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itsbeeble · 9 months ago

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Cheerleaders and Stereotypes

SUMMARY: Choi San isn't an idiot. He's also very patient. How long will it take for you to let him admit that he bagged the hottest cheerleader in the world?

GENRE: fluff, angst, smut

PAIRING: Choi San x afab!reader

WC: ~4.7k

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn @flwoie

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: reader is dumb, relationship is actually a little toxic I won't even lie, san tries to make reader jealous and it works, p in v sex, fingering, size kink, SIZE. KINK., softdom!san, big dick!san, um reader struggles to ride san idk, bulge kink, san lowkey mocks the reader a bit, insecurities, arguing, san lowkey is way too patient for reader, idk i think that's it

A/N: h-heyyyyy *chuckles nervously* Everyone say welcome back tumblr user itsbeeble! Everyone say thank you @from-izzy and @sanaxo-o for distracting me while I was writing and to ally for supporting me through a very very very very long writers block hahahahhahahhahhahha....haha...ha

Choi San, despite popular belief, was not an idiot. Not really at least. Unfortunately for him, he seemed to fit most of the stereotypes of a college athlete.

He was fit, that was without a doubt and he would not deny it. Six days a week in the gym after football practice did him good. Toned arms that hardly fit any of his shirts, the fabric stretching and nearly tearing every time he got dressed. Thick thighs that bulged against every pair of jeans or sweatpants, noticeable from the stands on game day and having girls swooning as he walked. Not to mention his ass. Had he not built up a brick wall called “confidence” the comments made about his ass would have had him blushing and covering his cheeks rather than smirking.

God, that smirk. He flashed it casually to anyone who looked at him— students, professors, the crowd, the opposing team, the cheerleaders. It was a near unfortunate bonus that he was just as hot as he was fit. That stupid chiselled jaw, the dimples, and his tall frame. It’s irritating.

At least, it’s irritating for you.

See, being the supposedly stupid captain of the football team came with many stereotypes.

Dating the captain of the cheerleading squad was just one more, even if no one knew.

No one important, that is.

“Sannie,” Yewon was practically hanging off San’s arm, her manicured nails lightly scratching the tan skin. The sing-song tone of her voice made you cringe, the noise scraping at your eardrums and creating a dull throb in your already aching skull. Your back was turned to the pair, but San could tell you were likely trying to grow eyes in the back of your skull to watch the interaction. That stupid, casual smirk of his was trained on the newer cheerleader, her eyes big and filled with faux innocence. “How did you get so big?”

A poorly stifled snort from another girl on the squad, Sihyeon. A good friend of yours who knows exactly what goes on between you and San behind closed doors, and knows exactly what he’s planning. That little snort has you turning the daggers you call eyes onto her, the girls around her shifting uncomfortably at the now tense energy around you.

Jealousy. That’s what San’s goal is and you know it. He’s pulled this trick several times before, trying to egg you on and expose the relationship that you’d chosen to hide. So he’d play stupid, that same act that everyone believes is a poor reality. The dumb, hot captain of the football team who can’t seem to get a girlfriend despite the girls falling at his feet for a moment of his attention. All he wants is for you to finally get jealous enough to rip that girl off his arm and finally stake your claim publicly.

Unfortunately, you’re patient.

Fortunately, so is he.

He smirks down at her, his arm grazing the skin of her lower back that her top doesn’t cover. You can practically hear her breathing stutter, and your grip on your pom poms tightens.

“Never skip a day at the gym, never skip practice, throw a good party on the weekends.” His answer is…lackluster at best. Your nose wrinkles, knowing he did it on purpose. The idiotic responses are for you, in hopes that you’ll turn around and yell at him for pretending to be a moron even though he’s one of the best students in the Kinesiology department.

“You’ll have to coach me through a workout one day,” Yewon grabs San’s arm tighter when she sees you turn to face the pair.

“Maybe I should take you up on that.” San isn’t looking at her, not even a brief glance down to acknowledge that she’s there. No, his eyes are trained on you. Daring you to say something, anything.

Do it.

You know you want to.

Stake the claim.

You know I’m yours. Why not let everyone else know?

You open your mouth to speak, and he quirks an eyebrow at you. Do it, do it, do it.

“Kim Yewon,” the words are laced with venom and she goes rigid. “Break ended ten minutes ago.”

“I was talking to Sannie!” She glared at you, and you almost laughed.

“Sannie,” you mocked, watching a pout form on your boyfriend’s lips, “has his own practice to get to.”

“Our practice ended half an hour ago.” He argued, toeing the limits of how far he can push you before you finally break.

“Then leave.”

“I don’t want to. I wanna stay and talk with Yewon.” He challenged. Sihyeon grimaces behind you, watching as San digs himself a grave not even he can climb out of.

The two of you stare each other down for a few moments, a mix of emotions running through you. You know that he’s challenging you and trying to get a rise out of you, but you know better. You know you can’t challenge him like that without exposing your relationship— the one thing in your life that you want to keep to yourself for just a little while longer.

You’re the first to cave, your shoulders slumping just enough to be noticed by San, and his eyebrows knit together.

“Do what you want. Practice is done for the day.”

The two-story rental house you share with Sihyeon and a few other girls from the squad is eerily silent. The air conditioning and the sound of you quietly walking around your room are the only things keeping you from the thoughts in your head.

Did San take Yewon up on the ‘offer’?

Did you take it too far?

Should you have just caved for him?

What if he’s sick of this? Of the secret meet-ups and the acting?

Something hits the window as you’re walking past it, and a loud squeak escapes you. You whip your head around just as, what you now realize is, a rock hits the window. Not a large rock. Small, just enough to be noticeable and visible to the naked eye as it tumbles back down to the front lawn. Another rock as you take the two steps you need in order to peer down and see San with a pile of rocks on the ground next to him, a fourth in his hand ready to be thrown if needed. He grins when he sees you, tossing the rock up and down a couple of times before taking aim.

You fling your window open, scowling down at him before he winds his hand back.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Choi San.” He pouts up at you, but all you do is glare.

“How else was I supposed to get your attention?”

“Ring the doorbell, dumbass. Like a normal person.”

Much to your annoyance, San just grins and drops the rock. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You lean against the window frame, arms folded as you run your tongue over your lip in thought. “Shouldn’t you be with Yewon?”

You can see San’s nose wrinkle at the thought, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he makes his way to the tree he’d been using as a sort of ladder to get into your room. He’d been doing that since you met, since the first time you ever slept together. He’d never been a fan of the whole…front door tactic. Your father would probably hate him. He’d think San was no good, a troublemaker if anything. You would disagree.

Maybe your relationship was more stereotypical than you were willing to believe.

San’s shoes are louder than either of you had expected as he jumps down from the tree, grimacing at the noise he makes.

“If my neighbors didn’t know any better, the police would’ve been here by now.” You shuffle back as your boyfriend tucks awkwardly through your window. His large frame pushes against the frame, the vinyl creaking against him as it struggles to stay in one piece. His neck cranes to look up at you, his feet hitting the ground with another loud thump.

“Glad they know better then.” He pushes a hand through his hair, the silky black strands falling loosely over his forehead in spite of his best efforts.

A moment of silence falls between you, and you take this time to sit at your dresser. Makeup wipes and cleansers are scattered in front of you from when you’d made a weak attempt at distracting yourself from, well, the problem you’d created.

San sits on your bed behind you, watching every move you make. He sits quietly, like a child in a timeout chair. He waits, letting you make the calls. You never knew why he started doing that— started letting you take the lead in every argument, even the petty nonsensical ones.

“You never answered my question,” your eyes are trained on him through the mirror. He presses his lips together, loosely folding his legs.

“Are you really that upset?” The question is innocent enough, but it brings back the previous irritation from the field.

“Why wouldn’t I be? My boyfriend is openly flirting with other people knowing that I’ll get pissed off. You flaunt that knowledge like it’s your fucking birthright or whatever. Do you really think I’m not gonna get upset about it?” You put your moisteurizer down with more force than you’d wanted to, shaking your dresser a bit. San flinches at the sudden noise, gnawing at his lip in thought.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Are you, though?” Your eyes are narrowed as you turn around in your chair. A momentary pause as San lets the words sink in. He’s patient. So patient with you, even when you feel you don’t deserve it. “You act like you don’t give two shits about our relationship, and then show up at my fucking window acting like nothing is wrong and that the world is all sunshine and fucking rainbows. You go out of your way to piss me off, make me angry at my own squad, just for what? So you can get a good fuck at the end of the day?”

Sometimes you forget that, while Choi San is patient, that patience runs thin.

He isn’t stupid. He knows that this outburst, this frustration, isn’t just at him, but the more you spit your venom at him, taking your anger and misdirecting it, the more his patience begins to run out. You can see it in the clenching of his fists, the ticking of his jaw, and the glare in his eyes.

Unfortunately, you’re far too lost in your mind that you can’t see the way San rises from his seat on your bed and takes a step toward you. Then another, and another, and suddenly he’s right in front of you.

“Sometimes I think that the idiotic front that you put on isn’t exactly a front at all—” You spin around, expecting him to still be on your bed. A loud yelp escapes you when you come face-to-face with his well-built frame. “Jesus Christ, San! Why the fuck are you right behi—”

“Shut up,” he says it so simply, so calmly that you almost think he’s not being serious.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!” You snarl, and San scoffs.

“Do you even realize why we’re in this situation to begin with?”

“Yeah, you were flirting with my fucking—”

“Don’t blame me for your fucking problems,” San spits out. Your eyes widen and you take a step back. “I’ve been going along with this stupid fucking secret relationship for who knows how long, and all I’ve gotten in return is you bitching about me wanting you to just come out with it!”

“You know I want to keep—”

“You want to keep your love life private,” San interrupts and flings his hands into the air. “I get it. I understand, Y/N. That doesn’t make it suck any less.”

“It isn’t just—” you huff, pressing your hand to your forehead in a poor attempt at calming yourself down. “It isn’t just the fact that I want to keep us private, Sannie. I just— I don’t—”

Your eyes are welling up with tears, and you blink a few times to force them back. San pulls you toward him, his hand practically engulfing yours as he tugs you onto his lap. Your legs are on either side of his, and he laces his fingers with yours, resting them between the two of you.

“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong, sweetheart.” He murmurs, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Let me help you.”

You shake your head, and his chest rises and falls with a quiet sigh. “I’m just— I’m just so sick of— of everything.”

San presses a little kiss to your forehead, tugging one of his hands free from yours and lacing it through the strand of hair on the back of your head. He doesn’t move for a few moments, placing another kiss on your forehead and then another. He waits for you to calm yourself and gather your thoughts.

“Can—” your voice is quieter, a bit more shaky than it was just moments ago. “Can you kiss me?” San smiles, his lips still just millimeters from your forehead.

“Tell me what’s wrong first.” Your hips shift against his, and you drop your head against the column of his neck. Your breath is warm against his skin, and the scent of your shampoo begins to flood his senses. His hand tugs at your hair, drawing your attention back to him. “You’re absolutely insatiable, you know that? Tell me what’s wrong or I’m leaving.”

You can’t fight the little whine that’s pulled out of you. Not that you wanted to. You wanted him. You wanted Choi San so badly that it hurt.

“I was— I was mad because I didn’t want…” You can hardly form a sentence, too distracted by the gentle tugs at your hair and the way San’s other hand has drifted to your hip, drawing circles underneath the fabric of your sleep shorts.

“What didn’t you want, sweetheart? Tell me.” San pulls your head away from his neck, holding back a grin at the near-glazed look in your eyes.

“I didn’t want to be part of anymore…stereotypes. We already fit so many, I just—I just wanted to hold that one back for a bit longer.” You whine, your lips falling into a pout that San just wants to kiss away. Instead, he smiles.

“Was that so hard, pretty girl? So much fighting just for a silly little reason like that?” Your pout deepens, and he sighs. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah…”

“And nothing is gonna change that, no matter how many stereotypes we fall under. You understand?”

“Yes,” San smiles, stroking your hip and squeezing it.

“‘Yes’ what, baby?” Your eyes are glossy now, your lips parted slightly in your daze.

“Yes sir.”

Despite San’s patience running thin, he always recovers it with ease. Patience is what he’s known for in class, on the field, in your relationship, and in your bedroom.

He can edge you for hours, cooing at the way you beg for him, beg for that sweet release, for just one more finger, please just one more.

“Pretty girl,” he strokes your cheek, letting his hand slide down your spine to rest against the small of your back. You’re writhing beneath him, trying desperately to bring your hips up just enough for him to hit that sweet spot inside of you but failing miserably. “I don’t think you can handle anymore.”

Only two of his fingers sit inside you, but it’s more than enough to stretch you out, to provide you with the stimulation you need to go right over the edge—

“San—sir, please.” Your hands grip the pillow beneath your head tightly, nails digging into the fabric so tight you’re afraid it might tear. “Pl—Please lemme cum, I prom—promise I’ll b—be good. Please,” You’re nearly hysterical, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as he plunges his fingers in and out of you, his thumb dancing over your clit but not quite giving you that extra stimulation. Not that you need it with the way he grinds the tips of his fingers into the spongy spot just within his reach.

“You wanna cum that bad?” San leans down, his chest pressed against your back and his lips right up against your ear. “You’re gonna have to work harder than that. Beg for it. Scream. I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

Patience is a virtue you haven’t quite learned yet. What you have learned? You’re extraordinarily good at making Choi San cave for you.

“Sir,” you plead, pushing your hips back against his hand just enough. There’s a burning feeling in your stomach, the knot winding tighter and tighter until you almost can’t take it. “Please. I’m so so—sorry for yelling. Please I’ve been so good for you. I can take it. Please let me take it. Want you s—so bad. Want you to ma—make me cum. Want you, Sannie! Please, please make me cum. Want you to fuck me so bad, ple—please!”

For a moment, San’s hand stills inside you. For a moment all you can hear is your desperate whining and your boyfriend attempting to steady his breathing.

Then he’s ripping his fingers out of your sopping cunt and rolling you onto your back. His frame looms over you in a way that has your body quivering with anticipation, eyes searching yours for…something that you can’t figure out in your lust-filled haze.

“Such a pretty girl,” San murmurs, pressing his palm at the base of your stomach, one hand nearly covering the expanse of it. “So small, so good for me. So good for Sannie, hm?”

“Yes!” You grab his wrist, nails digging so tightly you’re afraid you might draw blood. “Please, wanna be so good for you Sannie!”

He sighs, prying your hand away from his wrist and pinning it to the mattress. “You say that, but I don’t know if I believe you.”

A sob pushes out of you, your back arching into him. He catches you before you can lower back down to the bed, his arm looping around you to keep you pressed against his chest while he sits back. You’re right where you started— on the bed, straddling him with tears running down your cheeks— but this time you’re both completely undressed. You can feel his cock pressing against your thigh, little twitches being the only indication of any impatience. You try to roll your hips against him, trying anything to get that friction back. San clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

“Naughty girl,” he murmurs, stilling your hips with one hand. “Thought you said you’d be good for me.”

“I—I will!” You grab his shoulders, leaning your face up to his, trying desperately to kiss him— to do anything that might sway his decision. “I’m sorry, sir! I promise I just— I just wanted—”

“I know,” he kisses you gently, smiling softly, deceptively. “I know you just wanted to cum all over your Sannie’s lap. Been edgin’ you for so long, haven’t I? You deserve to cum for being so…patient.” You let out a relieved sob as San releases your hip and grabs his cock. He guides it through your folds briefly, soaking it in your arousal and pumping his hand up and down his shaft to thoroughly lubricate it. “You’re gonna prove to me that you can be good, baby. Okay?”

“Yes, yes Sannie!” You lift your hips just enough for him to align his tip with your entrance, almost starting to cry again at the feeling. He helps you sink, knowing that two fingers weren’t enough for you. It never is. No matter how much he fucks you, it’s always a tight fit for you, not that you ever complain. You never complain about how big San is compared to you. He’s caught you drooling over this size of his dick more times than he can count, usually trying to talk you out of riding him out of fear of hurting you. But not today. No, today he’s giving you exactly what you wanted.

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” He encourages. “Fuck yourself dumb on Sannie’s cock.”

The look in your eyes becomes almost animalistic. You shift your body a bit, steadying your hands on his shoulders, and lift your hips until just his tip remains inside of you. San can feel the way you’re clenching around his tip, knows you’re doing it intentionally, and he lets his head fall back.

When you sink intohim for the first time, you emit a strangled gasp, your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your nails digging into your lover’s shoulders.

“F—Fuck Sannie!” You bite down on your lip, lifting your hips again and dropping back down. “Mmph—fuck you’re too big!”

“You wanted this, sweetheart,” San tells you, rolling his head to the side and groaning as you continue to struggle with riding him. You try so, so hard to build a steady rhythm, but your legs are shaking and your breath is already gone. “I thought cheerleaders were supposed to have good stamina.”

“No—Not when their boyfriend has a f—fucking huge dick!” You cry out, giving up and grinding your hips against his. The steady rolling of your hips relieves the burn just a bit, and you moan as the tip of his cock grinds into that spot with more strength than his fingers did just minutes ago. “Fuck, I can fe—feel you in my stomach!”

San lifts his head at that, a new hunger in his eyes and he leans you back. You slow your hips at the sudden movement, furrowing your brows while you watch him. He kisses his teeth and places a firm slap on the side of your hip.

“I didn’t tell you to stop, did I?” He grips your hip tightly in both hands, forcing you to keep riding him. “Keep going, sweetheart. Keep going until I tell you to stop.”

You do, your hips picking up a steady pace with the help of one of his hands to guide you along. His other hand presses against your stomach, and you hear his breathing hitch.

“Baby,” he takes your hand from his shoulder, squeezing it gently as he guides it to where his hand was previously. “Feel right here.”

You hesitate just a moment, and he looks down at you, smiling encouragingly.

Then you feel it.

The bulge in your stomach where the tip of his cock reaches as far as it can possibly go.

“You feel that, baby?” San presses your hand down and you both let out a simultaneous moan at the feeling. The white-hot pleasure builds back up in the pit of your stomach, the loosened knot returning with renewed fervor and you know San can tell. You know that he’s close too, his hips thrusting up to meet yours halfway. “God, you feel so good. How did I get so fucking lucky, huh?”

You don’t respond. You can’t respond. The pleasure is blinding. All you can feel, see, hear, and smell is San. He clouds your thoughts, your senses, your very being. The pleasure is winding up, drawing that knot tighter and tighter and tighter—

“C—Cumming, San!” You arch into him, and he holds your hip to keep you moving. “Fuck, fuck I’m cumming!”

“I know, pretty girl,” he grunts, his thrusts stuttering. “Fuck, I’m close. Keep going baby, wanna cum with you.”

Your hips are moving slower, your muscles burning and you can’t stop yourself from forcing San back until he’s laying against the bed. Your hands find purchase on his chest, sweat beading on your forehead with the effort to keep moving, to keep riding him until you’re both forced over the edge you’d been begging for.

San’s thumb drifts across your hip, finding purchase on your swollen clit and rubbing sloppy circles into it until you’re sobbing again, sobbing his name and begging for that sweet release.

When it hits you, it’s blinding. Stars spark behind your eyes, your head tossed back and sweet cries pulled from the depths of your chest. His hips thrust into yours one more time, his eyes trained on how you arch your back and twitch with your release, and then he’s cumming. Thick globs of cum fill you up to the brim, seeping out from the seams of your cunt and mixing with your release. You let yourself collapse against his chest, practically gasping for air and shaking from the effort of riding him.

“You finally got what you wanted,” San murmurs, resting one of his hands on the small of your back as his cock softens in you. “You finally got to ride me.”

“Never…never doing that again,” you mutter back, placing a kiss on the base of his neck. “Absolutely…not.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually letting this happen.” San is grinning ear to ear as he drives you to campus, his free hand holding yours tightly. You purse your lips, refusing to admit defeat.

“This doesn’t mean I want everyone knowing—”

“Bullshit,” San interrupts with a grin. “You want everyone to know that I bagged the hottest cheerleader in the world.”

“You didn’t bag shit, Choi San. And if you say that you ‘bagged’ me to anyone on the football team,” your eyes turn to daggers as you jab a finger into his shoulder, “I will end your bloodline where it stands. Your mom can say ‘bye’ to any chances of a grandchild from us.”

San grimaces, but it’s replaced by a radiant smile as he pulls into the parking garage closest to your building. “You can make as many threats as you want, sweetheart, but you and I both know you won’t risk that. You love getting fucked after dealing with Yewon every day.”

He opens your door for you, beaming as he helps you out of his car.

“I’ll make you a deal, sweetheart.”

“Will you now?” Your response is sarcastic but San ignores it.

“You let me show you off as much as I want, and I bitch out Yewon today.”

You don’t even have to think about your response, a grin replacing your scowl.

“That sounds like a damn good deal, Choi San.”

“Sannie!”

Yewon’s grating voice has never sounded so fucking heavenly in your ears, knowing exactly what’s going to happen next. San is already at your side, rifling through your bag for the extra granola bar he knows you have. He grimaces at the sound, his eyes almost begging you to help him, but you shake your head.

“You dug your own grave, Sannie.” A quick pat on his shoulder and his fate is decided for him.

“Yewon,” he greets the girl, continuing to rifle through the bag. “Can I help you?”

The disinterest in his voice didn’t deter her, not that anyone was surprised. The cheer squad watched the younger, newer, dumber member as she stumbled through her flirtations, complimenting him on things he didn’t need nor want to be complimented on while searching for a fucking granola bar.

“Yewon,” San finally interrupts the girl, rising with the snack in his hand and glaring down at her. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m not interested.”

The shock on her face made you smile. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe it was a bitch named Karma. Or, maybe, you were sick of the shitty stereotypes that you always seemed to fall victim to.

“But you—you always—”

“I was trying to make my girlfriend jealous of me, as shitty as that is,” San pinches the bridge of his nose and scoffs. “But I’ve already got myself a cheerleader, Kim Yewon. And she’s the best girlfriend I could ever ask for. Plus, she’s hot as fuck,” San grins at you, but you can only roll your eyes.

“I said no—”

“You said I couldn’t tell people I bagged you,” it takes him three steps to reach your side and grab your chin. “Not that I couldn’t call you the hottest cheerleader in the world. No offense, Sihyeon.”

“None taken,” your best friend waves her hand dismissively. “I’m just glad you two finally got your heads out of your asses.”

“Shut up, Sihyeon.” You scowl, but San is quick to bend down, hunching at the shoulders to reach your height and kiss you firmly on the mouth. It’s a searing kiss, more than he said he would do in front of the squad, but you let him have his moment.

You’d made him wait long enough.

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itsbeeble · 3 months ago

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My Kink Is Karma

Summary: Sunwoo breaking up with you after three happy years was not on your bingo card. It's a good thing you believe in karma.

Genre: smut

Pairing: Kim Sunwoo x fem!reader

WC: 7.2k

THE BOYZ Masterlist MAIN Masterlist

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn @flwoie @captain-brie

FIC TAGLIST: @sanaxo-o @from-izzy

WARNINGS: not edited at all tbh so please lmk if there's something that needs adjusting, Sunwoo kinda shitty in this, infidelity, credit card fraud (?), theft, oral (m and f receiving), making out, marking, p in v sex, overstimulation, swearing, a little bit of degradation, hair pulling, face sitting, fingering, and of course karma

18+ MDNI AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

A/N: i miss being good at writing smut. Anyway enjoy this! Izzy has waited far too long and i'm sorry pookie :( I hope this is worth the wait

Sunwoo kicking you out on a random Tuesday afternoon hadn’t quite been what you planned for. In fact, you feel like you’ve been completely blindsided. Things had been going strong for almost three years— decent communication, his parents loved you, your parents loved him, and the sex was to die for. You had a shared group of friends, all of whom thought they would see the day you would get married if you could ever scrape together the money for it. You were young, sure, but you knew you loved him and wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, even if it meant spending your life savings on a cheap wedding and living in your parent’s basement for the next ten years.

It was humiliating for you and him, the way you clutched at his knees with mascara running down your cheeks, begging him not to do this. Not to leave you like this. Things were good, you thought things were perfect. Was it work? Was he stressed from work? Or, maybe, it was a prank. Something that Eric put him up to.

No, it’s just not working out. You had to leave, pack your things and leave the fucking apartment that was in your name just because he wasn’t as in love with you as you were with him.

Alas, here you were six weeks later, refreshed and over that bullshit relationship with your best friend who practically saved your ass with some speech about karma.

The nail salon is practically buzzing with life, techs and customers alike skirting through the small building in a blur of motion. You watch each person carefully, gnawing on your lip and tapping your feet against the tiled ground. Nervous habits that you had never been able to shake. Normally, a steady hand would be on your thigh or across your shoulders to calm you.

That steady hand, however, is no longer an option.

“You hear what’s going on with Sunwoo?” Hyori’s eyes turn to meet yours, the nail tech in front of her gently grabbing her hand to apply a fresh set of blue polish. You kiss your teeth, biting your tongue to hold back a stinging reply.

“Why would I care what that piece of shit does?”

Clearly, that doesn’t work very well. It does, however, bring you quite a bit of pain due to the sharpness of your teeth and the force you use to try and hold back the venom in your tone. The nail tech looks up briefly, breaking her focus on painting your stiletto-shaped nails dark green. You can feel the curiosity, the itch for drama in those eyes. Lucky for her, you’re in a very…dramatic mood, aching for a bit of karma.

“Well, I mean, he did leave you homeless, took your credit cards and ran you into debt that your parents very graciously paid off, fucked your sister…need I go on?” Hyori’s nail tech snaps her head up, eyes wide.

“That explains why I shouldn’t give a fuck. Why should I?”

“Well,” Hyori straightens in her chair, smiling so wide that you’re sure her cheeks are stinging. “I hear that he’s fuckin losing it lately. Like, destroyed his apartment so bad that the landlord kicked him out and he had to move back in with his parents.”

Your jaw drops open, an appalled noise coming out of your mouth. Some sort of half-laugh-half-scoff sort of noise that has heads turning in your direction.

“No way.”

“Mhm, apparently he was also getting with this girl who was, like, eighteen based on what Yerim told me.”

“Bitch, you better be joking right now,” you scoff. “What a fucking weirdo.”

“Don’t quote me on that,” Hyori shrugs. “You know that Yerim is notoriously unreliable.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. Remember the whole pickle situation?”

“Fuck, don’t remind me,” Hyori groans, leaning her head back on her chair. “I genuinely couldn’t leave my house for weeks after that— I was so embarrassed.”

“You and me both, girl.”

It gets quiet for a moment, both of you thinking about the question but not wanting to be the first to ask it. The nail techs, in this silence, are able to finish both of your nails and usher you off to pay. You can tell, just by looking back at them as you leave the building, that they’re just a bit pissed about not hearing the full story, about not hearing what you’re going to do about this whole thing.

“So,” Hyori sighs as you slide into her passenger seat, “what are you gonna do?”

“C’mon, Hyori…” you click your tongue, voice trailing off as you mull over your options. “You should know by now that I tend to make sure karma bites people right in the ass.”

“You and your fucking kinks, girl,” Hyori scrunches her nose, laughing quietly to herself. “Let me guess, you’re gonna make damn sure he knows he fucked up by fucking his best friend?”

“Eric? Nah, the kid’s cute but not my type.”

“I’m shocked, truly,” Hyori remarks. “What’ll you do then?” “You’ll find out soon enough, trust me.”

You never admit to Hyori just how much it turns you on that Sunwoo’s life is falling apart. You never told her how much you loved it when he crumbled and begged and pleaded for something. It was a secret, one that only you and Sunwoo knew about and that you ensured stayed between just the two of you before you left for good.

You most certainly don’t tell Hyori about how you touched yourself to the thought of him almost every night. How you thought about Sunwoo and only Sunwoo when you slept with a man. How no dates ever lasted that long because you always ended up comparing to how Sunwoo used to be. If she found out how you still wanted him, how you wished he would come crawling back to you even if it was just for one night, she would kill you on the spot.

The next time you hear about Sunwoo is exactly two months after your breakup. However, it’s less you hearing about him than it is hearing from him. You thought you’d blocked his number after the first week when Hyori had caught you drunk calling his phone, begging for him to come back to you and to try and make things work. Pathetic is what she’d called you when you’d burst into tears. Desperate is what you’d called yourself when she crushed it under her stiletto. He’d cheated on you, not the other way around, so why were you so desperate for him to forgive you?

Your good friend, Karma, seems to have hit him. His texts had been nonstop since the night before, and phone calls streaming in soon after that never seemed to end.

The first stream of texts were clearly drunk messages:

HFy bsby, plekde clal mfe

Im spory

Seh wasnt wothr if

Babyyyyyyyyy

Then came the voicemails, ones that you keep just for the future:

Hiiiiii baby! I miss you sooooo much, please call me back!

I know that I messed up, but I wanna make it work for us. The sex isn’t the same with her and no one could ever reaaaalllyyyy make me feel like you did. God, that tongue trick where you—”

The audio for that one cuts out, and you can only assume that his friends caught him in time. Something swirls through your gut like a snake—pride, perhaps. Something smug, knowing that you have made him just as desperate as you were. Another emotion curls around you, closer to sorrow knowing that you can’t have him anymore. You won’t have him. Not after what he did to you.

Your phone dings with another text and you put it on silent. The nail tech across from you, the same woman as last time, eyes it carefully.

“That the boy you broke up with?” She asks, painting your nails cherry red. You decided to keep the stiletto shape, loving the sharpness of it and how it accents each outfit you wear.

“Yeah,” you sigh and relax your hands a bit. “Hasn’t shut up since last night.”

“Why haven’t you blocked him yet?” She taps your palm and you slide your hand into the UV light.

“I dunno,” you shrug. Truly you don’t know the answer to that question. Do you miss him? After everything he did, do you really still love him?

“Hm,” The woman huffs and you sink back in your chair. “You should find out.”

“Hello?” Your phone sits on the counter as you cook dinner for yourself. Hyori is gone for the night, something about a date.

“Y/N!” The cheery voice of your ex-boyfriend catches you off guard and the spatula in your hand drops to the counter. “How are you?”

“What the actual fuck?” You turn off the stove, walk over to where your phone is, and stare down at it with nothing but shock on your face. “Why the fuck are you calling me, Kim Sunwoo?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says as if stating the obvious. “Why else would I call?” The amusement in his voice makes your eyes twitch and your teeth grind against each other.

“Is this some sort of sick joke? Did Eunbi put you up to this?” The feeling of your sister’s name leaves a bad taste in your mouth and you have to fight back a gag, placing the back of your hand over your lips.

“Eunbi?” Sunwoo sounds confused now and you can practically see the pout on his plush lips. The same lips that used to—

Down girl.

“Yeah, Eunbi.” You pick at a string on your t-shirt and huff. “My sister. The one you fucked in our bed? Remember her?”

There’s silence on the other end of the line and the the speaker crackles like Sunwoo breathed into it.

“Right. Eunbi. I forgot about that.”

Rage cracks through your veins, sending sparks through your body and your face begins to burn with it.

“You forgot that you fucked my sister?” You’re seething, your heart pounding and your breathing rapid. “Are you fucking kidding me, Sunwoo?”

“Listen,” he drags the syllables out like he had made just a simple mistake. “I only fucked her one time and she wasn’t even that good. I want you, Y/N. Just you.”

You scoff. “Well, you should have thought about that before screwing her and fucking up my credit cards, bitch.”

“Yeah, that I don’t have a defense for,” he sighs again, and there’s a rustling on his end of the line as if he’s adjusting his position or clothing. The burning in your cheeks eases as the silence goes on for a few minutes.

“Why did you call me, Sunwoo?”

“I wanted to talk,” he says simply. “Can you open the door now?”

Your body tenses when three knocks sound at your door. No fucking way did he show up here. For a few seconds, you refuse to move, rooted to your spot in the kitchen and reaching slowly to the knife holder next to you.

“Don’t reach for the knives, babe.” Sunwoo scolds and you drop your hand back to your side. “It was just me and I know you get nervous when you’re home alone.” The anger returns to your body in full swing and you slap your finger down on the red button to hang up. Your footsteps are so loud as you walk to the door that you know the downstairs neighbors will be pissed in a few minutes, but you can’t find yourself really caring about what they think about you.

The lock clicks and you swing the door open, stopping it just before it slams against the wall that you really can’t afford to fix at the moment.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You snap, and Sunwoo grins sheepishly at you. Fuck, he looks good. Too good. Pathetic, maybe, but still good. His jeans hang low on his waist, showing the band of his underwear, and his black shirt has had the sleeves cut off and the hem potentially burned based on how messy it is. His shoes are stained and your nose curls at the mystery colors that could either be crayons or some sort of food he got at a club. You really aren’t sure which; not that you care anyway.

What really gets you is his hair. When you broke up, it had been naturally black and curly. You loved running your hands through it at the end of the night, loved yanking on it to force his lips to move to your clit when he ate you out. It was arguably your favorite feature about him aside from those wide, gorgeous eyes. When you look at him now, his hair is streaked with blond, sloppily done as if he’d done it at home with a grocery bag, cheap bleach, and a few beers on a Monday night. Your stomach churns, but not with anger this time. You recognize the feeling of arousal that pours through your veins and nearly washes away the rage entirely.

“I told you I wanted to talk,” he digs his stained shoes into the dirty rug at the entryway, not looking you in the eyes. “You were ignoring my calls and messages, so I figured I’d stop by and see you. I miss you.”

The pout on his lips is what makes you cave, and you step to the side to allow him into the apartment. You watch him carefully as he tugs his shoes off, letting him gaze around at your new (hopefully) temporary home.

“Cute place you got here—”

“Cut the crap, Sunwoo.” Before I cave and kiss you senseless like a fucking moron. “You wanted to talk. What about?”

He gestures to the couch, pursing his lips as you move past him to take a seat as far from him as possible. It’s tense, the air thick with words that will remain unsaid as long as you can help it. It’s hard to control yourself, though. Hard to keep strong like Hyori taught you when the man you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with is sitting right there looking just so…

Fuckable.

Fuck, maybe you’re just desperate.

“I…” Sunwoo fidgets with his hands, looking down at his lap for a moment. “God this is harder than I thought it would be.”

You soften just a bit, your body sinking into the couch and your legs tucking underneath you.

“I wanted to apologize,” he finally gets out with a tight smile. “For, well, everything. You didn’t deserve how I treated you. I shouldn’t have…slept with Eunbi, and I definitely shouldn’t have run you into debt. It was horrible of me, and I’m sorry.”

You kiss your teeth and he looks at you hopefully. “It was really shitty, Sunwoo. We were together for three years.”

“I know,” he turns fully toward you and reaches forward to take your hands in his. “And I’m sorry.” You search his eyes for a hint of anything that might tell you otherwise.

A smile spreads across your lips when you find exactly what you’re looking for.

Lust. Desperation. The exact emotions that you’d been feeling for the two months it had been since you’d broken up. And, with those emotions found and locked into your brain, you know exactly how to play with him.

“Sunwoo,” you coo and he jumps at the sudden switch of attitude. Your hands pull from his and you let them dance across his thighs. His eyes flick down, watching your hands and trailing up your body ever so slowly and eventually meeting your eyes. “You really mean it, baby?”

His cheeks darken, his lips parting in awe as you lean toward him, your breath fanning his face and sending shivers down his spine.

“Baby,” Sunwoo’s palm comes to rest on your hip, his thumb sliding under your shirt and rubbing gentle circles. “I don’t— are you— I mean aren’t you angry?”

“Of course I’m angry,” you shrug but the smile remains on your lips. Slowly, you begin to move your hand from his thigh to his crotch and press down just enough for his breath to hitch. “That’s why I want you to fuck me.”

He doesn’t move, his hand frozen on your hip, unsure of what to do and how to proceed. Your lips are centimeters from his, your eyes half-lidded and waiting for him to move. He continues to stay frozen, his breath uneven and heavy, so you kiss him. Hard.

You kiss him like you’re drunk—messy and wet, just as you know he likes it. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, pushing at his and forcing him into action. Your heart leaps at the feeling of his hands yanking you into his lap and his chest rumbling with a low groan. His lips move against yours with just as much passion and ferocity, his tongue flicking against yours and shoving past it to try and breach your mouth. He’s holding you so tight, his head shoving forward so you’re forced to lean back, but you’re not one to let him win so you push him back, grabbing his hair in one hand and yanking at the strands until he’s whining your name.

“What, baby?” You coo, pulling away from his lips and licking at the string of spit that connects your lips. “Don’t you like it when I pull your hair?”

Experimentally, you pull again and Sunwoo’s jaw drops open with an airy moan. “Mm, that’s what I thought.”

You connect with him again, biting and sucking and licking at them, enjoying the sounds he makes while he tries to kiss you back. His hands are squeezing your hips so tightly, pulling you down to grind against his jean-clad cock. If he can’t kiss you, he’s gonna make damn sure that you have a hard time focusing. Unfortunately for him, you know all of his tricks. You know exactly what he does and when he does it. For example, if you suck at the skin just beneath his jaw, right next to his Adam’s apple, he lets out such pretty whines.

“Baby,” he gasps out, hips jumping into yours. “Fuck, w-why do you have to k-know me so well?” You just laugh, sucking at the soft skin until it’s practically bruised. Pleased with your work, you bite down just enough for him to yelp before pulling back to admire it.

“You know me, Woo,” you purr, leaning forward again to lick a stripe up his neck and to his lips. They part, his mouth opening for you to lean over and gently kiss him with your tongue delicately brushing against his. Although maybe delicate isn’t quite the right word seeing as the moment your tongue is in his mouth, he starts to suck at it. One of his hands slides from your hip to tangle in your hair, holding you close to him as he sucks at the pink muscle and ruts his hips up into yours. You gasp quietly, just enough for it to get his attention. Sunwoo’s eyes are screwed shut, his hands holding you so tight that you’re afraid you’ll be bruised in the morning.

Who are you kidding, though?

If you aren’t bruised in the morning, you may just kick him out.

“Sunwoo,” you murmur but your words are muffled. He just groans, pulling you closer if it was even possible. “Sunwoo, baby. We’re not fucking on Hyori’s couch.”

“Then we’ll take the floor,” he grunts, pulling away in annoyance. “I haven’t had good sex in two months, I’m not wasting any fucking time on switching rooms.”

You scoff. “I’m not fucking you in my living room.”

He goes to argue with you, but you’re already moving off his lap. “You can’t be serious, baby.” There’s a challenge in your eyes as you reach for the hem of your shirt. Any arguments he may have had are gone the second your shirt hits the ground, your breasts sitting so nicely on your chest with no bra to hide them from his view.

“I’m very serious, Sunwoo.” Your hands move to the band of your shorts, the corner of your lips pulled into a smirk as you slowly pull them down your legs until you’re able to step out of them. As if in a trance, Sunwoo slowly rises to his feet, dragging forward until he’s merely a foot away from you. He reaches a hand out to grab you, but you take a step back. His brows furrow and he tries again but you’re still backing away from him. His trance seems to hold, much to your amusement, watching your breasts bounce with every step away from him until you reach your bedroom.

“You knew that would work.” Sunwoo pouts, but it’s quick to turn into a grin when you finally let him touch you. Immediately he pushes you down onto the mattress, crawling over you until you’re caged beneath him, your eyes wide with lust and anticipation while he tries to figure out where to start. “Fuck, been too long since I’ve seen these pretty tits.”

Your thighs rub together and you draw your bottom lip between your teeth as he shifts down your body until he’s face to face with your chest.

He’s a millimeter away from wrapping his lips around one of your nipples when you suddenly grab his hair and yank him back up, keeping his face in front of yours as you shift onto your knees.

“What the fuck?” He whines, eyes glassy and confused. “What’d you do that for?”

“You didn’t think I’d make it that easy, did you?” You pout at him, mocking him, and his cheeks flush. “After everything you put me through, did you really think I’d make it so easy to get me again?”

“Well, I mean,” Sunwoo gulps, letting out a grunt when you pull his hair again. “Fucking— If you keep doing that, baby, I swear to god I’ll cum in my pants—” You just laugh at him, your eyes gleaming.

“You think a little begging is gonna stop me, Woo? What if,” you lean down until your lips brush against his ear, “I want you to do it?”

Another yank at his hair and his whole body shudders, his hips jerking violently into yours and his mouth dropping open. Loud moans leave his mouth, a bit of drool seeping out of the corner of his lips that you’re quick to swoop down and lick up.

You loved toying with him like this. You loved watching as he desperately tries to hold it together, to keep himself from cumming in his pants like a teenage boy but failing miserably at just one faint touch from you. Your hand falls from his hair, sliding down to his shoulder so you can push him to lie down on your mattress. He lets you, his eyes dazed and confused by what just happened to him but still staring at you with awe.

“You know what you can do to make it up to me, Sunwoo?” You slide his shirt up his torso and he follows your movements, grabbing the fabric once it gets too high and tugging it over his head.

“I’ll do anything, baby, please,” Sunwoo squeezes at your hips and pulls you down over his likely overstimulated cock. “Tell me what to do to make it better.”

“Let me sit on your face,” you purr, “eat me out like the good boy you are. If you make me squirt, I’ll even suck you off before I fuck you.”

“I thought I was fucking you?” Sunwoo cocks an eyebrow and you kiss your teeth.

“Who says both can’t happen?” You retort, shifting your body until your dripping cunt is positioned right over his mouth. “Now get going before I change my mind and you have to fuck a pillow instead.”

Sunwoo wastes no time, his hands coming to grip your hips and pulling you down so you’re fully seated over his mouth. The motion earns him a quiet gasp, one of your hands coming to tangle in his messy hair and the other gripping your headboard. You’re more turned on than you’d let him believe, your cunt practically dripping into his open mouth, and Sunwoo’s body shudders at the familiar taste. You haven’t changed in the eight weeks it’s been since he left you, and neither has he. Truly he missed you, missed the way your body practically molded to his, missed the sounds you made, the way you spoke to him. Fuck, he felt like he was gonna burst in his pants if he wasn’t careful.

Your hips rock into his tongue, forcing the muscle to dip into you just a little more, dipping into your hole before swiping up to your clit. Sunwoo had, when you first started dating, developed this little pattern when he ate you out. He would drag his tongue as far down as he could, slowly work his way up until he found your clit, and would suck and lick and bite at the little nub until you were quivering and begging and soaking his face. He did this over and over, however this time it was different. He worked slowly, letting you work your hips over his face and letting you set the pace. His tongue laves over your clit with no sense of urgency, no hunger. His lips hardly move, but you can feel the way his breathing stutters and you can hear all of his little gasps and whines

Frankly, it pissed you off.

You wanted him to try to take over. You wanted him to try to dominate you, to drive you wild, to rough you up like he always wanted. Here you were giving him free reign to do whatever he would like, and he’s not taking it.

It’s not like him, and it pisses you off so you lift your hips off his face, rolling off his body until you’re sat next to him with a scowl permanently etched into your face. Sunwoo looks up at you, lips contorted into a pout and his eyes fully dazed with confusion.

“Why’d you pull away?” His voice pitches into a whine, his hands reach to grab at your hips and pull you back over him.

“You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” You scoff, leaning back against your headboard and watching him rise onto his knees to look at you.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He leans toward you, hand resting on your thigh, and you smack it away.

“Don’t fucking touch me unless you’re gonna make it worth it for me!” You snap, beginning to slide off the bad.

In that split second, it’s like something clicks in Sunwoo. His pout transforms into a smirk, his eyes glinting with something sly. He follows you off the bed, moving so fast that you could barely blink before you were pinned against your dresser, his hand on the back of your neck and the sound of his belt being undone fills your ears.

“You’ve always been such a brat, haven’t you?” He leans in close, his lips brushing the skin between your shoulder blades. You struggle against him, pushing your hands against the dresser to force him back, but he’s stronger than you and forces you back down until you let your body become limp and pliant in his hold. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it, baby?”

“Fuck you,” you writhe beneath him, the hand not holding you down sliding down your back and cupping your ass in his palm. “Let me go, Kim Sunwoo.”

He kisses his teeth, and you can practically hear the way he smiles smugly at you. “Is that really how you want to talk to me? After all, I’m practically in control of your pleasure here.”

“I can take care of myself just fine.” You retort and turn your head to attempt a glare in his direction.

“You and I both know that you don’t get nearly enough satisfaction without me,” Sunwoo purrs, squeezing the flesh of your ass in his large hand before slipping his fingers down to your sopping wet heat. “You never have.”

He’s right, but you’d rather take a lifetime of nearly worthless orgasms than admit it to his stupid face. Your eyelids flutter when his fingers dip into you, pushing at your pulsing walls and stretching out your cunt to his liking. It’s as if he knows you like the back of his hand.

Scratch that.

Sunwoo does, annoyingly, know you like the back of his hand. Emotionally, physically, any way he could possibly learn. He knew that you loved how it felt when he bit down on the junction between your collarbone and your throat. He knew that you loved when he was rough with you— pulling your hair, spanking you, choking you, bruising your hips with his fingers. He practically marked it in his brain every little sweet spot you had.

So yeah, when he plunges his fingers deep inside you and curls them towards your front wall, just brushing against that sweet spot inside of you and practically forcing a loud moan from your body, you’re a bit peeved. Your whole fucking plan going out the window because your loser of an ex-boyfriend just happens to know you better than you want him to. Why did you have to date him for so long?

“Fuck,” you hiss out and roll your hips back against his hand. “Fuck, Sunwoo, why are you so-o good with your hands?” You stutter, much to your own dismay, and he drops his head against your shoulder.

“Taught only by the best, sweetheart.” His other hand swoops around your front, his index and middle fingers driving against your clit roughly until you’re squirming and crying for him, your head falling against the dresser and your legs threatening to collapse. Sunwoo pulls moan after moan, sob after sob, any noise he knows you can make. He pulls them all from within you until your throat is raw and threatening to crack. “Gonna cum? Gonna cum for your ex-boyfriend, Y/N? What a sick little girl you are— dripping all over my hands, moaning for the man who fucked your life up. Do you feel dirty? Do you know how filthy you are?”

You arch your back against him, tears springing to your eyes as he drives you closer and closer to an orgasm.

“G-gonna cum, Sunwoo,” you gasp out, “fuck, gonna cum all over your hands like a dirty little slut!”

Sunwoo stumbles over his movements for a second, only briefly surprised by your words before he’s picking the pace back up. “That’s right, beautiful. You’re a dirty little slut, huh? You’re my dirty little slut.”

Your walls tense around his fingers, so tight he can barely hold his pace, and your eyes squeeze shut. A sharp bite of pain fills your veins as you bite down on your lip, drawing a bit of blood as you try desperately to hold back the sounds that you know he’s trying to pull out of you. You fail, whining his name and reaching a hand back to tangle in his hair, yanking at the strands as you cum. Your walls flutter around his fingers, your cunt gushing with your slick and dripping down his hand. Sunwoo draws his fingers out of you, leaving you empty but not without the feeling of his other hand rubbing at your clit. The pleasure is overrun with overstimulation, an ache that turns your cries into quiet sobs.

“Sun-Sunwoo,” you plead, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Unfortunately, you find yourself still trapped between his larger body and the wooden dresser. “Pl-please, ‘s too m-much!”

“Oh, is it?” he coos in your ear, nipping lightly at the skin beneath it. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t realize you wanted me to stop.”

When he finishes his sentence he all but rips his hand away from you. Your body immediately falls slack, your arms barely having the strength to catch you as your ex-boyfriend pulls away and works at his belt. Sunwoo watches your trembling body, the smug glint in his eye returning.

“You’re an…an asshole.” Your teeth grit together as you stumble over to him, gripping his jaw in your hand and squeezing tightly. “A true asshole, Kim Sunwoo.”

His body falls back, his hands going from his belt to your waist as you work at the button of his pants. “You love me, though.”

You scoff, “you think I still love you?”

His eyebrow quirks. “Don’t you? Why else would I be here, in your bed, on a random night months after we broke up.” Sunwoo lifts his hips as he speaks, allowing you to pull his clothing down just enough to get his rock-hard cock out.

“Because I haven’t had a good fuck since we broke up,” you say simply, hissing as you sink down on him. You’d dated him for three years and even after all that time, the sting that came with fucking him never went away. “Shit, forgot how big you were.”

His grip on your waist tightens, his jaw ticking as your hips meet his. “And I forgot how tight your little pussy was. Guess we’re both taking a little trip down— son of a bitch—”

Sunwoo cuts himself off with a loud groan as you clench around him, lifting your hips slowly before dropping back down with a loud smack of skin against skin.

“Were you saying something?” Your words come out breathy, a quiet whine following soon after as you begin to grind yourself down on Sunwoo’s cock.

“You’re a fucking menace,” Sunwoo grunts, his eyes squeezing shut and his body going completely slack. His fingers slip from your waist, instead resting on the sides of your thighs. He lets you take control, lets you take as much as you want from him. “I missed you, missed your fucking cunt.” A tight squeeze against your skin before his jaw falls open and loud moans fill the air. You can’t bring yourself to laugh, your focus entirely on holding a steady pace and drawing the knot in your stomach back into place. The sting in your thighs is almost unbearable, almost too much for you, but you’d be damned if you didn’t finish what you started.

Your hands find purchase on Sunwoo’s chest, your dark green nails digging into his chest and breaking the skin. Slowly, ever so slowly, you raise your hips again and let them fall. His tip punches into the sweetest spot inside of you, pushing against it over and over as you repeat your motions. You let your body sink forward, your chest against his and your faces mere centimeters away from each other. You’re so close that you can see the tiny beads of sweat beginning to form on his face, the way his eyelashes flutter.

“Such a pretty boy, hm?” You murmur, dipping your head down and licking away a bead of sweat on his jawline. “So pretty, so good for me.” Your walls flutter again and Sunwoo wwhines, taking hold of your ass with both hands.

“C-can’t—” Sunwoo gasps out, but his words become choked moans. “Fuck, you- you feel t-too good.”

You laugh, sucking a hickey into his golden skin, biting at the purple mark when you’re finished. “Only the best for you, baby.”

His hips begin to thrust into yours, his hands holding your body in place as he chases an orgasm that’s so close that he can practically taste it. You watch as his eyes roll back, your own drifting shut as you let pleasure overcome you again. He doesn’t stop, and you don’t want him to, even when liquid spurts out of you and coats his lower body, your sheets, and everything beneath the two of you. Even when his cum drips out of you in thick white globs and smears against your skin. He doesn’t stop until his hips are jerking and not a single drop of cum can be pulled from his cock.

Your body is shaking, but you find enough strength to pull your body away from his, sinking to your knees in front of him. Sunwoo can barely lift his head to watch you, his hand lacing into your hair as you take his softening cock into your mouth and suck gently at it, moaning at the taste of your cum mixing together, You place your hands on both of his thighs, sucking and licking until there’s nothing left, leaving him half-hard and twitching in your mouth.

“You’re fucking insatiable, sweetheart,” Sunwoo moans so prettily, trying to tug you off of him. You giggle, letting him pull you off but dropping your head to give his balls the same attention you’d given his cock. “Son of a— baby, baby wait—”

You pull off him when he says that, laying your cheek on his thigh and watch him try to catch his breath. His chest heaves, his grip on your hair tightening and loosening repeatedly in an attempt to ground himself.

“Had enough?” Your lips press against his warm skin and he scoffs.

“You’re terrible.”

“Mm…is that so?” you press another kiss and he sits up, sliding his hand from your hair to your chin and grabbing it between his thumb and pointer to pull you toward him.

“I fucking love you.” The kiss he gives you is hot, wet, and messy. His tongue dips into your mouth pushing further and further until he’s practically in your throat before pulling back and staring down at you. “My little minx.”

You smile, eyes fluttering when he closes the gap between your mouths again.

“What the fuck? Sunwoo stares at you from the couch cushion, eyes narrowed into a glare. “You’re— what the fuck?”

“I want you out of my apartment.” You shrug, crossing your arms as you sip at your coffee. “Simple as that.”

“But I—” he shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes as he tries to comprehend what you’re saying. “I thought that you— I thought we had a good time. I thought you…that you wanted me back. I don’t— I don’t understand.”

“You thought I wanted you back?” You scoff, lips twitching into a smirk. “What gave you that idea?”

“Maybe the fact that you said you did!”

You kiss your teeth and set your coffee down on the counter behind you. Sunwoo watches your every move, feet tapping against the carpet beneath him.

“Sunwoo, do you know what my favorite kink is?”

“I don’t fucking know, somnophilia?”

You can’t help but laugh at his response, tilting your head back and putting a hand on your chest. Sunwoo, however, isn’t laughing. He looks at you with confusion and anger, a mix of emotions you can relate to all too well.

“You’re so funny, baby.” You’re close enough now that you’re able to sit beside him and let your hand tangle in his hair. You practically straddle him, one leg thrown across his lap and your lips sucking at his neck, adding to the…decorations you had left the night before. “But no, it’s not. Close!”

He leans into your touch, although it may be a bit reluctantly if the look on his face is anything to go off of.

“What is it, then? Hm? What, do you have some sort of like, secret piss kink?” He pulls your face toward his, kissing you and almost making you doubt your decision.

“Ew, Sunwoo,” you wrinkle your nose, scratching your nails lightly on the back of his neck and relishing in the goosebumps forming under your skin. “Karma. That’s my favorite kink.”

“And why is that?” He noses at your jawline. “Why would you wish karma on me, hm? Don’t you like how I touch you?” You tilt your head back, humming as he mouths at your throat.

“Of course I do,” you admit. “But I also have self-respect. And you fucked my sister.” He tenses, pulling back from you.

“I thought you were over that?”

“Why would I get over you fucking my sister?” you smack the back of his head and stand from the couch. “You’re a fucking idiot, Kim Sunwoo, and I truly hope I never see your face again.”

“You can’t be serious.” He’s standing too, reaching a hand toward you in a desperate attempt to get you to talk to him. “C’mon, baby. Isn’t this too much? We would be so happy together!”

“We tried that once before,” you push him back, forcing him closer to the door. “And it didn’t end well.”

“I made a mistake, so what?!” He snaps, almost dropping his shoes as you shove them into his arms. “I admit it! I was wrong! I shouldn’t have cheated on you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I want you to get the fuck out of my apartment and never speak to me again, actually.” You open the door, waving your hand in a shooing motion. “Bye now!”

He tries to speak again, but the door slamming in his face stops him. You breathe out a sigh of relief, leaning back against the cold metal, and close your eyes.

“He took that shockingly well,” the door of Hyori’s room clicks shut as she steps into the living room, and you open your eyes to look at her. You smirk a bit, letting your body relax.

“I expected him to try fucking me again.”

“Honestly so did I,” she hands you the mug of coffee you’d set down and takes her seat on the couch. “Was it worth it?”

“Hm?” You tilt your head.

“You know,” she waves her hand at the door. “That. Was fucking him and kicking him out really worth it?”

You shrug. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, I at least got some good shit out of it.”

“A good fuck.�� Hyori agrees.

“And some money.” You smile, that same smug smile that Sunwoo had been flashing you all night. It was almost uncanny, and you watch Hyori’s nose wrinkle.

“He paid you?”

“Ew, no, I realize that came out wrong.”

“Oh,” she sighs. “Thank god, I thought I would have to smack some sense into you and then take the money for myself.”

“No, never like that.” You shake your head and smile. “More like the money that was in his wallet.”

Hyori barks out a laugh. “Yeah, right. You had the time to get the money from his wallet between everything that…that was happening…” she trails off, sinking back in her cushion as you pull a massive wad of cash and a credit card out of the drawer in the side table next to you. “Holy shit, how did you…how did he not notice?”

“I’m a very good distraction,” you shrug.

“Why did you…why the fuck did you do that?” She’s appalled and, for the record, you completely understand why. However, you have a perfectly good reason.

You only shrug in response to her question.

“Isn’t it obvious? Karma.”

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