#crying sobbing like a toxic ex

[erroryeswifi]

One of my favourite followers unfollowed me :(

[emawinslow]

yeah no I'm never recovering from that

[flwrstqr]

CALL ME YOURS !! (LHS - 이희승)

SYNOPSIS: ever since you broke up with your ex, choi jiho, who cheated on you with another girl, you have always wanted to get revenge. when you meet jiho again at school, to prove you were over him and had met a better man, you told him you were meeting someone. you lied and told him you were meeting a random guy who you pointed at on your school's bulletin board for being the top student in the whole school. coincidentally, that guy was lee heeseung, known for his quiet and smart personality. then jiho demands to meet him in real life, hand-in-hand with you, which now you have a huge problem. first, you have to find heeseung, and next, you have to date him.

pairing: topstudent!heeseung x popularstudentfem!reader

genre: fake dating, s2l, romance, high school au, sunshine x cold

warning(s): reader + heeseung being in denial, your ex cheated, kissing, inspired by a k-drama (i forgot which one), two of them being awfully awkward at first, swearing, grammar errors, party, lots of love confusions, does say that winter is dating beomgyu, punching, fighting

word count: 7k

AN: guys im back with a long au, i never really write long aus, so this is slightly new to me. i did proofread it but not super thoroughly so if i made any mistakes, my bad for that .

taglist: @yenqa @mylstserenade @jlheon @naespas @jooniesbears-blog @erehkinnie30 @wonifullove @miumiuisme @shawnyle @dimplewonie @beomluvrr @jiaant11 @teddywonss

ALL YOU WANTED WAS REVENGE. Sweet revenge against your idiotic ex, Choi Jiho.You remember the moment you walked into the girls locker room to go deliver something to your PE coach, only to find the room ���empty”. It hit you like a ton of bricks when you stumbled upon Jiho, locking lips with your “supposed” best friend, Kim Haeun, in the girl’s locker room Lip on lip, eyes closed, moving in sync. Heart shattered, tears streaming, you bolted, tripping over a basket of equipment and scraping your knees quickly catching attention of Jiho. His voice trailed after you, calling your name as you fled into the distance.

Losing both your best friend and your boyfriend cut deep. Being single was one thing, but being unable to find anyone who measured up to Jiho was another.

"YN, your standards for men are too high!" Karina remarked from the bleachers during PE.

You shrugged. "They've always been high." For the past 4 months, no one was your type compared to Jiho, the perfect boyfriend in your eyes: tall, handsome, a football player, rich, and occasionally nice.

"It's because of that disgusting asshole," Ningning scoffed.

"He isn't disgusting!" you retorted.

"YN, you need to get over him. This is just becoming toxic, plus you dumped him in front of the whole school ," Giselle chimed in. She was right. You vividly recalled the moment, twenty minutes before the bell, eyes swollen from crying all night but disguised behind makeup, replaying yesterday's scene you witnessed in your mind.

"YN!" Jiho's voice snapped you back to reality, his figure rushing towards you.

"Can we talk?" he asked, breathless.

"Talk about how you fucking cheated on me? Fine, I'll hear you out," you yelled, drawing everyone's attention.

"Can you keep it down, YN?" Jiho snapped.

"Sure I’ll quiet it down when I want to. Go to your girlfriend, Haeun. Why does she have to be my best friend, out of all people?" you glared.

"YN, let's talk inside," Jiho groaned, irritated.

"No, we're done. I never wanted you anyway, you asshole. Just fuck off," you spat, the words stinging even as they left your mouth The next thing you knew the scene spreaded like wildfire at school.

"Are you okay?" Minjeong asked as you sobbed at the lunch table.

"Listen, YN, Jiho wasn't worth it. You saw what you saw," Karina tried to console.

"I don't know... it's just over now," you murmured, head in your hands.

"Maybe it's a sign to find someone better," Ningning suggested.

"I don't know..." you whispered, feeling lost, unable to move on.

“I’m for sure there’s someone way better than him.” Giselle added (biggest lie you ever heard).

MONTHS PASSED AND YOU FOUND YOURSELF IN THE LIBRARY, lending a hand to the librarian in organizing books before school started. As you went about your duties, dropping off books and preparing to fetch more, the one and only, Jiho, stood by the school bulletin board waiting for you. It had been months since the breakup, and yet, the wound was still fresh, a constant reminder of the pain (really yn..)

"I wanted to say a word," Jiho awkwardly mumbled, eyeing you for a reaction, his hands in his pockets.

You reluctantly agreed, "Fine, make it quick. I'm busy."

"I broke up with Haeun," he stated, the words hanging in the air.

"What?" Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

"I ended things with Kim Haeun," he said more firmly. His words sank in, but confusion lingered. But why was he telling you this now? Then it hit you—he wanted you back. Yet, on a day when you missed him, you suddenly felt nothing. He had left you for another girl (well, technically, you dumped him), betrayed you, and now he came back because you were his second choice?

"Why are you telling me this?" You managed to maintain calm.

"I still like you, YN LN," he confessed, causing your eyes to widen. You bit your lip, before you could accept his confession like your 5 minute ago self would. Your heart didn’t thump like it did when you were around him. Your hands weren’t sweaty like they were when he looked at you before. Your mind wasn’t racing like it was when Jiho confessed to you for the first time, months ago. It was nothing like any of that–you just felt empty and cold.

"I'm seeing someone," you blurted out, realizing the lie you had just said. Crossing your fingers, you hoped he wouldn't ask about the identity of your "so-said boyfriend"

"Who?" he inquired, raising his eyebrow. Desperately searching for an excuse, your eyes landed on the bulletin board, displaying a list of top students and their ID photos.

Rushing over, you pointed at the first photo and name you saw, "That guy," you said, reading his name, "...Lee Heeseung! I'm dating him."

"Oh, really?" Jiho cast a skeptical glance between you and the photo, a smirk playing on his lips. "Then," he leaned in closer, "how about you introduce me to him, hand-in-hand, next week? I want to see if he's worthy of you." Panic rushed in you, and your throat went dry. You forced a smile and nodded in reluctant agreement.

"Sure," you replied.

"Great, see you next week," Jiho said, turning and walking away. You were officially doomed. Now, you have to find this Lee Heeseung and give him a deal.

YOU WANDERED DURING LUNCH, TRYING TO FIND HEESEUNG. You only heard about him because he got a perfect score on the hardest SAT exams, but you didn't really pay attention.

"Heeseung? Sorry, I don’t know who he is," a girl replied when you asked her about Heeseung.

"It's okay," you smiled politely and left, feeling frustrated.

"I'll never find him," you groaned to Karina, who was with you while you asked everyone about Heeseung.

"Why did you lie to Jiho then? I thought you weren’t over him. Last night, you were giggling at how cute Jiho is and how much you want him back," Karina asked, taking a bite of her apple.

"I don’t know. He was just using me. I knew it because he and Haeun broke up," you explained, letting out a soft sigh. "He saw me as a second option, and I got into this mess because I lied to him about having a boyfriend who's probably some ugly nerd."

"I told you he was using you the entire time! But you didn’t trust me!" Karina scolded you.

"Sorry, I was just blind back then," you mumbled.

Before your last attempt, you walked up to a boy and asked the same question you’d been asking everyone.

"Do you know Lee Heeseung by any chance?" you asked. The boy's eyes widened, and a big grin spread across his face.

"Yes, I do! For what reason?" the boy quickly replied. For the first time, someone knew who he was.

"Do you know where he is then?" you inquired, hoping he could help.

"I do. I’m close friends with him. Come, I’ll show you where he is," the boy replied as you followed him, waving to Karina goodbye.

As the two of you awkwardly made up the long staircase, you arrived at the rooftop of the school. When the boy opened the door, a lonely figure sat by the table, reading a book.

"Heeseung!" the boy called out, causing the figure, supposedly Heeseung, to turn around.

"What, Jungwon?" Heeseung raised his eyebrow, quickly glancing at you and then back at Jungwon.

"YN was looking for you," Jungwon quickly said, nudging you to speak. Heeseung obviously knew who you were, known for dating Jiho and your soft-delicate visuals.

You walked towards him awkwardly, “Uhm…can we talk privately?” Slightly glancing at Jungwon, signaling him to leave quietly. As Jungwon left quietly, you cleared your throat.

“So…” you started off a bit nervous, “I need some help?”

"What help?" Heeseung answered a bit coldly, “If it’s anything studying related, I’m not interested-”

"I need help dating," you blurted, realizing what you had just said.

"What?" Heeseung gave you a puzzled look, "Dating what?"

"I lied to Jiho. Okay, I don’t have interest in you or even Jiho. I lied to him saying that I’m meeting you," you spilled the news. Heeseung had an empty look on his face as you tried to read his expression.

“Why me?” Heeseung arched his eyebrow.

“You were the first name I saw,” you explained, “So can you fake date me? I need it, please,” you pleaded, hoping he would accept your request.

"No, I’m not interested," he turned around, quickly getting his book to start reading again. Your jaw dropped, no one had ever rejected you like that.

"What?" you spat, feeling terrible that you got rejected for the first time.

"I’m not interested in you or in dating. So, I strongly believe that I shouldn’t do it," he said, quickly focusing his attention on his book.

“I’ll do anything!” you begged, feeling desperate.

"Anything?" Heeseung quickly averted his attention to you, dropping his book slightly to make eye contact with you.

"Yes, anything. I’ll do anything," you replied, hoping he would accept it.

"Then introduce me to her," Heeseung answered. You looked confused.

"Who's her?" you raised your eyebrow.

Heeseung’s cheek slightly blushed, it was the first time you saw him so embarrassed. “Karina,” he mumbled under his breath. Suddenly it clicked—he was interested in Karina, your best friend.

You gave an eager look, “Deal! I’ll introduce you to her after all of the fake dating.” You pulled out your hand.

"Deal," Heeseung replied, shaking your hand.

A  FEW DAYS LATER, YOU FIND YOURSELF in the convenience store, an unexpected place for someone like you—a popular girl to be at. Your outfit was simpler than usual, baggy gray sweats and a white tank top, with your hair thrown up in a messy high ponytail and an oversized jacket completing the look.

You scan the snack aisle, contemplating your choices, when the doorbell chimes, signaling a customer had entered. Your heart thumps as you recognize the last person you expected to encounter—Heeseung. He's dressed in simple gray sweatpants and a black hoodie, his messy hair somehow adding to his charm.

Your eyes lock momentarily before you both awkwardly shuffle towards each other. "What brings you here?" you ask, surprised to find him in a convenience store at 2 am.

"Why are you up so late?" he counters, swiftly turning the interrogation on you.

"I couldn't sleep. What's your excuse?" you reply.

"Studying," he responds matter-of-factly, grabbing an energy drink before swiftly checking out and leaving. You hurry after him, catching up as he strides down the street.

"Studying late? That's a first," you mutter to yourself, gazing up at the night sky.

"I don’t want to flunk my classes, unlike you," he retorts, avoiding your gaze.

"I'm not that hopeless," you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, you are," he quips, taking a sip of his drink.

"Hey!" you playfully threaten, pulling back your arm as if to hit him. But then something unexpected happens—you catch sight of Heeseung's smile, genuine and endearing. You quickly shake off any wayward thoughts; after all, you're just his so-called “girlfriend”.

"Where do you live?" you inquire, trying to change the subject.

"Stalker much?" Heeseung teases.

"Shut up," you retort, rolling your eyes.

"I live in the house near the college," he answers, disposing of his empty can.

"Do you walk to school?" you ask, trying to prolong the conversation.

"Yeah," he replies.

"Then... do you want to walk together tomorrow?" you suggest, stopping in the quiet and empty streets.

"Walk together?" he repeats, surprised.

You nod and quickly add, "Yeah, you know, for you know..."

Heeseung considers for a moment before agreeing, "Sure."

"Great! I'll come by your place at 7 am since school starts at 7:30!" you smile, remembering to ask for his number. He inserts it into your phone, adding, "Don't blow up my phone."

"I'm not that obsessed with you," you retort.

"I think you are," he jokes.

"In your dreams," you shoot back.

YOU FOUND YOURSELF STANDING OUTSIDE Heeseung's door, feeling an awkward knot tighten in your stomach as you waited, fingers fidgeting nervously. After what seemed like hours, the door swung open to reveal a woman, likely Heeseung's mother.

"Hi, who are you?" she inquired, her eyes curious but welcoming.

"I'm YN LN," you replied, managing a warm smile despite your nerves. "A friend of Heeseung's."

"Heeseung's friend?" Her expression softened into a delighted grin. "I didn't realize Heeseung had such a pretty friend. I'm Heeseung's mother. Just call me Mrs. Lee."

"Mom..." Heeseung's voice interrupted, his presence suddenly beside you as he quickly shuffled to put on his shoes.

"Heeseung, she seems like a sweet and pretty girl," Mrs. Lee remarked before Heeseung darted, closing the door behind him before his mother could say anything else.

"Your mother seems really nice," you commented, attempting to ease the tension.

"Mhm," Heeseung mumbled, his attention already diverted to his book that he quickly pulled out from his backpack. 

With a pointed look, you reached out your hand, silently urging him to remember.

Heeseung sighed, rolling his eyes in mild exasperation, but he relented, tucking the book away and clasping your hand in his. The touch sent a jolt through you, a feeling you couldn't quite grasp.

"So..." you began, eager to break the silence. "Where's your class?"

"Class 3-B," he replied shortly, his gaze fixed ahead as if unwilling to meet your eyes.

"Mine's right next door." you exclaimed, hoping to inject some enthusiasm into the conversation. "Perfect! Do you know what this means?"

"What?" Heeseung's response was clipped, his tone guarded.

"That I can come over to your class during lunch!" you declared with a wide grin, trying to lighten the mood.

"I eat on the rooftop, alone." he added, emphasizing the word alone.

"Ah, I forget you’re a loner," you teased gently.

"At least I'm productive with my free time," he retorted.

"Well, today we're together!" you suggested brightly and then with a smirk you whispered, "And I can introduce you to... Karina." The mention of your best friend's name made Heeseung blush slightly.

"Shut up," he groaned, moving to cover your mouth with his free hand just in case you would say anything else.

"Like I want to-" feeling a sudden hard squeeze in your hand "Ow..."

"Now shut up before I squeeze harder," Heeseung warned, though there was a hint of genuine threat in his tone.

"You're no fun," you muttered. Eventually, you arrived at the school, fingers still intertwined as you drew curious whispers from the hallway.

"YN and Heeseung, dating? No way..." you heard a girl whisper by the lockers, causing a flush of embarrassment to color your cheeks. When you reached Heeseung's classroom, you reluctantly released his hand, noticing the tension in his posture as he leaned against the doorframe.

"See you later?" you asked, "I'll be on the rooftop during break."

"Alright..." Heeseung's response was hesitant, but then came an unexpected word that caught you off guard. "...baby." The pet name hung in the air.

"R-right... anyway, bye..." you stammered, feeling a rush of different emotions. You'd been in relationships before, but you were never so flustered for such small things like that. Could it be... you weren't falling for him, right?

HEESEUNG SETTLED AT THE EMPTY TABLE on the rooftop, his gaze drifting across the school grounds. The rooftop held a special meaning for him, offering a quiet place to read, barely visited by others.

“Heeseung!” Your voice sliced through the silence, drawing his attention. He glanced up to see you approaching, two lunches in hand.

With a bright grin, you placed the meals in front of him. “I brought lunch!”

"Thanks," Heeseung replied , his tone cool as he examined the homemade kimbap. As you both sat down, awkwardness settled between you, by the avoidance of eye contact.

Summoning his courage, Heeseung brought a question that had lingered in his mind for months. "Why did you like Choi Jiho?"

Your eyes widened at the unexpected, catching you off guard. You paused, hesitating with how to respond.Memories of Jiho flooded your mind. You had forgotten about him for the past 4 days due to Heeseung being on your mind 24/7.

You cleared your throat, summoning a bitter lie to your lips. "I... uh, he was nice, I guess."

"Did Jiho even like you back?" Heeseung's question cut through the air. That’s when you realized something. You remembered the way Jiho would never defend you in any moment or barely spend time with you. And the time when he did? He would always be on his phone. You realized how stupid you were as you thought the moments where he just wanted attention from the public by kissing you or flirting with you meant that he loved you. 

"I... I don't know," you admitted. Deep down, you knew the painful reality—that Jiho had used you.

"Oh, okay..." Heeseung responded, sensing the weight of your words. "So, let's change the top—"

"I know he didn't like me," you interjected, your gaze drifting to the sky before meeting Heeseung's gaze. "I know he was the worst boyfriend I could ask for."

Confusion flickered across Heeseung's features at your sudden confession.

"I was blind. I regret it," you murmured, your gaze falling to your lap. "But it's in the past."

Heeseung regarded you with his usual stern and cold look. "Then why did you tell Jiho you were meeting someone else?"

"Because... I wanted to prove I was happier now," you muttered, grappling with your tumultuous emotions.

"Are you?" Heeseung's gaze bore into yours.

"I... I think I am," you replied

"You 'think'?" Heeseung pressed, his tone firm.

"I'm happier than before," you insisted, though the vagueness of your answer hung in the air.

"That's not specific," Heeseung challenged.

"I can't be specific," you confessed, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Because I don't know, at all."

"Are you sure?" Heeseung persisted.

"Heeseung, it's my feelings, yes I'm sure," you asserted.

"I'm just physically and mentally curious, so it allured me to—" Heeseung began, but you cut him off.

"Okay, I think that's enough. The bell's going to ring soon. Text me later!" With that, you rose abruptly, snatching your lunch bag and offering a quick wave before descending the stairs back to class.

HEESEUNG LAY ON  HIS BED,  staring up at the ceiling. He knew he should be studying, but your words about Jiho lingered in his mind. "I'm happier than before." Why was he even pondering such things? Lost in thought, he was jolted back to reality by a faint buzz from his phone. Retrieving it, he found a message from you.

YN LN: heeseung!! all my friends rejected me to go to the mall TT, so wanna go together?? ><

Heeseung paused, a moment of surprise flashing across his features. You were asking him to go to the mall with you? It felt almost like you were asking him out. He composed himself and replied:

Heeseung: Sure. Send location and time, I’ll be there.

Putting down his phone, he realized the weight of his agreement. He had just agreed to go on a date with you. And now, he needed to get ready. Hastily, he rummaged through his closet, seeking out a suitable outfit. Opting for his lone stylish varsity jacket paired with jeans, he ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tidy it up.

Rushing to the mall, he found you leaning against a store wall, your attention fixed on your phone. As he approached, a cupid seemed to strike him with an arrow as his cheeks flushed. The simplicity of your outfit and the gentle cascade of your hair rendered you utterly captivating.

You looked up, catching sight of Heeseung's slightly stunned expression, and greeted him with a warm smile, gesturing for him to join you.

"Hi," Heeseung muttered, still awestruck by your beauty.

"Hi!" you returned the greeting with equal warmth. "I just need to buy some makeup for my friends, or maybe myself, and possibly shop around! Anything you need?"

"Not necessarily," Heeseung replied, scanning the mall.

"Okay then, follow me," you said, seizing his arm and leading him to the nearest makeup store. Arriving at the lip product section, you perused the selection of lipsticks, lip glosses, and lip tints. Grabbing a random lip tint, you turned to Heeseung.

"Can I try it on you? I need to see if it looks good on a person," you suggested.

"What? When did I sign up for this?" Heeseung sighed.

"Please," you pleaded, giving him your best pout. "I can erase it right after."

"Fine."

With careful precision, you applied the tint to his lips. The warmth of his breath brushed against your cheeks and neck, sending a flurry of sensations through you. Your heart raced as you admired his perfectly shaped lips, now tinted with color. After smoothing out any unevenness, you stepped back to admire the look.

"Hmm... I think this works," you concluded, grabbing the new tint to go check out and pay for it.

YOU SAVORED THE SWEET TASTE OF vanilla ice cream as you took a bite, sitting side by side with Heeseung on the bench outside the convenient store where you first met. He listened attentively as you shared stories about your friends and family.

"And then Giselle told me—" Your sentence was cut short as Heeseung's fingers delicately wiped a smudge of ice cream from the corner of your lips.

"Mhm?" He hummed softly, encouraging you to continue. Your heart fluttered at his touch, beating rapidly in your chest.

"...y-yeah," you stammered, trying to regain your composure, your gaze drifting to the hues of the sunset painting the sky in shades of blue and orange.

"Are you done with your story?" Heeseung inquired, to which you nodded hastily. You weren't finished, but another word might turn you into a flustered mess.

After a brief silence, you suggested, "How about we go for a walk by the Han River?" Heeseung agreed with a nod, and soon you found yourselves strolling side by side along the riverbank, the gentle sound of water trickling in the background adding to the peaceful atmosphere.

Unexpectedly, Heeseung asked, "Are you going to the dance?" It was a question he wouldn't normally ask.

"The dance?" you raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by his inquiry.

"Yeah, the school dance?" Heeseung clarified, his expression tinged with skepticism.

"Oh, well, yeah," you replied, feeling a pang of disappointment as you remembered his feelings for Karina. He didn't like you, so why did you allow yourself to hope for something more?

"Is Karina going?" Heeseung continued, and you struggled to find your voice, your throat suddenly dry.

"O-oh, uhm, I think she's going..." you managed to say, the reality of your situation crashing down on you like a wave. Foolish fantasies had consumed you for the past five days, but now you bit your lip to stave off the embarrassment and tears threatening to surface.

"I think I'm tired. I'm gonna go home now. Bye, Heeseung," you forced a small smile before turning away, walking in the opposite direction. Heeseung watched you go, a confused expression clouding his features as you moved farther and farther away.

LEANING AGAINST THE WALL, you found yourself lost in thoughts of Heeseung, the person who was on your mind day in and day out. Why did it bother you so much if he had feelings for your best friend, Karina? Why did his presence hold such sway over you?

"YN?" Winter's voice broke through your trail of thoughts,snapping you back to reality.

"Oh, sorry, I was zoning out," you replied, trying to shake off the distraction.

"You've been distant all day. Is everything okay?" Ningning's concern was evident in her voice.

"Just tired, didn't get much sleep last night," you reassured them with a forced smile, hoping they wouldn't press further.

"Are you sure?" Giselle's skepticism lingered, her gaze searching yours.

"It's nothing, just life being complicated," you offered, trying to reassure their worries.

"If you need to talk, we're here for you," Karina chimed in, her comforting touch on your hands a familiar gesture she usually did. How you longed to confess and tell them about Heeseung and the jumble of emotions you felt and fought with, but the fear of ruining your relationships with both him and Karina kept you quiet.

At that moment, it came to you: you were in love with Heeseung. It had to be a mistake right? You could never like someone like Heeseung.  The way your heart thumped when Heeseung did small actions like hold your hand or even wipe off anything from your mouth.

 Yet, you couldn't shake the fear, the fear of history repeating itself with someone like Jiho, selfish and foolish. What was the point of falling for someone who didn't accept your feelings and liked someone else

HEESEUNG HAD REHEARSED EVERY WORD, every breath, for the moment he would finally summon the courage to ask you out for dinner. With trembling fingers, he reached for his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. The weight of his nerves pressed down on him as he prepared to take the risk.

As the phone rang, his heart raced, the sound of your voice on the other end sending a jumble of emotions through him "Hello?" you answered, your voice like music and beauty to his ears.

"Hi..." Heeseung replied, his voice betraying his unease.

"Why did you call me?" you asked, curiosity tinged but yet your voice sounded heavy and drained. Heeseung couldn't help but notice the change in your tone for the past days, wondering if he had somehow caused it. Had he done something wrong? 

"I was just wondering if... uhm... you wanted to go get dinner tonight together?" Heeseung's voice faltered slightly, the weight of his question hanging in the air.

"Dinner tonight?" Your voice held a hint of confusion, but there was also a spark of interest. "When and where?" you inquired.

"At the Japanese place down the block, at 6?" Heeseung suggested, hoping you would agree.

"Sure, I'll see you at 6 then," you replied, your voice brightening slightly.

"Right, anyways, bye!" Heeseung quickly ended the call, a rush of happiness coursing through him. He had done it. He asked you out for dinner.

With a sense of pride, Heeseung flopped onto his bed, his phone resting on his chest as. a wide grin spread across his face. He replayed the conversation in his mind, excited for the evening of day. 

Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, you couldn't contain your excitement. Heeseung. Lee Heeseung. had. Asked. you. out. to. dinner. You, YN LN.  You couldn't help but squeal with delight into your pillow.

Eager to make a good impression, you jumped out of bed and rushed to your closet, rummaging through your clothes in search of the perfect outfit for the occasion. 

HEESEUNG SAT NERVOUSLY, tapping the table as he waited for you to arrive. Within minutes, you rushed in and quickly spotted him.

"Hi!" you greeted with a smile, settling down at the table.

"Hi," he smiled back (inside you felt a flutter at how cute his smile was). You both looked at the menu and ordered as the waiter approached. After eating, you quietly walked outside, enjoying the cool evening air.

The dark, cloudless sky revealed a glimmering array of stars. You admired the view, unaware that Heeseung was watching you, captivated by your beauty.

"The stars are so pretty," you remarked in awe.

"Mhm," he replied, still focused on you. Suddenly, you felt his fingers gently tuck a stray hair behind your ear. Your face flushed as butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

"I have a question, YN..." Heeseung began, and you turned to him, curious.

"Do you... want to go to the dance?" he asked. Your heart raced, your stomach churned, and your head spun. He had just asked you to the dance.

"T-the dance?" you stuttered.

"Yeah... I mean, just as... you know, for visual purposes," he tried to clarify.

"Right..." you nodded, agreeing. "I'll go with you." Heeseung's face lit up with a big grin as you accepted his invitation.

"That's great! I'll, um... see you at the dance then," Heeseung said with a small smile and a wave as you both went your separate ways, heading home with a light heart.

As you walked home, your mind buzzed with excitement. The thought of going to the dance with Heeseung made your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but replay the moment he asked you, feeling a rush of happiness each time. It was like a dream come true, and you couldn't wait for the night of the dance to arrive.

WEEKS FLEW BY, each one filled with anticipation, excitement, and a series of dates. Finally, the much-anticipated day of the dance had arrived. It had been six weeks since you eagerly marked this date on your calendar. Reflecting on the past four months since you met Heeseung, you knew deep down that you were head over heels in love with him. The moment he asked you to the dance, those feelings intensified.

"Do you think this dress is pretty enough?" you asked, twirling in your knee-length black dress adorned with delicate lace details, a sweetheart neckline, and spaghetti straps.  The dress hugged your figure perfectly.

"It's gorgeous," Ningning complimented, deftly assisting with your hair.

"It's perfect, just like you," Winter reassured, adjusting your dress with care.

"Easy for you to say, with Beomgyu as your date," you teased, prompting laughter from your friends.

"And you have Heeseung," Winter smiled, smoothing out the fabric of your dress.

"You two are so cute together," Giselle teased, earning a blush from you.

"I love you guys," you said, feeling grateful for their support as you shared a group hug.

"Even if I'm dating a man, you'll always be my number one," Winter jokes, lightening the mood as you head to Karina's car.

Upon arriving at the dance, the lively atmosphere was perfect. Laughter, music, and chatter filled the room as people talked, danced, and enjoyed themselves. Spotting Heeseung entering the room, you felt a rush of excitement.

He looked perfect in his suit, his hair perfectly styled. Rushing over to him, you greeted him with a beaming smile.

"Heeseung!" you exclaimed. Heeseung looked up, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. I

"You look amazing, YN," Heeseung complimented, his smile genuine.

"Thanks, but you're the one who looks stunning," you replied, feeling your heart flutter as you took in his appearance. "Come on, let's grab some snacks and go have fun!"

The next two hours were filled with laughter, dancing, and cherished moments spent with Heeseung and your friends. However, it was until you excused yourself to the bathroom, to then meet Jiho.

"YN," Jiho's voice cut through the noise, sending a chill down your spine.

"What do you want, Jiho?" you asked, your tone laced with irritation.

"Are you here with your 'so-called' boyfriend, Heeseung?" Jiho taunted, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Yes, and what's it to you?" you retorted, your patience wearing thin.

“Yeah there is.” his smirk widened, “Don’t act stupid, I knew everything.” 

“God I hate you Jiho.”  you spat, feeling your anger rise.

"Come on, YN. Admit you still love me, and everything will go back to normal," Jiho sneered.

“I don’t even like you anymore, Jiho.”  you said firmly, trying to keep your composure.

"Oh, really? Maybe this will change your mind," Jiho said, leaning in closer. You felt his fingers slip into your waist, his grip firm and tight. You felt his face leaning closer to yours. You quickly stepped back and pushed him aside. 

“Are you fucking crazy?” you yelled. 

“YN, why are you so pissed? Not like you like anyone.”  Jiho's eyes bore into yours, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I don’t want to fucking kiss you,” you glared, “Now fuck off please.” 

“Why is it because of Heeseung? Your fake boyfriend? God, he probably doesn’t even like you YN. He only likes you because you're popular.” he laughed. Your heart sank at his cruel words. The words stung as you heard each word. Heeseung was just a stupid fake boyfriend you had. The two of you had never had a real relationship. A real love. Was Heeseung just playing with your feelings? Did Heeseung even love you like how much you loved him? 

"I hate you, Jiho," you whispered before leaving the party alone, your heart felt heavy. 

YOU SPENT HOURS lying in bed, staring out the rain-splattered window, your cheeks damp from the relentless stream of tears. Days had passed since the dance, and you hadn't mustered the strength to leave the confines of your home. 

"YN, you've been here for hours," Karina's voice broke through the silence, her concern evident as she entered your room. 

"Why didn't you text me?" 

"Phone died," you muttered, burying your face deeper into the sheets.

"Tell me what's wrong," Karina urged gently, taking a seat beside you. 

"I don't know," you confessed, your voice barely audible. 

"Come on," Karina coaxed, her comforting presence offering a glimmer of solace. 

"Okay, fine," you relented, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Jiho said some awful things to me at the dance. Now I'm a wreck, and I can't face Heeseung. I'm in love with him, and it's tearing me apart." 

Karina's eyes widened at the torrent of emotions pouring out. "And you kept this from me all this time?" 

"Karina, I didn't know what to do," you admitted, your voice choking with emotion. "I thought Heeseung felt the same way, but then Jiho made me doubt everything."

"How does Jiho know anything? He's not Heeseung," Karina retorted, frustration evident in her tone. "He's just trying to mess with your head." 

"But what if he's right? What if Heeseung was just pretending all along?" you sighed, a heavy weight settling in your chest. 

"YN," Karina's voice softened, her touch gentle as she sought to comfort you. "How do you know Heeseung doesn't like you? Have you talked to him?" 

"I haven't," you admitted, uncertainty clouding your thoughts.

"Then how can you be so sure?" Karina questioned, her eyes searching yours. "Heeseung cares about you, YN. He was worried sick after the dance. He searched everywhere for you and even left the party early out of concern."

"Are you serious?" you asked, a glimmer of hope flickering in your eyes. 

"Dead serious," Karina affirmed, her sincerity unwavering. "Talk to him, YN. You'll see." 

"But what if I'm wrong?" you hesitated, your fear holding you back. "Just trust me on this," Karina reassured, squeezing your hand gently. "Talk to Heeseung. You'll thank me later." Karina offered you a reassuring smile before enveloping you in an embrace.

HEESEUNG WAS SERIOUSLY DEAD WORRIED about you. He thought you were possibly hit by some car or even worse kidnapped. His thoughts wandered as he tried to think of all the possibilities you were. You stopped even coming to school for weeks.

The memory of the dance replayed in his mind like a broken record, haunting him with unanswered questions. Your sudden disappearance after excusing yourself to the bathroom left him questionable and restless. Desperately, he asked your friends as your friends only left him shrugs and quietness making him uneasy of the situation.

When you finally returned after a week-long absence, Heeseung couldn't help but notice the change in you. You awfully looked tired and you had eyebags. And the most important change, you were avoiding Heeseung. Was it something he had done to mess things up?

Heeseung sat at his usual spot on the rooftop, gazing out at the view, trying to get his thoughts out.

"Look who it is, Lee Heeseung," a voice pierced through the silence, pulling Heeseung from his reverie. Turning, he found Jiho leaning casually against the stairway exit, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Heeseung's girlfriend, huh?" Jiho taunted, his words hitting Heeseung like a sudden blow.

"What did you do to YN?" Heeseung's voice was edged with a mixture of anger and concern, his gaze sharp.

"Nothing much, just a little truth-telling," Jiho chuckled, his demeanor full of arrogance. 

"What truth?" Heeseung's tone was laced with urgency, his fists clenched in frustration.

“Just a few things that need to be said. Like how you guys are just dating, nothing more than that.”

Heeseung's jaw tightened as the weight of Jiho's words settled in, his mind reeling with disbelief and anger.

"Do you even know why YN hates you?" Heeseung spat, his voice seething with contempt.

"Why don't you tell me?" Jiho's smirk widened.

"Cause you’re truly an awful person” Heeseung retorted, his patience wearing thin.

“Oh really?” Jiho teased, “I didn’t know.”

Jiho's mocking laughter only fueled Heeseung's rage, his frustration exploding into action as he delivered a swift punch to Jiho's jaw.

"You're really undeserving of her," Heeseung's words echoed in the empty space.

“You could punch me as many times, I don’t care.” Jiho smiled. 

“I would but actually I don’t want to see your ugly face, so fuck off.” Heeseung stormed out of the rooftop leaving Jiho alone on the ground.

IT WAS 1 AM WHEN YOU FOUND YOURSELF at the convenience store, clad in your most comfortable clothes, not even caring if people saw you. The rush of cold air from the conditioner greeted you as you stepped inside, scanning the assortment of snacks. The scent of sweet delights filled your senses, tempting you to buy more. You reached for a snack when the chime of the door signaled someone's arrival.

Looking up, you were met with the sight of Heeseung standing across the store, his gaze fixed on you. It felt like deja vu, reminiscent of the first time you laid eyes on him. Your throat went dry, memories of Jiho's words echoing in your mind: "He probably doesn’t even like you." Anxious, you bit your lip as Heeseung approached.

"Can we talk outside?" Heeseung's voice broke through the tension. With a quiet nod, you followed him out of the store.

"YN, what's going on?" Heeseung's concern was evident as he confronted you, hoping you would answer honestly.

"Heeseung, it's nothing," you lied

"It's not nothing," Heeseung persisted, his tone firm.

"Okay, fine, I'll tell you. I fell in love with you, but then Jiho made me doubt everything. I thought you probably didn’t even like me, maybe you liked Karina instead. What was the point of being with you if I'm only going to hurt myself?" The words spilled out in a rush, leaving you empty.. Heeseung froze at your confession, disbelief in his expression.

"You like me?" Heeseung's eyebrow arched in surprise.

"I know you don't like me—" Before you could finish, Heeseung silenced you with a soft kiss. His lips were soft and perfect.You felt his fingers sliding into your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. Your lips were moving in sync, in the same passion, kissing each other back. You felt his fingers intertwined with yours, drawing soft circles on the back of your hand.

Pulling away, breathless, you attempted to speak, but Heeseung beat you to it. "I like you a lot, YN. I was in denial of my feelings for months, but I realized I was actually in love with you." You widen your eyes at his confession

"Heeseung, you're not lying, right?" suspicion tinged your words.

"Do you think I would ever lie to you?" Heeseung chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear, a gesture that he would always done 

"No, but it all seems non-real," you confessed.

Heeseung's laughter, the sound you cherished the most, filled the air. "Then, will you be my real girlfriend, YN LN?"

"Of course, any day I'll choose you," you smiled, leaning in for another kiss. 

MONTHS HAD PASSED and you found yourself in a state of bliss you never imagined possible. Seated on the rooftop with Heeseung, your fingers intertwined, you gazed out into the view before you, the cool breeze enveloping you in a sense of serenity.

"Look how far we've come," you remarked, a smile gracing your lips as you watched Heeseung absentmindedly draw small patterns on your palm.

"Yeah," Heeseung nodded, his touch gentle and comforting.

"I love you, Heeseung," you whispered softly, your words carrying the weight of your affection.

"I love you more," Heeseung replied in a tender whisper, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck as he leaned in to press a series of delicate kisses along its curve.

"Heeseung, that tickles!" you laughed, squirming slightly at the sensation.

"This is your punishment for getting a 60% on the exam," Heeseung teased, his tone playful yet teasing.

"Hey, I'm not some nerd like you!" you retorted, playfully poking his side.

"Nerd?" Heeseung chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"A cute nerd," you amended with a grin, your heart swelling with affection.

"And you're my cute princess," Heeseung declared, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to your lips, his love for you shining brightly in his eyes. You truly were in love with Heeseung, and you weren’t going to deny it.

[bunnyrafe]

obsessive ex-boyfie rafe who scares everyone away. like if he sees you talking to a guy he’ll beat the absolute shit out of him or he’ll tell your friends lies so that they won’t be your friend anymore. & when you have no one left he calls you and he acts all broken hearted. “come back to daddy baby I miss you.” as he’s secretly laughing on the other end. & yk you shouldn’t but he’s all you have left. next thing yk he’s fucking you absolutely stupid. “so glad you came back to me kiddo…don’t ever leave daddy again, yeah?” (god he’s so mean & protective I need him)

literally on the ground sobbing right now ‘cause he’s so awful but so perfect. kiddo has me 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 he really knows all the things to do and say to keep you right where he wants you… it’s unfair but ummm… you guess you wouldn’t mind being stuck with your rafey forever ‘n ever…

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. dark / taboo themes ahead — please read at your own risk. f!reader, dark & mean!rafe, crying, toxic relationship/dynamic, mentions of blood, allusions to violence, car sex, daddy kink, choking.

you’re blubbering. crying so hard that your lungs burn and drool slips past your lips, nearly making yourself choke. you sniffle loudly, nuzzling your face into rafe’s shoulder because that’s the only comfort you can afford at the moment as you cover the expensive material in your tears.

he doesn’t mind the mess. you’ve both been in this position one too many times before to start caring now.

“c’mon, kiddo…” his voice is deceptively soft. saccharine and syrupy as he presses a few lingering kisses to your dewy forehead— “stop cryin’ for me, okay? you know why i had to do it, yeah? can’t have anyone taking you away from me.”

nodding. that’s all you can bring yourself to do, while he pets and soothes you with his hands that probably still have dried blood on them and bruised, busted knuckles.

everything about him is cruel. from how he loves to how he fights. your head spins, unable to believe that you’re once again in the backseat of his truck, in his lap and feeling crushed into a million pieces that he’ll build back up just to fuck with all over again— “let daddy make it better.”

there’s no way he could actually make it better. but you’ll let him pretend by helping you seat yourself on his cock, pushing your skirt up and yanking your panties to the side. your breathing becomes ragged as you sink down on each inch, feeling complete for the first time in weeks when you’re flush against him and full of his dick.

a mixture of pleasure and disgust pools in your tummy, while pain blooms where his fingers sink into you— your thighs, your ass, your hips. anywhere he can get a good hold on you that allows him to fuck whatever’s left of your brain out of your head. it’s not a difficult task for him to do. he knows everything and anything about you, knows you’re about to cum all over his lap when you catch your bottom lip between your teeth and can only slur out “daddy.”

“never leaving daddy again, huh?” rafe’s question is ground out through his teeth, and you know he expects a response when he suddenly has a grip on your throat, cooing in feigned concern when you whimper— “you’re fuckin’ lucky i don’t smack some sense into you, baby… such a silly girl for thinking you could ever live without me.”

[snowsinterlude]

overprotective, lovesick, deranged.

(yandere coriolanus x reader)

summary: your ex boyfriend couldn't seem to let you go.

if i can't have you, no one can.

trigger.warning: yandere coriolanus, obslove (obsessive love), stockholm syndrome, drugging (no its not for sexual purposes), pregnancy, marriage, horror, depictions to murder (explicit), dubcon, p in v, cockwarming, extremely toxic behavior, unhinged coriolanus, this fanfic contains extreme toxic behavior and too much blood, if uncomfortable with that content, please, don't read it.

"This might get a little messy, I'm sure.

Heads rolling for the one I adore

This may become a little brutal if I'm honest

But it's any-anything for you my dear, I promise"

overprotective.

coriolanus snow was a man of ambition; one of those who won't quiet down until the moment he had what he wanted. this was something that happened to the women he got involved with too.

lucy gray baird was one of those. the moment your now ex-boyfriend was sent to district 12 you could tell something was wrong. you could not care less, though. he wasn't your boyfriend anymore and in your most honest opinion it was something good.

when he came back you were with a different man; one named valentine, who stayed with you when you saw coriolanus kissing lucy gray. who comforted you during this time and who hugged you everynight when the thunders during rain times echoed so hard that made you feel like being killed by one of those.

valentine, who's head was decapitated in front of you.

coriolanus, who was smiling to you as he opened the 'gift' he had prepared to you.

you, who couldn't help but throw up at the sight of your dead boyfriend. you, who passed out by the sick sight of his decapitated head, his eyes opened by strings of a red line, needled carelessly. the same eyes who used to look at you with so much affection and love, now weren't looking at you at all.

when you woke up, your hands were tightly wrapped up in a tight knot that he learned to do as a peacekeeper. strung up reasons.

"good morning, my love." he smiled, kissing your forehead. you were still in the kitchen, dressed in a white dress, you didn't remember putting it on. you didn't like the fabric nor the color of white- it would always get stained too easily. "you finally woke up."

you didn't had to think much to know that what happened wasn't a dream. it was real. he killed your boyfriend.

you opened your mouth, and the scream you left was enough for him to slap you across the face. once you begun to cry, he kneeled in front of you, hands cupping your face as you shaked.

"it's okay baby, snow's here for you,"" he kissed your face, making you melt into crying as hard as you could, sob after sob making your doll heart heavy. "remember you used to call me snowflake?" he asked, and you nodded cowardly, afraid of saying anything that might make him furious. "i'm still your snowflake."

and he hugged you, caressing your scalp as you ugly cried in front of him, but to him, you would never look ugly.

lovesick.

with your face pressed against the mattress, you stared at the gigantic mirror that covered an entire wall, watching yourself.

it's been three months since valentine died, and two months since snow untied you, carried you like a princess bride and bathed you, always murmuring the waltz that played when you both met.

maybe it wasn't so bad after all. he took extra care of you, never slapped you again- it was a relapse. he took care of the red slap mark in your cheek, apploed ointment on you everyday, prepared your favorite meals and left you to your own peace, let you mourn the death of that pathetic boy you decided to date.

it wasn't his fault, right? no- it was. why the hell were you thinking that the victim was the one to put to blame for their own death? are you dumb?

well, you aren't- but you're starting to become.

why were you smiling at him as he showed you the dress he brought you? why did your heart flutter when he made you desserts? c'mon now, he killed your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend?

he wasn't there to protect you now, was he? why would he be important in anyway? of course, he was the sweetest to you, never questioned when you moaned coryo's name instead of his, he knew how hard it was to you.

for fucks sakes, what were you doing? what were you thinking?

coriolanus entered the room he made to you after three knocks, a tray with golden white details on his hand, with two toasts, less than a dozen pancakes that he knew you liked, a cup of strawberry juice and a small bow of green grapes.

once you ate at least half of it and drink the juice, he was by your side, caressing your hair.

"bunny?" he called, taking you off your own state of blankness.

"yes?"

"do you hate me?" you wanted to say yes. wanted to spit on his face for asking such a dumb question after holding you hostage and killing your boyfriend, you truly wanted to.

but you didn’t. "no," and maybe you didn't hated him at all. maybe that juice with the truth-telling pill didn't had much of an effect on you

"hm." he hummed, lips curling into the pretty smile he had. "it's good to know that."

he put the tray aside, laying by your side. why have you been laying like a sick woman at it's death bed? ah. yeah, he didn’t liked the idea of you going away, he said he didn’t want you to leave him. how cute.

you smiled at the thought. then you had to gather all the senses you had left to scold yourself.

it didn't last long though, the moment his hands found your hips and started grinding on you, you felt aroused. you shouldn't be, this was the man that killed your boyfriend. this was the man who slapped you. this was the man who didn't let you go around the house with the excuse that he didn’t want you to leave him.

but of course, your cunt didn't had the same thought that you did. so, by the amount of teasing and the way his soft, slender fingers found your clit almost immediatly, you couldn't help but moan and grind back, feeling as if you were humiliating yourself.

"s-stop that, coryo. please." you said. "i'm still mourning valentine's death-"

"i'm sorry, dove, but your pussy doesn't seem to agree with that." and he rolled your nightgown up, pulled his pants down and finally his dick was grinding against your wetness, the tip teasing your clit as he didn’t went inside, why he wasn't going inside? you needed him in.

your breath hitched at the thought, your hand gripping the sheets as he slowly thrusted, but never inside of you.

"tell me, dove, do you want it in?" he asked, his index finger teasing your clit.

"n..no, i-i don't-" he chuckled at your own lies, you felt like laughing too, the exact moment he kissed your shoulder you had to close your own lips, aware that you would end up smiling at him.

"i don't think you don't want it. tell me, baby, what do you want exactly?"

your breath hitched, you could feel how harder your nipples were compared to before. you shouldn't be wanting this. and you knew that. but you loved him so much.

"y-you. please, i'm sorry, coryo." what were you sorry about? you didn't do anything wrong other than mourn and cry.

"you're forgiven, baby. now, just let me enter you, okay?" you nodded. you were pathetic, that nod was pathetic, looking at you in the mirror was pathetic, seeing how you surrendered so easily to his touch was pathetic- the fact that you were ovulating was pathetic. the fact he knew you were fertile was psychotic, and mostly pathetic cause it was you who let him know about it when you were both dating.

you slurred a long and low moan out of your mouth, your eyes closed shut the second your walls were slowly stretched by his dick, it wasn't as painful as the first time, but you felt like being ripped apart.

dubiously, you let his dick kiss your uterus like never before. you felt so ridiculous when his dick went further into you, when your warm walls squeezed his dick into you, when your pussy felt like gushing and you cockwarmed him with pleasure, and you fucked him back, moving your hips almost like you didn't want him to see you moving.

"you would look so good pregnant, don't you think, baby?" he asked, his hand going upwards and abandoning your clit to pass on your belly. "you'd be so pretty. more than you are already"

you shook your head, panic taking over you.

"p-please, coryo. don't do it, not inside, please. not inside" of course, he didn’t even cared about your mewls, thrusting harder into you, earning a bunch of moans out of your mouth, your voice echoing as he spread your legs and made you look into the mirror to see the mess you were.

your boobs bouncing out of your nightdress, your pussy beautifully welcoming his dick inside your cunt, his balls slapping against your clit due to the pose, and the more you concentreated on the pleasure, you were closer to cumming.

"yeah, keep squeezing me like that, dove" he said into your year, sucking on your neck. you moaned as an answer "i'm gonna fuck my baby's into you."

you squeezed him too tightly, your pussy gushing around him before finally cumming. too good, too good. were all that you could think of.

"such a pretty girl, baby. you will be such a good mom." he said, finally cumming inside of you, the hot seed flowing inside you and leaking a bit.

you turned to see his face, recieving a kiss that you promptly deepened.

you were doomed.

deranged.

his grandma'am was the one to acompany you to the altar. the entire panem was there or outside waiting to see the marriage of the new president snow.

you smiled at him under the veil, your swollen round belly being the one that claimed attention more than anything. you were in fact a beautiful mom, carrying his twin girls in your heart and stomach.

you still loved him after all, who would know?

not even him expected you to say yes, not in the marriage, not at the proposal, and not at any other situation, specially when he was impregnating you.

"do you, mr. snow, accept mrs. y/n as your wife?" the priest asked, a sweet smile on his elderly lips.

"i do."

"and you, mrs. y/n, accept mr. snow as your husband?" he asked to you, and you smiled, cherry lipstick covering your lips.

"i do."

you caved your own grave, and you knew it. but if you died, you would take him with you.

that's what love is about.

[camsthesadgirlnow]

toxic ex!rafe cameron pounding toxic ex!reader while shes on the phone to her bf , trying to reconcile + fix things after an argument. make rafe a cockyyyy bastard, like hes purpose doing things to make her moan louder , while reader is trying her hardesttt to keep it down and talk things through w ha man lmaoooo. @ericareyesgirl thank you for recommending. This one is perfect

Pairings: rafe Cameron x afab!reader, toxic!rafe x toxic!reader

warnings: pure filthy smut, cheating, oral fixation kink, choking, dirty talk, sex p in v, drunk, taking advantage?, exhibition kink?

Toxic

having a heard head boyfriends has its cons. Take now for example, you had a fight over him liking a revealing picture of some girl on ig. You’ve had this same issues and conversation over three times. He knows what he’s doing and yet he doesn’t care.

you came off to blow steam down at a local pub at the country club. It was one of your favorites and very hidden . Just enough for some peace and quiet. And imagine your surprise when you found your ex, rafe sitting down with you. Five shots in and you found yourself back at his house, naked and drunk.

“fuck rafe, please” you begged sobbing

It felt so good but fuck it was so wrong. Your boyfriend was probably worried about you and here you are being bent over your ex’s bed, gripping his sheets and crying like a desperate slut. You got clarity and started mumbling something.

“b-boyfriend my-boyfriend” you stutter out

“what about your boyfriend. You think he’d like seeing you under me, your ass out with me fucking you. You begging for more.” He grips on the back of your neck and lifts your head up “why don’t we call him hmm?” He smirks

“no n-no please rafe” you beg

he grabs your phone and opens it. He clicks on your boyfriend’s contact and clicks on it.

“you’re gonna tell him you love him and you’re sorry.” He instructs

he places me back onto the bed and somehow finds a way to pound me deeper. Making It difficult to keep quiet and not scream in pleasure. The phone still ringing before another voice can be heard on the line. Rafe picks you back up by your hair and places the phone near your lips.

“speak” you hear him whisper

You lick your lips and try to compose your voice as normal as possible and not that you’re getting fucked by your ex. The same ex your boyfriend is insecure of.

“baby Im- im sorry for overreacting, I love you” you somehow spoke out

you feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm and you start crying once more. being drunk and getting fucked is the peak of your life right now. But he doesn’t know that. Not yet anyway.

“awe baby are you crying?” He asks

“y-yes” you moaned out

“baby you okay?” He asks confused

with your eyes rolling back you moan on accident. But you’re too drunk to care. You’re getting the best fuck of your life right now. And you needed this after your poor boyfriend can’t even satisfy you sometimes.

“n/n?”

“daddy please cu-cum in me” you beg “p-please”

rafe takes the phone back to his mouth “you hear that, I’m fucking your bitch” he places the phone on the desk on FaceTime mode.

He flips you over and grabs both your legs and he places them on his shoulders. He grips onto your lower abdomen and starts sinking you down into him. You feel your body just moving down and up and your breast jumping up and down with the motion. Your surroundings being hazy but closing your eyes made it feel better.

You start arching you back and whining as you feel another intense orgasm coming your way.

“daddy-“ you moan

He switches positions and puts you in missionary postion. He enters back inside you as the feeling makes you both moan in pleasure. Your head hit the pillow back as the feeling felt so satisfying. The perfect piece in this puzzle.

He places his thumb inside your open mouth as you suck on it.

“you like this baby? You love when daddy fucks you like this.” He asks still pounding inside of you “he can’t fuck you like me huh? You love this dick don’t you, don’t you.”

your hand gripping his wrist as he moves back to choke you once again. you start feeling that feeling once more and your legs start shaking.

“you close?” He asks

“yes” you whine out

“yeah? you want daddy to fill you up? To remind you that this pussy always belongs to me?” He squeezes harder

“ye-yes p-please” you whimper as he starts moving faster. Showing that he’s also close to cuming. You feel his trusts becoming sloppier and him completely stopping after feeling his cum slipping out as he removes his dick from inside you. He looks back into your phone and realizes your boyfriend hung up. Well ex now.

“I love you princess” he whispers laying on you

As if signing your name in blood, making a deal with the devil. You respond back with those four words that can fuck your life up. But fuck If it’s so bad, why does it feel so good?

“I love you too rafe”

a/n: yall this was shit. my apologies. better fics on the way. I promise🩷

[latenightdaydreams]

Hi, im having a hard Time, and thought about a Kong scenario, where reader goes to Best friend könig crying cause her boyfriend asked her for a Time/break up, so könig consoles her (you know what I mean) and sends a video of the two of them to reader's ex

I hope things get better for you, whatever it is that you're going through. Know you deserve the best in life and love. Please remember to care for yourself and I hope you have a great day/night💖

More Than Friends (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, recording

1.8k word count

📹

.

.

The second König heard your voice on the phone call, he knew what you were going to say happened. While his heart breaks to hear you like this, he’s relieved to hear that toxic man is officially out of your life. He rushed out of his office to the garage, jumping into his SUV before rushing to be by your side.

You lay on your couch in a ball sobbing. This isn’t how you expected your day to go and you’re completely blindsided by your boyfriend’s decision to end things. König is the only person you know would be there for you without judgment, someone that can help distract you from the pain.

About thirty minutes later, there is a knock at your front door. You stand to answer it, wiping your tears onto your oversized t-shirt. On the other side of the door, König stands with his mask off, a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and a box of candies. He has a soft smile on his face as his eyes land on your sad, puffy face.

“Liebling.” König steps forward and wraps his arms around you, bringing you in for a fight embrace. “Come on, let’s go sit.”

König closes and locks your front door, his eyes following your body as you walk to your bedroom. He follows you and sits with you on the edge of your bed, placing the flowers and candy on the nightstand next to him. As he turns his body to face you, he looks over your face with a small smile on his lips.

“You want to talk or cuddle?” He asks, knowing that sometimes you just need to be held.

“Snuggles, please.”

König nods, leaning back onto the bed against your pillows. You climb on the bed snuggling up to him, resting your head on his chest; his massive arms wrap tightly around you. He peppers kisses on the top of your head, enjoying having you this close. It will hurt for now, but in the long run, you’re better off without him. Eventually, you’ll see it too.

“I just feel so stupid.” Your voice cracks as you speak.

“You aren’t stupid. He is, has always been. You’re much better off without him in your life,” König says comfortingly. He moves his fingers to your cheeks to wipe away tears that stain your soft skin.

You tilt your head up to look at him. His pale blue eyes meet yours with a warm smile across his thin lips. He continues to caress your face, enjoying having your body pressed against his. “Don’t look at me with those eyes.” König chuckles softly.

A soft giggle escapes your lips, the first time you’ve smiled since the breakup. Your eyes linger on his for a while. He’s always been soothing to you. His voice, smell, touch. Without warning, you move up slightly and press your lips against his.

König moves his hand from your cheek to the back of your head, holding you into the kiss. Sparkes flow throughout his whole body, he’s been wanting to kiss you for years. While he loves this, he pulls back, wanting to make sure that you’re okay with this.

“Liebling, I don’t want you to make impulsive decisions in the heat of the moment.” His eyes study your face trying to read your expression.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time.” You assure him. It’s true. There has always been a feeling between the both of you, but neither has ever made a move due to being nervous about ending the friendship.

That’s all the König needed to hear; he leans back into the kiss. One hand slips down to your body, squeezing your hip, pressing you against his body. Slowly, he creeps his hand up your side and moves underneath your baggy shirt. He’s pleasantly surprised to find your breasts free without the confines of a bra, cupping one in his large palm and sliding his thumb over your nipple.

“Let me make you feel better, Liebling. Just lay there and enjoy the pleasure.” His lips begin to trail down your jawline to your neck, leaving sloppy open mouth kisses in his wake. In a slow fluid motion, he pushes you on to your back.

König grabs the hem of your shirt with his teeth, lifting it up until your stomach is exposed. Instantly, his lips continue the trail of messy kisses over your body. His hands continue to push up your shirt until your breasts are in full view for him.

“Schön.” He whispers as he leans down and kisses around one of your areolas, licking your nipple with a small flick. The moan that he hears from you pushes him to continue. His lips wrapping around your nipple and suckling while his other hand comes up and squeezes the other breast. In an instant he changes direction and kisses back down your stomach, nipping at your skin as he goes down.

“May I?” König has his fingers wraps around your waist band.

Your eyes meet his, nodding your head. His fingers pull down the elastic of your leggings and underwear. He swallows hard as his eyes fall on your soft mound, instinctively licking his lips as he grows excited to finally be able to taste your cunt.

König leans back in the bed, pulling your leggings all the way off your stunning legs. He holds your right leg up kissing from your ankle up to your thigh. You watch with eager eyes, every kiss feeling euphoric on your sensitive flesh. There is no time wasted as he reaches your pussy. Your natural musk consumes his nostrils, his body has never craved something so much.

Your right leg rests on König’s shoulder as he lowers himself between your thighs. His tongue sticks out, parting your wet folds with his tongue. The second he tastes a drop of you, he drives in. His face becomes squashed between your supple thighs. You brush your fingers through his blonde hair, letting out loud moans of ecstasy. Sucking your clit into his mouth, he moves his head back, letting you go with a pop.

König gently removes your leg from his shoulder and sits up right. He quickly pulls his shirt off, going into his pants pocket to remove his cellphone and place it on the bed next to the two of you. A lustful gaze consumes him as he looks you up and down.

“That man is a fool for letting you go.” He says finally pulling his pants down and tossing them off to the side. You can see his boner straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs, he’s absolutely massive. König can see your eyes widen as he pulls down his underwear. His heavy cock springing free.

“Wow…”

A cocky grin plays at König’s lips as he watches you. “Big, ja?” He chuckles as he positions himself between your thighs.

With his large hands, he grabs both on your legs and spreads them open. He slaps his cock on your wet pussy, letting out a sigh at the feeling of your wet warmth simply touching him. His eyes focus on yours as he lines himself up with your entrance, he wants to see the pleasure on your face once he slips in.

As he pushes his hips forward, he can feel your tight cunt squeeze around him, struggling to accept him. Your face scrunches with pleasure as König buries himself deep inside. Your hands reach out for the bedsheets, holding on tightly.

“Oh, fuck!” Your moan is almost a scream.

König’s eyes drop down to your pussy, watching the way your lips stretch to accommodate his size. “I bet your little ex would be devastated to see you’re celebrating the break up with your best friend's monster cock.” He teases as he pulls back, slamming himself inside of you again.

“He’d…cry.” You try to joke but the pleasure is simply too overwhelming. Pathetic mewls flee from you with every single thrust forward. His pace is slow but harsh.

“Maybe we should send him a little video and show him how to actually please a woman.”

You blush at his suggestion, but the thought of possibly hurting him felt too good. You know his cock is less than average and has a delicate ego. He was always insecure about your friendship with someone like König so, why not?

König grabs his cellphone after you give him the ‘ok’. He pulls open his camera app and holds it up. On the screen he focuses on your creamy cunt already beginning to gush around König. One finger taps the screen and records himself.

“Fucking perfect tight pussy. All mine.” His words almost come out in a growl as his pace quickens. He pulls back, slamming himself into you, causing you to let out the most desperate pleas to be fucked König has ever heard. “There you go, Liebling. Beg for me.”

He records the way your breasts sway in rhythm with his motion, your hands not knowing what to do as you cling on to him and the bed for support. Your velvety walls suck him in and squeeze him as his cock bullies its way in and out of you.

König pulls out quickly to prop the cell phone up on your night stand, making sure he can still see the two of you. He quickly climbs back on your bed, man handling you so effortlessly as he turns you over. Your ass props up in the air as your face rests on the soft bed underneath you.

He shoves himself back into you, hands gripping your ass tightly as he begins to buck forward into you. Instantly, you feel yourself flutter around him.Your head lifts up as you cry out in pleasure, one of his hands reaching around the front of your neck and pulling you back to him.

“König! Fuck!”

“Ja, scream my name, Liebling.” His voice is shaky as he tries to breathe. He focuses on ruining you for any other man. Especially so your ex can’t try to come back and take you from him.

“König!”

You moan out his name like a mantra. Your legs tremble, body becoming tense as a steady trickle drips from your body, wetting your bed. “Oh, my god!” Panting and eyes rolling back, König doesn’t let up for you to recover.

Your ex sits in his room, stood up by the woman he was cheating on you with, with tears burning his eyes. He can’t seem to look away as he watches your best friend, König, make your squirt multiple times. Seeing you move on so quickly hurts him, but what’s worse is knowing he can’t compare to König. The primal way you moan, eagerly suck König’s cock…he’s never seen you act that way before.

He quickly tries to call you once the video is over, pacing back and forth in his room with adrenalin flowing through his body. The line rings twice before he’s greeted with a thick Austrian accent on the other end.

“Hallo?” König’s voice sounds smug.

[hamsterclaw]

Your ex-boyfriend's new song reels you back in.

Pairing: Namjoon x f! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Idol! Namjoon, smut, angst

Warnings: Sex, swearing, toxic relationship

Word count: 2k

‘The fuck you say about me?’ you demand.

The tall, buzzed blond man looks up, insolent, arrogant, so fucking sexy it hurts you.

He tucks his tongue in his cheek, flicks his hooded eyes over your rigid body.

‘If the shoe fits,’ he drawls, that familiar low voice smooth as silk.

‘You’re an asshole,’ you hiss, angry tears standing in your eyes. You blink and they stream down over your cheeks.

Kim Namjoon, your ex boyfriend, tilts his head. His gaze hasn’t left yours.

‘I miss making you cry,’ he says. His words come out slow, deliberate, every word like a bullet hitting its mark.

His aim’s always been sharp.

‘You never will again,’ you spit out. 

You turn on your heel and yank open his studio door. 

His hand lands on the door above your head, closes it again, caging you between him and the door. All six feet of him, packed with the muscle he’s put on since he started working out again.

He leans down, you can feel his breath on the back of your neck as he whispers, ‘How does it feel to be the one caught off-guard?’

You try to turn around and face him but his large hand lands on your shoulder, pinning you into place.

He’s always been bigger, but he’s never used his strength against you before.

You’re shaking with a rage and hurt so deep you can’t verbalise. You sob, a gulp of air, and try to turn again.

He holds firm, and you can’t move.

‘Stop,’ you say, throwing an elbow back, struggling against his grasp.

Namjoon releases you just enough so you can turn to face him.

There’s a hardness to his expression that you haven’t seen before. 

‘Now you know how it feels,’ he says. 

‘Let me go,’ you scream, right up into his face, so loud your ears ring.

He barely blinks.

‘You come into my studio to start shit? What did you expect?’ he hisses.

‘You touch me, I’ll go to the press,’ you say, shoving at his chest.

Namjoon laughs, short. ‘And say what? No one knows we ever fucked.’

His words hang between you.

The tears are still falling, but your composure is returning.

‘I know,’ you say, voice thick. ‘And you know.’

Your words make some of his anger drain away. You can see him visibly easing out of the rigid posture he was in, leaning back so he’s not looming over you.

‘We know,’ he muses. 

‘And now anyone who listens to that track will know,’ you say, looking at him steadily.

He runs a hand through his buzzed hair.

‘They’ll know you fucked me over,’ he says. ‘They’ll know my side.’

He’s not wrong. There are two sides to your tumultuous relationship, and he’s told his side in the way he does best. 

It’s unfortunate for you that he has the platform to reach millions of people. 

You’re standing a foot apart now, bodies still turned to each other.

‘I fucked you over,’ you muse. ‘I fucked you over.’

He’s staring at your mouth and you know exactly what he’s thinking.

For all his emotional intelligence and his intellect, he’s always been a simple man.

‘Come down so I can reach,’ you say.

He leans down and your hand comes up to slap him. He catches your wrist mid-air, grip so strong it’s like steel, and lowers his mouth onto yours.

His kiss is hard, bruising, his tongue delving into your open mouth in a rhythm that makes you shiver.

He tugs you up on tiptoe, and you bring your hands up to keep space between you. He ignores the way you’re pushing at his chest, takes the way you’re kissing him as consent.

You give up.

You melt into his frame, close, arm curling around his neck to hold on as he presses his hot mouth to your neck. His tongue flicks over your skin, his lips form a seal and he sucks, a sensation that has warmth pooling at your core.

He groans, low, his hands already sliding up under your top, cupping your breasts over your bra.

Instead of unhooking, he hooks his finger under the band of your bra and tugs, up, lowering his head to suckle at the tip of your breast. His tongue swirls, and heat pulses between your legs.

‘Take it off,’ he says, eyes hooded, pupils blown. 

You tug your top off, then your bra. You’re not self-conscious about how you look in front of him.

Namjoon’s shown you a million times how much he loves your body.

Sure enough, he’s pushing you back onto the couch, mouth all over your tits, his big hands splayed around your waist, gripping you tight.

You try not to moan but you can’t stop yourself. He knows exactly how to pleasure you, it’s a learned skill from the hundreds of times you’ve fucked.

He laves his tongue over your nipple, and you’re already craving the thick length of his cock inside you.

He’s watching you as he kisses a path down the bare skin of your torso. He gets to the button of your jeans, undoes it deftly and you lift your hips so he can tug them off.

Underneath, your panties are sticking to you. He splays a hand over the curve of your hip, places his hand on you and you close your eyes as he rolls the pad of his thumb over your clit, slow, teasing.

You put a hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, and he tugs it away, rough.

He’s still fully dressed, the lights all blazing above you, and the juxtaposition of how he’s fully in control and how he’s taking you apart under him adds an unwanted intrusion to the haze of pleasure.

Shame.

It’s more about the way you’ve treated him than the way he’s got you spread and almost naked under him.

It’s more about the things you’ve said to this man who you’re supposed to love than the moans of wanton pleasure you’re expressing now.

He’s the one with a finger in your cunt but you think over the years you’ve fucked him just as much.

The tears come again, and Namjoon notices. He’s seen you cry so many times but there’s still a thin thread of decency that makes him lean down and kiss your forehead.

‘If I stop we’ll only feel worse,’ he murmurs, certainty in his tone borne of experience.

‘You know I love how you fuck me,’ you say, softly, speaking like it’s a secret between you and him.

There’s a flash of regret in his eyes but he doesn’t dwell on it. Fucking won’t close the chasm between you but it’ll sure as hell make you both forget for a while.

He gets up, unbuttons, lets his loose jeans slip down and then he’s in his chair, thighs spread, hard dick in his hand.

There’s a smear of pre-cum on his grey tee that’s probably worth more than your car but Namjoon’s never given a fuck about his clothes.

He watches, intent, as you slip your panties down, kick them away. 

He cups your bare bottom as you straddle him, lets your hand cover his around his cock.

You curl your fingers around him, and he huffs out a breath.

More pre-cum slips between your fingers as you position the head of him where you need him.

Namjoon’s dimple flashes, brief, as his lips curve.

‘Take it slow, baby, you know how sore you get.’

There’s a taunt in his low voice but the hands still supporting your ass are gentle.

You take the tip of him inside you, and he clenches his jaw.

His body, underneath you, is tense with holding himself back.

Namjoon can be gentle but he’s not a patient man.

You lower yourself, slow, thighs quivering with effort. 

The slide of his cock is so damn satisfying, every time. 

Namjoon lifts his hips, a push, two, then he’s in all the way.

You both groan.

You rest your forehead against his, fighting to regulate your breathing.

He’s struggling too, his heart thumping against his chest.

‘Fuck, fuck,’ he mutters. ‘Why’s it so good every time?’

He catches your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, squeezes your tear streaked face.

‘I want to make it work,’ he vows. ‘Why can’t we make it work?’

He’s squeezing so hard you’re worried he’ll leave fingermarks on your cheeks.

You could give a trite response, a dozen snappy comebacks are in your mouth ready to be said, but instead you close your eyes.

Take in the feel of him inside you, his body around yours. His scent on your skin.

Every time could be the last time.

Then again you’ve been saying that since you met him.

You curl your arms around his broad shoulders, move your hips, pull his head between your breasts.

He comes willingly.

You lift your hips, up so he’s just barely inside, then drop them. The sounds of your joined bodies in the otherwise silent soundproofed studio are obscene and beautiful.

You keep up the rhythm, slowing when you’re close, when your peak’s within reach. 

Namjoon’s looking up at you. 

His dimples flash. 

‘Always did need me to finish you,’ he says. If there’s arrogance in his tone it’s been earned over all the times you’ve fucked.

You press your thumb into his cheek.

‘So do it.’

Namjoon grasps your hips, grinding you onto his pelvis. He fucks up into you, grunting with the effort. His skin gleams with the sweat he’s worked up.

‘Fuck,’ you gasp. 

Namjoon swears. 

‘Gripping me so tight, fuck!’

Namjoon pulls you down, plunges his tongue into your mouth as he fucks you.

You cry his name as you come, words passing from your mouth to his, and he closes his eyes.

His thrusts slow, erratic, as he pumps his release into you. 

You get up, legs wobbly from being fucked so hard and well, totter to the couch and press your face between the joins. You can’t look at him or you’ll cry again and you both hate that.

A moment later you feel the weight of him next to you.

His big palm lands on your ass along with the whole weight of his arm. 

He buries his face in your hair.

You don’t think there’s anything left to say.

***

You’re curled up in Namjoon’s pre-cum stained shirt, knees up and together on his cum-stained couch, watching him flick a lighter on and off.

Without turning he says, ‘Don’t give me that fucking screw face when you’ve got my t-shirt on and my come running down your leg.’

You try to readjust your resting screw face but he turns and catches you.

You have to laugh at how well he knows you.

He’s picked up your panties, twirling them around his finger.

‘You gonna go?’ he asks. He’s looking at you, so you do him the courtesy of meeting his gaze.

‘Yeah.’

He nods. ‘I had the codes changed on all the doors. Your fingerprint won’t work anymore.’

It’s your turn to nod. 

‘I moved,’ you feel the need to tell him.

‘I know,’ he says.

You’re not surprised to hear he looked for you.

It’s the hallmark of the many years of toxic codependency you shared. 

Your friends got married and had babies.

You and Namjoon went up in flames and rose from the ashes. The cycle went on. 

Fuck, cry, repeat.

You get up, start getting dressed.

You’ve got your hand on the door when you turn back to look at him a last time.

He’s already looking at you. 

‘You hungry?’ you ask.

It takes him less than a second to decide.

[rafesfavgirl]

do you enjoy being hurt? — r. cameron

a little self-indulgent bc why do the people in my life always act up when i'm already stressed over finals 🙃

❝ baby, i just don't get it do you enjoy being hurt? ❞

pairing: bsf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after another break up with your boyfriend, rafe finds you.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: reader's in a toxic relationship, overprotective!rafe, insecure!reader, a little fluff, angst

"y/n, what the hell?" rafe comes bursting through your bedroom door without warning, and you quickly wipe away the tears that have been caused by your boyfriend—or ex-boyfriend—who had just broken up with you. again. "i've been-"

the look of frustration on his face switches to one of concern in a single second, rushing to crouch down beside you sitting down on the floor, leaning back against your bed. "woah, woah, woah," he says, picking your face up in his hands and making you look at him. "why you crying?"

"it's nothing, rafe," you push his hands off your face and stand up to look at yourself in your vanity mirror. pieces of your hair were sticking to your cheek from dried up tears, and your eyes were bloodshot red and puffy.

"it's not nothing," he argues, looking at you through the mirror. "you're fucking crying, y/n! what happened?" his concern slowly morphs into anger, frustrated at the fact that you wouldn't tell him anything. "it was evan, wasn't it?" he spat, beginning to pace around your room in an attempt to calm himself down. 

"that fucking motherfucker," he muttered, not being able to stop the words that fall out of his mouth. "what'd he say or do now? fuck another bitch? tell you you're not hot enough for him? accuse you of cheating? i swear to god y/n, if-"

when he realizes that you've broken down again, tears flowing out of your eyes as you leaned your hands on the vanity and stared down at it, he stops and rushes to your side.

"i'm sorry," his voice is soft now, a hand gently coming across the small of your back as a sob fell from your mouth and tears continued to trail down your cheeks. "i didn't mean to— hey. hey," he turns you around, his big arms wrapping around you in a comforting hug.

your sobs and sniffles only double in amount, as you melt into him and cry against his chest. "why am i like this, rafe?"

"shhh, shhh," he caresses your hair with his hand and rests his chin on top of your head. "it's okay."

"no, it's not okay," you reply, wiping at your tears. "i know that, i just don't-"

"hey, hey, hey," rafe separates himself form you, just enough to cup your cheeks in his hands, thumbs wiping at your tears. "just tell me what happened, a'ight? can you do that?"

sniffling and wiping at your nose, you nod at him, and he pulls away so you can both move to sit on the bed.

you pull your knees close to you chest, while rafe waits for you to speak. "he broke up with me… again," you say. "told me i wasn't doing enough, that i didn't benefit him in anyway. that there were other girls who did more for him, who were better." you just stare at the ground, refusing to look at him, knowing that the second you did, you'd break again.

rafe brings a hand up to rub his chin, heat rising in chest as a scoff left his mouth. that motherfucker.

"do you think he's right?" when you finally let your watery eyes meet his, the band that kept him in control snapped.

"oh fuck no," he immediately stands from the bed and charges towards the door. "i'm gonna give that son of a bitch-"

you scramble to your feet and follow him, stopping right in front of him to keep him from going any further. "rafe, no," you say, placing a hand on his heaving chest. "you can't."

"fuck you mean, i can't?" he asks, fuming. "that idiot made you cry. and not only that, but he made you feel as if you weren't good enough for him. you can't just tell me something like that and expect me to-"

"please," you plead, eyes only on his. "if you say something to him, it's only gonna make it worse. i don't want him to-"

"to what?" rafe cuts you off, his muscles tensing. "has he laid a hand on you?"

"not on purpose," you mumbled.

"what?" rafe asks through gritted teeth.

"we were both really mad," you shrug, no longer meeting his eyes. "i got pissed that he just started saying all that shit to me so i told him to calm the fuck down and got in his way so…"

"so… what?" you could tell by the sound of his voice that the next words you spoke could either have him snap or keep it together.

"look, it doesn't even matter, alright?" you push past him and head back into your room.

"the fuck you mean it doesn't matter?" he immediately follows after you, gently grabbing your wrist to make you look at him. "hey, look at me. did he touch you?"

cowering under his strong gaze, you mumble quietly. "it was an accident."

seething, his posture straightens and his hand drops from your wrist. "i'll see you later."

he turns on his heel without letting you get another word in and walks out of your room.

against your better judgment, and afraid of what he might do, you follow him down the hall and down the stairs.

"rafe," you call after him, but he ignores you and proceeds towards the foyer. "rafe, wait."

you jog to catch up and walk ahead of him, stopping him in his tracks by placing a hand against his hard, heaving chest. "where are you going?"

"get out of my way, y/n," he tells you, refusing to have his angry eyes meet yours.

if you thought he would just stand by while you told him your boyfriend "accidentally" laid a hand on you, you obviously didn't know him at all.

"where are you going?" you repeat yourself, and he finally looks at you.

"where do you think i'm going?"

you shake your head at him, your shoulders going limp. "please don't."

"for fuck's sake," he mutters under his breath and turns away from you to run a frustrated hand across his buzzed head. "why are you defending him?"

you wince at the tone of his voice, and shrug. "i'm not. it’s just-“

“just what?” he stops pacing and closes the distance between the two of you, taking both your hands in his. “i mean seriously, y/n. why do you stay with him? help me understand.”

looking into his pleading eyes, you couldn’t do much more than shrug. “i don’t know.”

and it was true. maybe you’d gotten so used to the toxicity that it was normal to you now. how fucked up is that?

a scoff leaves his mouth as he glances down and fiddles with your fingers, but it wasn’t bitter or disappointed. you really couldn’t quite place it.

“i just… i’ve gotten so used to it,” you admit. “i don’t know anything else.”

“don’t you know you deserve better?” his eyes meet yours again, but they’re no longer angry or searching for answers. they’re just sad.

you’d be lying if you said it didn’t cross your mind. every time your “boyfriend” had broken up with you, you swore to yourself it was the last time. that you couldn’t let him keep treating you the way he did, because he’d only take advantage. but that was much easier said than done.

“i’m not perfect, rafe,” you shrug, tears threatening to line up against your bottom waterline. “and love isn’t either.”

“but it shouldn’t hurt,” he tells you. “i mean, is this what you really want for yourself? some guy who constantly belittles you and makes you feel as if you’re not enough for him?”

“but what if he’s right?” you ask, causing rafe’s heart to shatter a little. he couldn’t believe that you, of all people, could really buy into that shit. you’d always been so perfect in his eyes. “what if-“

“oh, doll,” he drops one of your hands to caress your cheek. “there are so many guys out there who’d kill to just get an hour of your time.”

you lean into his touch without even thinking about it. “you think so?”

“i know so,” he nods, thumb swiping under your eye to wipe a new tear away. “let him go.”

this isn't even the draft i was suppose to finish but fuck it, we ball. this was the one that my creative juices wanted to write. look out for that ex-bf!rafe smut soon tho 🌝

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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[dollfaceksj]

reminder | jjk (m)

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: Whenever he flies back into town, your doorbell is the first he rings. When he has to fly out again, your bed is the last he lies in. However, you’re not stupid. You know your ex-boyfriend, that also happens to be an up-and-coming professional boxer, Jeon Jungkook, doesn’t come to you only. Unfortunately, you have no right to be jealous, not when you’re the one that ended the relationship.

➥ GENRE: angst ⋆ smut ⋆ bit of fluff ⋆ exes with benefits

➥ CATEGORY: three-shot

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, exes, second chance, angst, fuckboy!jk, possessiveness, jealousy, exes with benefits, boxer!jk, unprotected sex(STAY SAFE), creampie, fingering, squirting, pussy slapping, oral sex (f. rec), handjob, spanking, toxicity (a lot if it), shower sex, heterosexuals (sorry), fluff if u squint, mutual pining, sooooo much pining, minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 8.7k

a/n: ck jungkook has given me brain rot and i just had to write something about it. sorry in advance.

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Change is inevitable. Everything changes. Everyone changes. You love change, though. You don’t like clinging to things and you’re always up to try out new things. You’re the one in your friend group that’s always trying new items on a menu, always checking out random music, trying different things with your hair.

Maybe it’s because of the way you’ve grown up, always taught to move on and enjoy new things because life is short. No dwelling on the past, no asking yourself ‘why me?’, no fear of change in your life. That’s exactly how you’ve always been.

So, what you have trouble understanding is how you allow yourself to be in this situation right now, a book you should’ve closed a long time ago.

With your face pressed into your wet sheets, back arched, bare ass in the air and lewd moans spilling from your lips as you get fucked into your mattress by the man you broke up with 2 years ago.

“Jungkook! Slow down, I’m gonna–”

You’re cut off by a harsh slap to your left asscheek, your teeth sinking into the bunched up sheets in front of your face as the stinging and warmth from the spank spreads through your skin. You yelp in pain yet pleasure, your fingers gripping the sheets even tighter. You usually don’t orgasm from solely penetration but the overstimulation is causing you to physically feel every single one of your nerves electrifying in your nether regions.

“Cum, then. I’ll fuck you through as many orgasms as you want.” The pace of his merciless pounding never falters and it has you seeing every celestial body in the universe every time you blink. He grunts loudly as you start clenching around him, his hand reaching for your forearm and pulling it back to press it into your back as he continues to fuck you.

Your other hand reaches behind you, pressing flat into his lower abdomen to get him to slow down but he just swats your hand away. You attempt it for a second time and this time he grabs your wrist, bringing it next to your other arm that he’s already pressing into your back, now caging both of your arms in his grasp against your back as his hips slam into your ass.

A cry rips through your throat, eyes tightly squeezing shut as you drool into the covers. Your orgasm hits you like a fucking train, the knot in your stomach snapping and your entire body heats up as if you’ve been set on fire. Your slick walls constantly clench around Jungkook’s dick, making him grunt your name alongside a few swear words. His hips stutter in their movement, speed faltering as you continue to cry out in pleasure under him.

He curses under his breath, letting go of your arms. He presses his hands down on your ass until you’re fully lying on your stomach, face still pressed into the sheets. He never pulls out, on the contrary, he continues to fuck into you as you sob under him, the overstimulation has you squirming like a fish out of water.

There’s a pressure against your upper back, one that you quickly realize is his bare chest as he leans into your ear. “I’ve missed you so much,” he breathlessly says into your ear, a soft moan following his words and you feel his dick twitch inside of you. He’s close.

“Fuck,” he grunts, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. His thrusts start getting inconsistent and sloppy.

“Jungkook,” you sob, a sniff following your cry and it’s the final thing you know he needs to get that knot in his stomach to snap. It doesn’t take long after for him to shoot his load into you, coating your walls with his cum.

He moans in your ear softly, something you swear is the single best sound on Earth. Paired with the best feeling on Earth, having Jungkook fuck the shit out of you.

After a few more lazy thrusts, continuously fucking his load into you, he comes to a full stop. His hips are still pressed into your ass and his forehead is pressed against your shoulder.

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2 hours ago

You’re scrubbing the last of your dirty cutlery with your soapy sponge when you hear 3 soft knocks on your front door.

It’s him.

You glance at the clock that’s hung up on the wall in your kitchen, your hands automatically reaching for the kitchen towel that you slung over your shoulder when you started washing your dishes. 10:45PM. You dry your hands and neatly drape the damp kitchen towel back over the cupboard’s handle before heading into the hallway.

You peek through the peephole but it’s blackened out, already knowing who it is with the way he always presses his thumb into your peephole to keep you from seeing him. You fight the smile that’s trying to force its way onto your lips as you reach for your keys.

With a sigh, you slowly unlock your front door. Your hand pulls on the door handle, creating a bigger gap and allowing yourself to be seen as your eyes make contact with his big brown ones and his sheepish smile.

There’s a cut on his cheekbone, bags under his eyes, his long black locks pulled back into a small bun. The layers that are too short to fit into the bun frame his face so perfectly, kissing the top of his brows and tickling his temples.

Still as gorgeous as ever.

He’s wearing a black shirt and grey sweats and he’s got luggage with him, allowing you to assume he probably came here straight from the airport. He must be absolutely exhausted. Or at least jetlagged.

You cross your arms, closing your cardigan around your torso in the process. “You’re back.” It’s all you can say, really. It’s all you ever say when he’s suddenly in front of your front door every few days or weeks.

Like it’s become some kind of inside joke, an inside joke just for the two of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he says without any hesitation right after the words leave your mouth. He always replies with these exact words but it catches you off guard every single time.

He doesn’t wait for you to invite him in, he knows you’ll let him. Like you always have, like you always do, like you always will.

He struts in, kicking his shoes off his feet but neatly placing them by the door next to his luggage before returning his attention to you, his big hands finding their way to your waist as he pulls you closer. You lean back a bit to glance up at him, your thumb gently grazing the cut on his cheekbone.

He doesn’t react, just stares at you as he lets you do whatever you want. He’ll always let you do whatever you want.

Because it’s no secret that Jungkook is still in love with you.

“Does it hurt?” you ask softly, bringing the same thumb down to rub his bottom lip, peeking at him through your pretty lashes.

He shakes his head, parting his lips as he takes your thumb into his mouth and slowly circles the tip of your thumb with his warm tongue.

“You must be hungry if you came here straight from the airport. I just made some pasta, you want some?” You move your other hand up to brush some of his hair out of his face.

“Hm, I can have you for dinner as well.”

You roll your eyes and take the opportunity to take your thumb out of his mouth and pry his hands off your waist to head into the kitchen. He huffs but quickly follows you, trailing behind you like a stray kitten.

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With your empty dinner plates in front of you, your conversation goes on. He’s just staring at you, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. It makes him look like a bunny.

“How long are you staying in town this time?” you question, already assuming since he usually stays a week or 2 before he flies out again.

“5 days.” His answer is almost immediate, like he knew you were going to ask that question. It’s only natural, though, you usually ask him that.

“How was Paris?” you ask as you reach for your glass of water and bring it to your lips, keeping eye contact with him over the rim of your glass.

“It was good.” He leans back into his chair, rubbing his stomach which he always does after dinner. “Cold, though.”

“Yeah? I bet some lucky ladies kept you warm, no?” you tease, knowing he hates talking about that with you. You watch as he cringes, adjusting in his seat as he sits straight up.

He glances at you for a moment with a slight frown on his face and then rises to his feet, gathering the dirty plates and utensils before heading into the kitchen. You’re used to him completely ignoring questions like that.

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you momentarily look out the window. You’ve always pushed him to try new things like you do, that includes moving on from you.

He simply refuses.

You need him to move on from you so you can move on from him. It’s that simple. But every single time he stands before you, it’s like he sucks all the strength to turn him down out of your body.

The water runs and you hear the clatter of dishes, assuming he’s washing them. You get up and clean the table before walking up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his back.

He dries his hands with your kitchen towel and turns around in your arms, cupping your face delicately, his pretty brown eyes scanning your features.

“Will you let me kiss you?” he quietly asks, thumb rubbing back and forth on your cheek.

He always asks this when you see him again. You always agree.

Your eyes shift from his left eye to his right repeatedly, a look of contemplation on your face. You both know that you really, really want him to, though.

Does he kiss the other people too? Does he caress their faces like he does you? Hold them so gently?

With a curt nod of your head, he finally leans down and presses his lips to yours. With your chin tilted up to meet his lips, your eyelids flutter close instantly, your heart rate picking up whilst a bubbling heat spreads through your body, starting in your stomach and growing all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

His lips were made to be on top of yours.

His kiss gets a bit needier, his hands holding your face so gently yet so firm, as if he’s scared to let you go. He tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss, a soft muffled sound resounding in your throat.

The wet muscle you feel poking your lip doesn’t go unnoticed by you and you happily welcome his tongue, letting him lick into your mouth. By now his kiss has gotten heavy, tongue ready to devour you and swallow you whole.

With your hands still on his waist, you squeeze him gently, wanting to feel more of him. Needing to feel more of him.

After a few more minutes of passionate making out, he pulls back and deeply inhales. He’s still holding your face, tilting it even more to make you look up at him. “Will you let me fuck you?”

He always asks this when you see him again. You always agree.

Your heart jolts in your chest at the unexpectedly expected words. If the making out didn’t already leave you soaking, those words surely did.

You quickly nod to his question. As if you’d ever decline. He drops his hands, moving one to wrap around your wrist as he starts leading you toward your bedroom.

He sneaks his arm around your waist and pushes you toward your bed again, slowly letting you down onto your mattress. You reach for your pyjama shorts and yank them down, leaving you in your tank top and panties.

He drops down onto his knees in front of the bed, dragging you to the edge of your mattress by your thighs. You softly gasp at the sudden force pulling you, propping yourself up on your elbows as you set your gaze on him between your thighs, intently.

He takes his time, bringing his index finger to your clothed sex to gently rub all over your slit. Your hips jolt up like they’ve got a mind of their own but Jungkook presses you down by your lower stomach with one hand, shaking his head.

“Let me take my time, baby. You know I’ve missed this pussy.”

The moment those words leave his mouth, you let yourself fall back on your mattress. You’re sprawled on your bed with your ex-boyfriend in between your thighs and if you told yourself at 16 that this is who you were going to be when you grow up, that girl would’ve laughed at you.

Because you don’t dwell. You don’t go back. You don’t cling to the past.

But all those thoughts instantly disappear like fog in your head the moment Jungkook presses a kiss to your clit through your panties. A soft gasp leaves your lips, your fingers tucking under the hem of your panties as you try to yank them off.

He simply chuckles as he allows you to take them off, his eyes glued to your glistening sex. He wastes no time latching his tongue onto your wetness, licking a thick stripe up your slit before wrapping his lips around your pulsating clit. He hums in delight at the taste of you.

A cry falls from your lips, your fingers making their way to the top of his skull. You tug on the loose strands that frame his perfect face so well as you grind into his mouth.

“Hm, missed me?” he purrs, pressing you back down by pushing on your pelvic bone. He slides his hands up the back of your thighs from your ass to the back of your knees, pushing them back as he continues to devour you.

Soft moans spill from your lips as you arch your back off the bed, toes curling at the sensation of your clit being sucked on with so much fervor. “Jungkook!” you cry, pressing your palms into your eyes to try and keep yourself from bursting into tears at the pleasure.

He simply hums against your sex, dark eyes peeking up at you. His tongue slides down your slit, teasing your hole before licking back up to your clit. “There’s nothing better than the taste of this pussy,” he mumbles before wrapping his lips around your clit again, gently sucking on it.

A soft moan bubbles up the back of your throat, leaving your lips which makes him smirk against your skin. “Hm, even better than your little girlfriends?” you tease. You always use the words ‘little girlfriends’ to refer to all the girls in the city he fucks besides you, all the girls he fucks overseas, all the girls he fucks that aren’t you.

He peeks up at you again, this time a frown on his brows. You steal a glance at him when you sense him looking at you, a sheepish smile on your face. He pulls back and wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand as he lets go of your legs and rises to his feet.

You eternally groan at the fact that made him stop fucking you with his mouth but the show he’s giving you as he removes his shirt almost makes you thankful that he did.

“Yeah. And I fucked a bunch of ‘em in Paris,” he replies as he tugs his sweatpants down his legs, kicking them somewhere across the floor.

The slight raise in your eyebrows shows that you’re surprised. Jungkook never comments on your attempts at provoking him and mentions of other women.

You just shot yourself in the foot because you really, really don’t want to imagine him fucking someone else. You usually bring it up to provoke him and he usually dismisses it but this time, he puts a vivid image in your head and you don’t like it.

You huff as you sit up on your bed, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His response is immediate, his hand reaching for the hem of your tank top. You let him pull it off your body and allow him to ogle at your breasts.

He tosses your tank top at the growing pile of clothes on your floor before licking his thumb and bringing it to one of your nipples, rubbing circles around it with his wet thumb.

You sigh at the stimulation. “Were they good?” You can’t help but ask him this question, your voice coming out a bit choked but he doesn’t comment on it.

“They were fucking great.”

You almost bite a piece off your tongue, the entity that’s called Jealousy menacingly looming over your body and ready to devour you whole. You know you always provoke him but you only do it because he never responds.

You don’t comment further, you just reach for the hem of his boxers but he stops you. He swats your hands away and pushes you further back onto your mattress, so you scoot back whilst still sitting up right. He climbs into your bed next to you, sitting down on his ankles as he leans over you.

You place your hands behind you, leaning back on them as you glance up at him. He’s staring down at you, hand sliding up and down your thigh. With a little pressure, he spreads your thighs further apart and his fingers find their way back to your sex.

You grunt once his fingers make contact with your clit again, a tiny shiver running down your legs. You bend your legs at the knees, placing your feet on the edge of your bed and spreading your thighs further, still looking up at Jungkook who is staring you down like he wants to absolutely ruin you.

The tips of his middle and ring finger start rubbing consistent circles onto your pussy and you scrunch your eyebrows together, mouth falling open.

“Whose pussy is this?” he murmurs, fingers sliding down your slit and rubbing in between your folds. You moan softly at the sensation, thighs jerking in the process.

You quip, “Mine.” You know that’s not the answer he’s looking for, especially with the way his eyes narrow at you.

“Mad because I finally answered your stupid questions for once?” he scoffs, fingers sliding straight into you which earns a surprised gasp from you.

Your eyebrows scrunch together even more, your mouth still agape and your big eyes pleading for more. It’s the face you know Jungkook can’t resist, he usually kisses you right away.

But this time, he doesn’t. He doesn’t kiss you. He just stares you down as his hand starts slamming into your sex, fingers rubbing against your slick walls with each movement.

The lewd sound of your wetness almost embarrasses you but your mind is too clouded, his lustful eyes never leaving yours.

Before you can fathom what just happened, you yelp out in painful pleasure. Jungkook has retreated his fingers and brought his palm down with a slap to your wet pussy, making your legs jerk and your hands reach up to grab at his biceps.

“Ah!” you cry out at the sudden impact, your nose warming up and you know you’re about to start tearing up.

“I asked you a question.” His voice resounds inside your head, it almost makes the return of his fingers inside of you go unnoticed by you.

He fucks his fingers into you, palm slamming down on your clit whilst his fingers thrust in and out of you.

Moans spill from your throat as you hold onto his neck now, eyes squeezing shut at the delicious torture on your sex.

“Answer me, Y/N.”

You cry out when he slaps your pussy once again, your hips jolting under him but he pushes you down by your lower abdomen. He enters his fingers again, palm still continuously slamming down on your clit.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you manage to say without sobbing, the pleasure he’s giving you is making you dizzy.

“Bullshit,” he grunts, picking up the pace of his hand.

You want to pull his face closer by tugging on his neck but he doesn’t budge, his hand adamant on making you cum and it’s succeeding.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, clenching around his fingers with your eyes shut tightly. You wince when he pulls his fingers out but you have no time to react when he suddenly rubs all 4 fingers in a waving motion against your clit at an incomprehensible speed.

You cry out again, squirming under him when a different kind of knot in your stomach snaps. You open your eyes just in time to watch yourself squirt all over his hand, all over your sheets, all over your floor.

All the strength in your body dissolves and you fall back against your mattress, the sensation of squirting all over your mattress still going as you writhe under him.

His torture never stops, the demonic speed in which he assaults your clit is enough to have tears bursting out of your eyesockets and the longer he keeps going, the more you keep squirting. “You gonna answer or want me to keep going?

His name falls out of your mouth in a series of sobs. “Fuck–! Yeah, I’m mad!” you admit, pushing against his arm to try and get him to finally stop.

And he does, he pulls his hand away. He takes a while to just stare you down and if you weren’t already, you’d describe the feeling as feeling naked under him.

“So then, why do you keep asking me if you know you’ll get mad?” he asks as he starts tugging his boxers down, allowing his erection to spring free. He kicks his underwear off the bed as he uses his wet hand to pump himself, essentially lubing himself up with your slick.

Not that you’d need any type of lube now, you are completely and disgustingly soaked.

You’re still on your back, trying to catch your breath when his hand slips under the back of your knee. He spreads you for him again and circles his tip all around your sensitive sex.

“Jungkook,” you warn, the effects of overstimulation making anything you say sound like a pathetic cry.

“Shhh, I know.” He pushes into you and usually circles your clit with his thumb but he doesn’t this time, for obvious reasons. You’re grateful, though. Jungkook can get pretty rough with his so-called punishments – that are absolutely sublime – but you don’t think you could take any more clit stimulation now.

He places his hands on either side of your head and leans forward, his silver chain dangling in your face. He presses a soft kiss to your lips before he pulls away to watch your face as his hips start slamming into you.

You sob his name, legs falling limb after an attempt at wrapping them around his waist. He leans down and presses his lips to your cheeks, softly kissing your tears away.

You sniffle, enjoying his proximity as he continues to fuck into you. Soft moans escape his throat too and it’s your favorite sound in the whole world. He sounds angelic. His lips retreat from your face in the meantime as he watches your face, a look of admiration on his.

“Do you kiss them as well?” you quietly whimper, sincerity in your eyes instead of the usual teaseful look.

He observes you for a moment longer, gaze dropping to your lips quickly before returning to your eyes.

You’d tease Jungkook about being with other women, something he hated and he never took the bait, and in the two years after your break up of the two of you casually having sex whenever he’s back in town, you’d never crossed the emotional territory. Because you had always taught yourself to move on, to not dwell, to not beat yourself up.

But with Jungkook, it’s just inexplicable. You want him, you need him, you breathe him.

You didn’t expect this time to be so emotional. So raw. So unchanged.

“Would kissing be worse than fucking?” he asks, dragging you out of your thoughts. You try to fight the quiver in your bottom lip but you can’t help it, your hands wrapping around each of his wrists that are caging your head in between them.

You turn your head to look away from his overwhelming gaze, pressing your lips to the side of his arm.

Out of the blue, he picks up the pace and starts fucking into you again. Several moans and cries fall from your lips, muffled by the skin of his arm. You sense his eyes on you from your peripherals but you don’t return the eye contact, you can’t. You might burst into tears. And this time it won’t be from pleasure.

He takes the opportunity to press his lips to your neck, kissing the skin under your earlobe and making his way down.

The words ‘I love you’ are stuck in your throat, threatening to blurt out. With all the strength you can gather, you swallow them down, squeezing your eyes shut tightly.

“No one will ever compare to you.” His voice is muffled from kissing your skin but you can hear him loud and clear, aside from the skin slapping and the wet sounds from your pussy being pummeled by his hips.

You shake your head in response to him, not wanting to hear that at this moment. You’ll just fall in love with him all over again and you’d rather die, you’d much rather die.

“Shut up,” you mumble after another sniffle, turning your head to face him again. He takes his lips off your throat, letting his gaze drape all over you again and it makes you feel so small.

His thrusts come to an abrupt halt, making you wince. In one swift motion, he pulls out of you with a grunt. He sits back on his ankles and gently – yet with a firm grip – turns you around onto your stomach. His hands return to your body with a tight grip around your hips, yanking your ass up into the air.

“You want to know how I fuck them? I’ll show you,” he says breathlessly as he shoves himself right back into your wetness, fingers sinking into your skin as he pounds his hips into your ass and the back of your thighs.

This is how he fucked you when you’d have an argument back when you were together, when he was mad at you, when you were acting up. He would say he didn’t want those eyes of yours looking up at him if he was fucking you with no emotion, with no warmth, with no love.

This is his way of answering your annoying questions, you suppose.

You mewl under him, your hands gripping the soaking sheets tightly to support yourself from the momentum of his thrusts. A low grunt rumbles in his chest when you clench your walls around him. His speed is almost demonic at this point, your body being sent into overdrive as your stomach tightens again.

“Jungkook! Slow down, I’m gonna–”

You’re cut off by a harsh slap to your left asscheek, your teeth sinking into the bunched up sheets in front of your face as the stinging and warmth from the spank spreads through your skin. You yelp in pain yet pleasure, your fingers gripping the sheets even tighter. You usually don’t orgasm from solely penetration but the overstimulation is causing you to physically feel every single one of your nerves electrifying in your nether regions.

“Cum, then. I’ll fuck you through as many orgasms as you want.” The pace of his merciless pounding never falters and it has you seeing every celestial body in the universe every time you blink. He grunts loudly as you start clenching around him, his hand reaching for your forearm and pulling it back to press it into your back as he continues to fuck you.

Your other hand reaches behind you, pressing flat into his lower abdomen to get him to slow down but he just swats your hand away. You attempt it for a second time and this time he grabs your wrist, bringing it next to your other arm that he’s already pressing into your back, now caging both of your arms in his grasp against your back as his hips slam into your ass.

A cry rips through your throat, eyes tightly squeezing shut as you drool into the covers. Your orgasm hits you like a fucking train, the knot in your stomach snapping and your entire body heats up as if you’ve been set on fire. Your slick walls constantly clench around Jungkook’s dick, making him grunt your name alongside a few swear words. His hips stutter in their movement, speed faltering as you continue to cry out in pleasure under him.

He curses under his breath, letting go of your arms. He presses his hands down on your ass until you’re fully lying on your stomach, face still pressed into the sheets. He never pulls out, on the contrary, he continues to fuck into you as you sob under him, the overstimulation has you squirming like a fish out of water.

There’s a pressure against your upper back, one that you quickly realize is his bare chest as he leans into your ear. “I’ve missed you so much,” he breathlessly says into your ear, a soft moan following his words and you feel his dick twitch inside of you. He’s close.

“Fuck,” he grunts, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. His thrusts start getting inconsistent and sloppy.

“Jungkook,” you sob, a sniff following your cry and it’s the final thing you know he needs to get that knot in his stomach to snap. It doesn’t take long after for him to shoot his load into you, coating your walls with his seed.

He moans in your ear softly, something you swear is the single best sound on Earth. Paired with the best feeling on Earth, having Jungkook fuck the shit out of you.

After a few more lazy thrusts, continuously fucking his load into you, he comes to a full stop. His hips are still pressed into your ass and his forehead is pressed against your shoulder.

He pulls out and collapses onto your mattress, right next to your body. You crack one of your eyes open to peek at him. He’s on his back, the back of his hand pressed into his forehead with his eyes shut tight as he’s focused on steadying his breath.

You stare at him for a moment, captivated by his utter beauty. Your eyes trail the bridge of his nose, his pretty black lashes, his red cheeks and swollen lips. The thin layer of sweat makes him look like he’s covered in glitter, his cheeks glistening like a glazed donut, the pretty moles on his face making his soft skin look like a starry night sky.

The small cut on his cheekbone doesn’t go unnoticed by you, of course. The wound has seemingly healed but the skin around it is still purple and has some traces of yellow too. He’s way too beautiful to be fighting for a living.

You quickly avert your eyes when he opens his eyes again, staring straight at you as if he sensed you staring at him. You clear your throat awkwardly as you slowly turn onto your other side, giving him your cold back.

A finger starts drawing patterns on the bare skin of your back and you’re incapable of stopping the goosebumps from popping out of your skin. The mattress dips, telling you he’s scooting closer until he’s completely pressed up into your back.

He places his lips on your shoulder blade, not moving them, not kissing your shoulder. Just keeping them there, like they belong there, like they’re magnetized.

Neither of you say anything.

Nothing has to be said. You just enjoy the moment.

Because you know once he walks out your front door, you won’t see him until the day he has to catch another flight.

You know where he goes, you know what he does, you know how he spends the nights when he’s not with you.

He just showed you.

And you have no right to feel any way about it. You broke his heart.

Shattered his heart into so many pieces that you’re still the first one he sees when he’s back in town, you’re still the only one he actually lies with.

You’re the only one.

But you’re also not the only one.

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You stir, eyes fluttering open in the darkness of your room. It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts and recognize your surroundings. It’s then when you notice Jungkook’s tattooed arm lazily slung around your waist. Soft puffs leave his mouth, his breathing slow and very quiet snores fill up the room.

You silently reach for your phone, turning the screen to you and almost being blinded by the light of your phone. You squint as you try to figure out what time it is. 6:01AM.

You’re startled by the sudden jerk of his arm and you realize he’s waking up. With a turn of your head, you glance at him. He peeks at you through one eye, a sheepish smile on his lips.

“Sorry,” you start, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He shakes his head, his lips puckered as he leans into your face. He places his lips on your jaw, softly kissing down your neck which awakens the goosebumps on the upper layer of your skin.

You squirm once his breath hits your neck. “That tickles,” you giggle as you scoot away from him but he doesn’t let you get too far, quickly climbing on top of you.

You turn onto your back, tired eyes staring up at him, his beautiful hair falling forward which frames his face beautifully. It’s now that you’re reminded you’re both still naked and it makes your cheeks instantly heat up. Not because you’re embarrassed but because Jungkook’s body is temptation itself.

His muscles are soft and squishy now that they’re not flexed but you know how tight and hard his body really is. Your eyes trail the contours of his pecs and biceps, at least what you can make out in the dark.

His black locks must’ve escaped the elastic that kept his hair together in a bun whilst he was sleeping. Your hands automatically reach up, running your fingers through his beautiful hair to push it out of his face. “It’s getting quite long, hm?” you muse, ruffling through it in the meantime.

He lets you, of course, a soft chuckle leaving his throat as you play with his hair.

“You don’t like it?” he quips, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. You can hear the attempt at making it sound like a joke but you know him well enough to know he values your opinion about him.

Your tongue slides over your teeth from left to right, fighting your smirk. “Are you crazy? I love it.” You tug the hair on the back of his head, smirking when he hisses at the grip you have on him.

He pokes your rib which makes you release his hair, a quiet yelp leaving your lips at the feeling. “What time is it?” he mumbles as he buries his face in the crook over your neck, leaving wet pecks all over your skin.

“6 in the fucking morning,” you groan as you squeeze his waist, nails grazing his skin gently, rubbing patterns on his exposed skin.

He grunts as he pulls away from your neck, rolling off of you in the meantime. Your eyes are greeted with his bare back as he sits up in your bed, your hand automatically tracing the back muscles he’s putting on display for you. “I should leave, Yoongi-hyung needs me to go take new photos for my passport,” he mumbles as he lazily rubs his face.

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of Jungkook’s coach-slash-manager, Min Yoongi. You haven’t seen him since the breakup. “Already?” you ask as you crawl toward him. “Can’t you stay a little while longer?” You press your bare chest into his back and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing soft kisses to his earlobe.

His hands automatically move up to yours on his chest, bringing one of your hands up to his lips to press a kiss to it. “I was supposed to do it yesterday because I ran into some trouble at the airport. I have to fly to Australia in a couple of days.” He peels your hands off his body and gets up, pulling you up with him.

“Let’s go take a shower, we passed out in all that shit,” he laughs as he nods towards the big wet patch, right where you squirted. You’re instantly reminded of the fact you both passed out right after that intense fuck session, you didn’t even clean up after yourself. Gross.

You wince in disgust and scrunch your nose up as you nod quickly, swinging your legs off the bed and placing your feet on the floor. You stand up and let him lead you to your bathroom, he could do it blindfolded – obviously, he used to live here.

You awkwardly wobble to the bathroom, the load he fucked into you last night threatening to spill out of you with each step you take.

You switch the lights on and let him close the door behind you, trapping you against it in between his arms. He takes this opportunity to kiss you softly, catching you off guard by the sudden affection.

You welcome his kiss nonetheless, your hands roaming all over his shoulders and squeezing his muscles. You can’t get enough of him.

He abruptly pulls away and rubs your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, something unfamiliar pooling in his dark eyes as he stares you down. He parts his lips and it looks like he’s about to say something but he doesn’t. He closes his mouth and takes a step back, turning around and reaches for the lever to let the water run before he enters the shower.

A frown climbs onto your brows but you don’t comment on it. You won’t push him to talk. You quietly follow him, simply just getting into the shower and sliding the glass door shut. You cross your arms nervously as you wait for the water to heat up.

Jungkook is already used to cold showers so he hops right under, letting the droplets of water trickle down his honey skin. You reach out to him, suddenly getting the urge to slap his buttcheek, and you do.

He grunts as he glares at you over his shoulder, his buttcheeks clenching in response. You laugh as you reach for the body wash, squirting a generous amount onto your palm before you rub your hands all over his back. It’s almost like it happens automatically, he always used to ask you if you could wash his back for him.

You rub down to his buttcheeks and he whines your name childishly, making you laugh loudly. “Come on, you know I love your booty,” you tease, reaching around his waist from the back to grope his pecs.

He throws his head back in exasperation but he can’t help but chuckle, the lukewarm water finally hitting your skin. You sigh as you hold onto him, feeling his heart drum against your palm.

It’s quiet for a moment, the sound of the water hitting your bodies and the tiles filling up your eardrums. That is, until Jungkook breaks the silence.

“Have you been with anyone?” he quietly asks. The sudden question knocks the air out of your lungs for a moment because he has never asked this before in the 2 years you’ve been broken up.

Your heartbeat stutters in your chest and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he could feel your heart thumping against his back.

“Yeah.”

Jungkook’s body tenses under your skin and it isn’t long until he turns around to face you, a blank expression on his face but he doesn’t say anything.

“Do you know how it feels knowing you’re overseas fucking other people? Even when you’re here,” you explain in a panic, heart racing as he just stares you down intently.

“You’re the one that walked out on me, Y/N.”

His words sting.

“You know why I did that, Jungkook,” you whisper, tearing your gaze away from him as you pull your arms away from him to rub your own arms in an attempt to comfort yourself.

He huffs, “Yeah, and it was bullshit.”

Your head snaps back in his direction, anger bubbling in your chest and threatening to burst out of your throat in a pathetic cry. “What’s that supposed to mean, you dickhead?”

“Exactly what you think it means.” He nonchalantly shrugs, looking away from you for a moment as he rinses the bodywash. “Breaking up with me because I was ‘gone all the time’ and had a ‘dangerous job’, but you’re still here. You still let me hold you, you still let me kiss you, you still let me fuck you.”

You scoff, pushing against his chest but he doesn’t budge. You spin on your heels and reach out to the glass door of the shower, ready to make your exit but Jungkook is quicker. He doesn’t let you.

He pulls you back by your bicep, tugging on it until your back meets his chest. “You’re not going to rob me of the little time I have with you,” he mumbles as he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Let go.”

“No.” His reply is instantaneous, arms strongly caging you in.

You blink back the tears threatening to fall, his proximity enough to calm you down yet drive you crazy. You shake your head and begin, “Jungkook, I–”

“I’ll always want you, Y/N. Just say the words.”

You freeze, breath hitching in the back of your throat. You already know this. Jungkook doesn’t shy away from telling you about his feelings and reminds you every once in a while.

Before you can let your mind wander even more, you’re turned around by his strong arms in one swift motion, both his hands moving up to cup your face.

He tilts your face to make you look at him but you stay quiet. The words he’s yearning for you to say never come.

“Kiss me,” you whimper, not able to take this silence and not in the mood for a staring competition.

He doesn’t waste any time, he instantly leans down and presses his lips against yours whilst slowly pushing you backwards until your back collides with the cold tiles.

You deepen the kiss, your hands roaming his chest as he licks into your mouth. A grunt resounds in the back of your throat at the feeling of his hand slowly making its way down your waist, to your hip, to finally your bum.

He grabs a handful of your asscheek, squeezing it and it elicits a lewd moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to feel his growing erection inflating against your lower stomach and you reach for it.

You pump him slowly, making him grunt into your mouth. You rub your thumb all over his tip, gathering his precum and spreading it all over the head of his dick.

He pulls away from the kiss, his head dropping to your shoulder as you continue to pleasure him. His hand continues to knead your asscheek, a low swear word escaping his lips.

“Look at me,” you whisper, hand still jerking him off at a torturously slow pace.

He lifts his head off your shoulder slowly and let’s his eyes meet yours, head tilted downwards as he towers over you.

“How does it feel, knowing I did this with another man?” you ask him, a clear attempt at provoking him as you peek at him through your pretty lashes.

Something between an angry scowl and a confused frown etches onto his face and he merely grunts in response. His hand stops kneading your asscheek and before you know it, he’s turned you around, your front pressed into the tiles.

You’ve let go of his dick, hands now on each side of your breasts against the tiles in front of you. Your cheek is pressed against it as well, head turned enough to see him over your shoulder.

“I don’t want to hear about that fucking garbage,” he grunts, his hand pressed flat against the spot in between your shoulder blades as he holds you against the wall firmly.

You huff, but before you know it, his hand comes down to your asscheek in a powerful slap. It makes you jolt under his hold, a yelp ripping through your throat.

He spreads your asscheeks and slowly rubs the tip of his dick between your folds, earning a moan from you and you relax under his touch.

He pushes into you, eliciting a gasp from you at the intrusion. The delicious burn makes you arch your back more. He doesn’t really wait, he just starts slamming his hips into you, a series of cries and moans falling from your lips.

“Gonna fuck me like one of your hoes again?” you snark in between moans. Another slap to your asscheek makes you grunt and you look over your shoulder at him again.

He doesn’t even look at you, just snakes his hand around your face and drapes his palm over your mouth as he peels your face off the tiles and toward him, making you arch your back even more.

He continues to fuck angrily into you. “I fucking hate you,” he grunts, eyes glued to his dick disappearing inside of you.

You moan into his palm, eyes rolling back as the head of his dick repeatedly kisses your cervix. “Jungkook–!”

His other hand grips onto your waist, keeping you steady as he pounds into you. The strength in his hand has you seeing stars, if he put just a little more strength into it, you’re convinced he could crack your ribs.

“Come with me to Australia,” he whispers in your ear, lips softly brushing against the shell.

You close your eyes as you listen to his words. He’s often offered to take you with him, offered any way to keep seeing you, to keep being with you, to still have you.

“Please,” he whispers in desperation, the hand on your waist moving down to your sex as he furiously rubs your clit.

You cry into his hand, squirming and writhing under him but he has you under control. His thrusts never falter in speed and it has your eyes rolling back as you recognize the familiar knot in your stomach growing.

“Am gonna cum,” you whimper into his palm, but he doesn’t comment as he continues to destroy you.

He presses a kiss to the back of your ear, teeth gently nibbling on your earlobe and you slowly start losing control.

Your entire body is set alight, his hand leaving your mouth so he can listen to your pretty moans for him. Your orgasm comes to you like a punch to the gut, your eyes shutting tightly as pure bliss takes over you. You squirm under him, hips involuntarily jolting and knees buckling.

Both his hands return to your waist as he continues to fuck into you, wanting to get to his own release.

You’re fucked out, pressing your cheek against the tiles as moans continue to spill from your lips.

It doesn’t take long after for Jungkook to cum, shooting his release straight into you as he moans your name softly into your ear alongside a few swear words, which you’ve grown used to.

His thrusts get inconsistent, his breaths heavy and his grip on you loosens until he comes to a complete stop.

You stay there, mind clouded with nothing but Jungkook.

You’d considered going with him often but being on planes and having jet lag every few days wasn’t your dream, it was his. And while you would give up your life for him, you didn’t want him giving up his life for you. You know he’d start taking less fights, training, matches just to please you, to be with you, to love you.

He quietly pulls out but you don’t budge. When he notices, he takes it upon himself to clean you up, draping the showerhead over you, washing your body, your hair, his body, his hair.

The rest of the shower is quiet.

Not a single word was spoken.

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You both get dressed in silence, the occasional clinking of metal and ruffling of fabric being the only sounds in the room.

After he’s fully dressed and you’re back in your comfortable pajamas, you head down the corridor with him closely following behind you.

A soft exhale pushes past your lips when you unlock your front door as he puts his shoes on. You suddenly slouch, pressing your forehead against the front door. You think about the situation for a moment, the ruffling of him putting his shoes on being the only thing you hear.

“What?” he asks once he straightens his back and sees you looking out of it.

You push yourself off the door, turning to glance at him before momentarily looking away. “What are we doing, Jungkook?”

“What are you talking about?”

“This is not right.” You shake your head, your hand moving up to adjust the earring in your earlobe. “Why do you keep showing up at my front door?”

You’d never asked him that before so he’s surprised, the slight raise in his eyebrows being proof of that.

His brown eyes stare you down, a look of contemplation on his face before he takes a step closer to you – making your heartbeat mess up its perfectly fine pace.

“Why do you keep opening it for me?”

He knows he’s got you, that much is clear. You’re at fault as much as he is. You know you shouldn’t keep letting him in but you do and you always will. You’ll always want him.

He reaches for the door handle but you make no effort to move out of his way, essentially letting him cage you in between him and the door.

You really don’t want him to go.

You prepare to speak, clearing your throat in hopes that your voice doesn’t give out. “I’m trying to forget about you. You know that.”

His gaze burns holes in your irises, a whimper threatening to burst from your throat at the intensity. He leans down and presses his lips to yours in a quick kiss but pulls away too quickly for you, your lips chasing his for a split second before you realize he has already pulled away.

“I will never let you forget about me.”

The words leave his mouth with a certain arrogance yet desperation before he pulls you toward him by your waist. You think he’s going to kiss you again but he’s simply pulling you out of the way, to allow himself to open the door and leave.

And he does, your sad eyes intently watching as he exits your once-shared home and closes the door behind him, luggage in hand.

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[anantaru]

Do you have anything else on situationship with Scara?!?! I LOVE that concept.

cw. [ex]plicit, situationship & a little fuckboy scara and also very toxic, fem! reader

between you two, it's only sex to scaramouche, nothing more and nothing less— and with no hold barred, he plainly cannot allow himself to blow this situation out of proportion and make more out of it, even imagine the future possibility of your quote on quote, special relationship, becoming something meaningful, something satisfying.

although scaramouche knows that beyond anything else, the moment he shows up in front of your door step for this one particular feeling of unmixed pleasure, you're so compliant that it makes his mouth water— feeling a spark settle under his skin when you invite him into your home.

you do not trust him, really, you would be an idiot if you did— but you were growing frantic solely by how he'd fuck you each time he needed to feel you, how scaramouche imposed pleasure on you like he wholeheartedly hated your guts, always pistoling his cock fast and hard until droplets of his cum, dense and hefty in quantity, begin to spurt out of his throbbing red tip, battering up your walls like he'd always crave to.

the burning split of his cock adds a slight sting of pain and an ache in your lower region as you fold your arms around his body when scaramouche surprisingly doesn't mind, his body hot under your fingertips.

when it came to adding more physical intimacy than necessarily needed, you were always trying to stay in your lane as to not make yourself seem desperate, but much to your own surprise, scaramouche oddly enough welcomed you being this touchy with him and would sometimes search for it.

his lips stretch into a devilish smile, "hey, look at me," he repeats himself slowly when you do not do as he commands, a seething click of his tongue against the roof of his mouth signifying his growing temper,

"f-fuck—come on now, you don't want to test your luck with me, do you?" he blows off hot air, searching for your flustered face.

you sob and cry out when he fucks you faster instead, your eyes glossed up in warm tears as the confines of your pussy had taken over the size of his shaft piercing through you,

"i-i'm looking," mewling, you push your spine up after another hard thrust, "I'm always looking a-at you," as his heart suddenly soars at your candid admittance, catching him off guard, resulting in a strong shade of his cheeks forming a deep red.

"ugh, good," scaramouche groans through the single word, "all i wanted you to say in the first place," which made it all the better.

manic with desire, your legs shiver as he fucks you into the mattress, the muscles on his back flexing as he thrusts into your cunt— and in this searing moment in time, your pussy was filthy, slobbering all over his girth and marking him with your liquids.

your eyes were hazy with a sensation you couldn't possibly name even if you wanted to, your sore hole incapable to stop twitching around his girth as scaramouche searches for your pouted lips at last, his tongue demanding when he traps it in between your mouth, taking a huge gulp of air before muttering something inaudible into your lips.

"w-what a shame," he grinds his hips deeper, holding still for a second before whining out slightly, "hah, this supposed feeling of love sure is a terrible thing, don't you think?"

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[finelinevogue]

friends before fans

summary - you were harry’s girlfriend and now you’re just friends, but the fans still dislike you

word count: -1.5k

pairing: ex-boyfriend!harry x reader

a/n: some mentions of therapy, rehab and mental health issues. idk wtf this is but let me know if you enjoy!!!!

Being Harry Styles ex-girlfriend was hard.

Dating Harry was easy, but the aftermath of breaking up with him was devastating.

It was scary how quickly fans could turn on you. Harry has such a huge following, but you never thought you’d go through what you’ve gone through.

Times had been so tough over the past few years, after the breakup, to the point where you weren’t scared at the thought of dying.

Just because you’d broken up with Harry though, never meant that you’d fallen out of love.

The newspaper headlines were the first to attack you.

Harry is so famous that the headline made the front page. Especially when you and Harry had been crowned as the most loved celebrity couple out there.

They didn’t know the truth though.

You were called toxic. Crazy. Manipulative and psychotic.

You would just call yourself depressed.

The year 2021 had not been a good year mentally for you and it constantly felt like you were dragging Harry down with you.

“Babe, it’s time to go meet our friends.” Harry said from the other room.

You were still laying in bed, unbothered to move because you just didn’t have the mental energy.

“Babe?” Harry called after no response from you.

“Y/N? We need to go now.”

“I can’t.” You said softly, no energy to speak louder.

You could hear Harry sigh loudly. Loud enough for you to know you’d upset him, but quiet enough to know he wasn’t going to argue with you.

He just quietly left instead, leaving you in bed with nothing but dark thoughts.

You could see how miserable you were making him, because of how miserable you were yourself. It only took one conversation to change everything.

“I think I need some space.” You told Harry, just quietly on the sofa next to him.

“Space?” Harry questioned.

“I n-need… I-I…. I want to go to therapy, H. I am scared I might do something stupid a-and I feel so sad all the time.” You started to sob.

“Baby… I.. I never never knew you felt this way.” Harry brought you over to him and sat you comfortably on his lap. He was crying too, ashamed he had not seen the signs of you feeling this bad.

“For a while now. I-I’m so sorry.”

“No apologies, baby. None at all. I love you so much and I will always love you so much. Let’s just get you loving yourself first, yeah?”

Harry had helped you find a rehabilitation centre for mental recovery and you were there for at least six months.

He was constantly there for you throughout the rehab process. He never once skipped the chance to visit you on visiting days. He paid for the entire process, even though you had been strongly against that.

Harry constantly reminded you how much you are loved, especially by him.

It took a while, but you finally got to a place where you could love yourself and life again.

When you left rehab, you realised just how bad things were in the social media world.

The moment your relationship was publicly announced as over, you were turned into a villain.

You had stopped the relationship with Harry, solely because you couldn’t give him everything he deserved.

No matter, Harry waited for you. Still is.

You weren’t a celebrity. Instead, you were a good home friend of Harry’s. Your fame came from being attached to Harry.

Now your fame was for the wrong reasons.

You never cared about fame anyways, but the constant hate and abuse is tough.

Harry is still always there for you, though.

There was an endless stream of hate on Twitter towards you.

Even still 3 years on.

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A simple post on Instagram and everyone on social media would attack you. For being there. For existing.

Everything changed a while ago now.

Harry had texted you a couple of weeks back, out of the blue.

Your hands were slightly sweaty as you walked through backstage to find the friends and family room.

Harry had secured you special tickets for all four Wembley dates, but you could only hope yourself to attend this last one.

You hadn’t seen Harry for months, still just friends.

Or exes. Depending from which angle you’re looking at it from.

You came today because you wanted to show your support for Harry, especially after the last few years you’ve put him through.

Holding the flowers in your none shaking hand, you entered the friends and family room.

It had been very long since you’d seen everyone. You found it difficult to see Harry’s family without Harry.

Luckily, Harry was in the room.

Dressed in comfortable clothes, he was a few hours before getting ready for night 4 at Wembley.

You stood to the back of the room, out of the way, since you didn’t feel secure enough to meet anyone. You often felt like, even though Harry always vouched for you, that his family still disliked you for putting their Harry through so much heartbreak.

What no one seemed to understand, though, was that Harry would endure that heartbreak all over again if it meant you could get help and become stronger again.

When Harry’s aunty turned around she spotted you. Either she didn’t realise it was you or was just looking into the distance, but because you thought she was glaring at you it made you feel super insecure.

Twitter was already trending your name because fans had spotted you outside the venue. Everyone was begging you to stay away from Harry.

Now his aunty looked like she meant the same thing.

You left the flowers on the table, that came with a card so he’d know who they’re off, and exited the room.

As you walked down the corridor, a security guard and must be fan stopped you.

“Are you Y/N L/N?” She asked.

“Yeah?”

“Wow. You have some unbelievable nerve being here.” Her words took you aback.

“I’m sorry?”

“Yeah too fucking right.” She scoffed and walked wherever she was meant to be.

You stood in the corridor and thought over what she’d just said to you. There has been no need to be so aggressive. She didn’t know anything about you or your situation. She can’t hurt you when she doesn’t understand the truth.

You were trying to repeat everything your therapist had taught you, but it was difficult with so many thoughts running through your mind.

Temporarily squeezing your eyes, you tried to press the negative thoughts away.

“Breathe.”

Your eyes shot open to see Harry in front of you.

It was amazing how Harry always seemed to meet you at the right place and at the right time whenever you needed him. It was never that you needed anybody. You needed him.

“It’s okay. I’m here.” Harry said, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek and softly stroke your cheek.

“You’re here.” You repeated to yourself.

“You’re alright, Y/N. We’re okay.”

Harry leaned into you and pressed a kiss to your forehead softly. You smiled at the familiar feeling.

“Hi.” You smiled shyly.

“Hello, you.”

“I arrived a little bit ago, but I got overwhelmed in that room.” You explained yourself.

“It’s okay. Mum saw you and said you looked sheepish. Came here as soon as she said. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Just don’t know whether I’m supposed to be here. People know i’m here and it’s… they’re not happy. I don’t want to cause any drama and—”

“Y/N, love, you’re not. They are causing the drama. I want you here. I’m okay with you being here. I am happy you’re here. That’s all that matters.”

Harry moved to hug you and you squeeze him back just as hard. His hugs always make you feel safe. He smells as warm and comforting as he feels.

“Please don’t leave.” He whispered against your face.

“I’m not. Just need you with me for a bit.”

“I’m more than okay with that.”

During the show, Harry made a speech about you.

He was fed up with the negative press and the hate you get. It was time to say something.

“My ex-girlfriend is here tonight! She’s my favourite person. I hope you love her as much as I do. All m’songs are written about her too. I thought we’d try an oldie for tonight, so I can dedicate to my person. I hope you’ll all join in with me and sing out if you know the words. This is Sunflower.”

[jenosbigtoe]

EX BF JENO SMUT ?? NO PRESSURE AND U DONT HAVE TO RESPOND HAPPY THANKSGIVING <3

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: ex boyfriend!lee jeno x reader

warnings: jealousy, fellatio, facefucking, possessive jeno, he’s MEAN too, toxic ex (don’t let a man treat you like this)

it’s been a while since you’ve been in this position.

on your knees, as your ex boyfriend grabs your hair to shove your sobbing face further down his fat cock.

“look at this nasty little slut,” he growled, one hand tangled up in your hair, the other gripping your throat just tight enough to make you dizzy. “so much of a whore she got her face stuffed with her ex’s cock.”

he was always so big, too big for you to handle. tears fell from your eyes in black rivers of mascara as you struggled to take him further down your throat. you certainly didn’t break up with him because of his dick.

he used his hips to pin you against the wall behind you and started shallow thrusts into your drooling mouth, his fat cock splitting your face open. the stream of tears from your eyes and spit drooling from your mouth ran down your face and onto your bare chest, shirt ripped from his forcefulness before.

“you like this huh? you did that shit on purpose, grinding on my best friend’s dick at this party you knew i was at,” his thrusts into your mouth got faster, deeper with every word, as he grew angrier at the memory of your whorish antics. “crying like a baby but you like having my cock shoved down your throat.”

you attempted to shake your head in protest but his hand around your neck kept you in place. he briefly let go of your hair to give you a slap in the face. you cried harder but fuck was it hot, rubbing your legs together and trying to soothe the ache throbbing in your core.

without warning, he started fucking your face at a relentless pace, holding you in your place from the tight grip in your hair and around your neck. you squirmed around, moaning and crying on his dick but he continued fucking his fat cock into your mouth, hard and fast.

“fuck,” he growled. “almost forgot how much i loved shoving my cock down your throat.” his used his grip on your hair to push you further down his cock with each thrust, lost in the pleasure your mouth was giving him.

“this’ll teach you you’re still fucking mine. isn’t that right slut?”

[chogiwow]

for well and for good | park sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x gn!reader

genre: angst

wc: 1k

warnings: allusions to a toxic past relationship (sunghoon and unnamed ex), crying (a lot), hurt-no-comfort fic, heartbreak; sunghoon realises his feelings for you too late

a/n: all i want is to break hearts <3

a/n pt 2: umm, not a solid plot but more so like a scene building concept?

there wasn’t a more heartbreaking moment than this, not for sunghoon; not even when the consequences of his actions that led him here had played out exactly as you had warned him it would.

now it was too late, and beg as he might, a heavy feeling in his chest slowly settled against his favour, a premonition turning true and cry as much as he wanted, everything was spiralling out of control so fast, he wasn’t sure who he should save first.

“(y/n)...(y/n) please, i can’t do this, i can’t live without you. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, please don’t leave, i need you…i love you.”

the more he weeped for a lost cause, the more it hurt your chest and ripped you apart piece by piece but you made no attempts at stopping the pain.

everyone had always assumed that you and sunghoon would be the endgame. it was so obvious! you both were head over heels for each other, but of course, of course the heart wavers ever so often now and then. sunghoon let himself ignore all the signs, pretend that the affection and sweet words weren’t another ploy for his wealth, his looks, his popularity, the safety and love he was so willing to provide someone, because he was always so very generous. generous and ridiculously naive; always looking to give away a piece of himself to anyone who so much as asked for it.

and a man in love is hard to sway again, especially when the man is sunghoon, with his giving nature and so much love that filled his heart that he couldn’t contain it any longer.

words were said – spit almost venomously at the cost of saving face and pride, and how dare you question his love and hers, when you had no business? how dare you make assumptions about this beautiful woman who loved him – at least he hoped she did – as much as he did?

and then…and then everything you said came true. your warnings carefully etched themselves like knife carvings on a paper – vehemently and so very stubbornly irreversible. now he’s here, after months of grieving not just the loss of his trust in love, but also you. and he had to make things right, but how does one convince a person they've broken and trampled upon so mercilessly, that they are indeed in love with them?

how does sunghoon convince you that he’s so utterly in love with you that he could physically feel the pain of your pointed ignoring and cold looks? how does he even begin to express how sorry he was when the unsaid apology squeezed the breath out of him in aggrieved pants? how does sunghoon not lose you again?

“”i’m sorry hoon, i can’t do this anymore. i can’t love you anymore, i don’t want to love you anymore…you’ve hurt me too much.”

“(y/n) please, please i beg you,”

and beg he did; getting down on his knees on the cold tile floors of your living room, he wrapped his arms around your waist and dampened your shirt with his hot tears. neither he nor you were making much sense of this conversation anymore.

he felt you shake in his embrace, your own tears and gasps of air breaking his chants of an apology, his hands tightening around you to physically feel your touch after months.

“hoon stop it,” a wretched sob, ugly as it sounded when it tumbled out of your lips in pain, like a helpless rotten fruit falling off its branches, makes you whimper and clutch onto the clinging man's hand who refused to let you go.

in a hurried motion sunghoon is up on his feet, holding you by the shoulder that shakes with the cries staining your cheeks.

“i can’t live without you, please give me another chance,” he shakes his head frantically, mumbling out his words in a frenzy as he is yet again painfully reminded of exactly how weighted his words were and how much truth they held in them. it weighed him down, your refusal to look past this, like a sack of cotton drowning in water, and yet he could not bring himself to blame you, hoping against hope that his words would make a change.

his lips find your forehead, pressing down on them in a hot kiss; the trembling of his lips breaks you, you wish would stop – but he doesn’t. he’s kissing your shoulder, your arms, your wrists, your palms and he’s kissing your forehead – again and again and again and again – until you push yourself away, your eyes closed, shaking your head.

“don’t, it’s time we stopped this. we can’t hope for things that were never meant to be.”

sunghoon was standing on the edge of a cliff, and you just pushed him off into a bottomless pit that made his insides curl into themselves, his hands shooting in the air for something to grasp but there’s only air that passes through his fingers like bullets.

in his last attempt he kisses you on the lips. he holds your face so gently and kisses you so deeply and for a moment you feel yourself swaying. you let him kiss you, because you know this would be the last time you would let this happen. you whimper into his mouth and he lets a broken sob tumble on your lips where it stays as a reminder of this very moment, searing you both apart. you don’t kiss back.

“stop it, please. you’re hurting me.” it’s a whispered plea, but to sunghoon it’s a huge boulder that blocks his way from you. you’ve planted it there for once and for all, and he knows that there’s nothing he can do to make you move it.

“i’m sorry, i love you, but i don't want to anymore. i’m sorry.” 

sunghoon rests his forehead against yours, your tears mingled and continuous and he knows he’s lost you now, for well and for good.

[soulwrencher]

and still i answer your call when she doesn't answer at all

pairing: ellie x fem!reader

warnings: toxic relationship, no nsfw, mentions of vomit, reader is stupid, soft ellie, curse words, not proof read, will never proof read im so sorry

word count: 1,3k

summary: you find yourself at ellie's place again after you fought with your girlfriend, not a first. or; you don't realise that ellie has loved you for a long time now.

it's probably past midnight but nothing matters anymore. blurred vision, narrow path, broken streetlights. thoughts fleet your mind as cars drive past, your heartbeat picking up the pace.

why on earth were you in a relationship when all you did was fight, get insulted and humiliated?

for god's sake, this is the third time this month you walked down this road, sobbing. your screen lights up, the brightness gives you a headache after all this crying. you ignore it, because you feel like your bones would give up any second if you chose to concentrate on something else.

pacing through her living room, ellie checks her phone twice, even thrice, but no new message yet.

'need me to come pick you up?' delivered.

just about when she made up her mind to get dressed and pick you up, the door rings. sighing in relieve, ellie opens the door, while taking a look back, making sure everything's in place. blanket on couch? check. water and snacks? plenty. tissues? ready to be used. she hears the heavy footsteps that belong to none other than you, nervousness starts to creep up on the nape of her neck. even though you've been friends for a year or two, ellie can't help but feel nervous around you and she'd never been able to ignore it. and there you are, mascara smudged, flushed cheeks and a red nose. but it wasn't the only redness ellie was concerned about. her eyes wander down to the bouquet of red roses your holding upside down.

oh, someone fucked up big time, ellie thinks to herself.

but before anything, she pulls you into a hug, mumbling a 'you okay?' into your hair. it's ridiculous how she could still ask this while seeing your swollen from crying face, but you still shake your head. however, you know that she cares immensely about you, otherwise you wouldn't be at her place at 2 am. her arms are no longer around you and she takes the bouquet from your hand and puts it on a coffee table. you take off your jacket, throw it to your left while you let yourself sink into the couch. ellie has watched your every step carefully, she's scared you might faint right in front of her because you've lost all colour in your face. a lot of time has passed sitting in silence, until ellie decides to speak up. she seems to hesitate, her eyebrows furrowed.

"so, what happened today?" she asks carefully, placing her hand on your thigh. you look at her hand placement, then at her. the way she looks at you makes you wish that your girlfriend ever looked at you like this, with so much care. you take a deep breath, then decide it's best to tell your friend what happened.

"i told her she should stop talking to her ex, i saw her ex text her 'i miss you' the other day," you say, feeling your tears swell up. ellie returns a soft 'mhm' signalising that she's listening.

"and then today, she bought me these flowers to apologise, but when she apologised, she fucking said her name instead of mine," you watch ellie gasp in shock, passing you some tissues as tears start to stream down your face.

"then we argued, she said she can't help but think about her, i told her i'd leave and then she started to insult me, threatened me even and i couldn't take it anymore," you spare ellie the details because you don't want her to worry too much, you know that she worries a lot about you.

ellie looks at you, pours in some water for you, all in silence. it confuses you because usually, she'd be much more talkative but today, something is different about her. if you weren't so upset about your own situation you would've asked, however you don't have the strength.

you drink some water, put it back on the table and as soon as your hands were free, ellie pulls you back and lays your head on her chest. you've needed this. you needed some comfort, comfort your girlfriend couldn't give you. you feel ellie's chest rise as she sighs.

"fuck, you don't even like roses..." she mutters disappointed, which surprises you. how did she know? when did you tell her? but her stroking your head seems to make you forget everything, objectively speaking, her big and rough hands had a nice feeling to them, they make you feel protected. you're in no position though to think about this, ellie is just a friend and you're in a relationship. and only now you realise that ellie has prepared all your favorite snacks, ready to be eaten just for you. how often have you been here? you know that ellie hates all of them, but still, they're here just for you. this isn't good, you need to stop thinking, you need this silence to end.

"want to watch something?" you ask, ellie nods. she picks up the tv remote, turns the tv on and stands up. you look at her confused, she holds out her hand, telling you to wait. you sit back, watching her silhouette. has her body always looked this good? you can appreciate when someone's attractive, so this means nothing. she squats in front of the tv, searching through the mini tv cabinet. a triumphant 'aha!' emerges from the front, ellie turns around to you, holding madagascar 2. you honestly don't feel like laughing at all, but you can't help but giggle a little.

"what the fuck, why do you have this?" you question, squinting your eyes to check if it's really that what you think it is.

"we talked about it once—" she's back to squatting, putting the dvd in,

"—and you said you really liked this movie back then—" ellie comes back to the couch, looking up to her sure is an interesting view. objectively speaking.

"—so last week i was on a flea market and saw they had this movie, it made me think of you," ellie says, her arm around you again, pulling you close to her. two things: why are her arms so big and she thought of you?

"wish my girlfriend was a little more like you," you say while leaning your head against her shoulder. a little more like her. for fuck's sake, ellie doesn't know how much longer she can do this. watch you suffer, watch you cry, watch you completely look the other way. you haven't left ellie's mind ever the two of you started talking. at first she thought she was just excited to have a new friend, but the more often you laid in her arms, the more her feelings grew. and she hated to see you hurt like this, when she knew that you could have her. it doesn't even stop there, because how come you wish for your girlfriend to be like her when she is literally there? how come you see all the things she does for you, but never questioned its intentions? fuck, she'd never make you cry or leave her place in the middle of the night, she'd talk it through, she would...

but what are would have's when ellie knows your blinded by the way you're hurting, you'd never see ellie the way she sees you. she'd stop the world for you but until you realise that the world would start spinning again. fuck your girlfriend, she didn't even know you hated roses, she doesn't know you the way ellie does. in fact, fuck her so much, because the last time she made you cry, you started puking and ellie was there the whole time, held your hair up, rubbed your back, washed your face, carried you back to her bed, made you some tea and even tucked you in bed. if she only could speak the way her actions do, her pouring her heart out would've been long overdue.

"i'd treat you so much better than her..." ellie whispers into your hair, but you've fallen asleep in her arms long ago.

a/n: sorry it took me so long to post, also BRYSON TILLER WILL BE ON TOUR OH MY GOD all credits to bryson tiller when i listen to his songs i think about ellie <333 anyway inspo was 'no longer friends' bryson tiller.

[teapartyprincess4two]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING FOR MATT BASED ON THE SONG HEARTBREAK GIRL BY 5SOS.

Idc how long it is (the longer the better)

pls pls pls I will sell my left foot to read it 🙏

Heartbreak Girl- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Taken!reader x BestFriend!Matt

classification: angst

warnings: pining, clueless reader, toxic relationship, jealousy, heartbreak, friendzone, slight cursing, use of y/n, unrequited love, mentions of cheating, panic attack, no happy ending (sorry, the song calls for it)

inspiration: request^^, Heartbreak Girl by 5SOS

summary: Matt’s in love with you, but you’re too in love with someone else to realize it.

Heartbreak Girl PT.1, PT.2

—

Matt’s phone rings loudly on his bedside table, waking him from his sleep. His eyes jolt open, the loud ringing scaring him. He knows who’s calling, but hopes it’s someone else this time so he can hang up without being eaten alive by the guilt. A sigh leaves his lips as he checks the caller ID, your name shining brightly on his phone screen. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he answers, “y/n?” Your sobs immediately fill the room as they emit from his phone speaker, he grimaces slightly at the loud noise and holds the phone away from his face.

It was always the same thing with you, you’d call him late at night complaining and crying about something your boyfriend, Mike, did. Matt would comfort you time and time again, advising you to just break up with that loser and sometimes you’d listen. You and Mike would break up, sometimes for as long as a week, but you’d always end up welcoming him back into you life at the slightest apology.

“What did he do this time?” Matt asks, another sigh leaving his mouth. He’s propped up on an elbow, his head hanging forward with his eyes shut as he tries fighting sleep. If you were anyone else he would’ve stopped picking up your calls a long time ago, but you’re his best friend and he feels a sense of responsibility for you. “First, he called me annoying and then we got in this big fight and then he left. He said he’s going back to his ex,” you hiccup, barely sounding coherent through your sobs.

Matt wants to scream into his pillow, was this not the same fight you had with Mike last week? “Well-” Matt begins, but is quickly interrupted by you. “He accused me of cheating too! Doesn’t he know I love him? I’d never cheat!” you exclaim through the phone, your words coming out a mile a minute.

Love. Matt cringed at the word, how could you possible love a guy who’s favorite pass time was making you cry.

Matt could tell you were entering a stare of hysteria, your breathing was erratic and you wouldn’t stop crying. “Alright, y/n. Try to calm down,” he whispers sternly, trying to bring you back to reality. With every late night phone call Matt gained more and more reasons to hate your stupid boyfriend. “Okay… I’m calm,” you reply, bringing your voice down and attempting to steady your breathing. He knows you’re faking it, but he appreciates that you’re at least trying.

“Okay, now telling me what happened,” he instructs, a part of him wanting to hear all the details of your argument so his hatred for your boyfriend would be more justified. You retold the events in excruciating detail, mentioning everything that was said and done. So much of it repulsed Matt, how could two people treat each other like that? He felt his heart breaking with each word, but the anger he felt was much stronger, “he really called you that?!”

Matt’s jaw was clenched, his teeth grinding against each other in the process. He heard your sniffles on the other side of the phone, a part of him wished he could just hold you. “Yeah, but he’s not that bad,” your voice was hushed, almost like you were afraid. You sounded scared to admit it, mostly because you knew Matt would get mad. You, of course, guess correctly because Matt replies angrily, “He’s not THAT bad?!?”

If he had any common sense he’d just hang the phone up now because there was obviously no getting through to you. But, a part of him is praying that one day you’ll realize what a loser Mike is and then maybe you’ll realize that he’s been here all along. “Well, I mean, it takes two to fight,” you reply in an attempt to defend your last statement. Matt rubs his temples, trying to massage his growing headache away.

“Y/n, stop being so naive,” he says harshly. At this point his anger has completely consumed him but he bites his tongue to stop the venom from spilling.

“Don’t be mean,” you mumble. There was no excuse for Mike’s behavior, not that you were much better, but you couldn’t let this become your forever. “I’m not being mean. I’m being real,” he replies, his voice softening a bit when he realizes how harsh his words sounded.

A brief silence settles in the conversation, but Matt can hear soft mumbling in the background. Matt assumes you’re talking but somehow the audio got muffled. “I can’t hear you,” he says, turning the volume up on his phone. The mumbling gets a little louder and then suddenly he hears it, it’s Mike. He must’ve come back once he cooled off, he’s sure to reel you back in with broken promises and empty apologies.

“Matt, I have to go. Mike is here,” you whisper into the phone, clearly scared to be caught venting your problems to your best friend. Mike, Mike, Mike. What was so special about Mike anyways? Sometimes, if Matt repeated the name enough it almost sounded like his own name. Matt, Matt, Matt. He wished it was.

He wants to beg you to stay on the phone, but he knows there’s no use. All he can do is advise you to choose better and hope that this time you’ll listen, “y/n, don’t do anything stupid.” There’s a lot of shuffling coming from your end, if Matt closes his eyes he can imagine every single movement. “Okay, bye friend. Love you,” you say quickly.

Friend. That is a word Matt will be reduced to for the rest of his life. He wants to be more than that with you, but a part of him knows that you two will be stuck going in circles again and again. You fight Mike, you break up, you cry to Matt, you make up with Mike, and Matt’s lost his chance with you yet another time.

Before he can reply he hears the phone click, you hung up. He knows that you’re probably already reconciling with Mike and even though it makes him mad, it mostly makes him feel helpless. Matt tosses his phone back onto his bedside table before dramatically falling back onto the bed. He knows that if you just opened your eyes you’d realize that he was here all along, that he’d never hurt you.

But, despite his better judgement, Matt will keep picking up your phone calls because he’s a sucker when it comes to you.

—

The sound of arcade games echo around the building as Matt and his brothers walk around the arcade in an attempt to find the perfect game. They only had a few tokens left, so they had to spend them wisely. You were there too, but you were so immersed in Mike’s presence that it was like you weren’t. Matt had invited you in hopes to finally get you alone, away from Mike. But, that stupid guy followed you like his life depended on it. You were so enthralled by Mike that you hadn’t even played a single game, even Nick and Chris found it annoying.

“What about ski ball?” Chris suggests, the three of them had lapped around the arcade a billion times and still couldn’t find the right game. “No,” Nick says, peering around the arcade for a better game. “Bumper cars?” Chris suggests again, running out of options to say. “We don’t even have enough tokens for that,” Matt scoffs, joining Nick as he looks around the room.

“Fine you pick,” Chris grumbles, leaning against the nearest game as he waits for his brothers to choose. As they’re surveying the room, Nick and Matt see you in the corner talking with your boyfriend. You two seemed to be caught up in an argument like usual, earning an eye roll from Nick. “I don’t know what she sees in that guy,” he comments, trying to read your lips to see what the argument is about. “I hate that guy,” Chris chimes in, joining his brothers in their watch party.

Matt hums in agreement, not wanting to say too much in regard to the situation. He can only assume that you did something Mike didn’t like and now you’re getting in trouble for it. The conversation seems to get heated enough for you to storm off, making your way towards the triplets. “Oh shhh- she’s coming, she’s coming,” Chris warns, trying to act casual.

Nick does the same, leaning against the machine closest to him. Matt’s eyes widen, all he can think to do is turn quickly on his heel to face his brothers. They immediately engage in a fake conversation in attempt to convince you that they weren’t watching. It seems to work.

“Ah yes, McDonalds does have the best chicken nuggets. Good point, Chris,” Nick says as he looks towards his brothers expectantly, but you’re so mad you don’t even notice the ridiculous conversation topic. “Guys you can have my tokens, I’m leaving,” you say, not even introducing yourself with a hello. You pull the tokens out of your pocket, dumping them all in Chris’s hands. He was so excited to have more tokens that he didn’t even care you were leaving.

“Is everything okay?” Matt asks, watching as you hurriedly try to get rid of all your tokens. “No, bro. Stupid Mike, dude. He got mad that I wanted to play so he brought up his ex again, can you believe that?” you scoff, still fishing for more tokens in your pockets. Why was every argument you had with Mike about his ex?

“Gross. Why are you leaving though? You haven’t played a single game,” Nick asks, taking a few tokens from Chris for himself. He and Chris also disliked your boyfriend because you two were always fighting about stupid stuff. But, they weren’t as involved in your love life as Matt was, so they didn’t know how often you two were actually fighting. “Cause he’s my ride and he said he’s leaving,” you grumble, finally looking up from your pockets to look at your friends.

“We can take you home,” Matt suggests, not wanting you to leave just yet. He says it so quickly and eagerly that his brothers give him a weird look, he catches it and coughs awkwardly. “I mean, if you want to stay,” he mumbles in an attempt not to seem so desperate.

You look between your friends and the arcade entrance, trying to decide whether you should stay or go. Matt bites his tongue, trying to prevent himself from saying something he’ll later regret. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and scream that you should just leave that stupid loser.

“I don’t know, it’s getting late,” you attempt to reason as you check your phone for the time. It was only 5pm, but your heart really wanted to follow Mike before he decided he was done with you for real. Upon checking the time, you see a message from Mike that made your stomach turn.

Mike: I left. have fun with your friends. we’re done.

Matt watches as your expression completely drops, you look like you just got the life sucked out of you. “Did he leave?” Matt asks softly, not trying to upset you more than you already were. You shove your phone into you pocket and put on a fake smile, ignoring his question. “It’s only 5, we got time,” you say excitedly, trying to pretend like you didn’t just receive the most heart breaking message ever.

Nick and Chris don’t know any better, so they immediately perk up at this and drag you back into the arcade. Matt, on the other hand, can read you like the back of his hand. He sees how your shoulders slump and how a frown replaces your smile when you think no one’s looking.

Throughout the whole night he wants to scream out, ‘you can be with me now!’ But he knows that you’re not ready, maybe you’ll never be ready. And that, to Matt, is so frustrating.

—

For the rest of the night the boys work towards distracting you from Mike. They use your tokens to win as many games as possible. Matt is focused primarily on convincing you you should leave Mike for good this time. He watches as you attempt to get the basketball into the net as he says, “I’m just saying, you’d be much happier without that guy.”

You fumble with the basketballs in front of you, missing each shot terribly, but welcoming the distraction from the conversation Matt was trying to have. He watches as you roll your eyes and continuing trying to play the game, “tell me one good thing he’s done.” This statement catches you off guard, you’re sure that Mike is a good guy, but for some reason you can’t think of a single good thing he’s done.

You scoff at Matt, throwing the last basketball at the net only for it to hit the rim and fall out. “He does a lot of good things,” you reply annoyed, watching as the machine disperses your tickets. All you earned from this game was 8 tickets considering you missed more than half the shots. “Okay, then name one,” he retorts, ready to challenge you whether you liked it or not. Your mind is racing trying to think of one good thing Mike has done that Matt would find valid, but you still can’t think of one.

Annoyed, you snatch the tickets from the machine, accidentally tearing the last one in half in the process. Matt watches you, noticing how the frustration seems to get the best of you. He knows you won’t be able to think of a single good thing Mike has done, especially not after he ditched you here to fend for yourself. “See, you can’t even think of one. He treats you so bad, y/n. You don’t deserve that, you deserve someone who’ll treat you right,” Matt says, the both of you walking in the direction where you last saw Nick and Chris.

“Oh yeah? Who would that someone be?” you retort, looking around the entire arcade in search of Nick and Chris. You desperately needed to find them so they could serve as a buffer between you and Matt right now. He was asking too many uncomfortable questions and honestly was starting to push your buttons, he doesn’t know Mike like you do. “I mean, I’ve always treated you right,” Matt’s reply is so bold that it even catches him by surprise, what the hell was he even saying right now? He knew he was setting himself up for heartbreak and the friendzone, but he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

You look at him briefly, a little shocked that he’d even say that. I mean, you two have been best friends for so long that a relationship with Matt would be like dating a brother. The thought is weird, but you don’t want to offend him, “yeah, but you’re my best friend. Friends are supposed to be nice to each other.” Each time you say friend it feels like a stab to the heart. He seemed to be stuck in the friendzone again and again.

“Y/n! Matt!” Nick calls out from the ticket machine, both he and Chris feeding their tickets into it. You perk up at the sight of them and walk over immediately You feel a wave of relief wash over you when you see them, finally you’ll be able to escape this awkward situation Matt put you in. Matt can’t help but feel sad, but he tries not to show it.

“We’re gonna get a remote control car!” Chris says excitedly, referring to the prize they were going to cash in for using all their tickets. Without another word he takes all yours and Matt’s tickets so he can feed them into the machine. You chuckle at this, finding it amusing.

Matt offers a small smile.

—

After redeeming your prizes, the four of you decided it was time to head home. You picked out a giant plushie while the three of them combined their tickets for Chris’s remote control car.

Matt pulled up to you house reluctantly, wishing he could kidnap you and take you to their house once he saw Mike’s car parked outside. “Mike’s home?” Chris asks you casually as soon as Matt places the car in park. “Yeah, guess so,” you reply as you unbuckle yourself, trying not to sound too excited. Deep down you were bubbling with emotions, mostly happiness because if Mike is home that means he’s definitely not done with your relationship.

“Bye guys, I had so much fun!” you dismiss yourself eagerly, all you want to do is go inside and reconcile with your boyfriend. Nick and Chris bid you goodbye but Matt stays silent, he doesn’t want you to leave. You hug Nick in the back seat and pat Chris’s shoulder as you open the car door. You offer Matt a small, awkward smile before grabbing your plushie and hopping out of the car.

Matt feels so defeated, if he weren’t such a pushover when it came to you he’d tell you the truth. The truth is that Mike is leading you on, playing with your feelings, abusing of emotions, and flaunting you around like a trophy when he feels like it. The truth is that Matt is in love with you and has been since the first time he saw you, but he’s too scared to ruin your friendship to admit it.

Matt watches as you walk up to your front door, plushie tucked under your arm. There’s an eager pep in your step that makes Matt want to throw up. Chris is scrolling through his phone, forgetting about you as soon as got off the car. Nick is watching Matt, confused as to why he looks so sad. “Are we gonna move? I’m fucking hungry, dude,” Chris groans from the passenger seat, throwing his head back dramatically against the car seat.

You were inside already, but Matt stayed outside your house and watched as the lights in your house turned on one by one. He knew you were searching the house like a madwoman for Mike. “Can you drive?!” Nick chimes in, grabbing Matt by the shoulder to break him from his daze. Matt’s eyes remain trained on your bedroom window, watching as the light turns on and your shadow comes into view as he responds, “yeah, sorry.”

He puts the car in drive, slowly letting the car roll down the street. Matt’s breath hitches as Mike’s shadow comes into view, he’s praying that you’ll just run out of the house and back into the car. The car is slowly rolling down the street, Matt’s foot hovering over the break in an attempt to slow the car down even more. Your shadow and Mike’s meet for a hug and soon enough you’re kissing. Matt’s foot slams on the break suddenly causing the car to jolt forward, he knew it was coming but it didn’t hurt any less.

“What the fuck Matt?!” Chris exclaims, looking up at Matt in bewilderment. The seatbelt was choking him slightly and his phone flew off his lap. Nick’s head hit the front seat headrest slightly, causing him to gasp in surprise. “Matt what the actual fuck are you doing?!” Nick yelled, meeting Matt’s eyes through the rearview mirror.

There was no way Matt was about to admit that he was watching you through your window. So, he made up the quickest lie he could think of, “Sorry. I got a cramp.” He offered both his brothers a fake smile in hopes that they’d believe his lie. It seemed to satisfy them seeing as they rolled their eyes and returned to their phones. Matt took his foot off the break, looking back at your house one last time.

The lights were off.

—

Matt doesn’t hear from you until two days later. You called him at 12pm, which was completely uncommon for you to do. You were usually calling him at 12am, breaking him from his deep sleep to rant about Mike.

“Hello?” Matt answers the phone immediately, if this is another call about Mike and his stupid actions he’s ready to be honest this time. “You busy?” You ask, propping the phone between your shoulder and your face so you can freely look through the racks of clothing in front of you.

Matt examines his surrounding, trying to decide whether he’s truly busy or not. He’s not. “Mmm not really. Why?” He asks, getting up from his spot on the couch and walking over to his room. He hears the metal hangers scraping against the clothings racks in the background before you reply, “wanted to see if you were down for lunch.”

This was the first time you’d asked him to hang out since dating Mike. He couldn’t fight the smile that grew on his face. “Just you and me or Nick and Chris too,” he needed to sound casual, but he was kicking himself for even mentioning Nick and Chris. What if you said yes to inviting them and his time alone with you turned into a group hangout?

“Up to you, I was hoping for it just to be us,” you reply, picking a shirt off the rack. You examine it carefully as you try imagining yourself in it. You decide you don’t like it and put it back. Matt is doing a silent happy dance on the other side of the phone, he feels like this is his chance to tell you the truth. Plus, you don’t seem to be upset with Mike which means that the conversation probably won’t revolve entirely around that loser.

Matt calms himself down, taking a deep breath before replying, “Cool yeah. Should I meet you somewhere?” He’s trying to act casual, but there is no such thing as casual for Matt when it involves you. “You can. Or I can pick you up?” You reply, walking out of the store and to your car. You walk the street cautiously, thanking the people who let you pass with a small hand wave. For you, this conversation really was normal. Just a friend asking another friend to go out to lunch.

For Matt, this conversation felt like the beginning of something new. A new relationship with you, a new attempt at admitting his feelings, even a new outlook on life. He felt positive. “Yeah that works. Are you close?” He has the biggest smile on his face as he looks through his closet for the perfect outfit.

“I’m like 10 minutes away,” you say mindlessly, pausing as you dig through your purse for your keys. “I’ll let you know when I’m there, okay? Love you, friend,” you finished saying once you found your keys and unlocking your car.

There was that word again. Friend. It made Matt shudder, but he tries ignoring it. He wasn’t going to let that sour his mood. “Alright, bye. Love you too,” he replies, but he means it. He intentionally doesn’t call you friend in hopes that you’ll take the hint.

All you do is hum in response and hang up. It breaks Matt’s heart, but he ignores it.

—

You pick Matt up, arriving to his house exactly 10 minutes later. The two of you decide on a restaurant, engaging in light conversation throughout your meal. Matt couldn’t find the courage to confess to you, especially not with the thought of Mike looming over him.

Matt felt incredibly anxious, his mind racing uncontrollably with all the possible outcomes of tonight. He could confess and it could go one of two ways, you could feel the same or you could reject him for Mike like all the times before. Or he could keep it to himself and remain in the friendzone forever.

The two of you are now walking back to your car, ready to call it a night. “Thanks for coming out with me,” you say with a smile as you hop into the drivers seat. Matt follows suit, getting into the passenger side before replying, “of course, anything for you.” The comment was simple, but it had so many underlying messages that he wished you’d pick up on. ‘Anything for you.’

You seem to pick up some sort of message because you reply with a chuckle, “you’re always saying sappy stuff like that Matt.” He gulps nervously, was this his chance? You start the car, the radio playing dully in the background. The noise replaces the previous silence, only adding to his own frustration, especially because he hated this song. He couldn’t decide whether to do it or not.

“I hate this song,” you mumble, changing the station to another song quickly. He takes this as a sign, a sign to just bite the bullet and spill it all. He needs to start off slow though, if he’s too abrasive it’ll scare you, “so, how are you and Mike doing?”

You two hadn’t spoken about Mike the entire night and for good reason too. The night you got back from the arcade he made a bunch of empty promises, adding in a bunch of fake apologies in between. You, of course, ended up forgiving him only for him to mess up again the next day. So, you decided you were finally done with him and broke up with him for good. Usually when you two would break up you’d allow him back into your life within hours, but this time you blocked him on everything and forced him to move out. Today was your first day as a truly single woman and it felt like a breath of fresh air. You were repulsed by men and decided you were going to be single for a while.

“We broke up actually,” you say calmly, making a long story short. Matt knew all the details of your previous arguments with Mike so there was no point in explaining the obvious. He’s in shock, actually in shock. This is the first time you’ve ‘broken’ up with Mike and weren’t completely hysterical about it.

“When did this happen?!”

You turn the corner onto Matt’s street, nearing his house slowly. “Yesterday morning. I kicked him out and he’s coming for the rest of his stuff tomorrow,” you say like it was the most normal thing ever. How were you so calm? So casual?

Mike moving out was the best news ever, that means that it’s real this time. “Wow. How are you?” he asks. He needs to test the waters before diving head first, especially if he’s going to confess something so important.

“I’m okay. Honestly, I’m not as sad as I thought I’d be. I’m just ready to be single,” you reply, placing the car in park in front of his house. He digests the information, trying to come to terms with the fact that you want to be single. “Right now I’m repulsed at the thought of men. I’m just so done crying over guys, you know? I’m ready to just hang out with my friends and be free.”

“I’m a man. Are you repulsed at the thought of me?” Matt asks in an attempt to make light of the information you just dumped on him. He’s trying not to freak out right now. “No, dude! I mean like men that I’d date. You’re my best friend, it’s different,” you reply, the words cutting into Matt. Everything you just said felt like an insult.

The car is filled with an awkward silence, neither of you know what to say after that. The same song from earlier plays, the song you hate and suddenly it feels more like a bad omen to Matt. You cough in an attempt to break the tension, but Matt remains silent, he feels like he can’t breathe right now.

“Well I had fun today, Matt,” you finally say, unlocking the car so he can use it as an excuse to escape this situation. You don’t know why the conversation suddenly became so awkward, all you know is that this felt weird and you didn’t want to sit in it for longer than you had to.

“Me too,” he replies meekly, struggling to unbuckle himself. “Here let me help,” you offer, reaching towards his seat to help him with the buckle. It all becomes too much as he pushes your hand away, “stop. I got it.” You look at him in shock. What was his problem?

Before you can comment on his behavior, he opens the car door and stumbles out. He can’t seem to leave this situation fast enough. You watch in confusion as he walks into his house without another word. You are worried, but decide he’s just being dramatic and drive off.

Once he’s inside he feels the emotions intensify as he immediately collapses onto the floor. He’s out of breath and his head is ringing with the words you said, ‘No dude! I mean like men that I’d date. You’re my best friend, it’s different.’ He’s hyperventilating at this point, the tears flowing uncontrollably down his face as heaves in an attempt to catch his breath.

Nick and Chris who were in the living room hear this and immediately bolt towards Matt. “Matt? What’s wrong?” Chris asks frantically, getting on his knees to be eye level with his brother. Matt doesn’t respond, instead he grabs onto his Chris and pulls him in for a hug and sobs into his shoulder. He’s desperate for comfort, but nothing seems like enough. Chris understands what his brother needs, holding him tightly in an attempt to console him.

“He’s having a panic attack, let’s take him to his room,” Nick says equally as frantic, squatting in front of his two brothers so he can rub Matt’s back. Chris and Nick attempt to pick Matt up, but he’s glued to the floor, still holding on to Chris for dear life.

“It’s okay buddy, I got you,” Chris says calmly, not wanting to escalate the situation any further. Matt continues to cry, allowing his brothers to comfort him. “Deep breaths, Matt. Deep breaths,” Chris instructs, pulling Matt off of him slightly so he can get it together. Matt nods his head, using all his will power to stop crying and focus on his breathing. Finally, he’s able to calm down and his sobbing is reduced to sniffles.

“Wanna talk about it?” Nick asks lovingly, sitting next to Matt on the floor and rubbing more circles onto his back. “No,” Matt replies, his voice hoarse from all the crying. He looks down at his hands and plays with his rings to occupy his mind. “That’s okay, we’re here for you when you’re ready,” Chris chimes in, taking a seat on the other side of Matt. He rests his head on Matt’s shoulder, patting his thigh to signify that he’s willing to sit here with him for as long as necessary.

“Thanks,” Matt replies sadly, resting his head against the wall behind him. He’s never felt as defeated as he does right now. He’s stuck in the friendzone again and again.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Honestly such a great request, but I had to keep re-listening to the song to write a story as accurate as possible to it. That’s why there’s no happy ending because the song clearly states that he’s stuck in the friendzone again and again, but I’m willing to do a pt.2 with a happy ending or just a diff outcome. Hope you enjoy.

Also, I’ll be expecting the foot

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗