.  

“not yet, sweetheart,” his whispers to you with a tsk, “i want to make you beg for it.” with that, he slides two fingers inside you, curling them to find your sweet spot. he starts to pump his fingers in and out, his thumb working your clit in circles at the same time. 

your head is thrown back against the window already. the feeling of his long, slim fingers inside of you have your knees shaking on either side of his body. you can’t stop the whimpers of his name falling from your lips. 

sunghoon starts to pound his two fingers in and out of your soaking core. the squelching sound of his fingers entering and exiting filled the stolen car. your cries increased and you started bucking your hips up and off the seat, trying to match his pace. 

he only chuckled darkly at your movements, “relax, relax.” he said, his pace slowing down as he leaned over you and pressed his lips to yours. your eyes close instantly, taking in the feeling of his lips on yours and his fingers rubbing your g spot. 

“i’m, i’m close.” you whimper out to him when he pulls back. your eyebrows furrow as his thumb starts to rub circles on your clit again. 

“hold it for a bit,” sunghoon asks, “i wanna take my time with you.” is lips start pressing kisses into your neck again, biting and sucking on the skin. he wants to leave as many marks as he can— wants you to remember him everytime you look in the mirror. his hand moving quickly in between your legs kept you in place, pressed against the passenger side door. the window cool on your warm, sweaty back. 

“i c-can’t!” you cry out, you feel your orgasm approaching so strong and quick. 

you see his eyes darken at your confession, it makes your heart pick up pace as you watch a smirk spread across his lips before he speaks, “are you not gonna be a good girl for me, y/n?” the words rush through you and straight to your core, you’re sure he can feel the way your pussy throbs around his fingers even more. “are you not gonna listen to me, sweetheart?” 

you try to answer him but his fingers are working viciously on your pussy; two fingers continuously pounding into you whilst his thumb rubs circles all over your clit, so messily. 

sunghoon doesn’t like your lack of response, and suddenly his hand is around your neck, choking you with your head pressed against the window behind you. his fingers on his other hand don’t leave your tight walls. “i think you should listen to me, y/n. because sluts don’t get to cum, do you understand?” 

“y-yes,” you try to nod, but his hands wrapped around your neck forbid you. 

a smile spreads on his lips again, “good girl.” 

sunghoon leans down and kisses your harshly. he’s all over your body, taking control of all of your senses. he’s fingers are massaging your mesh walls, his thumb is spreading your juices all over your clit. his hand is threatening the oxygen to your head and his lips are taking your breath away. he’s all that you can think about. 

“you don’t like following orders unless it gets you to cum, is that right?” his voice is deep in your ear when he pulls away from your lips again. his tongue is trailing under your jaw. 

“n-no!” 

his teeth bite down on your jaw at your answer, “oh c’mon, y/n. don’t act like you’re not a slut for me. look at you, your legs spread open for me, tits out,” he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth briefly, causing you to cry, “admit that you like being fucked like a whore.” 

sunghoon’s degrading only makes your core focus more on your orgasm, your brain becoming hazy as the pleasure continues to take over your body. 

“answer me,” 

all you could do was nod with a weak whimper leaving your mouth. your body felt like it was on overdrive as you tried to hold back your orgasm for him, so you could be his good girl. 

“say it, say that you’re my slut.” 

“i-i’m, your s-slut!” you practically yell out into the car. you could feel the sweat dripping down your forehead– the windows fogging up, just from your breath. 

“good girl,” sunghoon smiles darkly. his hand suddenly starts to pound so hard into your pussy. your body was jerking up against the seat with every thrust of his hand. “now, beg me to let you cum.” 

“p-please!” 

sunghoon only chuckles, “oh c’mon, i know you can do better than that, sweetheart.” 

you swallow harshly, “please, l-let me cum, i need it so bad, sir.” 

the name falls out of your mouth so willingly that it makes that evil, lust filled look in his eye turn even darker. “then cum, whore.” 

with his permission, the overwhelming wave of pleasure crashes over you. “oh god!” you cry out. your body starts convulsing as your orgasm tears through you. your head is thrown back against the cold, passenger window. his fingers are relentless, fucking into you until you have to pull his fingers out of you. 

you feel your tired pussy gaping around nothing as you keep your legs spread, your body still as you try to calm down from your high. in the moonlight, you can see sunghoon’s fingers glistening. 

you watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices off with a satisfied grin. “fuck you taste so good.” he moans around his own fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. 

once your juices are off his fingers, and before you can catch your breath, sunghoon is grabbing your waist and pulling you across the centre console and placing you right on his lap. you straddle him, feeling his hard length straining against his jeans. “i want you to ride me, sweetheart.” his voice commands, filled with authority. 

you reach down, your fingers shaking as they reach for his zipper. you so desperately want to feel his hard cock inside of you. sunghoon helps with the zipper, his neediness makes him impatient, too. 

in a second, his cock springs free from his jeans and you can see that the tip is already glistening with his precum. you can’t help but let out a quiet gasp at the sight. your pussy clenches around nothing but the thought of him stretching you open. 

sunghoon guides your hips, positioning his cock at your entrance. he goes slow, not wanting to overstimulate your pussy too much. your body slowly slides down, taking him deep inside of you. you both groan in unison as he fills you, stretching you perfectly. 

“fuck, you’re so tight,” he practically moans out, his head falling back onto the driver’s seat. you glance down at his exposed neck and you can’t help but reach down and press a deep kiss into the soft, smooth skin. his hand slinks through your hair, keeping you there, letting you leave your mark on him. “you’re so hot.”

when you’re done and you sit up again, your lips are swollen from leaving the now red mark on his neck. you’ve now adjusted to his size, feeling every vein and ridge of his thick shaft. 

“move, sweetheart.” he growls now, wanting you to set the pace for him. and you oblige. 

you lift your hips up and then sink back down, taking him in a slow, deliberate stroke. his cock glides in and out of you, rubbing against your sweet spots, sending pleasure coursing through your body. 

sunghoon leans forward, his mouth capturing one of your nipples, sucking and biting. “you feel so good– so much better than i even thought.” your pussy clamps down around his cock at the mention of him thinking about what your pussy would feel like. the image of his hand wrapped around his cock, late at night, moaning your name and fucking his cock into his hand, thinking about your pussy. “yeah? you like knowing that i think about your pussy? think about you?” 

you nod, your breaths quickening, “i think about you, too. i wanted to your cock inside of me for so long.” 

sunghoon smiles at your confession, and reaches up to gather your lips against his again. you quicken your pace, riding him harder, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. the car is filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, your moans and his deep whispers. 

“fuck, that’s it, take my cock, y/n. it’s all yours.” he encourages you, his hands squeezing your ass, guiding your movements. 

the pressure builds again, an intense pleasure coiling low in your belly. "i'm gonna cum," you pant, your body on the brink of another orgasm.

“fuck, okay,” sunghoon speaks breathlessly, “cum with me.” he grips your hips tightly, helping you by lifting you slightly and then slamming you back down onto his cock. he starts pounding into your from below, his cock thrusting deep, hitting all the right spots. 

you cling to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as the pleasure becomes almost unbearable. "oh, fuck!" you cry out, your body trembling as the orgasm engulfs you. sunghoon grunts, his hips snapping up, driving his cock even deeper as he spills his hot cum inside you. 

you lean down to rest your head on his shoulder, your body weak. both of your chests are heaving against each other as you try to catch your breaths. sunghoon rubs his hands up and down your back, soothing your weak body. 

when you feel strong enough again you start to lift your hips up and sunghoon helps you. he sets you down on the passenger seat before he starts looking through the car for something to wipe the mess between your legs. he finds some tissues in the glove department and he smiles sheepishly at you before he starts gently wiping the sticky cum and juices off of your core. 

both of you fix your clothes and you’re left in silence, the windows slowly unfogging so you can see the city down below again. 

as you sit in the passenger seat, the silence feels thick, like neither of you knows what to say. you keep your hands tight together in your lap. 

“i should uh, get you home.” sunghoon finally speaks, and you notice how he can barely look at you. 

“uh sure, right.” 

when he starts to drive again, he just stares straight ahead, one hand gripping the steering wheel as he changes the channel on the radio, which is playing some retro love song you’ve never heard before. 

you shift in your seat, feeling anxiety creep up your spine. this wasn’t supposed to feel so intense. all you’d wanted was a little adventure, a bit of cash, and maybe some time to you look at the car thief who you found insanely attractive. 

you never thought sunghoon, with his impossible calm and that quiet confidence, would actually… want you back. but tonight, he let his cool, calm and collected demeanor drop— just for you. and now you’re left with wondering what it could mean. 

he pulls up to your apartment building not long after you start to see the city lights again. he taps his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at the dashboard instead of you. “so…” he says, his voice softer than usual. “i guess i’ll see you around.” 

“yeah.” you nod, gripping the door handle, feeling like you’re supposed to say something but coming up blank. “thanks for the… ride.” the words feel so lame, but what else is there to say?

he gives you a tiny smile, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “sure. anytime.”

a pause stretches between you, long enough that it feels like maybe one of you should say something—anything—to break the weird tension. but instead, you just close the passenger door of the stolen car and give a small wave to him as you turn and walk toward your apartment. 

tonight, he drives away before you can even enter the apartment building.

you haven’t seen the car thief, sunghoon, in two whole weeks. 

you’ve replayed that last night with him multiple times in your head, you’re sure you haven’t forgotten a single detail. still, you think about all the “what ifs” of that night. all the things you should or would have done differently. you shake your head, cringing at yourself for the hundredth time. 

it’s late now, another night where you’re practically dragging yourself home from work. you’re wondering how your life can feel so hard and boring all at once. you tug your purse over your shoulder tightly and start your walk home, telling yourself to not get stuck on the thought of sunghoon again. 

and then, like your life is some huge joke, a car pulls up beside you. you don’t even have to look to know who’s inside. 

before you can finish telling yourself to not glance over at the car, you glance over. your heart stutters when sure enough, sunghoon is sitting in the driver's seat of the car. he has that annoying smirk on his face that you’ve gone back and forth of hating and loving. 

still, the hurt of being ignored by him for two weeks after you fucked is still fresh. you scoff, rolling your eyes as he slows down beside you.

“what’s with that? aren’t you happy to me?” he says, his lips forming into an exaggerated pout. 

you tell yourself to not look at him and to keep walking home, “no.” 

“no?” he mocks, pretending to be offended, “don’t tell me it’s ‘cause i didn’t call you! i didn’t have your number, y/n!”

“it’s not that,” you mutter, not sure if you’re even telling the truth yourself.

“oh, really?” he says, tilting his head. “then why don’t you get in the car?” you shrug him off and keep walking. “what, you’re suddenly scared of getting into a stolen car?” he teases, grinning. “this one’s my friend’s.”

you glance at the car, recognizing it instantly—yeah, it’s his friend’s. he used  it once to drive you home last month. you say nothing, eyes forward, and keep walking.

“c’mon, y/n,” his voice softens, the car matching your walking pace beside you. “don’t be like. i’m sorry! just get in, and we’ll talk.” 

“you didn’t have my number, but you knew where i lived.” you raise a brow, finally looking over at him, and he falls silent. he bites his lip, knowing that you’re right and he could’ve talked to you a lot sooner than two weeks later. 

still, he doesn’t give up. “please, y/n, just get in. we can talk.” you don’t answer, the thoughts in your head are so conflicting. mentally switching between how hurt you’ve been to how addicting his touch is. “i’ll buy you food.”

you pause, narrowing your eyes at him. at the mention of food, though, he knows he’s won. he stops the car, smiling in victory as he gestures to the passenger side. “get in.” 

with an exasperated sigh you walk over and slip into the seat, you hate how hungry you are right now.

you sit in the passenger seat as you finish your burger that sunghoon had bought you. 

when you’re both done, sunghoon leans back in his seat and glances over at you. his eyes are aching as they meet yours, “i’m sorry i didn’t come to see you sooner.” 

you just give him a skeptical “hm” in response, raising a brow as you wipe your hands on a napkin.

he sighs again. “i’ve just been… stressed. busy. work’s been a lot and i didn’t want to get you wrapped up in this mess. last time we were together, i felt like i did just that—dragged you right into the middle of all this car-theft stuff. you don’t deserve any of that, y/n. i just want you to be safe.”

 “i understand that, but i’m an adult. i can make my own decisions, you know? and so can you, by the way. you could’ve come to see me, especially after… well, after what we did last time.”

he looks away, guilt flickering across his face as he nods, biting his lip. “i know. i just… i like you, y/n. a lot. and i wish my life wasn’t such a complete shit show right now.”

“my life’s a mess, too. but i’d still make an effort to see you.”

sunghoon sighs, “i know, i know. i messed up, okay? i handled it all wrong, and i’m sorry. okay? i’m sorry.”

you don’t say anything right away, just look down at your drink, setting it carefully in the cup holder. “okay,” you finally say. there’s a mix of relief and caution settling in your chest. sunghoon is complicated, and so are your feelings for him.  “have you ever thought about, like… you know, just having a normal job? a normal life?”

sunghoon snorts, “yeah i tried that, but not many people want to hire a guy who doesn’t even have a high school diploma.” you nod in understanding, so he continues, “and why do you want to steal cars? and don’t say you don’t want to—i saw how excited you were when we drove off a few weeks ago.”

you bite your lip, debating how much to actually tell him. you don’t share much with, well anyone. his pleading eyes convince you to tell him some parts, “well i’ve been on my own since i was 16, so money’s always been tight. so i just needed some more money. i’m sick of working all day, every day, just to go home, sleep, and start all over. i wanted… something different. something exciting.”

sunghoon listens, but looks away, shaking his head with a small smile, “y/n, i get it,” he says, sighing. “but crime isn’t exactly the way, you know? it’s bad, it’s dangerous.”

you laugh, raising an eyebrow. “right. you’d know all about being bad, wouldn’t you?”

his smirk flickers, and he doesn’t deny it. instead, he just watches you quietly for a second, his expression unreadable, “okay but,” he mutters under his breath, “but it’s different now. ever since i’ve met you, you make me want to be good.” 

something in his voice makes your stomach flip. you’re both happy and scared at the same time. you’re trying not to grin, but his hand comes up, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and you can’t help it. it’s what you’ve wanted to hear from him. the look in his eyes is warm and knowing. 

before you can think twice, he leans in, close enough that you catch a hint of his cologne, and then he kisses you, his lips as soft as you remembered. and in that moment, you both know you’re already deeper than you meant to be. 

your lips barely part from sunghoon’s when the screech of tires slices through the air, and suddenly, the night feels way too quiet again. you both freeze, eyes snapping to the headlights of a dark car that pulls into the parking lot.

you barely have time to react as the car comes to a stop. three men step out, all of them wearing expressions that scare you as they start to approach you and sunghoon. they have nasty scowls on their faces and it makes your heart beat rapidly in your chest. 

sunghoon shifts, stepping out of the car without looking at you, without saying a word. he looks just as terrifying as the three men do. he’s tense and so are you. 

"you really thought you could mess with us and get away?" one of them sneers as they look at sunghoon like he’s already dead and it sends a chill through your body. 

“sunghoon, let’s just go! please!” you call out to him from inside the car. 

the guy who spoke first takes a step towards the car, putting his hand on the roof as he bends down to look at you through the window. his eyes are wild and a terrifying smirk spreads on his lips, “oh, you’ve got a pretty girl with you tonight, huh park?” 

sunghoon instantly shoves the guys shoulder to get him away from the car. and before you can blink, the other two men are pulling out guns, aiming them directly at sunghoon. 

“don’t talk to her.” sunghoon’s voice is stern and cold as he ignores the guns and stares right at the man who spoke to you. 

“relax, relax,” the man’s voice is calm, “we’re not here for her, we’re here for you. because you’re the one who messed with all our engines, right? all the engines to the cars that we can’t sell now.” 

you see sunghoon’s jaw clench, his hand flexing at his side. you’re unable to move, unable to think of anything except the fact that sunghoon’s standing there, unarmed, against three men with guns.

"you shouldn't have come here," sunghoon finally says, his voice low, "you're making this worse for yourselves."

the guy closest to him scoffs, taking a step closer. "worse for us? you’re the one who made this personal, park. we’re just here to settle it." the man nods to one of the men with a gun, “do it.” 

everything happens so fast after that. someone yells and then a loud gunshot fills the empty parking lot. you swear your heart stops for a moment when you see sunghoon stagger back. his hands fly to this abdomen where red blood is already spreading across his white shirt. 

“sunghoon!” you scream, your hands fumbling with the car door as panic overtakes you. 

before you can reach the group of men, sunghoon lunges at one of the men, knocking him back. the guy’s gun slips from his grip, making it skid across the pavement. it lands a few feet away from you. before you can process what you’re doing, your body is diving for the gun, gripping its handle tightly in your shaky hands. 

“y/n, stay back!” sunghoon yells at you, his voice strained from the pain of his wound. but, you barely register what he’s saying as you aim the gun at the man who’s holding a gun to sunghoon’s head.

your finger so easily pulls the trigger of the gun. the recoil of the shot makes your arms jolt back. the man who you aimed at stumbles back, his own gun dropping to the pavement as he falls to his knees. 

suddenly, the weapon in your hand is burning hot in your hand, making you drop it. the other two men freeze, their eyes full of confusion and fear as they scan the scene in front of them. they definitely hadn’t been expecting that, and neither were you or sunghoon. 

“let’s go!” sunghoon shouts, his voice hoarse. his one hand is pressed against his bleeding stomach, his face pale as he tries to mask the pain he’s in. he starts to limp the the driver’s side of the car. 

“sunghoon, no,” you snap, rushing to his side of the car, “you can’t drive.” 

“i’m fine.” he argues, but you can see how much the wound is hurting him. his face doesn’t look the same at all. he can’t even stand up by himself, he’s holding onto the car’s roof like he’s gonna fall any second. 

“get in the passenger side, sunghoon.” you voice is a lot more stern that you had intended. 

you can tell that he wants to argue and protest, but the serious look in your eye makes him give in, “okay.” he carefully limps to the other side of the car. he’s just closing the passenger door when your shaking hands grab the steering wheel. 

the other three men have scrambled into their own car in front of you, taking off down the street quickly. the pavement below you is a mess of blood. you ignore the sight and panic bubbling up in your chest as you slam your foot on the gas. your heart is pounding so hard you can feel it in your throat, but you force yourself to focus. 

“just hold on, okay?” you say, your voice trembling. “we’re gonna get you help.”

“no!” sunghoon tries to sit up, “we can’t go to the doctor, y/n! they’ll call the cops! please no!” 

your eyes widen further at the realization that you can’t call for help, that you had just shot a man who’s blood is all over the pavement back there. that sunghoon is a thief, that there’s no way he could get help without going to jail. 

“fine, fine. no hospital!” you turn the wheel sharply, the tires screeching as you turn down another street, changing the direction you were going in. 

“you’re a terrible driver,” he mutters, his lips twitching into the faintest smirk despite the pain.

“shut up, sunghoon,”

before you can think, you’re pulling up to your apartment building. your hands are still trembling as you park the car in the shadows behind the building, where no one will notice it right away. your heart pounds as you glance around, praying none of your neighbors are outside or peeking through their windows.

“come on, sunghoon,” you mutter, rushing around to the passenger side. he groans as you help him out, his weight leaning heavily on you. there’s blood everywhere—on your hands, his clothes, the car seat. you wonder what the fuck you’re gonna do. 

it’s a struggle to get him up the stairs without dropping him or making too much noise. you kept switching between praying for sunghoon to not die right here and for your neighbours to not leave their apartment. you unlock your door with blood that doesn’t belong to you on your hands. you practically drag him inside after you to your bathroom. 

“sit down,” 

sunghoon practically falls down on the closed toilet lid, his face pale with droplets of sweat trailing down his face and neck. his white shirt is soaked with blood and you can feel your stomach turn at the sight— the smell of iron strong when you pull the shirt off of his head. 

you force yourself to not stare at the open, bloody wound and to move. you pull open the cabinet where you keep your first aid kit. 

“i can do it,” sunghoon mumbles, trying to sit up straighter. his voice is weak, but his stubbornness is as strong as ever. 

“no, you can’t,” you snap for the second time tonight. you kneel on the bathroom floor in front of him, pulling out all the supplies you might need. “just let me take care of you, okay?”

he blinks at you, surprised, but doesn’t argue. you grab a towel, folding it up before holding it out to him. “bite down on this,” you say softly. “this is gonna hurt.”

he hesitates for a moment before taking it, pressing it between his teeth. you grab a pair of tweezers from the kit, your hands shaking as you sterilize them with some rubbing alcohol.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him, before pressing your hand firmly against his wound. he tenses, a muffled groan escaping him as you work. you don’t think the bullet is lodged too deep, but you’ve never done this before. every time you move, he jerks slightly, his knuckles white as he grips the edge of the sink beside him. 

“hold on,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. 

with one more try, you manage to pull the bullet out with the tweezers. a trickle of his blood starts to trail down his side. you drop the bullet into the sink and grab some gauze to press against his wound. 

“i’m so sorry,” you say again, tears filling your eyes as you try to clean the area. you’re just hoping you did everything correctly so that he doesn’t die in your apartment. you just work as quickly as you can, bandaging him up and cleaning it so it doesn’t get infected. “done.” 

sunghoon pulls the towel out of his mouth, his head falling back to the wall behind his head. “you’d be the worst nurse ever,” sunghoon jokes weakly, his voice so evidently tired. 

you roll your eyes, standing up and grabbing a clean shirt from your bedroom. “don’t make jokes right now,” you mutter, helping him put the clean shirt over his head, wondering when your hands will stop shaking. 

he winces at the movement, but he doesn’t complain. he doesn’t want to make you worry more about him. “thank you.” he tells you, and it catches you off guard. 

“yeah, yeah,” you mumble, trying to ignore the way your cheeks heat up. you help the thief to his feet, guiding him to the couch in your small living room. he sinks into the cushion, exhaustion taking over his body as it doesn’t take him long to fall asleep after you give him a pillow and blanket.

sunghoon stays at your apartment for the next few days, being forced to be taken care of by you. 

you make sure he eats and that  his wound is cleaned. everytime you see it you tell him it looks better, even though you’re never really sure. you suppose you say it looks better for your own reassurance and sunghoon’s caught onto that, but he doesn’t say anything. 

when you’re at work you find it hard to concentrate on anything but the fact that a wounded sunghoon is at home on your couch. on every break, your phone is quick to your ear, calling him, making sure he’s still alive. when he picks up everytime, he sounds the same— tired, but  playful. 

“i’m fine, y/n.” he says every time, you can always hear his smirk through the phone, “you’re going to make yourself crazy with all this worrying.” 

but you keep calling, and he keeps answering, and you can’t stop yourself from falling in love with his laugh every time. 

you have tonight off from work for the first time since sunghoon got hurt. you’re sitting on the couch beside him, his head rests in your lap with his messy dark hair sprawled out against your bare thighs. the light from the tv is the only light in the room. the movie is some action one that you randomly picked, too tired to scan through anymore of them trying to find a good one. so, neither of you are really watching the movie. your hand absentmindedly runs through his hair. 

you can feel his hand start to wander across the bare skin of your thighs. it’s subtle at first, just the tip of his finger tips grazing the surface. but they get closer to your core that your shorts are covering. your eyes narrow as you look down at him, “sunghoon, you’re hurt, stop.” 

he tilts his head up to look at you, his lips quirked, “but you’ve been taking such good care of me. let me take care of you now.”

you grab his hand to stop it from going underneath your shorts, “sunghoon, you’re hurt,” your voice is firm, “just rest.” 

he sighs, his head falling back into your lap. “i can’t rest forever, you know,” he mutters. “i have to go back to work at some point.”

the mention of his “work” makes your body stiffen underneath him. the night that he got hurt has been flashing through your mind constantly. the large amounts of blood, sunghoon’s groans of pain— the way the gun felt in your hand as you pulled the trigger. you can’t stop the way your eyebrows furrow in worry. 

of course he notices, “y/n, you know i have to go back. it’s my career. it’s how i get my money.” his voice is soft and gentle as he explains himself. 

“hoon, you can get a real job. i can help you find one.” 

he instantly shakes his head in disagreement. before you can protest more, which he knows you will do, he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your thigh, then another just above it. your breath hitches as he starts to press soft kisses against your stomach. 

“sunghoon,” you warn him, grabbing his face with your hand. he stops, his dark eyes meeting yours as he lets his face rest against your hand. “i please, i can’t stand seeing you in pain. it’s too soon.” 

a soft smile covers his lips, it doesn’t completely match his eyes that are swirling with lust. but he turns his head and presses a kiss into your palm. “you take such good care of, y/n. i’ll be okay.” 

his stubbornness makes you groan, “sunghoon, please.” you beg him again, thoughts of his wound stretching open cross your mind. 

but, he doesn’t stop. he only starts to press more kisses against your wrist and arm. his smile grows against your skin with every kiss. 

“let me take care of you now, y/n.” 

you sigh, the fight in you dissipating and the smile on his face has reached full peak. he knows he has won, that you can’t resist him any longer. 

“spread your legs for me, sweetheart.” his voice deepens, “let me see your pretty pussy.” 

you obey his command once again, leaning back against the arm of the couch and opening your legs for him. you let him push your shorts aside, letting the cool air brush against your wet folds. his eyes darken even more, his gaze completely focused on your core in front of him. 

“that’s it, my good girl.” his words come out rough and steady, “i wanna taste you so bad.” 

his free hand holds your one thigh, caressing it and keeping it open for his broad shoulders to fit between your legs. his touch is gentle at first. his fingers ever so lightly start to rub your pussy up and down, spreading your juices around, preparing you for his mouth. it had you whining out for him already. 

“fuck, you get so wet so easily for me. wanna make you cum with my tongue, baby.” 

he barely finishes his sentence before he’s leaning forward, his tongue darting out and tracing the outline of your lips. he’s teasing you, making you squirm and beg for him again. his breath and mouth are so warm against your sensitive skin. 

“oh god, sunghoon.” you moan, your hand reaching down between your legs to grab his hair, “that feels good.” 

sunghoon loves how sensitive you are. how easy you are to get moaning. “you taste so fucking good, ‘m getting get addicted to this pussy.” the vibrations of his words make your legs tighten around his shoulders. 

his tongue flicks your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. your hips jerked forward involuntarily, seeking more of his touch. sunghoon chuckles, loving the power he has over you. 

“tell me how it feels, y/n– how my tongue feels against your pussy.” 

you look down at him where his face is pressed deep into your core, his eyes telling you what he wants. his tongue is still darting out to lick every inch of your pussy. “it feels so good, i love your tongue so much. please, don’t stop.” 

“you don’t want me to stop?” his voice is teasing as he slow down the movement of his tongue on your clit. 

“no! no! please don’t!” 

sunghoon laughs at your begging, but he doesn’t stop his tongue from moving. he constantly alternates from flattening his tongue against your pussy to contracting it circling it quickly around your clit. 

“who does this pussy belong to, sweetheart?” 

your head is thrown back over the couch in pleasure, “you.” 

suddenly a harsh slap lands on your clit, sending you squealing as you sit up and look down at him, his hands still holding your thighs open. “louder, who does this pussy belong to?” 

“you!” you nod down at him, your thighs shaking from the pleasure and pain. 

“good girl– because you are my good girl, right?” 

“y-yes!” 

you see him smirk against your core again, “then cum for me, baby. cum all over my mouth.” then, he’s shoving his fingers inside your pussy, heading straight for your g spot as he starts sucking your clit into his mouth, his tongue circling it again and again– so desperate to get you to cum. 

“oh god! oh god, sunghoon!” you writhe on the couch. if it wasn’t from his hands holding your thighs open then you would’ve fallen off the couch. “i’m gonna cum!” 

his fingers are pounding into you mercilessly, “that's it, baby, let it all out. cum for me, y/n." his voice was a low growl, urging you on.

your orgasm hits you hard. all the worry and frustration you had built over sunghoon’s health all left your body as the pleasure came crashing over your body. your hips can’t stay still as they buck up against his face. you cry out, your voice filling up your entire apartment as the pleasure overtakes you. sunghoon holds you throughout the entire climax, his mouth and fingers never stopping— wanting it to last as long as possible for you. 

as your body starts to relax, you collapse back onto the couch, your breath coming in ragged gasps. sunghoon slowly pulls away from you. his lips are glistening with your juices, a satisfied smirk is on his face as he looks up at you. 

“fuck that was good,” you tell him, a smile spreading across your face in amusement. 

“i told you i could make you feel good,” sunghoon wiggles his eyebrows in response. you roll your eyes, sitting up on the couch and pushing him to sit up. he does so, slowly. his back against the couch and his feet on the floor now. “c’mere,” he pats to his thighs. 

“sunghoon, it’s too much. i don’t want you to get hurt.” 

he doesn’t attempt to argue this time, only grabs your wrist and throws you on top of his lap. both of your knees are either side of his hips.

“if you want to take care of me then make me feel good, y/n.” he says to you, his eyes still full of lust as they look up at you on top of him. 

you can’t ignore the throb of your pussy at his words, so you give in to him again. your hands grab the hem of your shirt and slip it off your body. you move so you can take off your soaked panties and shorts, leaving you completely bare on top of the car thief. his bottom lip is tucked tightly between his teeth as he takes in the sight of you. it’s the first time he’s seen you completely bare. and it’s just for him. 

“you’re so beautiful,” he says as he reaches out his hand. you think he’s going to cup your breast or touch your body, but his hand settles on your lower jaw. his eyes looking directly into yours. “let me kiss you.” 

you lean down, making your lips meet with his. the kiss is gentle and soft. it makes your heart skip a beat as he prolongs it. he doesn’t want to let you go. but he does when you pull away for air. 

“i want you inside me, hoon.” 

sunghoon smirks at your confession, his hands pulling off the hem of his shorts so his cock can spring free for you. it looks so hard and thick— the memory of it stretching you open in the stolen car fills your mind. you can’t wait to feel it again. 

sunghoon grips your hips, giving you something to steady yourself on as you position yourself over his cock. you slide down onto his length with ease from your juices and his saliva covering your pussy. you take him in deeper and deeper until, stopping when he’s all the way inside of you. 

a moan escapes your mouth, your head falling forward to rest on his shoulder as you adjust to large size. sunghoon’s hands rub up and down your bare back, soothing you from the stretch. 

“we’ll just go slow this time, okay?” sunghoon’s husky tone speaks in your ear— reminding you of his wound. 

you nod as you sit up straight again. you keep your hands on his broad shoulders as you start to lift your hips off his cock slowly, then push them back down. the first thrust already has you reeling. you continue with the slow pace of your hips, bouncing up and down on top of his thighs. you start to alternate with small, slow circles of your hips. you move them left to right and right to left. it makes sunghoon groan out into the living room. 

“fuck that feels so good, you’re gonna be the death of me.” 

“shh, don’t say that when you have a gunshot wound.” you reply, covering his mouth with your hand. you can feel him smirk against your hand, but he doesn’t remove it. 

you keep your hand on his mouth, making him keep quiet, preventing some of his oxygen. you focus on sliding up and down on his cock, making it hit your g spot everytime it enters your pussy. your eyes keep fluttering shut at the feeling of it. 

sunghoon’s eyes are burning into you, watching every single movement you make on top of him. he loves watching you bring yourself to the edge with his cock— using him. 

“fuck i love your cock.” you moan out, starting to feel the coil unwinding in your abdomen as the pleasure builds and builds. 

sunghoon then takes your hand off his mouth with his hands, you want to complain, to mock him for being disobedient like he did to you, but he speaks too quickly, “i love you.” 

his confession doesn’t startle you as much as it does make the pleasure inside of you turn to fire. it only fuels your need to make him feel good— to cum all over his cock. 

“i love you,” you tell him, leaning over to kiss him harshly. he keeps up with your messy pace, kissing you back the same way. your hips don’t stop bouncing on top of him as you make out. 

sunghoon’s hands wrap around your body, pulling you closer to him so your chests are touching. your own arms wrap around his neck. your chest is in his face as you focus on fucking him harder and harder. you can feel his lips start to migrate from your jaw to your neck to your nipples. he sucks each one in his mouth, biting them and swirling them with his tongue. 

“fuck, that’s it, sweetheart.” he words come out in a groan. “keep bouncing like that— you’re gonna make me cum.” 

a sob escapes your lips as the pleasure inside of you is about to spill at any second now. “i love you.” you repeat as you keep your head close to his. 

“i love you.” 

your nails start to dig into his back when you feel his one hand snake down between your bodies, starting to rub at your sensitive clit. you cry out, not wanting him to stop. sunghoon can feel the way your walls are rapidly clenching around his cock. he can tell how close you are to cumming. 

“are you going to cum for me, y/n?” he asks you, his voice hoarse and strained as he feels his own orgasm approaching. 

“yes, yes!” 

“cum then, baby. cum around my cock for me.” 

his words send you over the edge. your whole body tenses up as the pleasure overtakes you. it makes your toes curl and fingers dig deeper into his shoulders. you keep your face buried into his neck, letting him hear all your moans of his name. 

the second your wet walls started to spasm feverishly around his cock, sunghoon can’t hold back his own orgasm anymore. he lets out a loud grunt of your name as his cum shot out of his cock, filling your pussy up with it instead. you can only bounce a few more times on his cock before your knees completely give out with the rest of your tired body. 

you keep each other pulled close. your arms wrapped around one another as you both steady your breaths. there’s sweat all over you and your pussy is constantly throbbing around him. your mind is hazy as you try to comprehend what had just happened. 

sunghoon is the first to pull away, sitting back against the couch as he looks up at you. he laughs quietly at your tired face, your eyelids practically closed. even though he’s injured, he still gently lifts you off his cock and sets you beside him on the couch. your hair is a mess as it sprawls against the couch arm behind your head. 

sunghoon reaches to the coffee table to get tissues to clean up the mess between your legs. he presses soft kisses into your thighs as he cleans you. he makes sure to get every remnant of his cum off your pussy. he ignores the fact that the sight makes his cock twitch in his shorts again. 

sunghoon slips off his shirt and puts it on your body, covering you up. you hum at the smell of his cologne surrounding you. you can hardly believe how mentally and physically exhausted you are. the stress from the past week of taking care of him and the three men trying to hurt him really took a toll on you. 

sunghoon shifts you so he can lay behind you on the couch. he rests his head on yours as he kisses the side of your cheek. he stays there, close to you when he says, “i love you.” 

now, as you can think more clearly, you sigh, “i love you, too sunghoon but,” you turn over your to face him, eye to eye, “i can’t keep loving you if you keep risking your life for these cars. i can't constantly think if you’re dead or alive. it’s too stressful for me.” 

sunghoon looks at you, taking in all your features that he’s come to memorize. the features that he’s fallen in love with since the first time he’s seen you on the empty street behind the club. he’s seen you this past week almost pulling your hair out from worrying so much about him. you couldn’t even go to the bathroom without worrying that if you’d come back he’d be dead.

he saw the way you risked your own life for him during the gith with the three men. the way you dove for the gun just to protect him. he’s done what he never wanted to. he’s put you in danger. 

“if it’s between stealing cars and you,” he starts, his voice soft like a whisper, “then it’s you. it’s always you.”

you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face, “really?” 

“yeah, i’m done with the car stealing shit, then.” 

you grab his face and bring it to yours, meshing your lips together. both of you smile into the kiss— happy to start fresh with one another. 

“i love you.” you tell him again, pulling back to press kisses all over his face out of pure happiness. 

sunghoon laughs as you kiss him, “i love you, too.” he wraps his arms around your body, pulling you against his large frame, “but you should sleep now, i find out what your mouth feels like around my cock later.” he fake winces in pain when you shove him his shoulder— making you laugh before you settle against his body again. 

both of your eyes close as you drift off to sleep together on the couch. 

now that sunghoon has hit the brakes and left the fast lane for you, there’s no more danger or crime— just the two of you. and that’s all you could ever ask for.

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

taglist : @awqken @021894s @hvseung @hees-love @caratstick

@hollyoongs

@starry-eyed-bimbo @immelissaaa @sweetjaemss

@rayofsunshineeee @cloud-lyy @darlingjungwon

@kimjkejyy @niniissus @love4hee

@17ericas @mrsjohnnysuh @cornenhapovs

@dearsjaeyun @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn @rbf-aceu

@jakeswifez @capri-cuntz @sngleehee

@aanniikkaa @wiccangirl29 @mbioooo0000

@selleprotection @ancynymcnzjy @zorange13

@slvrnm @insommni4 @m1m1-70

@heeseungspookie @heechwe @seuliecore

@deobitifull @vernonburger @iluvikeu

@skaterhoon @shiningnono @mrsjang6

@onlyhees @mirramirra @cherry-park

@missychief1404 @jiawji @yongbokified

@aileeeeeeeeeeeee @minniejenseo @shjsnjkj

@ikeuwoniee @jayienn @tanisha2060

@kimjkekyy @jakeswsh @jiminie-08

@jenojammin @emogrlsworld

@jaeyunlvrs @minaateez @wave2hoon

@jeonholics

[stvrnioloslvt]

stressed out - chris sturniolo

genre: smut / t.w: mdni, mutual masturbation, getting caught

—★—

silence fell heavy in the kitchen where chris nipped mindlessly at his lunch with the fork. his eyes were fixed on his phone, waiting for a notification, anything that could help him understand how to act around you lately.

he wasn't mad, he knew that you were just so stressed with your uni assignments and exams that you were reaching a no turning back point, he just wished for you to actually take a moment to yourself, relax and then start again.

right as he picked up the phone to send you a quick text, he heard the noise of keys shuffling and the door opening.

"i'm home," you called out weakly, heading towards your room. as you walked past the kitchen you heard chris greeting you, a hint of hope in his "hi baby", but you couldn't bear to even look at him in the eyes.

as you opened the door of your room, you threw your backpack on the ground, pulled out your books and let them fall on your desk. you took a step back as you watched the endless pile of sheets looking back at you, your mind swirling around like crazy trying to understand how to organise your work, how to not fail your classes.

but what if you did? what if you actually failed? you had never even gotten a bad mark when you were in school, you couldn't let that happen now. what would everyone think, then?

you closed your eyes, hands holding onto the desk until your knuckles turned white as you took deep breaths to calm your nerves.

"baby," chris's hand snuck around your waist, pulling you close to his body. you flinched, so immersed in your mind that you didn't even hear him enter the room. "please, don't. you need to do something else or you're going to have a burnout."

"i have work to do-"

"let me help you."

"you wouldn't even know what it is about."

"i'm not talking about your assignments."

soft lips landed on your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind. you tensed as you felt your boyfriend's bony hand travel under your skirt, stroking your thigh gently. you tried to wiggle out of his grasp, resisting the sudden urge to throw yourself at your boyfriend. when was the last time you had sex?

"relax, ma. i got you."

"chris" a whimper fell from your lips, his index teasing your clit through your panties. you shuddered at the contact, feeling yourself grow more and more aroused by the second.

"i-have work to do-" chris hummed sympathetically at your words, sucking a violet hickey on your neck. for all that mattered you could have dropped out of college in that instant if that meant that he wouldn't see you in so much stress. his finger kept tracing patterns on your panties with feather like pressure, working on getting you all worked up. he chuckled internally as he felt the fabric getting damper by the second.

"what a shame," he whispered in your ear, fingers dipping inside your panties, rubbing circles on your clit, "i doubt you could focus in this state, hm?"

you couldn't hold back a soft gasp at the contact, your hips bucking against his hand trying to get more friction against your aching clit. chris held you firmly against his body, preventing you from squirming around too much, while his own throbbing member poked at your back.

his kisses travelled up your jaw ending at your earlobe, which he lightly nibbled. he groaned as he pushed a finger inside you, feeling your warm walls welcoming the new presence.

you threw your head back on his shoulder, loosing yourself in pleasure as he finally fingered you, squelching wet noises filling the otherwise silent room.

"good girl," he whispered in your ear, adding another finger in, your moans and cries only pushing him further in his ministrations.

"is this what you needed to fix your attitude? daddy's fingers inside you? hm?"

you nodded desperately, one hand leaving the desk to grip his forearm as your orgasm approached faster than ever before. you squeezed hard around his fingers, signaling him that you were close.

"that's it baby, c'mon give it to me... thaat's it, atta girl"

a loud cry left your lips as you came, spasming in his arms while he helped you ride out your climax.

you panted heavily, shaking from the intensity of it all.

"one more," you managed to whisper, catching your boyfriend's attention.

"you got one more?"

"hm."

"can you handle it?"

you nodded, thighs clenching in order to provide some sort of friction to your aching clit.

"turn around."

you did as he said, turning slowly before meeting his flushed expression, pupils blown and dark as his gaze pinned you on the spot. his hands grabbed your hips tightly, pushing you more against the desk until you were trapped in between.

you stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, until you whimpered a weak "please," both of you snapping and kissed passionately, tongues fighting for dominance.

his knee pushed your legs open, hands pressing you on his thigh, guiding you in moving back and forth. you moaned relieved as you started grinding on his leg, hands reaching under your skirt to pull aside your panties and rub directly on his jeans, the friction sending waves of sparks through your body.

"i-fuck," the sound of chris's belt falling to the ground brought you back to reality, watching through hooded eyes as he frantically popped open the button of his jeans, pulling the zipper down. he sighed relieved at the lack of constriction, his hand mindlessly stroking his dick through the fabric as the other held you against his leg.

you reached for his pants, pulling them down slightly to reveal the dark wet patch on his briefs, precum oozing out of the tip.

you licked your lips at the view, staring hungrily as you pulled his member out. chris groaned, a whispered "thank you" lingering in the air as you wrapped your hand around his throbbing dick, already red and ready to release.

chris caught your lips in a kiss as the both of you worked on getting the other off, your orgasms behind the corner.

"chris," you cried, feeling yourself reaching your climax, "oh fuck chris please please, please"

"yes, fuck- good girl, you're so- shit i'm cumming-" your grip tightened around his cock, pumping faster as thick ropes of cum spilled out and on your hands, dripping on your clothes and on the ground.

"yo, y/n, have you seen my...what the actual fuck is happening?!"

"matt get out!" you screamed, throwing your pencil case at his head.

"in my house? under my roof? WHILE WE'RE HERE? i really need to move, this shit is getting crazier by the day." and as matt walked away from the room rambling about how his house wasn't to be disrespected like that, you looked back at chris that stared at you exactly as surprised as you were. in the end, you could do nothing but laugh at the insanity of the situation, your stress long forgotten.

© stvrnioloslvt

—★—

ngl i'm not really satisfied with my writing but i had this idea and i had to write it down. nevertheless, i hope you enjoyed it! the taglist will be in the comments since it won't let me tag you here.

love you all,

-bree <3

[hannamoon143]

Don‘t drown in your own mind

bang chan x Writer! Fem reader

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings: anxiety, description of anxiety/panic attack, crying, self doubt, insecurities, mention of depression, mentions of slight bad eating habits, slight cursing

Masterlist

You were laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling. It was like this for days now. Or maybe weeks? Time felt so irrelevant. Everday you were going to work, coming home, laying down, then you stared blankly at your wall for a few hours until you fell asleep. This, these days were horrible. You couldn‘t name the feeling, but a lonelines mixed with emptiness was just taking in your whole mind and heart. Nothing really happened that made you feel like this. It was just a never ending circle. When you got up for work you weren‘t thinking mostly. Almost automatically you got up, dressed, and ate a small breakfast. Your job was okay.It wasn‘t exactly what you wanted, but for the first it was a not too hard job, and the payment was good too. You always wanted to be an author, as long as you can remember. So you‘ll probably stay at this job a little longer, and someday make writing your mainjob, as an author. That was the plan at least. But right now, everything was harder. When you were coming home, you were always so tired that you didn‘t have the energy to do anything else anymore. That was probably also why your apartment looked like a mess. But you weren‘t able to stop it. You just didn‘t know how to stand up, clean everything, maybe go out, do something after work. All of this felt so far away.

Writing had been always an escape for you though. Poetry and literature was something you could describe your feelings with, like you could never in direct words. But these days your mind was blank. When you read others poetry and works, it somehow didn‘t reach you. And when you tried writing something yourself, again, this horrible emptiness in your mind. And when you couldn‘t even do the one thing that always brought you relief and comfort, what did you have left?

Somedays, you wanted to cry. You were waking up with not only the familiar exhausting emptiness, but also a heavy feeling in your chest. On these days everything seemed even a bit harder than on the other days. When people at work yelled at you, they were a tick louder on these days. People accidentally bumping into you, hurt a bit more. You weren‘t able to concentrate on work, just trying not to cry or yell at someone, the only light being the end of the day, when you could go home. But when you finally were going through your apartment door, the weary tireness came over you again. It was a horrible feeling. Not being able to do anything, not even being able to cry, when it‘s everything you had wanted to do the whole day. But you were still awake for hours. You had always wondered how people with depression were able to stand up, and do what they were supposed to do every single day. This was probably kinda what it felt like.

Oh but there was one thing you hadn‘t thought about. How dared you to think chan wouldn‘t notice? Chan is a protector. He always tries to protect everyone around him, be it from mean people, things, or their own minds. Oh and you? You were his ultimate softspot. He would give the moon to you if you asked him to. So of course he noticed when it got that time again. He noticed by the way you would zone out and sometimes not reply to his calls, and when you did, you mumbled a few responeses and just hang up all of a sudden,saying you‘d go to sleep.By the way you would need a bit longer to text back. And how you tried to smile when you were meeting up, but it never reached your tired eyes. And you didn’t write as much anymore. Sometimes before, you would randomly come into his studio at night, and just sit next to him, and while he was working on some tracks, you would write a few lines, be it about him, about your fellings or maybe a story you wanted to write down. He could tell by all the little things, your eyes, your voice, your body language.

He knew.

And what he learned about you was, that you weren‘t one to just talk about it, or reach out for help. Even if you wanted to, you couldn‘t. You simply didn‘t know how to talk about everything sometimes. Simple words seemed to not fit for the feeling. That was why he knew how important your random quotings were, or when you‘d show him your latest writings. And the worst thing was you always thought you were a bother. Of course chan had told you a million times that you weren‘t. He tried to reassure you ine very way possible. And somewhere you knew that he would never lie to you. But for some reason your brain didn‘t want to accept that. You often got brushed off as being lazy, not useful, and some kind of burden in your past. How could you be able to not think that when so many other people did? But the weird thing was, he knew. Chan always knew.

At some early point in your relationship you discovered that you shared a habit that was a bit uncommon. Often when your own words weren‘t enough, you expressed your feelings in quotes or song lyrics. It was a simple thing do do but to chan and you it meant so much. When you didn‘t know each other for that long, he discovered your love for writing and literature, so at some point he also started to really like it. And it was you who got more engulfed into music because of him. You were like puzzle tiles, matching and showing each other new ways and things.

But lately you even stopped doing that. Not randomly sending him lyrics, or poems anymore, you just wanted to share, or that made you think of him, or that you liked because they fit your situations. That was when he knew that it was really getting like that again. And never ever, was he going to let you hurt, and feel like that all alone. Not when he also knew about earlier phases in your life. So he planned how to get you out of the house, to make you do something that you‘d also really enjoy. He thought about what to say to you, and how to approach you at all. But all these thoughts just disappeared when he got a noification on his phone. He opened it. There was no context, and no hello, just this:

„Maybe it‘s time to say goodbye, cause i‘m getting pretty fucking tired“

Chan didn‘t even have to think. You showed him this song (Tired-beabadoobee) once, and said it was one of your favorites. He stated that it made him feel depressed, but you just giggled at that.

But at this lyrics, chan didn‘t think twice before he took his coat and car keys.

This day had just been horrible. Already when waking up, you felt a bit heavier than usual. Every task was a bit harder, and the thought of food made you nauseous. At work someone that you considered a friend had started telling people things about you, and then they also yelled at you for „Being a unproductive worker, and you are draggig everyone here down with your depressing ass attituted. It would be better if you weren‘t here.“ That had hit you hard. U didn‘t really care what other people said usually, but this stung. In the past weeks it was hard to even get up, but you tried so hard to do everything you were supposed to. Maybe you didn‘t talk as much with your co-workers then, but only because you couldn‘t have taken it… And then this small last sentence. „It would be better if you weren‘t here.“ You had heard this sentence so often in your life. Your „friends“ in school. Your parents. Your family. Teachers, colleagues, fans of chan. You had heard it too often. At some point you started to believe them. That was until chan came. He got you out of that dark hole, and he made you realize that all these people were wrong. But now you weren‘t so sure anymore.

To this day, you were always afraid of hearing chan say these words. You knew he never would say such things to anyone, but the thought was always somewhere in the back of your mind.

Now you were here again. The words of your co worker echoed in you mind. What if chan also hated your „Depressing attitude“? What if you were too much for him? You would understand that he didn‘t want to be with someone like you. You were always kind of messed up. So who said all those people in your life weren‘t right? Maybe everyone‘s life would be better if you weren‘t here…

You started blasting music through your airpods. It was the only thing somehow keeping you stable. Then the song played. Tired. A song you had listened to when you were at your lowest, it somehow being able to comfort and pain you at the same time. You didn‘t know what you were thinking, probably you just weren‘t thinking at all, but you sent chan a message. Absimently you typed in the songtext you knew without even hearing it. Then you let your phone fall.

Suddenly it seemed like those weeks of tiredness, emptiness and numbness were like washed away. A deep sob wracked your body. At the same time it felt relieving, but it was also pained. And then another one. And then tears started falling and your sobs mixed with the sound of your vent playlist. The words first quietly replayed in your mind „It would be better if you weren‘t here…“ But then, it changed. Your thoughts got louder and you didn‘t know what to do. Everything was too much right now, too overwhelming. The world was cruel, and so were people. But who said all cruel things were wrong? You fell down to your knees, wrapping your arms around your upper body. Your chest felt tight, and your breath was only coming out in choked sobs, while warm tears kept trailing down your cheeks. It was a stark contrast to the coldness in your mind. The airpods were still in your ears. You didn‘t hear the front door opening, and chan kicking off his shoes.

The first thing he heard were loud, pained sobs. They were shattering his heart. He quickly took off shoes and coat and rushed into the livingroom, where you were kneeling down, your upper body bent forwards, and while you were clutching to your own body, choking sobs were filling the air. He ran over to you, sitting on the floor next to you. He took your airpods out immediately and just wrapped his arms around you, starting to mumble comforting words into your hair. He knew the only thing that could calm your anxiety and panic right now, was physical touch, and someone telling you that it was okay, just giving you the comfort you really needed. So he tried not to cry himself, as he rocked you in his arms, slowly releasing your own arms from your trembling body, until you were entirely leaning onto him, sobbing. He mumbled quiet reassureances, and laid your hand on his chest, reminding you to breathe. You were trying your best to follow his breaths, his entire presence already bringing you big comfort. After a while, you were only lightly crying in his arms anymore, but he was relieved, that the anxiety attack and the panic was gone now. You finally managed to get something out. „It would be easier if i wasn‘t here. For you, and everyone else.“

Chan was shocked at that. Did you really think that? That you were even thinking such a thing, made him so sad. You were one of the most loving, hard working people he knew, and he wanted to beat up everyone who would ever made you think something like this. „Oh dear…“ he wrapped his arms a bit tighter around you, placing his chin on your head while stroking your back gently. „Whoever told you that is wrong. A life without you would be way harder to be honest. Who would send me memes of myself? Who would comfort me when i am frustrated because i can‘t finish a track? Who would be there to love and care for me? And i can tell you for sure, your real friends and family think the same. And no matter who, if anybody makes you think otherwise, they are wronger than wrong. I love you sooo much, and i know life can be tough, but i for sure know one thing. Life would be hard and boring without you. Please darling, don‘t ever try to leave me okay? If you feel like this again, overwhelmed, tired, like you don‘t belong here, then come to me. Tell me how you feel, let‘s write something together, also if your works will be hundred times better than mine, or let me just cuddle and comfort you, but don‘t suffer alone please. Call me across the ocean before you drown in your own mind. I‘d swim ever meter to come to you.“

He placed a kiss on your forehead. You were slightly crying again, but this time different than before. He was talking so genuine, and nothing he was saying sounded like a lie or just empty words to please someone. He meant every single thing he said. You looked at him, and a small smile stealed it‘s way on your lips. And that was the most beautiful thing chan ever saw. He wanted to keep it in his heart forever. He smiled back and pulled you against his warm chest again. Maybe from now on, the empty days, that just randomly came, wouldn‘t be as empty and exhausting anymore. Because chan would catch you when you‘d fall, listen to you, even when you didn‘t exactly know how to express yourself. He would be there, no matter what. And he would make sure you‘d never feel like your existence was a burden for anyone ever again.

World was cruel, yes. But chan was a rock in a big ocean, to hold onto whenever you felt like you were drowning.

Taglist: @0omillo0 @lina-linny @onementally-unstabel-kid @darqlys

[alcoholfreenayeon]

Hello can I request for more Sana and Tzuyu gf headcanons? I really enjoy your work!

Sana Girlfriend HCs pt.2

SFW HCs

She’s been working on her song writing because she wants to write a song about you.

Sana has been feeling a bit down lately because her schedule has been really busy lately and she hasn’t been able to spend much time with you lately.

She recently decided to get a gaming laptop because she wants to try out gaming especially she’s been spending a lot of time traveling and doesn’t have much else to do.

Even though you warned her, she said she doesn’t mind going for scary games straight away. This is inspite of her being scared easily.

And that’s how you found yourself playing lethal company with Sana, Mina and Dahyun.

However, Sana ended up enjoying it a lot, loving that she could be bonding with her close friends and partner while playing. She did end up screaming a lot though.

When she video calls you before sleeping, it’s quite amusing to see her twist, turn and stretch restlessly every couple of minutes.

She has a small scar on her finger now because she had gone out for dinner with you and ended up getting burnt by the boiling hot bowl.

She was so happy to spot you surprising her during MiSaMo’s comeback that she really jumped into the crowd to go to you.

Sana has tried to make sketches of you but is too embarrassed to show them to you for now.

NSFW HCs

The two of you have been exchanging quite a lot of dirty texts lately.

It’s somewhat new for Sana because you hadn’t been this intense in text before so it gets her heart racing.

The few times you and Sana managed to meet up in this busy period, she wasted no time in letting you know that she needs you in the most primal way.

She likes to suck your finger when you are on top and bite them when she’s on top.

While on her way to practice, you sent her a suggestive message and she smiled excitedly as she whispered it out and giggled.

Only to feel piercing gazes at her and turned to see both Momo and Mina looking at her in disbelief.

She’s loves to leave hickeys all over you.

Jihyo and Jeongyeon caught her daydreaming about you. It was quite easy for them to figure out it’s you given the way Sana was biting her finger and smirking.

You had gotten a sudden load of work dumped on you and had to cancel going on one of the performances. Sana was pretty upset about it.

So she decided to wear exactly the kind of dress that drives you crazy and performed with it. Knowing you are bound to watch the performance later and that you’d be all over her when you see her next.

[opiopal]

An MC who acts slightly, but noticeably different with each person or group around them.

For example, uhh maybe they act much more mature and down to earth with people like barbatos, Lucifer, and Diavolo. But when with mammon, or during a scheme with almost any of the other brothers they’ll match the amount of energy they have. Or while with Levi, they’ll be much more uhh in a rambling sorta mood.

They’ll be goofing off with some of the brothers, like turn around, talk incredibly formally formally to Lucifer and then get back to goofing off😭

(If you couldn’t tell I’m the same guy who asked for competitive MC I’m so sorry I yap so much in asks!!!)

no worries! I also tend to yap a lot in asks when I suggest stuff to other people! also I LOVEEE this concept(totally not because I also tend to do this by mistake)

but I could imagine mc going from talking all Shakespearean with mephisto or luci to basically verbal texting with Levi and mams,

like it could be so dumb and make for a lot of laughable moments, one second mc is chittering away then all of a sudden luci or s8n asks a question, and they turn and say some stupid crap like “I believe I returned that book yesterday, though I could be incorrect.” And once they leave mc will turn back to the group and be like “anyways chat,” which I could imagine would make the other loose their MINDS immediately, just straight up CACKLING. And mc probably gets annoyed about it a few times, it’s not like they can help it!!

other times I could imagine this coming in handy at like big parties at Dia’s palace, because they could totally walk around with like asmo or mephisto and fake snootiness, or when they hang around dia and suddenly they just match his loud happy vibe immediately, or literally anything. Talking to a noble?? They love mc because they just act so proper and polite!! Smh servants? They are just so sweet and considerate to the work they are doing!

also just mc randomly tone matching could add up with this, like, Luci is scolding them, and mc matches his volume and anger unintentionally and the situation escalates FAST. Same deal with s8n. or having a simple convo with Beel and it’s just two monotones going back and forth. And with mams, he gets excited about something and mc responds in that same tone of voice, so then he gets MORE hyped because his human is ALSO hyped and mc sounds MORE hyped as well and so on.

(also I am so sorry this took so long, I am unfortunately plague ridden and am trying to use this small window of feeling slightly better to push out as many drafts as possible)

[baekhyunsbestie]

expanding on baekhyun beating it to his so's pics to say imagine him facetiming her in the middle of it cuz he needs to really see herrrr and ur like hi bby wait why is ur face so concentrated and also why is ur arm moving up and down underneath the camera and OH o_o

omgggg i can picture this sooooo vividly it hurts 😭😭😭😭 i literally had to write about it!!!!

18+/MDNI!! | wc: 1.6k+

you and baekhyun have each other’s locations shared, as couples and loved ones often do these days. he’s currently out of the country for a packed schedule and won’t be back for a few more days. you’ve both adjusted to the chaos of his life, as hard as it can be. but the bond you share? unshakable, no matter the distance or time apart.

tonight, though, he’s lying alone in his hotel bed, missing you more than usual. he knows you had plans with your friends, a rare night out you’ve been needing for a while. he checks the time: 11:30 p.m. back home. too early for you to be back, and he knows it.

still, he can’t help himself. he checks your location.

still at the bar.

he exhales, sinking deeper into his pillow. he doesn’t want to bother you. you deserve this—an escape from the stress that’s been weighing you down. he’d rather you enjoy yourself than feel guilty for being out late.

so instead, he unlocks his phone and opens instagram, likely to doom-scroll through endless posts, letting the minutes slip away as he waits for you to get home safely and for the comfort of your nightly goodnight call.

but then, your story flickers onto the screen, pulling him in, a sudden spark in the otherwise dull scroll.

the first post is a mirror selfie: hair falling just right, effortlessly perfect, makeup soft yet glowing, and that simple black dress—one of his many favorites—clinging to your curves in all the right ways. when he notices the timestamp, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. you sent this to him first. it’s a small gesture, but it makes his heart swell.

the next slide is a quick clip of you and your girls, all glammed up, drinks in hand, raising your glasses with laughter as the music blares in the background. your happiness is so tangible, so infectious, and it warms him to see you this carefree.

then, there’s a repost from your friend. it’s a grainy but adorable video of you and her dancing, swaying in sync with the beat. the way you playfully twerk on her, both of you giggling uncontrollably, is far from suggestive—just two besties reveling in the moment.

but baekhyun is a man. and men? they think with their dicks.

his mind wanders, lingering on the way that dress clung to you, the way your body moved. and now, no matter how much he tries to focus on how happy you look, he’s suddenly cursing the miles between you, wishing for the kind of proximity that doesn’t involve a screen.

he checks the time again: 11:37 p.m.

the urge to reach out to you—text, call, anything—burns hotter with every passing second. he’s jittery, restless, the kind of edgy that leaves his leg bouncing uncontrollably. would you even answer if he called? the thought gnaws at him. god, he misses you. he misses the nights you’d stumble out of bars, dialing him with drunken, slurred words. how you'd insist you weren’t done drinking because the only thing left on your menu was him.

shit. the memories alone have him stiffening in his bed, blood rushing south faster than he can stop it. the sound of your drunk giggles, your uninhibited honesty spilling out between hiccupped words. the way your hands would roam without permission, needy and brazen. he exhales a shaky breath. the ache in his boxers is unbearable now.

he can’t take it anymore.

his fingers unlock his phone, navigating to the photos app to access the hidden folder only you know about. his secret stash. a digital gallery of you: alone, with him, under him, and on top of him. his free hand drifts to his leaking cock as his thumb swipes through the memories.

you knew about this folder, of course. you had your own—filled with matching treasures. you both had this shared indulgence, a mutual obsession. pictures and videos from every angle: your hands clutching the sheets while he buried his face between your thighs. you straddling him, his camera catching the perfect view of your curves. shaky, raw footage of backshots, his hands leaving fiery-red imprints on your skin as you moaned his name into the mattress.

you needed these to survive the nights apart, a remedy for the distance that stung like a wound that wouldn’t heal.

truthfully, even if you saw each other every day, you’d still keep these folders. you both had a thing for cameras, for the thrill of capturing your rawest moments together.

his fist wraps around his length, the other clutching his phone as he presses play. it’s a video of you riding him, your hips grinding against him in a slow, torturous rhythm. the camera shakes slightly—it’s shot from his perspective, the faint tremble of his arm betraying how badly he was already losing it then.

his lips part, breath hitching, and his heart pounds loud enough to drown out the rest of the world. but it’s not enough. it never is. he needs more.

he needs you.

he taps the screen, fingers shaking as he hits 'facetime.'

you answer on the second ring.

it’s 12:55 a.m.

your face comes into view, filling the screen with a teasing smile as you nudge open the door to your shared penthouse. the faint hum of city lights spills in behind you, but all your attention is on him. one glance is enough—his brows are knitted together, lips slightly parted, the cool glow of his phone illuminating his face and glistening off his glossy lips. you know exactly why he’s calling.

“hi, baby,” you slur, voice syrupy with just enough bite, “i miss you so much.”

“i miss you too, my angel,” he exhales, his voice barely more than a whisper, chest rising and falling in measured, aching pulls. from where you stand, you see everything—the way his shirt clings to his body, damp in all the right places, the faint quiver of his lips holding back words he’s too desperate to say. the sound of his breath, uneven and needy, fills the air between you. his gaze burns, molten and consuming, pouring his hunger into every inch of your skin.

you giggle, a sound light and teasing, as you saunter toward your shared room. "i can tell, lover."

his smile is shy, almost boyish, but not enough to stop the slow, steady stroke of his hand over his aching length. "home already?"

you nod, a quiet hum slipping past your lips as you step into the closet, the soft shuffle of your feet muted against the carpet. your fingers trail over the familiar fabrics until they find your favorite pajamas. as you pull them from their place, you cross the room to the dresser, propping your phone against its edge. the glow of the screen bathes the space in muted light, capturing him on the other side—his hand moving with practiced rhythm, his flushed face a picture of unguarded bliss, every gasp and twitch drawing you deeper into the moment.

"ya looked so beautiful tonight. fuck—" his words falter, the shaky gasp making your thighs press together. "y’know i love that dress on you. can’t believe i wasn’t—hah—there to fuck you in it."

you grin, a wicked curl tugging at the corners of your lips. “i could keep this dress on a little longer for you if you’d like me to, baekhyunie,” you purr, your voice a delicate weave of honey and innocence, teasing just enough to leave him craving.

his breath hitches, a sharp exhale breaking free as his head falls back, throat exposed in a display of surrender. “hah— fuck, s-say that again,” he rasps, eyes clenched shut like he’s bracing himself against the tidal wave you’ve unleashed. his hand moves faster now, the slick sound of his strokes filling the space between you.

you tilt your head, feigning naivety, your eyes wide and sweet like sugar dusted cherries. “huh? say what, baekhyunie?” your voice lilts with mock innocence, the act so it’s almost cruel.

as you shift, the delicate strap of your dress slips, baring your shoulder and collarbone—a canvas of temptation. soft, lickable, and oh-so-bitable. baekhyun's gaze sears through the screen, his mind unraveling with reckless fantasies, aching to bridge the distance and claim you, over and over again, losing himself in you until the sun rises.

the sight of you, the way his name drips from your lips—it’s his undoing. his rhythm falters, the once-steady motion of his hand becoming erratic, desperate. he’s unraveling, and you can see it in the furrow of his brow, hear it in the staggered cadence of his breath. you lean closer, your voice dropping into a sultry whisper.

“gonna cum f’me, baekhyunie?”

the way your voice softens his name, rolling off those plush lips, breaks him into pieces. the sensation crashes over him, an overwhelming rush that leaves him shaking, the heat of his release spilling in thick, white streaks across his toned stomach, splattering his shirt in wild, chaotic lines. your name escapes him in a breathless murmur as he rides the last tremors of his high.

you smile, satisfied with the mess you’ve made of him, the power you wield with nothing but your voice and a knowing glance.

as he comes down, his chest heaving, baekhyun peels his ruined shirt off, using it to clean himself up. when his face reappears on the screen, there’s a glint of mischief in his eyes, a wicked curve to his mouth.

“your turn, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice still rough with pleasure.

[danggirlronpa]

If it's not too much trouble, do you have headcanons for Kotoko/Monaka? I like to imagine post-canon they work out their issues with each other and get to a much healthier place, like, when they're teenagers. I related a lot to Kokoto's toxic relationship with Monaka, I definitely had relationships like that when I was in elementary school too. It's kind of nice to imagine a world where - whether romantically or platonically - they work out their issues and work out, even if that might not be exactly realistic, aha...

Oh MAN do I have post-canon Warriors of Hope headcanons. I really do love imagining these kids and the lives they lead when they come of age.

I try not to use read mores, but this one got way longer than the usual headcanon posts, and it very much is less "Kotoko/Monaca headcanons" and more "elaborate set-up for how Kotoko and Monaca feel about their crimes as teenagers." So more under the cut I guess!

Firstly, some setup. I love adoptive family relationships, and especially mother/child adoptive relationships. So of course I love daydreaming about Aoi "Bleeding Heart" Asahina adopting Kotoko, and it becoming a Kyoko (or Miaya!)/Hina-parenting-Kotoko, friends-to-moms slowburn. SOMEONE'S adopting these children, and it's not Komaru "I Just Spent A Full Year In Solitary Isolation (:" or the "We Taser Ourselves To Decide Whether The Serial Killer Fronts (:" Fukawas. Hina's upbeat, she keeps it light, and unlike Makoto "Spotless" Naegi, she understands the guilt of attempting/committing mass murder. Kyoko isn't quite any of that but deep in my heart. Through The Power Of Love And Elaborate Metaphors About Her Relationship To Her Father

And I mean. I'm going to be honest. Monaca's, like, 10. She spends three days in space before she goes 1. Wow this sucks 2. I did not in fact prepare enough materials to live like this indefinitely. I'm like 10. I packed enough for about 13 hours and thought I was good Forever. I need more marshmallows.

So it takes Monaca all of half a week to admit her failures and crash land somewhere on earth. The island with the Remnants? Misaki and Takumi? In-universe versions of the V3 students as adults? Personally I'm a fan of Yasuhiro and Kanon adopting her in the world's absolute weirdest fantasy. What matters is SOMEONE finds her. And we get Mod Loves Sappy Adoptive Relationships V2: Now With The Green One.

Because listen. Listen. These are kids. They have committed heinous, unforgivable crimes of extreme ethical concern, and they are also ten years old. Their only frame of ethical reference is a manipulator and abuser so good at what she does that she ended the world. People generally remember this with the other Warriors, but they almost always set it aside for Monaca, so I want to be clear: Monaca Towa is redeemable. Because she was 10 years old, and the moment she was out from under the thumb of the people who taught her how to do these cruel and unusual things, her first plan was Run Away To Space To Escape The Things That Have Happened Here. They're children.

THAT MEANS A LOT OF GUILT. NO ONE HAS EVER NOT BECOME A PUDDLE OF REGRET ABOUT SOMETHING THEY DID IN MIDDLE SCHOOL.

In general, I actually think Kotoko struggles with guilt the least amongst the Warriors. Firstly, I think having a parent who understands and can help her come to grips with what she's done from a very personal place really helps her work through it. But I also think Kotoko is low-empathy in general. I think eventually, she comes to understand intellectually what she's done wrong, but I don't think she ever struggles with the idea that she shouldn't have done it. I think she would be very practical about the circumstances that she was in, and in her mind, well. What else was she supposed to do? She'd been abused all her life. She was up against Junko Enoshima. Obviously what she did was wrong, but any other kid in that situation would've, in Kotoko's mind, done the same.

On the other hand, I believe Monaca would get hit with guilt very intensely once she finally processed everything she'd been through at high-school age, but that she would absolutely keep that under wraps and act as though it was meaningless to her.

Monaca is, in my opinion, a compulsive liar. You can see that in a lot of canonical ways, but I choose to extend it a bit to headcanons - it's not that she Doesn't need a wheelchair, it's that she has days when she needs it and days when she doesn't, and pretending she never needed it at all gives people a huge shock. She didn't plan to not kill herself with the rest of the Warriors as a prank; she really planned to do it, but people look at her when she says that. It's a defensive mechanism, and a method of feeling in control. At least I can choose for them to hate me by lying and being terrible, instead of being hated when I haven't done anything.

So I think, when she is finally faced with the enormity of what she has done, Monaca does what her first instinct is always to do: runs away from it and lies herself into culpability. Of course I killed all those terrible adults, and now that I'm almost their age, I'll just die instead of becoming one of them! That sort of thing. I think she traps herself into her own persona, no matter how hard she tries to improve, because Monaca is a child who internalizes until she breaks.

So when Kotoko and Monaca meet coincidentally at high-school age. Ho boy. Kotoko who still sort-of blames Monaca who blames herself, and neither of them completely aware of how to comfort a person or how to hate a person in a way that isn't lethal...oh the GROWTH. The Strawberry Wine by Deana Carter of it all

[stunie]

it’s so easy to forget that you can literally write whatever you want

[lucaswarmhotchocolate]

Muggle college AU where Harry sneaks into tom’s dorm room (after making sure to drug tom’s water earlier ofc) and takes pictures of him while he sleeps and posts them online. because god fucking dammit, Tom riddle is the most annoying RA that could possibly exist, and he wants a little bit of light revenge.

Harry realizes that “light revenge” may have gotten out of hand around the same time he started stripping Tom, and suddenly he was balls deep in both Tom riddle and a felony. The gravity of the situation did nothing to prevent Harry from taking a video, even though it was just more evidence that could be used against Harry.

[subtlybrilliant]

I miss my dad.

I miss my aunt.

Today has been so hard.

This weekend has been so hard.

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[amoripomoea]

i keep getting hit with these like. weird waves of sadness over liam's passing yesterday?? a big chunk of what shaped me as a person during my teenage years is gone and it's such a weird and sad feeling.

i don't really have the words to describe how i feel about this (well, i do, but they're not like. brief. or clear). the liam payne i'm sad about losing was gone awhile ago, i know that, but part of me always hoped he would get to receive the professional help he so clearly needed.

anyone who was obsessed with one direction knew that liam really lost his way and fell into addiction almost immediately after the band broke up. he's needed help for years. he did go to rehab awhile back and started to heal a bit but clearly things got bad again.

i'm aware that death does not make someone innocent. you are allowed to be surprised and sad by the tragic loss of a life while also holding them accountable for the shitty things they've done. those two things can and should coexist. i know the internet is allergic to nuance but PLEASE exercise some critical thinking and perspective. this is not as black and white as it seems to be on the surface. keep in mind that there's also a lot that we just don't know.

this grief is so nuanced. like i said, i don't support what he has done in the past -- i haven't supported him in YEARS because of the things he's said and done. i stand w all of his victims that spoke up, and i hope they're all doing okay rn and that they know that none of this is their fault.

there's something so weird and sad about combing the emotions of coming to terms with the fact that the person you idolized as a teen turned out to be a bad person, along with the rough and weird feelings of grief that come with that same person dying suddenly, gruesomely, and tragically.

this is all so tragic, so weird, so surreal, and SO hard. there's a lot of weird conflicting and nuanced emotions running through not just me, but so many of us who grew up loving one direction. i'm aching for 12-15 year old me who wouldn't recover from this. i'm destroyed for his son who survives him, his family, friends, and the other one direction boys. my heart also aches for his victims, who i'm sure are experiencing a lot of conflicting and weird emotions about this. i can't imagine what they're all going through right now and can only hope they're doing okay.

this is the first major celebrity death ive experienced, at least with a celebrity i genuinely loved and obsessed over growing up. ik a lot of people feel the same way too.

whatever you're feeling about this right now is valid. you have the right to feel however you feel. you can mourn the loss of someone who meant a lot to you as a child while also remembering that they turned out to be a bad person.

sorry i keep talking abt this but it hits so hard. like i said like 30 times this is so weird and hard and confusing to a lot of us one direction fans who stopped supporting liam a while back bc of his actions. grieving with perspective and nuance is necessary here but it's not easy.

i hope my fellow one direction fans are doing okay today <3

[anxiously-sidequesting]

okay wait stop. okay wait for me, okay just- (steps around my mountains of garbage and slime)

Listen we all love Malorn Ashthorn (as we fuckin' should) but I just realized. okay, just how much undeserved mess that poor blessed soul went through

Like okay think about it for a second. He's introduced early on in the first arc as Malistaire's former top student and now impromptu Death Professor at Ravenwood, okay so we all know that. But the implications man. The implications, I didn't think about the IMPLICATIONS.

He's like this 12 year old kid, okay. Already even BEFORE his official appearance in the game, imagine being a straight A student, one of the very best (to the point where it's noted and revered amongst the other professors AND your fellow students), under THE Malistaire Drake, who, even before his villain arc, was also one of the most esteemed and powerful Death professors ever. Like I couldn't even keep a C in school that shit must be wild

AND THEN. And then, your professor literally commits several war crimes, causes irreversible damage and trauma, and becomes a national criminal against.... the universe???? Like Malistaite commits heinous terrible shit, and sinks the entire Death School along with him. And then it falls to Malorn Ashthorn, once again who's like a teenager, to PICK UP THE METAPHORICAL PIECES because he had no choice. He was literally the only candidate to fill in Malistaire's place, a legend turned monster, to teach and guide GENERATIONS of new children that are HIS AGE or even OLDER THAN Malorn is.

And then the actual changes in the school. Malorn, former student, now has to learn how to become a professor with his limited knowledge of Death Magic. Like imagine filling in for the college astrophysicist teacher when you've only graduated 6th grade. He has to change his SCHEDULE, from waking up early as a student to get up and get ready even EARLIER as a professor to prepare the classes HE comes up with. Not to mention late nights grading hundreds of papers from multiple students??? AND he either is the ONLY tutor (which means more overtime and work for him, to personally help individual students with different Death lessons), or he has to actually call upon help from other students to help him get his job done.

And then there's like the relationship aspect of it. Malorn is literally just a child, like any other student, but adopting a role as a professor, an adult, means that he also has to adopt a certain mindset. Malorn literally HAS to be patient, HAS to be guiding and nurturing, HAS to be the adult in every situation in order to be a GOOD professor. Malorn has to train hard not only in magic to be ahead of the others in order to teach them properly, but has to retrain his mindset to be ABLE to handle to teach properly. Like you can't be a regular tween teaching other tweens.

And then it's just the pressure after that. The PRESSURE GUYS, of not only living up to one of the most talented and accomplished the school has ever seen, but deal with the fact that the very same person also became a tyrant and war criminal and left Malorn, his most promised student, in his place. Like I could easily imagine the rumors, the judgement, and the fear surrounding that boy, wondering if he would ever turn out to be the same as Malistaire.

No one asked for this. This soap opera I mean, nobody asked me about Malorn Ashthorn or this long ass post but I don't care because I'm crying. Girls I'm crying my entire bed is wet with tears of despair and snot. Malorn is literally a sweetie oh my God he does not, and never will deserve this shit I'm so sorry honey. Sweetie Malorn baby I'm so fuckign sorry, i'm so so sorry,

[nerosdayinanime]

giyuu doesnt realize hes doing it

(edit: reblogged w more stuff check it vv)

[britneyshakespeare]

the fact that all grown up ran for five seasons is unaccountable

[eekitseve]

I feel like we should use the excuse that knowing someone for 7 years doesn’t mean being friends with them for 7 years. Like I know people from high school but hell if I know what they’re doing now