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nudijsmos · 2 months
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𝑓𝑤𝑏! bangchan — anything he could do (𝗶 𝗱𝗼 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿)
summary: after another fight with your boyfriend hyunjin, your best friend decided to cheer you up by buying some drinks. little did you know that after that you'd forget everything about your relationship and become christopher's little doll.
word count: 5.2 k
note: english is not my first language so expect the nastiest shit on this fic & also this is a collab with my dear @doestalker, i hope y'all enjoy it!.
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maybe talking to your best friend about the failed moments of your relationship is not such a bad idea, but you have seen each other in the worst conditions before. nothing bad could happen.
or well, that could be debated.
for months you have been debating or rather questioning your relationship with hyunjin, who happens to be friends with the guy in front of you, bangchan. maybe this is something that all couples go through, maybe this boredom is normal between months of any relationship.
as always after an argument with hyunjin, your fingers typed the number of your best friend, who – having a hunch of what was happening – was quick to answer and invite you to his apartment. your eyes wandered around the blonde’s room, feeling your body tremble as you didn’t know how to start telling him everything that’d happened between you.
“tell me that at least this time he didn’t stood you up on another date, that would be regrettable and too much, even for you,” exclaimed the man, leaning his back against the wall, watching you from head to toe. deep within him he begged that you’d already thrown away that little boy you had as a boyfriend. he groaned when you gave him a knowing look, confirming his assumptions.
it's not that bangchan hated hyunjin, in fact, he was one of his closest friends. it's just that he knew what he was like in relationships, and given that he's had a crush on you since practically the beginning of his friendship with you, it was almost impossible for him not to react in a sarcastic and to some extent malicious way to their relationship.
he felt no modesty within himself, happy to see your relationship crumble upon his eyes. he felt sorry for the way your eyes appreciated hwang, but he longed for the chains of that bond to be broken all at once.
call him selfish, a bad person, a madman, but he wanted you to belong only to him.
“it’s just that i’m so tired, we weren’t like this at the beginning, remember? we were so happy and we were so in love... now i can’t remember a single moment where we’re not arguing.”
bangchan places his arm on the back of the sofa, behind you, putting on his best expression of concern and pretending to empathize by recalling those moments when you were genuinely happy with his friend. he swallowed to disguise the bitterness that went up his throat, and then cleared his throat.
“ah, yes, the good times where you were glued by the hip. but babe, let’s face it, isn’t it too naive of you to think that everything was going to go the way it did when you started dating? relationships change, just like people... sometimes for bad,” he said the last part through gritted teeth, so that you wouldn’t hear it.
you let out a bitter laugh even though you didn’t find any humour on his statement, staring at the floor and running your fingers through your hair as you listened to your best friend's opinion.
“yeah, i know. it’s not the same anymore, it’s just that i can’t help but hold on to the idea that at some point everything will go back to how it used to be,” you turned to look into his eyes, frowning, a glimmer of hope burning inside your chest.
“look, darling, i don’t know what happened between the two of you, but knowing how stupid hyunjin can be, i’m sure it’s nothing new of him to act like that with you.” the man murmured, squatting now, taking your hands out of your own hair and taking them between his. this closeness between you was normal, yet the air felt heavy having him so close to you.
“i have a better idea, there’s a store near here. we have to get drunk and watch a movie, like in the old days,” he added with a smile. “no more hyunjin, now it’s you and me, and i want to please you after he made you feel like you were worth no more than a couple of minutes on a painful date.”
(...)
the streetlights were casting a warm glow on the pavement, the evening between both of you felt like a sweet summer night in the middle of this boring autumn, laughing all the way down to the convenience store. as you entered the establishment, bangchan's hand grazed the small of your back, sending a shiver down your spine. "what are you in the mood for?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "i'm thinking of something strong to cool you off tonight."
you couldn't help but notice the way his gaze lingered on you, and you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. bangchan had always been a flirt, but there was something about the way he was looking at you tonight that made your heart flutter.
"how about some beer and chips?" you suggested, your voice barely above a whisper. bangchan grinned, his dimples on full display.
"excellent choice," he said, his hand brushing against yours as he reached for the fridge door. the casual touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you found yourself leaning in a little closer to him, making him chuckle at the sight of seeing you near him in that way.
as you made your way to the checkout, bangchan kept up a steady stream of playful banter, his eyes never leaving your face. you couldn't help but feel a little giddy, the weight of your earlier argument with your boyfriend momentarily forgotten.
"you know, I'm always here for you," bangchan said softly, his hand brushing against yours as he handed you his change. "anytime you need a friend, or a shoulder to lean on, i'm just a phone call away."
you looked up at him, your heart swelling with gratitude and a hint of something more. "thank you, chris," you murmured. "i don't know what i'd do without you."
bangchan's smile widened, and he gently squeezed your hand. "that's what friends are for," he said, his voice low and warm as he grabbed you by your waist, letting him try to get a little closer to you while he was talking, almost like a whisper hitting your ear. as you walked back to his apartment, you couldn't help but feel a little lighter, your heart filled with the knowledge that you had someone like bangchan in your life.
when both of you were already in the blonde’s kitchen, you two proceeded to pour the beer on your respective pints, the closeness seemed to be palpable in the air, almost completely forgetting why you came to your best friend’s house. the argument with hyunjin was no longer the only thing on your mind, and bangchan noticed it. you drank there in his kitchen, the both of you leaning against the kitchen aisle while sipping the beer and eating the chips.
the alcohol took control of your body very quickly with every drop that slipped down your throat, that feeling of sadness for the previous situation was already one of the last things that went through your mind. whereas from the blonde’s point of view he was just dying internally to find the right moment to get to touch you again, sink into your sweet aroma.
“you know.” you muttered in a drunken tone, tripping over your own words. “i don’t even know why i’m suffering for him, he didn’t even know how to satisfy me...” your mind was no longer filtering out the words coming out of your mouth, if you weren’t so drunk you’d be dying of shame for your boldness and the excess of information you were releasing.
“is that so?” asked bangchan, his tone almost mocking. the edges of his lips rising and his expression was of satisfaction at hearing the first criticism of hyunjin coming from you, almost relieved that there weren’t only positive or melancholic opinions of his friend. “in what sense?” he feigned a tone of confusion, doing his best to look innocent. it was clear that he knew what you were talking about, he felt like he wanted to jump over the walls. finally! something hyunjin wasn’t good at.
“you know...” you mumble, feeling blood pooling on your cheeks, unable to find the right words so as not to sound desperate.
“no, doll, i don’t know,” he laughed, squinting his eyes and wrinkling his nose because of the flustered expression you had. he rolled his lips and looked at you from top to bottom, stepped forward and took your chin between his fingers, forcing eye contact with his dark orbs. “use your words, babbling will not make me understand you.”
the elder’s voice echoed through your ears, penetrating your brain and making that blush that was already resting on your cheeks more and more noticeable. the kitchen air began to overwhelm you, your breath was cut short by the soft grip of your chin.
“in the two years of my relationship with him i could never..” you were afraid to continue the sentence, but your friend’s orbs penetrated your soul like a sword and you felt like it was now or never, so you sighed. “he never made me finish, i faked my orgasms for months to not hurt his ego.”
bangchan was surprised by that answer. he thought you were talking about his friend’s tiny dick, not that the idiot hadn't been able to give you an orgasm in general.
a mischievous laugh breaks out from his lips, those you glance from time to time without modesty or shame, those pouty lips who surely tasted of beer and salt.
“that’s awful, i would be sorry if my own girlfriend said that about me,” he replied in a mocking tone, letting go of your chin and heading to the kitchen table, resting his forearms against the edge of the furniture as he adjusted his posture without taking his eyes off you, which he knew made you nervous.
“does the great christopher bang know more about pleasure?” you asked jokingly, pretending not to be affected by the way his arms flexed in front of you, you didn’t know where this courage came from.
that’s a lie, you did know.
“oh doll, i don’t think you want to go there,” he murmured, his tone of voice deep and almost stifling. he had his gaze fixed on you, his eyes had a subtle gleam that you couldn’t tell if it was alcohol or mockery from seeing how nervous you were. the boy couldn’t help but enjoy the effect he was having on you.
this time it was you who stepped forward, staying a short distance from the boy, your eyes denoted an innocent glow, like a puppy begging for the attention of its owner and that made the older one salivate. you looked so immersed in that game of not-so-subtle glances, so vulgar that without saying anything they confessed everything.
“give me a reason to listen to you, christopher.” you mused with a mocking smile, defying almost the highest.
oh.
oh. that’s what he’s wanted to hear since you set foot in his house. bangchan can’t help but smile at your defiant expression, leaning closer to you, his face just inches from yours.
“a reason?” he asks mockingly. his eyes run through your body, analyzing every curve in detail. he was enjoying too much of this little game you were having, but the palpable tension you had been building up for quite some time was making him a little desperate. “how about this – i guarantee you i can give you more pleasure in five minutes than hyunjin in a year of dating.” his beer-breath invaded your nostrils, something you normally hated when hyunjin drank with his friends now became incredibly attractive coming from your friend. you were ashamed to admit that his words had caused your panties to dampen. “let me show you, doll.”
you just nod and flutter your lips open, the overwhelming heat you felt right now had made you a little dizzy, your eyes traveled to bangchan’s smile, still present and still mocking, almost evil. “okay, prove it,” you whispered.
bangchan's eyes widened, excited. “with pleasure,” he replies, leaning close to your ear, his rawest voice. “only i have one condition.”
when he leaned back enough for you to see him in the eyes, you frowned, confused. “and what would that condition be?”
bangchan flashed you a smile, like a mischievous cat who just cornered his prey. “you will do everything i say. no buts, no protests. you think you can handle that, princess?”
to say that you were stunned would be an understatement. that touch of dominance that unleashed in the elder’s personality was stronger than any drink you had consumed that same night, again you just nodded without even being able to form a coherent response as your friend’s veiny hand caught your neck and guided you towards his lips, devouring you without any warning.
the taste of beer clouded your mind at every movement of his mouth, feeling your legs falter as you let that man handle your body as if you were just a doll.
it was no longer just his mouth tasting yours, your lips parting in a gasp allows the damp tongue of the taller man to enter your mouth like an intruder to those lips that once belonged to his best friend.
the hand placed on your neck generated a certain pressure that made it difficult to keep pace with that kiss, the so sure grip of those long digits made you see stars. what would it be like to have him fuck you like an animal?
bangchan was in control, and he was enjoying every second of it. he devoured your lips like a starved man, his tongue possesively exploring every inch of your warm mouth. every movement, every breath, every sound you made served only to feed his own desire. as he continued to kiss you, he pushed and turned around your body until you were trapped between the table and his hard torso, his grip on your neck tightening, while his free hand began to venture across your body, groping you lasciviously. he growled like an animal at the little groan that let go of your throat as his hand kneaded one of your breasts.
“do you like that, babe?” he asked, his voice so deep it sounded guttural, his fingers still kneading and playing with your chest, causing more soft groans to escape from your lips. he could feel the way you melted under his touch, and that only made him more desperate to ruin you. his index finger hooked the neckline of your top, lowering it along with the cups of your bra, leaving your chest exposed.
the coldness of the room and the warmth of your body left little to the imagination of the hungry young man, your gasps and the erectness of your nipples no doubt caused christopher to lose what little sanity he had in him. well, if there was any of that left.
the large arms of the opposite managed to raise your body weight so that now your figure will be prostrated on the table. in an attempt to seem more provocative you were slowly opening your legs, almost torturing the blonde who was just letting out curses at such a sight. “use me, christopher.” you muttered in your broken voice, getting rid of any possible regrets in your head.
“use me, break me. i don’t want you to leave any trace of hyunjin inside me.”
a grunt was the answer you received and suddenly the man’s lips surrounded your nipples, biting, licking and pulling them until they turned a pinkish hue, so sensitive to the simple rubbing of the older man’s dry and uneducated boneless bone. your underwear began to feel more and more annoying. the tenacity of the movements of his tongue made your sight go blank, babbling over and over again the name of your best friend.
“poor little girl, you see, that son of a bitch never knew how to take advantage of you.” take advantage? oh no.. more than that, your boyfriend had no idea how to handle your body. the boy's hands gripped your breasts in such a way that they formed a heart, releasing them only to slap them shamelessly. you whined.
“now you’re mine, you have no idea how good i’m going to abuse your pussy, my little doll.”
“please, chris,” you moaned, squeezing his biceps hard, almost nailing his fingernails in despair. “i’m- please-”
he exhaled a laugh at the mess of groans and whines that you were under his touch, and he hadn't even touched your pussy yet. “who would have said that behind that innocent facade you were such a spoiled brat? i’m not surprised that hyunjin couldn’t handle you, it takes a man to handle little sluts like you,” he spat against your cheek, lowering his hand down your skirt, there he slipped his hand between your underwear already ruined by your juices. “damn, you feel how wet you are for me?” he laughed excitedly, as if he were a child who just got a new toy for christmas.
“poor princess, so long without being satisfied as she deserves,” his lips formed a little pout, while his fingers ran through your lips, smearing them with your juices before carefully inserting one, he didn’t want to break you... yet. “i’m going to make all that time worth it,” he promised, leaving you with a chaste kiss on the cheek while inserting another finger without warning.
you let out a guttural groan, opening your eyes wide open as you felt the sweet burn of his fingers stretching your tight walls, you had to bite your lower lip so as not to lose your composure and crumble between his strong arms. you tilted your head so you could see him in the eyes, your brow frowning with pleasure at the scissor movements he made to speed up your preparation. he looked at you with a mocking smile and an arched eyebrow, feigning confusion at your reactions, as if he wasn’t caressing your g-spot with his long fingers.
“what’s wrong, princess?” he asked. he wouldn’t let you answer because the next thing he did was lean against the table, lowering his arm around your waist so he could play with your clit while inserting a third finger. you already felt your legs tremble, you didn’t think you could hold up much longer like that, it was hard to believe that you already felt the knot of your first orgasm forming so quickly.
“look at you, i’m feeling so sorry for how pathetic you look right now. " he murmured once more to your ear, another chill running down your spine was present by the dominant tone that crashed against your skin," he said. “your pussy is made just for me... just look at how it takes my fingers.”
christopher’s voice echoed throughout the room, the constant splashes of the blond’s phalanx penetrating into your poor, abused walls was the ecstasy you had longed to have for months. his middle finger bent inside you, hitting that sweet spot of yours that could make you see stars and collapse in front of him.
“ah! chris!” you squealed, holding tightly the wrist of his hand inside you.
“what’s the matter, doll? are you gonna cum? already?” he laughed mischievously, mocking your precocity and despair. “go ahead, baby, cum f’me.”
you sucked air through your nose as the spasms began to hit your body like waves, little tears fell down your pink cheeks. there was no longer a drop of guilt inside you, you just felt relief to achieve an orgasm that was not on your own in a long time.
bangchan let out an excited laugh, his eyes wrinkled to the sides at the sight of his hand soaked in your juices. he brought his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers as he stared at you, you watched his eyes roll back and heard him groan as he tasted you.
“c’mon, babe, let’s take this to my bedroom. i’m gonna make you cum three times today, the first one was with my fingers. then, i’m gonna use my tongue and my cock to make you squirt as many times as i want.”
(...)
“open your legs for me, baby, if you close them I’m not gonna finish anything.” he said, smirking at the obscene sight he had of you. the dim light reflecting on your skin left him desiring more of you, he needed you, he craved you like a predator about to devour his innocent prey. his hands were roaming your skin, slowly almost like he tried to torture you.
his shirt was stripped off somewhere in the room allowing your imagination to fly before the perfect landscape of your best friend's strong body. well, better said your lover.
his body weight leaned over you, his gaze nailed to your teary orbs, lowering his right palm to your weeping cunt, letting his fingers make their way to your clit once again. a loud slap made a presence on his mannerism, his hand pressing again and again on your pussy.
“oh god, christopher-” you said.
“i know, doll. use your words for me. tell me how good does that feels.” he responded, biting his lower lip and leaning closer to you, his body slowly lowered to its knees, letting out several sighs that crashed against the folds of your cunt. a path of wet and lewd kisses went through one of your thighs, receiving bites that would surely leave some mark on your skin.
god, he was gonna kill you.
you were going to protest because of how little contact the opposite was having with you, yet you felt the wet, hot mouth of the blonde hugging and sucking your clit, placing both hands on the sides of your waist to hold you in place. his lips rubbed your folds in the company of that wet muscle making you to see the stars in the front row, his tongue laps on your cunt like a fucking desperate dog.
he was eating you out, feeling so drunk by your taste. he did not waste any time, spitting on your clit before wrapping his lips around it once again, tongue immediately caressing your sensitive bud. he couldn’t decide between roughly sucking on the poor thing or moving his tongue side to side.
the squirting of the older man's mouth against your pussy was so disgusting and obscene, you knew perfectly well that your juices would be overflowing under his chin. “s’good right ?.” chris slurred into your pussy, now sloppily kissing his way down to your dripping hole.
his hands were so tight on your thighs that you felt helpless and useless, without any method of escape from it, merely grasping the boy’s sheets with your fists as you undid your broken voice repeating his name in whining cries of pleasure.
his big nose slammed against your clit, giving you another annoying and torturing wave of pleasure that swept all over your lower abdomen. you were again beginning to feel that tingling in your lower abdomen, releasing the sheets to grasp without any shame the blonde’s hair, tangling your fingers between the curls of his hair, pulling these with little force but being enough for the young man to devour your core as if it were an animal, a depraved who just wanted to get drunk with the sour taste of your fluids.
"damn doll, you taste divine." the man whispers in between his moist kisses, spitting once more on the fluelle of your intimacy. " cum for me, little one." without warning his tongue made its way into your entrance, slamming against your walls.
"oh god, oh god. you fucking- ngh!." you cried, feeling how your legs lost their footing against the elder’s bed once more. chris moaned just as loud when he felt your cum began to coat his tongue in little waves.
“what a good little slut you are, so fucking good.” this time the boy took his time to clean with his tongue the remains that you had along your thighs, licking and sucking every place. however, something caught both of you by surprise.
it was your phone ringing, right on the floor where you tossed it before bangchan pushed you onto his bed. you both glanced at it, and a cold sweat ran through your body when you saw hyunjin calling you.
“answer him.” said bangchan without further ado.
your eyes went wide open again by the boy’s comment. what? no, you shouldn’t answer it. he shouldn’t know what was going on between you and his best friend. "do i have to repeat myself again, whore? answer the fucking phone."
you were fucked up, so fucked up.
"hello.." was heard on the other side of the line. it was his voice, smooth as always. " i didn’t know if you were gonna answer me or not, but i wanted to talk to you. i’m sorry, okay? i really didn’t want you to be mad because i didn’t go on our date.." he continued, yet you could not concentrate because you were having your friend’s cock rubbing and teasing against your hole so sharply that it was impossible for you to formulate a coherent answer.
"don’t worry h-hyunjin, i just... oh god." you released a gasp that saturated the mic of your phone, tilting your neck to the side while your teeth caught your lower lip in an attempt to silence your groans.
"is everything alright? you sound agitated, love."
that was the point of decline for the blonde, entering you without any warning, making you lose your sanity and shame left in your system. he quickly took the phone from your hand, placing it between his ear and shoulder.
“sorry mate, she’s busy right now.” he chuckled at himself, pulling you by your waist once again, feeling him more deeper than before. he was big, you felt instantly full by his size. “you should’ve treated her better bro, you ‘ave no idea how pretty she looks taking my dick right now.”
“what the fuck, bangchan!?”. hyunjin spits. “pass her the phone bro, i don’t have time for your jokes.” your groans came to light when christopher began to thrust into you, brutally abusing your cunt without even caring if your boyfriend was from the opposite side of the line.
the wet slaps, the moans and the sighs saturating the mic proved that it was no joke. he fucked into you roughly and you would describe his expression as gleeful, because when hyunjin started to yell at him he just giggled.
“WHAT THE FUCK!?” yelled hyunjin, so loud you could hear it from your position. “please tell me you’re joking, you sick fuck.”
your bestfriend pulled out and you whined from the emptiness, he just slapped your thigh, commanding you to turn around on all fours.
“oh, does this look like a joke to you?” questioned christopher, putting the phone on video call and turning the camera around to focus it on your plump cheeks slapping against his muscular thighs, he could see through the phone how his cock disappeared into your sopping cunt. god, he almost wished he was recording you instead of letting hyunjin see that ass getting pounded.
“CHRISTOPHER ARE YOU SERIOUS!? HOW COULD YOU!?” hyunjin was so angry that if chris looked closely he could see the smoke coming out of his ears. he just laughed, spanking your ass at the same time.
“you snooze, you loose, bro,” giggled bangchan.
hwang began cursing the both of you, calling you names, wishing the worst to bangchan, you weren’t able to see his expression - oh, how you wish you could - but he sounded at the verge of a mental breakdown. and, you know? you didn’t care. his loss. you were getting the fucking of your life by such the sexiest man you could think of.
your phone dropped, both of his hands were groping the sides of your waist again while his massive cock was pounding your guts, making your eyes roll back by the feeling of him using you just like a ragdoll. “that’s it baby, milk my fucking cock so well— feels so good, doesn’t it?”
you felt unable to formulate any kind of response as you felt his member coming in and out of you, almost ripping your cunt apart. your whines and gasps were like music for the elder, the way your pussy was taking his dick was driving him crazy. he noticed how the phone’s screen went black, clearly hyunjin had ended the call. what a fucking loser, he thought to himself as he watched how your hole was clenching around the base of his cock.
“does this cock make you go dumb, doll?.” he presses down with one of his hands the bulge his cock makes in your belly, causing the both of you to keen, your little dripping pussy fluttering around his cock as he twitches inside of you.
“c-christopher, i’m.. oh god!” you moaned so loudly, almost screaming his name as the third orgasm was approaching. “fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“aww, my baby’s gettin’ tired?” he mocks you, smirking at you, still guiding your movements on his cock with the help of his hands on your hips. “thought you liked fuckin’ yourself on your best friend’s cock. you’re a spoiled little slut, aren’t you?” you nodded not being able to answer him again, feeling the tears running down from your cheeks while trying to face him while he railed you, biting your lower lip.
“please chris, i wanna come sooo badly. please, please, pretty please, i cannot handle it any more.” your voice sounded so submissive, begging him to release you. your cunt was swollen at this point and your legs were unable to pick up his pace. your eyes went white when he suddenly grabbed your hair, pulling it back and facing one side of your face as he leaned near your ear.
the man’s pelvis rocked against your ass roughly to make your arch your back searching for more contact, more pleasure, more of chris’ insane sex appeal.
“is that so baby? you want me to fill you up? breed you full?”. you shut your eyes as you allowed your orgasm to come, giving in the white heat just by hearing him slut the shit out of you, squirting over his cock while pounding your insides, slapping your ass with his bare hand. “there you go, my little cocksleeve.”
his cum flooded your walls, drawing you back to his pelvis while his lips released the most sensual sighs and grunts you've ever heard in your life. when he pulled his dick out of your sloppy and wet cunt, his cum was dripping out of your hole, long rows of his essence falling down your folds as you tried to regain consciousness after that man fucked you silly.
“pretty little pussy, all fuckin’ mine, yeah? my fuckhole.” he growled, voice raw from all that moaning, while picking up some cum from your folds with a finger and fingering you with it, you whined, sensitive and overstimulated. he was right, you were his, his girl, his doll, his slut. you no longer belonged to the black-haired young man you used to call ‘your boyfriend’. now you were his, you were christopher bang's doll.
you’ve always been, you just didn’t realize it yet.
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arrogantb0y · 2 months
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[better off as lovers]
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yrpalmalikamain · 1 year
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"when a/c will have their first time, they-" wdym by that? they been fucking since eden
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kaylaforfun · 11 months
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I'm horny anyone available
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crazywolf828 · 2 years
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Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/F
Fandom: RWBY
Relationship: Ilia Amitola/Yang Xiao Long
Characters: Ilia Amitola, Yang Xiao Long, Blake Belladonna
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Smut, Friends With Benefits, Enthusiastic Consent, Kink Negotiation, Aftercare, Cunnilingus, Grinding, Strap-Ons, Hand & Finger Kink, Wax Play, Choking, But make it all soft and loving, Mutual Pining, Denial of Feelings, Very Minor Newspaper, Blake is a menace, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings
Summary:
It all started, in Ilia's opinion, in the dumbest way, spin the bottle.
Thanks to Sun, they're playing spin the bottle. Well it started that way at least, the more alcohol they drank the less innocent it became, shifting into seven minutes in heaven.
That's where this whole mess starts, with the twirl of an empty glass bottle, slowing until it lands on a grinning Yang. She looks good, she always looks good, but right now her eyes are dark, lips a little red thanks to a kiss with Weiss that was a touch too intimate.
If there's one thing about Yang, it's that she always gives a hundred percent.
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minhancofan91 · 1 year
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damn i f luv portugal
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lindwurmkai · 1 year
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Honestly I annoy myself by having turned from someone who was almost completely asexual but very interested in romance into someone who is no longer asexual but almost completely aro, including more and more frequent romance repulsion. Hello??
Sure it's fun to explore this new perspective but I would like to still be able to enjoy romantic posts about my ships instead of being like "ugh no thanks" 80% of the time???
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back2bluesidex · 1 month
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Slide - MYG (18+)
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Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader 
Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?
Word count: 2k+
Summary: 
"I can see the pain in your eyes I don't wanna say that I'm God, but I'll take you to heaven if you die"  
Alternatively, 
You would go back in time and fall in love with Yoongi over and over and over again even after knowing that he would never once be yours in any of the timeline.
Warnings: implied smut, explicit smut, emotional sex, very sad (don't underestimate the angst huhu), depressed yoongi, reader is pining so hard lord!, creampie, unplanned pregnancy, NSFW!!
Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics
Minors do not interact!!
Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon
A/N: Lemme know if you want a part 2? (even though I already know the answer hehe).
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Arrangement.
You would rather call it an arrangement - the thing that is going on between you and Yoongi. Anything you have been feeling for him, outside your usual practice, is your, solely your decision or more likely… fault. 
Hence, it’s a given. A given that you shouldn’t feel your heart dropping to your stomach, crashing on whatever is available inside your body and shattering into a thousand pieces, when you find Gyuri walking inside the room. 
Beside you, Yoongi tenses. His body goes rigid as the air inside the room thickens beyond repair. And all of a sudden you can’t breathe. 
Now you understand why Namjoon has been avoiding to reveal the name of the artist all along.
Lee Gyuri - One of the most successful solo artist as well as Min Yoongi’s one true love, who had left him broken so bad that you once found him on the street, unconscious, vomit all over his clothes - is now back in his life… in your life, which has been revolving around him. 
Where she left - You started. 
You picked Yoongi up, put him into pieces, not that you were able to heal the cracks but you at least conjoined it all together. 
And just like that - one night after a long heart to heart talk and a few beers, you found him seethed deep inside you. Yoongi chanted your name again and again as if it’s a mantra that will heal the cracks of his heart all while he rutted in you like a mad man. 
It started from there - the arrangement. 
At the end of long days and even longer nights, whenever both of you were too exhausted to go home, you spent the nights crammed together on Yoongi’s studio couch. 
Quiet whispers, curse words, wandering hands, secret body parts slick with arousal - everything had made your existence dwindle dangerously through his fingers. 
Yoongi always fell asleep right after but you stayed awake, tracing the slope of his nose, bow of his lips, map of his pale skin glinting in the dark. 
You had made a mistake. 
You fell in love.
Now as Gyuri slides inside the room with natural elegance, you hear Yoongi’s breathing getting quicker in pace. 
He is anxious. 
You place a hand on his knees, under the table. It’s a practiced habit that you adopted over time. Your fingertips help to calm him down. 
Everything is the same. 
Except this time, Yoongi doesn’t relax under your touch. 
“Yoongi, can we talk for a moment?” Gyuri requests with a timid voice at the end of the meeting. Her eyes quickly lock with yours for a fraction of a second. 
You half expect for Yoongi to say no. You pray to the universe for his answer to come as negative even when you know –
“Yes. Sure.” 
That Yoongi never stopped loving her for a moment. Yoongi loved, loves and will love only one woman - and that’s not you. 
Even though you don’t feel your legs anymore, you stand up. You choose to take the stairs to exhaust your body so that your sadness can be masked. 
But even as you climb down floors after floors - your heart stays confined in that room locked with two lovers. 
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“She said she wants to work it out this time. She has been missing me terribly... she said.” Yoongi doesn’t look away from the blaring computer screen. 
He probably doesn’t have the heart of looking into your eyes. 
Somewhere he, too, knows of the deepest secrets you have been hiding from him. 
“And? What did you say?” You chew on the inside of your mouth, again praying for him to answer something of your liking. 
“That I will think about it.” you knew he would say that. 
“What is there to think about, Yoongi? You still love her.” you force the words out of your mouth even when your throat closes up. 
Tears threaten to spill from the corner of your eyes but you blink those away.
Yoongi finally looks at you, his own eyes glinting with moisture. 
“But what about you?” The question is rhetorical - metaphorical. 
“Me? I will go back to where I started from.” you lie, heart threatening to leap out of your chest. 
You would go back, but not where you started from, you would go back to the night when you picked Yoongi up from the street.
In simpler terms, you would go back in time and fall in love with Yoongi over and over and over again even after knowing that he would never once be yours in any of the timelines. 
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You squeeze your eyes shut tight, pretending not to hear anything at all. 
Even though you have to summon all of your willpower to do so - you stay still in your bed. 
Your tears though - keep falling, rolling down the apple of your cheeks and making a small puddle inside the curve of your ear. 
He keeps rambling on the door. 
Sometimes the knocks are steady, sometimes infused with anger but his voice stays low. You wouldn’t hear him calling your name if you weren’t attentive enough.
“Y/N! Please open the door.” Yoongi requests again. Through the wood of your door it sounds like a whisper, “Please. I- I want to see you once.” 
Every pore of your body woozes out the desire of letting him in, taking him inside your arms and never ever letting him go. 
But you are afraid. 
He has never once visited you by his own will. 
He only tagged along when you asked him to. 
So you are afraid. 
Afraid of what he might say. Afraid that he might say what you don’t want to hear. You already know everything - know enough - if he points it out now that he is going to leave you behind as the love of his life is back then you might as well break down, which you definitely don’t want to do. 
You have always appeared to be nonchalant before Yoongi about this arrangement, about his kisses, his marks, his simple ignorance - and you want it to stay that way. 
However, your resolve breaks when you hear a sob, muffled by the door. 
Is he crying? Why? Why is he crying at your door? 
So you get up, pad towards the door and swing it open. 
Yoongi’s head shoots up and you look at his face. 
He is a mess - a mess that you love. 
With dark hair all disheveled, face smeared with tears, lips chapped, Yoongi says, “I am here to end things.” 
This. You were afraid of this. 
Your insides churn and mold into a ball of nothingness. There are words sitting on the tip of your tongue but you choose to stay silent as always.
“Okay.” you reply, holding the door knob again ready to shut it on his beautiful face for once and for all. 
Yoongi forces his hand at the edge of the door, preventing you from closing it. 
He steps inside your apartment and within a few moments, you are being pushed to the door, closing it with the force of your back. 
Yoongi kisses you with everything he has left inside. You kiss him back. 
You don’t know what is happening but if this is for one last time, then you will accept it. 
Your hands wrap around his neck on their own accord. His chapped lips mold perfectly with your moisturized pair. 
They move in perfect sync, perfect rhythm - the rhythm of destruction. 
“Y/N” Yoongi whispers in between the kiss, “I am sorry.” 
You don’t pay his words any mind, rather you let your fingers get lost in his long dark hair. 
The kiss grows hungrier by every second you spend in each other’s hold. 
Yoongi starts directing you towards your bedroom and your small apartment space takes no time to be crossed. 
You soon feel the edge of your bed behind your knees. 
When you fall back - Yoongi falls with you. 
He looks into your eyes, his own eyes telling a thousand different stories all together. But tonight, you don’t try to read those. 
What’s the point when your own chapter is ending? When memories of you will be left to collect dust on the surface? 
What’s the point when he knows he is going back to the one he has always loved? 
His rough calloused hand comes in contact with your cheek. 
“I’m sorry.” he whispers again as he reaches down to place a kiss on your forehead. 
“I’m sorry.” he kisses your right eye.
“I’m sorry.” he kisses your left eye.
“I’m sorry.” this time it’s the tip of your nose. 
“I’m sorry” and lastly it’s your lips. 
You have never seen Min Yoongi this emotional. 
After Gyuri left him, he became numb. You were never able to thaw the frozen parts of him. 
But tonight you see a completely different Yoongi. Is this Gyuri’s magic? Has her return made him a human again? 
Yoongi - who never touched you or kissed you more than it’s needed, is now apologizing while kissing every small part of your face? 
You take a sharp breath and reply, “it’s okay.” even though you don’t know what he is apologizing for. For not being able to reciprocate your feelings? For using you when you let him? For leaving you behind after tonight? 
He has already started placing kisses around your jaw, throat, collarbones. His hands fist the hem of your pajama top and he pulls it up revealing your naked chest. 
He doesn’t waste time diving down and taking one of your perked nipples inside his mouth. 
He sucks on it softly, sweetly - like a lover. Your tears start spilling from your eyes finally. But you completely lose it when you feel his own tears on the mound of your breast. You let him sob, as you sob quietly. 
It doesn’t take much time for your clothes and his clothes to join as a hip on the floor of your bedroom. 
Yoongi pumps himself, preparing for one last time to enter you. When he lines his cock on your entrance, he takes a quick glance at your face, as if asking for permission. 
Your tear stained face lights up in a small smile - it’s not fake. 
He enters you, takes up every corner of your walls, fills you with himself - both of your body and heart. 
Yoongi doesn’t say anything anymore. He pushes himself inside you, pounds into you with an unusual pace. 
His face comes to rest on the crook of your neck. You embrace him to stay there, stay with you as long as it lasts. 
For the first time ever, Yoongi doesn’t fucks you - he makes love to you. 
The realization makes you shudder. 
Why now? Why now out of all the time? Why now when everything is ending? 
His breath starts getting labored, you feel yourself hanging close to the edge as well. 
And after a few more thrusts, you let go. He fills you up following your invitation. 
Both of you stay like that even after the deed is done - for a moment, an hour? You don’t know.  
You feel his disposal running down your inner thigh, when he finally slips out of you. 
You sneak a glance in his dark orbs for one last time. With a sore throat and an equally sore heart you whisper, “Be happy, Yoongi.” 
You see one last drop of tear slipping down his eyes when he dips down to cage your lips in his for one last time. 
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It’s been a month since that night. 
It’s been a month since you last talked to Yoongi beside work. 
It’s been a month since you last saw Yoongi outside work. 
It’s been a month since you withdrew from Gyuri’s project.
It’s been more than a month since you had your last period. 
As you stand in your bathroom, with the tiny testing kit, those two red lines mock you. 
You thought that night was the last time? But this after effect - where will you go with this? Who will you confide in? 
It can’t be Min Yoongi - can it? 
You have let him slide through your fingers after all. 
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catboyieejeno · 10 months
Text
.・゜゜・・゜゜・..・゜゜・★
cw: little plot, roommates/fwb to lovers (ig?), strength kink, oral (fem receiving), slightly toxic (?), jealousy, very possessive jeno, overstimulation
18+ minors do not interact !
"stop fucking moving,"
you gasp out when jeno lands a slap on your clit, unable to help but jolt at the wave of pain and pleasure that shoots through your nerves. your eyes are dazed, but you can still make out his figure between your legs. he readjusts, using his big palms to keep your thighs far apart.
"i-i'm sorry, i'm sorry," you whimper weakly. he doesn't pay any mind to your apology, though, attaching his mouth to your dripping cunt once again.
by now, you knew jeno well enough to know exactly what pushed his buttons. it's exhilarating to test his limits, because more often than not, you'd end up with a few mind-blowing orgasms as your so-called 'punishment' at the end of the night.
so earlier, when your mutual friend jaemin came over, you thought it would be ingenious to settle down on the couch beside him and swing your legs over his lap.
that was your first mistake.
"sit there and take it," jeno growls, "and stay fucking still unless you want me to edge you all night,"
you knew your little plan would bother jeno, and it very much did. it was painfully obvious on his features, from the moment you hiked up your smooth legs and laid them over jaemin's thighs.
jeno's glare was unyielding, and he had his jaw clenched so tight, you worried his teeth might crack.
purely oblivious to your antics and jeno’s sudden sour mood, jaemin didn't think twice about resting his hands on your bare skin—it was an innocent gesture, really. the problem was, when he told a joke that made you laugh, you laughed a little too hard, taking his hand into your own and sliding it up your thigh.
it was bad enough that your cotton shorts were absolutely tiny, but it was worse that they were now tucked high between your legs. by the time you settled jaemin's hand where you wanted it to be, he was no less than a few inches from your core.
that was mistake number two.
"jeno. holy shit, please,"
"you wanna tease me, huh? wanna get me jealous? you like that shit," it doesn't matter that he's mumbling into your folds and his speech is slightly slurred, you catch onto his every word.
he laps you up again and again, alternating between laying his tongue flat on your clit and wrapping his lips around it to suck on it. his hands have slid up your waist, but his elbows keep your legs pinned open.
you're, quite literally, on fire. the wet, slurping sounds of him making out with your pussy are so loud that they're deafening. every groan and growl he grants shoots vibrations through you, and there doesn't seem to be enough oxygen in the room with the way you're rigidly panting.
if he didn't let you come soon, you're pretty sure you'd pass out.
"do you want anything to drink, jae?"
jeno scoffs. since when the fuck did you call jaemin 'jae?'
"some water would be nice, thanks," the boy flashed his smile at you and you stood up, ass practically hanging out of your shorts and right in his face. you couldn't see with your back turned, but jeno caught the way his friend's eyes darted to your pretty, plump cheeks, adam's apple bobbing as he gulped.
you returned with his glass, but just before you handed it to him, you pretended to stumble, and some of the water landed right over his crotch.
was it extremely cliche? sure, but it certainly did the trick.
when you came back with a kitchen towel chanting fake apologies and just about straddled one of his legs, jeno had pretty much had enough.
but then, as if that wasn't nearly enough, you went on to wipe away at jaemin's jeans (right over his slightly swelling bulge) wearing the most infuriatingly innocent look on your face.
"i'm so sorry!"
"it's okay, really," jaemin insisted, subconsciously spreading his knees farther apart so you could continue to dry him off.
"it's really not! jeno," you called, turning and batting your eyes, "can't you lend him one of your pairs?"
the moment your gaze landed on him, you knew you were fucked.
he narrowed his eyes on you, shooting daggers your way. after letting some air out through his nose, he seethed through his tightened teeth a small "sure."
and that? that was mistake number three.
"jeno, baby, i'm so close,"
"no," he warns, "don't you dare fucking come."
"i can't help it, i'm gonna-"
he stops at once, pulling the rug clean from under you and smirking at the way you whine out, body seizing up as your orgasm is stripped away. he watches as your hole pulses incessantly with need, grinding himself into the mattress.
you cry out, "i said i was sorry," but he only tuts, shaking his head.
"you made your bed, now lie in it."
"please," you're breathless and desperate for some sort of release. so much so, that you resort to shamelessly bargaining, "i'll give you head everyday for the next week,"
"not good enough. I can fuck your mouth whenever I want,"
"jeno! i'll- fuck, i don't know," you look around as you rack through your brain, but he doesn't let you finish your thought.
"say you're mine."
"but,” you pause, eyes widening, “i-i'm not,"
jeno sticks his middle finger knuckle deep into you, stilling it there within your tight, fluttering walls, "so then, tell me. you want jaemin's mouth on you instead of mine?"
"no," you answer quickly, honestly.
he pumps into you once, then twice, slowly coaxing the confession out of you, "then say it, baby. say you're mine, that i'm the only one who makes you feel this good,"
"i'm not yours, jeno. we-we've been over this,"
"i guess you don't wanna come then, do you?" he withdraws his digit and sits up on his knees, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, "i don't know why you have to be so fucking stubborn all the time,"
you watch as he pulls his length out of his boxers, mouth working to gather saliva to the front of his mouth. he spits, letting it fall onto his swollen, pink tip. it's hard to hide the way you're basically squirming in anticipation, hips practically bucking up and closer to him.
"i'm sorry," you try again, voice sweet and airy. but again, he doesn't answer. he simply lines himself up with your hole and pushes in with a hiss, training his eyes on you to watch the way your jaw goes slack.
"you're a brat," he scolds, "and a tease," his hands press down on your tummy, resting his weight there. when he bottoms out, you grip his wrists, looking down to watch the way he sits on his heels with his dick buried in you.
"i'm sorr-“
"stop fucking saying that," he thrusts into you and you moan out, "you know what i wanna hear," his gradually increasing pace makes you shudder, and your orgasm starts building within you once again, "i'm gonna fuck you so good, you'll never even think about jaemin again,"
jeno rams his hips into you and the sound of your skin slapping against his echoes around your bedroom. you try to cover up how close you're getting, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he won't notice until it's too late.
the only problem is: jeno knows you just as well as you know him, and even more so, he knows your body. he prides himself in that—in catching every little involuntary sign and habit you have.
he knows the way your toes curl when he hits the right spot, deep within your gummy walls, and he knows the way your eyes gloss over to spill hot tears when he chokes you.
your face might be able to conceal your true intentions, but your pussy, gushing and squeezing around him, can not.
“if i feel you come around me, so help me god, i’m gonna stop,”
there isn’t the slightest hint of a bluff behind his sharp tone, and it pisses you off. your cheeks are red hot with frustration, nails digging into his skin, which only makes him squeeze your waist harder. the pleasure is dizzying, his thick length dragging up and down your walls in the most delectable way.
you aren’t gonna last much longer, you know that. he knows that.
“please, jeno. please please please,”
“i’ll let you come, baby. there’s nothing i want more than for you to come on my cock, but i need you to tell me,”
sneakily, you trail your hand between your legs to stimulate your clit, but he’s quick to grasp both of your wrists before you can even savor the feeling, pinning your arms on your chest between your bouncing breasts.
you’re a mere second away from whining out in protest when his own free hand flies to rub circles on your puffy clit, and suddenly, the feeling is far too overwhelming.
forced to blink harshly a few times to regain focus, you look at his features and come to the conclusion that truthfully, jaemin, and no one else for that matter, could ever make you feel like this.
you didn’t want anyone else anyway. your little act was just a ploy to get you to this very point, stuck underneath jeno who manages to make you come so hard each and every time he’s inside you that you wind up seeing stars.
as the cord threatens to snap in your belly, every ounce of you longing for release, you moan out loudly, giving in, “i’m yours! i don’t want anyone else, i promise,”
“yeah?”
“yes,” you insist, “yes, baby. fuck, m’all yours, always yours,”
he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and suddenly, all the anger he had been airing out fades for a moment. he doesn’t shove his tongue down your throat (although you wouldn’t have minded much), and he doesn’t move his lips in any kind of rush; instead, they move against yours softly, almost feather-like, as if your confession would float away from any suddenness.
and finally, against your lips, he mumbles, “go ahead and come, sweet girl. i’ve got you.”
instantly, your nerves ignite and your breath hitches, your orgasm washing over you at last.
he isn’t far behind, not at all. he had been sensitive ever since he’d started humping the bed with his head stuck between your legs.
he finishes with you, in you, shooting streams of hot white cum inside your clenched walls. the grip he holds on your hand releases as a grunt rumbles in his throat, and you instinctively wrap your arms around him, letting him bury his face into your neck.
when he stills his movements, he lays his weight on top of you, warm, slick skin pressing right up against you, chest to chest.
after a few moments of silence, other than the settling heavy breaths from both of you, you rake your fingers through his hair, muttering timidly by his ear.
“i mean it. i’m yours. i only did all that earlier for—well, for this.”
“all mine?”
you nod, giving him reassurance when he lifts his head to read the expression on your face, “mhm.”
“good. i’m all yours, too.”
5K notes · View notes
niningtori · 5 months
Text
make you cry | part one
part two: beomgyu's ending | part three: hyuka's ending
pairing: beomgyu x you, huening kai x you in alternate ending
summary: beomgyu is your manwhore best friend who you've been secretly in love with for years. one night, he asks you to blur the lines between friendship and physical intimacy for his own convenience.
genre: ANGST, romance, smut (mdni), fwb
warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, dom!gyu, eventual sub!gyu, fingering (vaginal), dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!
word count: 4.2k
notes: hi friends! i'm not completely satisfied with this, but i'd rather it be done than sitting in my drafts. pls don't be mean ;_;
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being in love with your best friend is not for the faint of heart, you think. in some cases, it’s the easiest thing in the world, but beomgyu makes it difficult. he’s not a bad guy, at least not deep down, but as you watch him break the heart of another notch in his belt, you can’t help but shiver at the fact that he’d very easily do the same to you if you gave him that chance. not that you ever will, that is, but the thought still remains.
you met in grade school. for you, it was a classic case of love at first sight. you had just fallen off the swingset and the teacher had yet to notice you, so you were crying alone when he came up to you with a dinosaur bandaid in tow. he looked like an angel with the sun encircling him, and even as a child, you thought he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen as he held his little hand out for you to grasp. you had no chance to steel your heart when he asked you if you wanted to be friends, and after that, the rest is history. 
that was years ago, but the image of him holding out his hand is engraved in your bones. you think about it even now as you watch him make the poor, unfortunate girl in front of you bawl like a baby. she asks him why he's doing this, what she did wrong, how she can fix it to make him stay. but he's dead set on breaking her heart tonight. and you'll be the one who takes his tipsy ass home after he's done ruining this girl’s perception of love. you’re nothing more than a glorified lackey and enabler, but that's just how it is.
“god, i don’t know why they can never just let go. they always have to make it so hard,” he grumbles in the passenger’s seat of your car. he seems more annoyed than genuinely upset and you can’t help but to feel for the girl who he just unceremoniously dumped in the middle of a house party, so you speak up for once.
“it’s not her fault, beoms. she just really likes you,” you reason. not that it matters, anyway, but you feel better after speaking your mind.
“so it’s my fault? i just don’t get it. i told her no strings attached from the beginning. the fact that she took it seriously is her own problem.” well, nevermind about feeling better. you feel even worse for her now.
“it’s hard not to get attached to you,” you mumble.
“what?” he asks, not even really paying attention to what you’re saying, but still asking for the sake of being (what he thinks is) polite.
“no, it’s nothing,” you reply quickly.
“mmm,” he nods, completely preoccupied with his own issues to really give a fuck about what you have to say. then, as if by a stroke of genius, he says his next words without much thought.
“i just thought of something! you would never act like that with me, would you?” you can’t help but scowl. of course you’d act like that. you’re a normal human being with normal feelings. you’ve already fallen for beomgyu without the physical intimacy, so you can’t imagine how you’d act if you actually had sex with him. but you can’t tell him that, or else he’d start suspecting something.
“i guess not,” you sigh. 
“then why don’t we hook up instead?” he asks, genuinely earnest. 
“no,” you say simply.
“why not?” he frowns, somewhat offended.
“i’m not interested,” you shrug. you don’t realize that your indifference has the opposite effect on beomgyu. what he perceives as your disgust only interests him more.
“c’mon, i’d definitely show you a good time,” he argues.
“i’m fine, thanks.” 
“no, you’re not fine. you haven’t slept with anybody in months. not since what’s-his-name, right? it’s the perfect deal. i’ll give you the time of your life and i’ll get to fuck without any feelings involved.” you try your hardest not to say it’s too late for that. those words will never leave your mouth, though. or else he’d drop you like a hot potato.
“i said no and i mean no. besides, i kind of like somebody right now.” you’re not lying, really. you truly do like, even love, somebody right now, and he’s sitting right next to you.
“who is he?” he asks. “actually, your taste in men is so shit, i don't even wanna know.” usually, that would hurt your feelings, but this whole situation is so fucked up you can’t even find it in you to stifle your laugh. 
“true.” he cocks an eyebrow at your answer. you should, in theory, vehemently deny this. just how shitty is this guy for you to not even put up a fight? 
“okay, i lied. now i really wanna know. who is he? yeonjun?” he asks. you giggle even more.
“no. yeonjun is sweet, but no. and i’m not telling you, so you should give up.” 
“you think yeonjun is sweet in comparison? damn, this guy must be fucking scum,” he laughs. you can’t help but shake your head with an airy laugh of your own. yeah, he’s so awful he even makes yeonjun look sweet. at least it seems like yeonjun has a conscience when he fucks somebody over. beomgyu, for the most part, has none.
“he’s not all bad,” you say softly, still smiling and resting your head on the headrest of your car. 
“but still bad,” he argues. 
“mhmm,” you hum. “still bad.”
-
beomgyu doesn’t mention hooking up again after that, and for that you are thankful, you think. is there a part of you that regrets not saying yes? in a way, you do. who wouldn’t want to be even closer to the one they love? but you know the closeness would be a lie. even if you were in closer proximity physically, he’d still be far away emotionally. too far to ever catch him. and so you sit at the counter of this shitty bar and watch him try to woo one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, and by the looks of it, it’s working. you smile bitterly and down another shot, making your stomach feel hotter and hotter. you know that by the end of the night, you’ll feel sick, but you’d rather be physically sick and drunk rather than emotionally sick and sober. 
“you okay?” kai asks, sliding into the seat next to yours and cutting into your daze with ease. 
“aren’t i always?” you answer with a wry smile.
“it’s that bad, huh?” he asks. beomgyu is your best friend, sure, but kai is the only person in the world who knows about your feelings for him. he also feels like the only person in the world who would understand them. 
“yeah, it is,” you mumble, downing yet another drink as you watch beomgyu grinding on the girl salaciously. 
“wanna get out of here?” he asks sympathetically. you should say no. beomgyu will be angry that you left  him, even if he’d ditch you in a heartbeat to get laid. but now, as you watch him shoving his tongue in the red-lipped mouth of the girl who will now be the impossible standard you’ll hold yourself to from hereon out, you can’t bring yourself to care.
“i do,” you smile, for real this time, and his grin matches yours.
you’re so drunk, you barely remember how you got home, but you’re here and so is hyuka. you don’t cry, even if he kind of wishes you would just so you could let it all out. you laugh, even, as he tells his dorky jokes and beats your ass in mario kart. things are going so well, you don’t even hear the pounding on your door until kai says something about it.
“i’ll get it,” he says soothingly when you unsteadily try to stand up.
“thanks, hyuka,” you smile. and that smile stays planted on your face until you see who’s at the door. beomgyu. and by the looks of it, he’s pissed.
“what the fuck is your problem?! how could you just leave me there alone?” he asks as soon as he’s let in. your face sinks and all prior happiness is washed away in an instant.
“you weren’t alone,” kai cuts in defensively. “she was alone until i came and got her.” beomgyu is actually a little embarrassed by this blatant callout, but he’d sooner die than admit it.
“well, she should’ve said something, at least,” he counters, face still hot and voice still as loud as ever.
“i thought you were going home with that girl,” you reply meekly. 
“and you couldn’t just ask?!” he snaps. 
“you’re being an asshole,” kai argues. “nobody wants to watch you tonguing down some random girl, and she’s not your babysitter.” the room is deathly quiet after this. beomgyu is fishing for words, but he’s too drunk to quite think of any at the moment. he wishes he were sober so he could put kai in his place, but the words never come. all he knows is he’s pissed beyond anything he can properly articulate and it’s driving him crazy. 
“you’re drunk,” kai adds sternly. “go home.” 
“hyuka, it's okay,” you say gently. “he's too drunk for that. he can crash on the couch.” beomgyu doesn't know why, but he scowls at the nickname.
“but —”
“it's okay,” you repeat. kai’s face looks torn. 
“alright, then i'll head out,” he relents after a few seconds. “the both of you just need some sleep,” he says with a sharp glance towards beomgyu, who is still fuming, by the way.
“thank you,” you say with a terse smile. he returns it with a smile of his own and shuts the door behind him. beomgyu watches the entire interaction and somehow feels even worse.
“what the fuck was that? is he the guy you’re hung up on or something?” 
“no!” you exclaim incredulously. “hyuka is a nice guy, and he’s just… helping me with some things right now.” you’re not the most eloquent person on a good day, much less while drunk, so that’s all you can really say at the moment.
“what ‘things’ could he possibly be helping you with?” he snaps before realization dawns on him. “you told him about that guy, didn’t you?! you can tell him but you can’t tell me?” 
“he… he just understands,” you say. you knew beomgyu wouldn’t just let this shit go and be done with it. he’s like a child finding out his dog likes somebody better than he likes him, and it’s exhausting.
“are you sleeping with him?” 
“what, no!”  you say firmly. 
“you are, aren’t you?” he sneers. “you won’t let me touch you, but you’re letting him?” 
“is it so hard to believe that a man just wants to be my friend without wanting to fuck me?” truthfully, yes. you’re good looking and his experience tells him that men always harbor those intentions. well, he does, at least. and for some reason, as he looks at you in your big t-shirt and sweatpants, those intentions are brewing even more. 
“beomgyu?” you ask tentatively. his eyes are so intense it seems like he’s even more pissed off,  somehow. your innocent look stokes the flames of what’s already been burning for you.
as if he’s possessed, he stalks his way over to you, grabs your face before you can even react, and plants a bruising kiss on your soft lips. you gasp when he meanly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and he can’t help but chuckle. the kiss is cruel for so many reasons, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t knock you off of your feet. you’re usually so restrained around him for reasons only you and kai know, but you feel your inhibitions melt as his tongue enters your mouth. he tastes like alcohol, but then, so do you, and he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, if his hungry kiss in any indication, he seems to love it. 
one of his hands travel under your big hoodie and he tweaks your already hardened nipple between his fingers. 
“does that feel good, baby?” he asks lowly, and you feel yourself becoming even more wet. you're too embarrassed to respond, but judging from his tone, he already knows your answer. 
his kisses are unrelenting and fierce, no gentleness or care to be seen, but you’re so sweet he can’t control himself. he’s been wanting to do this ever since he hit puberty, but you’ve never seemed interested in him for reasons he can’t understand. but now, you seem more than interested as you let him lead you to your bedroom. he lays you down on your bed and takes off your sweatpants. when he sees you, naked and glistening just from a few touches, he licks his lips in anticipation.
“all this from a few kisses?” he teases, rubbing his fingers up and down your slit. you can do nothing but gasp in response as he pushes one of his long, calloused fingers into your heat.
“s-so tight, it’s sucking me in,” he moans. “i can’t wait to see how you feel around my cock.” he adds a second finger and curls, hitting your sweet spot. all you can do is moan as he takes his thumb and rolls your clit. he watches your body rise and fall with the pleasure and it fascinates him like nothing he’s ever seen. your eyes are screwed shut, but he can’t help but prod and tease to see the different facial expressions you show him. before long, he’s pounding into you. the sound of squelches mixed with your moans only goads him further and further until you’re clenching down mercilessly on his fingers.
“aww, does that feel good, baby?” he coos. “wanna feel even better?” post-release clarity should hit you right about now, but you’re only more eager when he removes his clothes. his lengthy cock, angry and reddened, springs up and slaps his stomach. you whimper at the sight and he smirks at how needy you are.
he hovers over you and slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to rub his stiffened length up and down your slit. 
“gyu, you need a condom —” you begin to protest.
“why? i’m clean. and i don’t fuck just anyone raw,” he argues as the head of his cock comes dangerously close to hooking on your entrance. you’ve never been able to say no to him for any meaningful amount of time, so relenting isn’t out of the ordinary for you. but more than that, his words, though unromantic, spark a bit of hope in your heart. you’re special, you think. 
“do you trust me?” he asks. 
no. not at all.
“of course.” and he pushes in. his arrogance falters as you take him in, inch by throbbing inch. it’s a tight fit, and the way you clench around the tip of his cock only drives him further and further into madness. how can you feel so good? how can this feel so perfect? 
your poor pussy is equal parts trying to suck him in and trying to resist so the intrusion is forced out. to him, it feels like heaven. 
“t-tight!” he hisses. “relax, baby, or you’re gonna break me.” for some reason, his words comfort you, allowing him smooth entry until he’s completely sheathed in you. you both moan when he completely bottoms out, balls hitting your ass in the most lewd way. his precum mixed with the result of your release seep into the bedsheets. he stays there for just a moment, pushing your hair out of your face, and his next words are uncommonly tender.
“you look so pretty like this,” he muses, and you don’t even have time to blush before he’s unsteadily pulling out, pussy pulling him back in like it never wants him to leave, then thrusting back in again. 
“oh m-my god,” he says as he begins to ram into you. “so good, baby. you’re taking me so well.” 
“b-big!” is all you can manage to say as he continues to fuck you open.
“oh baby, are you going dumb on my cock? can’t even manage to get the words out, can you? it’s okay, don’t think. i’ll take care. of. you,” he says, punctuating each word with his mean thrusts. 
you’re crying now, the pleasure too great to stifle your tears. beomgyu thinks you look absolutely lovely like this, lovelier than anyone he’s ever seen, especially when he looks at where you two are joined and watches himself enter and exit your puffy pussy. each gasp, each breathy whine you emit makes him feel crazier and crazier. he aches so much, he has no choice but to continue pounding into you until he's relieved. so he does. he’s gripping the plush of your thighs like he might die if he doesn’t have something to hold onto. 
he leans over to give you a nasty kiss, all tongue and teeth. when he parts from you, a lewd string of saliva falls from your mouths and he can’t control the chuckle that escapes him when he sees your pupils are blown out as you flounder for his lips again. 
“look, baby. look at how good i’m fucking you.” you look down and see how his cock protrudes from your tummy as he rams in and out of you. “nobody else has fucked you right, but don’t worry, i’ll make sure to fix that.” your pussy involuntarily clenches at his filthy words and it’s enough to make you come.
“c-coming!” you manage to choke out as you spasm around him, back arching deliciously. he follows soon after, thrusts becoming uneven before you feel his cum shooting inside of you.
-
fucking beomgyu comes naturally, and often. he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. hooking up becomes almost a daily affair, but you’re so hungry for him you can’t bring yourself to protest. you fuck in his car, on his couch, over the fucking kitchen counter, even. all plans to go out with anyone else are immediately dashed in favor of being with him, instead. you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him, and even if you know, know, know it’s fruitless, you can’t help but relent when he looks at you like a man starved. 
“this can’t be good for you,” kai tells you one evening in the comfort of your apartment. it’s a rare occurrence to have a free night from beomgyu’s clutches. kai hasn’t seen you in weeks because you’ve been too “busy” with beomgyu. 
“well, i know,” you sigh, too tired to argue with him. 
“if you know, then why do you do it?” he asks tentatively. you can’t help but give him a look. 
“you know why,” you say. 
“he's just messing with your head. you know this can't end well.” you flinch at the word “end”. you know it, he knows it, beomgyu surely fucking knows it, but you can’t help but give in every time. “what are you gonna do when he inevitably fucks you over? and he will, just like always.”
“i… i’ll deal with it when the time comes,” you protest. he sees your defeated expression and lightly tilts your head so it’s resting on his shoulder. your retribution for your actions was always well on its way, but you didn’t know it would come so soon. 
you hear a key turning in the door. there’s only one person in the world you’ve given a spare to, so you aren’t surprised in the slightest when beomgyu walks in with that signature smirk on his face. he scowls a bit when he’s greeted with the scene of you and kai sitting so intimately.
“am i interrupting something?” he scoffs as you raise your head from kai’s shoulder.
“no,” kai replies before you can even fix your lips to respond. to your mild surprise, he doesn't push any further.
“whatever,” he shrugs, plopping down next to the two of you and pulling out his phone.
“wanna see this girl whose number i got today?” he asks casually, swiping through his phone eagerly. so that's why he didn't wanna meet up. your heart feels like a hole’s been blown straight through it. you and kai share a deep look, which beomgyu completely misses as he pulls up a picture of a beautiful looking girl. 
“this is her,” he says with a triumphant smirk. you don’t — can’t — respond. you just have a blank look on your face.
“what?” he asks petulantly. “she’s really pretty, look!” he insists, pulling up another picture. “she’s one of the hottest girls i’ve seen in a minute.”
any last shred of hope or dignity you have is strangled in its crib at his careless words. your eyes are hot and your stomach hurts so much you feel like you’re going to vomit. kai notices your discomfort and decides to put a stop to this once and for all.
“alright, that’s enough,” kai snaps. “nobody wants to see that shit.”
“what’s your fucking problem?” beomgyu retorts.
“my problem is that you’re a fucking moron. grow up.” beomgyu’s not one to get physical, at least not in a violent sense, but he’s on the precipice of breaking that streak at kai’s harsh words.
“stop, hyuka. it’s okay,” you say softly. beomgyu is so furious, he almost forgot you’re here, but he's genuinely confused by kai’s words.
“what's okay? what is it that you're not telling me?” beomgyu asks. 
“it's not okay, actually. he’s fucking you but he comes around and pulls this shit right in front of you?! she won’t say it, but i will.” 
“kai, don’t —” 
“she doesn’t care! no strings attached, that’s always been the deal.”
“you may be stupid as fuck, but surely you’re not that stupid,” kai sneers. “so if you say you don’t already know, you’re just a fucking liar.” beomgyu pauses at this. is he saying what he thinks he’s saying? surely you didn’t catch feelings, right? but one look at your face, and he knows kai is telling the truth. 
but why? and when?
“since when did you…”
“since always,” you say quietly. 
“oh, fuck. look, i —”
“it’s okay. i already know,” you cut in. and you do already know, but you can’t bear to hear him say it. beomgyu, in all his glory, processes this and instead of regret, all he feels is anger.
“i’m the piece of shit guy you can’t get over? are you fucking serious?”
“hyuka, you should go,” you say instead of letting him watch the melodrama unfolding before him. kai looks uncertainly between the both of you before relenting. 
“call me later, okay?” he says, wiping tears from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.
“okay,” you reply with a sad smile. he sends beomgyu one last scathing look before gathering his shit and slamming the door behind him. 
“you tricked me!” beomgyu exclaims as soon as the door shuts. “i would’ve never fucked you if i knew you’d be like this.” just like everyone else. he doesn’t need to voice the last part, but you already know he wants to say it, which just hurts you even more.
“did you really not know, or were you just pretending not to know ‘cause it’d be inconvenient for you?” that shuts him up. kai was right, he’d be stupid not to know. maybe not at first, but surely along the way. surely when you’d look at him so longingly after sleeping with him, or the way you’d look so sad when he didn't stay after sex.
“listen, i’m so sorry that you’re scared, or angry, or whatever it is you’re feeling. i really am. but are you so selfish that you really think nobody else is afraid to have their heart broken? and do you think that means you’re allowed to hurt everyone else instead?” you ask quietly. every new word pierces his heart like nothing he's ever felt before. he wants to say something, but for the life of him, he can’t think of anything quite fitting. 
“i think you should leave,” you say after what feels like an eternity of silence. he looks at you with watery eyes and you almost feel guilty, but you’re through with feeling things for him that he’d never have the courtesy to feel for you. “go,” you repeat defeatedly, striding to the door and holding it open for him and he feels more and more like a rat you want to chase out of your home.
he looks like he wants to say something, but one look at you tells him you’re done listening. with heavy feet and an even heavier heart, he heads through the doorway, pausing only before he’s about to cross the threshold. he has a sinking feeling in his gut that tells him this is probably the last time he’ll be here. 
“are we still friends after this?” he asks lowly, eyes wide and more desperate than you’ve ever seen them. 
“no,” you say simply, and shut the door.
notes: not a ton of smut in this part, but i think the next part will have more i fear.
taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast
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luviestarz · 6 months
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park jisung fic recs!
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✰ drunk jisung is clingy… and kiss-driven - @asteroidsung (you didn’t take bestfriend!jisung to be an affectionate drunk, thinking he would be the type to be sleepy and quiet. clearly, you’re mistaken. and oh how good it feels to be wrong.)
✰ Heart Band-Aids - @tynct (you and jisung separate from the others at an amusement, and he buys you heart band-aids)
✰ HAUNT ME, BABY! — PJS - @ukiyoexo (when you see a ghost, you’re supposed to be scared right? yeah, that’s what jisung thought too until he met you. a night spent in boredom leads you to lighting random candles and attempting to summon a ghost. you never expected it to work — or for the spirit to be so cute.)
✰ 8 letters | park jisung - @xiaodejunletsact (4 years ago, you and jisung’s long term friendship came to an abrupt end. now in senior year, the two of you find yourselves being forced together again by your mothers. suddenly, jisung begins to ask himself what is more important: his reputation or you.)
✰ sweeter than honey. - @luvdsc (you and jisung are too busy being the biggest simps for each other that neither one realizes that, well, both of you are the biggest simps for each other. or alternatively, diamonds (and park jisung) are a girl’s best friend.)
✰ fwb!park jisung x reader - @jenosbigtoe (fwb!jisung but he desperately wants to make you his so he goes the extra mile to show u how much he really wants you)
✰ perv!jisung x reader, braces - @neocentral
✰ Too Young - @loudstan (You thought avoiding Jisung after what happened during his first rut would make the problem go away (SPOILER ALERT: it didn't.)
✰ at midnight with you - @hyuckbeam (your boyfriend just recently got his driver's license, and boy, was he adamant to take you for a ride (with you being just as eager as him).
✰ DO IT AGAIN - @taexoxosgf (your brother’s best friend can never get you alone. that’s why he won’t miss an opportunity— even if your brother’s on the other side of the walls.)
✰ dance practice ; 박지성 - @martiniblues (with you and jisung’s time running thin due to his schedules, you decide to go visit him at practice. when the two of you finally have some time alone, jisung thinks this is the perfect time to mess with you.)
✰ texts w/ bf!jisung! - @haespoir
✰ flirty bf texts. - @ohmygs-blog
✰ FULL MOON — PARK JISUNG - @moonjella (your boyfriend, jisung has his rut and has been avoiding you all day. for the first time his rut has aligned with a full moon making it much more powerful than usual. he's afraid of hurting you, but you show him just how strong you can be and how much of him you can take.)
✰ SCORE THAT GOAL! — smau - @lqfiles (after your college had announced that all the students were required to join a club and attend it twice a week, you were planning on either a) dropping out, or b) join the art club and pretend to be sick most of the times. that was before you discovered that park jisung is a long time member of the football team. change in plans: you LOVE football.)
✰ Teach Me || P.JS - @ihaechans (It's been about ten months since you and Jisung started dating, and not once has he fucked you properly. Yes, he's fucked you multiple times, but you're always on top riding him, or simply using him as you please, leaving him no room to fuck you how he wants to. Finally, he musters the courage to talk to you about it, and the outcome makes him wish he'd done it sooner.)
✰ jealousy | pjs - @heyjwi (your boyfriend loved watching you perform but today something was different. that angered expression and glaring eyes, what’s wrong with him?)
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thriftedtchotchkes · 9 months
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don't wanna leave this play date
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pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader
summary: you and mike find a way to make a boring shift at freddy's a little more interesting
warnings: 18+ MDNI, coworker!reader, smut, pwp, overstimulation, edging, blowjob, extremely rough oral, throatpie, fwb
word count: 1.9k
(based on these two requests, tysm for sending them in!)
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"Thank you. God, thank you so fucking much."
You can't respond to him with your mouth as full as it is, but he picks up the acknowledgment in your next extra-hard suck. He probably wouldn't have heard you anyway, not with how loud he's gotten over the last half hour.
Should you both be working right now? Yes. Could something go terribly wrong because you're too busy blowing your coworker to watch the security monitors? Oh, absolutely.
But when his curly mop of hair appeared at the edge of the doorway midway through your shift, you knew you'd end up doing whatever he asked you to. It might just be your fatal flaw—you can never say no to Mike Schmidt.
He buries his fingers in your hair, tensing but not tugging, as you steadily work him the way you know he likes. He's surprisingly gentle for someone so eager to get his cock in your mouth every night, but you figure there's not much else to do during a midnight to 6 a.m. security gig at a closed-down pizzeria no one gives a shit about anymore.
Plus, you like doing it. You like him. It's cute how unashamed and unapologetic he is about how badly he wants you, and he makes you feel so good, you've never even thought about turning him down.
Even on nights when he just needs a quick release to ease the boredom or relax him enough to squeeze in a nap, just the taste and weight of him on your tongue has you soaking right through your panties. And he always makes it up to you.
But you're bored tonight, too. With three hours left to go, you'd been sitting in your shitty folding chair wondering how the hell you were going to stay awake and pass the time when Mike offered you an enticing solution. Except, you're still feeling antsy, and you don't want this to be over as fast as it usually is. Tonight, you want to play a little longer.
You pull off of him with a lewd pop and jerk him off languidly, loosening your grip to stave off his quickly approaching orgasm.
"That feel good?" you ask breathily, inhaling a lungful of air after letting him rut into the inside of your cheek for the past ten minutes. His fingers twitch against your scalp as he nods.
"S'good, feels so good," he slurs, his head tipped back as he bucks off the chair and into your fist.
"You want more?" You start to twist your wrist whenever you get close to the tip, and you can see and feel the shudder that wracks through him.
"Yes, god, yes. Please," he pleads, just short of begging.
"More what?" you goad experimentally. It wasn't your intention to make him beg when he walked into your office asking for help, but now you don't want him to stop.
"Y-your mouth," his head lolls forward, and he bites his lip hard at the sight of you licking away the precum streaming from his tip.
"Deeper, can I—," he tries to ask, but you shift to tease the underside of his head, and he chokes out a groan. "Wanna fuck your throat so bad."
"Are you gonna cum if I let you?"
"Fuck, probably," he admits reluctantly.
"Then, pick something else," you give him a teasing smile, a little charmed by his honesty.
Continuing to stroke him, you duck down to press a wet kiss to the base of his cock, then surprise him by sucking one of his balls into your mouth.
"Jesus, fuck," he gasps, leaking more precum that dribbles onto your cheek as you alternate between harder suction and softer swipes of your tongue.
He tastes salty and heady, and you were right. You're wet as fuck and so tempted to shove your other hand down your pants to toy with your clit, but you know he'll do that later. And you're not even close to being done with him yet.
Your grip tightens as you pick up your pace and focus closer to the head, maintaining eye contact that seems like it's setting him off just as much as your mouth or hand. His whole body vibrates with those telltale whimpers, and he finally starts to tug at your hair.
"M'gonna cum. Shit, keep going, I'm gonna cum," he grits out, his chest heaving.
His eyebrows pinch and his lips part, and he looks like he's seconds away from blowing his load all over your face—but then you release him again. You slide your hand under his shirt to stroke his heated skin comfortingly as he squeezes his eyes shut, panting like he just ran a marathon.
"Shit...shit," he keens, and you can feel his abs tensing and relaxing under your palm. His cock jerks pathetically next to your face, and you grip the base to make sure he doesn't accidentally topple over the edge.
"Shit," he whines again frustratedly, half-heartedly trying to pry your fingers off him. "Why?"
You rest your head against his thigh and smile, watching him pout down at you. He really is so cute when he gets fussy like this.
"You really wanna cum that fast? What happened to wanting to fuck my throat?" you tease him, beginning to jerk him off again. He sighs in relief, and his hips jut forward to meet your hand on every downstroke.
"You already said no," he replies dejectedly.
"I said not yet," you correct. "If you give me one more, I'll let you do whatever you want."
He eyes you curiously like he thinks you're baiting him, and you guess in a way you are. By now, he knows you've been edging him on purpose, but he has nothing to lose and everything to gain if he accepts your deal. He knows you'll make him feel good no matter what.
"You can choke me," you continue, slurping messily around the tip. "You can be as rough as you want," you trail your lips down his spit-slick length to the base and lick a wide stripe back up, "and you can cum in my mouth, and I promise I'll swallow all of it."
He's nodding frantically before you can even finish, and his eagerness reminds you of a golden retriever.
"You're gonna be good?" you confirm.
"I'll be good, I'll be so good," he blurts out, his urgency slurring his words again.
"I know you will. Just one more time, I know you can handle it," you encourage him.
Then, you swallow him down without warning. He lets out something guttural and animalistic, both hands tensing to hold you in place, and you let him.
You never planned on making this easy, but you meant what you said. He can handle this. He can handle the tightness of your throat constricting around him, contracting intermittently to mimic how your pussy feels fluttering around him.
Or, at least, you hope he can. You feel his balls draw up dangerously under your chin, and when you peer up through your watery lashes, his eyes are starting to cross. That's not good.
Slowly but steadily, he nudges the back of your throat harder and harder until tears and drool are streaming down your cheeks and chin. He's mumbling incoherent strings of praise and curse words between drawn-out whines, but you can barely hear him over the wet sounds of your own gagging.
"Fuck, that's...good, that's so fucking good," he pants raggedly, picking up his brutal pace. It's like he's lost all control of his body, and all he can do is chase the high you've been denying him all night.
You gurgle around him, grasping his thighs to ground yourself against the force of his thrusts, and briefly contemplate trying to stop him. But it's too late and he's already too close. His face screws up, and then you know it's coming.
"I'm sorry—I'm...fuck, I'm s-sorry, I'm so sorry. I can't—," he whimpers, fucking into his fist, "—m'gonna cum, I'm so close."
Moaning around him in response, you dig your nails into his skin, hoping the unexpected pain distracts him enough to keep him from cumming, but that only makes it worse. So, you let him.
The subtle vibration combined with the sharp bite of your nails sends him reeling. His expression goes completely lax, and then—
"I'm cumming...oh my god—," he all but sobs, burying himself as deep as you can take him.
You struggle to breathe through your nose as he empties down your throat, swallowing as much as you can, but you've been edging him for too long.
Viscous fluid leaks out of the corners of your mouth and down his cock, adding to the wet mess in his lap, and your harsh grasp on his thighs only seems to prolong his orgasm. After what feels like a lifetime, his whimpers taper into soft pants and he starts to rub soothing patterns into your scalp, an apology for his rough treatment.
You blearily meet his eyes, and they're glassy and unfocused, watching you reverently like he can't believe you just let him do something he's only ever seen in porn. And that you actually liked it. Shakily, he reaches out to thumb away the release dribbling down your chin, and you pull off of him briefly to suck it off his finger before returning to his cock.
That's why you do this night after night—that look right there. It's the awe and hunger that linger even after he's already thoroughly blissed out and softening in your grasp.
Except tonight, he's not. Mike is somehow still hard as a rock and thrusting weakly into your mouth, trembling like a leaf now that his aftershocks have subsided and the sensitivity is setting in.
Tentatively, you grip him at the base and swirl your tongue around the tip to gauge his reaction, and when he doesn't push you away, you take him further into your mouth. But on your next hard suck, his lips part and a violent shudder wracks his entire body, so you hesitate and pull off.
"Too much?" you wince, slowly uncurling your fingers from around his cock, but he shakes his head furiously.
"N-no, feels...so much," he says, dazed, his voice scarcely above a whisper. "Feels good. Can you keep going? Please."
His face is screwed up, as tense as the rest of him as he struggles with conflicting feelings of intense pleasure and pain, but he's not fighting it. He's actually enjoying it.
He flinches as you resume your movements, toying under the ridge with the tip of your thumb, and begins to squirm the longer you continue to play with him. A quick glance at the clock tells you there's still an hour and a half left of your shift—that's plenty of time.
In the four nights you've worked here, the security monitors haven't shown a single sign of activity and you doubt they're going to start now. Your gaze drops from his pained, yet hopeful expression to his twitching cock, and you make a decision.
You'll go as long as he wants. After all, you can never say no to Mike Schmidt.
"Mhm, whatever you want," you hum, then sink back onto him. He sighs gratefully, shivering at the sensation and your words, and verbalizes his gratitude repeatedly like a prayer.
"Thank you, thank you."
thanks for reading!
(dividers by @saradika-graphics)
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jenosbigtoe · 10 months
Note
thinking about a fwb!jisung but he desperately wants to make you his so he goes the extra mile to show u how much he really wants you ☹️
mdni. nsfw 18+
pairing: fwb!park jisung x reader
warnings: jisung uses kaomojis bc i said so, simp ji, riding, unprotected sex
when jisung wants you, oh my god he would never leave you alone. ever since you had started this arrangement with him, he constantly clung on to you like a little koala bear because he just likes you so much </33 and you’ve finally given him a chance to prove himself to you so duh he’s gotta show you how boyfriend material he can be.
jisungie <3: y/n
jisungie <3: y/n
jisungie <3: y/n i have something to show you ˙ᵕ˙
you: what is it ji
jisungie <3: join my minecraft server :p
you join his private world to see a single giant square floating in an empty field with the words “IF UR READING THIS UR PRETTY AND DESEVE GOOD HEAD” in pixel art form.
you: you spelled deserve wrong ☠️☠️
jisungie <3: …
jisungie <3: o fuck u rite
jisungie <3: that took me hours :((
jisungie <3: …do you still like it tho (◕‿◕✿)
jisungie <3: made it just for my pretty girl <333
you: who else did you send this to then🧐
jisungie <3:
you: jk coming over rn
jisungie <3: (ノ´ヮ´)ノ* yayyyy
“fuckkk, ji you’re so big,” you gasped out as your tight cunt struggled to fit even the tip inside.
he grabbed your hips to slowly guide you deeper on his long shaft, cooing soft praises and words of reassurance. “baby, you’re doing so good. take as much time as you need, sweetheart.”
when you finally sunk down to the base, you pause and relish the feeling of his fat cock stretch your dripping pussy so good. he was just so big and so long, you swear you could feel him in your guts. you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him even closer to your body and hooked your arms around his neck for support.
he gave you a sweet kiss and ground his hips deeply against yours. the hot friction left both of you breathless and groaning. you started to bounce up and down on his cock at a relentless pace, pussy leaking and creaming all over his length.
“oh god, ji!” you cried out before leaning down to give him another kiss. the kiss was hot and heavy, you wanted more and more of him. you were breathless from the feeling of his hot cock rubbing up deep inside you.
he let out hot pants against your lips. “yes, keep going sweetheart. fuck, doing so good. your pussy was made for my cock,” his deep voice rumbled through your body and down into your core.
you whined and started alternating between gyrating your hips around his cock and bouncing up and down on it. he loved it—evidenced by his deep groans and shallow pants. then he started to thrust hard up into you as you continued to bounce on his cock, going so deep he was kissing your cervix. his grip on your hips was relentless, and he pushed you further down on his cock to bottom out each time. your pussy started to leak and drip arousal down his shaft and onto his balls, lewd sounds of sex filling the room.
“need your cock in me forever, jisungie,” you moaned breathlessly against his neck, too fucked out to even keep your head up.
he gave a particularly hard thrust up into your achy cunt at your words, causing you to inhale a sharply. “oh? i can do that for you, sweetheart. if you just let me be your boyfriend <3”
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woahjo · 6 months
Text
cw: fwb, unprotected sex, creampie, no aftercare (it prob happens but i did not write it), casual sex, very very light pain play (satoru pinches), semi-rough sex, light femdom (kinda)
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fwb with satoru gets really messy really really fast and then you both have to pretend that it didn't happen... then ofc the next week you start sleeping together again because you can't keep your hands off of each other.
there's a lot of frustration. a lot of emotion that neither of you are all too eager to claim, and it charges you both up like static set to shock. it makes you... angry and vindictive, chasing something that you both refuse to give a name to (even if the name is obvious).
it's a thursday and the night has gone as either of you had expected it to. truthfully, you didn't come over to satoru's place to fuck him. he's your friend, even with all the sex you have, and you really just came over here just to hang out. of course, one thing led to another and the proximity, teasing words, his hand on the top of your thigh, fingers creeping further and further up... well, of course you ended up like this. it seems to be a natural state for the two of you.
straddled across his lap, you can feel the heavy press of his cock inside of you. satoru's head is angled back, exposing the underside of his jaw as he closes his eyes to admire the tight squeeze of you around him. his hands grip your hips tightly, slender fingers squeezing into the soft padding of flesh your figure provides. his breath comes quickly and through an alternating mix of gritted teeth and a slack jaw.
you've got the lead, rolling your hips forward and bracing your weight on the couch behind him. the pace is brutal and his cock bullies your insides with each frantic roll of your hips against his. you can feel the way he moves to meet you, desperate and wanting, his chest covered in a slick sheen of sweat. his shirt and your shorts are the only things the two of you managed to take off and the rest of your clothes stick to your bodies as they gather heat.
satoru's hand snakes it's way under your casual t-shirt, kneading the soft flesh of your breast and then delivering a painful pinch to the delicate skin. you shudder, enamored by the wide feel of his palm on your skin and he grins lazily at the easy access. you haven't even worn a bra, how telling.
the expression frustrates you. satoru tilts his head forward a little bit to look at you, delivering a sort of cock-sure grin that makes your cunt throb and your frustration flare. then, he drags his eyes down your body before focusing in on the place where the two of you meet, intensely focused on catching glimpses of the base of his soaked cock and your pretty, parted cunt.
you grit your teeth, leaning up so that you're looming over him and picking up with the aggression of your movement. there's a desperate sense of pressure in your lower abdomen and satoru tilts his head up to look at you as you reorient yourself to be on top of him. you can see the way his lips curl up, wetted by his tongue darting out to lick them. his expression is stiff and pleasure ridden, white eyebrows knitted together and a flush across his features as he looks back down between the two of you. one hand squeezes your breast and the other moves your hips along with you, painful pressure where each finger meets your body.
you take his face in your hand, your fingers sinking into the hollows of his cheek, forcing his expression into a half pout. satoru is forced to look at you and he tears his eyes away from where the two of you meet to rest on your face. they're blue and glassy, watering with whatever desperate, wild emotion this sort of thing brings on. you feel him grit his teeth under your grip and you can't help but grin, tilting your head to the side.
"tell me you want me," you demand, your voice breathy.
"i want you," he says. satoru doesn't even stop to think about it. normally, he might put up a fight, but tonight, you have the power and he admits his desire freely and with a desperate undertone.
"yeah?" you tease, picking up your pace. your breathing comes quickly, it comes as a tell. "how badly?"
"so badly," he grunts, his face still caught in your grip. "so much."
you grin and satoru sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth as your cunt clenches around him and you bore down on him. you feel him twitch inside of you and shudder, bringing your face close to his.
"tell me you love me, satoru," you demand, feeling the way his breath catches in his throat. you don't stop the movement of your hips, teetering on the edge of an orgasm as pleasure mounts in your lower stomach.
satoru grits his teeth and seems to pause at this. his breathing quickens, eyes screwing shut before you deliver a squeeze to his cheeks that tells him to open them.
"come on," you pant. "tell me you love me."
and satoru does.
"i love you," he says on an exhale, the words breeching his lips as if he'd been holding his breath. you clench down around him and satoru says it again, sharper this time and with a whiny undertone. "i love you."
you let go of his face, putting your hands on his shoulders as you creep closer and closer to the edge. satoru's fingers dig into your hips and you feel the way his grip tightens and twitches as he creeps closer. your nails dig little crescents into satoru's upper back, almost begging it to bleed.
with a groan, you push your chest forward and cum over him, your hips twitching as you try and fail to keep up the pace. it takes everything you have not to slam your knees closed in front of you. instead, you press yourself down and against him, raking your nails across his back and you briefly register the sound of satoru's choked moan before you feel him spill inside of you.
there's no pleasure greater than this. there is no better feeling than coming around him with heavy words in the air. satoru's fingers don't let up on your hips and his chest heaves with each breath. they keep you over him and you watch as he leans his head back on the couch and closes his eyes, satisfied with the feeling of plugging you up and spent with the admission (maybe a lie, maybe not) that you dragged out of him.
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hcuyk · 5 months
Text
OUR INFERNO | CHAPTER ONE
SYNOPSIS ✧ despite being your greatest archnemesis/rival/enemy/frenemy/whateverthefuck he was, haechan had always been by your side. that changed when your boyfriend was brought up, creating a newfound rift in your whateverthefuck relationship with haechan
PAIRING ✧ rival!haechan x fem!reader
GENRE ✧ high school au, enemies to fwb, angst, smut, fluff(?), humor(?) (these mfs bicker a lot), pining
WARNINGS ✧ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT — cheating, profanity, mentions of physical fight/bruises, underaged drinking, obsessive/possessive haechan : NSFW TAGS :  outdoor/semipublic sex, dubcon recording, spit/drool/tears, oral and fingering (fem receiving), penetration, scratching/ripping, humping, minimal praise, degradation, sub!hyuck for 0.002 seconds, petnames (princess, good girl, babe/baby, slut)
WORD COUNT ✧ 19k
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≡ [ OUR INFERNO EXCLUSIVE ] @flwoie — fill out the form or comment/send an ask/dm to be added!
. . . . . . OUR INFERNO M.LIST ✩ next [ TWO ]
⋮≡ [ PERMANENT TAGLIST ] @armysantiny @nyujjan @the-kpop-simp @sunwoosberrie (lmk if you prefer to be tagged for both, or for only hyunjae/haechan!) — fill out the form or comment/send an ask/dm to be added!
NCT DREAM MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION
AUTHOR'S NOTE : haechan's version for the original our inferno is finally here! i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3
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PART ONE: CHASING THE SPARK (THE FIRE TETRAHEDRON) — fuel, oxygen, and heat | CHAPTER ONE
“Genuine question.”
“Shoot.”
“Who the fuck does Haechan actually think he is?”
Unphased by your up-and-coming rage rant, Jaemin resumed snacking on the protein bar he had brought with him. He tossed his free arm over the camera equipment and backpacks sitting next to him on the bench, watching you stride back and forth within one of the many hallways in the recreational center. 
“Well, he is your boss.”
“No, he’s the student executive producer,” you corrected, your legs unwavering as you kept a consistent pace to release your frustrations. Jaemin shrugged and tossed one leg over the other, staying relaxed despite the hot fumes emanating from your upright and angered figure. You paused momentarily to look him in the eye. 
“Emphasis on the student,” you clarified.
“Emphasis on the executive, Y/N.”
Baffled at how he was defending your greatest archnemesis (well, more like your greatest frenemy), you ignored his rebuttal and started pacing again. Your steps slowed as you envisioned the sensations you experienced just minutes before, back when you, Jaemin, and Haechan were at the indoor pool to report for your school’s broadcasting channel. Technically, you were the one reporting and filming while Haechan was the subject of interest, and Jaemin was there for physical support. 
Chills latched onto your skin as you remembered what it felt like to have Haechan’s bare torso looming over you, his eyes peering over your shoulder to glance at your footage. While staring at the camera, his gentle, irregular breaths would continuously hit your skin. Water from the pool would trickle down his hair and into your shirt, reaching your backside. When it happened, you could barely comprehend Haechan’s ‘advice’ and instead focused on feeling every cold droplet travel through the crevasses created by your spine. You winced at the thought of that happening again, yet somehow you could still hear his irritating voice near your ear, telling you all the reasons why your B-roll of his lap swimming was ‘trash’ and ‘unusable.’
For a moment, you stood there in the hallway frozen, unsure of how to move, before realizing you were just reliving a moment from earlier and that Haechan was still in the locker room changing.
“I’m going to make a complaint,” you declared, turning back towards Jaemin for his encouragement. Alternatively, you were met with the sight of your best friend completely failing to conceal his judgment and disapproval towards your suggestion.
“Against Haechan? You gotta be kidding, right?”
“Yes,” you answered confidently. “Wait, I mean no, I’m not kidding, but yes, against Haechan.”
Jaemin eyed you skeptically, trying to decipher why you felt threatened enough to report someone like Haechan. You may not have spent all your previous years in high school with an affinity for Haechan, but it wasn’t like you hated him either—not in the way you truly loathed others. If that were the case, you wouldn’t spend nearly every day with him, bickering until the sun chose to set.
“Sure, maybe my B-roll was trash, I can attest to that, but that does not give his bitchass the right to, not only shit on how ‘awful’ I was doing, but also yank the camera out of my hands and delete all the footage I got because they weren’t ‘perfect enough.’ What kind of psycho is that?” You glanced over at Jaemin, trying once again to get him to back you up, but the most he gave was a slight nod. Everything you were spurting was half-mindedly being decoded because he had ended up placing more significance on inhaling protein. Regardless, you continued.
“And you would think, hey! As the student executive producer of a high school broadcasting team, he would understand that no! I indeed do not record half-naked people swimming in a pool, whether it be for a career or a hobby. He should also at least have the decency to not swim seven hundred miles per minute while I’m recording. Of course I’m not going to catch up, especially when he barely told me how he wanted things to be recorded? Isn’t he fucking insane for that? Not to mention all the goddamn splashing because of how fucking long his limbs are—”
“You’re explaining this like I didn’t witness the whole exchange,” Jaemin grumbled.
“And you would think he knows, right? That Mr. Executive-slash-Captain-of-the-Swim-Team should either be more considerate when, A, he’s kicking water in my direction when he’s swimming or, B, station me away from the edge of the pool? Just a thought, but fuck me, I guess.”
“Well yeah, but the—”
“Also! Not to mention the camera has the fucking ability to zoom in, so why was there even a need for me to stand by the pool anyway?” You scoffed at the absurdity, almost tempted to cackle like a villain because of it. “The least he could do was tell me how to record it or find a way to adjust and compromise without occasionally soaking me with water on purpose, which I know damn well he was—”
“That’s just how-”
“We have a tripod, for god’s sake!” you exclaimed. By now, Jaemin had given up on providing you with his input. He opted to rest against the wall, finishing up whatever he had left of the protein bar, and occasionally would roll his eyes.
“But even then, who the fuck wants to see him swim anyway? We’ll probably only need like…what? A minute of the footage for the B-roll? So why the hell is he treating it like it’s about to be nominated by the goddamn Oscars for Best Picture? He just loves to nitpick and control me like a fucking puppet—”
“Keep talking and you’ll potentially strain your throat,” a new voice interrupted.
You jerked around to find Haechan, the culprit of your rant, exiting the locker room with a small duffle bag that contained both his swim gear and his school clothes from earlier in the day. His brown hair was only halfway dry, some strands still stuck to his forehead as he approached where you were pacing.
You halted in your path and stared him down. Haechan immediately caught onto the mood you were in, and instead of being shocked or hurt, he grinned.
“You.” 
Your attempt at threatening him with one word made Haechan laugh.
“Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”
“Oh here we go again,” Jaemin mumbled, tossing the wrapper of the protein bar to the side. He pulled out his phone and went on TikTok, deciding it was more worthy of his attention than listening to you two banter—something he had been experiencing for well over five years.
As a mutual friend of yours and Haechan’s since middle school, Jaemin understood the frenemy dynamic better than either of you. Eventually, over the long years he had known you both, he learned to leave you two be. 
“What about me, though? Are you going to try and tattletale on me?” Haechan feigned sympathy as he gave you an exaggerated pout, tilting his head like a puppy’s. “C’mon. I’m just doing my job.”
“Sorry, but I don’t remember ‘being a dick’ being listed under the requirements for your oh-so-important position of power.” You huffed at him and crossed your arms, choosing to face elsewhere as you rooted the soles of your feet to the ground.
Haechan furrowed his brows, his eyes never leaving you, as he addressed the third party within the shared space.
“Jaemin, was I being a dick, or is Y/N exaggerating?”
Jaemin glanced up at his phone and scrunched his nose at Haechan in annoyance.
“Don’t even try to bring me into whatever…this mess is.”
“No, tell him,” you demanded, now looking at him. Your glare was enough to burn Jaemin into ashes, but it was nothing compared to Haechan’s gaze piercing into your back. Knowing that he never looked away made you shiver, hating how fixated he seemed to be—and seemingly without reason too.
“Listen, I wasn’t being a dick. I was treating you the same way I treat everyone else. I’d honestly argue that you’re just narcissistic and think everything is about you when—”
“Oh wow, thank you for admitting that you’re a dick to everyone else!” You tossed your hands up for dramatic appeal as you spun back around to look at him. He scoffed, but his demeanor was quickly shadowed by a smirk that appeared on his lips, testing you with the arch of his brow.
“Oh really? Do you see anyone else complaining?”
“I’m complaining,” Jaemin muttered.
“People don’t complain because they’re scared of you, Sherlock,” you retorted. At this point, Haechan had already caught onto your bullshit of making evidence up, and it was why this exchange ended up lasting for as long as it did. Nevertheless, his ego continued to build the more you spoke.
“You’re not scared of me?”
And you keep falling for the bait.
“Why should I? You’re nothing.” You approached him and pressed a finger into his chest, taunting him as you stared straight into his eyes.
Suddenly a competition seemed to have materialized because now you both were locking eyes, too stubborn to look away. 
“One day you’ll wake up and realize your position doesn’t mean shit. You take it too seriously and make everyone’s job your job when this should be a learning experience for the rest of us.”
“And who exactly is ‘us,’ babe?”
You narrowed your eyes at him.
“Don’t call me that–”
“And it’s also starting to sound like jealousy to me.” Haechan’s eyes finally shifted, but instead of looking away from you like you initially wanted him to, you trailed his line of sight down to your lips. He eyed them shamelessly—technically making you win the unspoken eye contact competition, but at what cost? “I won’t believe you until I receive firm evidence and testimonies from the other students in the club, then maybe I’ll consider your concerns. Deal?”
What you despised most was how well Haechan knew and provoked you to get under your skin. He was a raging flame, making your blood boil from both irritation and excitement. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but after nearly six years of banter with Haechan, you knew damn well you enjoyed every second of it. It was like a nonstop competition, and you were always on the edge of winning.
Maybe it was also because you were so used to him constantly being above you. He was the president of the student council, the swim team’s captain, and specifically the one who snatched the executive position away from you in the broadcasting team, yet somehow you were still able to compete at his level of arrogance and egotism. 
Even though you may never be able to top him in the foreseeable future, you at least knew how to match his fury—his fire, with your own.
“You’re pathetic.” You took a few steps back to gain some distance while his eyes flickered back up to yours. He bit his lip playfully, his smile only growing even wider.
“Woah, Y/N. Exposing my degradation kink so soon?”
“I-...you- w-what?!” you sputtered, your jaw falling slack as Jaemin’s head snapped up, staring at the two of you in disgust.
“Get a room—!”
“I’m going to make sure you get degraded from your position, you freak!”
“Not exactly how that word works, princess, but I’m glad you’re at least passionate.” His cooing made you want to slap the living shit out of him, your eyes protruding from their sockets are you glared. 
“Are you fucking bricked up or something right now—?”
“Hey guys,” a woman’s voice called out. Your heads turned to look at the end of the hallway, catching one of the recreational center’s workers waving in your general direction. She pressed her lips together and smiled, attempting to be as professional and understanding as possible. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but is it okay if you guys turn it down a notch?”
You and Haechan both nodded and whispered apologies, feeling like kids who just got scolded for shoving paintbrushes down the drain. Fortunately, the worker’s smile radiated genuine warmth and consideration, providing you some sort of reassurance that you guys weren’t too much of a disturbance (even though you guys totally were).
“You two are the most childish fuckers I know,” Jaemin deadpanned, finally shoving his phone away as he switched between looking at you and the man by your side. His eyebrows bunched up.
“And apparently horny too.”
“I would move across the country if it meant I never had to see him again,” you grumbled, striding back to the pile of equipment to pick up your backpack and the bag with all your reporting necessities (boring script, stationary, and a couple of notebooks shared with all the broadcasting students to collect notes and inspiration in). 
“Hello? I’m still here.”
“Look at that. He already misses me.”
“I’m going to hurl,” Jaemin unnecessarily announced, and Haechan’s face soured.
“Ew.”
“Exactly. That’s how you two make me feel whenever you guys are together.” Jaemin got up on his feet and grabbed the wrapper to shove into one of his pockets (no littering, kids) before outstretching his limbs dramatically. 
“I swear I developed back pain from always listening to you guys bicker.”
“Or, hot take,” Haechan interjected, “maybe it’s because you’re always sitting with your back arching forward like it belongs in the Arches National Park–”
“Yeah yeah, shut the fuck up.” Jaemin waved him off with his hand and rolled his eyes. “I came here to help carry stuff, not listen to your bullshit.”
He picked up the bag that contained the camera and passed it to Haechan. He offered to hold one more thing, but with only his backpack and the tripod left, Jaemin didn’t see much need for his friend’s assistance. 
Jaemin then faced you, his face stern and rid of emotion.
“You too, Y/N,” he stated seriously. “None of this ‘he said this,’ ‘he said that,’ ‘please fuck me’ bullshit from you either.”
You gaped at him, arms wrapped tightly around the crew’s bag.
“Now why the hell do you think—”
“Zip it.”
Without giving you much of an opportunity to continue, Jaemin sped off in front of you, ready to leave the building. You couldn’t even look at Haechan as heat rushed to your cheeks, struggling to trail after Jaemin’s speedy steps.
Despite carrying heavier items, Haechan caught up to you with ease. You wanted nothing more than for Haechan’s feet to either slow down or speed up tremendously, but of course he purposely chose to walk by your side, attached to you by the hip.
“He sees it,” Haechan sing-songed. “Everyone sees it.”
“Sees what?” you snorted, oblivious to what he was indicating.
“That you want me,” he replied nonchalantly.
The moment you two stepped outside the doors of the center, you stopped to face him, trying to confirm what exactly he was implying.
“You can’t be serious.”
Haechan, who also stopped with your steps, shrugged.
“You’re the one in denial.”
Realizing that he was serious, you felt every muscle in your body tense up.
“Haechan,” you stated firmly. “I have a boyfriend, remember?”
Instead of receiving something witty from Haechan like normal, his relaxed facial features suddenly scrambled into one that expressed remote shock. His lips were slightly parted, eyes searching yours for any hint that indicated you were lying or messing around with him, but you were serious.
The aggressive playfulness from earlier had evaporated faster than boiling water, and you watched as he became stilled. Your heart started pounding, anxiety creeping up within you due to not being able to read Haechan like you normally do.
“Since when?” he asked. His voice was quiet, his tone firmer, and by now, Jaemin was already by his car, too far from the two of you to understand what was going on. Hell, even you could barely understand what was happening.
“Earth to Haechan?” you joked, nervously laughing in an attempt to eliminate the newfound tension looming in the atmosphere. “It’s always been Yeonjun, remember?”
For a moment, Haechan could feel his mouth drying up. All his thoughts were held captive in his throat, and his lips remained parted as if they weren’t meant to collide at all. He stared at you like you had just teleported in front of him.
“Y/N,” he stated calmly, “he cheated on you.”
Your initial response was to get defensive, claiming that you already knew that because hell, it was your relationship, but then your brain acknowledged the true elephant in the conversation.
“How-...how the hell do you know about that?”
“I- You know word just-…That doesn’t matter. What matters is why in the world—”
“It was a mistake, okay?”
“A mistake?” As Haechan’s brows raised, so did his tone. “You know, people—decent people, don’t make mistakes like that.” 
Seeing how Haechan was gritting his teeth, how his eyes were locked on yours, built up a foreign frustration within you. Something about the way Haechan was behaving felt like he was trying to control you. 
All the rage from before had now returned, yet this time, there was no more leniency from you—not when Haechan was being more condescending than he had ever been.
“You know nothing, Haechan, so frankly, I really don’t care about what you think about my relationship with my boy-”
“You’re still with him??”
“Look,” you snapped. “Just because you have the luxury of crushing my hopes and dreams on a daily basis, it does not give you the right to dictate what’s wrong or right about my love life and my decisions. Understood?”
And just like how you always are, Haechan refused to shut up.
“How is it dictating when it’s common sense to dump a shitty person?” He dropped the bags onto the ground, and not once did he look away from you. “He’s never treated you well either, and you know that—”
“It’s not your decision to make,” you repeated. You could feel the three key elements of creating a fire stir up within you. You had the fuel, the oxygen, and the heat, and Haechan was the chemical chain reaction that would set it off. “How dense can you fucking be to not back down?”
“He cheated on you,” he reasserted, and there was a rage in his eyes that you had never once encountered. “He’s done so many shitty things, and he hasn’t changed–”
“Again, none of your fucking business–”
“And I’m pretty sure I saw—”
“I am not going to repeat myself-”
“Can’t you just listen to what I-”
“Drop it.” You were seconds away from yelling at him, ready to unleash all your anger because never once has someone threatened your love life—Yeonjun, the man you considered your soulmate. Your flame had officially engulfed his, and all Haechan could do was stare at you in disbelief and disappointment.
Turning to look away, you gazed up into the sky and scoffed, not understanding why tears had begun to pool up in your eyes. At the end of the day, Haechan meant nothing to you—you didn’t even consider him a friend.
After moments of experiencing what it was like to be suffocated by a tension so unbearable, you eventually found a way to ground yourself. 
“I can’t blame him, you know,” you whispered, using the back of your hand to wipe away your tears. “We were angry. He just–...he needed an outlet, and at that time, that outlet happened to not be me, okay?”
Haechan stared at you, his mouth desperate to say something, anything, to make you see what he sees—a relationship that isn’t meant to be. That you didn’t deserve to be treated this way. Maybe you were no more than an acquaintance to him, but he knew you have always deserved better. 
“He isn’t someone worth fighting for.”
“And that’s none of your business,” you scowled.
“It isn’t right—”
“Stay in your fucking lane, Hyuck.”
Haechan clamped his mouth shut, and the sight of you completely breaking down tore him apart. Possibly it was all the years you spent together growing up, constantly arguing, yet he knew he was always one to look out for you.
You sucked in a cheek, gnawing at it as your chest urged for you to forgive him, to apologize for lashing out without much notice, but in the end, you prioritized your pride over him.
Not only was Haechan’s persistence a stab to your heart, but you suspected that Jaemin was the one who told him. By spilling your secrets, it was as if Jaemin saw the knife that impaled you and yanked it out of your chest, causing you to bleed to your death.
“I’m done with this conversation,” you muttered, dropping the bag in your arms to the ground by his feet. Your plans had changed to you walking home alone, wanting nothing to do with the other two boys for the next hour or so.
When you turned around to walk away, you knew Haechan was going to try and say something. You knew him best whenever he was at his worst, so you spun around to face him for the last time that day to cut him off.
“Never fucking cross that line with me again, got it?”
And with that, you left. 
//
Jaemin apologized to you the morning after.
He normally drove you to school, and you debated getting into his car when he showed up. Thankfully you chose to do otherwise because the second you stepped inside, Jaemin was apologizing profusely. He talked about how anxious he was all night when Haechan told him what happened, and he wouldn’t have known what to do if you didn’t forgive him. Obviously you did, and the rest of the car ride was spent with him explaining his side of the story.
According to Jaemin, he only told Haechan about how you got cheated on because it seemed like Haechan already knew. As Jaemin recalled the whole scene, you two assessed the signs, such as how Haechan didn’t provide any sort of reaction when Jaemin dropped the news. In fact, it had seemed like Haechan had brought it up to Jaemin instead.
Regardless, it became the last of your worries because all that mattered was that you were back to being on good terms with your best friend.
But avoiding Haechan felt like lighting a match in the rain. 
It was your agonizing reality for the next two months, and although you could argue that you had gotten closer to your boyfriend during the supposed ‘Haechan Drought,’ you were still plagued with him being everywhere around you.
He was in all your classes, and you never truly processed the extent of how involved Haechan had always been throughout high school with you. You weren’t on the swim team, but you were stuck with him during meetings for both the broadcasting team and student council. 
Yet it all felt so different.
Unless he was called on, Haechan would talk much less unprovoked and would never look at you during meetings. When he would address the entire team, he would glance at you for a split second before looking elsewhere, no longer watching you like a hawk.
You had also gotten quieter because without Haechan to banter with, you recognized that you barely had friends in any of those classes either. 
There was no longer a fight between your flames, and you two kept as much distance as possible. You were thankful that there hadn’t been an instance that interrupted that, such as being forced to record more B-roll with him, and you could only hope that the rest of your senior year would remain the same. 
Then you would never have to see him in college.
Now you were back to being the mediocre student that faded into the background. People knew your name at best, but none have ever tried to become your friend aside from Jaemin. No matter how involved you tried to get, the closest you were to anyone was a classmate. 
Haechan had always overshadowed you too, and for the first time in years, you were detached from his fumes—yet somehow, some way, the smoke from his fire would remain in your lungs, continuing to suffocate you even more than it had before. It didn’t give you that breath of fresh air of new friends or a better life; instead, it helped you realize that you didn’t matter. It was a miracle that you even scored Yeonjun as your boyfriend.
But then that begged the question: why did Haechan bother spending his time ridiculing you?
From the very beginning, you had always meant something to him, and you couldn’t pinpoint how or why. When there was no competition in academics, he treated it as if there was. Every time you ranted, he would listen, whether it be about him or something else. Even when you talked about how your chicken from the cafeteria was burnt, he would give you his own before calling you stupid for not noticing until you sat down.
He never shrugged you off like you were nothing or shut you down because your emotions were invalid. He entertained you each time with ease, and most importantly, he knew when to respect your boundaries. Haechan was probably the most mindful person you knew and could often tell when you were distressed or needed another form of reaction from him.
He knew when to stop.
Yet when it came to the one instance involving Yeonjun, he crossed the line multiple times. Why?
“Haechan isn’t here today.”
“Huh?”
“Didn’t show up for a single class.”
Jaemin watched you play with your food with a fork, rolling the cold, barely spherical peas around and into the stale rice.
“That’s not like him,” he replied.
“Yeah.”
“I wonder why.”
“I wonder too.” 
After the driest possible conversation in existence, you sighed and dropped your fork into your tray.
“I need to stop forgetting to pack myself lunch. This shit makes me lose my appetite, I swear. We should call the police and tell them the food they’re serving is illegal and a disgrace to this country.” 
“Keep it away before I lose my appetite too.” 
You didn’t react nor respond to what Jaemin said, letting the conversation rot as you pouted at your food. The cafeteria was unusually louder today, making it easier to space out into thought.
Jaemin took out his sandwich with a wide grin and started eating, grateful he never had to deal with what the school was feeding thanks to his mom, but eventually his eyes shifted over to you. You were unmoving with your gaze locked onto an empty spot on the table, so after moments of debating between asking you what’s wrong and ignoring you to devour his lunch, he opted to set his sandwich aside and stared straight at you.
“Why are you thinking about him?”
That was enough to garner your attention, your head snapping up to stare at your best friend like he was the craziest person you knew for mentioning Haechan, much less suggesting that your mind was wrapped around him.
“What?”
“Haechan. With his perfect attendance, a day without him should be a blessing, yet you brought up how he didn’t show up today and then moped harder than anyone I’ve ever seen mope. You should be over the moon, dancing on the tables and stealing people’s food, not-...” Jaemin waved a finger at you, “whatever this is. You seem out of it.”
“Well it’s not because of Haechan, I’ll tell you that,” you snorted. Your eyes fell back down to your tray, and the more you looked at it, the more nauseous you got. You scrunched your nose. “If anything, it’s probably because of this shit food.”
Jaemin rolled his eyes before tearing his sandwich into halves. You perked at the sight and ogled the half Jaemin taunted you with. You were about to thank him and take it into your possession before Jaemin jerked back his arm, making you whine.
“Throw away your food, then I’ll give you it.”
“Fine,” you grumbled. As Jaemin returned to his delicious, most scrumptious, packed lunch you had ever seen, you picked up your tray and walked it to the nearest trash can. As you dropped the whole thing inside, you heard your name being called.
“Y/N!”
You whipped around to check to see who it was and smiled at the sight of Nagyung waving at you. You wouldn’t consider her a good friend, but you knew her well enough since she was the vice president of the student council.
She ran over to you with a stack of paper in her arms, relieved to have caught you. 
“Y/N, hi! I’m so glad I found you. I was scared I wouldn’t because of how packed it is.”
She flashed you her usual glowing smile, and you noticed that she was a bit more giddy than usual, making you question why she was choosing to talk to you in the first place. All your conversations normally took place before, during, and after student council meetings, so this was slightly out of character.
“What’s up?” you asked. As you looked at her, you noticed how her outfit was slightly more put together than it normally was. She had on a cute top that suited her chest perfectly and a skirt that you had never seen her wear. 
“Your outfit’s really cute today.”
“Really?!” Her bright demeanor then faded into concern. “Wait, is it too noticeable or out of the blue? Is it bad?”
“No, no. Not at all!” you reassured. “It’s just the right amount of perfect.”
“Great! God, that means the world coming from you. It’s because!...” She stopped to glance around, making sure that no one was eavesdropping, before taking a step closer to whisper. “It’s because I was finally asked out on a date by my crush!”
She could barely contain her excitement, holding back a squeal with her bottom lip latched between her teeth. Her sunshine-like energy made you grin.
“That’s great! I’m glad you’re making progress.” Your eyebrows pinched as you tried to recall the last time Nagyung had updated you about her crush. “You’ve been pining after him for so long—whoever ‘him’ is, anyway.”
The question of who Nagyung liked had always gone unanswered. She never told anyone, not even the ones who knew her best, but she loved gushing about her mystery crush to everyone she knew. All people really knew, you included, was how down bad she was.
A part of you wondered if it was someone you knew—someone pretty like Hyunjin or well-known like…Haechan.
“Oh, I wish I could tell you, and maybe I will if things go really well and we become official!” She squealed and hopped in her spot, unable to resist giving you a half-hug with her free arm. “This is so exciting, Y/N!”
“I’m really happy for you.” Your smile was genuine until you thought about why she was looking for you, starting to doubt that she called you over just so she could tell you about her date. 
“I’ll let you know how it goes, swear. But! That aside, I also have something for you.”
You knew it.
Your brows raised, and when you didn’t catch on, she gestured to the papers in her arms with guilt.
“I know this is kind of a dick move, and I’m really really sorry, but I promised to put up fliers for prom today. My date is right after my last class.” Her frown had deepened, and for a split second, you found yourself sympathizing with her because who wanted to let down such a cheerful personality, especially when this was life-changing for her?
“So you want me to do it?”
“Exactly! Please, that would be great. It shouldn’t take too long, too.”
You thought about how you would have to give up an evening of playing on your switch or extra time to study for an upcoming exam, but you knew it was your duty as secretary to help out whenever needed.
Not to mention that it would also make you a decent friend not to hold Nagyung back from her soon-to-be love life despite her poor date planning. If you were in her shoes, you would have wanted her to do the same for you too.
“Sure,” you accepted. “Why not?”
“You’re the best, seriously!” She handed you the fliers as she began to fill you in on the extra details.
“I already told Mr. Barajas that I wasn’t feeling well and that you were going to do it, so he said it all worked out and to not worry about it,” she rambled, happy to give the extra weight (both literally and metaphorically) to you. “I just printed these out, so everything should be perfect to go. Oh, and don’t worry about any extras! Just set them on Barajas’s desk when you’re finished. Haechan will also be in 142 with tape ready for you.”
The mention of the forbidden name nearly made every cell in your body halt. 
“What?”
Nagyung tilted her head at you, confused, before finally realizing.
“Oh crap, I forgot! I’m so sorry, I really did forget you guys weren’t on good terms. I hope it’s okay that he’s helping you out. I mean, he’s supposed to, but it was meant for him and me to do it together, not you two, so…God, I’m really sorry Y/N.”
Before you could even react to the newfound information, she continued.
“I really have to go now. Thank you again! I promise I’ll make it up to you!” And with her rosy pink cheeks and a stunning shade of red on her lips, she basically skipped away and waved goodbye to you with a smile, so you reciprocated it with an awkward one of your own. 
When she turned her back, your smile immediately dropped and you sighed heavily.
“Have fun on your date,” you mumbled, your eyes falling to fliers in your arms. As you skimmed the one on top, you noticed it was to promote going to prom while also including a big QR code to vote for who should be your school’s prom king and queen. You expected it since it was the last meeting’s topic of discussion, but what you weren’t aware of was who were listed as nominees.
There were eight names listed under ‘Prom Court,’ and while you expected Haechan’s, Nagyung’s, and your boyfriend’s names on it, your jaw nearly hit the ground at the sight of your own. 
//
With every passing class period, your anxiety would kick up a notch.
The dread of talking to the face you had been avoiding for two months engulfed you, and it caused you to develop the urge to ditch your current class to go hunt for Jisung, the student council’s historian. You wanted nothing more than to dump the stack of fliers into his arms, and knowing Jisung, he wouldn’t ask any questions. Hell, you were certain that if you asked him nicely, he would do it for you because of how naturally sweet and endearing he was.
But the guilt of ditching your secretary duties kept picking at your skin, and besides, all you had to do was treat Haechan like a colleague. That should be easy, right?
As you suffered through the last few minutes of class and your teacher’s incessant ramblings about the upcoming exam, your thoughts drifted over to what would happen the moment you stepped into room 142.
Haechan hadn’t shown up to a single class all day, yet he was expected to set up fliers after school. As your thoughts snowballed, you arrived at the baseless conclusion that maybe Nagyung wasn’t aware that Haechan was absent today, therefore someone else (like Jisung) would take over. 
Suddenly, your back had straightened with feigned interest in your teacher’s last few words. Something about Jisung being there instead of Haechan had excited you; it felt like you were free and that the universe was listening to your prayers. The gamble of seeing whether it would be Haechan or Jisung (or literally anyone else) had your right leg bouncing, eyes on the clock, and when the bell rang, you shot up from your seat, backpack over your shoulders and fliers in your arms, before dashing out of the classroom.
You sped down the hallway to 142, Mrs. Zhang’s room for Chemistry, bug-eyed, before having your delusions crushed at the sight of Haechan’s stupidly large height leaning against one of the counters. Your feet stood glued to the ground by the doorway, your eyes locked onto him. 
Covered from head to toe in sweats, Haechan was immersed in whatever was on his phone, scrolling through something as his brown waves peeked out from inside his hood. Without any hint of him acknowledging your presence, your shattered hopes slowly began to rebuild.
Maybe if you were quiet enough, you could sneak out with the tape and do everything on your own, avoiding him at all. Actually, scratch that. You didn’t even need the tape. All you had to do was go to another teacher’s room, steal their tape for half an hour, and then return it with ease.
The plan was effortless, and you mentally smacked your forehead for not thinking of it earlier. Right as you were about to execute it, your backpack slammed against the doorframe as you turned on your heels. 
“Nice try.”
You groaned out of embarrassment (and slight pain) and forced yourself to turn around. Haechan’s phone was now face down on the counter, and his arms were crossed over his abdomen. His face remained stoic as his eyes met yours, wielding a tension you didn’t recognize.
Now that you could properly look at him, you noticed a few details that you hadn’t before, such as the small tear on his lower lip and the bandaid on his cheekbone. If you looked long enough, you could catch light patches of purple across his skin, and the sight hindered all your thoughts, your brain too occupied with piecing together how he ended up like this. 
“What happened?” you blurted, your gaze shooting up from his lips to his eyes.
Haechan staggered at your suddenty, but he managed to keep himself stilled, his brows pinching. 
“What do you mean?”
Even if Haechan didn’t mean to, his question became an invitation for your unfiltered thoughts to spill out of your mouth.
“You didn’t show up for any of our classes today,” you began, “but now you’re here? For some stupid fliers? You’re barely dressed properly like you normally are, your hair isn’t straightened, you look pale, Hyuck, and what’s up with the bruises or the bandaid on your cheek–”
“Are you seriously psychoanalyzing me?” he asked with a scoff. There was no humor in his tone. Instead, it looked as if he was irritated, perhaps even more than you were. 
Haechan barely met your eyes, and his arms closed himself off from you. 
“What–?”
“You’re evaluating me like I’m some sort of lab project, Y/N.”
“No, no I’m not,” you rejected. “I’m just saying things are a little off.” You kept your eyes firm on his, even as he pushed himself off the counter with his phone and made his way over to you. “And you know, you really can’t blame me for being somewhat worried when one, you don’t show up, and two, you look like a whole mess—”
“Just hand over the fliers—” he interrupted, gritting his teeth as he outstretched his arm in your direction. You dodged him by turning your body 180 degrees and stood your ground.
“What happened?” you repeated, this time more firmly.
Haechan looked at you, a blank expression on his face, before turning back around to grab the roll of tape left on the teacher’s desk. When he returned, he shoved it into your arms while simultaneously stealing half the stack. You protested with an exclaimed ‘Hey!’ yet he didn’t bat an eye and skimmed over the contents of the flier on top.
Bothered by his lack of response, you frowned and made sure to block the doorway, refusing to let him leave until you received answers.
“Why are you acting like this? Pretending that I’m not even—”
“I’ll do upstairs, you do downstairs,” he muttered.
“Did you get into a fight? Why weren’t you here today? Why are you here now—”
“You’d think you’d know,” he finally answered, pushing past you like you weighed none less than a feather.
Your brain had fully malfunctioned at that point, unable to decipher what he meant as Haechan walked off to the nearest staircase. As his footsteps echoed down the hall, you thought about what he was implying yet came to no resolution. Did he assume that you were caught up in your school’s latest gossip? Or that you were the main admin for his biggest fan page on Instagram?
The idea made you snort, and you scowled bitterly at his childish attitude. It wasn’t like you were a complete stranger intruding on his personal life—hell, you felt like you deserved an explanation because of how you were forced to do this with him. 
As you stormed off past the remaining lingering students to the nearest bulletin board, you questioned how you were going to do this on your own. 
You had put up fliers countless times in the past few years yet never alone. Luckily, you had a general idea of where the fliers should go when it came to the school’s hallways, but as you approached your first destination, you struggled with ripping off pieces of tape while holding the stack at the same time. It would’ve been easier with a partner by your side, one who either did the tape ripping or placing of the fliers, but you weren’t desperate enough to fall into the role of a helpless princess in need of her pretty (useless) prince. 
After some trial and error, you found a method that consisted of setting the stack on the ground occasionally so you could rip off pieces of tape. Then you would slap said pieces of tape onto your wrist, having them readily available as you put up a few fliers at a time.
Although slightly time-consuming, it was working well and kept you at a steady pace until you heard crashing footsteps behind you from afar. Without paying any mind to it, you bit back your curiosity in order to focus on the wall in front of you, but then you made the mistake of taking a step back, bumping into the person who was sprinting. 
You lost your balance and fell forward before catching yourself shortly after. However, the fliers had already flown out of your arms, scattering across and down the long hallway.
Ready to curse out the offender for running down the hallway, you were surprised when you saw that it was Nagyung behind you, pouring out apologies while a loopy grin was smacked onto her face.
You steadied your anger and told her it was okay, getting down onto your knees to collect all the fliers. Her ‘sorry’s could only go so far with her smeared lipstick, a dazed gaze, and her hair holding the mold to someone else’s (presumably her crush’s) hands in them, but you still excused her, knowing that she was over the moon right now.
“It’s okay, Nagyung, I promise.” You forced out a chuckle as you crawled to scavenge for the ones that flew a few feet away.
“I really didn’t mean to,” she pouted, but it was shortly followed up with bubbly giggles. “God, Y/N, can you believe this? Oh, it’s going so well! I think I love him, I do.”
“Good for you,” you grumbled, hoping that she didn’t hear it as you continued to move down the hallway, hating how far the fliers had escaped from you. You also hated how she just stood there without intent on helping you at all. 
“I have to really go now. Got volleyball practice soon, but I think I’m seeing him tomorrow too!” She waved you goodbye.
And just like that, she continued running off. 
You stared at how you were only able to collect half the mess, hating how Nagyung had somehow managed to delay you even further from being in the comfort of your bed. You were also salty at how her date was taking place at the school, wishing she could’ve dragged him around while she taped stuff up before getting dick-downed of some sort.
Deciding that she and her business weren’t worth your time, you continued to pick everything up as quickly as you could, wanting nothing more than to go home.
When you finally finished collecting every last flier, you were prepared to get back into the groove of things before feeling your phone vibrate in the side pocket of your backpack. Wondering if it was something important, you took it out and beamed at the idea of it being a new message from Yeonjun.
Dating him felt like falling in love with him all over again whenever he texted. Your heart would pound in your chest when you thought about him and explode whenever he gave you his attention and time. You were addicted to him, especially knowing that he was yours after liking him since middle school.
So to say you were disappointed was far worse than an understatement. It was from a number you hadn’t saved yet always recognized and undoubtedly remembered by heart.
Of course it was Haechan.
You had Haechan’s phone number due to previous class projects and group chats, but you had never once saved it because you thought he was undeserving of being a contact in your phone. Nonetheless, with how the years have passed and how much his number infiltrates every group chat you were in, it was only fair that your brain had unintentionally memorized all ten digits.
The message he sent consisted of him saying that he was done with the fliers, and you rolled your eyes. Even after the way he treated you earlier, he still chose to let you know and brag about how fast he was. 
You shoved your phone away vigorously, ready to return to your slapping-fliers-on-walls duty, before perking at the sound of footsteps behind you once more.
Automatically assuming it was Nagyung or another student staying after for a club or sport, you were stunned when you heard his voice. 
“You’re not even halfway yet?”
In no fucking universe are you turning around; not for him.
“Go gloat somewhere else,” you snapped. The next flier you taped up was nearly slammed onto the wall, but Haechan was left unphased by your sudden outburst. He stood next to you and remained quiet, even when you left to place the next flier a few feet away on the opposite wall.
When he didn’t follow, you sighed out of relief, yet somehow you couldn’t help but peek at him, eyeing his hands that were tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. He was staring straight at the lopsided flier you had put up, and when you decided you had enough of peering at him, he was back by your side.
 “What are you doing?” you grumbled. He was the one who pushed you away, yet now here he was, glued to your side like how he was two months ago. 
“You’re taking too long.”
“I had a mishap,” you explained, “but that’s none of your concern.” The lines on your forehead bunched up, and you waved him off, bending down to place the stack on the ground. Figuring it wasn’t weird at all, you continued your method of ripping off pieces of tape and slapping it onto your wrist.
And Haechan was totally judging.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Just go home.”
Despite being on the ground and sitting on your heels, you could physically feel the heat on the back of your head due to his eyes burning a hole into your skull, and for a split second, you knew exactly what he was thinking.
“I can do it myself,” you explained. 
“What are you even doing?” 
“Can you just go?” You picked up the stack once again as you rose to your feet, doing your best to avoid whatever look was on Haechan’s face. He was probably stifling a laugh or keeping his expression smug, but when you did cave and peek, his face was still solemn, his eyes on your wrist with concern.
“You’re struggling.”
“Thank you for your observation, Mr. Obvious,” you retorted.
“Let me do it.”
Taken aback, you whipped your head over to his direction.
“You’re kidding.”
“You don’t even want to be here,” he reasoned through gritted teeth. “Just go, and you can thank me later.”
“Thank you?!” Appalled at his audacity, you couldn’t help but laugh out of disbelief. “Seriously, Haechan? You want me to thank you for stealing my job? Again? You can’t be fucking serious.”
“Because you can’t take any criticism ever, or in this case, any form of help, so just let me do it.”
Haechan was eerily calm about the whole ordeal, his energy far from matching yours.
“I do take help,” you refuted. “I just don’t take yours, and neither do I need it, too.”
“You’re so goddamn stubborn.” And within a blink of an eye, he had managed to snatch the stack of fliers from you. 
“Hey!” you yelled, feeling as if it was deja vu from earlier (you really needed to step up your defense), and reached out to take them back, but he was quick to turn his body, shielding them from you.
“Give me the tape and go,” he urged, emotionless. The Haechan in front of you now was someone you truly didn’t recognize because the Haechan you knew would have made fun of you and held the fliers above your head, teasing you for being so weak.
Yet he stood still, creating a barrier between you and the duty that was forced upon you. You didn’t want to be here anyway, yet you were so insistent on making sure Haechan wasn’t stealing your work again. You weren’t incapable, and you hated how he always managed to be faster.
Even now, he was miles away from being playful with you, and yet he still had a way to shove it in your face.
“Haechan, I swear—”
“Give me the tape, and you can run off to your little boyfriend waiting for you by the entrance.” 
Your lips parted at his words, eyes wide as you worked to comprehend his words. You questioned how he knew about Yeonjun’s whereabouts, how he knew that Yeonjun was waiting and that you didn’t, but knowing that he was serious, you reluctantly gave up and dropped the roll of tape on the ground, forcing him to pick it up. 
You were sick of constantly arguing with him, and even if he was lying about Yeonjun, at least you would be away from Haechan. There was no point in fighting for your dignity anymore, not when Haechan’s narcissism was insufferable.
By walking away with heavy and quick strides, you hoped he felt humiliated by how poorly he was treating you—how he had always treated you like this.
As much as you wanted it to be true, you hoped Haechan was lying just so you had more evidence against his self-absorbed and shitty personality, but alas, you found Yeonjun standing precisely where Haechan said he was.
Regardless, all stress and frustrations had lifted from your being, and you called out to your boyfriend with a smile that would make your cheeks ache in minutes. 
“Junnie!” You waved your hands with a small bounce in your steps as you rushed over to him.
Your boyfriend’s head shot up, surprised to see you. His utter shock quickly switches to one of sheer happiness, tucking his device away before opening his arms for you.
“Hey, baby!”
You tossed yourself into his embrace, hugging him tight after pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
“What are you doing here?” With your face in his neck, your voice came out muffled, and it made Yeonjun laugh.
“Had to stay after to discuss my grades with a teacher, then I decided to stay back a bit for you.” He cooed and kissed the top of your head, holding you incredibly close. When you pulled back, his hands had moved from behind your backpack to your hips instead, holding them as you stared up at him.
“You were waiting for me?” you asked, eyes wide with stars in them.
“Of course I was, baby.” 
You were radiating, feeling happier than ever. The last time you saw Yeonjun was a week ago, and with your clashing schedules, you two very rarely get the opportunity to make plans. Your hands rested atop his shoulders, and when he pulled you in for a kiss, you smiled.
But then it fell.
Something felt off.
//
If someone were to inquire Haechan about who his heart belonged to, your name would be his answer—whether he intended to say it or not. 
Haechan had always been considered the school’s favorite. His intelligence may not be up to par with others, but his authority was what made him a prominent member of your high school. Some blame it on his looks, but most were aware enough to know that wasn’t the case.
Haechan knew how to think on his feet, and his problem-solving skills outwitted everyone within his grade level. Reaching tranquillity had never been an issue for him, allowing him to be levelheaded while making decisions. He emitted an aura that made classmates truly listen to him and the ideas he shared, and overall, it made him a great contender to lead every group and organization he was in. 
Additionally, Haechan’s heart was what won over most people. His lack of vulnerability seemed to be his only flaw, but it was an obstacle he could overlook when it came to empathizing with others. By actively being involved in the community through volunteering and holding fundraisers, everyone could recognize Haechan’s devotion to hope for humanity. 
All these traits were what led Haechan up onto the pedestal and the public eye, a household name for all families in the district. Titles and awards naturally gravitated towards him throughout the years, resulting in him winning the vote as president of your school’s student council and enough scholarships to provide him a full ride at most universities.
It was safe to say that competition against Lee Haechan was sparse, and you were no different. 
Your grades would teeter around his standard, hence how you two collectively ended up in the same classes, but aside from that, you had nothing else that could compare to what he was capable of.
Except for one thing; your fury.
There was an inferno inside you at all times, and instead of your body shielding off your heart with steel, people around you would come to find out that your heart was the reason for that large blaze of fire, possessing a passion unlike any other. 
Haechan had never once seen a peer with as much fight as you. It was a trait only you encapsulated, one that you weren’t afraid to express. You stood up for yourself and your beliefs, and it was easy to pick fights with him when he had been troubling you from the very moment you two were assigned to sit next to each other in seventh-grade algebra. 
Haechan yearned for you ever since, his only want being your attention. You gave him the drive to succeed in high school and thrive in his senior year, and he was positive that he wouldn’t be doing this well without a reason to show off in front of you. He wanted your praise, your acknowledgment, but he loved the chase the most. 
Unfortunately, that was the exact reason he ended up here.
The chase was what made him fall for every part of you, wanting nothing more than your lips on his and the ability to have you by his side at all times, but it was also what landed you with your current boyfriend.
It was like his life was a video game with God giving him the hardest difficulty setting by making sure you were obsessed with someone undeserving of all that he wanted. There wasn’t even a chance of you two possibly being friends in your eyes. Meanwhile, Haechan would argue that you two had more chemistry than any other couple in your class, but that hope was crushed, shredded, and stomped on when he found out you still devoted your love to Yeonjun.
Regardless, it didn’t change who you were as a person. Your heart was still just as large and beautiful, and your drive to succeed hadn’t lessened. The bickering never faltered, and it wasn’t like Haechan was opposed whenever you expressed disgust at the thought of him being turned on because of you (and that was because he found the idea of you thinking about him hot—yes, his expectations were that low). 
So it was why after two months of almost zero to no contact, you treating him as if those months didn’t exist created the largest dilemma he had ever faced. He spent the next week thinking about your intentions and why you seemed to care so much, specifically right after when Haechan had willed himself to believe that he meant jackshit to you. You effortlessly toyed with his heart, leaving him in everlasting misery, while you seemed to do completely fine.
What was a typical and ideal lifestyle for you was a nightmare and tormenting hellhole for Haechan. He didn’t just crave the warmth and comfort from your undying flames.
He wanted to burn.
Insanity engulfed him on the days spent without you, leaving him to wonder why you had to make things extensively worse by pointing out his absence or how he had put less effort into his hair. Why did it seem like the concern you expressed was genuine? Why pretend that you cared for him as much as he cared for you?
He was going insane—so insane that he drove to a college party with three other friends in his sedan on a Wednesday night. 
It was being held by a fraternity he and his friends were far more than familiar with thanks to Jaehyun, an upperclassman he met in his sophomore year and remained friends with since then. The beginning of the senior year marked the origin of parties and hook-ups in weak sporadic attempts to get over you. 
At this rate, Haechan could argue that he was more experienced than half of the current college freshmen class. Getting girls in bed was the easiest part; the hardest part was forgetting about you. From what was a method created to move on from you became one that prepared him for when you wanted sex with him. 
But with your constant longing for Yeonjun, Haechan made sure that this party would be different.
Although accustomed to having sex with various women, Haechan had never been one to drink. This was a fact about him that raised eyebrows, specifically Jaehyun’s when he first tried urging Haechan with a drink, but tonight he vowed to change that. He was normally their designated driver, but when Haechan informed Mark of his plan, the elder was more than delighted to remain sober so Haechan could get a taste of alcohol.
“Hey, man! It’s about time!” Jaehyun exclaimed the instant he found out about Haechan’s willingness to drink, pulling a fresh bottle out of the cooler specifically for his friend.
“That’s what I told him!” Mark projected his voice over the music, giving Haechan a supportive pat on the back.
Haechan rolled his eyes at his friends’ remarks and thanked Jaehyun for the beer, hanging around by the counter as the three conversed and caught up. The two laughed at the way Haechan’s face scrunched up at the taste, Mark shoving him lightly with the claim that Haechan was being overdramatic. 
With his earlier mindless decision of tossing on a mesh long-sleeve shirt over his black tank top, Haechan had attracted another partygoer by his side momentarily after his first sip. She wrapped her arms around one of his and inserted herself into the conversation with hopes of getting Haechan in bed by the end of the night, and crazily enough, he considered it for a moment before feeling his phone vibrate in his back pocket.
Normally it would be something he’d ignore, but it remained persistent, signifying that he was receiving a call. He didn’t know who would be calling at this hour—well, aside from Sunwoo and his usual complaints about Haechan partying as a high schooler on a school night. 
After setting the glass down on the counter to grab his phone, any urgency to intoxicate himself as quickly as possible vanished the very second he saw your name glowing on his screen. With an awkward retraction of his arm and a forced cough, Haechan excused himself and answered the call.
“Hello?”
With music pounding inside his ear canals, it was expected that he couldn’t hear anything you were saying. He navigated through various crowds to reach the entrance of the house, his heart replicating the booming vibrations from the loudspeakers as he prayed that you wouldn’t hang up on him.
“Okay, I…I should be free now,” he stammered after stepping outside. The sudden stillness of Mother Nature was a drastic change from the party scene, coercing him to focus on his racing heartbeat and the anxiety accumulating in his tightening chest. He was breathing heavily, both from pushing through people in a rush and also because of you. 
You never failed to render him weak and helpless, leaving him like a puppy longing for their owner’s guidance.
There was a silence, but he could hear your gentle breaths hitting your phone.
“I need a ride.”
Haechan blinked, his body tensing up, as the many thoughts in his brain scrambled to make meaning of what you meant. However, it didn’t matter because you hung up shortly after, leaving him alone to revel in your words.
Your bluntness and suddenty made Haechan malfunction, his thoughts leading him to question if he had even heard you correctly. Rarely did you ever reach out to him, and what could you need him for? Especially after lashing out at him and ignoring him for two months? Of course, there was that one day a week ago when you two were forced to talk together, the day he was given a one-day suspension, but you two returned to treating each other like strangers like it was natural.
He stared at his phone in hopes of receiving more information, that you’d perhaps call again to reconfirm or say you had the wrong number. He felt like he was dreaming—that the person he had wanted for so long needed him for once, but he couldn’t help but also believe that this may be the beginning of another nightmare. 
But it was you, and Haechan was willing to risk it.
After checking his call logs to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, he rushed back into the fraternity house, thankful he didn’t proceed with drinking any more than he did. 
He found everyone exactly where he had left them (the girl included) and announced his departure. The girl made sure Haechan knew how disappointed she was, but that was his last concern as he grabbed the beer bottle and handed it to Mark, giving him a pat on the back.
“Drink up and find an Uber.”
“No fucking way you’re leaving us this soon, man.” Jaehyun shook his head in disapproval, his forearms resting against the countertop.
“Another time, I promise, yeah?” Haechan started walking away, waving to them as his heart continued to thrum in his chest.
“He’s lying,” Mark snorted, taking a swig before bidding Haechan a bitter goodbye. “You owe me!"
Haechan ran out of the house, his legs making quick and long strides as he ran to his parked car down the block. His newfound adrenaline made him think about what he was sacrificing to be with you. Was leaving the party and betraying his friends worth spending even a second with you? What if you were asking him to drive you and your boyfriend somewhere? Could his heart even deal with being used like that?
But as much as Haechan hated it, he knew he was making the right choice. The self-respect he had for himself was buried six feet deep beneath the surface of the earth when it came to you. 
God, he really hoped he wasn’t hallucinating.
For a split second, Haechan truly debated what he was doing after getting into his car. He was already driving, but he didn’t know where to go. Luckily, it didn’t take you long to send him a text with your location, and it was a place he was familiar with. 
It was a park that he often frequented as a kid since it resided by his old neighborhood, and he was thankful he knew exactly where to go because he knew he would’ve definitely crashed the car while pulling up your location on his GPS. Haechan was doubtful it was the alcohol in his system making his fingers shake and his mind uneasy. He blamed you for his hysteria, one that had developed over years of endless longing. 
Luckily the drive wasn’t long thanks to the roads being mainly void of other vehicles (and maybe he did speed a few times, but he considered it justified). Before pulling into the parking lot, he spotted a lone figure curled up on a nearby bench. A small weight had been lifted off of him, relieved it was just you, and he parked aimlessly while his eyes rested on you.
You seemed unphased by his added presence, your arms unmoving as they stayed wrapped around your legs. The bench you were sitting in was facing away from the parking lot, but with his headlights illuminating the view in front of you, you certainly had to know he was there. 
In an ideal world, Haechan would leave his car, join you by your side, and, if he was lucky, he’d pull you into his arms and hold you close against his chest. He wanted to be there for you in whatever way he could, but he ended up being a deer in headlights, too afraid to make the wrong move and lose you again.
He sat there for a minute, watching you, and as soon as he received the confidence to reach for the handle of his door, you were up on your feet. His fingers paused midair as he traced your movements, his arm eventually falling to his side as you approach his car. 
Despite how slow his mind was working, Haechan knew to unlock the car right as you opened it (he would’ve died out of embarrassment if he had forgotten), and neither of you greeted the other.
Without any explanation from you, Haechan refrained from staring at you like he normally would, but your outfit made it incredibly difficult. It wasn’t much, just an oversized long-sleeved shirt that reached your thighs, but it was far from the usual clothes he’d seen you wear, like jeans and a nice-fitting blouse. For a moment, he believed you had no pants on, but then he knocked some sense into himself, realizing that you were probably wearing shorts that were hidden.
While Haechan attempted to keep his composure and respect your boundaries, you were eyeing him shamelessly, once again analyzing every detail about him. Beads of sweat pooled up on the back of his neck, and his hair was straightened yet fuzzy. As your eyes trailed downwards, you noticed how the mesh hugged his biceps, catching every crease that defined his muscles. He was quiet, his index finger resting against his lips. 
Where did he even come from?
And why was he so quick to listen?
You held back your tongue from dumping out your thoughts, knowing your questions would end up unanswered like before. Your body instinctively rested against the divot between the car door and your seat, keeping your distance from Haechan. He was meant to be a stranger, perhaps someone you loathed, yet there was an odd comfort that encased you from him just sharing the same air as you.
You cleared your throat, turning your head to look away when he flinched and snapped his gaze towards you.
“Drive.”
Your demand was no louder than a whisper, but Haechan picked it up effortlessly and was already backing out.
“Where to?”
“Anywhere.” Haechan raised a brow at your answer, and you buried yourself further into his seat, directing your gaze out the door. “Just-...anywhere, Hyuck.”
The nickname had his throat tightening and his chest leaping, nodding in your direction as he drove on autopilot. With no destination in mind, he strolled through familiar roads, his fingers tapping against the wheel. 
You stayed silent, creating a tension that was unbearably thick, yet none of you felt the need to leave; neither of you wanted to leave the other, even if it meant having to deal with the looming elephant in the room (or in this case, Haechan’s car).
After spotting the recreational center from afar and its empty parking lot, he instinctively pulled in. There wasn’t a proper explanation for why he decided it’d make a great destination, especially when it was the place that created a rift in your relationship with him, but it felt right.
It was empty, open, and serene—a perfect place to stay as the moon shined.
Haechan stepped out of the car after parking in the middle of it, and when you didn’t follow, he moved to your side and opened the door. He was hesitant but took the risk of offering his hand to you, a warm, nervous smile on his face. He wanted you to know he was there to listen, to be there for you, because, Lord, he would hand you the world if he could.
“I’m not in the mood for walking,” you mumbled, but Haechan shook his head.
“We’re not going to walk, I promise.”
Your eyes flickered up to his briefly, skeptical of what he had planned, but ultimately caved. You ignored his hand, and he pulled it back with regret. When you stood there, your eyes on the sky, he closed the door behind you and guided you to the hood of his car.
Without a second thought, he sat on top of it and gestured for you to do the same.
“I sit here all the time. Helps me think.” He leaned back against his windshield, his hands holding the back of his head as he kept his eyes on the sky. When you didn’t move, he started to feel stupid, wondering if you two were better off in the car, but then you joined him. 
You copied his position, staring upwards as your hands rested over your abdomen. 
Haechan opted to keep to himself, deciding that he didn’t want to make this worse for the two of you. Instead, he fixated his thoughts on the stars in the sky.
There were only a few, but it was a rare sight due to the constant air pollution in your city, so he considered it a miracle. You, on the other hand, were spacing out in thought, and Haechan could tell through his occasional peeks. Without much control, his eyes started tracing down your arms. They then landed on where the hem of your shirt rested, now looking at your bare thighs.
Feeling as if he just reverted back to being the shyest virgin in the country, he gulped and immediately looked elsewhere, trying to get you off his mind despite you being right next to him. His racing heart was all that he could hear, and now he wondered if you could hear it too—if you knew how much you affected him.
And your voice broke the silence.
“How long have you known?”
Okay, maybe his brain did fall out of his skull because Haechan had no idea what you were talking about. He turned his head and caught how you stared up at the sky. Your eyes were glossy, holding the reflections of the whole galaxy within them. They sparkled, and for a beat, Haechan had forgotten your question, too infatuated with your beauty. 
His silence resulted in you turning your head, gaze meeting his, and that was when he noticed the tears.
“About Yeonjun and Nagyung.”
Your light, your flames, his burning desire; all were gone in a flash.
Your voice was delicate, and Haechan knew that with one move, he could break you.
Directing his gaze heavenward, Haechan sighed and brought his arms down to rest over his chest. Somehow he was able to feel all the pain you were experiencing, his heart twisting while his stomach churned and sloshed around in his body. He thought about how to respond as he chewed on the inside of his lip, questioning if he should answer at all to avoid hurting you.
But you asked, and as always, Haechan delivered.
“I don’t think I ever really knew until last week,” he explained, “but I could always tell.” Suddenly, the fight from a week ago had resurrected, and Haechan was forced to relive it all.
The hallways were empty when Haechan left the broadcasting room, a backpack strap slung over his shoulder while the other dangled behind him. He was in the middle of scrolling through his emails when he picked up on the sound of Yeonjun’s voice around the corner. 
His footsteps halted, and Haechan caught Yeonjun’s fatal words.
“How does tomorrow sound?”
Nagyung’s squeals followed after, and Haechan stood motionless.
At first, Haechan had no thoughts circulating in his brain, but after hearing their lips collide, he started coming up with solutions, such as interrupting or taking a video to send to you. Unfortunately, before he could act on either of them, he heard footsteps dashing off, practically skipping, as the two bidded one another goodbye. 
Haechan couldn’t pinpoint the reasoning behind his upcoming actions, but he knew how to describe how he felt. 
Anger was the first and only emotion to surge up within him, his fingers instinctively balling up into fists. His muscles had tightened while a forest fire ran rampant through his veins, causing his blood to boil. 
Then with quick strides, Haechan shoved his phone away and made a sharp turn around the corner, tossing his backpack on the ground after spotting Yeonjun against the lockers. The latter had a dazed look on his face, his lips curled into a smirk as he typed away on his phone, but that was changed once he looked up at the sound of Haechan’s backpack crashing against the ground in front of him.
There wasn’t a second in between Yeonjun’s face of surprise and Haechan’s arm being raised, and before Yeonjun could react, Haechan’s fist had slammed into his jaw. 
It was a blur from there, but Haechan knew he had won even after authorities dragged him off Yeonjun’s body. He had received a few jabs in return, but it was nothing compared to the black eye Haechan gave him.
The fact that Yeonjun managed to cover it up with makeup the day after was a miracle, and no one in the school knew about the fight since it happened after school. Haechan wanted it to stay that way, but a selfish, cruel part of him wished that everyone knew how sick your boyfriend was.
Well, now he was unsure if he was still your boyfriend. 
Haechan turned his head back towards you, his cheek meeting the cold metal of his car.
You pursed your lips at his response and nodded slowly. If it were any other day, you wouldn’t have believed him. There was no universe where you’d choose to listen to Haechan over Yeonjun, but after a week of investigating and getting your head out of your ass, you found out on your own terms, and all the pieces made sense.
“I didn’t mean to.”
Haechan’s voice jerked you out of your thoughts, and as you adjusted to look back at him, you were surprised to still find him staring at you.
“I’m not a violent person, Y/N,” he whispered, an enduring hope lingering in his eyes. He wanted you to believe him, and for once, you did; you truly understood the man you hated most.
“I know, Hyuck.”
Haechan eased at your words, and the two of you fell back into a more comfortable yet aching silence. His fingers drummed against his abdomen, and after a while, he got sick of looking at the same four stars, so he closed his eyes, focusing on enjoying the light breeze instead. His heart was still racing, but it was less alarming. Regardless, he hated knowing that he potentially contributed to how much you were hurting right now.
Maybe if he had done something to prevent it earlier, whether it be telling you as soon as he found out or keeping completely out of your business so you could live in bliss, or, if he wasn’t so scared, he could’ve asked you to be his far before Yeonjun had. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed much, but Haechan would never know since he never tried, and now he was going to beat himself over it because now you’re devastated over losing your boyfriend and it was potentially his faul—
You laughed.
Haechan snapped his head towards you, his brows raised at your sudden change in mood—but it wasn’t the type of laugh he expected. Your laugh was one filled with pain, and he watched you shake your head, trying to refuse the tears that were rapidly welling up in your eyes once more. You sniffed and wiped the tears away with the back of your hand, choosing to look in the opposite direction because the last thing you wanted was for Haechan to see you vulnerable.
“It’s stupid,” you murmured. “This entire thing is stupid. I’m so fucking dumb.”
His lips parted to interject, to tell you that you were, in fact, ‘not dumb,’ but he clamped his mouth shut, knowing that his words probably wouldn’t help. From what he’d learned in the past, you liked it least when he tried telling you otherwise, no matter the situation. 
“I should’ve known. I did know. The whole world knew. Even you knew, but it makes me think, was Nagyung just flocking around, flaunting to everyone that she had a crush on my boyfriend and managed to win him over? I just—I…I don’t know-...” You paused to catch your breath, beginning to choke on your tears as your chest shook, “I don’t know what I did wrong, you know?”
You shut your eyes, allowing the pain to engulf you. You knew fully well that your punishment was to deal with the pain, but you felt like you didn’t deserve it—that you deserved none of this. Why was this a penalty for being in love?
It was humiliating having everyone witness the reality you shielded from yourself, choosing hope and love over the truth. 
“I just never felt more stupid in my life, and I feel even more stupid knowing that I still love him.”
Haechan sucked in his lips, gnawing on them as he bit back all his feelings, from his brain shredding to his heart weeping.
“I love him so much that I would let him do it to me all over again because I keep thinking he’d be better. I know he can be better, so why-...It’s just- Why do I do this to myself?”
Tears cascaded down your cheeks, each one leaving behind a trail for others to fall. They started pouring out of you rapidly, soon sobbing at the heart-wrenching pain of being betrayed by everyone in your life, Haechan included, because why, out of everyone, was he here for you when he should be the last person who cared?
You always wanted Haechan to be the antagonist of your life story, to have him as your biggest enemy and threat, so why was everyone else but him hurting you? Why was the villain of your fantasy taking the role of your knight in shining armor?
And yet, as much as it pained Haechan to process all your emotions, his mind wasn’t running correctly; he had you alone for the first time in months. He wanted nothing more than to pull you in his arms and whisper words of comfort in your ears, knowing you deserved it more than anyone, but he also wanted to shake you awake and slap you out of your misery, praying that you’d forget about Yeonjun; that right now, you being vulnerable was his chance to swoop in, to set whatever you wanted him to into flames, as long as if it meant you’d end up okay. 
You sat up because if you lied down any longer, you would’ve started drowning in your own tears. Your sleeves were soaked, and he sat up alongside you, figuring that he should do something about it.
Haechan got back onto his feet and stood in front of you. He barely knew what he was doing, but that didn’t stop him from replacing your sleeves with his cold, clammy hands over your cheeks. There wasn’t a time that Haechan could recall where he had been this gentle with someone, and when you didn’t push him away, he tilted your head up to look at him.
Even with tears running down your cheeks, you looked angelic as ever. 
Each droplet mirrored a star from the sky, and your eyes sparkled as they stayed locked on his.
“Take me,” you whispered, and Haechan’s whole world stopped. 
“...What?” Haechan had only intended to wipe your tears away with the pads of his hands, perhaps whisper something along the lines of him being here for you for the night (and the rest of his life, let’s be honest), yet your first words were—no, he had to have been hallucinating.
Your hands trembled as they reached for his wrist, and although you were severely broken, the grip your fingers created was firm.
“Please.”
Like a moth to a flame, Haechan admired how pretty you looked, your lips plump and eyes wide, and he wanted nothing more than to take you into his backseat and treat you the way he’d always wanted to, especially after hearing your pleas, but he knew better. You both knew better. 
“What exactly are you implying?” he asked, feeling like you had just inhaled all his oxygen and left him breathless. 
You released his wrist and opted to hold onto his sleeve, tugging on it as you tried to get him to understand you.
“I want it to hurt, Donghyuck.”
Your tears were gone, and there was a hint of dominance in your tone that would’ve had him dropped to his knees in front of you. You were also one of the very few who resorted to calling him Hyuck, and now his actual name. He favored Haechan, but after hearing ‘Donghyuck’ from your lips, his preference had completely made a turnaround. 
But Haechan worked to collect his thoughts, fully aware that this was wrong and he’d have to be the bigger person here. As much as he hated himself for giving up the perfect opportunity to have the girl of his dreams, he couldn’t ignore the large concern over your current mental state.
“You’re not thinking straight, Y/N,” he reasoned softly, his fingers reaching up to brush your hair out of your face, and for a second, Haechan swore he felt the alcohol kicking in—or perhaps it was you instead. The thought of being able to have you right now, to touch you and press his hands over your skin, to have you as his for just this night, was so intoxicating that he was seconds away from foaming at the mouth.
“I don’t need to think straight. I don’t want to think at all.”
Everything felt hotter and tighter, but he kept his composure, though with his eyes dropping to your begging lips and then your delicate fingers, he knew he was beginning to lose whatever was left of his sanity. 
But he also knew you were using him; you had to be. There was no other explanation. It was only minutes ago when you professed how you continued to feel about Yeonjun—that your heart still belonged to him, and Haechan was allowed nowhere near it. He was your backup, your second option, yet that happened to be better than nothing, right?
Especially when he could have you right here, right now. 
“You’re using me.”
Your expression didn’t falter.
“Then say no. Make us go back into your car and drive me home.” Your hand dropped from holding onto his sleeve but that was so you could wrap your arms around his neck, slowly bringing yourself closer to him. His cheeks were flushed as his mind flooded with possibilities of what could happen. Never had you ever wanted him, and he’d been dreaming of a moment like this for years. Your tear-stained cheeks, your pouty red lips—he wanted all of you.
“But you won’t,” you whispered, your breath hitting his skin. Your eyes landed on his lips, now craving him as much as he craved you. You needed a release, an outlet, to justify Yeonjun being better than Haechan. Haechan was worse in every way possible, and you wanted him to prove that to you. “You’d do anything I’d say, wouldn’t you?”
“What makes you say that?” Little did you know Haechan was crumbling inside, completely melting as his fingers grew weak at the idea of your lips on his. His hands, although wary, traveled to your waist, feeling your curves before trailing his hands down to your hips to grip them.
“You love me, don’t you?”
His heart stuttered, all words caught up in his throat, but he knew there was no defending himself—not when he was practically drooling at every move you made; he was hyperaware of the hand playing with the hair on his nape, the way your lips nearly hovered over his, and how your tears glistened under the moonlight.
His entire existence was confirmation of your words, and you knew it.
“You’d do anything for me, Hyuck. What’s stopping you now?”
There was a stillness as you two stared at one another. He swallowed and pulled slightly back.
He knew better.
“You don’t want me.” He was brokenhearted, a part of him understanding that you’d never be his, yet he wanted you in so many ways, wishing to have your mewls fill his ears and the smell of sex staining his clothes. The bulge in his pants was forming and pressing up against the tight confinement, making him groan. 
He dropped his head downwards, his forehead leaning to rest against yours, as he closed his eyes and did his best to regulate his breathing—repeating in his head and out loud, again.
He knew better.
“You’re using me.”
You both knew better.
Yet with your lips ghosting his and your eyes half-hooded, you were prepared to give into the dark side.
“And I say take advantage of it.”
Haechan dived and pressed his lips onto yours, hunger driving his every movement. There was no stopping when he felt your lips curling up into a grin, his hands shifting to wrap around your torso to drag you closer. His heart burst at how perfectly his lips molded with yours, and it seemed as if there was fire shooting up into the sky and exploding—they weren’t fireworks, and the explosion was far bigger and more dangerous. It lit the entirety of the sky, the moon and stars included, into flames, a desire unlike any other.
Your left hand pressed firm against the back of his neck while the other traveled through his hair. Meanwhile, his hands had snuck beneath your shirt and felt for your lower back. Heavy breaths left the two of you as desperation crept through your veins, dictating your every movement. 
The cold touch from his hands ignited your nervous system, every sense activated and overstimulated by Haechan as you released a breathy moan into his mouth.
You didn’t want him, but fuck, you needed him.
When you would pull back, his lips would chase yours, and you two fell into an endless cycle. He couldn’t even fathom how you were pulling away for air when you were his oxygen. Maybe you weren’t oxygen itself, but the fumes you emitted had already replaced his need for air, deluding him into believing that you were what he needed to stay alive.
You were suffocating, toxic, and destructive, and he wanted more. 
After retracting from the kiss for the nth time, you turned your head to hold Haechan back from continuing. You both were panting, your cunt soaking, and he stared into your eyes like a puppy awaiting their next direction.
“Good boy,” you praised, and he laughed lowly and sheepishly, dropping his head as he processed what happened and the idea of it being potentially over. 
“You’re lethal,” he breathed out.
“And you’re pitiful,” you spat. There was a playful grin on your lips, but those words ignited something within Haechan. He raised his head and cocked a brow at you, questioning your genuinity. 
Just minutes ago you were crying over a guy that treated you terribly, and yet here you thought you had the authority to call him weak.
Perhaps he was; he was falling deeper into your pitless trap, enticed with every movement of yours, but he knew for a fact you weren’t any better than him.
You both were sick in the head for falling for people that treated the other like shit, yet your drive, your fuel, to win over the hearts of the people you loved was so strong, and it made you two unstoppable. 
Haechan would punch Yeonjun all over again if he could. 
Without a second thought, Haechan ducked his head down and ruthlessly attached his lips to your neck, eliciting a gasp from you. He kissed your skin fervently, his fingers teasing the rim of your shorts, and your hands shifted to hold onto his shoulders for support. You found yourself tossing your head back, providing him more room to do as he pleased, that if Yeonjun were to see you with marks on your neck, then maybe he’d want you back. 
“Bold of you to call me pitiful,” he grumbled, sucking onto your neck until a blot of purple began to form.
“But it’s true, no?”
“You’re just as bad, Y/N.” He licked a stripe up your neck and over the mark, and the sensation made you cringe, disgust itching at your skin due to being covered in his saliva, but you wanted more of it. You wanted Haechan to treat you like you were nothing, to treat you worse than Yeonjun ever had, so you could direct your blame over to Haechan instead of your unknowing boyfriend.
You turned your head and slotted your lips with his again, already addicted to how perfect they were for you. Haechan knew the exact way to kiss you, to keep you on your toes, as your slick pooled up in your underwear at the mere thought of Haechan touching you.
The kiss was eager, a fight for control, and when Haechan didn’t surrender, you raised your knee, forcing your thigh to brush up against his crotch.
He gasped at the sensation and pulled away, bangs hanging over his eyes as he looked down at the sight. You teased him by keeping your touches gentle, but you made sure to keep your leg moving. Nothing intrigued you more than seeing Haechan beg or rut against your thigh, further proof of how pathetic he was for you. You gained a sense of ego knowing that he could have any girl in the world, that he has had every girl, and yet he would always come back to you. Now that you had him, it would be harder for him to return to a life without you under him, moaning his name.
You wanted to be his downfall. 
Your nails latched onto the mesh, taking note of how easily it would be to rip the material, before pressing your thigh firmly up against his dick, making him jerk.
“You’re-...oh my god, Y/N,” he gasped, breathless. His eyes meet your devious ones, how you were basically Satan himself, and somehow, someway, he wouldn’t ask for anything different. “You’re playing a losing…a losing- game.”
“What more do I have left to lose?” There was some truth in your words as vulnerability struck you. Your leg then lowered as you regained a slight sense of reality, realizing that you were forcing Haechan into being your selfish source of relief. You hated Haechan, sure, but you knew this was the last thing he deserved—to use him when he’d been nothing but accommodating to you.
And your sick and twisted plan was that after this encounter, you’d leave him to rot.
Haechan didn’t deserve that at all. 
But Haechan was already too far gone, too intoxicated, to even consider the repercussions of how he’d end up after this. The loss of contact with his crotch was what had him picking you up from his car, the tips of his fingers digging into your thighs, as he led you to the backseat. 
Your eyes widened, your senses fully back, but you made him like this, and you were going to pay for it. Although scared for about what’s to come, the anticipation had you drooling, your lips pressing fierce kisses onto his skin while he opened the door with you in his arms.
He laid you down gently and crawled over you, keeping you trapped between his arms.
“This is what you wanted, right? For me to tear you apart until you can run back to Yeonjun and justify how poorly he treats you?” 
Your brows bunched up at his words, your legs getting antsy being under him. There was no answering him, not when Haechan already knew how you were going to respond.
He brought one of his hands into your shorts and made the aggravating decision to slide his fingers over your underwear, depriving you of contact with his fingers.
Yet even with your underwear being a divider, he found your clit with ease and immediately started rubbing circles into the bud, making you buck your hips with a whine. The friction of the cloth was something you were unfamiliar with, and lord did it mess with you. 
“You want me to treat you how he sees you? Worthless and undeserving of respect?” He flicked your clit and kissed your jaw. “If that’s what you want, that’s exactly what my princess is going to get.”
“Fuck,” you moaned, using your hands to push onto his shoulders and force him down. The drive to ride his tongue was strong, and if he kept teasing you, you would have lost it.
“I know you inside and out, Y/N. I know you better than him, and this is how you treat me.” He sucked in a cheek but ultimately decided to comply with what you wanted. He pulled off your shorts yet left your underwear on, and his brows raised. He wasn’t sure how his fingers had missed the texture of lace, but what you were wearing was certainly lingerie.
You looked down to see why he stopped, and when you realized why he froze, heat rose to your cheeks.
“I wanted to feel pretty,” you whispered, shutting your eyes after turning your head. It was embarrassing, now that you thought about it, but Haechan’s heart soared, and he wanted nothing more than for you to know how ethereal you looked.
But he shoved the feeling away, allowing his frustrations to get the better half of him. 
When he pulled off your underwear, he cooed at how your essence oozed onto the material and raised the undergarment into the air, waiting for you to look.
“Did I do this?”
His mocking tone kept you from looking, but your curiosity got the best of you. You were met with the sight of a large wet, dark patch on your underwear, biting down on your lip as you looked at him with wide eyes. If you thought about it, you couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this, or if there ever had been a time when you craved someone this badly. 
He tossed it to the side and his hands massaged your thighs, keeping them spread open so he got a proper view of your core on display for him. The sight truly stunned him, reminding him that this was you he fantasized about and replicated with other girls—no one else.
“Do you normally take this long?” you rasped, tossing your head back against the seat, and Haechan rolled his eyes.
“I do you a favor, and this is how you treat me.”
“A favor is a stretch—”
Haechan plunged two fingers into your mouth, having them press firmly down against your tongue. He latched onto your jaw and pulled your head forward and up towards him, having your eyes meet his.
“Remind me, Y/N, who was begging for this?”
He dropped your head back down against the seat before you could even respond and used whatever saliva accumulated in your mouth as temporary lube, figuring that your slick would help him with stretching you out. You grunted at the impact, feeling helpless, as Haechan finally inserted his fingers inside of you. 
Haechan’s fingers were enough to have your eyes rolling, but it was the ring that he wore that stimulated you the most. You weren’t aware that he was even wearing one, yet the cold band against your raging wet heat made you whimper and desperately grasp for his hair.
“Donghyuck, please,” you begged. 
He chuckled and kept his movements slow, forcing you to fuck yourself onto his fingers weakly. When you did, he was in awe at how stunning you looked, how you seemed to be in your own world, and how you were enjoying him. By curling his fingers, a moan was pulled from your throat, making your eyes open as you looked at him. You continued to pool around his fingers, your voice weakly begging for so much more than his fingers and the cold air that brushed against your skin. 
Never had you felt more vulnerable, but Haechan never once made you feel like you were doing something wrong, making you cling desperately to him. You forced his face down into your crotch and jerked at the feeling of his nose brushing up against your clit.
“Shameless, aren’t you?” he commented, laughing lowly, but you were too out of it to care. 
“Shut the-...F-fuck, oh my god.”
Your whines had gotten more incessant the more useless he became, his fingers now completely stilled inside of you as he watched you roll your hips with a cheeky grin. He wanted to drag this out for as long as possible, knowing fully well that he could last all night. 
When he took out his fingers, you were yanked out of your bliss and nearly begged for him to put them back in, but before you could get a word out, he had replaced his digits with his tongue. Your slick was dripping onto his lips, and as he dragged his wet muscle up and down your folds, he made sure to collect a small puddle of you onto his tongue to eventually swallow, wanting to savor you. 
“Oh-...Oh my god, Hyuck—” Your orgasm was approaching, unsure of how it was here so soon, but you recognized the signs from the coil in your chest tightening to losing every sensation to the man beneath you. You rocked your hips continuously onto his tongue, and his thumb attached to your clit, making you see stars with how rapid his movements were. 
He pulled his face back and forced his fingers back into you, and the final curl was what made you reach your peak, your hips in the air as you cried out his name. 
As you came down from your high, you caught a glance of the way Haechan was looking at you; to him, you were otherworldly, and it was a sight he’d never forget. He wondered if Yeonjun ever saw you like this, if he ever made you feel this way, and suddenly his admiration had soured and contoured to something of darkness, rid of any empathy as he now looked at you with some form of disgust. 
“All this for me, and you still have the fucking audacity to choose him.” 
The mention of Yeonjun had your eyes wide open, tears reappearing at the mention and while being in your most vulnerable state. Your legs shook from the aftermath, feeling too weak to continue, yet Haechan seemed to have other plans.
Instead of shoving his fingers back into either of your mouths, he hovered over you and made sure you saw the way he dragged his fingers around your abdomen, drawing aimlessly over your skin with your essence before dragging a hand up to your breasts, massaging one of them as his other hand rested by your waist.
“Tell me, Y/N, did you buy this for him and never got to use it? That’s why you’re wearing it now with me? Am I your sloppy seconds?”
There was a slight growl under his tone, and while you shook your head subconsciously, he worked to remove your shirt, wanting a better look at your bra, before being met with a necklace you had been hiding; one with Yeonjun’s name.
And Haechan took no time breaking it from your neck.
Your jaw dropped, and you snapped out of your daze by sitting straight up, yet as you were about to yell at him for breaking your necklace, he shoved three fingers back into your pussy, shutting you up by having you moan at the intrusion. 
“It looked cheap, anyway,” he muttered, forcing his mouth against yours momentarily to nip on your lower lip, tugging on it so your focus remained on him. 
“That was—he’s mine,” you forced out, gasping at every thrust he made with his fingers, your sweet spot being abused as your hands latched onto his shoulders. You made sure your nails dug into his skin, wanting it to hurt, before pulling onto the mesh, wishing for it to tear. 
“He’s not yours, princess. Tell me, how can you say that when his dick has been up other girls?” With his free hand, he grabbed your face and made sure you were staring straight at him before shoving it to the side. 
“You need to fucking wake up and realize that you can dream all you want about how he’d react if he saw you hopping on my dick, but guess what? He wouldn’t care.” Haechan pulled out his fingers and left you alone in the backseat. 
You sat there, a wreck and vulnerable, as you tried to catch your breath. You lay back on your forearms, curious eyes following his every movement.
“There’s a reason he hasn’t left you yet,” Haechan explained, opening the front door to his car to grab a condom and his phone. He tucked both into his back pocket before returning to you, bringing your lips to his before continuing to talk within the kiss.
“He’s stringing you along so you can boost his ego. He knows you will always be there for him, and you allow him to use you like that?” 
You wrapped your fingers around Haechan’s neck, squeezing it before pushing it away to keep your distance, your frustration starting to grow.
“I’m beginning to think you’re all bark and no bite, Donghyuck,” you muttered, and with whatever strength you had left, you pushed him against the seat and got into his lap. Without hesitation, you started rocking your hips over his clothed dick, hoping your slick would seep in so he could feel you.
He hissed but allowed you to do as you pleased, his grip tight on your hips.
“I-...I think…if you asked me, you’re the one who’s projecting. I’m the one in a relationship, and you’re just a side piece.”
The speed of your hips increased, and Haechan felt ecstasy on the tip of his tongue, the confinements of his pants physically paining him the more you continued.
“You’re jealous, Hyuck. Just admit it.”
You pulled at his hair, loving the absolute control you had over him at that moment, but in one languid motion, Haechan managed to push you back down, this time with your stomach against the seats. You could feel your bodily fluids sticking to the nylon, and with how hard Haechan was pressing down into you, you were barely given a chance to move. 
With one hand on your lower back, he kept you still as he took out both his phone and condom, making sure to place both on top of your bare skin.
“What’s there to be jealous of when you’re here under me? You want to be fucked stupid? Fine. Don’t fucking complain when you want me to be the villain.” You lurched at his words, refusing to let him win, but you were completely unable to do much damage as Haechan kicked off his pants and boxers while still keeping his weight on you.
He then picked up his phone and pulled up the camera, making sure to take a photo of you in his car before clicking record and tossing the phone onto the ground, hoping it was close enough to pick up on your sweet noises. 
“Make sure to be loud for me, yeah? I’m sure Yeonjun would love it if I sent that video to him.”
“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” you bit back, your hand reaching out in an attempt to grab the device, but Haechan was quicker to grab your wrist, pinning it behind your back. 
“I wouldn’t because I know how to appreciate what’s mine.” Haechan released his hold on you to roll on the condom, giving you the opportunity to move and take his phone as you pleased. To your dismay, there was no more effort left within you, only an ache to feel Haechan inside you. 
“He appreciates me,” you mumbled, trying to convince yourself otherwise as you waited.
“Does he record you? Jerk off to your moans every night? Because I would, Y/N, just for you.” His voice was now by your ear, and when you turned your head to look at him, he pulled you into another hungry kiss, his dick now grazing against your hole. 
“You’re fucking insane,” you bit back into the kiss, and he grinned against your lips, guiding his dick into you as he spoke.
“Psychotic, just for my princess.”
Venom laced his voice, dripping menacingly, and the insertion of his tip had you grasping for something in front of you, anything, and it was only then that you were able to process how thick his cock was.
“Can you take it?” he asked, his voice slightly softer than before. When you gave him a curt nod, he continued pushing in further. Maybe lube should’ve been an option, but you were so wet for him that it didn’t matter, knowing that the stretch probably would have hurt regardless. 
“Fuck, fuck—he really doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Haechan gasped, his head resting against the back of yours. It was better than anything he’d dreamed of, better than any girl he imagined, because it was you, and your body was made for him.
“When was the last time he fucked you?” He was fully inside of you now, and when you didn’t answer, he decided to take it as a sign to move. With a firm grip on your waist, he pulled out just to slam back in, making you yell as you clawed at the seat, wishing there was something to bite on as you endured the pain that was quick to morph into pleasure. 
Every glide pushed you further into the car, your forearms occasionally hitting the door, as his hips moved vigorously, working up to a pace that had you moaning without pause. Tears were flowing down your cheeks at the overwhelming pleasure of being manhandled—of being Haechan’s rag doll when he was meant to be yours, and your body seized up, being worked up to your orgasm once more with how precise each thrust seemed to be. 
He adjusted to raise one of your legs to his hip, giving him a new angle to pound into you as he worships you with his dick, and you shook out of pleasure, whining as you saw white and reached your second orgasm for the night. You pulsated around his cock, strangled moans ripping from your throat as tears mixed with your drool by your chin.
And Haechan showed no signs of stopping.
He made sure to press your face down against the seats, wanting every liquid to fall and stain his car, giving him something to remember you by.
Oh, and there was the recording too.
While kneeling inside of the cramped car, he slowed his movements and inclined his torso towards you. In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around your neck and pulled you up, locking you inside his elbow as he forced you to look into your reflection in the car window.
“Look at you, the school’s favorite slut. What happens if the recording drops? The whole school would know you’re mine, wouldn’t they?” He pressed his chest against your back, the mesh rubbing against your skin as his lips remained near your ear, forcing you to listen to every word.
You limped against him, your flames completely burnt out, and your fingers tugged onto the mesh around his arm, successfully ripping it after some time, but Haechan seemed unphased. In fact, it turned him on even more knowing that he had you locked in, that you were his.
“Look at your pretty cunt taking me in so well. It was so wet for me, wasn’t it? It still is. And guess what? You’re in my car. You belong to me, and my good girl is only now just finding out about it, isn’t she?” 
“I-I’m…I’m not-...not yours,” you retaliated, creating red angry marks into his skin with your nails as you endured being used, stifling your moans as you looked at how wrecked you were, how bare you seemed to be compared to Haechan. You were much more of a mess, from your hair to the bruises on your neck. Your pussy kept tightening up around his dick, convulsing occasionally with every hit toward your g-spot, and you held onto Haechan each time. 
Your head drooped down, thinking about how your heart ached for Yeonjun, yet the rest of your body was meant for Haechan.
“Whose fucking dick is inside of you right now?” He scoffed and pulled on your hair, forcing your head back up so he could directly speak into your ear. “Wake up, Y/N,” he demanded. “You’re mine.”
He dropped you back onto the seat like you were nothing, leaving you completely helpless, your throat void of any words as your eyes closed and met the back of your skull, too fucked out to communicate. You tried reaching for the door handle, just something to hold onto, yet you couldn’t.
“You tell me I’m pitiful, that I’m basically delusional when you’re going to be the reason my car will smell like sex for weeks.”
Your face was forced back into the puddle of liquid you created earlier, being shifted back and forth against the seat as if you were made for his dick and not vice versa.
“It’s crazy how pathetic you are, how willing you are to break yourself down in front of everyone just to have him. That-...fuck…that you’re so convinced he wants you and you two are soulmates.” He dragged his fingers through your hair and grabbed your roots. “You called me, you wanted me, and I have you right now, moaning my name, and you have nothing.”
Something about his words kept bringing out your orgasms, each thrust adding to the pleasure immensely. You didn’t know how much you could handle—afraid you may pass out from how much he was using you, from his tight grip around you to his dick hitting inside of you mercilessly.
Haechan whispering ‘I won, Y/N’ was what had you losing it, your high this time ending up stronger than the rest. You were fully crying now, and yet he continued as if you were nothing.
He peppered your shoulder with kisses and had the slight decency to slow his pace, but he also took note of your sobs.
“Don’t tell me you still want him,” he began rambling, his lips still on your shoulder. “Don’t tell me after this that your heart still belongs to him, because if that were the case, I’d make you call him right now. Say you wish it was him instead of me, and that he’s the love of your life while you’re stuffed with my dick. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
You could no longer think, and what you hated most was how reactive your body was—how you were just able to come for the third time, but Haechan’s dick solely being inside you snapped some other straw you weren’t aware you had, finding that your last high was incoming. 
Haechan had picked up the pace by then, and by knowing your body incredibly well, he reached down to your sensitive clit to relieve you. You both knew your fourth was incoming, and you held on tight to his arm.
“D-Dongh- hyuck, I’m—”
“Mine.”
You cried out, your entire body shaking, and Haechan pulled out, immediately releasing onto your back with a guttural moan after yanking off the condom. He was forced to catch his breath, watching you float in and out of consciousness.
Your eyes were closed, struggling to breathe through your sobs, and Haechan consoled you with a kiss on the back of your shoulder. 
“You’re mine, Y/N, whether you like it or not.”
He then pressed a kiss to your cheek before leaving to grab paper towels from his trunk. You were heaving, still shaking, and left alone as a mess in his backseat, yet with him gone, you felt even more useless, wanting him back by your side instantly. You weakly cried out for him, your nails dragging against the seat in hopes of being in his arms soon, and maybe he was right.
Maybe you were his.
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OUR INFERNO [ M.LIST | TWO ]
NAVIGATION — NCT DREAM
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© https://hcuyk.tumblr.com/
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mattsfavoritestar · 2 months
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home !
WELCOME TO…
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matt sturniolo, mr. love is embarrassing!
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( oneshots )
CRAWLING BACK 2 YOU, minors dni
warnings.. smut, makeout sesh, best friend!matt, whiny!matt, female!reader, use of y/n, car sex, slight hand kink, no use of protection (wrap it before you tap it!) creampie, cowgirl, mentions of drug and alcohol usage
STAY WITH ME,
warnings… angst, no use of y/n, fwb!matt, player!matt, mentions of kissing, matt’s lowkey in love with you, reader ends up crying in his arms, bit of miscommunication at the beginning
IMPOSTER, minors dni
warnings… smut, primal?kinda, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT B4 YOU TAP IT), creampie, cervix kissing, hair pulling, choking, little bit of degradation, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, no use of y/n or really any names other than chris and nathan
SMILE! YOU’RE ON CAMERA, minors dni
warnings… mean!toxic!matt, mean!toxic!chris, mentions of established relationship, cheating, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT B4 YOU TAP IT), sextape, degradation, oral (m receiving), face fucking, rough sex, multiple orgasms, creampie
STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, minors dni
warnings... fratboy!matt, collagestudent!reader, mentions of alcohol and drug usage, kinda pussydrunk!matt, kinda obsessive!matt, mentions of fratboy! chris, p in v (HOORAY HE PULLS OUT), overstimulation
( alternative universe )
mafia!bodyguard!matt x spoiled!richgirl! reader
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chris sturniolo, mr. bad idea right !
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( oneshots )
ADORE YOU,
warnings… nothing too serious just fluff, soft kisses and pecks, use of y/n (like 2 times), loverboy!chris, chris and reader and basically obsessed with each other, matt is lowkey a hater but we love him, reader almost blinds chris
MIDNIGHT SNACK, minors dni
warnings… mean!chris, oral (female receiving), overstimulation, hair pulling, pussy slapping, low key toxic!chris, brothers bestfriend!chris, possessive
IM YOURS, minors dni
( prt 2 to midnight snack ! )
warnings… brothers bsf!chris, mean!chris (he’s such an asshole), toxic!chris, jealous!chris, possessive!chris (bros a walking red flag atp😭😭), sex tape, couch sex, creampie, no protection (WRAP IT B4 YOU TAP IT), big dick chris, rough sex, overstimulation, chris lowkey has a dacryphilla kink, and a breeding kink, kinda public sex (also kinda got caught)
SMILE! YOU’RE ON CAMERA, minors dni
warnings… mean!toxic!matt, mean!toxic!chris, mentions of established relationship, cheating, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT B4 YOU TAP IT), sextape, degradation, oral (m receiving), face fucking, rough sex, multiple orgasms, creampie
NEVER BE LIKE YOU, minors dni
warnings… mentions of bullying, rough sex, semi-public sex, degrading, edging, overstimulation, mean!chris, former bully!reader, creampie, perv!chris if you squint, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT B4 YOU TAP IT)
JEALOUS, minors dni
warnings… bestfriend!chris, jealous!chris, dom!chris, bratty!reader, kinda mean!chris is you squint, mentions of alcohol, degradation, orgasm denial, overstimulation, pussy slapping, finger fucking
( blurbs )
mean!toxic!chris who overstimulates you with his fingers for trying to fuck anyone else mdni !
mean!toxic!chris who purposefully made you cry just so he could watch you sob while riding him mdni !
mean!toxic!chris who did try being nice to you for once but you push him into bending you over the kitchen counter mdni !
mean!toxic!chris who texts other girls while buried down your throat mdni !
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MORE COMING SOON !
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