realexotrash

[realexotrash]

ohh my!! \(°o°:)/ I loved "sharing is caring"! , I was wondering if u could do more spider smut, please!!(no rush tho! <3)

The Na‘vi way

adult Spider x female recom reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: To walk, eat, talk and even think like a Na‘vi, that was one thing. But to dress like one? That was a whole new level of commitment just to get this job done.

Warnings: explicit smut, just a small size difference, oral (f receiving), masturbating, fingering, praise kink, teasing, sexual tension, semi-public, hair pulling, tail pulling, Spider is a smug little bastard

Notes: I just realized that I completely forgot about Spiders mask so let’s just pretend he can breathe just fine without it… 🤦🏻‍♀️ Anyways, as you can see I‘m still not that confident in my ability to write for Spider and it somehow feels like he’s not as characteristically accurate as Id like him to be, but I still hope you guys will enjoy this! Let me know what you think pls I’d love to improve my spidey writing skills lmao 🥴

"This is ridiculous…", you mumbled as you peered down on yourself.

To walk, eat, talk and even think like a Na‘vi, that was one thing. To be fair, it was an easier said than done task for your squad. But to dress like one? This was a whole new level of commitment just to get this job done!

Spider thought it was amusing, watching the recoms get used to wearing loincloths and such, all in order to put themselves into their enemies position. That was, until it was your turn to get dressed. Or, well, get undressed.

Spider couldn’t help but stare at you for a good while, now wearing a loincloth and also a skimpy woven top that barely covered more than a few inches of skin. You were seemingly having a hard time getting comfortable with your new clothes, as you were trying your absolute most to hide yourself with your arms crossed over your chest.

He was used to seeing omatikaya women in less coverings than that, but still. There was just something about you showing that much amount of bare skin that had him feeling a little dizzy.

Snapping out of his thoughts before you could even realize that he was ogling at you, Spider cleared his throat, "It’s not ridiculous. Now you actually look like true Na‘vi."

"Lookin' good, buttercup", comes from beside you both, with a snickering laugh that made your cheeks light up bright red. "Fuck off, Wainfleet", you grumbled, "Let’s just get this over with…"

The idea was, to spend an entire day learning how to hunt, with nothing more than a bow and arrows, while also being dressed like a bunch of wannabe Na‘vi. Truth be told, Spider didn’t know if that would actually help them dealing with Jake, but it wasn’t like he was ever planning on actually helping them and betray his (more or less) adoptive family. After all, he was nothing more than a prisoner of war and maybe that was his payback for the way they had treated him so far. Couldn’t hurt to make a little fun out of a group of recoms that had no idea what they were even doing out here, right?

For someone who wasn’t even used to handling guns and such, you did pretty well with a bow.

As far as Quaritch had introduced his squad to him, Spider knew that you were some sort of combat medic, usually just jumping around to treat injuries and make sure nobody dies under your watch. You worked with the military, but you weren’t a soldier. You were also around an head or two smaller than the other woman, Zdinarsk or whatever her name was, which was a nice change, because for once Spider didn’t need to crane his neck entirely to talk to someone. You were pretty much eye level with him, in more than just one way. Compared to the others, you were friendly and kind, and at least you tried to be thoughtful of the environment out here.

When the eclipse neared, the recoms began to set up a small camp in the forest to rest for the night, finally done with todays 'lessons'. There was a river gurgling by and when the Colonel gave permission, you separated from the others to get washed up and redress.

"Oh, no. No. That’s not happening", Spider shakes his head at Lyle who was currently about to set up a small campfire. "What now, pinky?", the recom barks at him, haltering all movements to look at the human with painted on stripes.

"No fire in the forest, bro. That’s an unspoken rule. You’re gonna get us killed if—", Spider tried to warn him, but was cut off short, by the sound of someone calling his name in the distance. Turning to it’s direction and then back to Weinfleet, he points a warning finger at him and says, "no fire", before he’s off to whom had called him.

A little further away, down at the river, he finds you. Your brows are furrowed in what seems to be concentration and frustration at the same time. As he steps closer, he spots the source of your distress.

"Spider, oh thank god. Could you help me with this, please", you grumble, your hands busy fumbling with the tangled cords of your loincloth. "I can’t get this shit off…" The blonde can’t help but laugh when you groan in frustration.

"You have to untie it like this. No, no like—", he tries to verbally guide you, but you seemingly make things worse with the way you impatiently pull at each tiny knot, the strings now tangled between your legs and over your hips. It’s a mess.

"Here, let me help you", Spider then sighs and lowers himself onto one knee before you.

Normally, the woven cords that hold the cloth covering your crotch in place are supposed to be wrapped around your tail. Thanks to whatever you did, or tried to do here, they were now wrapped and tangled around one of your thighs.

"Open your legs a little", he tells you and you do as your told, making room so he could untangle you from this mess. One of his hands is firm on your thigh and you try to ignore the warmth of his palm and the way he unintentionally squeezes the soft of you flesh, while his other hand flips your loincloth up. "Hold this", Spider doesn’t wait for you to respond, already shoving the piece of fabric into your hands to hold it up and out of the way.

He’s entirely too close like this, you think.

You could feel his breath fan over your skin, his thumb on the inside of your thigh, while his other hand reached back and forth between your legs, slowly untangling you.

You had to admit, it’s been a while since the last time someone came this close to you, which made the whole situation so much… worse. Adverting your gaze from the man crouching in front of you, you tried to think of anything else than his hands so incredibly close to your private parts and the way it made you feel so on edge, that you had to concentrate on your breathing.

Meanwhile, Spider attempted to find something to focus on other than the textured rope holding the two halves of your loincloth together. It rode low. Pinching the flesh over your hipbones, like it was squeezing, teasing. There was also his hand, both of them entirely too close to your—

Glancing up, he found your eyebrows scrunched together as if you were concentrating very hard. You looked up at the sky and your chest raised and fell in deep breaths, seemingly trying to calm yourself.

You couldn’t have been more obvious if you tried.

With a hand still firm on your thigh, Spider gently squeezes the soft flesh to test the waters. A smug grin spreads on his face when you don’t immediately tell him to stop, your eyes still glued to anywhere but him. He knows it’s risky, knows it’s probably not the best idea, but he can’t help himself. His hand moves a little higher, until his thumb is barely an inch away from the thin cloth covering your sex. He traces the outline of your cunt, just a teasing touch that, if your senses weren’t on high alert already, you wouldn’t even have noticed.

A small gasp escapes you, when he adds a little more pressure on his thumb, but you still don’t tell him to stop. You only shift your stance slightly, your hands still holding the front of your loincloth in a tight grip. A task for which you were grateful for, otherwise you wouldn’t even know what to do with your hands.

Spider gently brushes his digit over the thin covering between your legs, feeling the delicate outline of your clit, until a small wet patch formed right there. A mouth watering sight. He watches intensely, how you let your head fall back, how you squeeze your eyes shut and a deep blush spreads on your blue cheeks that made them look a little purplish. He had to admit, you were adorable like this.

Dutiful to his task, he then pulls his hand away in order to untie the final string, and your loincloth slowly falls off of you.

"There, all done", the blonde says softly, smiling up at you. A beat passes in silence, with just the two of you looking at each other, and Spiders hands still firm on your thigh. Your lips are parted slightly, as if you were trying to say something, but your voice was nowhere to be found. His thumb rubs gentle circles over the soft blue skin of your inner thigh, and you exhale a shaky breath. The blush on your cheeks deepens, when his gaze falls to the glistening folds of your cunt, right in front of his face, and then back up at you.

"Can I?", he asks, to which you nod and whisper a breathless, "please."

It’s all he needs to hear to return his hand between your thighs, index finger swiping through your folds to locate your clit. His fingertip circles the tiny nub gently, while he pays close attention to the buckle of your knees when he touches it just right. Arousal begins to heat up your blood as he slides his digits from your clit to your entrance. Your breath hitches.

"You’re so wet", Spider murmurs, grinning, "Did you enjoy walking around like that today?"

"Shut up…", you whisper, although it sounds more like a whimper to him. With a chuckle, he continues his teasing touches, running a hand up and down your thigh while the other smears your slick back and forth.

His fingertips are featherlight as they tease the little nub of pleasure, drawing circles around it before he slides them back and dips them into you– just an inch, and your legs tremble. There’s a sound coming from deep within your chest as he repeats the same motion again, and it almost sounds like—

"Are you purring?", Spider snickers, "Fuck, that’s so cute." Before you can talk back however, his face inches closer and then his tongue darts out to give a kitten lick to your clit. Instantly, your hands fist into his locks to anchor yourself. A breathless moan slips past your lips once he flattens his tongue against you, groaning at the taste.

"Spider, the– the others…", you swallow thickly, trying to collect your rapid breathing, "they’re going to hear!"

"Hmh", he hums in agreement, glancing up to give you a teasing wink. "Guess you‘ll have to be more quiet then."

His mouth his back on you in a heartbeat, lips closing around your clit and then he sucks and your eyes flutter close in bliss. You have to bite down on your bottom lip, hard, in order to stay quiet, but it only gets worse when he finally inserts a finger into you.

"Oh, holy shit", you moan, quickly clasping a hand over your mouth.

Then, he wriggles a second finger in beside the first one, and starts to ease them out together, then back in, a slow, slick push. You squirm, high pitched moans falling from your lips, muffled against your palm, and then a choked and breathless noise as Spider settles into a slow rhythm, pushing in deep and curving to brush something inside you that has you clenching greedily around the digits.

Meanwhile his tongue continues to lap at your clit, rolling it over every inch of the wet, warm muscle before closing his lips around it again. He sucks, kisses and slurps and it’s so obscene, you can barely look.

It feels so good every time he curves his fingers into you, hooking and pressing at that special spot, that you don’t even realize how hard you had been pulling on his hair. But Spider doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he’s groaning into you like he enjoys this more than you do.

Your mind felt fuzzy, clouded with the squelching sounds he expertly worked out of your pussy until you were gasping and panting for air.

"S-Spider I‘m– wait, I‘m close, I’m gonna come", you half whisper, half whine, tugging his hair to make him stop for a second to look up at you.

His pupils are almost completely blown as his gaze meets yours, the bottom half of his face glistening in your slick and that smug little bastard has the nerve to smirk like a cat that got the cream.

"And?", he raises a brow, almost making a show out of licking his lips clean.

"You didn’t, I mean… you still haven’t–"

"That’s why you’re making me stop?", he chuckles like he can’t believe it, but then his eyes flash like an idea pops up in his mind.

The hand that had been resting on your thigh moves, slides down your leg before it finds the waistband of his own loincloth. With half lidded eyes you watch him pull his cock out, hard and leaking pre-cum in rich droplets that ooze from the slit of his tip, and you catch yourself swallowing at the sight.

Spiders hand closes tight around his shaft, giving himself a slow tug that makes him moan softly, and then his mouth is back on you. He’s stroking himself now, to the rhythm of his fingers that are pumping in and out of you. The low groans coming from him vibrates against your clit and you throw your head back at the pleasurable feeling.

He’s incredibly skilled with his mouth, you realize, aiming just right with the pointy tip of his tongue as he swipes over your clit in fast, tight circles. With the way he simultaneously scissors you open, it’s no surprise how quickly he can get you close again.

"F-Fuck, oh fucking hell", you moan in a whisper, "So good, feels so good! Oh– my god!"

Spiders cock throbs in his fist at the sound of your praise and he strokes himself faster, harder, teasing the slit with his thumb, imagining it’s your tongue instead. His eyes are shut and his brows are knit together in concentration as he makes out with your clit, feeling it twitch on his tongue and your walls spams around his digits.

He’s full on groaning, grinding his face between your thighs as he feels his own orgasm approach, he just needs a little more, just—

"C’mon, pretty. Come for me", he muffles almost desperately against you, fingers curling against your sweet spot at just the right angle and then you tug on his hair to get his lips back to your clit and that’s all it takes. With a hand clasped tight over your mouth to muffle your screams of pleasure, coming undone on his tongue, clamping down on his fingers and sending him clean over the edge with you.

Hips raising and pushing up into his fist, Spider comes with a choked off groan, sucking on your clit so hard it felt like you were going to collapse if he didn’t let up anytime soon.

"O-Okay, okay, fuck– Spider, s-stop", you half giggle, half moan, before he finally withdraws from between your thighs with a last kiss that makes your hips buck into it.

"Holy shit, where did you learn that?", you laugh breathlessly, genuinely impressed, as you watch him rearrange his loincloth and straighten back up.

But Spider just shrugs sheepishly and grins, "Well… it’s hard being the only one of the very few humans in the village. I had to find some way to impress, you know?"

"Hmh, I see", you giggle, nodding along. There’s a moment of comfortable silence that follows, and as you bend down to pick up your clothes. But then a warm hand settles on your hips.

A smiles tugs on your lips.

"I could show you what else I’ve learned", Spider murmurs, tilting his head to meet your eyes over your shoulder. You glance back at him, watching as he steps closer until his crotch makes contact with the curve of your ass. "Could show you the real Na’vi way." He smirks, then adds, "If you want."

His fingertips trace the arch of your spine until he reaches the base of your tail, where he closes his hand around it and tugs, firm but gentle. But it’s enough to send a full on body shiver through you, and your eyes widen in surprise as you feel a familiar tingle between your thighs.

Well. That’s new.

[realexotrash]

I (Don’t) Hate You

Spider Socorro x Fem! Human Reader

Warnings ⚠️: Eating out, Fingering, Penetration (P! In V!)

MDNI 🔞

Literally noticed the lack of Spider fics and decided to write one, it’s technically an “enemies” to lovers but I’m not sure exactly how that pans out

Not proofread I’m lazy… and once I finish writing I like to get this out to you guys as soon as possible.

Word Count: 5k

Max had asked me a question about potentially working with Spider for some kind of project that he and Norm had been wanting to test out, some kind of scientific hypothesis that if something then something- to be fair I wasn’t really the best at listening once someone was to mention Spider and I doing anything together. It wasn’t that I was willing- wait- it totally was. I just couldn’t see myself actually doing anything remotely scientific with him when all he cared about was chasing after the Sully children and pretending to be one of them, he didn’t think in a scientific way, meaning this project was dead from the beginning.

“Well, why not?” Max asks after I had told him no in a serious tone, having taken into account that he’d managed to drag Spider away from the Sully’s long enough to ask me this question, but I wasn’t really in the mood to have to explain everything to him, scoffing at his question before answering.

“Because I don’t do well with idiots around the lab all day,” I had a lot more to say than just that, but felt it was better to keep my answer short and simple, I held my nose up high not really wanting to listen to any reasoning Max might have had to proving that this was worth trying, I was also mentally exhausted from the back-and-forth Spider and I usually did and it wasn’t beneficial to anyone involved.

“And I don’t do stuck-up bitches, yet here I am.” Spider speaks up for the first time since being here and I was genuinely shocked, my mouth hanging open at his comment, to be fair this was expected of him, he never took anything serious and it was starting to show, I’d never even hung out with him and I was being proven right, his smirk was starting to make an appearance on his face and his arms crossed against his chest.

“Spider,” Max started off, the tone in his voice indicating he had been warning him to knock it off, but I’d had enough.

“You’re such a dick, you know that?”

“Y/n!” Max yelled before I crossed my own arms.

“You think that just because you put on some body paint you’ll be able to be one of them? News flash, you aren’t, you never will be, just because everyone in here didn’t want us when we were born doesn’t mean someone out there will, think with your brain and stop wasting everyones time.” I rolled my eyes as I spoke my heart out, seeing a certain look of disappointment flash on his face before it was replaced with one of anger.

“The only one wasting anyones time here is you, you think you’re one of them? You aren’t, you’re the annoying reject they had to train, at least the natives care about me, nobody cares about you.” Spider was quick to retaliate and I could feel anger bubbling within my body as he spoke, ready to strike back with hurtful words of my own, without thinking about anything I’d been saying and spewing the hate right back to him.

“At least my parents-”

“Thats enough!”

I gasped in sharply as I felt my arm getting yanked, a big blue hand had wrapped itself around my bicep and began quickly walking toward the opposite direction, my legs having no choice but to follow blindly at whoever had just stopped our conversation, sentence dying on my tongue before I was shoved inside a room, falling onto my bottom, the big blue face I’d come to recognize as Norm in his avatar state was the last thing I saw before the door closed.

I only stood and walked back over to the door and attempted to punch my security code on it to get out, eyebrows furrowed in anger at having been tossed in here like I was a wild animal, but to my surprise the keypad blinked red three times, signifying that my code was not validated.

“What-“ I stated before typing my code in again and watching the light blink red once more.

“Norm!” I yelled through the room I’d been tossed in.

“We’re tired of hearing the two of you squabble at one another like its a fucking world war, we’re going to be leaving the lab for an hour so you can get everything out of your system, you guys have better made up by then.” He yells through the door before I can hear receding footsteps, it wasn’t until I turned around at his words that I realized Spider had also been in here.

Time had gone by slowly, I could have sworn I had been stuck in here for the allotted time Norm had stated, but luckily I had been wearing an old wristwatch that still worked, the time on it reading fifteen minutes past when we’d first been placed in here. I could only count the tiles in front of me so many times.

My eyes land on Spider as I see he’d backed up against a wall, hands crossed over his chest, a leg propped up against the wall, I wanted to yell at him but I didn’t have it in me to start another fight.

It wasn’t my intention to have gotten him angry, but the fact that we’d both been seething from what we had said earlier kept the both of us quiet, every time I glanced up at him I could feel a sharp heat slicing through my stomach as I thought up of a quick witted response to whatever it was he’d decided to say.

“Are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to say something worth of my time?” He asks without so much as a glance in my direction, I scoffed but turned my face away from his.

“We wouldn’t be in this mess if you kept your mouth shut.” I stated as my anger begins to simmer in my vessels, attempting to hold back more of the nasty words I had to say.

“You’re joking, right?” He chuckles darkly as he turns to look at me, leaning against the wall with one foot up, arms crossed against his chest again.

“If you hadn’t called me an idiot I wouldn’t have had to call you a stuck-up bitch.”

“Are you really saying this is all my fault?” I ask as I start closing the distance between us, knowing better than to get close to him right now, but my anger was starting to rise to an all-time-high with him.

“If the fuckin’ shoe fits.”

“I can’t wait until we get out of here so I don’t have to see your stupid face.” I stated as I finally catch up to him, neck straining slightly at how tall he was, for being out with the natives he grew taller than any of us that stayed in here.

“My stupid face, what are you, three?” He asks as he looks down at me, smirk forming on his face, feeling helpless in this situation and wanting to throw a tantrum, but composing myself as much as I could.

“Wipe that stupid smirk off your stupid face.” Well, there goes my composure, straight out the metaphorical window, and I do admit my comebacks need some work, I did sound like a three year old.

“Or what?” He leans down with a scowl plastered on, his face centimeters away from mine, and I’d made the mistake of looking down at his lips, realizing how full they were, my own scowl dropping as I observed his lips, eyes meeting his and seeing he too had dropped his scowl.

I blinked before he’d closed the distance between us and his lips were on mine, I’d closed my eyes out of instinct, letting myself get lost in the kiss we’d shared, a lot of rage melting away as our lips moved against each other. His hands had been quick to be placed on my waist as he deepened the kiss, effortlessly pulling me closer toward his body, and the warmth radiating off of him had temporarily rid me of the goosebumps I’d gotten from being trapped inside this metal box.

He’s quick to switch our positions, my feet almost stumbling until the back of my waist was pushed against the wall he’d been leaning up against, he’d used his hands to guide themselves on my shirt, tugging on it from behind as I moved my hips out of the way for him to gain better access, accidentally grinding myself against his length.

He let out a hiss as he disconnected our lips, quickly redirecting his lips toward my jaw, inching toward my neck in a teasing manner as he untucked my shirt from the pants they’d been in. I raise my arms up almost instinctively and he begins bunching the shirt in his hands before lifting it off my body, he tosses the shirt back and places his hands on my breasts as he finds my pulse point and sucks.

“Spider~” I whine as his hand snakes underneath the bra I had been wearing and uses his thumbs to caress my nipples.

“I like you better when you have nothing else to say,” He mutters before reaching one hand around my back to unclasp my bra, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was quite a turn on to have witnessed him doing it one handed.

I’m quick to shrug the straps of my bra off and toss it toward one side, not giving him the satisfaction of having said anything else, my own hands reaching for his cheeks as I bring his mouth onto mine, feeling his tongue swipe against my bottom lip, I gasped and feel as he slides his tongue inside my mouth and finding mine before licking it.

“Mm,” I squeak out and feel his hands on my hips again, one hand snaking up to pinch my nipple, as the other caresses my hip lightly. His lips once again traveling off of my own and down toward my neck, skipping over the pulse point he’d suckled earlier and heading towards my collarbones.

I could anticipate his lips getting closer to my breasts and pushed my chest into his face, earning a chuckle from him as his other hand abandons my hip to pinch my other nipple, a low moan reverberating inside my throat.

“You like this, don’t you?” He asks rhetorically.

“Spider,” I whine as I crave his attention on my nipples once more, my face feeling flushed with his words, avoiding eye contact from him until one of his hands grasp my chin gently.

“Tell me what you want.” He mutters low enough for me to hear, but clear enough to have made it a demand, I could only whimper as I look into his eyes, already darkened with lust.

I whine again after a pause of silence, attempting to move my hips to grind against his, only to feel one of his hands coming down to press against my hip, making my ass touch the wall behind me.

“Don’t make me ask again.” He’s clear in his statement and I swallow another whimper, attempting to appear bold as I bite my lip with indecisiveness.

“I want you,” I admit, seeing a smile grace his features, I’ve just come to the realization that I’d enjoyed seeing his smile, his eyes bounce between mine before placing his hand on the babd of my pants, silently asking permission, my heart beats faster upon this action, nodding almost too quickly.

He grabs my pants full force and unbuttons them, pulling them down my legs and stopping once he reaches my knees, given they were khaki shorts I shimmied my legs, taking a step out of them, using my other leg to lick them off God know’s where.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous,” He responds and I can feel my lips curl into a smile, he gently places his hands on the waistband of my underwear, a look on his face telling me he’s silently asking for permission to pull them down, I could feel my face heating up at how much of a gentleman he was.

I give him a small nod before feeling him start to slide my underwear down with a sense of desperation, only managing to bring it down past my knee’s before he’s back up again, I take it as my cue to kick off my underwear the same way I’d done with my pants, not really caring where it had gone.

I feel him dip down slightly, face coming toward my chest as he places his hands behind my thighs, I immediately jump and feel his strong arms wrap themselves around my thighs, but he doesn’t stop lifting me up to wrap my legs around his waist, but rather settling me up so high, my back is leaning against the wall and my legs were placed along his shoulders.

“Spider,” I stated uncertainly, the cool metal starting to cool me down and bring me back to my senses.

“It’s okay, I got you,” He gives my thigh a comforting squeeze.

“Aren’t I too heavy?” I asked as the uncertainty had started creeping through my mind.

He only keeps his eyes on me as his face comes close to my cunt, the heat that had started dwindling with the coolness of the metal on my back was starting to come back, and the moment his tongue comes out to lick a fat stripe against my pussy has me gasping lightly, immediately biting my lip in an attempt to control my hips from thrusting in his face.

The second lick he does has a moan tickling the back of your throat, his tongue flattening to cover more of the surface area, I was tempted to toss my head back, but the hold his dark chocolate eyes held on me kept me locked into place.

The third lick was starting to drive me wild as he finally delved his tongue in, tasting my juices and allowing the tip to flick against my clit, a moan I’d cut off had slipped out as I shifted my weight slightly, lifting my hips up a bit and watching his eyes crinkle as he smiles.

“Spider,” I breathe out, unsure of what it was I was even asking for, until he finally dips his tongue back on me, honing in on my clit, circling his tongue around it.

I allowed myself to throw my head back, feeling as my hand lifts up and grabs a fistful of his dreadlocks.

“Oh fuck,” I whined, rolling my hips against his tongue as I closed my eyes, losing myself in the pleasure, the grip on my thighs getting stronger as he attempts to hold my hips still.

He doesn’t waste any time in moving his muscle faster, my hips fighting against his hands, a growl dripping from my lips as I squeeze my eyes tightly.

“I’m coming-“ I grasp his dreads tightly as I feel my walls closing over nothing as he continues to bring me pleasure by continuing to lick me, holding me steadily as he allows me to ride out my orgasm.

Once I’d felt like I had enough I loosened my hold on his hair and paw at his forehead to get him to stop, he brings his own face back and I felt spent, dropping my hips in a slumped position and noticing the shiny cum on Spiders mouth and chin.

Taking a second to catch my breath I continue staring between his eyes and shiny mouth, a smile forming on my own lips as a thought came to my head, It wasn’t my intention to piss him off but I could have a little fun teasing him.

“Enjoy your meal?” I stated and watch him smirk, affectively letting go of my thighs, I yelp and jump slightly at the feeling if my security being gone before he places his hands on my waist, carefully setting me down.

“Spider!” I angrily stated while playfully hitting his shoulder.

“I like it better when you’re moaning it out instead,” He corners me against the wall before planting a quick kiss on my lips, hands finding my waist, thumbs rubbing against my skin deliciously.

“Why don’t you,” I trailed my hand down his abs and place my finger on the band of his loincloth, watching as my eyes trailed down alongside my hand, linking my finger in it in and tugging at it slightly before my eyes meet his.

“Take this off,” I began as I use my other hand to repeat the action, now gently tugging on his loincloth, practically begging it to come off.

“So I can please you.” I ended my comment by taking both fingers out from the band, and using one hand to cup his hardened length, eyes coming up again to meet his, only to find him looking down at my hand, lips caught between his teeth.

“I have a better idea.” He mumbles as he settles his body to sit flush against mine, he didn’t seem too concerned with discarding his loincloth as he brings his lips on mine once more, igniting the fire in my core.

His hands aren’t gentlemanly as they roam around my body, greedily mapping out my body as his tongue dances with mine, his knee digs itself between my legs and I’m forced to spread myself just so he can fit in, not minding this situation one bit as one of his hands dive deeper.

He manages to slide his index finger between my slick folds, brushing up against the clit he’d abused earlier, a muffled moan coming from me while his lips were on mine, his hand working its way further down until he shoves his finger in without warning.

My gasp gives him a second to shove his tongue back down my throat, my legs spreading further to allow his hand enough space to work its magic, another muffled moan slipping past my lips.

“Spider~” I moaned again as I move my head toward the side with his kisses leading to my neck once more.

A second finger finds itself shoved inside my pussy and a long moan follows after, the way he’s allowing me to adjust to the sheer size of his fingers was more than generous, slowly inserting both fingers and feeling the delicious stretch filling my senses, his mouth connecting with my nipple had fueled the fire stirring in my belly.

“Spider please,” I whine as his fingers are moving terribly slow, I could take his fingers moving faster as I usually did this to myself, but having someone else do it felt so much better.

“Yeah, What do you want?” He asks as his fingers start going faster but even then it wasn’t enough, my knees still buckle under the pleasure and I was having a hard time concentrating on standing, but I was craving more.

“I want you to fuck me-“ I stated, feeling my face growing hotter at my own words, not caring at the moment as I knew what I wanted.

He doesn’t say anything but curls his fingers inside me, hitting a delicious spot that made me see stars, I could only throw my head back.

“Spider!” I moan again, letting a longer one roll out of my mouth as I desperately attempt to scratch the itch of my growing orgasm, my own hips snapping against his hand to meet his thrusts and feeling as though something was missing.

“I like when you say my name like that,” He speaks rather huskily, taking his fingers out of my cunt, bringing his fingers toward his mouth and letting a moan of his own sneak past him.

“You taste divine,” He mumbles as if he hadn’t just ate me out earlier.

“Please take this off,” I whine as my fingers sneak into the waistband of his loincloth, tugging rather harshly just to hear him chuckle at my desperation, I only found my eyes drifting up to meet his.

“Please,” I find myself begging silently, my voice barely above a whisper, seeing his eyes soften as he brings his hand toward my cheek.

“Lie down,” He seems to accept what I’d been wanting as his other hand reaches where his loincloth is tied, nodding at his command as I bring myself down to the cold floor, lying down and watching as he settles onto his knees on the floor, pulling on the string and watching as his loincloth finally slides off his body.

I watch as his cock springs up, slapping him in the belly, precome coating the tip and my breath being dragged out as I stared. The tip of his cock was rather big and he was thick all around, sure he wasn’t as big as my forearm, but staring at him made me question if it was going to fit.

“Like what you see?” He asks cockily, his own hand coming down to squeeze his balls and the base of his cock all together.

I could feel the saliva coating my mouth as I desperately wanted to taste him, feeling myself gulp rather loudly before my eyes go up toward his again.

“Is it going to fit?” I asked with uncertainty, feeling my legs closing subconsciously, I watch as his eyes trail down toward my legs, then back up toward my eyes before he crawls up toward me, his body hovering over mine as he leans down to kiss my forehead gently.

“We can stop if you’d like,” He begins but I shake my head.

“N-no, I want to, I’m just nervous.” I was quick to answer, not wanting to ruin what we had going on at the moment, placing my hands on either of his cheeks and using my thumb to caress his face.

“I trust you,” I stated and feel him nod, his dreads forming themselves around his face so perfectly, I smiled while spreading my legs wider to fit him in.

“This might hurt at first,” He begins as he grasps his cock with one hand, placing it close to my cunt and pushing his cock between the lips of my slick, the head of him rubbing against my clit.

“That feels good,” I moan and feel him continue to stimulate my clit, my legs spreading wider, my eyes closing softly as I focus on the pleasure.

“You ready?” His husky voice breaks me out of my happy place but I nod.

He slides his cock down and I feel it catch as he slowly pushes the tip inside, the stretch feeling wider than that of his fingers, but the feeling was incredible.

“More-“ I shimmy my hips down closer, feeling more of his cock sliding in, the stretch starting to feel like a lot but my desperation to fill all of him was consuming me.

“This feels so good,” I hear him strain, his hands coming to grasp my hips rather harshly, he squeezes harsh too but refuses to move.

“Spider more,” I beg as I attempt to shimmy myself further but feel him holding me into place.

“I need a second,” He groans, my eyes open as I see him struggling to take a decent deep breath, his dreads threaten to tickle my nipples as his head is hanging low.

“Don’t hold back!” I whine as I attempt to move my hips for more stimulation and feeling frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

I can hear him growl as he slides himself the rest of the way in, the breath that had been in my lungs suddenly leaves as I feel his entire length inside me.

A low groan leaves his lips as he ruts ever so gently into me, his hands still holding into my hips harshly, his grunts coming out rhythmically before taking his entire length out and shoving it back inside.

I moan louder than I had in previous attempts as his entire cock stretches me out deliciously, a bit of pain bringing a stinging sensation, but it was all welcomed as he begins to set his own pace.

I find myself wrapping my legs around his waist, he suddenly picks up the pace, causing an obscene sound to come from my pussy, a warmth filling me up as he continues his thrusts.

“You feel so good, so tight, fuck!” He exclaims as he plants his knee’s down, hand trailing from from my thigh, down the swell of my ass and trailing past my leg, tugging at it to get me to unhook myself from him.

I take my legs off his lower back to appease him, but watch as he grabs my legs by my ankles, pushing them up toward my face and essentially folding me in half. The feeling of the tip of his cock kissing my cervix is the only feeling I could focus on.

He tightens his hands on my ankles and begins to drag himself out of me, and smirk as he slams himself back into me.

“Spider!” I whine as I feel him reaching my cervix, my special spot, and places I had no idea existed inside of me.

“You gonna stop being a brat to me from now on?” He asks me loud enough to bring my attention towards him, moaning out as he thrusts back into my half bent body, unable to think properly.

“Give me an answer, pretty girl,” His hips still and a rage settles inside me, his hands loosen around my ankles as he runs his hands down my calves, now placing his hold on the back of my thighs.

“N-no,” I mumble, seeing him smile, his grip on my thighs tighten and he starts thrusting into me almost primally, his growls being heard in my ears as his cock assaults my cervix, the feeling of it being hit continuously starting to draw my orgasm near.

“I’m close,” I squeezed my eyes tightly to focus on the pleasure, feeling as they roll back into my skull as I see starts forming in my vision.

“Thats it, baby, squeeze my cock dry.” His words drive me closer to the edge as I feel it begin to flutter around him, his thrusts never ceasing to bring me pleasure.

“I’m coming,” I cry out as he thrusts in one last time, feeling my walls contracting against his cock, stuck in a state of ecstasy, a high pitched whine leaving my lips as I’d came.

A sudden warmth entering my cunt as Spider empties his cock inside me, a drawn out moan escaping him as he attempts to thrust deeper into me.

It hadn’t taken long for us to untangle our limbs and put our clothes back on, but I did feel slightly dirty knowing there was no possible way for me to clean myself up, feeling as his cum slid out of my cunt and into my underwear, a lovely stain I’d have to deal with cleaning out later.

“How long do you think it’ll take for either one of them to come back?” I asked as I finally find the courage to look past my hands and up to him.

He only shrugs and it appears he’s been biting his lip, unsure of what to say or how else to keep the conversation going, but the quiet we’d marinated in had been welcoming, there was nothing awkward about it.

Just then my ears jerk slightly at the slightest sound of someones footsteps making its way in the lab room we’d been in.

“Wanna know how I know you learned your lesson?” Norms voice is heard from the other side of the door, a rhetorical question since he never expected the same answer to come out our mouths, so he answered his own question aloud.

“Because I don’t hear you yelling at each other,” He mutters and just then a beep is heard, the door opens up automatically to show us a human Norm standing on the other side.

“Can we go now?” Spider asks with an attitude lacing his tone, I nervously look over at him before my eyes shift to Norm exhaling loudly, had everything we’d done just been a one time thing?

“Promise not to put up a fight the next time we ask you a simple question?” Is his sassy reply and I felt my eyes rolling as I walk over toward the exit, arms crossed as soon as I stand close to Norm, seeing Max behind him.

“The next time you lock us in here without a toilet or running water I’ll make sure to castrate your Avatar.” I threatened before pushing past him and walking out.

I didn’t bother turning around to know that the footsteps behind me were Spiders.

“Hey, you okay?” Spider asks once we’re within an earshot from Max and Norm, I could feel him grasping my arm gently, and I turned my body to look at him, seeing genuine concern from his eyes.

“I’m fine,” I sigh out and feel him wrap his arms around me in a hug.

“I hate you,” I mumbled into the hug.

“I don’t hate you.” He replies and I smile.

__________

“So what do the results yielded from the study conclude for our hypothesis?” Max asks from behind Norm,who turns toward Max with a smile gracing his features.

“It would prove it correct,”Norm couldn’t fight the small laugh that had decided to come through his lips, his face slightly brightening as his cheeks reddened, the two of them now smiling.

“It smells like sex in there, do you know how hard it was to keep a straight face the whole time, I was literally dying!” Max mentions as he comes close to his colleague, hand coming up to clap his shoulder twice, the two of them turning around to document their findings, opening a folder on the tablet, the hypothesis in bold.

If two people who quarrel with one another over stupid things are trapped together in a room with no way to track time, then they are more than likely to sleep with one another in said room after realizing there is no way out.

[realexotrash]

ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴ ᴛʀɪᴏ ᴇʀᴀ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Here's my navigation for my other masterlists!

ʀᴏɴ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

Jealous, jealous, jealous girl - ** ron notices you upping the PDA when Lavender starts flirting with him and you decide to show her who he belongs to.

popular!shy!reader - * ron’s friends think you were the one who made the move but are shocked to find out the opposite.

the dream** - ron has a dirty dream and wakes up hard next to reader

Needy** - needy!ron misses you because you've been taking NEWTs too seriously but he finds the perfect moment to drag you into an empty classroom.

Overstimulation with dom!Ron**

Goodbye kisses that last longer than intended blurb

Opposite teams** - You play a Quidditch match against your boyfriend, who's a very sore loser.

Glossy lips - Wiping off lip gloss from his lips after a kiss

Late to class** - Ron doesn't want you to leave to class so soon and manages a convincing excuse for you to stay

Unsteady desk chair** - When ron's been locked in his dorm trying to finish an essay all afternoon, you decide to help motivate him a little.

Ron has lived in the chosen one's shadow since they became best friends, so when he gets the one thing Harry wants, he decides to never let go... coming soon.

Ron won't stop complaining about Seamus and his girlfriend taking up the dorm until he's the one with a girl in there. coming soon...

ɴᴇᴠɪʟʟᴇ ʟᴏɴɢʙᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ

Snake ring* - In which the twins pull you into a game of seven minutes in heaven.

Dry-humping Neville at a party**

Kiss and tell - In which a very aware y/n of Neville's crush on her gets the courage to make a move.

Stolen glances - Stealing glances at each other across the room until your friends notice.

ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ

Harry's bi awakening

"You knew?" "You didn't?" - In which the twins only just find out their sister is dating Harry.

Me and You - You keep telling Ron to just 'ask her out' but he won't take your word seriously until you take your own advice. Somehow, you both end up with dates...

Sub!harry begging mean!slytherin!reader to let him cum, but she's having too much fun... coming soon

ᴏʟɪᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴏᴅ

I already won - even though he very much lost the game, he still won you.

How they react when you tell them you're in the mood - Oliver wood edition

Blood, dirt and reunions - You almost die and reunite with an old ex-boyfriend... or not.

ꜱᴇᴀᴍᴜꜱ ꜰɪɴɴᴇɢᴀɴ

Tipsy - Seamus takes care of you when you're drunk.

Safe in his arms - Brother!Harry Potter makes Seamus promise him to keep you safe because of how obvious your feelings are for each other.

ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

Just a swim - Percy's partner tries to get him to break a couple of rules.

How they react when you're in the mood*

'For the first time in his life, Percy pushes academics aside to focus on a girl, but his family doesn't know and thinks he has gone down a dark road.' coming soon...

ᴄʜᴀʀʟɪᴇ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

Guilt trip - Charlie tries to guilt trip the reader to visit his family with him.

ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ᴋʀᴜᴍ

What's her face - Rita skeeter being annoying

ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

Into the woods** - Waking George up to go out for a morning walk at the Burrow has him feeling quite frisky…

ᴄᴇᴅʀɪᴄ ᴅɪɢɢᴏʀʏ

No disturbances - You and Cedric make such a cute couple that teachers have turned a blind eye to several accounts of PDA.

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ

Someone finds out you're dating

he gets turned on at the wrong time*

She gets turned on at the wrong time*

[realexotrash]

Touch it for Real, Part 8

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Angst / (Eventual) Smut 18+

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / unresolved sexual tension

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8  , Part 9

Love was agony.

Sleep was an evasive bastard. When the power finally came back on you’d been shivering under your bed covers in complete silence for an hour— since you left his bed and his warmth.

Keep reading

[realexotrash]

lee haechan x fem reader

cw. smut +18 mdni. roomates, fwb!enemies ?, birthday sex, unprotected sex (be smart)

“does this count as my birthday gift?” haechan grins as you sink down onto him, the both of you letting out content sighs at the feeling. your eyes struggle to stay open over his cock stretching you out so deliciously. he holds your hips tight as you clamp around him. he has to stop himself from pushing you all the way down, you’re torturing him with how slow you adjust to his size, but even through his lack of patience he doesn’t want to hurt you.

“thought maybe you’d be less irritating this week if you got laid” you try to keep your composure but its hard, you can never keep up your little mean act once haechan was inside of you. its like all the power you have outside melts away the moment you’re in his bed, and its completely evaporated once you get a feel of him.

“could say the same thing about you and your little attitude problem, princess” he chuckles, his demeanor turning more dominant the moment he can have you to himself. you say you hate him but you keep coming to him whenever you need a good fuck. and he was always going to be there to give it to you even if you didn’t deserve it. you got on his nerves, and he got on yours even more. petty fights in the apartment you two shared started to be filled with more and more tension until the both of you snapped. so now whenever either of you were being more annoying than usual, it always ended with you riding him with no help until you cry, him fucking you absolutely stupid or you overstimulating him and slapping him around for being a dick.

“how unfortunate that you made it through another year”

“it would be unfortunate for you… since you cant seem to get enough of my cock” he has that stupid little smirk on his face as your body starts to go limp, you can barely hold yourself up and you were trying to keep up with the pace you created, the boy under you taking all you gave him. since it’s his birthday it would only make sense for you to do the work and make him feel good, but it’s easy to get lost in pleasure when you’re on top of him. you rut your hips up while you press haechan closer into your chest, letting his lips leave wet hot kisses on the sticky skin of your chest and neck. he talks in your ear and it encourages you to move faster, his moans getting louder while you try to push him to the edge.

when your pace falters slightly, haechan helps you move faster and the way you clit grazes along the skin of his abdomen has the feeling of your orgasm building up faster than you’d like. you clench around haechan uncontrollably and he bites down on your sweaty shoulder, feeling his own orgasm getting closer. he could tell you were close, your breathing was slower like you were holding it in. he always had to remind you to breathe during times like this, but sometimes he liked watching you gasp for air as you cum.

“gonna cum before the birthday boy? how selfish…” you shake your head at his teasing and you try to slow down but haechans grip on you doesn’t loosen. he takes one of his hands to bring it down to your clit and you shudder, so close you could feel it all over your body.

“hae- fuck- haechan, gonna cum” the words barely come out of you coherently, whines and mumbles leaving your mouth as the pressure on your clit deepens.

“me too baby, cum for me” his words tickle your neck and you finally feel the rush of your orgasm, you stop moving as haechan holds you on him, rocking you slowly as you spasm around him, triggering his own orgasm. you both have your heads thrown back in pleasure, you’re milking his cock for every drop of cum and you don’t stop until your body stops shaking and he’s gently lifting you off of him from the overstimulation.

you both watch as a mix of his and your cum leak out of you, it drips down his thighs and you make a note to put these sheets in the wash before you go to bed. you turn over to lay on your back, legs burning from being bent for who knows how long. after a few minutes of recollecting, you can feel haechan shift next to you. he turns you slightly so he can spoon you, fingers grazing the exposed skin of your stomach and thighs as he presses his still hard cock against your bare ass.

“i think since im 24 today, we should fuck 24 times” you can hear the smile in his voice behind you, the way he talks like he came up with the best idea ever. all you can do is roll your eyes before reaching behind you to align his cock with your cunt.

“i really need to find a new roommate”

a/n: a little late but happy birthday haechan <33

[realexotrash]

change your mind yet?

pairing: haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, enemies to lovers-esque, choking, spit kink, haechan’s lowkey a cocky piece of shit, he calls you a bitch Lol

summary: You’re going to kill him. You swear, You’re going to kill him. how did Liu Yangyang accidentally tell Lee Donghyuck—your greatest enemy—that you think he’s hot and that you’ve been in a dry spell recently? Now you have to avoid the inevitable confrontation, and worst of all, deal with the most stubborn person alive (who ironically thinks that you’re the most stubborn person alive).

word count: 4.6k

a/n: very much an oldie… not so sure about a goodie but i do love the ending. i had written this for a friend lol

You love him to bits, but Liu Yangyang is not your favorite friend right now.

Fairly, you one-hundred percent blame him for the predicament you’re currently in. You know he can be a blabbermouth at times and wouldn’t do it on purpose, but there’s no way you’d let him get away with quote-unquote accidentally telling your mortal enemy that you think he’s hot, and that you’ve been having trouble getting off.

It was yesterday evening that you were on FaceTime with your best friend, simply conversating as per usual. You were ranting comfortably to Yangyang about your troubles and how sexually frustrated you are, and he suggested you getting laid. That’s how the topic of Lee Donghyuck came. He was suggesting people, and when he asked you if you thought Donghyuck was hot, you replied yeah, but I wouldn’t touch his dick with laboratory safety gloves.

Fast-forward some hours later, he’s consentfully telling your mutual friend Renjun about your conversation, in hopes of playing matchmaker and finding someone for you to fuck. The problem? Donghyuck was around, and somehow overheard everything except the part about you saying that you’d never touch his egotistical dick.

So now you’re on campus, avoiding your egotistic mortal enemy like the plague.

Why do you dislike Donghyuck? The answer’s simple, he’s one of those guys. The ones that think they own the world, and that it revolves around them. The ones that think they can have any and every person they want, and treat people’s hearts like dirt. In short, you don’t think he’s a good person, no matter how hot he is.

When your final class rolls around, you think you might’ve successfully dodged him. You had another class with him today, but for some reason he was a no-show. Not that you care, his lack of presence was relieving. Then, you see him stroll into your Language Arts class, and the bright red cherry on top? He’s quick to snatch the seat directly next to yours. Oh, brother.

“Hey,” Donghyuck whispers. “Let’s talk.”

Your heart is racing, but you think you manage to conceal it. “In the middle of class?”

He shrugs, “Afterwards.”

You’re running out of here the second your professor dismisses you.

So, Donghyuck cornered you.

There’s no going anywhere as long as he has you like this, backed up against a wall, his hands on either side of you, and his gaze practically rooting you in place. You feel like you’re being stared down by Medusa, still as stone as you look into his eyes.

“So, let’s talk,” he grins, tilting his head. “A little birdie tells me you think I’m hot, you’re under a dry spell, and that you’ve been having trouble making yourself cum lately.”

“Did you hear the part where I said I wouldn’t touch your egotistical dick with laboratory safety gloves?”

“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t need my dick to have your thighs shaking, huh,” you’re blushing, actually blushing, cheeks aflame and your skin all hot. To make matters worse, Donghyuck’s hands move from beside you to sitting pretty on your waist, not moving lower or higher, cool texture of his rings pressing gently into your skin. The contact has you in an internal frenzy, but you chalk it up to you simply being touch-starved. “Don’t you see these lips, baby?”

Alas, you do see them. With his face as close as it is to yours, you can’t help but see them. They’re pretty and plush, kissable, and kind of do look like they could eat—no, no, no, no. You’ve been with your share of guys like Donghyuck, ones that like to talk about how good they are, yet are severely disappointing in reality. For you to even be considering sleeping with him just goes to show that you’ve struck rock bottom.

“D-don’t call me that,” you curse yourself for stammering, because he only finds it amusing.

“Why not? I think you like it, baby,” Donghyuck teases, “is that the problem? You like me, but you don’t want to like me? You don’t like that you know I could make you feel good?”

You loosen your gaze, unable to bare eye contact with him any longer, “Fuck you, Donghyuck.”

“Fuck me your fucking self,” he grabs your chin, making you look at him. If you can see anything in his eyes, it’s the unmistakable gleam of lust, so dark yet so tempting. “You want it, don’t you?”

God dammit, you do want it. But you refuse to have your name crossed out on his checklist, to be another notch in his belt. You know it would only boost his ego to have seduced the most stubborn person alive into fucking him, and you absolutely refuse to let that happen.

“No.”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrow, “No?”

“No,” you repeat.

You don’t know how you expected him to react, but he takes it coolly, dropping his hands and stepping away. Aw no, did you hurt his ego? The thought almost makes you laugh.

“Okay, but you know where to find me when you change your mind,” He smirks, and you hate how confident he sounds. Not if, but when. When you change your mind.

He strolls away, and you let him. You have bigger fish to fry, and you refuse to let some grade A fuckboy get in your head.

Unfortunately, you are not as in control of your thoughts as you’d like. This is bad, really fucking bad, you think. Last night, you actually successfully managed to cum on your own. That should be a good thing, but the reason you came is absolutely humiliating. An embarrassing, taking-it-with-me-to-the-grave secret.

You may or not may not have came to the thought of Donghyuck. How his fluffy hair would look clamped to his forehead, or how his forehead would look dripping with sweat. Imagining his fingers replacing your own, fingering you with his rings on, the coolness of them against your skin. But what really did it was probably the image of him between your thighs that was planted in your brain the second he offered himself to you. You thought of what good his lips could do, and how they’d look dripping all wet.

This is fucking terrible. You haven’t came in god knows how long, and the one time you do after forever, it’s because of the man you’ve sworn to hate until the day you die. Usually this is something you’d rant to your best friend about, but after what happened the last time you told him about your sexual frustrations, you decide you’re going to keep this one to yourself. If Donghyuck ever heard you came to the thought of him eating you out, he’d literally never in a million years ever let you live it down.

Today’s a new day, but you haven’t been able to shake off the shame, particularly because tonight’s Renjun’s party, and being one of his best friend’s, Donghyuck will undoubtedly be there. He’s posted it on his story and everything, not that you were checking. You overheard Yangyang talking about it. But either way, you don’t know if you’ll be able look him in the eye again.

“It’s a good thing you’re going out again,” Yangyang assures, walking next to you as you two stroll into the party, “maybe you’ll meet someone else to help you get out of your dry spell.”

He’s right. This is your chance to get laid, get over whatever that was with Donghyuck, and move on. You’re like, ninety-nine point nine percent convinced you’re only attracted to him out of sheer desperation. The measly zero point one percent comes from you being aware that you’ve thought he was attractive long before yesterday happened, but whatever. Forget it.

So you nod in agreement. Soon enough, you’ve settled with the party atmosphere. You’ve had a drink but you’re not drunk, and you’ve tried socializing but everyone seems so not your style, which is insane, because Donghyuck isn’t your style either. You don’t think. No, he’s not.

This is worse than you initially suspected. You can’t find anyone, and Donghyuck’s still running through your mind, being a complete and utter distraction and he’s not even here—

Speaking of the devil himself, “Hey.”

You spoke too soon.

“Ohmygod, if you’re here to try and seduce me again, I’m not interested,” you groan, hoping he gets the message and leaves you the fuck alone. At the same time you really don’t, but you definitely think you should.

Donghyuck raises his hands, “But I’m egotistical. I just came here to invite you to a game of truth of dare with the gang, lighten up a lil, won’t ya?”

You sigh. “Where?”

He leads you to the room where everyone is, and you make sure to scoot next to Ningning and Jennie, refusing to sit anywhere besides Donghyuck. All you hope now is that the bottle doesn’t land on you after him.

A couple of rounds fly by, and you’re still safe. You’re having fun, and the thought of him escapes your mind with ease. Even when the bottle does land on you, he doesn’t dare you to do anything crazy that you thought he would.

After Yangyang’s turn, the bottle lands on you. You’re not worried, because Yangyang’s your best friend, he wouldn’t dare you to do anything stupid.

Then he does exactly that.

“Seven minutes in heaven with Donghyuck!”

You’re going to kill him. You’re mentally plotting his murder right now. How you’re going to do it, when, and where you’ll hide his body. If he suspiciously winds up missing, you’re more than likely the reason why.

“Pucker up, buttercup,” Yangyang blows you a kiss.

You spit back, “Shut up, bubble guts.”

You hear him gasp in offense, but whatever he says is cut off by Donghyuck.

“Come on, babes. I can hear your lips calling my name,” he teases, and you groan, clutching your fist. You guess there’s no way out of this. Well, technically there is, but Renjun let Yangyang choose the punishment and he decided to make anyone who refused to do a dare eat a spoonful of sour cream. Mind you, sour cream by itself is disgusting, and this is probably why he and his stomach are frequently at war, so your safest option is getting in that room with Donghyuck for seven minutes. You don’t even have to kiss, you can just let everyone think you did.

So you follow him into the bathroom connected to Renjun’s room, and the second the door shuts, he has you backed into yet another wall. He grins, “Change your mind yet?”

You stand your ground. “No.”

“That’s fine, we can make out in the meantime and then see how you feel after seven minutes.” he replies nonchalantly.

Even though you’ve been thinking about it, you grimace. “Gross.”

“What? It’s not my dick, why do you act like you hate me anyways? Not that I’m really complaining, I like when things are hard.”

“Bet you do,” you grumble. “And if I’m acting, then I must be Viola Davis.”

“Eh, I’d give you Keanu Reeves.”

You glare. “On second thought, I’m almost willing to kiss you if it means you’ll keep quiet.”

“Well you’re in luck,” Donghyuck grins, “because that and giving head are the only ways to silence me.”

You cave in soon later, letting him pin you to the wall, your hands above your head as he kisses you hungrily. It kills you to learn that he’s a great kisser, because that means he’s actually good at something other than running his mouth and being the bane of your existence twenty-four seven. Though you don’t know how that’s possible, he’s gentle yet rough. Caring in his movement, though passionate in them too. The way he’s kissing you, you’d think he loved you.

In spite of your obvious attempts to try and touch him, to maybe run your fingers through his hair or hold his cheeks in your hands, Donghyuck doesn’t let you move. You can feel the teasing grin bloom from his lips, and conclude that it’s intentional.

Never in a million years did you think you’d be french kissing Lee Donghyuck of all people, yet here you are. You can’t say you don’t like it, though. That would be lying. While you’d never admit anything like it, the roughness in the way he kisses you has you throbbing.

Donghyuck’s lips are like a drug. You stop for a moment to inhale, and then you’re lips are latched back onto each other. Exhale again, then you take another drag, and the cycle repeats. You could do this for fucking ever.

Then, the timer chimes.

“Time’s up!” Chenle yells from outside the bathroom, and Donghyuck pulls always almost instantly, surprisingly readier than you are.

He looks hot as he pants, chest rising and falling then rising again. He smirks, “Change your mind?”

God fucking damn it. Time went by a little too fast for your liking. Your lips are swollen, but you want more of him, to feel him, to touch him, especially because he didn’t let you. You’re finally admitting to yourself that you want him, and you can’t ignore your cravings anymore.

“Donghyuck,” you whimper, not caring in this moment who hears you, “w-want you.”

He smirks. “I know, baby. You wanna prove to me how much?”

You nod. It’s pathetic, truly, but you need this at this point. So you let Donghyuck lead you out of the bathroom, and essentially the bedroom, ignoring the curious sounds coming from your friends. He leads you down the hall into a different, emptier room, closing and locking the door behind the two of you.

“On the bed,” he instructs.

You comply, the desperation that accompanies having not slept with someone in months and orgasming in weeks making you leap into action in an instant. Then there’s this raw part of you that has lusted after him before you fully came to terms with your desire, making you feel the way blood courses through your veins.

Donghyuck walks up and kisses you again, this time allowing both of your pairs of hands to roam freely as you strip one another almost bare. In an eager motion, you peel away his shirt and jeans, and he matches your yearn, leaving you naked. He pulls away from your lips to eye your body in awe.

“You’re a bitch,” he says, “but a beautiful one.”

“Really turned me on,” you deadpan.

He laughs yet pushes your back flat against the mattress, wasting no time in hovering above your body. The proximity has your heart racing a little quicker, a little faster than it was out of something like anticipation. Donghyuck dips his head but doesn’t kiss you like you anticipate him to, at least not on the lips. His lips scout your neck, soft and sweet against your flesh. He sucks at your skin, and your mouth gapes a little, sounding the most sweet gasp before he digs his teeth in suit. It makes you whimper aloud his name, which he clearly enjoys from the way he smiles.

Donghyuck repeats a course of similar actions as he mouth scoots lower, kissing and sucking and biting at your collarbone. Then he proceeds after some time, traveling lower and taking your breast into his mouth or his tongue swirling over your nipples. He trails kisses at your sternum, your stomach, all the while your breath getting caught up in your throat the more his mouth falls down your body. He’s so obviously teasing you, you know that much. He has a destination yet no rush to get there, taking his sweet, precious time as though he’s rich of it. And maybe he is, but your patience is running thin, and there’s only so much more of this you can take. “Hyuck,” you cry out of sheer desperation, “hurry up.”

“For someone who claimed not to want me up until ten minutes again, you really are desperate for me,” Donghyuck replies, drawing his mouth away, and hence all contact there was.

Refusing to simply take that, you retaliate, “For someone who claimed they could make me feel good, you’re doing a whole lot of nothing right now.”

“Keep running that sharp mouth and I’ll have to put it to better use,” Donghyuck answers. It isn’t like you’re against giving head, and it wouldn’t sound so bad if you weren’t so painfully deprived of the same satisfaction Donghyuck’s offered to give you. Sure, the speed—or lack of the—heightens the anticipation, but you need him to quit teasing or you’ll actually go insane.

“You keep acting like you hate me,” Donghyuck moves between your legs, and you aren’t prepared for what he does next. Something about the way he slowly smooths his single finger through your folds and draws it into his mouth for a taste is hot to you, thus making you wish he’d finally get on with it. “But your cunt is telling me that you love me. Love this.”

Well it isn’t like he’s wrong. You haven’t been this wet in ages, the dry spell you’ve been under being extreme and severe. Touching yourself has gone absolutely no where up until last night, when you somehow managed to cum harder than you have in a minute. You’re starting to think that having Donghyuck as your muse changes things.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh. You’d love this more if he stopped making you wait, but you don’t say that aloud, starting to suspect that the more you complain the longer he silently decides he’s going to test your patience. After what feels like an eternity of touching you everywhere but where you desperately need him to most, Donghyuck’s tongue draws a line between your thighs. Then another, and another. It progresses into more with no particular rush, despite the inevitable whines you can’t prevent from falling out. “Hyuck,” you cry again, wishing he’d stop playing games.

Donghyuck teases, “What’s the magic word?”

“Please,” you beg, “Please, please. I-I want, fuck no, I need this. Please, fuck—”

Your pleas are cut short the moment Donghyuck gives in, lapping at you with an unquenchable thirst and insatiable hunger. It’s so sudden that it gives you whiplash, and he has to grip your thighs to keep them spread a safe distance apart. He’s unstopping once he begins, tongue maneuvering as it pleases, roaming around freely though expertly. Had you known Donghyuck was as much bite as he was bark, you may have gave in to this much sooner than you did. Not only is he making you feel good, but he’s making you feel great. If you could taste heaven, it would be this.

Some moments pass, and the humiliating part is that it isn’t a lot of moments. Your thighs are trembling more with every lick, resulting in Donghyuck’s grip around your thighs to tighten out of consideration that you might successfully slip out of his grasp. You stomach turns, flips, and you’re vision is being clouded white, so close to an orgasm that it hurts. Donghyuck senses it, you know that he can, you can feel the arrogant smirk spreading across his lips once more. Just as you’re getting so close, as your orgasm is right there in arms reach, being dangled in front of you by a string, he snatches it away.

There’s yet another whine from you, but he answers your question before you even get the chance to ask, “Want you to cum when I fuck you, baby.”

Donghyuck removed his boxers, leaving them on the ground to be cared about later. His erection springs flat against his stomach in a way that makes you so suddenly inhale a breath, and you clench around absolutely nothing at all. You’re gawking at him as though you want to eat hm, and in a sense you do, but you can’t be blamed. It looks better than you could’ve ever imagined, decent length, decent girth. The real brag-worthy factor, however, is if he knows what to do with what god has blessed him with.

His dick nudges your slit. “Ready?”

Without wasting an eighth of second you give him the go-ahead, nodding your head at instance so fast it almost hurts your neck. He reacts equally as fast, prodding his dick between your folds and eventually your walls. It stretches you out perfectly, and the moment he’s in you Donghyuck’s moaning about how tight and wet you are. He takes a moment for himself before he starts to move, gliding in and out of you in an effortless motion.

So far, Donghyuck has lived up perfectly to your imagination and expectations, much better, even. You never would’ve thought he’d actually have the right to brag about how good he is in bed, but you see it now. He’s a god even, not that you’d ever tell him that to his face.

“So pretty, wish I could have gotten to you sooner. Always telling me that you hate me yet letting me fuck you like this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve always wanted this,” Donghyuck says into your ear, and pecks your neck. “Are you always this needy? So desperate that you’ll let even me fuck you?”

“G-god, yes,” you don’t care about overpriding him anymore, just saying things because you aren’t in the right mind to care about anything other than his dick right now.

“Yeah?” He smirks. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

You’re almost too fucked out to speak, just moaning and whimpering in a way you never thought you would for him, “Feels good, so… so good. Love it.”

If you were in the right mind to have shame, you’d be embarrassed by the way your number-one enemy is making you moan, and not just because of the volume, but because it’s his name your moaning so pathetically. Choruses of “Hyuck” sounding from you in plethoras, calling his name with no actual reason. You’re breathing in little shallow, quick breaths, too, mouth agape as your whimpers tumble into the air. It helps that Donghyuck’s also surprisingly vocal, calling your name back. To say the least, the way he moans your name is hot and gets you off a little more, in spite of you not needing the help. He has it all on his own, fucking into you deep and hard.

Donghyuck gropes your body too, heightening your pleasure by fumbling with your breasts or rubbing your clit with one of his free hands. He doesn’t focus on one particular part of you, showering your figure with pleasure and attention that makes the sex a billion times better.

“Can I choke you?” He asks, and the question catches you a little off-guard, but once you shake off the surprise, you give him permission.

Donghyuck’s hands slither around your neck, and he presses into your jaw with just enough force to make you look at him, and silently communicate that he wants you to keep your eyes him and his actions. His fingers press onto the sides of your throat, and you’re not sure what is a bigger turn on, the fact that he knows how to properly do it or the action itself. You think it’s a bit of both, you enjoy the thrill as you look defeated by your inability breathing, and the dark look in his eyes tells you that he enjoys it too, staring straight into your soul, watching you fail to take a breath.

He doesn’t loosen his grip on your throat as he commands, “Open your mouth.”

You aren’t in the mind to question anything, simply following instructions. His mouth hovers above yours, lips parting to spit in your mouth. The action takes you by surprise yet again, but you swallow almost instinctively, never looking away from him as you do.

He backs away once satisfied, smiling. “So good for me, baby.”

That makes you clench around him, which also brings Donghyuck the satisfaction of a moan or two. He loves the way you clench around him when he says things to you, a telltale sign that you’re enjoying this more than he knows you’d probably like to admit. This whole thing between you and him, him and you is that you’re too stubborn to admit your desire. It prides him that he finally managed to make you confess it, to admit that you’re no different from anybody else. That he can still get under your skin, and does a fairly good job at that. Not only does it make him feel good about himself, but it makes him feel good right now. Your reactions, all your moans and your fucked out face, the whimpering and the begging, it all gets him off more.

That knot in your stomach is forming again, and he has you clenching around him regularly soon afterwards, and he can tell that this time, it’s not because of his words. It’s because you’re about to orgasm. “I’m close,” you announce, once again feeling all the flips and turns twisting about in your gut. It’s a good thing Donghyuck’s close too, being obvious from the way his thrusts aren’t as smooth as they initially were.

“Me, too. C’mon baby, give it to me,” he urges you on, and you let him drive you to the edge.

He makes you see white again, vision fogging the color and your voice a high-pitched moan of his name as you climax, grinding your hips into his as you intend to ride out your orgasm. In some high, trance-like state, you’re not sure when he cums, but you know that it wasn’t that much longer after you did, and then he slid out, flopping beside you on the mattress. You lie there in near-silence that consists of nothing but heavy breathing, wondering to yourself if this actually happened. You don’t regret it, not now anyways, and it was definitely a satisfying way to break your dry spell, but now you’re starting to question if it was a bad decision. He hasn’t even asked if—

“Are you okay?” Donghyuck asks, seemingly needing a moment to catch his breath before he could gather words.

His words cut through your thoughts, leaving you to accept that maybe he’s not that much of an asshole. It’s the bare minimum, so he’s still an asshole, but not that much of an asshole. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m good.”

“Good,” he grins. “So, you wanna ditch this party and go get some Chinese food? I’m starving.”

“You want to go get food with me?” you say, sounding wholly and utterly surprised and unconvinced. This man spends every other day of his life bothering you, and now he wants to pick up some food with you?

“I mean, if you don’t want free Chinese food that I’m paying for with my money, then fine, suit yourself, I’ll just get it by my—”

“No!” You interject, sitting up immediately as you scan the room for your clothes. “I’m down. Kinda hungry, too.”

“Good,” Donghyuck says. “Chop, chop. We don’t have all night, they close in like less than an hour from now.”

Standing out of bed to put your clothes on, you consider to yourself that maybe you’ve assumed a lot about him without getting to know him. He’s definitely got an ego on him, that a blind man can tell, but he’s not really an asshole.

“Yo, I just realized something.”

“What?”

Donghyuck smiles bashfully, “I don’t have my wallet on me.”

Nevermind. He’s one-hundred percent definitely an asshole.

[realexotrash]

❛COCKBLOCKERS❜ ( 00' liners )

authors note. based on a dream i had 😊 enjoy !

p. roommate!00' line x fem!reader w. 6.4k+

— 𖦹 warnings. unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, oral ( f. receiving ), dirty talk, haechan is a munch, size kink ( jeno duh.)

— 𖦹 ( living with four boys isn't easy for your sex life , but luckily your roommates are here for you) !

“Do you even masturbate?”

Living with haechan for almost 2 years, you were pretty used to these questions — to the point were you don’t even flinch at the questions anymore. “Of course I do, i'm human haechan.”

“Yeah but i've never caught you, and i've caught just about everyone who lives in this apartment.” He was referring to your other roommates; jaemin, jeno and renjun — who were also used to his antics. “That’s because jaemin has a exhibition kink and jeno is a himbo so he forgets to lock the door, I've caught both of them multiple times.” Jaemin shrugged, smirking. “Can’t say you’re wrong.”

“Im not a himbo.” Jeno looked up from his phone. “Whatever you say, renjun is the only one I haven’t caught, because like me he’s smart enough to lock his door.” You said, speaking of the boy who finally exited his room. “What about locking my door.” He said. “She talking about when you masturbate.” Your eyes widened at haechan completely taking what you said out of context.

“W-why are you talking about that?” he cough, rubbing the back of his red neck. “Haechans bitch ass took that out of context don’t worry.” You threw the pillow at the boy, he dramatically fell back. “So where do you do it?” He asked, picking the pillow up. “In my room or in the shower, jesus haechan not everyone gets off in the open spaces.” You said.

“Wh-why are you guys having this conversation right now?” Renjun finally asked the right question. “Because jaemin and haechan think she’s asexual because we’ve never seen a boy come in and out of this apartment for her, and she never leaves the house.” You scoffed at jeno, meanwhile renjun regretted asking the question. “In other words, she’s not getting any dick.”

You scoffed, and that totally wasn’t your fault. “Well im sorry but not many guys like the or are comfortable fucking in a apartment when you have a mans voice yelling ‘yn where’s the chopstick for the ramen!’ or ‘yn how do start the washer!’ You mock their voices. “it’s kind of a turn off.”

“But that doesn’t stop you from leave and getting some.” Jaemin said. “You would think, but it seems like everyone on campus seems to think we’re in a big poly relationship, thanks to haechan being the alcoholic he is.” You said, remember the party a year ago. “What did I do?” You scoffed. “You got on a table and yelled it in front of half of the campus.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Yeah, so thanks to you 3 cockblockers im reduced to using my fingers as a form of release.” You stood up. “Is this conversation done now, can I go to my room?” You didn’t wait for a answer, you just kept walking. “3 ? What about renjun? Jeno asked. “He knows where the chopsticks are, he also knows how to start the washer and hold his alcohol.” You walked past the boy, smiling. “Good job renjun, for not being the reason im involuntary celibate.”

He watched you walk all the way to your room, closing your door. “Why does she always defend you?” Haechan said, renjun shrugged. “Does she want to fuck you or something?” Jaemin laughed. “More like he wants to fuck her.” Renjun felt his face heating up again, quickly walking back to his room.

“Well no shit look at her, who in this house doesn’t want to fuck her.” Jeno shook his head. “Don’t try and judge me jeno, you were the first one to say you wanted to fuck her.” Jeno stood up, putting his phone away. “Yeah I did, and I still do.” He said. “But I don’t act like a bitchless loser either.” He picked up his gym bag. “Hey! Im not bitchless.” The boy fought back. “Whatever you say, maybe don’t ask her if she’s asexual or training to be a nun and she’ll fuck you.” He left out the house.

“Haechannie.” Jaemin stood up, “Don’t give up, she’ll come around and find something appealing on you." He looked the boy up and down, patting his shoulder in a comforting way. “maybe.” He left leaving the boy to pout in the livingroom.

“Well shit, now im horny.”

There was a knock on your door, you looked up from your show playing on the computer as the door slowly opened, renjun popping his head in. “I just wanted to see if you were still up, and to not let what haechan said bother you, it’s okay if you don’t do that stuff all the time.” He said, you smiled. “Whatever comes out of haechans mouth will never make me upset, he’s harmless.”

He chuckled, “More like demented, but I get it.” You laughed in return, making him smile. “Is that it?” you asked and he nodded. “Yeah, im going to bed, i'll see you in the morning, goodnight.” You waved. “Goodnight renjun.”

“Stupid fucking professors.” You dropped your bag on the ground in anger. “Whoa.” Jaemin stood in the kitchen. “What’s wrong with you?” You opened the refrigerator door, grabbing a beer. “Oh you must be stressed, it’s 12 and you’re drinking.” He said. “I am.” You cracked open the can, taking a big gulp of the beer, sighing.

“My professors moved my essay date up until this week, because she won’t be in next week.” You took another sip. “how is it my fault her sister is going into labor, does her sister have incompetent husband.”

Jaemin saw how angrier you were getting with every sip, deciding to intervene. “okay love that’s enough.” He took the can from your hand. “You’re stressed, drinking isn’t gonna solve it.” You sighed, rubbing your temples, leaning over the counter. “I’m gonna drop out.” He laughed, knowing you didn’t mean it. “You’re adorable.”

You glared at him as he stood next to you, the dishes he was doing long forgotten, instead he was staring at you. “Im about to break down and that’s all you have to say,  im adorable.” He nodded, you pouted. “Don’t make that face, you’re making it hard for me.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “What do you mean?” You eyes widened as he got closer and closer — pressing you against the counter. “It’s hard to not want to not stick my hand in these sweats of yours and help you distress — I hate seeing you all stressed.” He was extremely close, his nose brushing against yours gently.

“Jaemin.” You sighed, grabbing his bicep. “We ca— you’re stressed aren’t you baby?” He said, you nodded. “This is what I do when im stressed, I get off and I know your little fingers won’t pleasure you enough.” He said. “I didn’t want to say anything yesterday cause I didn’t want to get haechan started, but I hear you sometimes, when you’re touching yourself.”

eyes widened in horror — you couldn’t believe he heard you. “Oh my god.” You whined. “This is so embarrassing.” You covered your face, but he quickly removed your hands. “Don’t be, those pretty gasp and whines coming from your room are like music.” He said. “But I know it’s not enough is it?” His fingers danced along your waistband. “Not enough to make you satisfied?”

You moaned softly, he smirked. “Listen to you baby, I know you want it, just let me help you distress.” He said, pulling at the waistband letting it snap at your waist. “When im done we don’t even have to talk about it.” He said, but you could hear the condescending tone in his voice. “But you might want more.”

You thought about it, what’s the worst that could happen, it will be awkward for a few days then you’ll go back to being normal — you could do that definitely – you once avoided renjun when you walked on him in the shower, and then you went right back to talking to him like nothing happen, and he let it go like nothing happened. “Princess don’t think too hard, hurt that pretty little head.”

You sighed — his hands waiting at your waistband waiting for you to give him the go. “And it won’t be awkward?” He nodded. “We won’t speak of it if you want” He reassured, kissing your forehead. “I just want to help you.” He whispered. “Just wanna make you cum.” That did it for you, you grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand into your sweats. “Please touch me.”

He smiled, cupping your clothed heats. “Sh-shit.” You moaned out. “You’re soaked through your panties pretty.” He toyed with your folds through your underwear. “Ja-jaemin.” You sighed, he smiled. “N-no teasing.” You whined, he chuckled. “Okay baby I won’t, I wont.” He said moving your panties to the side, running a finger across your folds. “So wet baby, your pussy is so desperate for me to touch her.”

He pressed a finger at your hole, slowly sinking it in. “Jaemin-” You moaned as his thick finger stretched you out. “Such a tight pussy, poor baby hasn’t had anybody touch her like this in a while has she?” You moaned, shaking your head. “You want another.”

“y-yes.” You moaned as he added another finger, stretching your cunt out more. “Sh-shit your fingers are amazing.” He smirked. “Yeah?” He asked, moving  his fingers in and out of your hole. “My fingers stretching your pretty pussy good?” You nodded, moaning out as his used the pad of his thumb to rub your clit. “Fu-fuck im gonna cum.”

“Go a head, you deserve it princess, cum on my fingers.” He fucked his fingers into your hole faster. “Cum for me.” He said and on his command you came all over his fingers. “Fuck!” You sighed as he stroked your clit with his thumb as you came down from your high. “Jae.” You gasped, grabbing his wrist,  stopping him. “I-I came.”

He chuckled stopping his movements. “You’re evil.” You breathed, he laughed. “But it was fun watching you struggle, and you feel better don’t you?” You nodded, “I do, thank you.”

You both were bought back to reality by a cough. “Want to come back to earth, you’re in the kitchen.” Jeno said, looking at the scene in front of him. “With your hands stuffed in her sweats.” He held his bag in his hand. “Right.” He took his hand out from your pants. Your face was heated with embarrassment of being caught — jaemin on the other hand couldn’t care less. “Thanks to someone I have something take care of.”

Your eye widened — jeno scoffing in amusement as you both watched jaemin brought his hand covered in your juices to his mouth, sucking on them, humming as he exited into his room to do the obvious.

You and jeno stood in a silence — a awkward one before spoke up. “I’m sorry you had to walk in on that.” You stood on the balls of your feet, looking down. “We all need to distress sometimes, next time it should be in your room though, haechan could’ve walked in and that would’ve been— tragic.” You said and he nodded. “also please don’t tell him, I don’t want it to be awkward, renjun either.” He gave you a salute.

“My lips are sealed.” He said, you nodded. “I owe you big time, thank you so much.” You said. “I'm gonna go, see you after your class.” You scurried away to your room, his eyes followed you the entire time.

“Shit.” He sighed to himself, how was he supposed to focus in class with the scene of you moaning while his friend fingered you in his head; and his cock hard against his jeans.

Luckily a few days past and the kitchen incident was never brought up, it was kept a secret between you, jaemin and jeno — like it never happened, well expect when it happened again when everyone wasn’t home again, or when jaemin would look  at you with fuck me eyes that made you flustered, but no one even noticed — at least that’s what you thought.

“I know it’s in here.” You rummaged through his dirty clothes hamper — any other time that would’ve gross you out, going through a grown mans laundry, but your favorite black bra, was in there and you needed to wash it, you were going out on Saturday and you needed it — it made your tits look the best.

“Excuse me.” A voice made you jump turning around. “Shit jeno.” You sighed, calming down. “You scared me.” He lifted his eyebrows in confusion. “I scared you?” He said. “You’re in my room, going through my dirty laundry and I scared you?” He laughed amused.

“Your laundry?” You said, standing fully up. “I thought this was jaemins, it was near his beds.” You said. “Because his bed is closer to the door where I had it because I was gonna wash them later.” He pointed to the closet. “his is in the closet.” You wanted to shrivel up and die. “I'm so sorry.” You quickly put the stuff that fell out, putting it back by the door.

“It’s okay.” He said, sitting his gym bag down. You opened the closet, where his hamper was. “Oh.” You bent down going through, huffing once you realized it wasn’t I there either. “I has to be in here.” You whined.

Jeno couldn’t help it — he is only a man, and you were wearing those shorts that made your ass look so good, he couldn’t help but stare, his cock hardening in his gym shorts. “how was the gym?” You asked as you went through the hamper. “Good.” You didn’t hear the subtle change in his voice.

He was slowly losing it, the way you kept having a conversation with him, with your ass basically in his face, if he looked hard — which he already was, but if he looked harder, he could see the outline of your pussy — you weren’t wearing any panties.

“Fuck.” He cursed, finally snapping. “You have to be doing this on purpose.” He said darkly. “huh?” You turned to him confused. “I mean what you’re looking for can’t be in there, the hamper isn’t that big and you reached the bottom already.” He said. “So you have to know what you’re doing.”

“Do-doing what?” You said , slowing backing up as he stalked you, his eyes low and full of lust. “showing that ass of yours off.” He backed you up against the wall. “I can see your pussy through these shorts.” You bit your lip. “I-im sorry.” You looked up at him your lashes.

He grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. “If I let you go this time will you owe me?” he smirked. “You still owe me for not telling haechan and renjun about you and jaemin.” He said. “should I tell him then? What about when you both did it again on the couch?” How did he know about that. “how did you- you might want to keep it under wraps, but jaemin loves to talk.” He said, his hands squeezing your waist — you whimpered.

“You know I was pretty pissed, finding both of you in that kitchen?” he said. “and when jaemin told me again I was livid.” He pressed his sweaty body against yours, his musky smell from the gym radiating off of him, it was your favorite smell on him. “Wh-why?” You stuttered, he smirked. “Because I wanted to be the one to taste that pussy first.”

You felt his words in your cunt, this was the second time one of your roommates was pressing you against a surface, confessing a dirty thoughts that they had of you. “You’re so hard.” You felt his hard on against your pelvis, twitching in shorts. “Yeah I am, cause of you baby, you gonna help me?”

You weren’t gonna pass this up — you weren’t dumb. “Yeah.” You said , he quickly grabbed your shorts, pushing them down  to your ankles. “No panties baby, you’re really looking to be fucked like a whore.” He tapped your thighs. “Jump.”

He grabbed both of your thighs , his cock was now sitting under your ass. “gonna stretch this pussy out.” He held your body in one arm, quickly undoing his shorts letting them fall to the ground. “Je-jeno please fuck me.” Your voice was whiny, your fingers locked around his neck.

He lifted you up, grabbing the base of his cock holding it as he sunk you down on it. “Sh-shit you’re so fucking tight.” He groaned. “So tiny , you’re pussy is struggling to take me.” You moaned, closing your eyes as he slowly sunk deeper and deeper into your wet cunt. “Of fuck! You’re so big.”

He finally bottomed out, his hand against the wall above your head as he calmed himself down. “Fu-fuck this pussy is gonna make me cum early.” He slowly began to move, his cock hitting all the right spots as he held you against the wall. “Oh my god.” You gasped.

He began to move faster, your head knocked against the wall. “fuck!” you screamed. “Baby, these walls are thin and anyone could walk into the apartment and hear you getting your pussy fucked open by me, unless you want haechan and renjun to know how much a whore you are, cause im pretty sure jaemin already knows, then I suggest you try and shut that pretty mouth of yours.”

His words made you clench around him. “Fu-fuck baby let up, or im gonna cum inside your pussy.” He groaned. “unless that’s what you want.” You moaned out, yanking at hair on his neck. “Pl-please.” You whimpered.

“Fu-fuck you want me to cum inside you?” he grunted, his hips snapped harder against you. “Breed this little cunt up.” He hummed, biting at your neck. “yes!” You screamed. “please cum inside me.” He groaned, his pelvis hitting your clit, along with his cocked continuously hitting your cervix. “Fuck im gonna cum.”

Before you could even warn him again, you came, he felt your cunt spasm around him. “Sh-shit.” He groaned, looking down where your bodies connected a white ring formed around his cock base. “Oh fuck, your pussy is magic -fuck- im gonna cum.” He moaned. “Fuck im cumming , im gonna cum.” He groaned, then you felt his cum leaking into  your womb.

“Shit.” He sighed. “Hold on.” He held you in his arms, sitting down with you in his lap, his cock still inside you. “im gonna pull out now.” You nodded , and his lifted you up, his soft cock slipping out of you. “That felt good.” You said. “Yeah?” He said, you nodded. “I need to shower now.” You got up, he held your arm. “You got it?”

You nodded, legs a little wobbly. “Do you need help?” He asked, your turned to him. “Are you really gonna help or do you want to have shower sex?” He smiled cheekily. “will you let me fuck you if I help you shower after?” You shook your head. “Fine.”

“Wait what were you even looking for?” He asked, taking his shirt off, throwing it in the hamper. “My black bra, im going out on Saturday and I need it.” You said. “The one that makes your tits look good.” You gave him a side eye. “Don’t look at me, of course I look at your tits.” He said, looking down. “Here it is.” He held it in his hand, throwing it in his hamper. “I'll wash it for you.”

“I better get my bra back lee jeno.”

You sat at your desk, finishing up the essay that stressed you out earlier in the week. “finally.” You finally hit the send button. “I hope your sisters husband has a horrible day, cause why are you going on maternity leave for her baby.” You pushed your glasses against your face. “Hey.” Jaemin knocked on the door. “Next time you fuck jeno, don’t leave your shorts in the room.” He tossed them on your bed.

“Thanks.” You said, it almost didn’t phase you showing him the computer. “Look I finished the essay.” You said. “From the other day?” he asked, you shook your head. “I guess my fingers really did wonders didn’t it.” You rolled your eyes. “get out of my room jaemin.” He smirked. “Im just saying , these fingers are magical, look how fast you finished that essay.” You picked up the plushie haechan gave you for your birthday about to chuck it at him, but he quickly shut the door.

“Dumbass.” You turned back to your computer, going over your syllabus for the upcoming week. Your door slowly creaked  open,  you thought it was jaemin, so you picked the toy up, your arm up ready to throw it. “Stop fucking around jaemin.” You threw the toy. “Jaemin?” you swiveled around in the chair, facing the person. “Was he just in here or something? Why are you calling me jaemin?”

“Oh shit haechan my bad, jaemin came to return something to me , and he was fucking around so I had to kick him out my room.” You quickly explained , he walked into your room, you noticed him stumble a bit — he was drunk. “I thought he was fucking around at my door.”

He hummed sitting on your bed, the toy in his hand, his cheeks a dusty red from the alcohol. “Did you have fun with mark and Johnny tonight?” he nodded, you hated when he was quiet, it seemed uncanny. “I did, but it was ruined.” He said. “Ruined?” you questioned. “How was it ruined?”

“I figured out I must be the problem.” He said. “What do you mean hyuck?” You turned in your chair facing him. “I might bit be as witty as jaemin or as strong as jeno or even as smart as renjun, but I thought I at least had some good qualities.” He said, picking at the hair of the toy.

“donghyuck what are you ta– oh.” It finally it you. “Shit, how did you find out?” You said. “I heard jaemin talking about it when I walked into the house.” He said, finally looking at you. “Are you upset?” He scoffed, smiling to himself. “Did you fuck renjun?” You looked at him weird. “no.”

“Good, I refuse to lose to renjun.” He said. “Why are you in a one sided competition with renjun, he hardly comes out of his room?” You said. “Because you don’t see it, but I do, I am man, I saw that jeno and jaemin wanted to fuck you and look what happened.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re deranged, renjun doesn’t want to fuck me.”

“well im not missing my chance and letting him win.” He said, sinking to his knees. “W-what are you doing?” You asked , as he crawled to you. “What does it look like?” He tapped your legs. “Im gonna eat you out.”

He pulled your legs apart, you were only in a oversized shirt, and some underwear. “H-haechan.” You covered your clothed heat. You’re drunk.” He scoffed. “I'm fully aware about what I want, and what I want is to eat your pussy.”

He moved your hand. “Fuck, you smell so good.” He inhaled. “Can’t wait to eat you out.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “hyuck, you’re drunk, you need to sleep.” You said, but he wasn’t listen. “Please, I really want to.” He looked up you, a look in his eyes. “Please.”

He kissed at your thighs. “See I am fully aware.” He kissed your clothed cunt, you sighed, your hands flying to his hair. “You taste so good.” He said licking your folds. “Let me take your panties off and get a full taste.” He said, his voice sounded so breathy, almost like a whimper — it turned you on even more. “that’s all I want, you don’t have to do anything in return.”

“Fu-fuck okay.” You moaned, he smiled kissing your thighs once again. “thank you.” He quickly grabbed the waistband of your panties, you lifted your hips — holding on to the arms of the chair as the air from your aircon hit your cunt. “So pretty.” He said, dipping his head back into your thighs.

“Fuck , such a pretty pussy.” He licked your now exposed folds. “sh-shit haechan.” He sloppily made out with your cunt. “it feels so good, doing so good.” Your praise went straight to his cock, his cock twitched against his pants, he hummed against your cunt. “fu-fucking good boy.”

You tugged at his hair with one hand, holding the arm of the chair, pushing him deeper and deeper into your cunt. “Hyuck, fuck!” You yelped. “Fuck im gonna cum.” He pulled away, his lips and bottom lip covered in your juices — his eyes completely blown. “Please cum.” His fingers strung at your clit, he looked up at you. “I want you to cum in my mouth.” He said. “Please I want it.”

“Fuck im cumming.” He put his mouth back on your cunt, your legs tightened around his head, cumming — haechan catching all of it, getting even more intoxicated. “Haechan.” You whined as he cleaned up his mess, pulling away. “Did I do good?”

You ran your hand through his messy hair. “yes, you did.” He smiley like a fool. “You like being called good boy" You smirked. “Are you- are you a sub.” He pinched your thigh, you hissed, tugging at his hair. “im not a sub.” He said. “Just being called good boy by you turns me on.”

“So it’s just me?” You smirked, he could hear the condescending tone. “If you tell anybody then I’ll deny.” He said. “Too bad the entire fucking apartment heard it, keep it down.” Jeno stood in the door. “and I still got to fuck her first.” He closed the door. “now you have to let me fuck you.”

“Haechan get the fuck out my room.”

“You are right.” Jaemin ogled your bust. “Huh?” You said sitting in the front seat of the car, renjun driving since he was the only sensible one. “Your tits do look good in that bra.” Renjun looked at the boy through the mirror — he wasn’t dumb, he knew what was going on, he seen the changes happening, the sexual tension that was constantly lingering in air when you were around — it kind of made him jealous.

Renjun had always thought you were pretty , he was newer to the apartment, but he was constantly nervous whenever he tried to talk to you — often opting to stay to himself in his room. “Stop looking at my tits jaemin.” You said, turning around where the three boys were. “be on your best behaviors, no getting sloppy drunk, im not dragging you home.” You said, but they weren’t paying attention, you shook head turning around.

“My tits seem more important.” You said to yourself — renjun slammed on the breaks, quickly putting his arm out to stop you from  hitting your head on the dashboard, the guys in the back not so much. “Shit im sorry I thought I saw a cat in road.” Renjun said, as the guys in the back moaned and groaned in pain.

You turned to him, where he was smiling to himself. “We’re here anyway.” You said, as he parked the car. “Go drink it off, not too much though.” You said, climbing out the car. “I swear he did that on purpose.” You heard haechan mumble as you all walked into the bar where your other friends waited. “Thank you.” You turned to renjun. “F-for what.” He smiled, you laughed. “Don’t mention it.” He followed behind the guys where Johnny and mark were.

“What!?” Your friends looked at you with jaws dropped. “All of them?” jinhae asked. “well not renjun.” you said taking your sip of your drink. “but yes.” You said. “And they all know about it?” You nodded. “I mean they’ve all seemly walked in or found out in someway.” You said. “And they’re okay with that?”

“Do they really have a choice, im not really looking for a relationship and they can easily stop if they want, im not going to them for it.” You shrugged. “Wow you lucky bitch.” Dayhun said. “We can barely find a guy who can find the clit, and here you are getting good dick by 3 guys who actually want to fuck you.” You turned to where they were, all of them looking directly at you. “Hi.” Haechan waved beaming, jeno slapping the back of his head. You turned around laughing at them.

“Are you a loser?” Jeno slapped the back of the boys head. “Stop waving.” The boy rubbed the back of his head. “Will you guys stop hitting me, i am in pain!” He shrieked, Johnny  and mark caught on to the tension. “What the fuck is going on with you guys?” Johnny said. “There’s this air around all of you guys, and I can’t tell if it’s hostility or- it’s sexual hostility.” Renjun spoke up.

“Sexual hostility?” Mark questioned. “Why?” Renjun got up to get himself another drink while they explained to the two boys. “Hey.” You stood at the bar. “Hey.” He smiled, ordering his drink. “Are they drunk yet?” You asked. “Not yet give it another 20 minutes, we’ll be dragging them out of the bar.” You shook your head. “Great.” You said, the bartender returning with both of your drinks. “here for her drink too.”

“Thank you, you didn’t have to.” he held his hand up. “I wanted to, go have fun with your friends.” He said, turning to make his way back to the boys. “What were you guys talking about?” jaemin asked. “nothing I just bought her a drink.”

“what?” Johnny smirked. “You fucked her too, lucky bastard.” Renjun rolled his eye. “No im not fucking her.” He said. “you mean they’re all fucking her, but not you.” Mark said with wide eyes. “Like is this voluntary or does she find something wrong with you?” Renjun cursed at the boys as they busted out into laughter. “I’m leaving all of you here watch, you bastards I hope you all get an std and won’t be able to have sex at all.”

And of course you had to end up dragging haechan out of the bar — jaemin and jeno dragging their bodies behind, stumbling. “Stupid fuckers who can’t hold your drinks.” Renjun held the door open as you dropped Haechans body in the back seat, letting them all crawl into the back. “Thank you love.” Haechan slurred, you shut the door climbing into the passengers seat— renjun into the drivers.

The ride home was nothing the sorts of good, jeno and jaemin arguing drunkenly about random shit, and haechan dry heaving complaining about having to throw up. “junie think you can speed up this car, before I take the wheel and crash it.” He nodded, pressing on the gas.

You guys finally got back to the apartment, renjun dragging haechan by his collar. “Be more gentle, im sick.” He whined. “And who’s fault is that, renjun opened the door to haechans room, pushing him inside closing the door.

“Hey yn, come.” Jaemin slurred. “Let’s go in your room.” He smirked. “If think you’re getting fucked tonight think again.” You took his hand off your shoulder. “go to sleep and sober up.” You said, he pouted. “Jeno, lets cuddle.” You shook your head, watching jeno push at the boy. “No you have a boner, im not cuddling with you like that.” He said , you closed the door huffing. “see why I don’t go out with them often?”

Renjun stood up against the wall. “This will be last time I go out with them two.” You said, walking into the kitchen, renjun followed behind. “Here.” You reached into the fridge pulling out two beers. “For your help in getting them to bed.”

He took the can from you, you opened yours taking a sip. “I think staying home is way better anyway, my feet are killing me and this bra is uncomfortable.” You bent over taking your shoes off, giving renjun a  perfect shot of your boobs. He took a sip of his drink, trying to look away.

“Don’t wear things that make you uncomfortable.” He said, you smiled. “look at you being all caring, this is the most you’ve said to me in a week, I was certain you hated me.” You walked into the living room sitting down on the couch. “I don’ hate you.” He said.

“Could’ve fooled me.” You said. “I don’t really, Im just nervous.” He said, you cocked your head to the side. “Nervous?” You questioned. “why are you nervous?” He said too much , he sat the beer down. “Maybe the drinks from the bar and that beer is too much.” He felt the heat rising to his face. “Im talking too much.”

You chuckled, he smiled before chuckling too. “No tell me why are you nervous?” You said, putting your hand on his thigh — he knew you meant it in a comforting way, but his cock clearly didn’t get the memo, twitching against his jeans. “W-well because you’re you.”

“Im me?” You questioned, he nodded. “You’re pretty and smart and you don’t care about what people think and you're hot.” He covered his mouth, he swears he’ll never drink around you again. “fuck im an idiot.” He said. “No it’s cute, you’re cute.”

You hissed again, the pain in your shoulder increasing. “it’s time to give this bra up.” You sighed, rubbing your shoulder. “Let me." He said. “Oh you don’t have to, once I go to my room it will be off.” You said, but he stopped you.  “im good at these things, trust me.” He said. “fine.”

You turned around, your back was facing him. He moved your hair to the side, bringing his hands to your tender shoulders, rubbing — you sighed as he magically worked on your shoulders. “Fuck that feels good.” You whispered.

He was bit his lip, but you sounded so pretty, your moans going straight to his cock. “You have like magic fingers or something.” He hummed, sliding your bra down your shoulder, your neck fully on display — ready to be kissed.

“You feel better?” He said you nodded. “You’re a god send.” You said, his hands lingered on your neck. “Renjun.” You were about to turn around and question him, when you felt his lips against your neck. “Im sorry.” He whispered. “I just don’t think I can handle myself anymore.” he left little kisses along your shoulder blades, nipping lightly making you shiver. You turned around, slamming your lips against his.

You climbed into his lap, unbuttoning his shirt — reaching behind undoing your bra. “fuck you’re so pretty.” He groaned, you sat directly on his cock. “m'so hard right now.” He groaned, you grinded against him. “fuck, please don’t tease me.”

You got up, he undid his pants lifting his hips up, leaving them at his ankles. You lift under your skirt, pulling your panties down, climbing back into his lap, you grabbed the base of his cock, sinking down on it. “shit.” He sighed as you sat down fully on his cock. “Fuck you’re so tight.” You moaned out, holding his shoulders for support.

“Y-you’re so big.” He groaned. “Fu-fuck yn, please move.” You began to move your hips, up and down on his cock — he held your hips, guiding you. “your cunt feels so good.” He groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure, he felt like he was in heaven, the way your cunt fluttered around him, squeezing his cock beautifully. “Oh fuck -fuck- im gonna cum.” He groaned. “Im not wearing a condom, get up, im gonna cum.”

But you don’t listen, you keep riding him. “Fuck, yn please.” He groaned, trying to hold off. You tug at his hair, whispering in his ear. “Fuck, please just cum.” You moaned. “Please im gonna cum.” He cursed, fuck you were killing him. “Fuck!” He groaned, shooting his load into your cunt, triggering your own orgasm. “Sh-shit renjun!”

Your legs trembled as you rode out your high. “god your beautiful.” He pulled you into a kiss — out of all of them he was the only one to kiss you.

You both later went to bed, and you didn’t wake up until the next morning when you heard them fussing in the kitchen, you groaning as you stomped into the kitchen. “What the fuck is going on?” You yelled. “Where is the coffee? I need coffee.” Haechan groaned.

“And that’s why you’re raging early in the damn morning.” You opened the cabinet, slamming it. “Why so loud?”  Jaemin rubbing his temples. “Im pissed.” You sat down at the table. “Why did renjun not make you cum?” You eyes shot open. “Are you people just waiting by for the next time I fuck one of you?” You said.

“I did make her cum.” Renjun walked out of the room, his bag on his back — seemingly the only one with his life together. “You could’ve too had you not been drunk out of  your mind.” He said, jeno and jaemin snickered on the side.

“I want to smack that smirk off his face.” Haechan grumbled, as renjun walked out of the apartment satisfied. “Don’t get all pouty, you’re still my good boy.” You teased. “Yah, I said don’t talk about that outside of the bedroom.” He said. “Wait does that mean I was the best?”

“Yn don’t answer that.” Jeno said, jaemin agreed. “please don’t.” You turned to the other boy who was waiting. “Answer it , I can take it.” He said. “You can’t bitch about it.” Jaemin scoffed. “He’s gonna do that anyway.”

“Just answer it.” He said, “no you weren’t the best at fucking me.” He frowned. “We told you.” Jeno said. “Are you serious? How could you be so cruel and say that?” He whined. “Be calm.” You said. “You didn’t even let me finish.” He flagged you off. “I don’t want to hear it.” He said.

“Was it jaemin?” Jeno asked. “No.” Jaemin didn’t seem so surprised. “I guess I gotta keep trying.” He said. “That’s the spirit.”

“Then who is it?” Haechan spoke up. “renjun or jeno?” he questioned. “if you say renjun im gonna kill myself.” You shook your head. “well if would’ve let me finish, you would’ve known that you and jaemin weren’t even in the race.” You said. “Why, are you that biased?” He argued.

“No dumbass because you two didn’t actually fuck me.”

©️LUVYENI

[realexotrash]

jaemin knowing how much of a lil virgin lewser his bestie haechan is so he, being the bestest friend on the entire planet 🤓☝🏼, decides to let haech fuck his gf. but what he didn’t know was how much of a secret FREAK haech was . 😈😈😈😈😈

- ☀️ (im still crying bcz of my last ask pls it was w bfs cousin perv!haechan 🙁😢)

a/n: this turned out to be way longer than a hard hour… let’s just pretend it still is one… i had too much fun writing it thank u for letting me write this…

warnings: fem!reader, consented cuckolding, virginity loss, unprotected sex, premature ejaculation, exhibitionism and voyeurism, haechan isn’t too good of a friend in this, pervert haechan (LOL), not proofread i’ll do it soon

-

it’s not like you’re unaware of how much jaemin’s best friend stares at you.

he does it openly, any chance he gets to see you when he hangs out with jaemin. you would think that your boyfriend would tell him to stop, set some clear boundaries for haechan. but he doesn’t. you even catch jaemin smiling at how hard haechan stares at you.

which is why you aren’t too surprised when jaemin proposes you an idea. he wants to watch haechan fuck you.

he says it with no hesitance in his voice. he’s so sure about his words, showing you an innocent smile as if his words don’t hold any meaning. you thought jaemin could be a little jealous at times, but apparently not when it comes to his friend.

“babe, you don’t get it. he talks about wanting to get his dick wet probably too much.”

“and your solution to that is having me fuck him? and you watching?”

he presses a small kiss to your cheek, “i just think it would be nice knowing that i make you feel better than any other man could.”

you roll your eyes, pretending not to be too excited when you agree to him. you ask how it’s going to happen, but he tells you not to worry, he’ll get it all sorted out.

which leads you to today, seated on jaemin’s bed with haechan in front of you. he still has his heavy stare over you, eyes glazing over at the sight of you in just a t-shirt and panties.

his hands grip his thighs, trying to fight back a smile at the thought of getting to fuck you. he won’t ever admit it to you, but he’s gotten off to the thought of you way too many times to count. you could probably figure it out either way, he’s not that ashamed.

you assume since he’s a virgin, he probably doesn’t know how to start this. you move to settle in his lap, eying jaemin who’s sat on the other end of the bed. he smiles at your forwardness, his hands moving to cross over his stomach.

haechan doesn’t like how you’re already not looking at him, whining lightly to get your attention. you want to laugh at the sound, but before you can he presses his lips messily against yours. you can feel how desperate he is, trying to keep up with him.

he’s quick to lick into your mouth, letting him take what he wants. you’re brought out of your haze when you feel his hands move all over your body while he whimpers into your mouth. his hands seem to stay at your chest, groping around.

he can feel you’re not wearing a bra, and he lets out a moan, not caring how embarrassing he sounds. none of it matters when you’re right in front of him. it’s even better that your boyfriend is sitting off to the side, haechan can pretend he isn’t there.

he feels different than how jaemin touches you. haechan’s hands are rough against your skin, his mouth molding against yours with no patience. jaemin likes to take his time, thinking only about you as he touches you.

haechan is only thinking about himself and how good he can feel. you smile to yourself knowing that you’re the one making him feel that way.

suddenly, haechan pushes you down on the bed. he cages you in, still kissing you as his hands trail under your shirt. you can feel them shaking against you as they move higher.

he pulls away from you, his eyes blown out and lips swollen as he pulls up your shirt, revealing your boobs to him. he practically moans at the sight, face immediately falling to your chest to suck and pinch at your nipples.

your hands thread in his hair, throwing your head back as you make eye contact with jaemin. he’s palming himself through his sweats, eyebrows furrowed.

sending a smile your way, jaemin speaks, “angel, is he making you feel good?”

“y-yes, jaemin-”

haechan cuts you off, “tell me how good i’m making you feel.”

you moan, “making me feel so good, want you to keep touching me!”

you can feel him smirking against your skin. he continues to play with your chest, feeling him grind into your thigh. he’s getting off from just licking at your chest.

haechan has only had the chance to look at your chest from afar, wondering just how your boobs would feel in his hands. he’s trying to memorize it all for when he gets off to you in the future.

he begins to pepper kisses down your abdomen, to your stomach, and the skin above your panties. he parts your thighs, just enough for him to nuzzle his nose against the seat of your panties.

you move to look down at him, the sight almost too lewd for you to look at. his eyes flutter close, watching him inhale your scent. you wonder just how much he’s thought about doing this- doing this with you.

you almost forget jaemin is there with you two before hearing him shuffle around in bed. you look, watching how he takes off his sweats, his hard cock in his hand.

you almost want to reach out and wrap a fist around his length, helping out your boyfriend. but it’s all thrown out the window when haechan pulls down your panties, eyes widening at the sight of you bare and wet for him.

“such a pretty pussy…” he says mostly to himself. he lets his fingers run along your folds, his breath hitching with just how warm and wet you are. he doesn’t really know what else to do, but he knows he could sit here and toy with you all day.

you sit up a little, sending jaemin one look before turning to haechan. you grab one of his hands, putting two of his fingers at your entrance.

there’s a wry smile at your face when you look up at him, “just- just like this. want you to stretch me out a little.”

he nods, not saying a word as he slowly plunges his fingers inside of you. you’re so warm and tight, he’s not sure how he’s supposed to last once he’s inside you. does jaemin even fuck you like you need him to?

he can feel himself twitching in his shorts as he fingers you. it’s all too much for him to take in, watching you squirm under him as you let out pretty noises just for him to hear. they’re not for jaemin, they’re only for him.

he watches as your hips begin to roll against his fingers, feeling your walls begin to clench around his fingers. he moves a little faster, fingers curling up inside you like how he reads he’s supposed to do.

you let out a loud whimper, your hand moving to wrap around his wrist, stopping his movements. he looks up at you, shock written on his face.

you practically yell out, “want you in me already, wanna be filled up by your cock, haechan!”

his mind reels with the way you moan his name, sounding better than any porn he’s watched. “yeah, y-you want me to fill your pussy up? wanna be filled up by my cum?”

you quickly nod, clawing at his shorts, begging for him to do something already.

haechan finally addresses jaemin for the first time since this has started, “you’ll let me cum in her, right?”

jaemin’s eyebrows furrow a little, his fist stopping its movements on his length. he doesn’t really have a say in it. “i mean… if she agrees…”

haechan taps your cheek to gain your attention, his fingers still distracting you, “pretty girl wants me to cum in her, don’t you?”

“y-yes! please jaemin, need him to cum in me!”

jaemin bites down on his tongue, trying not to think about it too hard. he nods, “yeah, you can go ahead.”

haechan is quick to pull down his shorts, not even taking them off completely, too impatient and horny to care. not when you’re waiting for him, waiting for him to fuck you.

you watch as his hand wraps quickly around his cock. he’s a lot thicker than jaemin, your thighs squeezing together at the thought of how he might feel inside you.

he jerks himself off a few times before he lines himself up at your entrance. he bites down on his lip, realizing it’s you who he’s losing his virginity to. he looks to see you staring at him with a dazed look, and he can feel his heart pound in his chest.

he rubs his tip against your folds, watching you arch your back once he realizes he rubs at your clit. he remembers it for next time (because there will be a next time) as his tries not to moan out at the feeling.

he moves back down to your waiting hole, slowly pushing himself in. it’s nothing he could’ve prepared himself for, you’re practically sucking him in. his hips stutter against yours once he bottoms out, eyes fluttering shut and cheeks turning red.

his arms give out, choosing to let himself cage you in, his head falling to your shoulder. you can hear him clearly now, every single whimper and moan of your name. he hasn’t started moving yet, but you can feel him twitch inside of you.

he’s shaking again, his hips trying to push himself deep inside of you. he can’t believe that you’re not his, that he can’t do this every single day with you.

he can feel you move a hand between the two of you, reaching to rub at your clit. you throw your head back to moan, clenching around him. it’s too much, and his hips buck into you.

he can hear jaemin’s words cut into the air, “haechan, you need to touch her.”

he pays no attention to jaemin’s words, choosing on his own to grope at your boob, pinching at your nipple. it sends shocks down your spine, clenching once more around him, letting out a whimper of his name.

he realizes then he isn’t going to last long. he tries moving, thrusts uncoordinated and sloppy with how close he is. he presses kisses against your skin, licking at the junction of your neck.

he moves to whisper in your ear, quiet enough just for the two of you, “you’re gonna let me cum in you, right, angel? gonna show your boyfriend that you’re mine?”

to his surprise, you nod, hands moving to his back to claw at his skin. at the stinging feel of your nails digging into his skin, his hips begin to fuck into yours, both of your loud moans filling the air.

if you listen hard enough, you can hear the squelch of jaemin fucking his fist. you mentally thank him for letting this happen, for letting you be able to fuck his best friend.

it’s sudden when haechan cums in you, a loud moan of your name slipping out of him before he messily kisses you again, his cum shooting into you. he doesn’t stop moving, his cum beginning to spill out of you, onto the sheets.

he sounds like he’s crying, hiccuping as he whines into your ear, “love fucking your pussy, it was made for me, made for me to fill up.”

you nod at his words, rolling your hips as you try to cum. he pulls away before you can, not knowing if he was teasing you on purpose or not. you can see him staring at your ruined cunt, leaking with all of him cum.

he catches his breath, hearing you whine out to him to continue. he looks at jaemin, watching as he sends a raised eyebrow at him, wondering just how far haechan might take this.

“you didn’t get to cum right?” haechan ignores jaemin, putting all of his focus back to you. through your bleary eyes, you can see haechan send jaemin a smirk.

you can feel haechan begin to grind his spent cock into you, “this can’t end until i make her cum, until she wants to finish.”

[realexotrash]

# stepbrother!hyuck… nsfw !!

# nsfw + minors dni !! haechan is kind of a loser, mentioned reader situationship w jaemin, creampies and less than polite language. don’t like it, don’t read it.

bet that loser,,, jaemin doesn’t fuck you this good, huh? stepbrother!hyuck smirks smugly, if anything, the sheets torn off the corners of his bed say more than enough, as if the bruises on your hips and teary streaks down your cheeks can hide a lie. and as you attempt to cry some kind of reply, his hand shoves your face into his sheets, gray and black blurring your tear filled vision, haven’t fucked your dumb enough yet? shouldn’t even say shit, his grin only growing as he thrusts hard, hands gripping your hips up like a cute cunt to use when he fucks you, his oh so sweet stepsister, who’s supposedly in some kind of “in between not quite” relationship with jaemin or something, not like it fucking matters to him though.

but fuck, when you lean over your desk without the door closed, ass peeking out from beneath a short skirt, gaze so focused on dolling up for a date with jaemin, irritation seethes beneath his skin as he stares so shamelessly, your top dipping low enough to give him a generous view of yoir cleavage, outfit begging to be fucked in his backseat after a shitty date that jaemin gets because he’s charming, charismatic, some shit like that. and god, it makes him annoyed. so what else to do but fuck you up before your date, make you late, make you dumb on your stepbrother’s cock instead of jaemin’s, who fucking deserves to be left hanging for a bit anyways, doesn’t he.

and what a dumb stepsister you are, acting like you don’t want it when you’ve soaked your panties visibly, telling him ‘s not a good time, have a d-date! when you’re the one letting him spread your thighs, whining and begging him with doll eyes when he slaps and spits on your pussy, not even trying to hide the way you push your cute ass into his obvious bulge, like you want to get fucked by your stepbrother, some date you’ve got.

so what? your skirt flipped up as you whine and moan into his sheets, begging his name, h-hyuck, ‘so good ‘m gonna cum! drool on your lips as you peek up at him from over your shoulder, fingers clenching his comforter as he roughly thrusts into the lewd, soaked mess of your cunt, wet slaps of skin on skin as his glasses fog with heavy, panting breaths, your date night makeup running down with tears and outfit disheveled, gonna fuckin show up to your date like this, slut? sit on his lap when you’re stuffed with my cum? god, shouldn’t it be so embarrassing as heat flushes your skin, his taunts only making you moan his name, too dumb on his cock? wailing his name, h-hyuck— h-hyuck! you stupidly sob as your high is overridden by his, sensation of hot cum pouring into your used cunt as he creampies your pussy, leaking creamy white as you moan, stuffed full n filled up with your stepbrother’s seed, mascara stains and your drool on his comforter as hyuck can only scoff and roughly hit your ass. and the chime of your phone notifications going off, as he grabs your phone and unlocks it with your obvious 1111 passcode.

jaem (8:09): hey baby, coming soon?

jaem (8:23): been waiting for you, need your pussy, princess

jaem (9:17): really leaving me like this? i won’t be so nice next time.

and stepbrother!hyuck who snaps a photo of your spent pussy, leaking his cum, as his finger hovers over the send, his eyes dark with a taunt as he meets your desperate, teary gaze.

[realexotrash]

𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: any nct member!ghostface x detective!fem!reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: “horror”, thriller, yandere-ish, smut, halloween special, scream!au 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: in these past months your only goal is to find the killer that is terrorizing the town of Woodsboro, but when you get close to him and feel like you finally have the upper hand, Ghostface turns the game around again.  Or, Ghostface wants to play with you but not like he does with his victims, and you let him. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: dark content, talks of [m*rders, sl!tting throats, v!olent stuff in general], dr*g/anaesthetic use [to make mc fall asleep but unrelated to any sexu*l act (she’s awake and willing)], mentions of [dubcon] phone s*x + masturbation, implied stalking, use of restrainers, cl!t rubbing, rough t!t/n!pple play, protected s*x turns unprotected, kn!fe play, ‘fear’ play, clothes cutting, fake sympathy, pet names used in a mocking way, degradation, rough s*x, hair pulling, spit (1), p*ssy slapping, dacryphilia, possessiveness, 1 brief talk of carving, polaroids pictures, all consensual but i’ll still put a dubcon warning just to be safe (tbh it’s more like hate sex bc the mc would rip his head off but also fuck him), reader is kinda fucked up herself. | inclusivity notes: reader has hair long enough that can be pulled (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type but reader is manhandled a few times and has b**bs and *ss big enough that can be cupped, no mention of skin color, no use of y/n 𝐖𝐂: 10.662k 𝐀/𝐍: this year i had vague ideas for halloween but not even a defined good one, i had some suggestions i liked but were far too complicated, and i had no energy to write them in time. but a ghostface/scream au was an idea i had in mind for some time, the original was a ghostface cosplay, but then i went with this one, and I’m happy with how it turned out. i had 2 members in mind (johnny/haechan) for the og plot, then someone suggested jeno and jisung (as a duo) but if i unmasked him the plot wouldn’t have made sense anymore, so he’s whoever you want him to be! the other ghostface is mentioned but doesn’t appear physically in the story, you can pick who you want for him too. i never wrote blankly for the male mc so let me know if it was good. please, if you like it, leave feedback through reblogs or asks! and also let me know who you imagined behind the mask 👀 enjoy and happy halloween

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄.

Your mother always told you to mind your business or else your curiosity was going to be the death of you one day.

It’s clear you never treasured her words, and your curiosity led you to be a private detective with only a few thrills in your life since now, nothing too exciting ever happened in your small town, until one day you received a phone call from the district of Woodsboro. A string of murders was terrorizing the town after years and all the evidence led to another psycho who thought it was funnier to kill people while putting on a Ghostface mask. 

Months have passed since that call and you have nothing concrete. It’s like he’s only messing up with you and, in the meantime, innocent people keep dying. But you have your theories, the ones you only keep to yourself, stored away in the privacy of your diary, hidden under the pillow of your bed. Your colleagues seem decent people, but with time, you’ve learned to trust nobody. 

And your secret theories led you right where you are now. In the open country, away from the small town, where a small barn grabbed your attention the first time you moved to Woodsboro. 

The barn seems empty but eerie vibes surround it. The strong smell of the grass stings your nose as your black boots walk on the muddy ground, the rain of this morning still lingering in the air and in the countryside. 

When you reach the perimeter, you squeeze your eyes to see inside, but the few tiny windows don’t allow you a big view. The more you walk around it to make sure it’s empty, the more the hold on your concealed carry with the gun inside tightens.  

It’s late October and the cold penetrates your brown leather jacket, but the temperature is not the thing that makes you shiver. 

You should’ve never followed your instinct and come here alone. You should’ve spoken to somebody else in the department, told them your theory and have some backup in this crazy plan of yours. But when your impulses take over, your smartness slips away, and you find yourself in the worst situations ever. 

Like right now. You stand in front of the wooden door and find the courage to push it open. You should feel thrilled, you found him. You found the psycho that has been haunting the town for months now, messing up with you with clues and mocks that pushed you farther away from the right path. Yet, you beat him, for once it looks like you have the upper hand now that you’re walking around the empty barn away from the town. But something doesn’t feel right, your guts are telling you something but you don’t listen, you can’t walk away now that you’re so close.

There’s not much to inspect, a few pieces of furniture, a disheveled mattress in the middle of the room, and a few chairs in a corner. It almost looks like an abandoned farm if only it wasn’t for the unnerving vibes that carries with it and for two walls that call your attention. On the right, there’s a map of Woodsboro, pins linked by a red thread, connecting all the places where Ghostface hit in these past months. Your hand quickly reaches the back of your pocket to pull out your phone and snap a picture, hoping there will also be places he didn’t go, and this time you can be faster at stopping him. 

What’s on the other side is worse. 

“What the fuck…” you mumble under your breath as you step closer to the wall. Polaroid pictures hanging from it, Ghostface and the victims, you guess, moments before they were brutally killed. You’re not surprised, one of the gifts he would leave on the scene of the crime being Polaroids, but they didn’t make much sense. “He’s a fucking psycho,” you scoff as you take another picture. 

“Surpriiise!!” 

Your phone falls on the floor with a loud thud and your heart jumps in your throat when his voice breaks the deafening silence in the room, but your reflections are swift enough to make you reach for your gun and turn around, shooting. 

“Boo, fail,” Ghostface laughs, hitting your wrist hard enough to make the gun fall on the floor next to your phone. “You’re really not as smart as I thought you were, don’t you know intruding on someone else’s property is illegal?” he points out, pushing your body against the wall, the sharp blade of his knife grazing the skin of your neck. 

You try to keep calm, deep slow breaths as you try to don’t look scared for your life. You might die today, but you won’t give him that satisfaction. 

“Don’t look so frightened, my dear. I’m quite happy to have you all to myself,” he chuckles, his hand lifts to caress your face and you struggle to avoid it, but the click of his tongue makes you stop. “I wouldn’t act too careless, it’s sharp.” 

You stop moving. You are smart, and you can get yourself out of this situation. “Do you want to play a game, Ghostface?” You ask, ignoring his taunts, the irony in your voice is clear, just like it’s blatant in the slow bat of your eyelashes, but your words only make him laugh. 

“Oh, that’s not how it works, detective. That’s my line. You didn’t study the script?” 

You scoff, trying to take time to free yourself. “We’re switching roles. Do you want to play a game? It’s called you turn yourself in and I put you in jail.” 

He snickers, and his head tilts to have a better look at your face. He’s had many people in this position before and never saw so little fear in their eyes. “Now you want to act like you don’t love the chase?” 

“Fuck you, I don’t love it,” you spit out, narrowing your eyes, desperately trying to get a glimpse of anything under the mask. Another failed attempt. 

He laughs darkly, so deep it hits you to the core and makes you shiver — in fear or excitement, you’ll let this decide to your better judgment. “I know you do,” he coos as his thumb covered with the black glove caresses your lips. “Enjoy the little clues I leave you around? You were interested in the pictures, I knew you loved them, that’s why you get the prettiest ones. I tell you so much, but you don’t understand me,” his voice is calm, scarily calm, and full of sarcasm filled with a sweetness that feels like a slap across your face. “I was a bit mad it took you so long to find me.”

Rage shoots up inside of you, but you instantly push it down, you can’t lose your composure. “So, what are you going to do, kill me?” Your voice drops of a tone, and your eyes turn into a teasing gaze, making him chuckle. 

“Talking about death so nonchalantly with me, mmh… are you brave or dumb? Because if you ask so nicely, I just might let the knife sink in.” 

You laugh lightheartedly, putting up the best performance of your life before your eyes flutter seducingly at him. “No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel,” you coo, lips in a pout and innocence in your eyes, until you hit him with a swift, strong kick between his legs, the distraction of your performance giving you time to slip to the side, causing just a bit of your skin to cut and bleed. 

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he kneels to the ground. You reach for your gun, but barely have time to grab it before he pushes you on the floor again. “We were having so much fun, you just have to ruin everything.” 

You’re waiting for the worst when he traps you on the floor with his body on yours, but his arms don’t lift to stab you in your chest or stomach, the last thing you see before passing out is his hand lifting in the air and the sting of a needle pushing past your skin. 

The white light of the room feels like staring directly at the sun when your eyes blink repeatedly as you try to come back to earth and push away the hammering of your headache. You groan hoarsely, trying to adjust to the light, but the biggest discomfort comes from your shoulders, pushed behind your back and around the chair you’re now sitting on. 

“Sorry, I had to tie you up, but you’re a bit feisty today. Didn’t want you to get hurt,” Ghostface replies to your silent questions — not so silent, considering how loud you’re groaning and struggling on the chair, trying to break free. He’s standing in front of you, but a chair is right behind him so you guess he was sitting there before you woke up. 

“You can’t even take one down without a fight? Need to kill me without breaking a sweat?” You taunt, eyes dark and a deep frown on your forehead. 

But your teasing seems to leave him unfazed as he walks toward you with a glass in hand. “Drink.” 

You scoff, staring at him. You hate that you can’t see him, not even because you want to find out who’s hiding under there, but also because you feel like you can’t confront him well enough. “You think I’m so stupid to accept a drink from a psycho?”

His head rolls back followed by an annoyed sigh as he stops right in front of you. His black boots bumping against yours. “You know that’s not how I move, no fun in killing with these shortcuts. Drink. I would never want you to pass out here,” he coos while his free hand pushes your hair out of your face. You can’t see behind the mask, but you know he has a shit-eating grin on his face. He moves the glass to your lips, but you turn to the side, he doesn’t give you a choice when he strongly grips your chin, pushing your lips open, and forces the water down your throat. “Oops, it spilled all over, you’re so messy, detective,” he snickers when water drips on your chin and shirt. As if he didn’t do it on purpose. 

“Asshole,” you mutter, eyes closing into fissures while you look at him. His head tilts, “Oh, brave. I could slit your throat right now, add you to the collection.” 

You chuckle darkly, shaking your head. “You won’t,” you say firmly. “You’ve never had someone quite as fun as me.” 

A low laughter escapes from the mask. “So, you are at least a bit smart?” His hand places on your thigh and you try to move away, but the chair screeches on the floor, and his hold only tightens. 

“Don’t play games now. Don’t fake it,” he groans, hand moving up on your blue jeans. “You enjoyed our last conversation,” he whispers, the mask close to your face, so close you can almost see his eyes behind the blackness of the two holes. “Had shivers run down your back when the phone rang in the middle of the night, haven’t you? You sat up straight in your big bed, all alone, and felt fear take over. Never answer unknown numbers. That’s what they say, that’s what you say, running around town, warning everyone about me,” he laughs deeply. “And then look at you, picking up that phone call, eager to hear my voice on the other side.” 

“You’re a psycho,” you spit out, struggling against the restrainers. But once again it is an act; he is a psycho, but you are starting to fear you aren’t much different. 

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, I am, never denied that. But don’t act better than me. You stood right in front of that window, stripping for me, touching yourself for me, moaning for me. How fucked up that is?” He snickers. “You have fucked up fantasies, my pretty detective, but I’m not one to judge. I’d gladly help.” 

You laugh quietly, trying to look confident but it comes out shaky from your throat, “If you want to help, take the mask off and show me who you are.” 

“Wow, wow, darling. Not so soon, I’m not one to burn stages in a relationship. What next? Want to meet my mom?” 

You inhale sharply, and spit on him, “God, you’re insane.” Your eyes snap open when he pulls out of his back the sharp knife, your breath is stuck in your throat and fear runs all over your body. And once again you regret how impulsive you are. You did well all these past years of training and then on the first real-life experiences at pushing this side of you in the cage, but it looks like it’s coming out like a beast that’s been trapped too long.  

“Don’t be so scared,” he huffs, the fake sympathy in his voice should make you mad but it triggers something else inside of you, and you hate to admit that he might be right, you’re enjoying this more than you should, you’re enjoying this entire chase more than you should. It’s like a game, but it’s not when real people are dying. “I would never hurt you,” his voice is raspy, slightly muffled by the ghost mask he’s wearing, and the knife sits on your sternum. “I hope you didn’t like this shirt too much, detective.” 

You don’t have time to react, the steel cuts your shirt neatly, the sound bouncing in the small room and the sharp tip brushing your skin. You shiver, gulping hard and closing your eyes, already feeling the sensation of it cutting through you, but it doesn’t happen. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head disappointingly. “You truly don’t trust me. I’m offended, and I don’t like when people offend me. Just like I don’t like when they hang up the phone while we’re playing. If people were respectful, I wouldn’t have to kill them, you know?” You stare at him with a furrow on your face, you’d like to take the mask off and see his eyes, not really to find out who’s hiding underneath that mask, but to see if his gaze is as insane as you imagine it to be. 

“Let me go,” you say, the skin of your wrist bruised from the pressure you’re applying against the ropes.

“Don’t struggle too much, it turns me on,” he warns, kneeling at your level. He smiles softly and thinks it’s a pity you can’t see it, you’re just so pretty, with your beautiful face filled with different emotions and your eyes looking at him with a gaze that wants to be threatening but it’s all the opposite, almost making you look like a lost puppy.  

“Why?” 

“Why? It’s funny to see the victim beg for their life, it makes you feel powerful, you could show mercy, but you don’t,” the smug smile on his hidden face can be heard in his voice and you shiver at how cold he sounds, the shrug of his shoulder is just the cherry on top to his unhinged behaviour. 

“So, you’re just going to keep me here?” 

“No, I want to play with you. Do you want to play a game, detective?” 

Your gaze falls on your thighs where his hand is placed again, the black gloves preventing it from leaving traces behind, as it slowly moves closer to your heat. 

You snicker, pretending to play it cool, but your breath twitches at the contact. “’Cause if I said no you would stop?” 

“Hey, I’m a killer, not a rapist,” he defends, shrugging. Yet, you still don’t reply, and he doesn’t like that. “So? I’m not so patient when I ask people if they want to play with me, so don’t test me.” 

You swallow hard, swiftly looking around to see if you can pull a move on him. Damnit, it’s your chance to get him and throw him in jail but instead, you’re seriously thinking about his proposal. You fool yourself that you’re only doing this because maybe he could slip, maybe he could say something in the heat of the moment that could give you a clue, or he could leave his traces on you somehow, maybe his mask could fall, but you know you’re feeling something else. Attraction. 

“I said,” he mutters, his face comes closer to yours, making you pull back, and the knife pushes flat in the hollow of your chest, “do you want to play a game, detective?” 

“Yes, yes, I do,” you mutter, starting to breathe again when he pulls the knife away. 

“Good, I love playing with you.” His fingers move to unbutton your jeans and then pull the zip down, you look at him attentively. “Lift your hips for me, love?”

You glare at him at the pet name but he only chuckles deeply. “What? If I’m rough with you, you get mad, if I’m sweet with you, you get mad. I can never win, can I?” 

You huff, deciding it’s better to not reply and just do as he says. Your pants are quickly at your ankles and suddenly you feel even more trapped than before now that you can’t even move your legs, but his touch on your naked skin takes you away from that thought. 

“Pretty panties just for me?” He coos, tilting his head to the side as he stares at your burgundy panties with the lace trim. “Were you hoping to find me here so we could finish what we started on the phone?” 

“Shut up, this is not for you,” you retort, your forehead creasing with a furrow. 

“And who is it for?” He asks, cupping your pussy, watching your body shiver. “Oh, no, please don’t tell me there’s a boyfriend I’m not aware of. I’d hate to kill him.” 

You bite your lips and keep the contact with the mask, but words struggle to come out when his index finger starts rubbing on your clit, moving from the slit —where you can feel you’re starting to get wet— to your sensitive nub. “It’s not for you,” you repeat, trying to don’t show how much his touch is affecting you. 

“Well, you want me to work so hard too, I’ll have to find out on my own if someone is playing with what’s mine,” he replays nonchalantly. “I know where to find you, maybe I’ll come visit again.” 

“You talk so much for someone who wants to play so badly,” you retort, a teasing grin curling your lips. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know my princess was so eager,” he replies, saccharine voice filled with mockery, before a harsh slap lands on your pussy making you jolt and whimper. “Want my fingers?”

The glare you give him would be enough to kill him; isn’t this pathetic enough? How much more does he want you to humiliate yourself? 

He rolls his head back and then the knife is against your neck again. “Do we have to do this every time I ask you a question? Do you want my fingers, detective?” 

“Yes,” you whisper. Your body relaxes momentarily before tensing up with excitement again, but it quickly shifts to disappointment. “What are you doing?” You ask when his covered fingers press against you again. 

“Oh, you’ll get the gloves too, I’m not dumb, you know? Don’t leave fingerprints on dead bodies, won’t even leave them on yours,” his voice is smug, all the confidence of someone who didn’t make a wrong move and somehow was always ahead of you and the police department. 

You hate him. You hate he’s so much better than you at this. And you hate him even more now that he has you fighting whimpers and moans. 

“Are you seriously going to pretend you don’t like this while your hips are bucking up?” He taunts, clicking his tongue in a mock. “Think moaning is more pathetic than humping my fingers like a bitch in heat?” 

Your mouth opens to retort but you can’t deny the evidence; your hips are rolling against his hand, chasing for more, your panties are darkening as your wetness leaks through the fabric and your chest is heaving in erratic motions.  

“Look at me,” he sings, hand moving up to graze your neck, thumb pressing on your carotid, making your head snap up. “You listen so swiftly when you fear for your life. It’s funny, you know, because I truly would never hurt you.” 

You chuckle, shaking your head, trying to pull away from his hold when his hand moves up to caress your jaw. The gentleness of his touch is even scarier than when he has his knife pointed against you. “Is this what turns you on? The fear in their eyes?” 

His head tilts to the side, shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Partially. But not in your case, what turns me on with you it’s the chase, and the fact I always win.” 

You scoff bitterly, struggling in his hold but his hand quickly grips your chin and pulls you closer. “Didn’t you see the movies? The villain always dies.” 

“If the heroine is not busy getting fucked by him,” he mocks, squeezing your face harder and moving his fingers faster on your clit. Your head rolls back and so do your eyes while a chocked moan leaves your lips. “See, I doubt you will shoot me in the head if you keep moaning like this.” 

You groan angrily, you’re madder at you than you are at him. You want him and it’s so wrong that you do, but there’s not even a siren ringing in your head, telling you to make this stop. 

“No, shh, shh, angel, it’s fine, this will be our little secret,” he whispers to your ear, the mask rubbing against your face, and when your eyes turn to look at him, you can see small dots of blood on the white varnish. “We could play another game: one secret for you, and one secret for me. If you behave, maybe I’ll reveal myself to you, if you promise to keep it to yourself.” 

Your teeth sink into your lips harder when he delivers another harsh slap on your clit before resuming his quick movements. “Just — just tell me if I know you,” you mumble. You know he will never reveal himself, but maybe you can get something more, anything to complete the missing pieces of the puzzle. 

He chuckles darkly, staring at a spot behind you as he pretends to think. “Mhh, we’ve met.”

You frown and your heart jumps in your throat for a moment at the thought you’ve seen him. “Only met?” 

“We talked,” he adds, finally letting go of your face, making you breathe normally again. 

Your eyes widen while your brain hurts as you try to quickly connect the dots, and find out who’s hiding underneath the mask, you just have to put a face on a voice — even if distorted, but you can’t. And suddenly realization slumps on you.

“Will it — will it break my heart?” 

He snickers under his breath as he looks into your sad eyes, you’re looking at him like a dog when it’s being scolded, but in this case, you’re also silently praying he’s not someone close to you. He has no idea why that would make you feel better, if you care more about Ghostface or whoever is hiding under the mask, but it doesn’t matter, and he mocks you again, mimicking you in a high-pitched voice. “Will it hurt if I was someone close to you? A colleague? A friend? A lover?” 

Your breath gets faster. Will it? Would you turn him in or defend him? And you can’t stand you’re even questioning it, of course you’ll turn him in, that’s your job, but most importantly, your duty. But will you? You could be doing it now, and you’re not. 

“See? It’s not as funny if you know me,” he laughs at your face, your thoughts so loud he could get a headache. “It’s not as exciting, you love the thrill of this too, more than you like to admit.” 

“Fuck,” you curse when his other hand cups your covered breast, it’s a harsh tug and the leather feels weird on your skin, yet, it makes you clasp your thighs and forget what was tormenting your morals, again. 

“They’re so perfect, I can’t believe you always keep them hidden under those ugly clothes,” he pouts, giving it another hard squeeze. “Sorry.”

“For what — what the fuck?” You scream when he cuts your bra with the knife, first the middle and then the straps, the matching burgundy bra falling in pieces on the bottom of the chair. 

“It was getting in the way, and I don’t like things that get in my way. I cut them off,” in his voice lingers a hysterical laugh that makes you shiver, and in times like this, you’re glad you can’t see his face.  

You gulp and automatically close your legs. 

“Not you,” he reassures you, forcing your thighs open again with a smack, “you entertain me. And you suck at your job, so it’s clear you also don’t get in the way.” 

“I’m good at my job and I will get you and put you behind bars —” 

“Uh, uh,” he clicks his tongue, knife under your jaw before you can even finish the sentence, silencing you in an instant. “We were having so much fun, don’t ruin it, babe.”

You swallow and look down following the path he’s tracing with the knife, goosebumps bloom on your skin and you hold your breath when it gets closer to your neck, only releasing it when the blade sits in the hollow of your chest. 

“It’s so funny how you shake like a leaf, I’m a professional,” he says, sounding almost offended. And you furrow, is he talking about the knife or his fingers? “Both, love.” 

Another groan leaves your lips before he moves the crotch to the side and the cold air of the room hits your burning core. You’ve never been so ashamed your entire life, you shouldn’t be an open book to him, you shouldn’t be so malleable in his hands, it’s pathetic and humiliating. 

“You’re so fucking wet. I’m quite pissed I can’t run to the police department and let them know how much I turn you on. I can already see the disappointment on their faces,” he taunts, the slick sound of his gloves against your dripping pussy burns your body in shame and excitement.  

“Don’t you dare,” you spit out, but you don’t sound so menacing since your voice breaks, and a pathetically high-pitched moan rolls from your tongue right after.  

“I said I’m not going to, I keep my promises,” he kneels to the ground, one hand keeping you spread more and the other is still busy taking care of you. “Maybe if you promise you won’t shoot or put me in handcuffs right away when you’ll find out who I am, I can eat you out. I bet you let out the prettiest moans when you have someone between your legs.” 

Your head rolls back, and you hiss. “You wish,” you retort through gritted teeth, but a part of you dies to know what that would be like. “I will never give you the satisfaction.” 

He laughs mockingly. “Maybe I should blindfold you and do it now, will you recognize me by that?” At those words your body tenses up, head standing straight again as you look down at him with terror in your eyes. “What?” He asks in a giggle, surprised by your reaction. “You’re fucking with me right now, I still have blood on me. Would that be the most problematic thing? Having fucked with me before? Without this mask?” 

“You’re just messing with me,” you mutter but your brain is trying to think, the list of the people you’ve been with is not that long, he can’t be so stupid to out himself like that, right? 

“Maybe… I love it when I can see you think,” he whispers. “Usually, you have your hands in your hair, pulling at it even if you just washed it or spent hours styling it, and then you nervously bite your right thumb, somehow there’s always a hangnail to pull until it bleeds, oh, and you also nervously walk back and forth, two steps forward, two steps back. It’s cute, really. You have no fucking clue how to stop this, but you look so into it, chasing after me… well, so you think because, let’s be honest, you’re only chasing after your tail.” 

You can’t believe he knows all of this, how close to you is he? And a few names start popping into your mind, but for each face that you see, your only answer is it can’t be. 

“Why are you surprised? I told you, I love watching you,” he says, voice scarily soft even through the distortion of the mask. “You’re very pretty, detective. When you work hard to catch me, and even more when you screw it all up to moan for me.” 

“Ugh,” you groan through gritted teeth, wrist rubbing against the rope keeping you in place and hips bucking up, anger and pleasure mixing like a drug in your brain. You hate to admit it, but you’re close and you doubt you can push back your climax any longer.  

“It’s alright, love, I told you, I won’t judge you,” he hums. He studies your face for a moment, admiring how your teeth trap your lips in the vain attempt to don’t truly show how much you’re enjoying this, but your eyes are filled with lust, lightly glassy, and your cum is painting his gloves white. “Now, will you come for me?” 

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, your body shutters as the orgasm washes over you, the quick movements of his fingers on your sensitive clit making your nails dig into the palm of your hands while your moans slip out of you freely. Your morality disappears, getting dragged away with the orgasm that consumes you before leaving. 

You forget where you are for a moment, or to be more precise, with who you are with, as you let your head roll back, close your eyes and take deep breaths, waiting for the high to pass. 

The thing doesn’t bother Ghostface, though, he sees enough fear in people’s eyes, he likes it better when you stop pretending and relax around him. That’s the thrilling thing about you, you are the most entertaining game he has ever played. With all the others he knows how it will end, their lifeless bodies laying in a pool of their own blood and the sirens of the police going off in the background as he blends in with the crowd, but with you? It’s unknown. Like a Russian roulette. 

He’d love to shred all your clothes off, but he knows you’d have to spill your guts (not literally) if you walk out of there completely naked, and he’s sure the version you would tell the police would add another crime to his name. So, he takes your shoes off and then pulls your pants down. 

Your laugh makes him raise his face and stare at you. “What’s so funny, dollface?” 

You shrug, wetting your lips. “You scare me more when you act all sweet, you know?” 

He scoffs, standing up again, and caressing your face. “You want me to hurt you so badly. I could carve a heart right here,” he presses the tip of the blade next to your heart, tracing the shape of a heart, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. “It would look so pretty on you, and you will always carry me with you. Isn’t it nice? Couple goals.” 

You raise a brow at him, he doesn’t even realize it, but he’s giving away so much of his personality, even if you don’t find it out now, you’re pretty positive all of this is leading you somewhere. You shake your head quickly, trying not to show how hard you’re thinking about your plan. “I only want one thing from you, and you know what it is.” 

He chuckles, leaning next to your ear. “My dick.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” you curse, accidentally kicking him now that your legs are free to move. You suck your breath in, fearing your move, even if involuntary, might piss him off.  

He hisses but doesn’t do anything else. “Don’t get all bratty here, doll. You said you wanted to play a game, and we’re going to play it until the end.” 

When he cuts your panties and balls them in his fist, saying “keeping them as a souvenir,” with a grin that can be heard in his voice, you only reply with an “asshole.” 

Once again, he doesn’t pay your insults any mind, and you wonder why he’s so nice to you. Should you fear it? Will you be his last victim, getting the worst death of them all because he needs to put on a show? “Now I will untie you, if you play any trick on me… you know how it ends.” 

You nod quickly, watching him disappear from your view as he stands behind you. You inhale when the knife places against your neck again and roll your eyes back. “You don’t have to do this every time, you know?” 

“It turns you on,” he retorts firmly. “And I need to make sure you don’t do any funny business.” 

Your eyes roll back again but you try to relax anyway and keep still when your wrists are finally free. Your shoulders are in a more comfortable position again as you subtly roll them to ease up. “Get up,” he orders, and you follow, moving carefully because the blade is still close to your body and you don’t want to end up dead on the floor. “Good, now lay on the mattress.” 

Your face twists in disgust when you’re reminded of the mattress on the floor, but he pushes you forward. 

“We didn’t kill anybody there.” 

You stop, turning around swiftly, and his reflections are rapid enough that he doesn’t push the knife into your chest. “We?” 

“Oh… it didn’t click yet…” He laughs darkly at your expression, the whole world falling on your shoulders as you wonder how could you be so stupid to not realize it. “Sorry, love. But hey, aren’t you happy I helped you out?” 

You glare at him but then bring your hand to your hair and your thumb to your lips. Of course, there are two of them, that’s the only way they could always be so headed of you. 

“Not the right moment to think about that,” he warns, voice dropping lower, making you stop your nervous ticks. “Get on the bed.” 

You turn around again, suddenly aware that he’s completely covered and you’re bare. That thought makes you seek the cover of the mattress more, and swiftly you’re laying where he wants you. But it also turns you on, being so exposed to him while he’s giving you not even a peak of who’s under the mask and the clothes send chills down your body and more cum drips out you.

“Promise you’ll be good? We can play cat and mouse later if you want to,” he asks, the blade running flat on your boobs, making him chuckle darkly when your nipples harden at the contact and your hips buck up. “You promise, detective?” He repeats with urge when you don’t reply, too busy watching the knife move on your body as he pins you down. 

“Promise,” you reply, looking into the blackness of the eyes of the mask. 

He chuckles under the mask, and you watch him unbuckle his pants. You could easily grab the weapon that’s on your stomach and stab him, you could even un-mask him, but you lay still, almost mesmerized. And the conscience inside of you likes to remind you how fucked up you and your morals are, but you brush it off, shaking your head quickly. 

“Turn around,” he orders, but you hesitate. That’s too much vulnerability. It’s clear he doesn’t like your hesitation when he groans, grabbing the knife and pushing it aside. “God, I have to do everything with you,” he sighs as he forcefully flips you on your stomach before his legs trap you again. This time you can’t do anything even if you want to, but once again, you don’t want to. 

“Fuck,” he moans, hands cupping your full ass and squeezing hard, the firm hold eliciting a moan from you. “Look at you, so fucking pretty. Keep your head down, don’t try to even get a peak,” he warns, and your immediate reaction is to turn around to understand what’s going on, but you know better, so you press your face into the pillow and only when you hear the loud sound of a spit and a glob of saliva drip between your folds you understand what happened. “Not that it was needed, you’re dripping. But you know, I like to get messy at times.” 

You turn your face around, resting your head on the pillow, and bite your lips. The smugness and insanity of his voice causing more cum to ooze out of your pussy.  

“I want to feel you so bad,” he hums, spreading your cunt, making you feel so exposed, “but will you run to the police? Will you tell them ‘oh no, I had to fuck Mr. Ghostface to have a bit of his DNA and save the town from this psycho’?” he mocks with a high-pitched voice, it doesn’t sound like you at all, more like a hopeless, brain-dead, blonde girl that dies within the first minutes of any horror movie. 

You snicker. “You underestimate me, I could say I got those traces from somewhere else.” 

“But will you? Also, I’m pretty sure they will find traces of you too. How humiliating would that be? Come on, honey, I won’t blackmail you, but you will screw yourself over? That’s not very smart of you.” 

He’s right, you hate that he’s right. You will have to out yourself in the process of trying to turn him in. “I — I won’t.” 

Deep down he knows you won’t, there’s no way they won’t trace it back at you too, and he also knows you won’t try to play the victim when you’re not, but he needs to be conscious, one wrong step and you could turn the game around. As much as he likes to mock you, he knows you’re smart and have been close to discovering them a few times, it was a matter of luck, and they were extremely lucky. 

“Better safe than in jail,” he chuckles darkly, you don’t even try to peer around, and only listen to the plastic of the condom rip. 

You whimper when you feel the tip against your slit, and you hide your face in the pillow as if that could change the reality of what you’re willingly doing. You’re too excited to be so ashamed of your actions, but, even if some may argue your morality is nowhere to be found, it still feels like a big balloon hovering over you. 

You shiver when you feel the mask rest on your shoulder, “Nah, ah, angel, no being ashamed now. I told you I don’t like rude people, so don’t be rude and ask me nicely to fuck you.” 

The urge to slap him is stronger than anything else, but once again your greed makes him win. “Please… please fuck me.”

“Not what I want to hear, you know what I want. We practiced the other night, haven’t we?” He reminds you, a hand creeping around your neck, holding tight enough to make buzzes of fear run through your bones. 

You close your eyes, inhaling as deeply as you can while trying to find the courage to humiliate yourself one last time, but then the words slip out, “Please, fuck me, Ghostface,” and the air gets knocked out of your lungs when he pushes into you. It’s a strong, deep thrust that fills you to the brim and knocks you over. Your head falls against the pillow again while his loud groan fills your ears, “Fuck, it sounds so good from your lips.” 

“Oh, fuck,” you curse through gritted teeth when he starts moving right away, barely giving you time to adjust to the feeling, thick dick grazing your insides and strong hands wrapping around your waist tightly. 

“Is it too much for you, detective? My sweet little angel can’t take it?” 

A groan slips past your lips, you try to stand up on your elbows, but he pushes you down. His body presses against your back and you feel trapped again. “Don’t move. I will fuck you so deep into this mattress that I will feel your scent for days after this. I want your face smashed against the pillow, I want it to be wet with your ruined makeup and tears, got it? ” 

You nod quickly, shoulders dropping as you slump against the mattress. His breathing next to your ear makes you shiver, and you wonder if that’s the last thing the non-so-lucky people have met him heard before dying. But you push it away, for the sake of your sanity, you have to fool yourself that you’re not so attracted to a bloody murderer, that your morals are still intact, and that you are a good person. 

It’s pathetic how all the anger you feel disappears with each calculated thrust, pleasure getting to your brain so quickly you stop holding back. Soft whimpers and moans roll out of your tongue and unconsciously your ass grinds back into him.  

“Fuck, that’s what I want to hear,” he hums, standing up while his hands wrap around your waist. He never wanted to burn those gloves so badly, feeling the urge to feel your burning skin and mark you with his bare hands, but he can’t risk it. That doesn’t mean he can’t leave marks in other ways. One hand leaves your hips and cups your boob, eliciting a broken moan from you. “Have I told you they’re so pretty?” 

“Mhh,” you mumble, eyes closing as he pinches down on your nipple. You wish you could say it hurt you but instead, it makes you clench hard around him, cum leaking out more with each pinch on your delicate, sensitive buds. 

“Shit, you really are into pain,” he comments, there’s mockery in his voice —like always— but there’s also a genuine surprise. “Who would’ve thought, my innocent detective is way more fucked in the head than I thought.” 

“I — I’m not,” you retort, groaning and forcing your eyes open, but the deep chuckle that rumbles in his chest makes you quiver, and your attitude drops in a moment. 

“Honey,” he slurs, voice dipped in honey, “you’re letting Ghostface fuck you dumb, you are fucked in the head.” 

You shake your head quickly, but he’s had enough of your lies. The rough tug at your hair makes you let out a choked gasp as your head is lifted from the pillow. “I know you better than anyone else, angel,” he groans, mask pressed against your hot face. “I know your dirty, little secrets. I know what runs into that dirty, little mind of yours. You can’t lie to me,” he almost purrs, a low chuckle making shame fire up inside of you, “and I can feel you, princess. Squeezing me, barely allowing me to pull out to fuck back into you. Fuck — I should feel you right now, no stupid rubber between us.” 

Another broken moan slips from your lips when he roughly lets go of the hold on you, your fingers clench hard around the thin sheet under you, and your hips jerk up even more. It’s like you want to feel him more, to have him imprint himself deep into you, so far under your skin that you won’t be able to wash him off, and you don’t even know why you feel like this. Why it made you feel like this a week prior too, all the hesitation and fear as you picked up the phone and heard his breathy, distorted voice, flying out of the window the moment he started ordering you around. But was it truly an order when your only hesitation came from the fear of judgement, and you could only feel your body tingle with excitement? Sitting in front of the window, having no idea where he was hiding, putting on a show for the killer you swore you hated and making yourself come the hardest you’ve ever done. 

“It makes you feel special, doesn’t it? The way you’re the only exception. The only one I would never hurt.” His voice is lower, hitting you to the core, making your toes curl and your breath falter in your chest. “You’re like a daisy in a garden of bloody, red roses.” 

“Please,” you breathe out, choking on your tongue, eyes fluttering open shyly. 

“Want me to stop?” He coos, head cocking to the side as he lands a sharp slap on your asscheek that makes you hiccup on a whimper and then another to your boob that drags a louder cry out of you. “Don’t want to hear how special you are?” 

But that’s not what you meant. Your pleads were about something else, something you struggle to confess. 

A deep laugh resonates in his chest as he looks down at your already wrecked face. You’re so precious, he can’t believe you sometimes think he could hurt you. His prettiest game, his wildest fantasy. The thrill he feels in his bones every time he’s close to you, so, so near to being discovered and yet always safe. It’s exciting, getting to his brain so much he can hardly hide how much it turns him on. But you’ve never been this close before. He dreamed about fucking you, having you pressed under him, begging, moaning and crying as his dick hit deep into your sweet pussy, pounding into you over and over again until you were nothing but mush in his hands. He wanted to strip you down completely and leave nothing of the women he sees and admires every single day. He dreamed of having all this power over you, watching you get weak on your knees and let him do anything he wanted, watching your body convulse in pleasure and your brain empty. And here you are now; wet, fucked-out eyes looking up at him while your pretty, plump mouth opens and closes as your shut-down brain tries hard to find the words. 

“Speak up, princess. I don’t like to wait.” 

“Please, wa-want to feel you,” you slur in a whisper, eyes blinking lazily as you try to hold onto what’s left of your sanity. 

He chuckles, his thrusts coming to a stop that makes you whine in disappointment. “You want me to fuck you raw, detective?” 

You hum, nodding slowly, not for the lack of enthusiasm but for the amount of shame that’s looming over you like a tornado. But Ghostface doesn’t like your silences, he doesn’t like it when you hesitate, that’s not what turns him on about you. It’s your impulses, the way you jump into things headfirst without thinking, for some it may be dumb, but to him, it’s just that sprinkle of insane bravery that makes life exciting. Your head is yanked up again with a rough pull of your hair, but his hold quickly moves to your neck. “I thought we were over the phase where I have to drag the words out of your mouth, detective. I’ll ask nicely one last time, do you want me to fuck you raw?” 

You swallow your pride and reply meekly, “Ye-yes.” 

He chuckles, pulling out of you almost completely before sinking in again with no warning, knocking the air out of your lungs, air that’s already struggling to fill them as his hold on your neck doesn’t loosen up. “See? It wasn’t that hard, was it? Even your stupid brain could put two words together.” 

You gasp for air when he finally lets go and your face sinks on the pillow again. 

“I’d love to, but I won’t risk it. Maybe next time, maybe if I’ll ever feel like telling you who I am,” he replies, and you groan in disappointment. Not only he doesn’t give you what you want but he also mocks you, reminding you why you’re here and how your mission flushed down the toilet as you let him play you like a violin. 

“Then — fuck — please, fuck me harder,” at this point you want him to fuck you so hard your brain will just unplug and your superego can stop nagging at the back of your mind. You don’t want a single thought in your brain, just pleasure and lust. 

“That I can give it to you,” he hums happily, and in a second, he complies. His hips start snapping against you at a fast speed, his tip hitting you deep repeatedly as he keeps you arched back with one hand around your waist and the other one wrapped around the makeshift ponytail he made with your hair. 

You can already feel the orgasm build up at the tip of your stomach, but it only worsens when Ghostface roughly pulls you flat against him. Your head falls behind on his shoulder, eyes rolled far in your skull as your lips hang open to let out desperate moans and suck in as much air as possible. 

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he moans, his thumb rubs against your neck and jaw while his right hand squeezes and pulls your boobs hard before pinching the nipples. “Listen to those pretty sounds you make,” he snickers, “and you still want to pretend you’re innocent and pure? You’re fucked up just like me, baby, that’s why I like you so much,” he slurs. 

You blink, once again adjusting to the light is uncomfortable but you make out just in time the fact he’s holding a Polaroid camera. “Smile for the camera, babe,” his voice rings in your ears but doesn’t reach your brain and before you know it, you’re coming just like that. The look on your face is not a smile but an expression of blissed pleasure, the exact moment as the climax explodes inside of you, making you clench around his dick and shake in his arms, your arm twisting back, letting your hand claps on his bicep and sink your nail in the thick fabric of the black cloak.  

Ghostface would like to say he’s disappointed and scold you for misbehaving, but he can only stare at you with amused disbelief written all over his face. But you only see the constant expression of the mask and once again, you fear for a second he’s mad at you. Truth be told, he could even kill you right now, you wouldn’t mind much or even notice, too lost in the pleasure that’s still looming on your body. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, hips slowing down until they stop completely, “you just gifted me the most precious pic in my collection,” he whispers. You feel like the edge of mockery is still persistent but at the same time something genuine lingers in it, it doesn’t make it less creepy, but the ‘fuck me harder method’ worked because you don’t question his, and yours, fucked morality and just smile dumbly. 

And that smile, united with the slow bat of your wet eyelashes, is what he needs to lose it. 

“Oh, fuck it, I’ll clean you up once we’re done and if you’ll try to turn me in, I’ll find out, so you better keep your promise, alright?” 

You don’t get what he’s talking about right away, too fucked out as you lay on the mattress waiting for his next move, but when he pulls out of you and swiftly pulls the condom out, you get it. You bite your lips in anticipation and swing your hips in invitation. 

The sight would be enough to make him come right there, and he damns himself because out of all people, you can’t be his biggest weakness. It got to be some fucking joke of destiny. “Will you go to the police?” 

“No,” you mumble.  

“Good girl, because these little games are just for us, me and you, you can’t use what we do here to help you with your case.” When he sinks inside of you again, he feels like he could lose it all for the way your wet, warm walls wrap around him. “Fuck, fuck,” he curses, voice even more distorted now that he murmurs through gritted teeth, “you feel so fucking good.” 

His thrusts now are almost primal, desperately pounding you against the mattress, keeping you pinned down with a hand on the back of your head —not that you need that, you wouldn’t be able to hold your neck up even if you wanted to— and holding for dear life on your hips with the other. You’ll probably have some bruises by the end of the night, if not colored prints on your skin, surely light discomfort at the touch will follow you for a few days. And you almost want to beg him for more, to mark you in some other ways, to leave something just for you to see and carry with you. Sick and perverted thoughts cross your mind, and you push them away swiftly. 

You bite down on your lips when his hand leaves your side to torture your nipples again, he can barely push his hand between your body and the mattress, but he has just enough space to play with your sensitive nipples, making them even harder and causing you to clench even more around him. He loves how sensitive you are there and how each rub, pinch, and slap has you easily squirming and moaning under him.

“Look at you, going all dumb on my cock,” he groans, mockingly giving one harsh slap to your tits before his fingers trace your cheek. Your skin is so hot he can almost feel it through the fabric separating you, but what he’s most fascinated about are your tears, black mascara running down your beautiful face, dying on the pillow and your tortured parted lips. “Are you still thinking about being better than me or — fuck — have you finally embraced your dark side?” 

Not a word comes out of your mouth when you whimper back, and not even a thought crosses your mind. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he grins smugly. “You know,” he breathes out, head thrown back as it gets harder and harder to contain the orgasm, but he doesn’t want it to end so soon, “you should fire yourself and be my toy, just my toy, every time I need you, everywhere I need you. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? It’d make you feel even more special.” 

You mumble a weak reply, it’s a whispered ‘no,’ but your body doesn’t deny how much the thought turns you on. Too many responsibilities in your life and your job, too much to carry daily, but right now? Nothing. Guilt will eat you alive tomorrow but not now. Something feels exciting about being on the run with him, being the one that runs, instead of the one that chases. But it won’t happen, you believe in your job, and you want this slasher to end.  

“Cause only I can get you like this, ugh,” he grunts, hips slamming faster but more sloppily against your ass, the vulgar sounds filling up the room. “No man before and no man after will make you come this hard. Nobody, love. No matter how much you’ll want to, they all will disappoint you and you will look for me in every single one of them,” he groans, each word punctuated by a harsh slam of his hips, “well, the lucky ones that will get a taste before I’ll get them and kill them.” 

You don’t reply, just lay there, looking like a mess as you try to fight another orgasm because coming again would be humiliating. 

“It turns you on, doesn’t it?” You can hear the grin on his face and his voice has the edge of insanity of the usual. “Let’s be honest, you’ve got a list of shitty partners, you would’ve been grateful if I got rid of some of them.” 

“Fuck, just — just fuck me,” you beg, your hand reaching behind to touch him somehow, but he doesn’t like it. 

He grips your hand and pins it behind your back bending your arm, you hiss in discomfort, but he doesn’t let go. “Oh, no, angel. You don’t make the rules in this game, I do. If I want to sink into your brain and get so deep into you that I’ll make sure you will never come out the same, I will. I’m the darkest side of yourself, the fucked up filth you’re too afraid to face,” he groans. “And I know you’re close again. Your tight cunt is squeezing me, and you made a mess on the mattress,” he snickers. “Imagine if they find this place, this mattress, your DNA on it,” he stops, leaning next to your ear, voice dropping lower, “or better, imagine if they find us now. What do you say, detective? Would they be disappointed? Would they just jack off at the view? You look so hot right now, I wouldn’t blame them if they’d get off to you, to us together. Kill them surely, blame them not. We’re so hot, detective.” 

You squirm under him, feeling like the room is spinning fast and you can’t ground on anything. You have a darker thought in mind, something you can’t confess to him or else he won’t stop mocking you. You want to get caught, but not by your colleagues, by his partner. What would he do if he saw you and his partner in crimes like this? Would he understand this, or would he snap? Maybe even feeling betrayed. Does he even know you and him have been playing this game of attraction for a while now?  

Your silence doesn’t make Ghostface suspect anything. You simply look totally fucked out, brain empty as you plead in soft whimpers and moans. 

“You sound so fucking good,” he praises. “Why don’t we play another little game, uh?” 

Your eyes open in surprise and you hum with no strength, “what?” 

“Beg me to save your life,” he says, grabbing the knife again and placing it close to your neck. “Come on, do it for me, I won’t ever hear you say it because I will never want to kill you. Please, detective,” he coos, hips slowing down because your pussy is fogging his brain and he’s not sure his always-perfect aim and reflexes will work right now. 

You take a deep breath and then speak. “Please, Ghostface, please, spare my life.” 

His head rolls back, and a deep, groggy moan comes out of his lips. “Fuck, yes, keep going,” he orders, hips picking up the rhythm again as he skillfully flips the blade to the lesser sharp side just to be safe. 

And you obey. You beg, choked-up words slipping from your lips that soon turn into please, fuck me harder, and then please, wanna come. You feel boneless, your body is too hot, and you feel you might pass out, you need a release and then hope something bigger than you will make you get back on your legs and walk out of there as if nothing happened, as if you never followed your guts and found his —their— safe haven. 

“Come for me, love,” he orders, throwing the knife to the side before his hand sneaks under your body to roughly slap your clit a few times, enjoying the louder moans he drags out of you by doing so and watching with pleasure as your body squirms and shakes. “And don’t forget to smile for the camera.” 

This time your eyes lock with the polaroid that he points toward your face as his chin rests on your shoulder. But it only lasts for the time of the picture, your body collapses again when he lets go of your hair and you let the pleasure pervade you from head to toe. It’s breathtaking and mind-blowing, and next time you’ll fuck someone else you’ll hate that he’s right. You will feel him everywhere, you will feel his dick deep inside of you every time your fingers will desperately try to take its place, and every time you’ll let someone in your bed, but you don’t hate that thought as you should. 

“Fuck,” he groans, giving you a few more pumps to make sure you rode your high before slipping out and then roughly flipping you over. “Close your eyes,” he orders, and you follow with no hesitation —honestly, you were struggling to keep them open in the first place. 

Your heaving chest, your parted lips still letting out cries, your wet cheeks, and your trembling closed thighs are the last drop he needs to let go. Deep moans reach your ears while his hot cum drops on your face, most on your skin but some in your mouth, and they get even louder when you shyly swallow it and lick your lips for more. 

“Fuck, fuck, you’re —” he gasps but doesn’t finish, holding onto nothing as he empties himself all over your face. “Fuck.”

He feels dizzy, the orgasm still shaking him up, but then he looks at you and has to bite back a moan. The white strings of cum are covering your blissed face, your eyelashes are clumped together by the tears, and your lips are plump and darker, he knows he doesn’t want to forget what you look like right now. “Smile one last time, baby.” 

And you do, the corners of your mouth lift and then you hear the click of the polaroid. You think for a second you should’ve told him to don’t take them, he could easily blackmail you, or straight-up get you fired, but once again, you don’t truly care, and you don’t deny how much the idea of those photos turned you on.

You should get up, grab your pants, jacket, shoes and leave. But you feel heavy and tired, you’re still shaking, and your breath didn’t go back to normal, yet. 

“Don’t worry, detective,” Ghostface whispers, something passes on your face to clean you from the mess, but you don’t know what, and only then you open them ajar, just to see he’s still wearing his mask. “I’ll take care of you.” 

The Ghostface mask is the last thing you see. 

When you wake up, you’re in your bed, wearing your nightwear, completely cleaned up, but your bones and muscles are still sore, and a terrible headache is throbbing in the left side of your brain. You turn around, rubbing your eyelids with your palms before you can fully focus on the pillow and see three things on it. The Ghostface mask, a polaroid of you two from before, his face next to yours as he pulled your hair, and a note. 

“It was a pleasure playing with you, my pretty detective. Can’t wait to see what our next game will be like♡ ” 

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[realexotrash]

daydreaming (m) – s.jn

pairing: aged up!johnny seo x highschool senior!reader

summary: “you do realize i’m nearly twice your age, right?” he says, placing his hands low on his hips. he sighs. you take your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“… yes.”

word count: 10k (oops)

warnings: large age gap, dilf johnny, smut!!!! lmk if there's anything else i should add

a/n: it's back!! sorry for the wait, ik this one's the one u guys were waiting for. i'm reuploading old works!

“what do you wanna work on?” donghyuck, your groupmate, asks. you don’t know him very well, only that he’s a friend of a friend of a friend and is one of the thirteen other people that live on your street. you only switched to english literature at the start of the term (and only moved to this neighborhood at the start of the year), and the first time you’d seen his face was when he performed at the school-wide christmas showcase this year.

“hm?” you ask. “i don’t know, i’m fine with anything.”

donghyuck ponders to himself. he bounces his leg and it vibrates the table you’re both seated at. “well, it’s our final long-term project. it’s gotta be easy but only enough that it still seems like we made use of the month we’re given. we could just do a video report on hamlet. we don’t even have to voice it, we just have to compile information and put it in a worded video. sound okay?”

you nod. “yeah. like i said, i’m fine with anything.”

“cool,” donghyuck smiles. “listen, it’s really cool that we’re paired together. jeno says that renjun says you’re a good student, so I knew that I was fine when ms. kim called out our names.”

you smile back. he reminds you of a personified ball of sunshine. “thanks, donghyuck. i can’t wait to work with you too.”

“so, uh, d’you wanna meet at my house this saturday around, say, twelve? to work on the project?” he asks, still smiling. “it’s just me and my dad at home, so don’t worry about annoying siblings.”

you shrug, then nod. “sure, i’d love to.”

“alright! i’ll get your number during dismissal. i have chem now, so see you then,” he waves as the bell rings. he picks up his books and his bag, slings it over his shoulder, and walks out of the classroom, not before giving you one last cheery grin.

donghyuck’s house turns out to be three houses down from the house across from yours. the door is a sweet baby blue, which contrasts with the rest of the stark-white suburban-style home. it’s different from the rest of the houses on your street. it was built more recently, compared to your own which had stood the test of time and housed many families for nearly 5 decades. it’s simple yet modern. whoever built it had taste.

there’s a small row of potters with plants on spikes. cherry tomatoes, basil. the grass in the front lawn is freshly cut. there’s the sound of flowing water coming from the backyard.

“my dad’s gonna be home from work soon, he just picked up some things from the grocery. we can settle in and just chill and stuff before he comes back and starts cooking lunch,” donghyuck says as he opens the front door and holds it for you while he kicks his sneakers off and leaves them on the shoe rack. 

you do the same, neatly placing your shoes on the top rack. you note the leather work shoes and size eleven sneakers, and the space between them that you decide to place your own shoes in.

“nice place,” you say, taking note of the home-y atmosphere and well decorated walls. most of the images framed and hung up are of solely donghyuck and his father, from what you can see from where you stand.

“thanks! my dad takes a lot of pride in making the place look nice. he built it, y’know?” he smiles. 

“really?” you ask. 

“yeah! well, not, like, with his bare hands or anything. he’s an architect.” he responds.

you’re greeted by a staircase that leads to the upstairs, a living room to the right, a dining room through an opening to the left, and what you presume to be the kitchen connecting both rooms at the back. you catch a glimpse of a pool out the backyard.  

donghyuck leads you up the staircase, and down a hallway. 

“that’s the bathroom,” he points to one door, “that’s my dad’s room,” he points to the door diagonal to the bathroom, “that’s his office,” he points to the next door, “and mine’s that door at the end.”

you nod, taking in what he tells you as you make your way down the hall. 

donghyuck’s room is soft and simple. the walls are painted a dusty lavender and posters of artists are tacked to the wall. a bulletin board rests on the wall adjacent to his desk, scattered with notes, movie tickets, and pictures of his friends. from what you’ve gathered he’s quite friendly, so it’s unsurprising to you that he’s amassed such a large group of friends of his own. you quickly settle in, sitting comfortably on the floor by donghyuck’s desk, soft music playing from his speakers as you discuss characters and plotlines. 

donghyuck is nice. he’s relatively easy to talk to, nor is he boring in any sort of way. every time he opens his mouth a mischievous glint shines in his eyes. he’s fun. a kind of friend you’d want around.

you spend the first few minutes of your time in his room talking, getting to know each other. the tension of being in a new friend’s home is eased when donghyuck starts talking about video games he likes, music he listens to, and the people he’s grown up with. your friends renjun and jaemin being two of them.

in return, you share your life before moving into town. old boyfriends, your old cat who ran away, even pulling out your phone to show him pictures of friends you’re still in touch with. you tell him about your mother’s job, which brought you into town in the first place, and about the things you like doing. you pass a compliment to him on his holiday showcase performance, which he blushes at but proudly accepts anyway.

donghyuck lowers the volume when he hears the sound of a car entering his driveway.

“oh, that should be my dad. wanna come down with me to help him?” donghyuck asks, setting his laptop down next to him and standing up. “oh, and so i can introduce you. he’s really nice, don’t worry.”

you nod. you don’t know much of donghyuck and his family, but your friends — mainly renjun — tell you that his father’s a nice person. and with the way donghyuck’s been treating you, it’s clear he’d passed that trait down to his son.

donghyuck waits for you to get up and makes his way down the hall, letting you trail behind him. 

he hops down the staircase and slips on a pair of house slippers, the action natural to him.

“dad?” he says, opening the front door. 

on the other side stands a tall man, towering a decent six foot-one at least. “hey, kiddo,” the man says, moving his suitcase to his other hand (which holds a bag from the grocery store) to ruffle at your classmate’s hair. 

“dad, this is (y/n). she’s my groupmate for the english project? (y/n), this is my dad.” donghyuck says as he opens the door wider and takes his father’s grocery bag, letting the taller man enter. 

donghyuck must take after his mother’s physical appearance, is all you can think to yourself as his father places his suitcase down against the armrest of the living room couch—and you’re probably right—because donghyuck’s father is nothing like you imagined him. he’s tall. much taller than you expected. his hair is dark brown, except for the grey strands of hair that grow from his temples. his features are sharp, his eyes are piercing despite the tired circles that show on his eyelids. his eyebrows are straight-angled—and his lips, dear god, his lips are the shade of primrose, perfectly plump with defined corners that make them look so—god, you cringe as the thought comes to you but—kissable! you note how especially well-built the elder man is, as well as the fact that he’s probably pushing forty and you shouldn’t be feeling this way about a man nearly twice your age, yet you’re starstruck and flustered where you stand.

he adjusts the collar of his button-down cloth shirt (which is, to your convenience, rolled up to his elbows) and turns to you and smiles, extending a hand. “hi,” he says. warmth runs up your cheeks. “donghyuck’s told me about you. he’s always excited to have someone here, since it’s usually just me and him at home. it’s nice to meet you. i’m johnny. or mr. seo, if you want to keep it formal.” 

god, you think to yourself. of all the people in the world to be attracted to —

“it’s a pleasure to meet you, too, mr seo.”

— it had to be your classmate’s fucking dad. 

he lets go of your hand and you watch has he tucks both into the pockets of his slacks. 

“d’you guys wanna keep working or d’you want to keep me company while i cook lunch?” he asks. “we’d have to get the groceries first, though. hyuckie?” he turns to his son. 

“yeah, yeah,” donghyuck waves, opening the door and walking over to his dad’s car. “don’t call me hyuckie in front of my friends.” he’s bashful when he says it. 

mr. seo scoffs and watches his son as he opens the car’s trunk and begins picking up bags of groceries. he turns to you, and raises a brow. “wanna come to the kitchen?”

his voice is richer than pure honey. he smiles like an old hollywood movie star. he’s a good father. he’s polite. 

jesus, take the wheel.

donghyuck’s dynamic with his father is sweet. it’s just hard not to see past that when donghyuck’s father is as godly as he seems to you. he’s now chopping away at some vegetables on a cutting board while he and his son exchange in conversation about donghyuck’s childhood. 

they tell you about their lives so far, and you give them as much as you can muster.

mr. seo is 38 years old. he works at an architecture firm, building houses around the city. he’s raised donghyuck for all his life, as donghyuck’s mother passed away shortly after childbirth. 

“don’t worry about it. it’s been, what, eighteen years?” mr. seo reassures with a kind nod after seeing your mood dampen at the mention of what had happened.

“yeah,” donghyuck agrees. “dad’s getting kind of emotional ‘cause i’ve sent out my college applications,” he adds, a teasing grin on his face.

mr. seo shakes his head and huffs. “what, me? emotional? no way, kiddo. i could never,” he feigns. “so,” he turns to you and your attention sharpens as his eyes meet yours, changing the subject. “how old are you now?”

he leaves the pan of sizzling vegetables to open the fridge. you’ve never struggled more to tell someone your age.

“u-uh, i just turned eighteen,” you manage, taking in a deep breath in hopes that donghyuck doesn’t realize you’re blushing. “a couple months ago.”

“good,” he says, pulling out three beers. “do you drink?”

you stammer. it’s the longest he’s maintained eye contact and you honestly don’t know if you can stay upright any longer.

“c’mon, don’t be scared, i’ve raised this kid,” he points to donghyuck, “for eighteen years, don’t think i haven’t learned how to live a little. his friends come and drink all the time. you don’t have to be scared about me fessing up to your parents or anything. i don’t tell what people don’t want me to tell.”

“thank you, but, u-um, i’ll just have water, please.”

“responsible,” he notes, returning one beer can into the fridge. “you sure you don’t want anything else to drink?”

“uh, yes, sir,” you say once more, and mr. seo concedes. 

“alright,” he smile and brings his focus back to the pan on the stove. “just let me know if you need anything.” he turns the heat off and starts to plate whatever he’s cooked, and all you do is stare on at his tall figure. you swear, for a split second, that he makes eye contact with you and gives you a small, inconspicuous smile, but then quickly averts his gaze. your cheeks burn up even more, your heart is practically pounding, and to top it off, you’ve never been more aroused in your life — by a thirty eight year old man, at that. 

he could quite literally be the death of you, you’re sure if it.

your lunch continues in the same fashion. stories of donghyuck’s childhood, followed by banter and laughter. after lunch, you and donghyuck return to his room to work on the project. it’s only hours later that you realize how much time truly passes. 

“hey, donghyuck, i should get going. my mom told me to be home by five. it’s four-fifty,” you sigh as you shut your phone.

donghyuck looks up at you from his laptop. “oh, sure, yeah,” he says, shutting his laptop and setting it on the foot of his bed. “d’you want me to walk you out?”

“oh, no, it’s okay, i got it,” you smile. “thanks for inviting me. just text me if you need anything, yeah?”

“you got it,” he smiles back.

“thanks, i really appreciate your hospitality.” you say as you step out of the room.

“it’s no problem. see you in school!” he gives as a final wave.

“see you!” you say as you shut his door, gripping your laptop and your bag tightly in your hands. 

the first thing you notice is that the door to mr. seo’s office is left open, wide enough for you to see that he’s inside, working. he’s sketching away at some blueprint, clearly immersed in his work. 

it’s wrong, you tell yourself. you shouldn’t be feeling this way.

“mr. seo?”you mutter meekly, like a mouse, as you peer round the corner

“hmm?” he hums, turning his head to face you. “oh! (y/n). leaving already?” 

your heartbeat quickens.

“yeah,” you laugh nervously. “just came to say goodbye. and thanks.”

he stands, something you don’t expect, and walks over to you. god, he’s so tall. he smiles—just enough where it’s only the corners of his lips that lift themselves. he’s still in the clothes he was wearing when he arrived. he stops just a few feet in front of you. closer, closer, closer—

“you’re very welcome,” he says. his voice is deep after probable hours of not being used. one of his hands is in one front pocket of his slacks, the other runs through his dark brown hair, showing the wisps of grey that hide under his darker layers.

you let go of your bottom lip the second you realize you’ve had it between your teeth since he stood up. 

“donghyuck told me that it’s a long-term project, so please, feel welcome to come over any time. he appreciates any sort of company,” he says, nodding. “so do i.”

“i’ll be back, mr. seo. you’re fun company to be around.” you choke a little at the connotation your words might have. “both you and donghyuck,” you add quickly enough for it to not sound awkward.

mr. seo doesn’t seem to notice your slip-up. thank god. “good, that’s good,” he smiles. the thought seems to linger in his head, as he catches his own eyes wandering over your figure for a moment too long.

“anyway, i’ll let you go, now,” mr. seo continues abruptly. it seems as though he’s shaking himself out of some day dream, and he begins to pace back to his seat behind his desk. “i’ll see you soon, (y/n).”

“see you soon, mr. seo,” you wave, shutting the door. 

you redirect yourself and take in a sharp breath. you open your phone’s messaging app and immediately open your last opened chatroom as you hastily slip your shoes onto your feet. you start typing and hit send as quickly as you can, making your way up the street.

you:

rrnjun, jaem, u won’t fuckibg believe the afternopn ive had!!!1111!!

“mr. seo?!” one of your friends’ voices rings through your ears from the speakers of your laptop. “you and everyone else, dude.”

“what do you mean?” you sit up, looking renjun in the face, which he cups with his palms. you wrap your comforter closer around you. 

“i can’t believe you never knew. everyone knows donghyuck’s dad is the hottest shit, (y/n). and hyuck’s completely oblivious to everyone’s obvious attraction to his father.” jaemin’s face comes closer to the camera, right next to the box that shows renjun’s face. you scoff. as if it’s information you were supposed to know. 

“as if that’s information i was supposed to know, jaem,” you sigh. “he’s just—“

“really fucking hot, according to everybody,” renjun huffs, holding the mic of his earphones against his mouth. you and jaemin wince at the distortion of sound. “we know.”

“it’s just — weird. i’ve literally never felt any sort of attraction for anybody more than ten years my senior, and now,” you gesture vaguely to the air with your hands. “this?”

“it’s fine, everyone goes through some phase where they have a complete shift in their type. i think.”  jaemin mumbles. “besides, this is really fine for you, ‘cause since he’s older, you won’t really feel pressured to get him to like you back. it’d be kind of absurd if he liked you back, ‘cause he’s, y’know, thirty eight.”

“yeah,” you reply blankly. “i don’t think i could go back to that house, guys.”

“if i were you, i wouldn’t, but you have to, or else you’d have to come up with excuses to tell donghyuck,” jaemin shrugs. he’s suddenly found a pack of gummy bears to munch on.

you nibble on your bottom lip in thought. you then let out a frustrated groan. “i can’t stop thinking about him.”

“ew,” renjun fake-gags. “let’s keep the horny-for-my-friend’s-dad-level at a zero when we’re talking to jaemin and renjun.”

“sorry, sorry,” you laugh. “i just can’t. it’s such a weird feeling. and it’s sad, he’s right there but i can’t go for him because it’d be such a big… problem.”

the conversation comes to a lull. jaemin picks up his phone after getting a notification and his eyes widen at whatever it is he’s seen.

“what?” you ask, attempting to snap him from his daze.

“your parents are going to visit your grandparents over the summer, right? when?”he asks instead of answers, a smile threatening to spread across his face.

“second week of june ‘till, like, the twenty ninth,” you reply. “why?”

jaemin pulls out his phone. “donghyuck just texted me. the senior dance team’s trip to LA for that dance workshop — as, like, a last ‘thing’ together as a club — is gonna be from the thirteenth to the twenty eighth of june.”

you ponder for a moment. “okay… and?”

renjun gasps. “dude! for two weeks, you’ll be alone — without parents — or supervision,” he says, making hand gestures in the air in attempts to make you understand better. “and—“

“for two weeks, mr. seo’ll be home alone,” you add, you jaw nearly dropping. “without donghyuck — and any other responsibilities besides his own.”

renjun smiles mischievously. “for two weeks, you literally have a chance to make mr. seo’s only priority be you.” 

you smile back with a huff. you hear jaemin exclaim and laugh loudly in excitement. “this is so wrong, guys,” you laugh, throwing yourself backwards on your bed and covering your face with one of your pillows.

“you said it yourself,” jaemin shrugs. “you’re eighteen. the only thing wrong about it is that you’re going to be trying to fuck your classmate’s dad for a month ‘till your parents leave. but your classmate nor your parents have to know. i’ll keep donghyuck as distracted as possible if you need me to.”

you remember what mr. seo told you earlier. “you don’t have to be scared about me fessing up to your parents or anything. i don’t tell what people don’t want me to tell.”

you hope that—good or bad the outcome—mr. seo is a man of his word. 

you unlock your phone, immediately opening your messaging app.

send to: donghyuck seo

hey, donghyuck! could i come by your place next week to work on the project again?

you and donghyuck grow close with the passage of time. you feel guilty that it’s partially to get to his dad, but he’s starting to become friendlier and more comfortable with you. 

you start visiting twice a week, often times not to do work (you do plenty during actual english literature periods) but just to spend time with them and donghyuck’s friends. 

you try your best to act indifferent to mr. seo, like you don’t care, but you always catch yourself staring far too often at his lips, or his arms, or his — or him. you’re sure he’s caught your drift at this point, too. it’s a strange “middle”, where you’re constantly seeking his presence and his company, and he’s constantly switching in and out of a state where he’s either active around the house with you and donghyuck’s friends or he’s locked up in his office all day. he might be staying away for your own safety, he probably realizes that you’re into him and doesn’t want to get you into trouble. when he comes down to say hello, often times he looks at you for a moment too long, just enough for you to notice but not for others to find it strange. 

you don’t speak to him much - in fact, the only conversation you’ve had was on the first day you met him. 

the looks you send him from across the living room; or the glances you share over the dining table — where you look up from your plate to meet his gaze, and all he does is look back momentarily, only to look to the side or at his own food, then clench his jaw and take a deep breath through his nose; should be evident of his knowledge of your infatuation towards him — and are often times enough to send bubbling heat straight to your core. 

you learn over time that he’s just so effortlessly attractive. the way he carries himself is enough to make you lose your mind. oftentimes you don’t even have to go to donghyuck’s house to see him, you see him watering the front lawn garden from your bedroom window, and as the weather warms, he starts wearing tank tops, or white tees with  his blue swimming trunks. it’s difficult to leave the house without the image of mr. seo’s toned arms or his tanned skin or his deepened voice being the only presence clouding your mind.

it gets to a point that getting him to notice your quick glances or the changes in your body language is a goal. you don’t understand where the newfound confidence comes from, but you find yourself openly gazing over him more, you let your touches linger on his skin, in hopes that he takes notice. 

it’s one night, nearly two weeks after you and donghyuck have finished your project and a day before your graduation, things escalate into something more tense.

donghyuck invites you to his house for a pre-graduation get together with his other friends, and you go, staying ‘till around eleven-thirty in the evening. 

“this has been fun, but i’ve got to get going. i still have to get ready tomorrow and i have stuff to prepare tonight,” you sigh, getting up on your feet.

the five boys seated on the floor groan and pout. 

“donghyuck just said we’d be playing uno!” yangyang whines, holding up his deck of uno playing cards. 

“bet you’re just scared to lose, you suck at uno,” renjun teases as he holds a pillow to his chest. 

you scoff. “jeno sucks at uno, probably more than me. if i had the choice to stay, i would, just to beat this motherfucker,” you say as you roughly ruffle jeno’s hair. he makes a sound of discomfort.

“let’s play overwatch, see how it feels,” he mutters under his breath with an over-exaggerated scowl.

“just let me go, my mom’s gonna get mad at me if i get home late,” you whine. “i have to go!”

“let her go, jesus,” jaemin laughs. “see you tomorrow, hot stuff,” he jokes with a wave. you roll your eyes and say goodbye, grabbing your phone and your bag as you exit donghyuck’s room. 

it’s halfway through your walk down the hall that you notice that mr. seo is in his office again. you take slow steps, and you don’t know if it’s to see if he catches a glimpse of you or if it’s to stay as quiet as possible so as not to be noticed by him.

you pass the doorframe to his office and you think you’re in the clear, you’re just about to begin climbing down the staircase when—

“(y/n).”

shit. 

you quickly pace back to the door to mr. seo’s office and open it slightly, letting your head and your upper torso peek into the room.

“oh, um, good evening, mr. seo,” you say. you hope you aren’t overdoing it with the innocent tone. “i was just about to lea—“

“i wanted to talk to you,” he says, leaning back in his desk chair and interlocking his fingers in front of him. he presses his thumbs underneath his chin before pushing himself onto his feet. “come in.”

you can’t seem to calm your heart whenever you’re around him. it pounds in your chest harder than ever before, you can feel it in your ears. your hands get clammy and you feel heat rising to your face, and the ever-prevalent bubbling in your stomach finds its way back to you. you step inside at a slow pace. you make sure to shut the door behind you. you can still hear donghyuck and his friends shouting and laughing from here. 

mr. seo now dons a blue sweater tucked into black jeans. it’s the first time you’ve seen him the whole day. he looks down at the rolex on his wrist and pinches his nose bridge with his thumb and index finger.

“what is it, mr. seo?” you ask. you try your best to maintain composure.

mr. seo swallows and tilts his head in thought. “i know what you’re trying to do, (y/n).” oh god. “you don’t think i notice the way you look at me?”

you’re not quick to come up with an answer. you tuck loose strands of hair behind your ear. “m-mr. seo, i don’t—“

“you do realize i’m nearly twice your age, right?” he says, placing his hands low on his hips. he sighs. you take your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“… yes.”

he shuts his eyes tight and lets out a sharp breath. he runs the side of his hand over his brow bone and lets his arm fall to his side. “listen, (y/n), i’m sorry to turn you down, but i know — and — you must know that what you’re doing is inappropriate and frankly, wrong. i know that you’re young and there are only so many things that can run through your mind at this age, believe me,  i know firsthand. all i wanted to do at your age was — well, anything and everything, if you get me. i just don’t want the way you feel for me to get in the way of your friendship with donghyuck and the way you or i live our lives. i’m turning you down because if i let this continue, we’ll both be hurting ourselves. i’ll be hurting you especially. i’m sorry.”

“i bet you like it though.”

he pauses, confused. “pardon me?” 

did you just do that? 

his face goes stern, eyes piercing and his eyebrows only slightly raised. he purses his lips. 

“i bet you like it — the way i look at you,” you continue. there’s a shake in your voice but you hope it’s drowned out by the sudden wave of confidence that rushes over you. “you’re only turning me down ‘cause you know that it’s wrong, and you’re stuck — but you don’t hate it, because if you did, you would’ve told donghyuck that you were concerned and told me to leave the second you suspected something from me. you could’ve kicked me out, or told donghyuck you thought i was a bad influence or something. you could’ve. but you didn’t. you like it, don’t you, mr. seo?”

you have no idea how you could be so strongly confrontational. you fold your arms in front of your chest. you heartbeat has never gone faster, and you pray it calms itself before you faint, or something. mr. seo is silent. he faces away from you in subtle humiliation, suddenly finding interest in the various books placed on his shelf. he has his hands in his back pockets. he gives you no answer, but the silence is telling of what he hides from you.

“i have to go,” you say, already walking out of his office. “goodnight, johnny.”

mr. seo waits till you shut the door. he stays where he stands until he hears the front door open and close, marking your departure. 

he presses both his hands over his face in frustration as he sighs tiredly. he sits down roughly on his desk chair, letting his body fall onto it, propping his elbows on the surface of his desk as he threads his hands in his hair and tugs sharply. he knits his eyebrows and squeezes his eyes shut, letting out an exasperated groan. 

he lets go of his hair, now running his hands from his temples, flattening his hair with his palms. he pauses halfway across the crown of his head and opens his eyes, seeing only the image of you standing in front of him, the image of your hand on his arm, the image of you, in a way he’s been trying to suppress since he realized what you were trying to do to him. not her, not her, not her, is all he can run through his mind in a weak attempt to get you out of it. 

she’s donghyuck’s friend, she’s donghyuck’s friend, he repeats as he closes his eyes once more. the images of you grow more and more corrupted and perverted in his mind each and every time he shuts and opens his eyes. he sees you lifting your shirt off of yourself, he sees your legs spread, he sees — 

“fuck!” he loudly exclaims, slamming a fist against the hardwood of his desk and throwing himself against the backrest of his chair.  he takes deep breaths as he stares at the ceiling with glassy eyes.

“god,” he sighs. “of all the people to be attracted to—”

he hears laughter come from donghyuck’s room, a reminder for him to stay quiet. 

— it had to be you. 

mr. seo avoids you throughout the entire graduation, only going to exchange congratulations with your parents. he avoids you all throughout the graduation dinner hosted at a nearby restaurant, eyes averted and body tense whenever you’re brought up or whenever you contribute to the conversation. 

two weeks pass, and it’s the day donghyuck and jaemin are to leave for los angeles. you, your parents, and few others on your street surround the seo’s driveway as donghyuck, jaemin, and a few more of their friends gather around a van that’s supposed to take them to the airport.

“i’ll miss you!” you say, pulling both jaemin and donghyuck in for a hug. “don’t forget to text me, or yangyang, or jeno, or renjun, okay?”

jaemin smiles. “you got it.”

“bring me something from universal studios, too,” you add, and donghyuck nods. 

you hug them both tightly one last time. jaemin, ever-affectionate and not afraid to show it, presses a rather aggressive kiss to your cheek. “see you in two weeks, hot stuff,” he says, rather loudly, making a few parents raise their eyebrows, mr. seo being one of the parents in that group.

you catch him in the corner of your eye. his eyebrow is raised and his eyes are squinted only slightly. you smile at his attempt to hide his… jealousy?

“calm down, ma, i call everyone names like that,” jaemin rolls his eyes as he goes to hug his parents. 

donghyuck laughs and lets go of you to hug his father. he practically slams into his chest, wrapping his arms around mr. seo’s torso. 

“bye, dad,” he smiles. mr. seo laughs softly and brings his hand to the back of his son’s head.

“bye, kiddo. be safe,” mr. seo says as he gently pinches at donghyuck’s cheek. 

donghyuck pokes mr. seo’s cheek. “you too, dad.”

mr. seo moves donghyuck’s hand from his cheek with a soft chuckle. “go on, you have to go.”

donghyuck smiles as he pulls away, climbing into the van. “love you, dad!” he shouts from inside.

“love you, hyuckie!” mr. seo shouts, his hands cupped around his mouth.

the van drives off once donghyuck and his dance club settle properly, and people begin dispersing. 

“safe travels for your kid, john,” your parents say after giving the same greeting to jaemin’s parents. “we’ve got to go and finish packing our own bags, so we’ll be heading in now. our flight’s at six in the morning.”

mr. seo’s eyes seem to light up. “oh? where are you three headed?”

“oh, no, just the two of us,” your mom gestures to herself and your father. “we have to visit my parents and siblings, and since (y/n)’s gotta start getting used to living on her own soon, we thought that she could start learning now. she’s got the hang of it, right honey?”

your mom excitedly squeezes your cheek. “yeah, mom,” you say with a forced laugh. 

“and, anyways, if you’re ever bored, i guess mr. seo would be, too!” your mother smiles. “john, you wouldn’t mind if (y/n) spent some time with you some days while we’re gone, right? well, it’s alright if she can’t, but—“

“no, i don’t mind at all,” mr. seo interjects. “well, i always say that anyone’s welcome in my place, and (y/n) is no exception.”

“oh, wonderful! i was so scared that she’d be all alone for the next too weeks,” your mother says. a pause. “well! we’ve got to get going now. thank you, so much, john.”

mr. seo looks lost in thought as he nods. “ah, well,” he mutters. “it’s no problem. and safe travels to you, too.”

“aw, thank you! always such a nice man,” your mom says. 

mr. seo waves as your parents both say their goodbyes. 

“say goodbye to mr. seo,” your father says. 

you bite your bottom lip and let out a breath through your nose.

“goodbye, mr. seo,” you say, with half a smile and the same amount of a wave. 

you look across the street once you reach the front porch of your own home. you lock eyes with mr. seo, and it’s only then that he decides to enter his home once more.

tomorrow. you tell yourself. you’ll talk to him tomorrow.

it’s been several hours, maybe six, since your parents left, and only now does the summer heat creep up on you dangerously fast. 

it’s either that or the thought of going to mr. seo’s house sometime in the day to talk to him is getting to you.

you fold up the piece of paper with a groan and toss it onto your side desk. 

“i can’t,” you say as you press the heels of your palms over your closed eyes. “this is wrong.”

whatever spirit inside of you that convinced you to try and seduce the father of your classmate seems to have diminished completely. 

you let out another frustrated groan. you have to apologize, is all you think to yourself. no matter how you feel, you have to apologize. you have to stop.

you set yourself upright and huff, hurriedly slipping your feet into your flip flops. you check yourself in the mirror to make sure you don’t look that much of a mess. you’re sure workout shorts and a thin cropped tee would work out fine for you. you’ve worn things like this a bunch of times when visiting donghyuck.

you shrug and make your way out and down the street.

your heart’s beating so fast, you swear you could throw up, but the front door opens too quickly to a white t-shirt and swim trunks-clad mr. seo for you to do anything of the sort.

he looks just as shocked as you are, though you don’t know what you’re expecting. 

it’s mr. seo.

he lives here. 

“(y/n),” he says as he straightens his posture. “what’s — what are you doing here?”

you fumble with your hands and nibble on your bottom lip, suddenly losing any and all confidence. god, how could his mere presence make you feel so… so vulnerable? 

“mr. seo,” you begin, struggling to look him in the eyes. “mr. seo, i’m sorry. for that night. i have no excuses, and i honestly have no idea why i said what i said, but i guess my mind jumped to the conclusion that that was the best way i was to handle how i felt about you. clearly, it wasn’t. and i’m sorry if i said things that were too forward, or if i hurt you or made you feel uncomfortable around me. i’m… i hate using this as an excuse, but i’m still young. i hope you understand that i’m still learning how to handle things and do things correctly and that night was just a slip-up. i do like you, mr. seo, a lot, but i shouldn’t have done what i did that night.”

mr. seo’s face changes — his brows dip down and his lips purse. his eyes are full of sympathy. “do you want to come inside? it’s pretty warm out.”

you step inside and leave your flip-flops by the shoerack.

“could we just leave it in the past? forget about it and stuff?” you ask point-blank to continue the conversation. your cheeks burn up.

mr. seo doesn’t reply for a moment, instead gets lost in thought, his eyes distant and wandering. he leads you into the kitchen and starts pouring two glasses of water.

“are you sure you want to do that?” he finally says. your ears perk up and your eyes widen.

is this seriously happening? is all you can ask yourself. “what do you mean? you’re donghyuck’s dad, and i’m his classmate — no matter what, mr. seo, like you said it’s… i mean, it’s wrong.”

“i realize that, (y/n) — but, i’ve gone the last three weeks or so spending most of my time thinking about you. you’ve been all that’s on my goddamn mind. i never said anything that night because i wasn’t even sure about how i felt for you, especially since you’re my son’s friend, but these past weeks have made it clear. i want you.” 

it’s all so unbearably hot, both literally and figuratively — the afternoon sun drowns the kitchen  in warmth and your cheeks are redder than they ever could be. your heartbeat quickens and your breath hitches as mr. seo brings his hand to cup your jaw. he leans forward, closer to you. you’re leaning against the kitchen counter, clutching the edge of it. your heart rate increases rapidly, and you suck in a deep breath in through your nose. he’s so close, he’s so close, he’s so goddamn cl—

“do you want me, too?” he says under his breath.

“mr. seo—“

your voice is interrupted by the feeling of mr. seo’s lips finally pressing against yours and you feel something rising in the pit of your stomach as return his actions, the feeling of his lips against yours and the warmth of his body pressing against you like heaven — it’s something you’ve only ever dreamed of. it’s too short of a moment, however. mr. seo pulls away before you let the kiss deepen. his face is still inches from yours, and he smiles as he watches you subconsciously chase his lips when he leans away from you. 

“was that okay?” he asks softly, leaning away and pulling his hands from you to let you know you still had a chance to say no. 

you don’t let another moment pass as you bring yourself to your tip-toes, kissing him again. his hands find your waist and yours find the sides of his neck, weeks of want and desire evident in the way you both pull each other closer. 

mr. seo gently squeezes the flesh at your waist and you arch into his touch, and all you can feel is him. the way he presses against you, the way you’re kissing each other like it’s all you’ve wanted all your lives, the feeling of his lips, his body, it’s all so much better than you could’ve fantasized. it’s when his hand travels down the curve of your ass that you moan into the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip inside your mouth. it’s wet, and warm, and you’re practically intoxicated by the sensation. you pull him closer, relishing in the feeling of your bodies pressed so closely together. 

the whole situation is so absurd, you’re sure it’s the plot of many a crude porno. 

you pull away, taking a deep breath in the process. he looks down at you, his tall frame encapsulating your smaller one. his hands settle against the surface of the counter, leaving you in the space between them.

“m-mr. seo—“

“christ, let’s drop that. we’re here already, just call me johnny, alright?” he laughs, having begun mouthing at the skin of your jaw and upper neck, pulling you closer, his hands tugging at your hips. 

“j-johnny,” you respond, the sound of his first name leaving your lips still unfamiliar to you. 

“mm?” he hums against your neck, his thumbs rubbing circles against your hips. the feeling of his lips on your skin is so new and strange, but every second he spends attached to your neck or your jaw sends butterflies straight to your core. 

“c-could we go upstairs? t-to your room?” you ask, whispering.

johnny pulls back, and without a word, takes your hand and begins leading you upstairs. 

it’s strangely empty, you’re used to having at least one room upstairs be booming with music and laughter. 

johnny leads you into his bedroom, and shuts the door. his eyes are blown, lust dripping from them like blood from an open wound. it’s when he presses against you that you realize he’s half hard, but you’re not given enough time to process anything, since he’s already pulling you in for another kiss, this one being much more passionate and driven by want than any of the previous ones. 

he spends time sucking hickeys onto whatever exposed skin is available to him, making sure that he doesn’t move to a different place on your neck unless the red marks of a blooming bruise appear on your skin. 

it’s while you’re kissing that he lowers you onto the bed, your back pressed against the mattress and johnny’s chest pressed against yours. he focuses on peppering your neck and collarbone with kisses once more, simultaneously bringing his hands to the hem of your shirt lifting it up halfway to expose your chest. he lets out a low groan at the sight of your bare torso, and you prop yourself up to let him lift the shirt off of you completely. he tosses it backwards, wherever it lands unimportant to you. 

“god, baby, you’re perfect,” he says, pressing you down into the mattress once more and leading his kisses to the peak of one of your breasts, enclosing his lips around the nipple and swirling his tongue over it, his free hand moving to massage your other breast, thumb flicking at your nipple, making you whine out his name. your back arches, pushing your chest further against his lips. you feel like you’re in ecstasy, johnny’s so unbelievably good, you can’t believe he’s real. 

he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your swollen nipple, moving to suck on your other breast, the amount of wetness that drips out of your pussy and onto the cloth of your underwear being embarrassing. your cheeks redden once you feel it against your thigh. 

he pulls back again, to strip himself of his white t-shirt, and you whine at the loss of warmth as cool air fans over your exposed tits. 

the feeling of absence is short-lived, however, as the feeling of pure arousal that rushes through you when your eyes meet johnny’s bare torso trumps it.

you wish you were given a warning on his six-pack beforehand.

he smiles rather confidently when he notices your slack-jawed expression and immediately brings himself back to hovering over your exposed upper body.

his hands first go to your hips, to tug the garter of your shorts down. you bend your legs, letting johnny take your shorts off of you. 

you jerk when the tips of his index and ring finger brush over the soaked cloth of your underwear. embarrassing. you rub your thighs together instinctually, shutting your eyes. 

“cute,” he smiles as his palms push against your knees, spreading your legs open.

you whine when his fingers return to circling the spot where you’re most sensitive, his touch torturously light.

“you’re so wet, baby,” he muses under his breath. his eyes are still locked on yours. 

the movement of his fingers over the cloth of your underwear is slow, painfully so, and it’s driving you crazy—everything spins, you can’t take your focus off of the feeling of his fingers brushing over your clit, and the more you think about it, the more the sensation intensifies. 

“johnny, johnny, p-please,” you whine, arching your back. “s-stop teasing.”

“’s too fun, princess,” he says, and you involuntarily let out a high pitched whimper at the pet name. 

“johnny,” you drawl, bringing your hands to cover your eyes. 

“patient, baby,” he hums, caressing your inner thighs in an effort to get you to spread your legs further.

you lift your hips as he strips you of your underwear, the last piece of clothing keeping you from being completely vulnerable in johnny’s presence. 

“gonna finger you, princess,” he says lowly, his thumb circling against the skin of your inner thigh. “god, you’re so fucking pretty.”

you don’t register his index finger being inserted into your hole, instead feeling a sudden rush of heat throughout your body when he begins to pump in and out, curving the single digit inside of you. 

you let out a moan at the sudden insertion, involuntarily bucking your hips up to chase his movements. his free hand comes to squeeze at your waist and pull you towards him and down against the mattress. you let out a whine at the feeling of being manhandled, subsequently letting out a fucked-out half-voluntary, half-involuntary “daddy,” just as johnny inserts a second finger, increasing the pace.

“fuck, baby, don’t do that to me,” he huffs out, a low groan escaping his lips as you do nothing but whine and whimper and moan under him. “gonna make me lose it.”

“daddy,” you say again, this time in a shaky, breathy whine as the pace he’s set his fingers to increases.

he smiles, clenches his jaw, as if to say i can’t believe you. “i’m going to ruin you,” he mutters, in a tone so sternly calm that it’s hard to believe he’s fucking you with his fingers—only two, mind you—at a pace that’s sure to drive you insane. “daddy’s gonna ruin you, princess.”

you realize you’re close as a third finger is added, the sound of his digits pumping in and out of you are so lewd and pornographic that you can’t believe they’re sounds you’re making. 

your moans and whines reach a point where they’re high-pitched and hiccupy, and the feeling of your orgasm building up is more evident than ever. 

“j-jo—daddy, daddy, m’ gonna—gonna come,” you ramble, your hips bucking and raising themselves to fuck yourself onto his fingers as best as you can. “shit, i’m gonna—“

“—come? gonna come just on my fingers, baby?” johnny goads, his curved digits pumping relentlessly inside your pussy. “fuck, come on, princess. come for me.”

with his words, the cord inside you snaps, and you let out a loud moan, slowing the movement of your hips. your orgasm washes over you hard, the feeling of johnny’s fingers inside of you becoming so much more intense. by the time johnny pulls his fingers out of you, you’ve turned into a shaking, overstimulated, post-orgasm mess—and you’re left wanting more, so much more. 

“so good for me,” johnny says, sucking your come from his fingers—an action that would’ve grossed you out if it were done by anyone other than him—then pressing kisses against the skin of your thighs. 

“daddy?” you say, your voice suddenly an octave higher. 

you feel your heart skip a beat when johnny tenses at the name, giving you only a hum in acknowledgment.

“i want to suck you off,” you say, point-blank. johnny looks as if he’s about to combust.

he chuckles—well, it’s more like a huff and a disbelieving smile—at your demand. “angel, how can i say no?”

he gets off the mattress, standing at the foot of the bed. you crawl over to the edge of the mattress, legs and thighs still shaky from the high of your previous orgasm. he’s so much taller than you at this angle, where he looks down at you and your kneeling body from where he stands. you face the evident bulge in his swimming trunks, and all you can think of is getting the annoying piece of cloth off of him.

he’s just about to pull his shorts down, but your index finger hooks under the waistband of his swim trunks a moment sooner. he sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth as he watches you tentatively strip him of the remaining piece of clothing. 

you tug the garment off of him completely, letting it pool at his ankles, and you’re too distracted by his cock to note that he’s kicked them off of him completely. 

jesus, fuck, does johnny’s cock exceed your expectations. it smacks his abdomen once his swimming trunks fall to his ankles, precome leaking down the back of it from the tip, which is flushed red. his cock is long and thick, you don’t know if you could fit more than half of it in your mouth.

he hisses at the cold air that meets his cock, bringing his hand to provide him with enough friction. 

you crawl backward slightly when he moves forward, resting on the edge of the mattress with his knees. 

“gonna suck my cock, princess?” he asks, snapping you out of your daze. he hums a “yeah?” when you nod and move forward, folding your legs and sitting on the heels of your feet, grabbing the bottom of his shaft—your hand unable to fully wrap around it.

you open your mouth, letting your tongue out, looking up at him as you let your saliva drip down onto the head of his cock. you take the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the tip. a hand tangles into your hair and johnny hisses then lets out a low groan. 

his cock is heavy and warm on your tongue, and all you want is more, more, more. 

you’re only able to take him a little past halfway down his cock, so you use your hands to take care of the remaining length. 

“ffffuck,” he hisses, running circles against your scalp with his thumb. “so good, baby.”

never in your life did you imagine you’d be sucking the cock of your classmate’s dad. ever.

tears well in your eyes, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat every so often, the weight and the foreign feeling of him in your mouth sending heat to bubble in your stomach—you moan, the vibrations at the back of your throat hitting the clit of johnny’s cock, and he lets out a deep groan, all that races in his mind is he’s gonna cum, he’s gonna cum—

johnny pulls you off of his cock with a gentle tug of your hair, just as he feels the knot in his abdomen tighten. you whine at the loss of the weight on your tongue, and he chuckles, saying, “shit, gotta fuck you, now, baby. ‘m a bit older than you, and i wanna make this count, okay? lie back, for me?” you do so. “good girl.”

you spread your legs involuntarily, and johnny leans over to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “stay put, alright?” he says. he walks over to his bedside table, pulling out a condom from the second drawer. 

he unwraps the foil packaging, and you watch as he rolls it down his cock. all you can do is squirm where you lay, suddenly unable to find the right words to say. 

“daddy,” you say as he steps between your legs, unable to contain your impatience. 

“you’re so pretty, baby. you gonna let me fuck you?” he says lowly, spreading your legs apart further. “gonna let me fill you up with my cock, hm? you want that?”

you whine and nod a pathetic “yes, daddy,” and you’re washed over with the feeling of vulnerability and humiliating exposure, the position of your body and the eagerness of your voice not helping your case whatsoever. “fill me up so good, all i feel is you.”

he lines up his cock with your entrance, and it’s just as full as you thought it’d feel, possibly even more so. the stretch, however, is new. it feels like his cock could split you in half. he’s so thick, you can feel every ridge and vein of his cock against your walls. the more he pushes into you, the more your moans intensify, the more your sensitivity increases, and it burns, frankly; but only temporarily, since by the time he bottoms out, all you feel is full. 

you’ve never felt filthier, with your legs folded up against your chest, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and mr. seo’s cock deep inside you. 

“you okay, princess?” johnny asks.

“s-so full,” you breathe out. “you’re so—so big.”

“yeah?” he asks as he slowly begins to thrust in and out.

“y-yeah,” you whimper, the feeling of his cock sending you into a frenzy. “s-so good.”

“yeah,” he repeats, increasing the pace. “you’re so tight, baby, you take my cock so fucking well.”

once he feels like you’re stretched enough, he thrusts back, nearly pulling out, and thrusts right back in, the sound of skin against skin resonating in your ears—as well as the loud moan that escapes your lips. 

his thrusts quicken, and you rotate your hips to further fuck yourself on his cock in time with his thrusts. the way he fucks you has you practically wailing at this point, johnny having your torso pressed at an angle to fuck you the way both of you want it—it has you gripping aimlessly at his biceps, his shoulder blades—it has you wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him close, it has you doing anything at this point to keep you from losing any remaining sense of reality.

his cock is so thick, so long, each thrust makes you cry out in pleasure. it feels—insanely good, so fucking much that it has you rambling strings of incoherent words in an effort to egg him on. he’s fulfilling your request—all you feel is his cock, his thrusts, his lips, his skin, his teeth, his hands, his body—the way he’s fucking you into oblivion has you feeling only one thing, and it’s johnny, johnny, johnny, johnny—

“such a pretty baby,” johnny mutters. “you want more?”

“yes, yes, fu-uck,” you hiccup. “h-harder, harder, fill me up m-more, i wa-ant your cock, want your cock—“

“want my—god, baby, you’re so cute when you beg,” he nearly whines for you, fucking into you faster, harder—you can only cry out in response. 

“feels so good, feels so fucking good,” you moan, johnny leaning in to bite at your neck. “daddy, more, more—“ 

you’re cut off when johnny leans away and sits up, still thrusting relentlessly into you, as he grabs hold of your hips, pulling you away and towards his cock in time with each thrust—you want more, johnny’s giving it to you.

“god, such a little slut—can’t get enough, huh?” johnny groans, and you’re pushed closer to the edge, the unexpected degradation sending you somewhere else. “’s that why you wanted to fuck me? hm? boys you were fucking just—shit—just weren’t enough?”

“no, t-they—they weren’t,” you cry, tears welling in your eyes out of pleasure. “o-only you.”

he growls a low, “that’s right,” before fucking into you harder, your moans cutting off in time with the way his skin slaps against yours.

“g-gonna come, gonna come, gonna come,” you whimper, your nails digging so hard into his shoulders you’d be surprised if you haven’t broken skin yet. “daddy.”

“wanna come? then come, baby. come all over daddy’s cock,” he groans, and brings his hands to rub and twist at your already swollen nipples.

the action sends you over the edge, and not even a moment passes until you find yourself coming for the second time tonight, johnny fucking into you through the high of orgasm.

it’s at this point where you’re practically jelly, and johnny grips your hips tightly like he’s done previously in order to chase his own orgasm, and he feels it coming close. 

you wail in the feeling of immense overstimulation—you feel, hear, and see only johnny, johnny, johnny, and it’s so painfully, torturously, good, the way his cock feels to your sensitive pussy, the way his thrusts make you putty in his hands—you can’t see yourself wanting to stop.

“gonna come, baby,” he says in a rough whisper, his thrusts growing more and more erratic. 

“daddy,” you whine between moans, the image of you all fucked out and dazed, your body sprawled under johnny sending him closer and closer to completion. 

“fuck,” he groans, and your hoarse voice moaning strings of daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, along with the erratic clenches of your walls around his cock finally, finally, bring him to snap his hips  up into you harshly once, his cock twitching inside of you, a low moan escaping his lips as he comes. he rocks into you slowly, fucking the both of you out of your aftershocks and the post-orgasm sensitivities. he peppers your skin with open mouthed, lazy kisses, along with whispers of good girl, so fucking good for me, you did so well.

he pulls out, tugs the condom off, ties it, and throws it into the trash. he leaves the room momentarily, whispering a soft “i’ll be back.” he returns with a damp towel and some wet wipes and sits next to you, wiping any mess on your face or between your legs. it’s a strange position, since you’re sitting up, leaning on his shoulder, as he cleans dried come from your skin, but it’s surprisingly comfortable. 

“you’re perfect,” he says, voice hoarse, his hands gently spreading your legs apart as he wipes away at your inner thighs. “fuck, you’re perfect.” 

you blush, pressing your face into his bare shoulder. “i really liked that.”

“seemed like it,” he hums as he swipes a single wet wipe to your cheek. “am i as good as you thought?”

“better,” you say, bashful. “am i?”

“better,” he repeats with a smile.

“i can’t believe—i can’t believe we did that.”

“neither can i,” he laughs. “i didn’t know i could.”

you giggle, relishing in the feeling of his warmth against your skin, only half listening when johnny speaks again, telling you to—

“—go home, grab some clothes, then come back, okay? we’ll go for a swim or watch TV or something.”

you look at him with big doe eyes, clearly having been spaced out. he blushes at the sudden eye contact, the action too obvious for you to miss. 

“what, did you forget? you’re allowed to stay with me while your parents are gone, remember?”

right.

right. 

he hands you the white shirt he was wearing previously. “i’ll put your clothes in the wash. just wear this, i’m sure it’s big enough.”

you get dressed, and it’s just when you’re about to leave his bedroom that he stops you. 

“we’re not telling anyone about this, right?”

you nod. “yeah. i’m not.”

he smiles, humming. he starts dressing himself, having found his discarded swim trunks. “good. hurry up and come back, before the sun passes the poolside. i’ll get the jacuzzi started.”

[realexotrash]

waiting game

pairing: best friend’s dad!johnny x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, dilf au, age gap, unprotected sex (dont b silly wrap yo mf willy!), orgasm denial, edging, half the fic is just johnny & mc teasing each other to death, oral (f receiving), fingering around people

summary: Your best friend’s dad is a smoking hot dilf seeking vengeance after you’ve spent the past couple of years teasing him, but it seems that you can’t handle a taste of your own medicine.

word count: 9.1k

a/n: ¼ of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!

Time was something ironic to you. It flew by quickly when you were having fun, yet seemed to drag on when the moments were dull. If you had to give a prime example, it would be now.

This current moment, with you listening impatiently to the vexing sound of your clock ticking while counting down the minutes before you got to see Johnny again. You had a study date with your best friend - his daughter - in over half an hour, and you were beginning to wish that you hadn’t planned your outfit so far in advance. Now you had nothing to distract you from your throbbing heartbeat in the meantime. 

To say the least, every moment with Johnny was nothing short of thrilling, no matter how brief. He had the power to summon a swarm of butterflies in your stomach with a mere smile - unbeknownst to him, of course. As far as you knew, Johnny knew nothing of your silly little crush on him and you wanted to keep it that way. It was fun to imagine what it would be like if he reciprocated your crush, but that’s precisely all it was—your imagination. Hypothetical situations you could only fantasize about. You had to give yourself the tough reminder that he’d never be into his daughter’s best friend. He could never.

Still, you liked Johnny. He was friendly and though he told his dad jokes, he was funny. He was confident. He knew how to cook and he was smart, and you liked that he always knew how to direct conversation. You and Johnny talked sometimes, usually whenever you stayed for dinner, or breakfast. He had never let you feel invisible, or like you were invading a space that wasn’t yours. He welcomed you.

But of course, he was also smoking hot. Smoldering, even. You recalled the first time you laid eyes on him, when you were visiting your best friend and he was in the front yard, mowing the grass. Sweats and a tanktop. Hair stuck to his forehead like a second layer. Drenched in sweat as he battled the summertime heat. Sometimes you still wondered if he caught you gawking, whether it was when you first saw him looking like that or when he told you that he was your best friend’s father and not her brother.

(You were even more surprised to hear that he was in his forties. He could have passed for late-twenties, and you almost scanned his head for a sight of a single grey hair but decided that would have been rude).

Yet as attractive as he was in every sense of the word, there came again the rough reminder that he was equally out-of-bounds. It always slammed roughly against you whenever you daydreamed about him, forcing you to remember that there was a boundary between you both. You could not have Johnny. And even if he were to want you, he couldn’t have you, either. God forbid you thought about how unrequited this was.

None of that ever stopped you from liking him, though. In your heart, there was still an ounce of hope that maybe something could blossom between you, weeding its way through the cracks of the invisible boundary.

What were those cracks? Easy: temptation.

Like any other day, Johnny looked absolutely mouthwatering. He wore a satin shirt and dark jeans, brown hair parted and his skin gleaming beneath the kitchen light. You desperately wanted to make your move right then, but your best friend crashing into your arms forced you to remember why you couldn’t.

“Gosh, I missed you,” Jessica cheered as she wrapped her arms around you firmly.

“It hasn’t even been three days since you last saw me,” you replied amusedly, nonetheless hugging her back. Jessica wasn’t your best friend for no reason. She was closer to you than anyone else, even your own parents. She knew everything there was to know about you. You knew that you could tell her anything, but this was different. You’d rather take this one to the grave.

She rolled her eyes as she loosened her embrace and let you go, “Whatever. Three days, three weeks, it all feels the same,” she said dramatically, making you both snicker. “But for real, my dad was like, just making dinner. Wanna join us?”

It had smelled delicious all the way from the front door. But that was Johnny for you, with cooking being one of his favorite habits. You would feel bad about eating their food though, so you leaned towards declining.

As if he could hear your reply before you said it, Johnny chimed in from the kitchen, “I made your favorite.”

That shut you up before you could reply. Your mouth hang open then closed, and after a moment of self-debate you opened it again. “Shit, pass me a plate,” you’d have to be running a fever or replaced by a shape-shifting alien to turn down Johnny’s chicken Alfredo.

You rested your backpack for now, ignoring their laughter as you strolled inside the kitchen.

By the time dinner ended, Jessica had to unexpectedly leave, mentioning something about a work emergency that you failed to completely catch. You didn’t mind too much, of course. It gave you the perfect excuse to stay in company of Johnny, and you even offered to help him wash the dishes as a thank you for dinner.

“Thank you for helping me with the dishes. You didn’t have to,” Johnny said, stretching his arm to put one final dish away in the cabinet. His sleeves were rolled up so you eyed his biceps like they were the meal, but forced yourself to look away before he could notice.

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I could do after you made such a wonderful meal, sir,” you replied respectfully. In the same breath, it took everything in you not to let your eyes trail down his body. His shirt was unbuttoned, leaving all the good stuff out in the open.

“Don’t flatter me,” Johnny joked. “Do you know how to cook?”

You couldn’t stop your laughter. “Of course not. I’m a safety hazard in the kitchen.”

Johnny snorted, “Why do you say that?”

“Sir, my expertise extends to instant noodles - hardly even that. One time, I burnt them and nearly killed my microwave.”

Johnny’s eyes crinkled. He knew now to keep you at least six feet away from his microwave, maybe even forbid you from touching his stove or oven. He also thought about giving you lessons. “How in god’s name did you do that?”

“I forgot to put water in them!” You explained, tone laced with shame. “Even if I did know how to cook, my skills are no where near yours. You’re like, the cooking connoisseur. I can’t imagine you forgetting to do something as simple as putting water in noodles.”

“It was an honest mistake,” he replied sympathetically. “But I like hearing about it. Tell me more about your failed cooking escapades.”

“God, where do I even begin? Let me tell you how I got banned from contributing to Thanksgiving dinner,” you said, and went on to explain the whole ordeal.

The way Johnny was snickering at you, it was almost like your conversation had the Victorious laugh track - except his giggles were genuine and the frequency of them didn’t irritate you. He had a beautiful laugh, one that made you simper. It went without saying that Johnny found you entertaining. He knew that he could never drink anything as long as he was around you, in fear that you’d have him spitting out his drink at every funny comment you made.

Johnny also let his eyes linger on your frame. Never had he ever seen anyone make skinny jeans look as stunning as you did, and it helped that your body was highlighted. You could feel his gaze burning into you, but chalked it up to your imagination running wild again. There was no way in hell Johnny Suh was checking you out.

Little did you know, that was exactly what Johnny was as doing. He so desperately wanted to fuck you then and there, but resisted. The opportunity would surface some other day, and to be honest he wanted to see where things would go. You weren’t half as subtle as you thought you were but he was going to play dumb until you quit these little games of your own.

“I’m an excellent cleaner, though,” you added once you concluded your story. Your lips curled into a smirk for the most brief moment, yet Johnny still caught it.

He also didn’t fail to catch the flirtatious undertone. “Yeah? Is that how you secured an extra slice of peach Cobbler versus all your hungry cousins?”

“And siblings. And uncles. And don’t forget my aunt’s seventh husband. But yeah, you get it. Favoritism also goes a long way.”

Johnny was amused, to say the least. He was still stuck on the fact that you had practically just offered yourself as a housewife to him, although it wasn’t necessary. He could think of plenty other ways to use you, other ways that you could put in work for him. It was tempting, but he was more determined to make you wait. He wanted to bottle you up until you exploded, and only then would he bother to clean up your mess.

The sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway ended your conversation abruptly. He seemed quick to wrap things up once he heard the car door lock. “That’s Jess. Thank you, again, for your help. You two are probably about to study now so have fun, and make sure to tell her I’ll be working in my study!”

So typical of Johnny to drown himself in work. A workaholic if you knew one. You were disappointed by the conversation coming to an end, then aroused by a thought in even less time. You knew that he had to be exhausted and could only think about letting him take his stress out on you, bending you over his desk and fucking you with his entire being.

Shaking the thoughts away, you replied, “I will.” Inevitably would you revisit them (or they would revisit you, rather), but for now you had to focus about studying with your best friend.

You weren’t slick at all, and Johnny wondered if you knew that.

In the following week, you had been coming over more often. That in itself wasn’t suspicious, but he noticed that your clothes became shorter by the day. Nothing completely out of line, yet he couldn’t help but catch how the inches decreased day after the next. He noticed that you became less shameless in flirting with him. At one point he thought that the only way you could be any more obvious was if you confessed the truth, but then you started lying to him. You made up silly excuses as to why you showed up when Jessica wasn’t there, and he had a different plan.

As always, excitement flowed through your veins when you walked through his door. You were always eager to see him, and even more thrilled to show off today’s outfit - one of your favorite skirts paired with a cute top. To be honest, you didn’t know why you were doing this when you had nothing but your intuition to support you, but something told you to dress nicely today.

It was no shocker that Johnny did too. His sleeves were rolled up yet again, muscles peeking through the fabric, and you could only wonder if you’d ever have the luxury of seeing him completely shirtless. Jessica had mentioned earlier inviting you and another friend to chill in the pool this Saturday, but that didn’t mean her dad would be involved. You could only hope, though you were pulled away from the thought when you heard him call your name.

Cluelessly you blinked, asking dumbly, “Did you say something?”

The presence of a smirk was on Johnny’s face for a sliver of a second. You had caught it, and felt your cheeks warm at the thought that you had been caught staring - much worse spacing out - at him.

He repeated, “I said, what’s it today?” And you flushed some more. You obviously knew that you had been over more recently, that was the entire point. But something about him acknowledging it was thrilling yet frightening.

“You say that like I come over every day.”

“It sure feels like it. You might as well keep a key and put some of your things in the spare room,” Johnny retorted. Your heart sank a little at the thought that maybe you really were overdoing it, and sensing a drop in your mood, he added, “Hey, I’m just messing with you. How may I help you today, princess?”

Princess. He had no clue, you could be such a sucker for pet names. You didn’t even know if it was the pet name itself that had your knees wobbly or how it sounded rollling off his tongue, but you didn’t care. You were losing your mind and hardly covering it up.

You cleared your throat. “I left my notebook here, and I just wanted to pick it up.”

Johnny furrowed his eyebrows. “Jessica said that she dropped it off at your place this morning.”

Well, that backfired. It was true that you had left your notebook, and intentionally, but it wasn’t apart of the plan for Jessica to bring it back to you. Now you could only play dumb and pretend that you hadn’t known about it.

“Oh, um,” you were caught, and damn Johnny’s suffocating gaze for not helping at all. You felt like wilting beneath him while he stared at you like that - cynical and inscrutable.

Instead of giving you time to form a reply, Johnny only walked forward, and you had no where to run but backwards, until your rear hit the wall and you were grounded in place. “You wanna know what I think?” He crooned, hardly containing a laugh at how bewildered you looked. “I think that you haven’t been forgetting anything this whole time. I think that you wore this pretty little skirt, all for me.”

You gasped when his hand landed against your skin, raking up your thigh and underneath your skirt. In that moment, you were thankful that you had worn it. Johnny had complete access to your body, and you liked it. You liked how his gaze rooted you in place, still as though he would have somehow punished you for making any sudden movements. It was clear that you could have moved if you wanted, but even clearer that you liked the feeling of power he had over you. You wanted him to control you, to maybe push him to any surrounding limit to see just how commanding he could be.

“I think that you just want my attention, baby girl. Is that right?” He asked, as though he wasn’t feeling the answer. With his fingers circling your panties, you knew he was only asking for any other reason than confirmation.

You whimpered, “Sir, please.”

“Please, what?” Johnny questioned, playing clueless. He knew what you wanted. He had definitely known much longer than expected, you realized. All those times where you were so obviously flirting with him, he was choosing to play dumb and ignore your antics.

“Please touch me,” you begged.

Johnny smiled softly - condescendingly - but he still wore that fake confused expression on his face, “I am touching you though, aren’t I?”

Fuck, were you already getting tired of this. He knew damn well what you meant by touching you, and this wasn’t it. You wanted more. You wouldn’t care if he manhandled you right now, you just were in desperate need of his contact so then, and only then, would you be satisfied.

You could sound no more desperate as you whined, “Sir, please, I need more.”

He only laughed - dead in your face. “I don’t think that you deserve it.”

“I’ll do anything,” you knew that you sounded pathetic, but you had been waiting far too damn long for him to be teasing you like this. You couldn’t think of one reason why you wouldn’t deserve it, but there was already a mental list brewing of things you were ready to do to convince him. If a blowjob was what it would take, you’d be on your knees in an instant.

The offer tempted Johnny and he would be lying if he said that it hadn’t. But you had been teasing him for years now, and he wanted you to know how it felt when the tables were turned. If you were going to play games with him, then he was determined to beat you, to push you to every edge until you caved in to defeat. Johnny wanted you on your knees begging, and he was determined to have that. What better way to play than to give you nothing at all?

He liked the premise of you can look, but you can’t touch. There was no better way that he could punish you than by giving you a taste of your own medicine. Restraining himself was much more difficult than he had let on, but he knew you had half his patience at most. With the tricks he had up his sleeve, he’d have you caught inside his net in no time.

He tilted his head. “You want this?”

“Need it,” you replied without missing a beat.

Just as quickly, Johnny pulled his hand away from underneath your skirt, and therefore followed the little relief he had permitted you. An instant whimper fell from your lips, but it was clear as day that he didn’t care. His laugh mocked you, teased you, and you couldn’t fathom why he was playing with you like this. You wanted to ask him why he was toying with you, but he would beat you to any words.

“That’s too bad,” he replied, nonchalantly. “I want you to wait for it.”

You whined, “Haven’t I waited long enough?”

You didn’t realize how close he was to you until then. Nevermind how his eyes pierced holes through your skin and made you swallow hard, instantly making you regret saying anything. How you could feel the warmth of his body radiating onto you without him touching you - even if he practically was. How he towered over you and made you feel so much smaller in comparison to him, how he made you feel frozen in place with nothing but a mere glance. It was power. It was prominent in his eyes, whispering, You’ll do anything for me. You couldn’t tell if it was a simple statement or a demand, but it was true.

“Don’t you think that I’ve waited long enough?” His eyes were cold. You wanted to move backwards, but there was no escape. You were trapped beneath his gaze with no where to run. “Don’t be so selfish. You’ve been playing your little games with me for the past couple of years. Don’t you think it’s my turn now?”

It was then that you realized what this was. It was revenge - sweet to him, yet so bitter to you. Karma really was a bitch.

You heard a car pulling into the driveway, and Johnny finally stepped away from you. “See you later,” a day, two days, a week - whatever amount of time defined the wait of later, it was too much. Call it greed. Call it selfish. But you just couldn’t wait. You wanted him. You needed him. Your body was yearning for touch, but you could feel nothing but cool air.

You needed Johnny now, and yet he refused to give himself to you.

It was finally Saturday, and you were nothing less than thrilled. The days in between now and the last time you’d seen Johnny felt closer to weeks and now that you had an excuse, you were going to be downright insufferable. As if you weren’t going to be insufferable either way. With the way things turned out during your encounter with him, you realized than instead of wallowing in defeat, you needed to play back harder. That meant leveling-up and making it known that you weren’t going down without a fight.

As you hoped, Johnny was also in the backyard. Jess had invited you and her crush Mark over for a pool day, and Johnny insisted on grilling for the three of you. You were ninety-nine percent convinced that you were half the reason, with him simply wanting to get at you - and that he did. He looked more mesmerizing than he usually did, sweat making his skin gleam, and it took you back to the first time that you’d seen him.

You shoved the memory into a dark corner in the back of your brain. Determination filled you to the brim, and you had just the trick up your sleeve to make Johnny lose his mind.

“Ready for the pool?” Jessica asked as you both stepped out onto the patio.

It was difficult to hide your smirk as you replied, “Born ready.” You had been planning this moment out for days, and you refused to let reality not match your expectations.

She rushed to get inside the pool with Mark, but you took your sweet time, waiting for the moment when you could feel Johnny’s eyes on you to drop the towel. It revealed a bright red bikini, and the look on his face when you glanced up to capture his reaction was worth a million bucks. He was looking at you like he wanted you, and that alone was enough to satisfy you.

Don’t burn the food, you mouthed cockily, just before sending him a week and diving into the pool with your two friends.

The rest of the afternoon consisted of mutual stares that lingered far too long, and by the time the day began to fade dull you had been in and out of the pool and Johnny had gone inside. With Mark and Jessica being equally sprung for each other it was easy for your third-wheeling adventure to begin, and you were yearning for more excitement, running out of battery from earlier’s thrilll.

Some time later, you all agreed to end the night here and Mark and Jessica decided to go on a walk before he went home. It being implied that you were going home, you all bid your good farewells to each other and headed out of the pool.

But when they left, there was Johnny standing on the patio, eyeing you as you stood by the edge of the pool. “Heading out?”

“I was,” you replied, but if he intended on staying out here then maybe you’d charge your mind.

“So not anymore,” Johnny smirked as he put the pieces together. “Let me join you.”

You shrugged, as a sign of not caring what he chose to do, in spite of the fact that your heart was racing. You sank back into the water, preferred it over the feeling of freezing air prickling your skin. Johnny’s eyes never left yours as he made move for the pool, but yours left his the moment he tugged his shirt above his head.

Of fucking course, he was ripped.

Feigning nonchalance was becoming difficult - your mouth watered and you could hardly stop your eyes from popping out of their sockets. To make matters worse, he looked even better in the water with his skin golden, water gleaming in the moonlight. The cocky look on his face proved he knew it all too well, and you were struggling now more than ever to restrain yourself.

“Bet you thought you were slick for what you pulled this afternoon.”

You smirked at the memory. Of course, you didn’t. The whole point was to provoke him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about,” Johnny groaned. It sounded hotter than it should’ve, and now you were ready to clip the conversation and cut to the action. “You walking around trying to provoke me.”

You retaliated, “I wouldn’t have to if you would just fuck me.”

It was clearly the wrong answer, you concluded from the way his eyes seemed to darken. He’d put you in your place right then and there if that wasn’t exactly what you wanted. But it was, and Johnny knew that in spite of your front you were crumbling. It wouldn’t be very long before he had you bowing down at his feet.

He seemed calm, though the look in his eye was anything but. “I told you, you don’t deserve it,” Johnny replied patiently. You were a pain in the ass, but he still enjoyed making you wait. It was so obviously driving you crazy, and the day what little patience you had remaining dissipated, he was going to have so much fun with you.

“How can I earn it?” You asked meekly. It was slowly coming to you that Johnny had a resolve of steel, and it would take more than flaunty outfits to get under his skin. You didn’t know what to do and it was making you want to yank your hair.

“Behave,” he said, like you were a toddler. “And maybe I’ll consider it sooner.”

He was climbing out of the pool before you could even think of a response, and even when you called out his name he never turned around. You wondered what he was getting out of this. You knew that all your teasing played a major role, but it seemed to have the opposite effect of what was intended. Instead of wrapping him around your finger, Johnny walked further away from your spell. A part of you kind of liked it. Another part of you wasn’t sure how to adapt. Most boys came to you in a flock at the sight of skin, a little flirting here and there and they were your pawns. But Johnny was so much more complicated, and for once the instructions were unclear to you. You winded up frustrating yourself further instead in your attempts to frustrate him.

He was a puzzle with a million pieces and you couldn’t figure out how to put him together. A stranger you weren’t to challenges, but he was the toughest competition you’d face and the worst part was that he seemed to have you all figured out.

You always used to think that people were exaggerating when they expressed their desire for someone else. No feeling could ever be so strong as to tear someone apart that way. Yet now that you were in a position where something so close to you felt so far away, you finally understood. You finally knew what it meant to yearn for someone, and it was killing you slowly.

You craved Johnny. It didn’t matter if you were in the same room because he’d pretend as though everything was normal between you and you couldn’t fathom how he could ignore the tension so easily. Especially when it was all you could feel whenever you were in the same space together.

Next Friday was when things began to stir up. Jessica had invited you and Mark over for dinner and considering their obvious crush on each other, they sat beside each other. That left one seat remaining - the one across Mark, directly beside Johnny.

That’s how you landed yourself in this predicament. Johnny’s long fingers plunging in and out of you from underneath the table. It started with his hand simply resting on your thigh but then he started rubbing circular patterns, until he inched between them and underneath your skirt. You were fighting back noises and expressions, yet in contrast he joined in enthusiastically on the conversation like there was nothing happening beneath the table.

“Johnny, they’re right there,” you whimpered when no one was watching. You were thankful that Mark and Jessica were so invested in one another, it decreased your chances of getting caught sneaking around with Johnny since they hardly paid full attention.

“Guess that means you’ll have to be quiet then,” he whispered without a care in the world. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

You could only give a casual, slight nod. If you spoke, you were at risk of letting out moans and that was the last thing you wanted.

Johnny purred, “Good girl.”

Fuck, that was hot. If it weren’t for your two friends sitting at the table with you, you would have moaned right then. All the titles and names Johnny called you made your skin feel hot and made your desire for him multiply. It felt like a test on your patience and you were failing.

In his attempt to act as though nothing was wrong, Johnny asked to no one in particular, “Any plans for the weekend?”

Jessica didn’t miss a beat. She announced excitedly, “Mark and I are going bowling. He sucks and wants me to teach him.”

“I do not suck!” Mark instantly protested. “I got a strike once!”

“Once, as in one time,” Jessica giggled.

Any other time, you would have leaped at any opportunity to tease Mark, but you couldn’t even focus on the rest of the conversation. Johnny’s fingers felt too good inside you, reaching impossible places with precise angles. You couldn’t lie, he did a magnificent job at pretending he was completely engaged in whatever conversation, but you could tell he had shifted most of his attention to you. Even without looking at you directly, it was almost like he could see your reaction and Johnny was determined to steer you right off of the edge.

Whenever a moan approached you, you bit your lip, hard. Or shoved a forkful of spaghetti into your mouth. Whatever you could do to prevent yourself from moaning. The brief glimpse of a smirk you saw on Johnny’s lips confirmed that he was enjoying this, but you couldn’t be mad. You were enjoying it too - especially considering this was probably the most you would get from him for a while, you could only be satisfied.

You were only snapped out of this trance when you heard your name called, snapping your head up in the direction of Johnny.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Huh?” Oh how familiar this situation had felt.

“I said, do you have any plans for the weekend?” Johnny reiterated, looking at you so normally that even you started to believe he wasn’t fingering you right now.

Oh, did you. If Johnny insisted on not fucking you any time soon, then you were going to have a good ole time with your pal, your vibrator. You couldn’t exactly say that though, and even if you could you wouldn’t dare speak more than three words at once. Not when you were so close. So you opted for simply shaking your head.

“Perfect. With Jessica gone I’ll need someone to help me repaint the walls,” Johnny joked, yet you could see right through what he was saying.

Jessica grumbled, “Dad, no. I told you I’ll help you when I get back.”

You forced your voice up as front as you could, “I don’t mind. It’s not like I’m doing anything anyways and,” you fought the sound back into your throat before you continued, “-and it’s the least I could do after leeching off you guys.”

“You’re not a leech,” your best friend reassured. “But if you really want to help him then suit yourself.”

If only she knew you couldn’t care less about the walls, not when you were focused on a completely different type. You wanted Johnny to paint your walls, simple as that.

Conversation didn’t die, but neither did the feeling between your thighs. They were trembling as you approached your orgasm, and you could feel it creeping up on you. You were about to duck your head to hide the pleasured expressions on your face until you couldn’t feel it anymore.

You nearly whimpered, staring at Johnny with only shock. It wasn’t really surprising considering everything that had happened since that day, but you were disappointed. Johnny kept dropping you off before you got to your destination, and you were sick of his teasing and being unable to do anything about it.

“Sorry, princess,” Johnny murmured, but he didn’t look the part even slightly, with a grin playing on his lips. “I’ll make it all up to you tomorrow.”

You guessed you could wait one more day.

730 days.

365 days.

2 weeks.

The countdown was done. The stalling and wait was over. The amount of days you had been waiting for this one specifically you had no clue, but none of that would matter to you anymore once you finally tested on your tongue the sweet taste of victory. You were ready.

You could feel nothing but nerves and exhilaration, but you liked it. You liked how you weren’t sure if you were breathing when you rang the doorbell, but you knew that you weren’t the moment Johnny opened the door. If you had a quarter for every time Johnny had left you breathless, you’d be rich. You couldn’t fathom how a man could look so attractive, and it wasn’t like he always put extra effort into it like you sometimes did. It was something raw.

Johnny smiled when he saw you. “You made it.”

“Of course,” you replied. You sounded relaxed, although you were anything but calm. The mere thought of the events bound to happen in the following moments had you overjoyed.

Johnny let you inside and shut the door. You didn’t get far down the hall before he pinned you back against the wall, the way he did the last time you had been in this scenario. But you knew the outcome would be different this time.

His stare was still hard and deep, but his grin never left. “Ready to paint some walls?”

Damn the walls. You weren’t even remotely concerned about anything that wasn’t on Johnny or in between your legs.

You held his gaze and smiled back as you joked, “Isn’t that your job?”

“I see you brought your jokes with you,” Johnny observed. Then his hand scooted underneath your skirt and squished your thigh. “And another pretty skirt.”

Melting into the warmth of his touch was your only option. You were so starved that you weren’t sure if the smallest touch was enough to get your gears in motion, or if your greed for more was insatiable and it would never be enough. Though it was certain that you wanted him, and concluding from the way Johnny was eyeing you like you were his prey, the feeling was mutual.

His hand crawled closer in between your thighs and the whole time you felt as though you were holding your breath. Johnny had a way of effortlessly making you defocus on anything that wasn’t your desire for him. You weren’t concerned about what was right or what was wrong. You weren’t concerned about the consequences. All you cared about was feeling his skin on yours and meeting him inside of the sheets.

“Just for you,” you murmured, somewhere on the verge of breathless. Johnny knew you weren’t lying or saying things just to make the moment. With your history, it was easy to believe you had picked it out especially for his taste.

The skirt was a personal favorite of Johnny’s. He had never stated it outright, but the way his eyes were constantly on you was more than enough confirmation. Of course you would use your speculations to your advantage - the moment had been dragged out enough and by now it was established that you were beyond impatient.

“Yeah?” He cocked his head. “Wanna show me what’s underneath?”

More than anything. You wanted to lift up your skirt right then and there. Instead, you opted for nodding your head, unable to come up with any words let alone a sentence. 

Johnny took no time to toss you up in his arms. He carried you into his bedroom and launched you onto his sheets, eyeing you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “I’m gonna have so much fun with you, princess,” he cooed.

For once, you had no smart reply - you just let him move on his own accord. You could feel the tension in the room soaring as he crawled above your body, silent and sly as he slithered between your thighs. Johnny could feel his mouth water as he pushed your skirt up, finally getting a full view of what was underneath. Your panties - pretty, lace, and blue (and drenched.)

He pushed them to the side. “Did you wear these for me, too?”

He honestly didn’t even have to ask. The two of you had been down this road before and it was simply a given that you dressed to impress him particularly. Keeping in mind his favorite color plus how much he fancied your wardrobe on you came naturally when you were this desperate.

You nodded again, then asked, “Do you like them?”

“Love them, baby. You look so pretty in blue,” Johnny murmured. His distracted fingers teased your folds and made your breath hitch. You were already wet, but his touch had you melting into a puddle on the mattress. “You ready?”

There was no hesitance in your voice as you whined, “God, yes.” The moment had already been dragged on too long and though you understood that Johnny would probably want to take his time with you, you needed things to pick up the pace, even if just a little.

“Good, because I wanna taste you.”

Johnny pushed your legs out a little more to give himself the room to roam between them. Then he started with pecks to your inner thigh, gentle and sweet and arousing. As if you weren’t aroused enough already. He admired the way your folds glistened with wetness - he knew that you most likely assumed he was taking his time out of being hell bent on teasing the life out of you, but that was only half of the truth. You were just so pretty that he wanted to savor the moment forever.

His tongue teased back and forth over your slit, almost tentatively as though he was only taste-testing you. When you needily bucked up your hips with a whimper, Johnny decided to quit his games and went in for the kill. He ate you out like there was no tomorrow, slow enough to pay attention to detail yet fast enough so that you weren’t left hanging. You bit your lip when you felt him on your flesh. It didn’t subdue your sounds completely, but enough to where Johnny could tell that they were being muffled.

He drew back, dissatisfied by your lack of volume. “Don’t bite your lip. No one’s hear with us so I wanna hear you.”

You were a little dazed when you nodded, present physically yet mentally beginning to tune out. His lips distracted you, coated with a glossy layer of your slick. Minutes ago it was an image that had only seemed to exist when you closed your eyes, imagining this moment as you had longed for its arrival. Now it had become a reality and you were beyond blissful. You wanted to freeze time and prolong the pleasure for as long as possible.  

The only thing capable of sucking you back out of your mind was the feeling of Johnny’s lips reattaching themselves to your skin. You couldn’t suppress the moan that fell from your mouth then even if you tried, caught off-guard as you were absorbed in your head. You could feel the smug grin dashing upon his lips but it was hard to care when he was practically sucking the life out of you. This was all you had ever wanted and needless to say Johnny didn’t disappoint not one bit. He was everything you imagined he’d be times two.

“F-feels so good,” you stammered. There was nothing to fake even if you wanted to, it genuinely felt good and he was serious competition for anyone that had ever gone down on you before. Your brain felt clouded and your skin felt hot and you liked it. Loved it.

Johnny would have been insufferable with the dirty talk if it wasn’t for the fact that his mouth was currently preoccupied between your thighs. You could already hear the words he’d probably say if he didn’t have a mouthful of pussy, “Yeah? You like that, princess?” Oh, and the never-ending pet names. You were usually fond of them, but he made them seem next level. Maybe it was his voice or some other factor, but you knew that you were attracted to it regardless. 

On his end, Johnny was absolutely wrecked on you. From the way he’s going down on you, with an eagerness that only a starved man could possess (and in a sense, he was one), it’s no secret, either. With how well he managed to hide his desire it got difficult for you to remember that he wanted you as much as you did him, and that was an unsafe amount.

You could feel your orgasm creeping up on you steadily. Your gut was practically screaming it at you, and god you couldn’t wait to cum on his tongue. Every day after the next wasn’t simply edging, but plain orgasm denial. Today was the day the torture was meant to stop.

“Close,” you moaned, as if it weren’t obvious enough, “gonna cum.”

He hummed a muffled, “Yeah?” Johnny knew that you wouldn’t last much longer. Aside from the sensation tearing through your stomach, all the outwardly noticeable clues were the tremble of your thighs and the sounds you made. Though much to your misfortune, the next would be of disappointment instead of delight as he moved away from you yet again.

“Sorry, baby,” he for once sounded decently apologetic. “But I want you to cum when I’m inside you.”

“Fuck me,” you pleaded, although you didn’t have to. Johnny was set on his goal the moment he brought you into his bedroom.

“Trust me, I am. Come here.”

Your movements showed no hesitation as you crawled onto his lap. His lips latched onto your neck and aroused a subtle, soft gasp of surprise from you. You made no attempt to fight his actions though, his hands attacking your skin simultaneously as he tugged at the remaining articles of clothing. As his fingers went for your bra, yours came for his own clothes, unbuttoning his top and slipping it down his shoulders.

Johnny chuckled with amusement at how eager you were. Nevermind himself; he was pinning you back down against the mattress roughly, lips attacking your flesh as his hand slinked beneath your skirt. It wrenched your panties down your thighs and found your clit seconds later, meanwhile his mouth was practically glued to your skin, sucking at your chest, neck, and collarbone. Your neck was most likely covered in hickeys and you knew that, but it felt too good to get concerned over. You figured Johnny would probably have wanted to see them anyways.

The sounds you made each time were cute, but only made Johnny yearn for more. He was going to be an animal the moment he got inside you, wild, untamed, and hunting.

Johnny drew back one final time, knowing what he wanted and that he needed it now. He rummaged throughout the drawers of his dresser swiftly.

You crooked your head to the side. “What are you doing?”

“Finding a condom. Practicing safe sex. Unless, you don’t want me to wear one. I’m clean.”

At that, you were chewing at your bottom lip. Your mind was filled to the brim with dirty scenarios you had thought of before, Johnny cumming inside and making you feel full. You knew the sex would be good either way, but damn it, your imagination had won today.

“I’m on the pill. You can go bareback, if you want,” you murmured, in your attempt to appear as though you hadn’t daydreamed about him fucking you raw.

And of course, he saw right through you. But he only grinned smugly and replied, “Say less. Get on your hands and knees.”

As expected, you took no time to comply. You crawled into position as soon as you heard the command, resting on your palms and knees with your back in an arch. Johnny grabbed a pillow and placed it underneath you, ensuring your comfort first. “You good, baby?”

You nodded. “All good.”

Johnny hummed. He positioned himself behind you not much longer, one hand clutching your waist and the other holding his dick as he then slid inside you. The two of you sighed out immediately in relief - you could feel his grip on you tighten the moment he entered you, and he heard the moan you chirped. There was no doubt that the little waiting game only made this moment better for the both of you, wanting each other in a way that was incomparable to any other feeling you’d ever experienced.

“Fuck, so b-big,” you stammered. You were as aroused as you could have possibly been, but Johnny still had a size you knew would leave you breathless once you saw it through more the print against his pants.

Easing in and out of you, Johnny cooed, “Dick too big for you, baby?” He wouldn’t pick up his pace until he was sure that you were entirely comfortable, and would give you the time to adjust if you needed it. He wanted you to enjoy this as much as he would.

You shook your head. “N-no, I can take it.”

Johnny sported a grin, proud. He whispered, “Good girl.”

He had dreamed of moments like this. Moments where it was just you and him, shutting the world out as you felt each other as closely as you possibly could. Moments where he was pressed deeply inside you, making you moan from every thrust. Moments where he would finally taste a slice of the heaven he had wanted for much longer than he could identify. Johnny had known you wanted him since before a couple of weeks ago. Before that evening in the kitchen, before he confronted you in the hallway, and way before your pool shenanigans. You had always been anything but subtle, and even if you weren’t particularly as bold as you were now, there was always a subconscious ache for him in you that he couldn’t help but sense. You didn’t know it, but you just couldn’t hide your lust.

“Such a good girl. Taking me so well, just like you said you would, princess,” he whispered. That was all it took to make you weak. You were too dazed to tell for sure, but you knew you had probably moaned a little at his praise.

You pushed any other thought back into the spider-y corner in the deep shadows at the back of your brain. Thinking about anything other than Johnny and how he felt between your legs was nearly impossible, and you were relaxed in a way that you hadn’t been in a while. He was just so easy to melt into, someone that made you forget about every other minor and major problem and consequence you’d eventfully have to face.

While he was pounding you from behind, Johnny brought his hand right back underneath your skirt and to your clit. You weren’t surprised that he hadn’t taken it off since he was always unsubtle about his favoritism towards it, and he thought you looked lovely like this.

You whimpered needily, “Johnny.” His fingers were fast at work on you, and in the most positive way possible, you weren’t sure if you could handle it.

“You feel so good, baby girl,” Johnny growled. If anything that only made you want it more, although you already him and he had you.

Sex with Johnny was already better than either of you had ever imagined. There had always been this picture in his head, but now that he could feel you taking every inch of him, he wanted to heighten the feeling and surpass the limits. It was the same for you — your fingers and vibrator could never compare to the feeling of having him inside your walls. He was driving you crazy and you were driving him even crazier.

Even if once was already know risky enough, you were already fantasizing about the next time. You were determined that you could do this “under wraps” thing with him if it meant that you could recreate this feeling again. It was too good to pass up, too good to only have once. There was something so intoxicating about how Johnny felt in you, and how he made you feel generally. Being underneath him alone was somehow one of the most pleasurable things you’d ever felt.

Keeping things under wraps, however, was going to be easier said than done. Not only did it mean keeping this a secret from your best friend, you couldn’t afford to have anyone else find out. But with how the bed creaked, and you were moaning his name loud enough for the neighbors to know what was happening in his bedroom, you were going to need more than a good excuse. You could only hope the walls were thick enough to subdue most of your sounds. The only sounds audible in the room were skin-slapping, moans and grunts, heavy breathing and you swore that you could hear your heartbeat in your brain. You wondered if Johnny could hear it too, or if the banging in your chest was something that only you would be able to pick up on.

The force of Johnny’s thrusts knocked your body forward, enough to cause your face to crash into a pillow. He went at a tolerable pace - not too slow, yet not too fast - and yet, your heartbeat was racing. Maybe it was all the action unfolding around you, or maybe it was simply the exhilaration making your blood feel as though it was zipping throughout your veins. Whatever it was, you knew that you liked it.

There was nothing to not like — Johnny fucked you too good for that. It hadn’t surprised you not even a bit, but Johnny was better than anyone who had ever been between your thighs. He was relentless. The pressure your body felt right then was enough to make you implode.

That was when you could feel it approaching again. It was louder, even more prominent, and you were desperate for Johnny to make you cum. Now that you had finally proved to him that you deserved it, you would snap if he edged you even once more. You were tired of being denied pleasure, and you knew Johnny was tired of denying himself the sweet victory.

“C-cumming, Johnny please,” you begged, plea half-muffled into the pillow. You weren’t above it, not when your orgasm was in arms reach. Johnny had tamed you, and whatever shame or face you had to save was discarded ages ago.

“Fuck, yeah? Hold on,” he muttered.

Johnny changed your positions, moving from behind you to above you, and you underneath him. You glanced at him with furrowed eyebrows, wondering what prompted the change.

As if he could read your mind, he said, “Wanna see your face when you cum, baby girl.”

That made your heart flutter.

It was always painfully obviously when you were far from it. As long as whoever was fucking you was doing a good job, there was never a need to question it, and Johnny was doing a phenomenal one. Never had anyone had you as weak as he did and it was dangerous. You were addicted; and now that you were hooked, it was possible for you to take more of him than was safe.

Yet you couldn’t be bothered. Not now, not when you were so, so close to having it all. You didn’t care what was too much, because it didn’t seem like there was even a such thing as enough. You were on the brink of an orgasm, thighs trembling yet again and your face twisting with pleasure. Johnny hissed at how you were clenching around him, tightening his hold on your hips. He wasn’t at all very much far behind you.

“Johnny,” you cried out.

He leaned low, peppering kisses to your neck. “I got you, baby. Cum for me,” he crooned, almost as breathless as you were.

Moans tumbled from your mouth as you did exactly that, wounding your nails in the bare flesh of his back. Johnny was set off only moments after that, either by your expressions or how you were relentlessly clenching around him, painting your walls with his cum as he groaned sexily into your ear. You couldn’t move, barely even breathe as you rested against your sheets. Your chest rose and fell quickly, but Johnny kissing your skin soothed you; it made everything feel okay.

“How do you feel, princess?” He cooed beside your ear.

You answered through a shallow breath, sporting a grin as you replied, “Full.”

Johnny murmured, satisfied, “Good.” He was showing the utmost appreciation to your body and skin, kissing you and holding you and treating you so gently. It was like being beside him alone made the whole world disappear. He was still inside you, softened up, but he wanted to wallow in this feeling a little longer.

“We’ll do this again, right?” You asked. Maybe it was a little desperate, but you needed to know.

“Of course, baby girl. You thought we did all that waiting just to go one time?”

No, you wanted to say. It wasn’t that you had, but Johnny was unpredictable whenever he wanted to be. You needed a little confirmation, just to be safe.

Instead, you opted for shaking your head. “Will you make me wait again?”

“No,” Johnny shook his head back, “not unless you decide to be a brat again and need to be punished. Think you can be a good girl for me, babe?”

You smiled softly, bobbing your head. The last thing you wanted was to be put through that torture ever again, and if all it took to never experience it again was submitting to Johnny, then it was say less.

You had that out of the way. Johnny was accessible to you, and you to him. There was one small conflict now, you remembered as his phone began to ring, with the caller ID being daughter.

There was still another game that you both had to play; hide and seek.

[realexotrash]

Switch pt.4 : John-Jae-Chan

PART 1 : PART 2 : PART 3 : CEO MASTERLIST

⇢ Synopsis: You consider testing Jaehyun’s jealousy when he reacts to Johnny and Haechen being enthralled with Lucas. But something surprising happens. And then and other… and another, the night turns upside down really, but in the best possible way. ⇢ Pairing: (Jaehyun x reader) x Haechan & Johnny & Lucas ⇢ Genre: smut, crack, angst ⇢ Warnings: poly nct, sexual mentions of Lucas, multiple sex scenes, soft squishy sex, sub/switch/dom dynamic sex, unprotected sex, Jae lets reader be on top but he’s still the dom, pregnancy kink, “daddy” count (1), oral, dom JohnJae, switch Haechan, shower sex, etc… ⇢ Word Count: 12.9k ⇢ Tropes/AU’s:  CEO!NCT, Dom!Johnjae, poly nct, etc…

You’ve seen this look before and you follow Jaehyun’s gaze, clinging to his side as his arm gets tighter around you. 

Part of you isn’t shocked when your eyes land on Lucas. Of course he’d be the man bringing out Jealous Jae, you’re just surprised that this time, it’s not because of you. At least, not yet.

Johnny is across the room with his fellow six foot CEO. The two are laughing so hard they’re doubled over, Lucas’s hand on Johnny’s shoulder. Haechan is there too, as is Mark, and the four of them look like they’re having the greatest time in the world. 

“Jae?” You ask, looking up at the man holding you, his gaze still on the group across the room.

“Hmm?” He raises his drink to sip it and you laugh. You doubt he has any idea that he does this every time he’s jealous. Looking over at Lucas, you wonder if you can work this in your favour.

Keep reading

[realexotrash]

having very … thoughts abt incubus!haech … (i need him so bad val its not even funny)

- ☀️

a/n: just cried to the thought of this. like woah val can write a dom!haechan?? who would’ve thought… MDNI

incubus!haechan choosing to intrude on your dreams because he knows just how sexually frustrated you are.

incubus!haechan showing up in your dreams, touching every single spot that makes you feel good. it’s almost too good to be true, no one’s ever made you feel this good.

right before you cum in your sleep, you’re pulled away from your dream, now staring at the unknown man staring at you from the edge of your bed. he was just fucking you in your dream. haechan would smile at you as you throw yourself onto him, laughing at how quick you beg him to fuck you.

incubus!haechan who wastes no time repeating his actions from your dream, quickly pulling off your shorts and panties. he taunts you for how wet you are for a literal demon, his hand quickly slapping your cunt. the loud moan you let out pleases him, quickly lining himself at your entrance.

“angel,” he’d say, “wanna hear you beg for it. wanna hear you say that you want me to ruin your pretty pussy. my pretty pussy.”

“i-i need you! need you to ruin everyone else for me!”

incubus!haechan would put all his focus onto you. he can hear your every thought, can hear what makes your heart race and what makes you clench around him. he knows everything you like, and it’s easy for him to get you wrapped around his finger.

incubus!haechan who really just wants to see you cry and beg for him. he’s not nice, knowing that you need more than someone treating you like porcelain in bed. that’s why he’s there to take care of you, give you everything you could wish for in a human. he’d tease you, edge you for as long as he wishes until his own patience runs out. he’d fuck you into the sheets, enjoying the pretty cried you let out of his name, no human ever sounding as sweet as you do.

incubus!haechan wants you to know that you’re all his now. he’s made you cum on his cock too many times, fucking you dumb. all you remember is his name and how good he’s making you feel. you take everything he’s giving you, enjoying the mix of pain and pleasure you give to him. when he knows he’s close to cumming, he leans down to whisper in your ear, “you’re gonna let me fill your pussy full of my cum, right? gonna let everyone know you needed a demon to get off?”

all you can do is let out a loud whimper, nodding at his words as he fills you up. there’s no one who’s ever felt as good as you do, your warm walls milking his cock as he fucks his cum into you. he thinks it’s what heaven might feel like. you’re his angel now, can’t let you go knowing that you’re the only one who can make him feel just as good.

he’ll make sure he gets you, heading to your apartment every single night he hears his name flash in your mind.

[realexotrash]

pussy fiend (l.dh)

PAIRING ➢ haechan x fem!reader

GENRES & AUS ➢ smut, humor, fluff; college au, enemies to fuckbuddies to lovers, roommate au

WORD COUNT ➢ 68.9k total, in 2 parts (28.2k & 40.7k)

WARNINGS ➢ invasion of privacy, Haechan’s a sneaky little shit, cocky!Haechan, jokes about emotional manipulation, author pretends to know about stuff she doesn’t, mild dubcon

CONTENTS ➢ (mild) dubcon, bratty switches! boffum!, somnophilia, oral (receiving), allusions to a free-use kink but barely, rimming (receiving), creampie, dacryphilia, brief thigh job, praise, barely degradation but if you’re sensitive note that, some spit kink, panty sucking (?), Haechan’s a bit of a pain slut, fingering, biting

SUMMARY ➢ uhhh he likes you and is a fiend for pussy idk bestie

AUTHOR’S NOTE ➢ long time no see! please consider sending a donation/tip if you enjoy the fic! please do not get upset with me if you ignore the contents/warnings and get your feelings hurt; that is no one’s doing but yours. if you enjoy the fic, please consider tipping me here or here!! ALSO massive thank you to @ncteez for all her help with the initial idea and beta reading this monster for me :')

“Listen,” You start off with a firm tone as you look out at your audience. “We need to address the elephant in the room.” You say as you shoot your tormentor a disdainful look, your frown deepening when he just smirks and winks at you. “Ever since Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, has moved into this apartment, my life has not known peace. I truly believe there is a karmic imbalance somewhere in the universe now that he lives here.”

“It is unlawful—dare I say immoral, even—to have him terrorize me the way that he does. If we are to continue to allow him to run amok and unchecked, I do believe this could be the beginning of the end. I fear that snakes may begin manifesting in our home.” You finish your speech with a fearful shudder for dramatic effect, and look at your other two roommates for their responses.

“…We can’t kick him out,” Yena has the audacity to whisper loudly to you from the couch as if the four of you aren’t all well within earshot. “If he goes, Jeno goes, and we need their rent money.”

Jeno nods in agreement. “I would have to go, yeah.”

“…Fair point,” You mutter, frowning. “I suppose you can stay until I find someone better.” You narrow your eyes at Haechan, who wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“You’ll be looking for a while, babe,” Haechan replies, grinning as he leans back against the couch cushion, folding his hands behind his head. “There’s nobody better than me.”

“I would rather live with an undomesticated porcupine that panics and shoots quills at me every time I startle it.” You reply, staring him dead in the eyes and ignoring Yena’s amused but dismissive scoff.

“You’re so hot when you’re mean to me.” Haechan coos, and you grimace, glaring at him. “Fuck, just like that.”

“This is not a whorehouse!” You exclaim in alarm, hopping off of the couch to get away from a grinning Haechan. “Have you no shame?”

“Why are you talking like that?” Yena snickers. “All hoity-toity and stuff.”

“I don’t know,” You grumble, jabbing an accusing finger in Haechan’s direction. “He brings out the worst in me.”

“O…kay…” Yena trails off, looking around at the three of you and waiting for someone to say something. No one does, and she slaps her knees lightly and stands up. “Okay! Well…this is the beginning of our house meeting, and I brought in something called a ‘feelings stick’ so we can address our emotions!” She explains, handing Jeno a thick, almost cylindrical piece of wood with neon paint splotches on it.

“Uh…how do you use a ‘feelings stick,’ anyway?” Jeno asks as he turns the decorated piece of wood over in his hand, brows furrowed as he sizes up the stick.

“I saw it on New Girl!” Yena says, her excitement creeping into her response, and you smile encouragingly at her. “We start our statements with ‘I feel,’ and that way we, uh… feel more personally connected to the conversation or something.”

“Is that how they did it on New Girl?” Haechan asks, and Yena pauses to think.

“…It didn’t really work on New Girl, actually.” She recalls, and a silence fills the living room as you, Jeno, and Haechan look at each other.

“Maybe because this is an apartment roommate meeting and not group therapy?” You suggest helpfully, and Yena frowns at you, causing you to raise your hands in surrender immediately. “What do I know, right? Hey, Jeno, pass me the stick.” You say, taking it from his outstretched hand and turning it around in your palm. “I feel,” You start, looking at Yena for approval, who beams and gives you a thumbs up, “grateful to Yena for coming up with ways for us to communicate more effectively.”

“I feel appreciated,” Yena replies, smiling widely.

“I feel…a bit frustrated when Jeno leaves the toilet seat up sometimes.” You continue, and Jeno nods.

“I feel, uh, sorry?” Jeno says slowly, and when you nod and smile at him, he grins proudly.

“I feel heard.” You nod resolutely, your smile fading when you lay eyes on Haechan, who’s watching you with an expectant smirk. “I feel like you should move out.” You say plainly, and Haechan laughs, your words clearly not hitting him where you wanted them to.

“I feel so close to you right now,” Haechan responds with a teasing grin, and you narrow your eyes.

“I feel bloodlust.”

“Hey!” Yena whispers at you, but you ignore her.

“I feel homicidal.” You continue, still ignoring Yena when she whispers your name as a warning, your gaze trained unwaveringly on Haechan. “I feel like you get on my very last nerve and I feel like Yena and I should have just gotten a smaller, cheaper apartment so I wouldn’t have to put up with your incessant flirting, and I feel like if you try to use the bathroom while I’m showering one more fucking time, I’m going to squirt soap in your eyes.”

“I feel like you should lock the door, then,” Haechan counters smoothly. Your eye twitches.

“I feel like you’ve forgotten that Yena lives here and might need to use the bathroom while I shower.” You retort, and Haechan shifts forward, elbows resting on his knees as he stares you down with a challenge glinting in his eye.

“I feel like you’re not being impartial.”

“I feel like you’re a nitwit.”

“I feel…kinda turned on now, actually.” Haechan chuckles, his tongue running along his lip.

“I feel like violence really might be the answer sometimes, especially if the question is ‘what do I want to commit whenever I see Haechan?’” You snap, and Yena lunges at you, snatching the feelings stick from your hands before you can use it as some sort of weapon.

“I feel like this started out well and went sour quickly,” Yena says hurriedly, “and I feel like this meeting should be concluded and maybe tried again later.”

“I feel like you’re right,” You agree, casting one last disapproving look at Haechan before sighing heavily and pulling out your phone, preparing to scroll idly. As you settle into your spot on the couch and cross your legs, Yena leans against the couch beside you, already on her phone. Jeno settles in across from you on the opposite couch, tentatively lifting his legs to place them on the coffee table, and Haechan sits back in his spot beside Jeno, half-scrolling on his phone, half-watching you.

“So can we go?” Jeno asks, looking at you, and you shrug, gesturing at Yena with your thumb.

“Ask Yena,” You mouth, and he nods in understanding.

“Yena?” Jeno asks, eyes darting to you for confirmation, which you give via a small nod, “I was wondering if we’re free to go.”

“Sure,” She sighs, slightly deflated, and your heart pangs, feeling apologetic for messing with the house meeting. You genuinely didn’t mean to; Haechan just has a very specific way of getting under your skin and, unfortunately for you, he’s fully aware of it and exploits it at every opportunity, claiming it’s hot when you’re mad at him.

Your little back and forth with Haechan wasn’t actually always like this; when you two met last spring in freshman year, Haechan was a perfectly fine person to be around; clearly fine enough for you to agree to living with him. Somewhere down the line, his overall teasing remarks and flirtatious advances started becoming less general and more targeted. Specifically, targeted at you.

It wasn’t long before you grew aggravated with his direct advances and deliberately persistent attempts to hit on you, only made more annoying when you realized he flirted with a bunch of other girls. Your lack of interest only seemed to increase Haechan’s determination tenfold, a dynamic which only got worse once the two of you started living under one roof at the beginning of this school year. You’re now in your fourth semester of college and almost entirely sick of Haechan’s antics.

“Hey, do you know a girl named Heoni?” Jeno asks you, and you perk your head up at the name, smiling brightly.

“I do! She’s a sweetheart; isn’t she the girl in Mark’s art class that he’s, like, pretty much obsessed with?” You ask, and Jeno nods in confirmation.

“Yep, that’s the one. Mark’s asking if she would know anyone here enough to want to hang out later.”

“She definitely knows me enough, and I would hope she likes me enough,” You answer with an uncertain shrug. “If Mark needs it, I’ll come hang out. Aw, they fit together; she’s super cute, Mark’s super cute–”

“Please stop hitting on my friends,” Haechan groans.

“No.” You reply immediately, and Jeno looks between the two of you with a baffled expression.

“I–I thought–weren’t we just setting Mark up with Heo–” Jeno looks at you with his head cocked to the side in confusion and you put a finger to your lips, the male catching on several beats later, his confused expression morphing into one of understanding as he nods and says nothing.

“Why not?” Haechan complains, and you set your phone on your lap and look up at him with a smile.

“Because it clearly bothers you.” You reply, and Haechan huffs.

“Please?” When you shake your head at him, he sucks his teeth and continues, “I’ll just sabotage your every attempt.”

“How are you gonna do that?” You chuckle skeptically.

“I’ll tell them all that you’re crazy…insane, even.”

“They literally know me, Haechan,” You laugh as you rise from the couch and head past him to your room, shooting Jeno an amused look as he sits on the opposite couch. “Plus, isn’t there a thing that says crazy girls are good in bed?” Your journey to your room is stopped short by Haechan quite literally throwing himself at your feet, on his knees as he whines and grovels, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a fascinating sight.

“Please,” He begs, looking up at you pleadingly, “It’ll kill me if any of them get to be with you! Please don’t let me find out you’re going with any of my friends.” Haechan hangs his head sadly, and you fake a cough to hide your snicker, eyes darting to a very amused Jeno who’s got his phone out and aimed at you two, apparently recording for blackmail purposes.

You pat Haechan’s head in a sympathetic gesture. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He says hopefully, looking up at you, and you nod.

“Yeah. You won’t find out if I fuck any of your friends.” You say with a smile, and his quick shift into a panicked expression is instant, evoking yet another cough-laugh from you. “You might not want to ask Jaemin about me, then.” You warn him, and Haechan’s eyes widen in horror.

“What?” He exclaims loudly, and you step around him, patting his head again for good measure.

“Bye,” You coo, dragging out the word as you head to your room, relishing in the sound of Haechan’s alarmed, rapid speech pattern as he tries to make sense of what you’ve just told him.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

“I’m just saying that Jar Jar Binks has no visible sex organs–”

“Would you rather they be visible?” Yena cuts you off, alarmed yet amused as she looks over her shoulder at you, blindly feeling for her toast after the toaster goes off on the counter she’s facing. Pinching one piece, she winces, dropping it back in the toaster as she shakes her hand. “Why are you trying to see the sex organs of Jar Jar Binks, anyway? Do you wanna fuck him or something?” She laughs, and you shoot her a look, one Yena knows all too well to be the look you give before you choose chaos on purpose.

“Maybe I’m trying to be Mrs. Jar Jar Binks,” You reply with a sly grin, and Yena bursts out laughing. Your curiosity piques when Yena appears to spot something over your shoulder that makes her laughter build, turning yourself around in your chair a moment too late to see a freshly awake and washed up Haechan already moving to lean against the island next to where you’re sitting. A quick scan of his frame grants you a view of his black t-shirt, his grey sweats, and his–

“It’s nine in the morning,” You stress, looking away from him quickly and covering your eyes.

“Well, good morning to you, too,” He chuckles. “I can’t control it,” He defends himself, “but I see you caught an eyeful.”

“It looked at me first!” You yelp defensively, and Haechan laughs as he shoots Yena a friendly nod in greeting and slides his gaze back over to you, a mischievous smirk curling his lips as he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Anyway, is that why you won’t give me a chance?” Haechan asks with a sly, teasing grin, turning so his back is against the island and his elbows are resting on the surface behind him, giving him the freedom to observe you freely without having to crane his head. Thankfully, something about the shift in his position gives you the ability to acknowledge him without bearing witness to his…friend. “Is your type Jar Jar Binks?”

“The reasons why I don’t want to fuck you have nothing to do with Jar Jar Binks and everything to do with your personal character flaws,” You reply dismissively, turning away from him dramatically and focusing on Yena, who hands you a freshly buttered slice of toast and the strawberry jam.

“…Character flaws…” Haechan says slowly, a smile growing on his face, and you turn to look at him, giving him a judgmental once over.

“Yes?” You reply, confused. “What, was that too big of a word for you?”

“Character flaws as in personality traits…” Haechan continues, his smile widening even more, and you shoot him an annoyed glare.

“You take as long as you need to process those two words, Haechan,” You say as condescendingly as possible, baffled by how dense he’s being. His actions become clear when he grins triumphantly, leaning closer to you and filling your nose with the scent of minty toothpaste and the fabric softener he uses.

“So it’s not my appearance,” Haechan finally gets to the point, and you freeze mid-chew, annoyed you slipped up and even more annoyed that he caught it. “So if my personality was different, I’d have a chance…”

“No,” You reply quickly–too quickly, actually, if Haechan’s eyes lighting up with determination are anything to go off of. “No!” You try again, more insistently, but you can tell it’s too late as he pushes off of the counter and wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Too late! Gonna go study Jar Jar Binks videos and copy his mannerisms,” Haechan announces, heading back towards his room.

“You freak, I still won’t fuck you!”

“Can’t hear you!” Haechan replies in a sing-song lilt. “Meesa leaving…meesa plotting…meesa studying…”

“You’re doing it wrong!” You quip as he rounds the corner out of sight, and he pops his head back, puckering his lips at you in a smug little air-kiss.

“That’s what the studying’s for.” He shoots you a wink and disappears once more, leaving you to groan in annoyance.

“I can’t stand him, actually,” You groan, setting your toast back on the plate as you frown.

“I really don’t think I get why, though,” Yena replies, leaning her elbows onto the island on the other side of you, her head cocked to the side in confusion as she chews on a piece of cored apple. “I mean, you guys are actually pretty similar.”

You stare at her blankly. “…That is actually the most offensive thing you’ve ever said to me,” You deadpan, and Yena rolls her eyes as she laughs at you. “You should have just killed me when you had the chance–it would’ve hurt less.”

“See? You’re dramatic just like him!” Yena points out, and you glare at her until she backtracks, raising her hands in surrender. “I recant my statement.”

“Thank you,” You reply, disgruntled. You look around, craning your head to see down the hallway where Haechan’s and Jeno’s rooms are, and, seeing nothing, lean forward to speak in a lowered voice. “Listen–is he hot? Yes. Is he sex on legs? …Yes. Is it actually devastating how attractive he is? …Yes,” You say, your train of thought slowing to a stop at the growing smug smile on Yena’s face. “…Am I now realizing that I’m making the opposite of my point? Yes.” You mutter shamefully, hopping off of your chair to walk over to the fridge and pull out various fruits to wash, chop, and blend into a smoothie.

“I’m just saying,” Yena sing-songs.

“And you will say no more!” You whisper forcefully, and she rolls her eyes, biting into another piece of apple before she pantomimes locking her lips and throwing away the key. You reach to unplug the toaster and plug in the blender, struggling due to your lack of a visual on the outlets themselves. The plug scrapes and skids along the wall several times before you huff and give up, flinging the cord down in frustration and deciding to prepare the ingredients first and try again later. “Finding that socket is impossible,” You grumble. “This must be how guys feel during sex.”

“Can’t relate,” Haechan’s voice comes out of nowhere, and you shout in alarm, whipping around to see him beside you, fully dressed and opening the fridge to get a bottle of soda, grinning with satisfaction.

“Literally was not speaking to you.” You say, blinking impassively at him. “Wait, why are you dressed? It’s Saturday,” You ask, confused, and Haechan looks over at you while he twists open the cap on the bottle (you watch his hands working on the cap for an embarrassingly long time, but you’d rather stick a fork in an outlet than admit to that) and takes a sip.

“Going to the library,” He explains when he finishes swallowing, and, no, you did not watch his Adam’s apple move…oh, who are you kidding? “I’ll be back soon, babe; don’t worry.” He teases, and you echo him with a mocking expression as you tilt your head from side to side. “I’m such a fan of our little lovers’ quarrels,” Haechan muses as he slowly makes his way to the front door, walking backwards to keep his eyes on you. “So I can’t stay away from you for too long.”

“Do you ever cringe at the corny stuff you say?” Yena asks curiously, and Haechan looks over at her as he shakes his head.

“Nope,” He answers, popping his lips on the ‘p.’ “You gotta own the cringe.” He states as if citing a proverb, shooting Yena a wave and you a final wink before he turns and heads to the entryway of the door to put his shoes on and leave.

You wait to relax until you hear the front door shut fully and the locks click into place as Haechan locks the door behind him, slouching against the counter and huffing crankily. “I can’t stand him.”

“Sure,” Yena replies casually, “and you also weren’t ogling him like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankle while he was messing with that bottle.”

“…Have I wronged you or something?” You ask, confused, and Yena bursts out laughing. “No, I’m just wondering why you would say these things to me as if I have no shame. I have so much shame.”

“So much?”

“Too much, really.”

“I’ll pray for you.”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

As you and Yena come home from the library, after shutting the apartment door, you’re met with a…funny little smell.

“It smells like Four Loko.” You whisper to Yena, whose nose crinkles as she registers what you just said.

“It kinda does.” She whispers back, and when your eyes narrow, hers widen. “Don’t make it a big thing,” She pleads and you wave your hand dismissively.

“I won’t,” You whisper, and Yena sighs in relief.

“Okay, good, because I thought you’d fly off the handle–”

“Why does it smell like Four Loko in here?!” You yell, storming into the living room.

“Knew it,” Yena sighs as she follows after you.

“It’s probably your fault!” You round on Haechan immediately, who raises his hands defensively as he sees your annoyed expression.

“You’re so hot when you’re mad,” Haechan sighs dreamily, and you glower at him.

“Still not getting your dick wet. Back to the issue–”

“I wasn’t trying to get my dick wet!”

“Whatever! Why does it smell like Four Loko?” You press, and Haechan shoots you a defensive look, his eyes wide as he shrugs.

“I don’t know!”

“Haechan, are you lying?” You narrow your eyes at him, and he just stares back at you intently from his spot on the couch.

“No.” He says calmly, and you get even closer, practically in his face as you stare at him, waiting for a sign of him about to crack.

“This is hot,” Haechan chuckles, his gaze dropping to your lips. “Are we about to kiss right now?”

“You wish,” You scoff, and Haechan nods.

“Sure do.”

“You aggravate me.”

“I know. It’s hot.”

“It’s hot,” You echo him with a mocking voice, and his brows furrow.

“I don’t sound like that.” He huffs, and you shrug.

“You do to me.”

“Well, I don’t know how, because I don’t talk like that–”

“Can we get back on topic, please?” Yena groans, and you look back at her with an apologetic expression, her fond smile showing you that you’re forgiven. One last glance at Haechan gives you the sight of him grinning at you, raising his eyebrows before puckering his lips in an air-kiss so quick that you almost miss it. Rolling your eyes, you stand up and walk back over to Yena, putting your hand on your hip.

“I don’t believe that Haechan isn’t to blame for this.” You huff, and Yena snickers in amusement when the male in question splutters indignantly, throwing his hands up in the air.

“I was out virtually all day! I got home like an hour before you guys came just now!” He replies, seemingly eager to clear his name.

“Well, maybe you came in and shotgunned a Four Loko or something!” You retort, and Haechan’s whole face scrunches up in disbelief and confusion.

“Do you actually think that makes any sense–” Haechan’s reply stops short when the bathroom door opens and Jeno comes out in a t-shirt and sweats and rubbing a towel in his wet hair, walking through the hallway but stopping in his tracks when he sees you’re all home.

“Hey, guys!” He greets you with a sunny smile, and you mirror his expression, his infectious happiness already getting to you.

“Hi, Jeno!” You and Yena greet him in unison, and Haechan and Jeno share a grin and friendly nod. “You wouldn’t happen to know why the apartment smells like Four Loko, would you?” You ask, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to explore every avenue of possibility.

“Oh, yeah! That was me,” Jeno replies, half-sheepish, and you falter.

“…Huh?”

“Yeah, I washed out a bunch of bottles I had lying around in my room so I could make more protein shakes, and a bunch of them were filled with Four Loko, so I just poured them down the sink. Sorry about it,” He explains, looking a bit downcast, and your eyes widen.

“It’s okay! It’s okay, Jeno, don’t even worry about it.” You rush to assure him, and he looks slightly less put out, a smile slowly returning to his face.

“Okay…cool.” He perks back up and jerks a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his room. “Gonna head to my room and relax.” Once you, Yena, and Haechan have sent him off, Jeno waves and heads back towards the original destination of his room. Once you all hear his door shut, Haechan leaps to his feet and points an accusing finger at you.

“How does he get off scot-free, but you practically jumped down my throat?” He exclaims, and you stare at him blankly as you go to get the air freshener from the bottom cabinet under the sink and start spraying liberally.

“Simple; Jeno can do virtually no wrong,” You explain as you turn to spray the curtains, “and I find you aggravating.”

“But–” Haechan starts, but you spray air freshener in his direction to ward him off. “You can’t–” You spray at him again. “I just–” And again. “Can you–” And again– “Okay!” Haechan huffs, narrowing his eyes at you. “I get it.”

“Great.” You chirp. “Then go away.”

“I’ll be back,” He warns you, walking backwards towards his room as he keeps his eyes locked on you.

“Please don’t.”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The cacophony of the main campus cafeteria is both disturbing and comforting, the din strangely familiar, commonplace even, as groups of friends huddle around the small tables with the occasional wobbly leg. Today is no different, as Haechan sits with several of his friends at a lunch table, raptly listening as they recount their experience at the grocery store.

“It was actually humiliating.” Mark recalls, a grave expression occupying the usually bright and cheery male’s face. “She was so sweet about it, but I could tell she was trying not to laugh.”

“Heoni is a sweetheart,” Jeno agrees with a nod. “She even helped you pick up some of the cans you knocked over!”

“I’m still lost on how Mark messed up so badly within five minutes of talking to Heoni that he knocked over an entire display section of canned peas.” Renjun says slowly, Haechan noticing his friend’s lips quivering as he, too, tries not to laugh.

“It all happened so fast,” Mark groans, leaning forward to put his face in his hands. A piece of his hair gets in his pasta sauce, but no one mentions it, the male already having gone through enough today. “She was there in the produce aisle and she looked so pretty and we were talking about art class together and walking around kind of aimlessly–kind of like a date, really–”

“Mark?” Haechan butts in, and Mark sits up, looking at him cluelessly.

“Yes?”

“The point. Get back to it.”

“Oh, right! Anyway, she laughed at something I said–God, she has the cutest laugh–and I guess I spaced out because the next thing I know, I’m on the floor, my butt hurts, and I’m surrounded by canned peas.” He finishes forlornly, and Yangyang’s mouth twitches as he prepares to speak.

“Mark bumped into an employee cart, jumped like a foot in the air, and landed at an angle, I guess, because he stumbled to the side and knocked over the whole display of canned peas.” Yangyang fills in for Mark, and, if the quiver of his voice is anything to go by, it was every bit as comical as Haechan is imagining, and he takes a moment to mourn not being there to witness it first-hand.

“Heoni took that can to the foot like a champ, honestly–” Jeno recalls with a wince, and Mark whips his head around to face Jeno (a little bit of the pasta sauce in his hair flies and hits Yangyang just below his eye, but Mark fails to notice) with a horrified expression.

“One of the cans hit her in the foot?” Mark’s voice is higher than Haechan has ever heard it, and it’s making the situation even more amusing, even Renjun having to disguise his laugh as a cough into his fist. Haechan and Renjun make eye contact and regret it immediately, looking away quickly and trying harder to hide their amusement as Renjun picks up a napkin, leans forward, and graciously cleans the remaining pasta sauce out of Mark’s hair. “Thanks, Renjun.” Mark sighs sadly, and Renjun nods in acknowledgment as he leans back in his seat.

“That sounded like a disaster,” Haechan exhales slowly, fixing his face into a sympathetic expression to comfort his friend. “That doesn’t really explain why Yangyang is limping, though.”

“Oh! It was just your roommate’s posts to her story on Instagram,” Yangyang replies offhandedly, not noticing the blatant confusion on Haechan’s face.

“Yena? She didn’t post anything today.”

“Not Yena,” Yangyang says, and Haechan’s eyes widen, barely registering Yangyang’s next words as he whips out his phone and opens Instagram. “She posted, like, an outfit of the day picture and some selfies, I think.”

“I can’t find them,” Haechan groans as he searches through the stories of everyone he follows to no avail.

“Oh, yeah! I was there when she got that skirt,” Jeno announces proudly as he starts to reminisce. “She and Yena lured me to the mall with them one time so I could be their bag boy, and I helped approve that skirt. It was a long time to walk around after them, but I got free food out of it.”

“Why can’t I find them?” Haechan asks confusedly, and Renjun leans over to look at his phone.

“Well, then you’re kinda to thank for this,” Yangyang says as he leans over to high-five Jeno. “You saw, man, I literally dropped to my knees in the middle of the grocery store.”

“Well, yeah, but I thought that was partially dramatics.” Jeno replies, confused.

“It kinda was–I had to commit to the bit, you know? The sentiment was real, though.” Yangyang explains, and Jeno nods in understanding before he reaches an arm around to rub Mark’s back comfortingly, the oldest male still visibly upset over his harrowing experience with his crush at the grocery store.

“Renjun, what’s her name on Instagram?” Haechan asks, and Renjun pulls out his phone to check, seeming to find it easily. “How come you found it so quickly, but I can’t find it at all–” Haechan stops mid-question as the answer becomes clear, and sighs, rolling his eyes. “She blocked me, didn’t she?”

“She definitely did.” Renjun confirms, and now it’s Haechan’s turn to receive a comforting backrub from Jeno.

“Fuck it,” Haechan mutters determinedly, picking his phone back up and opening his text conversations. “I’m texting her.”

haechan [12:43] unblock me on instagram

you [12:45] no

haechan [12:46] oh come ON what could you be posting on there

haechan [12:47] is it nudes… let me know i’ll make a burner acc

you [12:50] haechan you WISH i posted nudes publicly

haechan [12:51] i sure do.

haechan [12:51] would’ve made it a lot easier to jerk off last night

you [12:54] …if you ever wonder again why you’re blocked, just read this exchange over

haechan [12:55] COME ON UNBLOCK ME

you [12:55] no :/

haechan [12:57] fine. can you at least send one of your oh so elusive nudes

you [12:57] …

haechan [12:58] so i have something to remember you by

you [13:04] first of all: ew

you [13:05] second of all: we Iive together (unfortunately) so you see me all the time

you [13:07] third and last of all: i dont keep my nudes saved on my phone :/

you [13:08] try asking jaemin!

haechan [13:12] WHAT

haechan [13:13] JAEMIN?????????

haechan [13:13] NA JAEMIN?????

you [13:15] ??? yes?? is there another jaemin or smth??

haechan [13:17] WHAT

haechan [13:17] WHY THE HELL WOULD HE HAVE YOUR NUDES

you [13:18] LMAO byeee :)

haechan [13:20] YOU CAN’T LEAVE NOW WTF

haechan [13:22] ANSWER ME!!!

haechan [13:25] oh my god

haechan [13:27] ARE YOU SERIOUS 😭😭😭

“I’m gonna kill him,” Haechan mutters bitterly, and Renjun shoots him a bewildered look.

“Who are you killing?” Renjun asks, his question indirectly answered when you, Yena, and Jaemin round the corner, heading for their table. Everyone exchanges friendly greetings except for Haechan, who stares Jaemin down, the latter seemingly unaware of his new enemy. Yena doesn’t even stop to chat, dropping her bag by the spot Renjun’s made for her and making a beeline to get food.

“How was class?” Yangyang asks as he scoots over to make room for you; when you settle your bag in between Yangyang and Jeno to stake your claim on the spot, Haechan can’t help but shoot daggers at Yangyang, his earlier comment still ringing in Haechan’s head about falling to his knees because of you.

“Long,” You and Jaemin answer in unison, looking at each other and laughing, oblivious to the way Haechan’s eyes narrow at the male who’s placed his bag on the other side of Jeno. “Yeah… Professor Andrews would not let us get off-topic—no matter how hard we tried.” You groan, rolling your eyes.

“One of the main reasons education majors have it rough is because of Professor Andrews,” Jaemin gripes, and you agree with an emphatic nod.

“Okay, I’m hungry,” You complain, taking two steps towards getting your food before you pause, looking back at the table. “Oh, Mark! I saw Heoni earlier,” You say with a smile before a sympathetic frown appears on your face. “She was limping a little bit, so maybe you can do something nice for her, like carry her books to her next class!”

Mark’s eyes widen at your helpful suggestion, nodding distractedly and waiting for you and Jaemin to walk away before dropping his head to the table again and groaning.

“What if I broke something in her foot?” Mark worries, and Haechan notes that, yet again, Mark’s leaning forward has gotten pasta sauce in his hair.

“The can couldn’t have fallen on her that hard!” Renjun supplies helpfully, and Mark looks up at him with a forlorn expression. “It’s probably just sore right now; she’ll most likely feel better by tomorrow!”

“Yeah?” Mark mumbles, hope persisting even through his saddened tone.

“Yeah,” Jeno affirms comfortingly, and Haechan offers a sympathetic smile and a little pat on Mark’s hand.

Jaemin returns back to the table first, only having grabbed a bowl of noodles, and sits in his spot next to Jeno, ready to dig in. He, however, is forced to halt, forkful of steaming noodles halfway to his mouth, when Haechan scoffs.

“Is something wrong, Haechan?” Jaemin asks cautiously, clearly confused but not willing to make any wrong moves.

“Is something wrong, Haechan?” Haechan mocks Jaemin’s voice, ignoring Yangyang’s snort of amusement to continue on, “I can’t believe you’d even ask me—yes, something’s wrong!”

Jaemin looks from Haechan to his forkful of noodles, back to Haechan, and back at his noodles before sighing deeply and putting the forkful back in the bowl, looking up at Haechan.

“What is the problem?” Jaemin asks flatly, and Haechan huffs in disbelief.

“The problem? The problem is that you have my roommate’s nudes—you know…the girl you know I’ve been chasing after for, like, three semesters; does Guy Code mean anything to you?!” Haechan asserts indignantly, and Jaemin’s face scrunches up in confusion, looking around the table for assistance which, unfortunately, he doesn’t receive, given that literally everyone at the table is giving Haechan the same baffled look. Even Mark with the pasta sauce in his hair stares at Haechan with a deeply lost expression, oblivious to the way the pasta-coated strand of his hair starts to droop down towards his forehead.

“Haechan…what the fuck are you talking about?” Jaemin questions with a deadpan expression.

“What am I talking about, Jaemin?” Haechan sneers, and if he was glaring daggers at Yangyang earlier, he’s glaring grenades with the pins pulled at Jaemin, who sits in place, frozen with confusion.

Right on time, you and Yena both return to the table, both of you holding two hearty plates of food. “The lines were so long—what crawled up your ass and died?” You ask Haechan in confusion, and Jaemin turns to you with widened eyes.

“Why does Haechan think I have your nudes?” Jaemin practically pleads with you to get him out of this mess, and you look confused for a second before remembering your conversation with Haechan earlier and snickering.

“Haechan…you actually fell for that? Really?” You laugh, and now it’s Haechan’s turn to look baffled, his mouth opening and closing as he attempts to reply, but coming up short every time.

“You’re so mean,” Haechan finally manages to complain, and you shrug dismissively.

“Only to you.”

“So…I’m special?” Haechan asks, a little smirk already appearing, and you sputter out a laugh.

“Did not take you long to come back from that one, king.” You laugh, tacking on the nickname sarcastically, and Haechan grins.

“I’ll always come back for you,” He coos sweetly, and several gags of disgust sound out around the table.

“That barely makes sense.” You point out with a disdainful expression.

“It makes perfect sense.” Haechan replies, and you roll your eyes.

“Okay.” You agree.

“So it makes sense?” Haechan asks, and you stare at him with a blank expression.

“I will say whatever it takes at this point to get you to let me eat my pizza.” You say monotonously, gesturing to the slice you’re holding in your hand, and he nods in understanding and raises his hands in surrender, a pleased smile appearing on your face as you take a bite of your pizza. Conversation is made amongst the eight of you until Renjun turns to Yena with an abrupt change in conversation.

“You never got to tell us how class went!” He points out, and Yena looks up from her food to nod, swallowing before she speaks.

“I mean, it was okay; it was only entertaining because someone kept texting me play-by-plays of her sexting some guy.” Yena says with a sly smile as she stares pointedly at you, and you giggle mischievously, barely paying Haechan any mind when he cries out in pain like he’s been shot.

“You were sexting?!” Haechan squawks indignantly, and his question falls on deaf ears as you don’t acknowledge him.

“How did you get away with blatantly texting in class?” Jeno asks in confusion and you smile secretively.

“Sat in the back.” You explain.

“Communications major.” Yena explains for herself, and you snort in amusement. “We didn’t do much today as it is.”

“Who were you sexting?!” Haechan persists in a frantic hushed whisper, and you turn your attention to him finally with a somewhat exasperated expression.

“You don’t know him.”

“Try me!”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No, but here, I’ll throw you a bone; he was terrible.”

“Really?” Jeno’s instantly intrigued, and you struggle to hide your surprised smile at how eager Jeno is to engage in gossip or “girl talk.” “How bad?”

“Disastrous, Jeno.” You lament, and his eyes widen comically.

“I think it’s only fair that we, as your friends, get a similar play-by-play,” Renjun suggests, and you shrug and nod in agreement.

“I mean, there’s not much besides screenshots, and I’d feel bad for the poor guy if I showed you guys that, so I’ll describe as much as I can. He was the ‘I’m gonna rub your leg and kiss you on the neck. does that feel good’ type of guy, which, like…no, it doesn’t feel good, king. Firstly, this isn’t 4D texting…I can’t feel any of that. Secondly, I’m literally learning about assistive technology in classrooms right now… I’m not, like, finger-fucking myself in the back of Education 204.” You finish off your rant with a dramatic wave of your arm, and Jaemin snorts so hard in amusement that he has to scoot back, pinching his nose and exhaling in a wince.

“Noodle broth just went up my nose.” He gags, and you wince sympathetically.

“Sorry, Jaemin,” You mumble, trying to hide your amusement, and he sniffles twice, wiping his nose and mouth with a napkin.

“Another bad part was when he asked if you came,” Yena snickers, and you both start laughing, only for Mark to look between the two of you in a red-faced confusion.

“Are…are we not supposed to ask that?” Mark asks, worried, and you look at him with a slight shake of the head.

“You have pasta sauce in your hair.” You mutter, leaning over Jeno to get the red sauce out of Mark’s hair, and he frowns.

“Thanks. Why can’t we ask that?” He isn’t ready to drop it, you realize, Mark looking between you and Yena yet again.

“If you know she’s actually getting herself off, it’s different,” Yena explains, and you nod. “Otherwise, like if you just text her out of nowhere and you don’t know what she’s up to, you probably shouldn’t ask…”

“Y’know what’s crazy, though? He asked what I was up to, and I told him I was in class.” You recall slowly, marveling at his cluelessness.

“So he’s just dumb.” Yangyang says bluntly, and you open your mouth to protest, find no defense, and close it, drumming your hands on the table awkwardly.

“In his defense, I was kinda flirting,” You explain, jolting at Haechan’s dramatic wail of despair, rolling your eyes and continuing on, “and I know that a lot of guys aren’t good at responding to girls when they flirt.”

“Where’d you hear that?” Haechan exclaims defensively, and, instead of answering, you decide to make an example of him.

“Mm, I don’t remember, Haechan,” You lilt sweetly, and his eyes widen in surprise. “Maybe it’s kinda right, though?” You ask, cocking your head to the side in mock innocence, and you can watch his mind go blank, his eyes glazing over as he nods at you robotically, almost in a trance.

“Yeah, I mean—it might be right for, uh, some people.”

“Unbelievable,” Mark chuckles quietly, and Yangyang snorts.

“Very believable.” He counters, and you smile widely at Haechan as you lean forward, the male mirroring you instantly.

“Haechan?” You hum, and his eyes drop down to your lips. “Listen very carefully to what I’m about to say.”

“Okay,” He agrees, already hanging on to your every word.

“You are…the most…” You drop the sweet tone and return to your originally unimpressed affect, “easily manipulated person I’ve ever met.” Haechan blinks in surprise, looking at you with a slightly lost expression, and you can’t help but feel a little bad for how easily he caved.

“I–huh?” He mumbles, confused, and you look at him, genuinely in disbelief.

“At this point, I think your advisor encouraged you to keep studying Psych so she could study you,” You mutter, baffled, and Renjun snorts out a laugh into his fist.

“I have class,” Mark blurts out as he casually looks at his phone, now panicked, and practically falls over himself in his efforts to clamber out of the booth half of you are all squished into, tossing out apologies as he steps on and over people. “Sorry, guys!”

“Bye, Mark!” Several of you call out, and he turns to face you, waving with a smile.

“Shit, if Mark has class–” Renjun realizes aloud, and Haechan groans as the realization sinks in for him as well. “We gotta go,” He nudges Haechan, who frowns but ultimately gets ready with Renjun to leave.

“Are you coming?” Haechan asks Yangyang and Jeno, who shake their head.

“I have class in 30 minutes,” Yangyang explains.

“My class starts in two hours,” Jeno answers with a smile, and Haechan cocks his head to the side in confusion, opening his mouth to speak, but shakes his head dismissively, closing it.

Before leaving, Haechan looks at Jaemin, waits until they’re making eye contact, and points from his eyes, to Jaemin, to you, who hasn’t seen a thing.

“Stay away from her,” Haechan mouths at Jaemin with narrowed eyes before dragging a finger across his neck, much to Jaemin’s alarm. Renjun yanks Haechan away, but Haechan stares Jaemin down until the very last moment before they turn the corner.

“I’m begging you…please stop using me as a way to piss off Haechan,” Jaemin asks you with a half-worried, half-amused expression. “He’s insane and he will attempt to harm me.”

“That sounds personal,” You hum, and he splutters incredulously only to stop when you laugh and pat his hand comfortingly. “I’ll ease off of it, don’t worry.”

“Thank God, because I don’t need to be part of Haechan’s you-related hit list,” Jaemin replies casually, and you pause, your cup halfway to your mouth.

“…His what?”

“It’s a long story.”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

“Renjun, you get to bear witness to my newest plan,” Haechan states proudly, and Renjun just sighs.

“Oh, boy.”

“Aw, come on, can you at least act a little bit like you have faith in me?” Haechan nudges Renjun with his elbow, and Renjun sighs. Again.

“What’s the plan?” Renjun asks drily, and Haechan glowers at him before he launches into his plan.

“You know how we just did that reading on Pavlov and his dogs, right?”

“This is already going south.”

“Wha—why?!”

“You are not Pavlov. You are Lee Haechan, a sophomore in college who has done a fraction of the reading on Pavlov and a fraction of that fraction of the research necessary to conduct any worthwhile studies.” Renjun answers flatly, and Haechan just stares at him, shocked and wounded.

“Okay, that hurt–”

“I’m sure your ego will survive the attack.”

“–and I did do the Pavlov reading!” Haechan exclaims, indignant, but when Renjun fixes him in place with a flat and disbelieving expression, he starts to squirm. “I did it!” Renjun says nothing. “Okay, maybe I read most of it and left about five pages at the end.” Renjun blinks slowly. “…Okay, maybe…I read about three-fourths of the reading.” Renjun blinks twice. “Half?” Renjun raises an eyebrow. “A quarter?” His other eyebrow joins the first. “Okay, maybe I read the first couple of pages and got bored and fell asleep and woke up with a drool stain on the book that made one of the dogs’ face look all funny and it made me laugh.” Haechan finally confesses, and Renjun relaxes, patting his friend on the back.

“Good interrogation. You wouldn’t last a day in the CIA.”

“Can we get back to my point, please?”

“Go for it.” Renjun sighs, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head.

“I’m gonna listen out for every time she gets herself off,” Haechan’s voice is now a stage-whisper, pointing, for Renjun’s sake, in the direction of your room, “and every time she’s about to cum–”

“Do I really need to hear this?” Renjun squirms uncomfortably, and Haechan shushes him.

“Yes! Now listen. Every time she’s about to cum, I’m going to either ask her something through her door, text her, or even AirDrop her a picture of myself. That way she’ll get conditioned,” Haechan nudges Renjun with a secretive little grin, as if conditioning was the only term one needed to remember from Pavlov and his studies, “to associate me with her being turned on and then, when everything is said and done, the sight of me will have her practically flooding the place!”

“…It’s ironic that you’re a Psychology major.” Renjun muses after Haechan finishes speaking.

“Why?” Haechan asks, visibly confused.

“You’re easily the most insane person I know.” Renjun comments sadly, patting his friend’s knee sympathetically.

“Hey!” Haechan exclaims, offended, and Renjun shrugs.

“I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.” He says casually, and Haechan rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m testing out my theory today–”

“I am not going to eavesdrop on your roommate getting herself off–”

“–on a more minor scale,” Haechan finishes, staring at Renjun incredulously. “Why would I want you to hear what the girl I like sounds like when she cums?”

“If the past twenty minutes were indicative of anything,” Renjun shoots back, “I cannot trust you to think clearly or rationally.”

“Your words wound me, Renjunnie.” Haechan lets out a quiet, dramatic sob, and Renjun sighs again—“Renjun, do you want to go home or something?”

“I’m so glad you asked, because yes, I really do–”

“Shh, shh, shh! I’m gonna text her every time she laughs at something so she’ll associate me with happiness and laughter.”

“Um–”

“Um, nothing, it’s genius!” Haechan asserts in a hushed voice. Listening out carefully from his spot on the living room couch, he waits until he hears the telltale sign of your laughter from your bedroom and types out a quick text, hitting Send and placing his phone in his lap.

“…Did you send the text?” Renjun asks, and a ding! sound rings out from the direction of your bedroom, your laughter, which had started to taper off, immediately cutting short.

“I sent the text,” Haechan says with a grin, and Renjun nods slowly, pursing his lips.

“What’d it say?”

“I just said hi with a smiley face,” Haechan replies, and Renjun stills, staring at him blankly.

“That’s it?” Renjun says, clearly in disbelief, and Haechan looks at his friend, eyebrows raised and furrowed in confusion.

“Yes, that’s it? Short and simple?” Haechan explains, lightly rapping a knuckle against Renjun’s forehead and making hollow thunk noises with every contact. “Anybody home?”

“Stop worrying about who’s at home in my head and start worrying about who’s at home in your home, because from a realistic standpoint, she would have answered your oh-so-lengthy and thoughtful text by now.” Renjun snickers, and Haechan jolts as if he’s been shocked, reaching for his phone and unlocking it.

“She read it but no reply.” Haechan informs Renjun, who shrugs.

“Okay, well! Back to the drawing board–”

“I’m gonna AirDrop her memes.” Haechan decides, and Renjun stops mid-sentence.

“…You’re gonna AirDrop her memes?”

“I’m gonna AirDrop her memes,” Haechan confirms.

“I might have to tell Mark to pray for you.” Renjun says, pressing the back of his hand to Haechan’s forehead. “You’re clearly sick.”

“Would you hush! I just sent her the perfect meme.” Haechan states, staring at the status of the AirDrop process with a hopeful gaze that falls as soon as the word “Declined” appears on his screen. “No way,” Haechan chuckles, sending you the meme again. Less time passes this time, the “Declined” showing up almost immediately, and Haechan’s face falls. “Renjun, I don’t get it! It’s the perfect meme!” He complains as he leans over to show Renjun, who looks at the meme, then at Haechan, then back at the meme, then back at Haechan…then at the meme again for good measure.

“Haechan?”

“Hm?”

“This meme isn’t funny.”

“What do you mean, ‘this meme isn’t funny?’”

“Well, you know this meme?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s not funny. Hope this helps.”

“…It doesn’t,” Haechan grouches, pulling up another meme to send. “Okay, I just sent another one–”

“Haechan.” You call out loudly from your room, and the male in question freezes.

“She doesn’t sound happy,” Haechan says lowly, a tinge of worry in his voice.

“Gee, I wonder why. Surely it can’t have anything to do with your harassment–I mean, your experiment.” Renjun deadpans, and Haechan narrows his eyes at his friend who is not being very supportive right now.

“One day, you’ll have to answer for your treachery,” Haechan hisses at Renjun, who raises an uninterested eyebrow, before snatching up his textbook from the coffee table and pretending to read it.

“Haechan.” You’re standing in the living room with your hand on your hip, your phone in the other hand, and Haechan looks up at you as casually as can be, attempting to be the face of innocence. “First of all, you know that your book is upside-down, right?” You point out, already bored, and Haechan drops his gaze down to his textbook.

Ah. So it is.

“Secondly,” You continue as Haechan turns his book right-side-up, “I am going to say this once, and for your sake, you’d better not make me say it a second time.” You walk right up to Haechan and Renjun, barely sparing your mutual friend a glance to avoid making him feel as if he’s caught in the crossfire. “Please stop trying to AirDrop me.”

“It’s a funny meme! What, you don’t like memes?” Haechan exclaims defensively, and you blink twice at him.

“Haechan?”

“Hm?”

“That meme isn’t funny.”

“Ha! That’s what I said,” Renjun chortles to himself, and you do spare him a glance at that, a small smile quirking the corner of your mouth upwards.

“No, but seriously. Stop sending me AirDrop request after AirDrop request,” You warn him, and Haechan splutters indignantly as if he hasn’t just been sending you AirDrop request after AirDrop request.

“What is the point of sending me unfunny memes randomly, anyway?” You ask, confused, and Haechan sets his textbook down, closing the book just a second too late to avoid your keen eyes. “Did…did that say Pavlov?”

“Uh…no.” Haechan lies.

“Renjun, did that say Pavlov?”

“Sure did.”

“Thanks.”

“Traitor!” Haechan whispers, scandalized, in Renjun’s direction, and Renjun just shrugs.

“Haechan, you know that’s not how Pavlov’s experiments worked, right?” You say slowly, trying to hide your amusement.

“No, he does not know.” Renjun betrays Haechan once again as he doesn’t even look up, tapping on his phone. “He didn’t do the reading.”

“Is that why you texted me when I was laughing earlier?” You can barely conceal your amusement any longer, your bottom lip quivering as you try desperately not to laugh. “Haechan, by Pavlovian studies, wouldn’t that have just ruined the positive effect the laughing had and, if repeated, would’ve made me associate you with my happiness being cut short or ruined?”

“…Um.” Haechan’s got nothing. Maybe he really should have done the reading.

“You know what the best part of this all is?” Renjun remarks, finally amused. “She’s absolutely right. That was in the reading.”

“We did a brief unit on Pavlov in one of my Education classes,” You explain to Renjun. “We didn’t go that in depth, but we got the gist of it.”

“I think people forget that Education is actually kind of just… a different avenue of Psychology.” Renjun muses, and you nod emphatically, your eyes wide.

“I say that to my friends all the time!”

“Can you two stop flirting, for Christ’s sake?” Haechan snaps, sighing heavily.

“Hey, Haechan?” You say sweetly, and he looks up at you with a bewildered expression, never having heard you speak to him in that tone of voice. “It’s so fascinating that you’re a Psych major.”

“Really?”

“Yeah; because you’re in-fucking-sane.” You quip, and Renjun looks up from his phone immediately.

“I said that earlier!”

“Stop kissing her ass.”

“He’s closer than you’ve ever gotten,” You point out, and Haechan’s jaw drops in shock and offense.

“I can’t believe this.”

“You know, they have places for people like you, Haechan.” You say with a feigned concerned tone.

“Yeah, it’s called an asylum.” Renjun supplies helpfully (or traitorously, depending on who you ask), and Haechan gasps as you burst into laughter.

“Renjun, I like you. Haechan, are all your friends cooler than you? Can you move in and replace Haechan?” You ask Renjun, and he smiles goodnaturedly before patting Haechan’s shoulder, the recipient of the touch staring at Renjun’s hand with disdain before shrugging out of the gesture dramatically.

“I’m flattered, but my dorm setup is pretty cool.” Renjun explains, and you nod in understanding.

“Shame. Haechan, do you need any help with that?” You ask, gesturing to his textbook, and Haechan just stares between you and Renjun, unsure who’s going to attack first. “Hello? I can help you with your readings! I can read it out loud and show you the pretty pictures and you can help me turn the pages.” You smile sweetly at Haechan, and Renjun bursts out laughing.

“She’s good,” He snickers, holding his side as he laughs, and Haechan just glares at both of you.

“I’m going to my room.” He huffs before standing up, snatching his textbook off the table, and striding off to his bedroom with his nose in the air, literally, but not before shooting you both scornful glances.

“…Now what?” Renjun asks when you two are alone in the living room.

“Peace and quiet, Renjun,” You say with a relieved smile. “Peace and quiet.”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

“Yena!” You wail, throwing open your apartment door and shutting it behind you by lying against it and letting your weight push it closed. “Yena!” You cry again, toeing off your shoes after locking the door and shuffling sadly into the living room, where you see Jeno sitting on the couch, his legs propped up on the coffee table as he looks at his laptop. “Oh. Hi, Jeno. Is Yena here?”

“Hey! I’m not sure, actually. I got in about an hour ago and I haven’t seen her yet,” He answers, and you sigh loudly, collapsing on the couch next to him.

“Hi, sunshine,” A familiar voice sounds from behind you, and you groan, throwing your head back in anguish as Haechan walks around the couch, sitting on the other side of you.

“Dear God, not you,” You whine, and Jeno takes a moment to really look at you, the normally clueless male actually noticing something off in your tone.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jeno asks gently, nudging your knee, and your face twists up as you debate whether or not to tell Jeno—and Haechan, by proxy—what exactly you’re upset about. “If you wanna talk, I’m not busy,” He assures you, shutting his laptop and leaning forward to place it on the coffee table and wiggling his now free hands to demonstrate.

“…Fine,” You finally decide, shifting and angling your body towards Jeno, deliberately turning your back on Haechan, the sight of the male already pissing you off given the circumstances. “Jeno, you and I are about to become a lot closer as roommates and friends.”

“Oh, cool! Why’s that?” He asks curiously, and you pinch the bridge of your nose as you gather your thoughts to relay your tale of woe.

“You’re about to get exclusive girl talk gossip,” You explain, and his eyes widen in excitement and surprise, his whole body language shifting as he angles in towards you, now paying rapt attention. “You will not believe the fucking disaster of a hookup I just had.”

“Uh oh,” Jeno says, eagerly leaning forward to listen. Unbeknownst to you, given your deliberate obstruction of him from your line of sight, Haechan also leans closer to you to listen, eyes trained on the back of your head as if his visual of you could grant him real-life subtitles or something. “What happened? Who was it?”

“This dude from my Stats class,” You explain, waving a hand dismissively. “I don’t think you know him, so his name’s not important. It–oh, God, Jeno–first of all, he kept touching me like the dude was fuckin’ scared or something! Like I was a goddamn bomb he had to defuse or something, and super weak, soft touches does not a sexy hookup make.”

“Agreed,” Jeno nods in emphatic agreement. “You can’t be too scared; if you’re that scared, you should just not be hooking up.”

“Thank God you get it, because I’m about to scream. Jeno, it gets worse.” You say in a grave tone, and Jeno winces in anticipation, causing your fondness for the male to increase at his unexpectedly stellar gossip listening and contribution skills. “Jeno, I don’t think this dude had ever touched a clitoris before, let alone seen one.”

“No way,” Jeno gasps, and you can literally feel your anger subsiding somewhat as the male in front of you with a puppy-like excitement evokes an amused smile from you. “What’d he do?”

“At first he had trouble when he got his hand, like, down there, y’know?” You start to explain, and Jeno nods in understanding. “So I just let that go because the guy was clearly nervous in the first place, right? So I was trying to give him a chance to loosen up. So he starts, uh, rubbing, and…Jeno.”

“Yeah?”

“He wasn’t even close to anything of consequence. I couldn’t begin to wrap my head around what he thought he was doing.” You state, and Jeno snickers, evoking a chuckle of your own. “Then I get fed up pretty quickly of him rubbing my inner thigh in circles like he’s really doing something, so I shift my body under him so he’s closer to the right area–”

“Oh, that’s smart,” Jeno mumbles, impressed.

“Right? So I move myself and he moves his hand right back to where it was.” You say, thumping the couch once for emphasis that clearly lands properly as Jeno flinches at the sudden sound and movement. “So I got fed up again and grabbed his wrist and brought his hand, like, directly there, and even gave a little encouraging moan for when he was there—y’know, a little oh, yeah, right there, but…said all sexy-like, right? Jeno, guess what this idiot did.”

“He moved his hand away–”

“He moved his hand away! So I tried again, and he did it again! Like, how clueless can you be?! That’s like asking me where the bathroom is and I say, ‘Oh, it’s just down the hall to the right,’ and bring you to the door, and you…just turn and walk into the nearest wall and keep trying like a fucking Sims glitch or something!” You exclaim incredulously, and Jeno bursts into laughter, his eyes scrunching up in delight as he slaps his knee.

“I’m imagining it, and–I’m sorry, it’s not funny for you and he’s an idiot, but it’s such a funny mental image.” Jeno manages to get out, and you can’t even keep up your upset pout, your lips twitching with amusement from watching the infectiously happy male in front of you. “Okay, wait–okay. I’m good. I’m good now. Wh–what’d you do?” He finally manages to ask.

“I booed him.” You shrug, Jeno’s eyes widening as his jaw drops. “I literally booed him like it was Amateur Night at the Apollo Theater, and then I just left. If I’m not gonna cum—which I definitely wasn’t, if he had any say in the matter—then neither is he.” You huff indignantly, and Jeno nods in agreement, making you realize that he definitely helped you feel a lot better and more validated in your actions. You definitely didn’t expect the clueless, perpetually zoned-out Lee Jeno of all people to be an excellent contender for girl talk, but you won’t make the mistake of counting him out again. You’re about to thank Jeno for listening so well and making you feel better when Haechan speaks from behind you and you flinch hard, practically having forgotten he was still there.

“He definitely sounds like an amateur,” Haechan agrees, and you narrow your eyes suspiciously as you nod in agreement, waiting for the punchline to hit.

“…Yeah.” You say slowly, still watching Haechan skeptically.

“And an idiot.” He continues, and you grow even more suspicious.

“…Yeah?” You’re frozen watching Haechan, half-expecting and half-dreading the moment when he opens his mouth and makes everything worse—

“I definitely couldn’t relate to him,” He assures you with a small, confident nod and budding smirk.

“And there it is.” You sigh, both annoyed all over again and vindicated that you were right all along. “Haechan, now is not the time to gloat about your sexual prowess or whatever.” You warn him, holding up a hand to silence him and attempting to seek solace in Jeno, turning back to the other male, who is, to your surprise, shaking his head at Haechan as if also warning him against messing with you at the moment.

Impressed, you mentally give Jeno a point on a scoreboard of brownie points that you definitely just made up and will likely have no actual bearing on real life any time soon.

To your surprise, Haechan takes your hand in his, rubbing circles in the top of your hand that you reluctantly find soothing, and looks you in the eyes earnestly.

“Does the pretty girl not like being teased?” He asks, frowning in mock sympathy, and you scowl, yanking your hand free from his grip and standing up from the couch to head to your room. “Aw, come on!”

“Haechan,” You warn, whirling back around to face the aggravating Haechan and now worried Jeno, “I am annoyed, I am sexually frustrated, and generally not in the mood for your nonsense. Right now? Hell hath no fury like me. I’m going to my room.” You fire back at him, and he raises his hands as if in surrender.

“I was just saying–”

“I don’t really care what you were just saying.” You snap, and he licks his lips as his expression grows a bit more intrigued and his eyelids flutter slightly into the low-lidded sultry gaze Haechan has been known to give you, and you remember that he likes it when you’re like this. “You know what, Haechan? At this point, if you ever manage to get me in your bed and do as well as you’re always saying you can and will do, I will eat my words. I will have the fattest slice of humble pie. Okay? Until then, I am begging you to shut up.” You lecture, and Haechan just stares at you, mesmerized.

“…So I do have a chance.”

“Oh, my God, I’m going to my fucking room.” You growl, throwing your hands up in defeated frustration. “Thank you for your help, Jeno; it really means a lot to me.”

“No problem!” Jeno calls after you right before you round the corner into the hallway and make a beeline for your room, throwing yourself on the bed and screeching into your pillow, the fluffy down feather-filled cushion muffling most of your screams.

You lie there on your bed for the rest of the night, absolutely and painfully unaware of the plan Haechan is cooking up now that he believes he does have a chance with you.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

“Haechan.”

“Yes?”

“Are you sure this is even legal?” Renjun asks worriedly, stress shown plainly in every feature on Haechan’s friend’s face.

“Now you’re just being dramatic,” Haechan chuckles dismissively, looking around at his other friends for support and scoffing in surprise and disbelief when no one speaks up to defend him. “Some friends you all are!”

“I feel like as your friends we should be doing exactly what we’re doing right now and telling you this is a terrible idea–” Renjun persists.

“Okay, maybe if you walk us through the plan again, you–it…the whole thing won’t sound so…unhinged.” Yangyang says slowly, and Haechan hesitates, unsure of how exactly to take the seemingly supportive but somewhat backhanded comment.

“…Okay,” Haechan finally decides to ignore it and let it slide, feeling like he should keep his one vocal supporter—or, at least, not an active naysayer—on his side. “So, she has five different sex toys, all of which are stored in various locations in her room, which I’ve got written down on my phone.”

“This feels like a massive invasion of her privacy.” Mark groans, his expression anxious. “Yo, how did you even get this information?”

“I don’t even think I want to know,” Renjun sighs, his voice oddly muffled, causing Haechan to look over at him and roll his eyes at his friend, who’s buried his face in his crossed arms on the table.

“…Anyway…I’m going to sneak in and gradually hide all of her sex toys in my room, taking one every couple of days so she won’t catch on immediately.” Haechan explains, and Jaemin’s incredibly disapproving expression has Haechan rushing to defend himself. “I’m not gonna do anything creepy with them—”

“Is the ‘not creepy’ part happening before or after you literally steal her sex toys–”

“Renjun, let me finish! I’m literally just gonna hold onto them and wait for her sexual frustration to build to the point where she literally won’t be able to resist me anymore,” Haechan finishes proudly, and Yangyang, the very reason why the plan was even repeated, stares down at his folded hands blankly for what Haechan would consider an uncomfortably long time. “…So, Yangyang? What do you think?”

“I think,” Yangyang starts, “that…is a very bad idea. Zero out of ten, absolutely would not recommend it to a friend and, because you’re my friend, Haechan, I’m going to recommend, instead, that you do literally anything else at this point.”

“Look, I know it sounds bad, but I swear it’s not,” Haechan attempts to explain himself, but Jaemin finally pipes up.

“Maybe it sounds bad because it is bad, Haechan.” He says slowly. “The sheer fact that you gathered everyone—me, Yangyang, Renjun, and Mark—but neglected to include Jeno, your other roommate, speaks volumes.”

“Jeno has a big mouth.” Haechan mumbles petulantly, and Jaemin fixes him in place with a stern stare that gives Haechan infinitely more faith in Jaemin’s future in education.

“In this situation, I’m pretty sure that’s called a fucking conscience.” Renjun quips, lifting his head from his arms to glare at Haechan. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not, and I need you guys to have my back on this–”

“We do not.”

“–because I need someone to stand guard when I go in her room.” Haechan finishes, and Renjun bursts out into a fit of incredulous laughter.

“Absolutely not.” He says firmly when he’s finished laughing, and Haechan deflates, looking at Jaemin, who raises an eyebrow as if to say, what do you think? He turns his gaze to Yangyang who pantomimes wiping his hands clean and raising them in a manner that states, I want nothing to do with this. Haechan meets Mark’s eye and, at Mark’s uncomfortable silence, smiles hopefully.

“Mark? What about it?”

“I think…” Mark says carefully, “I would rather violate every last one of the Ten Commandments and directly flip off the sky.”

“You’re all horrible,” Haechan grunts in frustration, packing up his bag quickly and standing up, giving them all a disdainful glance before leaving the library.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

Later that day, after reworking his plan slightly, Haechan goes into your room and enacts Phase 1 of his new and improved, slightly less alarming plan: replacing the batteries of the sex toys with completely drained ones.

Thankfully for Haechan, only two toys take batteries and, conveniently enough, they’re the same batteries Jeno and Haechan frequently blow through for their gaming controllers, the discarded batteries collecting in a jar by the kitchen trash can until someone in the house has any idea of how best to dispose of them safely. Haechan performs the switcheroo and quickly exits the bedroom, making sure to scour the house for any replacement batteries you could use.

Over the course of two and a half weeks, Haechan has sabotaged two of your toys with dead batteries, hidden the charger that charges two of your other toys, and simply taken your last toy when it became clear to him that the toy doesn’t take any type of battery that you all have lying around the house and that the charger cord for that toy is frustratingly commonplace.

Haechan has also, to his delight, noticed a significant shift in your mood, your demeanor gradually becoming easily frustrated and more irritable, and he figures it’s only a matter of time before he has you beating down his door for some…sexual healing.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The tranquility of your time alone in the apartment is promptly ruined when Haechan unlocks the front door and comes in to see you on the couch, comfortably reading a book.

“My favorite roommate,” Haechan greets fondly, and you barely spare him a glance as you wave half-heartedly. “Wanna do me a favor?” You look back up at him, slightly amused at the prospect of wanting to do anything for him.

“Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is no.” You say nonchalantly, turning the page in your book.

“Help me dye my hair pink,” He continues on as if you haven’t spoken, coming to sit on the couch with you. You look up at him, blink slowly, and return your gaze to your book.

“Are you in the witness protection program or something?” You ask with a small chuckle, and he smiles, letting out an amused exhale.

“No.”

“Lose a bet?”

“No, I–”

“Are you having an impulsive episode? Are you prone to these often? As a Psych major you should know that these could be part of larger manic episodes, and–”

“No!” Haechan insists, cutting you off, and you place your bookmark in your book and close it, looking at him curiously. “I literally just thought I’d look cool with pink hair.” He mumbles, and you sigh.

“Let me see a picture.” You say, and he fishes his phone out from his jacket pocket, swiping a couple of times before he shows you a picture of a guy around his skin tone with a pretty shade of pink in his hair. “Oh. Yeah, that could look good.” You remark, somewhat surprised, and Haechan sits forward excitedly, already smiling at you.

“So you’ll help me?” He asks hopefully, and you raise an eyebrow in his direction.

“What’s in it for me?” You reply, and he grins, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Quality time with yours truly.”

“…How about something I actually want.”

“Fine,” Haechan frowns slightly, looking around the room thoughtfully. “I’ll do your chores for a week, not including dishes.”

“Mm…nope.”

“Aw, man! …Including dishes?” He offers, and you shrug, inspecting your nails.

“More.”

“You can have, uh…$30 worth of my meal points.” He tacks on in a last-ditch attempt, and your eyes widen as you turn to face him with a smile.

“Deal.”

“Really?” He asks happily, and you nod. “Holy shit.” He mumbles, surprised, and you snort, amused.

“I thought you wanted this outcome.” You point out, and he nods.

“I did—I do! I just…figured it’s better to expect disappointment.” He replies, and you shrug again as you nod in agreement.

“Fair.”

“So, when can you do it?” He asks, and you swing your legs off of the couch, planting them on the rug.

“When can you get everything you need?” You ask, and he sits back slightly to show you a black plastic bag with the name of your local beauty supply.

“I have it! I ordered the dye on Amazon and got the bleach from the beauty supply so someone could help me pick the right stuff.” He answers with a proud smile, and you can’t help but nod, impressed.

“Wow, you’re really being smart about this.” You praise him, and he practically preens under your praise, sitting up a bit straighter and everything. “Okay, go set up the stuff in the bathroom and let Jeno know we’re gonna tie up whichever bathroom you choose until we’re done.” Haechan nods eagerly and rushes off to do what you’ve asked, doing a little jump to click his heels together that has you biting back a laugh. “Haechan, change your shirt to something you don’t care about!”

“You got it!” He calls back, and you get up to do the same, placing your book on the coffee table.

Once Haechan has everything set up, you meet him in the bathroom, having changed into a random t-shirt you found in your drawer that’s already worse for wear with a couple of holes riddled in the fabric.

“Okay, how do you wanna do this?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“I mean, you can sit on the counter and I can sit in front of you?” He suggests, pointing at the chair you and Yena use to store your extra bathing supplies that don’t fit in the shower itself.

“Sounds good to me,” You agree, and he sets about moving your and Yena’s stuff off of the chair, setting it gingerly on the floor and carrying the chair over to the sink where you’re already sitting, stirring the bleach solution. “Sit,” You urge, gesturing at the chair in front of you, and he complies, settling down between your legs and pulling his phone out, scrolling through it absentmindedly as you start to part his hair and apply the bleach carefully and efficiently. “So, I never thought to ask; why’d you ask me to do this?”

“Well, I remembered when Yena dyed her hair towards the end of last semester and she said you helped her do it, so I figured I could try and ask you for help this time.” He answers, and you pause for a second, surprised he remembered.

“Oh.” You muse softly, and he hums in acknowledgment, leaning his head to the side so his cheek is on your inner thigh. You narrow your eyes suspiciously, but say nothing, continuing to apply the bleach, now going back to do his roots. It’s not until a couple of minutes later when Haechan nuzzles his cheek against your bare thigh and sighs dreamily that you decide to comment. “You sound like you’re in heaven.”

“Mm, if this were really heaven, I’d be facing the opposite direction right now, and we’d have a lot less clothing on.” He replies with a flirtatious lilt, and you scoff, bopping him on the head with the comb you’ve been using to part his hair.

“Pervert.” You scold, and he just chuckles, leading you to narrow your eyes and bop him again, the male startling this time and spluttering indignantly.

“What was that one for?” He asks with a laugh, and you huff.

“I didn’t even have to see you to know that you did that sleazy eyebrow thing that pisses me off.” You retort, and he chuckles mischievously.

“You know me so well.” His reply sounds smug, and you roll your eyes.

“Unfortunately. Now shut up and let me focus on this.” You mumble, tilting his head back slightly to check the front of his scalp. You can hear Haechan breathe in deeply as you lean over him slightly, his head turning inwards slightly when you release him, and his lips graze lightly against your bare inner thigh, the faintest of puckers giving you the suspicion it wasn’t just a little accident and making you freeze after you finish setting the timer for the bleach to sit.

“Did you just kiss my thigh?” You ask incredulously, and Haechan lets out what must be the guiltiest scoff you’ve ever heard.

“No?”

“You definitely did.” You insist, and he huffs, turning his head in towards your thigh even more.

“If I’d kissed your thigh, it would’ve felt like this,” Haechan counters, and leans in, pressing his parted lips to your inner thigh in a sudden, unmistakable kiss that has you gasping in surprise. His tongue peeks out to swipe along the skin before he sucks gently at the spot, releasing the flesh with a wet smacking noise (just in time, too, because you were about to let out a moan that would have made things awkward) and finishes, “and you would have known.” At your silence, he turns to look at you to see you still somewhat frozen in shock, his wet kiss mark practically burning a hole in your skin, and he smirks, standing up and pushing the chair out of the way to stand between your legs. “What?” He says softly, teasingly. “No witty remark? Nothing clever to say?”

“I don’t know–shut up–I didn’t like that.” You blurt out, caught off-guard, and he raises a brow in amusement.

“I don’t think I asked if you liked that,” Haechan points out, voice still soft as his fingertips ghost along your thighs. “So are you telling me you didn’t like it…or are you trying to convince yourself that you didn’t?” His face is dangerously close to yours at this point, his soft exhales fanning your lips with his warm breath, minty from the gum he’s chewing.

“I–you–shut up,” You mumble, moving to push him back with a knee pressed to his stomach. He catches your leg, one hand placed over your knee and the other cupping under your thigh right by your knee, and looks down at it then up at you with a small smirk.

“You know, I’ve always known you were stunning, but…” Haechan murmurs, moving his hand off of your knee and using the grip of his other hand to move your leg to the side, stepping back in between your legs. “I don’t think I ever noticed your eyes were this pretty.” He marvels softly, looking you directly in the eyes with a gaze both admiring and intense that unnerves you.

“…Is this how you flirt with everyone?” You reply, voice equally as soft but thankfully steady, your resolve having returned to you somewhat, and Haechan chuckles, looking down at his hand holding your leg before looking up at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Only the really pretty—stunning, actually—girls who, uh, live with me,” He replies, his hand slipping higher up on the underside of your thigh, “and who help me dye my hair,” Haechan leans in towards you, smiling when you don’t immediately lean back, “and who make very pretty sounds when I kiss them right here,” from his grip of your leg, the tip of his middle finger presses into the spot where his lips just were, heat flaring up there once more as you remember just how good his mouth felt on your skin.

“Oh,” You whisper, lost for words, and he chuckles softly.

“Oh,” He mimics you, leaning in even closer, and you’re a goner, you just know it, because he’s so close and maybe you do kind of want to know what kissing him would be like, and—

“Oh, my God.” Jeno’s cry rings through the house, and you both jolt in surprise, startled by your usually calm roommate’s sudden increase in volume. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”

You peek at Haechan who, you find, is already looking at you, his eyes trained on your mouth with a determination you don’t believe you can handle, so you push him back with your knee slowly, waiting for his gaze to drag back up to your eyes to speak.

“We, um,” You clear your throat and hold your phone up in his face, the timer now showing twenty minutes to go. “Have twenty minutes left.”

“I can think of what we can do to pass the time,” Haechan starts, a cocky little smirk appearing on his face, but you hold a hand up to silence him.

“Jeno is still screaming,” You point out, and Haechan cocks his head to the side, eyes widening as he realizes that Jeno is in fact still groaning and wailing in anguish. “So I’m gonna check on him. I’ll be back soon and if I’m not back, wash your hair out thoroughly and pat it dry with this t-shirt when that timer goes off.” You press the t-shirt in your hand to his chest and look at him seriously, trying to ignore the way Haechan watches you with his brows raised, smirking with his tongue pressed in his cheek.

Haechan nods in understanding and you mirror him, turning on your heel and heading to check on Jeno.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

“I’m back!” You say as you open the bathroom door to see Haechan sitting on the floor by the chair and scrolling through his phone. There are about five minutes left on the timer when you check and you sit in the chair, leaning over to check Haechan’s hair, which has lightened very nicely.

“Did you find out why he was screaming?” Haechan asks curiously, and you chuckle as you remember the conversation you had with Jeno.

“Someone spoiled some show he’s always watching, and now he’s super upset.” You answer. “It’s not funny, because he seems genuinely bummed, but it was just funny to me that, of all things, that set him off, y’know?”

“He is pretty chill,” Haechan seems to understand, amused, before his brows furrow in thought. “I’ll check on him when we’re done here; make sure he’s not about to Jeno Smash or anything.” He jokes, receiving an amused snicker from you.

“That would be nice of you,” You agree, removing your hands from his hair and tapping his shoulder. “Go wash it out.” Haechan obeys, standing up and heading over to the shower, and you scroll through your phone while you wait, trying not to stare at the way his back muscles move under his shirt, and how when he finishes, his head and shoulders are dripping wet, only further accentuating his back muscles. He turns and locks eyes with you, and you realize instantly that you don’t think you ever needed to see what Haechan looks like dripping wet for your mental health.

“…the t-shirt?” Haechan says, and you realize with a jolt that he must have been talking that whole time.

“Sorry, what? Spaced out.” You mumble, standing up and passing him the t-shirt just in case, and he smirks, stepping closer to you as he starts to pat his hair dry.

“I could tell; too busy checking me out to answer me, hm?” He teases, and you swallow thickly, attempting to come up with some sort of cover.

“Sorry,” You mutter, unable to come up with anything, and he raises a brow in intrigue as he finishes patting his hair dry, moving even closer to you.

“So you were checking me out?” He confirms, his eyes lighting up at your silence. “You can stop apologizing and make it up to me another way, y’know.” He offers, and you inch backwards ever so slightly, Haechan slowly but surely backing you up against the sink.

“I, um–” You stammer, truly and utterly lost for words as Haechan closes in, his damp, now blond hair steadily dripping water onto your bare legs. Each drop, lukewarm water now gone cold, is a reality check, the droplets traveling higher up your legs the closer he gets to you.

“You can make it up to me,” Haechan murmurs, placing his hands on the sink on either side of you and leaning in until your mouths are but a breath apart, “like this,” He breathes, and moves to connect your lips. You have about a millisecond to process that Lee Haechan is about to kiss you, and that you have less than a millisecond to figure out whether or not you want him to. His lips just slightly brush against yours before you can lean away slightly in favor of grabbing the t-shirt Haechan was using to dry his hair. You can feel Haechan watching you, his expression too amused and smug for your liking, but you refuse to look at him just yet, barely watching what you’re doing as you tousle Haechan’s hair, drying it some more as his hands busy themselves with gliding up and down your thighs.

”Stop touching me or you’re on your own for the rest of this hair adventure.” You huff, and he snickers.

“Fine,” He agrees easily—too easily—and moves his hands back to the counter top. Just when you’re about to look at him again, he leans in close to your ear, his smirk practically audible as he murmurs, “I know you liked that, though.”

“You’re annoying me,” You warn him, pushing him back slightly.

“I think it’s pronounced arousing,” He corrects you, and you blink at him impassively.

“No, I think it’s actually pronounced annoying,” You grouch, leaning over to reach for your blow dryer, looking back at him to shoot him a glare. “I can’t plug this in with you practically on top of me.”

“Then let’s stay like this for a moment,” Haechan suggests with a grin. “My hair can air dry.”

“No, it can’t,” You mimic his tone, pushing him back enough so you can plug your blow dryer in. “I have a book to get back to.”

“Fine,” He complies, tilting his head down so you can start blow-drying his hair. When you turn it off for a minute to check his hair, Haechan moves to say something, prompting you to turn it back on and blow air in his face. When you turn it back off, he tries again, only for you to turn it back on with a slowly growing smile. The cycle continues until you’re laughing too hard to work the buttons properly, Haechan’s frustrated expression slipping into an amused one as he watches your amusement. “I like seeing you smile. You have a cute laugh.”

You just side-step the laugh compliment, not agreeing with him, and pat his cheek twice. “You’d see it more if you weren’t so irritating.”

“All I do is flirt with you!” He replies defensively, and you look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Exactly. You’re a terrible flirt, you know.” You tell him, and he shrugs casually.

“Couldn’t be that terrible if I almost got you to kiss me earlier.” He points out with a cocky grin.

“That was a momentary lapse of sanity,” You defend yourself, Haechan snorting in amusement.

“Call it what you want, but I almost got a kiss,” He teases. You roll your eyes and pinch his ear, grinning when he yelps in pain, and guide him to sit on the chair, standing in front of him to start applying the pink dye to his now dry hair. You work in silence, Haechan scrolling through his phone until he nudges your hip with his phone to get your attention. When you look down at him, he shows you a video on his phone, letting you take it from his hand to watch as he says, “I thought you’d like this.”

It’s a TikTok of Brittany Broski, and your lips quirk upwards in amusement immediately, a laugh bubbling forth before the video ends, and you hand him back the phone with a smile on your lips.

“You thought right,” You say with a smile, and he grins up at you. “Brittany Broski is actually holding my mental stability together with old, weakening washi tape and Elmer’s glue.” You muse, and Haechan spits out a sudden, unexpected laugh.

“That doesn’t sound promising,” He snickers, and you shrug with a chuckle.

“It’s not, really,” You say honestly, and he makes a noise that should be sympathetic, but is too shaky from his laughter to sound as genuine as it should. “But she is doing her best, and that’s what matters.”

“Maybe I should study you,” Haechan jokes. “I could be your therapist for my Psychology final.”

“You’re aware that you’re, like, insane, right?” You laugh. “It’d be like the blind leading the blind.” You finish applying the dye and tilt his head this way and that to make sure you didn’t miss any spots with the dye, and pull off your gloves, throwing them in the garbage. “Okay, I’m all done with the dye,” You let him know, and he nods, humming in acknowledgment. You reach over him slightly to grab your phone, standing back up, and as you set another timer, you feel a slight tugging on your shirt. You peek down to see that Haechan’s finger is hooked in a hole on your shirt and he’s absentmindedly tugging as he scrolls through his phone with his other hand.

“Can I help you?” You ask, mildly amused, and he looks up at you, pulling his finger from the hole in your shirt, and grins widely.

“I don’t know,” He muses, slipping his phone in his back pocket. “Was just thinking.”

“I thought we told you to stop doing that.”

“Funny,” He replies sarcastically before he sits back in the chair and looks up at you. He really is painting an attractive picture, his legs spread as he watches you with a smile and an inviting look in his eyes. “God, I can’t take this anymore,” He complains, and all you get as a warning for what’s to come is the feeling of his hands sliding up the backs of your thighs, Haechan gripping your ass and pulling you in and down so you’re seated clumsily, one of his legs having wormed its way between yours and your chest pressing against his.

Your yelp of surprise rings out with his groan of satisfaction as both of you get the full sensation of your position, his firm thigh pressing against the seat of your shorts and your breasts pressed against his chest.

“Haechan, I’m gonna kill you.” You gasp, and he shushes you, hands moving up to grip your hips, fingers digging in with a desperation that takes you by surprise.

“You see how this…just feels right?” He murmurs, his voice strained, looking up at you, and it’s a testament to his looks that he can still almost pull you with his hair all slicked up and messy and not in the attractive way.

You don’t know about right, but it sure does feel good.

“Now if you just…kissed me,” He purrs, winding his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. You groan in protest, pushing his shoulders feebly, and he looks up at you, clearly unimpressed. “You know you could push harder than that. You like this, don’t you?”

“Let me go,” You huff, and he releases you immediately, raising an eyebrow when you don’t move yet. He winds his arms back around you and you splutter out a protest. “Haechan!”

“You literally didn’t move.” He points out flatly, bouncing his leg once experimentally and smirking when your hands fly to grip his shoulders, the beginning of a moan leaving you before you stifle it with an abrupt clearing of your throat.

“Haechan, I’m gonna leave.” You warn him, and he leans in, pulling you closer so you two are practically already kissing.

“Then go,” He breathes, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips as he waits before he shoots you a crooked grin and leans in to close the gap, your lips barely touching before your phone goes off with a notification and startles you out of your trance. “You’re such a tease,” He groans when you push yourself off of his lap, smoothing the invisible wrinkles out of your clothes before picking up your phone and checking it, trying to calm your pounding heart.

It’s just a notification from a food delivery app, but all this Haechan-induced stress has built up quite the appetite for you, so you decide you will take advantage of the little promo code they’ve offered you. Maybe a little…alone time, a nap, and a meal when you wake up. You’ve been pent up lately and haven’t had much time to yourself, not getting to get yourself off for over a week and a half.

“I’m not a tease, you’re just incapable of keeping it in your pants.” You shoot back, and he scoffs, standing up from the chair and moving over to you.

“I don’t think you even want it in my pants.” He counters, and you snort, amused.

“I ‘want it’ away from me.” You mumble, pushing him back with one hand. “Look, I’ll be back in a bit, probably around when the timer goes off. If I’m not, rinse it out.”

“Where are you going?” He asks curiously as you head for the bathroom door.

“Away from you,” You answer honestly, and Haechan makes a sound of hurt that you roll your eyes at before shutting the door behind you and making a beeline for your room to screech into your pillow. You lie on your bed for an uncomfortably short time before you hear your phone timer go off from the bathroom where you left it with Haechan, sighing and swinging your legs off the bed to head back to him. You take a breath to center yourself before entering the bathroom, and he’s just finished rinsing the dye out and is turning to face you.

“How does it look?” He asks, and you marvel at how…

“Good,” You answer, surprised at how even the color is and how nicely it flatters his skin tone. “Haechan, it looks really fucking good.” You say honestly, and he grins as he grabs the t-shirt to dry his hair. Something about the way his forearm muscles are tensing is too overwhelming and you find your gaze slipping to your phone which you pick up, immediately looking through your notifications.

“You look really fucking good,” Haechan replies, and you roll your eyes without looking up. A shadow crosses over your phone and a water droplet hits your screen, making you glower up at the grinning male in front of you.

“Haechan?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.” You scoff, and he groans.

“I was getting to you.” He laments. “I shouldn’t have let you leave the room earlier.”

“Let me–Haechan, you don’t ‘let’ me do anything,” You laugh incredulously. “As a matter of fact, I’m gonna let you finish your hair on your own. The hard part’s done; just blow dry it.”

“Aw, come on, I didn’t mean it like that,” He whines, and you shrug.

“Don’t care. Good luck with your hair.” You wave your fingers in a wave as you leave amidst his complaints.

Looks like your afternoon with yourself just got bumped up, you think to yourself as you head to your room and get to pulling out your vibrator.

“Huh…weird.” You mumble in confusion when it’s not where you usually put it. You go and look for your other toys only to see that all of them are completely drained and the chargers or replacement batteries are nowhere to be found. You work yourself up into a bit of a frenzy trying to find something you can use to get yourself off and stop abruptly when you realize that you have one very good lead as to what happened to them.

“I’m gonna kill him,” You spit, whirling around on your heel and storming out of your room to find the alleged culprit.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

“Lee fucking Donghyuck.” You stomp into his room, the door banging loudly against the wall from the force of your well-placed kick.

“Ooh, not the government name,” Haechan chuckles, and his nonchalance only enrages you further, the male in question lying relaxed on his bed. “And you kicked in my door? Someone’s not happy,” He sing-songs, and you could scream, you’re so infuriated.

“Shut the fuck up, you insufferable fucking twat, and give me my fucking sex toys back.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Haechan meets your furious gaze with an unbothered obstinance that, honestly, makes you understand why people kill people.

“I will kill you and they will never find your body.” Your voice is low and level, but you’re practically vibrating with energy stemming from your fury towards Haechan, your frustration about the fact that you so desperately want to throttle him even though he’d probably like it, and, if you’re being honest, arousal. You’re beyond sexually frustrated at this point, you have no form of release, and you’re not going to use your fingers like a fucking cavewoman; it’s 2022, for fuck’s sake.

It is also not helping matters at fucking all that Haechan’s position on his bed is disgustingly attractive and sickeningly inviting; his legs spread and his feet flat on the bed, he gives you a full view of everything going on between his legs, his light grey shorts leaving enough to the imagination to have your eyes greedily roaming his tan, bare thighs.

“Someone looks a little pent-up,” Haechan muses, straightening out his legs so they’re still spread somewhat, and you dig your nails into the palm of your hands, wrapping your thumb on the outside of your fist just in case you need to start swinging—which, if you two continue down this path, you will. He cocks his head to the side and it kills you how attractive he looks right now, his vibrant pink hair tousled off his forehead and you want to pull his hair so hard he moans—cries.

You meant cries.

“Maybe you should relax, practice some self-love.” The quirk of a smile at the corners of his mouth combined with the way he subtly flicks his eyebrow upward have you burning white-hot with rage as you storm over to his bed and slam his laptop shut.

“I can’t practice any fucking self-love, dipshit,” You sneer. “You’ve made sure of that.”

“Again—no clue what you’re on about.” Haechan must be a little bit smarter than you thought, because despite his sticking to his story, you do see a momentary flash of panic in his eyes.

“I will turn this room upside down and inside out until I find them. I will take a hammer to whatever fucking gaming console that is in the living room—“

“Okay!” He caves instantly, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, I have your toys.” He announces with a smug little smile that just makes you want to sock him directly in the jaw.

“You’re a fucking ass for taking them in the first place–not to mention a creep.” You scoff, placing one hand on your hip. “Now give them back.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” Haechan replies casually.

You blink twice. “What?”

“I don’t wanna give you your toys back.” He says simply, shrugging in such a lackadaisical manner that your indignation and fury are put on hold in favor of bewilderment.

“…Why not?” You reply, your tone far too flat for it to have any sort of inquisitive inflection, but it hangs in the air between you two, an unspoken demand for an answer.

“Did you know I’m bigger than the biggest toy you have?” Haechan inquires, his responding question a roundabout way of answering yours.

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know–I’m telling.”

“Well, stop it.” You huff, your mind making way for your frustration once more. He runs his fingers through his hair, and you falter for a moment, your mouth feeling drier than it was before. “Haechan, I don’t have all fucking day; give me my toys.”

“Or what?” He grins widely at you. “You won’t trash any of the gaming equipment because Jeno uses it too…so what’s your ultimatum, pretty?”

“Fine.” You practically snarl, breathing in deeply in an attempt to calm yourself somewhat. It fails. “I’ll just use your toothbrush,” You counter, smiling sweetly. “It’s the electric one, right? Interesting vibrations, but I bet I could make it work.”

“That’s the one,” Haechan confirms, his eyes now shamelessly eyeing you from top to bottom. “Do me a favor and don’t rinse it when you’re done.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“You brought it up!”

“Yeah, as a joke, you little freak!” You cry, exasperated.

“Whatever,” He replies, having the audacity to look somewhat put out.

“I can’t fucking stand you, Haechan.” You growl, pinching the bridge of your nose to offset the headache you’re sure is coming on.

“Careful–talk to me nicely if you want your toys back.” He reminds you.

Your eye twitches.

“Fuck being nice; I’ll sue you.” You blurt out, and Haechan laughs at that, only further enraging you.

“Oh, yeah? Sue me for what?”

“Theft!”

“Right,” He drawls as he finally swings his legs off of the bed and stands up. “How are you gonna look when you’re standing in front of a judge and jury, whining and pouting because of a…Large Purple Vibrating Jelly Dong with G-spot Stimulation?”

“Hey!” You squawk, offended. “…The large purple one doesn’t have g-spot stimulation.” Your defensive retort filters out as a sheepish mumble when you realize the absurdity of your words.

“Fun fact: mine is large.” Haechan starts, and you groan loudly, pressing your hands over your ears, attempting to drown him out to no avail. “It’s firmer than that weird fucking rubber, silicone shit they use, and I can definitely stimulate your g-spot.” He finishes proudly, and you blink impassively at him, willing yourself to calm down before you do something you’ll regret.

“You’re not purple,” You counter, “and you can’t vibrate.”

“Slap a vibrating cock ring on me and I’m vibrating, baby.” Haechan answers so smoothly that you wonder for a moment if he practiced this. “Thankfully for me, my dick is nowhere near purple.”

“Wish it was,” You mutter bitterly. “Maybe that’d knock you down a few pegs.”

“I still have a fully functioning mouth and set of hands,” He points out, unperturbed by the dismissive scoff you let out. “You can huff and puff all you want; I could have you losing your mind if you just gave me a fucking chance–”

“Why the fuck would I give you a chance, you fucking dimwit–“

“I could go down on you for hours–“

“You stole my fucking sex toys–”

“The ends justify the means–“

“This cannot be real. There’s no way this is actually happening. Maybe I’m having a nightmare.”

“This is very much real life,” Haechan snickers, reaching for your arm with his index and thumb out as if he’s going to pinch you. Your body reacts before you even know what’s happening.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Haechan, I could actually murder you right now!” You yell, smacking his hand away from you. You don’t stop there, pushing Haechan’s shoulders roughly so he falls back onto his bed, his eyes wide in surprise and, if you’re not mistaken, unadulterated enjoyment. You pause, your gazes meeting, and you have never seen anyone look at you with this much blatant desire, let alone Haechan. “Is this seriously turning you on right now?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about–“ He shifts slightly on the bed, adjusting his legs as if he’s uncomfortable. You look down at his lap and–

“Dude, your dick is hard!” You yell, and his eyes widen as he shushes you quickly, moving to sit up. “Don’t you fucking move.” You order, and he freezes, very visibly contemplating whether or not to listen, but he must finally see the very thin thread of your sanity pulled alarmingly taut because he obliges, reclining back into his somewhat vulnerable position.

You’re staring at Haechan, unmoving as you contemplate escalating to physical violence, and it hits you again, as he lies on his back on his bed and his eyes have this almost burning intensity to them as he watches you intently, that Lee Donghyuck is fine as fuck.

You’re talking, like, really fine–one of the finest guys in your year, for sure. You could even say top five, honestly–

…You want to fuck Haechan. You are coming to the full realization and stony, bitter even, acceptance of the fact that you are unequivocally turned on by Haechan and you would fuck him in a heartbeat if the circumstances were favorable for once. You could just be delirious, though; the pent-up sexual frustration building in you from this whole week could just be directing itself at the first attractive person you see, who happens to be the very cause of your lack of release this whole week. Now you’re angry again, but still turned on, but angry that you’re turned on, and this is such a whirlwind and your head hurts–

You haven’t moved or spoken in a while, you realize belatedly. You and Haechan have been frozen in the same positions, Haechan’s probing gaze somehow never faltering as he watches you tensely. You briefly scan your surroundings for something you can use to attack him without injuring anything but his pride, and your eyes land on his pillow.

Haechan follows your gaze, and his eyes widen in alarm. You both lunge for the pillow, and you realize a moment after you’ve grabbed it with one hand that Haechan seems very invested in keeping the pillow where it is, the male pushing it down in place. You yank the pillow roughly, shifting it a few inches, and keep yanking it as the two of you scuffle, both of you grunting with effort and muttering determinedly under your breath.

After what feels like ages of a stupid game of tug-of-war, Haechan seems to give up, shoving his hand under the pillow and removing it quickly, hiding his hand behind his back, but it’s too late–you’d know that specific shade of pink that you just saw a flash of anywhere.

“You kept my vibrator under your pillow?” You can barely contain your shriek of disbelief, and at least Haechan has enough self-awareness to look somewhat sheepish as he gets to his feet once more, now on the opposite side of his bed as an attempt to keep his distance. “Oh, my God.”

“Listen–”

“Under your pillow–”

“Keep your voice down–”

“It’s not like you’re gonna get fucked by proximity, or association, or osmosis or some shit–”

“Would you shut up?” Haechan hisses in the most irritated tone that you think you’ve ever heard him speak to you with, and it startles you into a stunned silence.

Haechan’s relief is short-lived.

“...You stole my vibrator…among my other toys.” You say slowly, staring him down and speaking as if he’s stupid. “You kept my vibrator under your pillow…and you think you get to tell me to shut up?”

“Look–” Haechan sighs, and now he’s pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No, you look, Mr. Sex Toy Stealer,” You snap irritably, and his jaw clenches as he visibly struggles not to roll his eyes.

You hate how attractive that was.

“I don’t know what you thought this was going to accomplish. Did you think this would work like–like…a kinky version of the Tooth Fairy or something? You’d sleep with my vibrator under your pillow and would wake up to your dick in my mouth or something?” You huff, brows furrowed in confusion and incredulity.

“No–”

“I’m talking, not you.” You glare at him, and he falls silent once more, visibly annoyed as he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

Again–disgustingly attractive.

“Anyway,” You continue, “I can’t even figure out, for the life of me, why you’re so hellbent on sleeping with me. You hype yourself up to me all the time, talking about your stamina, your abilities, the size of your dick–you name it, I’ve probably fucking heard it.” You throw your hands up in the air exasperatedly, pointing at Haechan with a smug expression. “You know what? I bet you’re bluffing.” You muse thoughtfully, and you have to take a moment to thank the powers that be for not letting you miss out on his incredible, albeit slightly unexpected reaction.

His eyebrows shoot upwards, eyes widen, jaw drops, and Haechan manages to look offended, incredulous, and pissed all at once. You never expected your jab to receive such a rewarding reaction, and now you’re curious to see how far you can push him until he…well, you don’t really know what he’ll do, which is exactly why you want to find out.

“I am not bluffing.” Haechan says slowly, staring you directly in the eyes with a certain unnerving darkness to his gaze that you’ve never seen from him before.

“Mm, you probably are.” You hum thoughtfully, starting to walk around his bed towards him, Haechan only watching you with his same unreadable expression as you get closer and closer.

“Watch it.” He warns you, and your devilishly gleeful grin widens.

“Or what, Haechan?” Your voice is dangerously quiet to Haechan, sweeter than he’s ever heard you sound, and among his alarm and frustration with you, he feels his cock stirring in his pants with intrigue and arousal. “What is Mr. Pencil Dick-”

“Hey–”

“Sex Toy Stealer gonna do?” You’re even closer now, voice even softer and sweeter than it was before. Haechan is glowering down at you and you’re smiling sweetly at him, your mutual switch in demeanors not lost on the both of you.

“Pencil Dick?” Haechan scoffs, and you shrug. “You’ve literally seen my dick print.”

“So?” You reply casually, to which Haechan rolls his eyes. “That’s just a print. Could be a trick of the light.”

“You know good and well it’s not just a fucking print–” He growls, and you raise your hands in mock surrender.

“Fine!” You seem to acquiesce, and Haechan raises a brow, staring at you as if waiting for the punchline to hit. He is not mistaken. “Big or not, you have to know how to use it, and you…don’t seem like you do.” You’re blatantly lying now; Haechan does seem more than capable of using his dick, but you need to get under his skin the way he does yours.

“Fine.” He replies with an air of finality, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Fine?”

“You want your toy so bad?” He replies, wagging it teasingly in your line of sight, and your eyes narrow.

“Duh.”

“Come over here and take it from me.” If you were focusing on anything other than the hot pink vibrator in his hand, you’d have noticed the dangerous glint in his eye along with his challenging tone.

“Fine.” You scoff, striding over to him so you two are practically face to face. You reach for it, your hand level with his shoulder, and he moves it just out of your reach.

“Try again.” He sing-songs, and you growl under your breath, reaching for it again only for the same thing to happen. “Come on, pretty girl, I thought you wanted it?”

“Haechan, stop being an asshole and give it–” You huff, lunging for it another time, Haechan now holding the toy over your head just out of reach. “God, you act like you’re so fucking tall, dude. You’re fucking 5’9” on a good day.” You snap, and he glowers down at you, backing away with the toy as you follow, continuing to attempt to grab it. You’re under the impression he’s just being an ass by walking away from you, but he makes his intentions clear quickly as he wraps his arm around your waist and spins you around, pinning you up against the wall by his bedroom door without even breaking his stride. With the hand holding your vibrator that he doesn’t have placed on the wall to the side of your head, he pushes his door shut with one hand, the telltale sound of the door clicking alerting you to just how alone the two of you are now.

In the whirlwind of events that just happened, the only constant you can track is that Haechan’s eyes never once left you, the male staring you down intently with all the determination of a predator about to strike.

“All that shit you said to rile me up was cute, pretty girl,” Haechan says slowly, every syllable hitting you lower and lower on your body until they’re sending jolts of desire directly to your core, your throat refusing to cooperate as you attempt to swallow before meeting his gaze. “I wonder if you’ll think it’s cute when I have you crying and losing it on my cock in a moment.”

“I definitely would be crying if I had to teach my aggravatingly flirtatious roommate how to use the alleged monster cock he’s got in his pants,” You retort, and by the way Haechan’s eyebrows shoot upwards, you get the feeling he didn’t appreciate that line too much.

So you continue.

“As a matter of fact,” You muse thoughtfully, struggling to hide the glee on your face at the sight of an extremely pissed Haechan, “I bet any tears I would cry would be in solidarity with all the gorgeous, gorgeous girls that you couldn’t make cum–”

“If you’re so sure I can’t make you cum, then let me try.” He proposes, a fire alight in his eyes that you find incredibly attractive and somewhat unsettling. “Otherwise, you’re afraid to put your money where your mouth is.”

“Mm, no thanks; I hate being edged.” You hum dismissively as you look down at your nails casually, and Haechan’s responding chuckle is filled with absolutely bitter amusement that has something very sadistic purring in satisfaction inside of you. “Plus, you have all of my toys, so I don’t even know how I’d get myself off.”

“Guess you have no other options then.”

“Guess I’ll go buy more sex toys.” You look up just in time to catch his reaction, Haechan’s frustration plainly displayed on his face, but even as he huffs and puffs about how difficult you’re being, he can’t stop staring at your mouth no matter what he does. A smile quirks the corners of your lips upwards as the realization hits that Haechan is almost entirely mesmerized by you right now, his lust and agitation battling it out so visibly that it makes a fascinating spectacle.

“If you seriously go buy another sex toy, you’re going to look like the biggest, most stubborn brat–”

“Speaking of looking, Haechan, you look like you wanna kiss me right now,” You taunt, a breathless laugh escaping you, and he glares down at you with a deeply annoyed expression, and you suddenly get it when he tells you that you look hot when you’re mad, because, fuck, he looks good right now.

“Shut up.” His reply is curt, more brusque than he’s ever been with you, and your eyes widen as a grin overtakes your face.

“Oh, wow, you do! Oh, you wanna kiss me so bad.” You taunt, leaning forward and staring at his lips the way he’s been doing yours, nibbling your bottom lip as you look back up at him. “Don’t you, Haechan?”

“I’m warning you,” Haechan replies slowly, deliberately, as he watches your lips with all the intensity and focus of a hawk. “Don’t play with me like that.”

“Who’s playing? I’m stating facts,” You counter as innocently as possible. “I’m standing here. Fact?” You ask, waiting for Haechan’s response. When he clenches his jaw and looks away from you, you tsk disapprovingly and hold his chin between your index and thumb, turning his face back so his gaze is on you. “This is the part where you answer, Haechan.”

“…Fact.” He says reluctantly, and you smile, nodding and moving his chin so he’s nodding as well.

“Good. You have my vibrator in your hand. Fact?”

“…Fact.”

“Good. You have me pressed against this wall. Fact?”

“Fact.”

“You’re getting it!” You say as sweetly yet patronizingly as you can manage. “You want to kiss me. Fact?” At his silence, you raise your eyebrows, rocking onto the balls of your feet to get in his face even more. As if he’s in a trance, his lips gravitate towards yours so suddenly, you’d swear you were both magnetic. A quick glance up to his face shows that his eyes are heavy-lidded, the visible parts trained on your mouth, and you lean in just a bit more, like you’re going to kiss him, making him move to meet you and fall right into your trap of following your lips even as you sink back down onto your heels. “Fact?” You repeat, and he rolls his eyes before his lids flutter shut, reopening them to stare you down with a dead set expression that thrills you. “Haechan.”

“Fact,” He practically spits out, and you laugh, delighted.

“You wanna kiss me so bad, it’s messing with your head.” You coo condescendingly, and Haechan groans, clearly aggravated. “Fact?” Haechan doesn’t answer, and you pinch his chin again, preparing to turn his head towards you again.

Everything happens very fast. Haechan sucks his teeth, mutters, “Fuck it,” under his breath, smacks your hand away from his face but grabs your wrist, yanks you towards him, and seals his mouth over yours in a heated, all-consuming kiss. Your attempt at a gasp is swallowed by his dominating lips as they move confidently against yours, his lips warm and smooth as they slot between yours and suck on your bottom lip.

“Haechan,” You moan into his mouth, and he groans in satisfaction, his free arm winding around the small of your back to pull you flush against him, the sound of your vibrator thudding to the floor barely registering as his lips greedily steal your every attempt to breathe. You’re left whimpering desperately for an opportunity to take in a gulp of air, and Haechan finally has mercy on you, breaking the kiss momentarily to allow you to breathe, which you do gratefully, breathing in deeply as he studies your face, your glistening, pouty lips, and your wide-eyed expression, your pupils blown wide with pure desire as you stare back at him. His gaze drops back down to your lips and he subconsciously licks his own, his grip tightening around your back and evoking a small whine of longing from you.

“Pretty girl,” Haechan murmurs, his lips teasing your own apart, “I’m gonna fuck you senseless.” The words leave his lips oddly like a promise, spoken with such determination that you swallow thickly, one hand coming up to clutch at his arm before you summon the energy to poke the bear once more.

“Are you sure you’re capable of that?” Your words come out breathier and huskier than you expected, your voice somewhat stolen by the passion of Haechan’s kiss, and he raises his brows, poking his tongue in his cheek before grinning and leaning back down to recapture your lips with his own. He nips and sucks and licks at your lips, his tongue parting the seam of your lips without even giving you a choice and flicking teasingly at your own, only pulling back so he can suck on your tongue or bottom lip.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” He grunts, whirling you two around and walking you towards his bed. When the backs of your legs hit the foot of his bed, his hands drop to your hips so he can lift you slightly and half-push, half-toss you onto the bed. You barely make it up from the initial bounce before he’s on top of you, his warmth and scent–which, you finally note, is intoxicating–enveloping you as he rests on top of you. “That you cry.” He finishes the sentence you didn’t know was incomplete in the first place, and a shudder runs down your spine when his spit-slicked lips kiss down to your chin, jaw, and neck, sucking and nipping harshly enough to have winces and moans leaving your lips freely.

Haechan continues to mouth at your neck while his hand slips between you two and runs up your side, cupping your breast over your shirt and squeezing, relishing the moan you let out. His lips attack your own again as his hand snakes up your shirt and strokes at the skin left exposed by your bra, his fingers pressing experimentally into the plushy flesh as his thumb swipes over your nipple, teasing the hint of the pebbled bud peeking through your bra.

Without another word, he sits up slightly, using both hands to push your shirt up and, once it passes your breasts, he switches to pulling it with quick yanks, not even giving you a chance to help before the shirt is hurriedly removed from your body. Haechan reassumes his position on top of you and attaches his lips to your neck, sucking and licking at the skin as one hand gropes at your chest eagerly but skillfully, knowing every way to knead and caress, every opportune moment to tug at your nipple through the fabric, and you have to give him props for that–if the warmth spreading throughout your underwear indicates what you believe it does, his ministrations so far have your underwear absolutely soaked with arousal.

His mouth travels lower and lower until he’s kissing the swell of your breasts, sucking wet patches of saliva onto your skin as one hand caresses your breast and your side. His touches are so distracting that you don’t even notice when he slips his hand under you to unhook your bra, the garment loosening out of seemingly nowhere before he’s pulling it off of you, thankfully more gingerly than he’d removed your shirt, and his lips are on your breasts without another moment of thought.

“Fuck,” You whisper in surprise as Haechan attacks your chest with wet kisses, surprisingly harsh sucking, and slightly gentler nipping. You can feel your eyes trying to roll back in your head from the pleasure, but, if you’re being honest with yourself, you want to watch him, Haechan’s full pink lips making for a very pretty picture as he sucks at your skin. He kisses around your areola, dragging the tip of his tongue around it teasingly as he watches your reaction. “Stop teasing,” You grunt, annoyed, and he chuckles.

“Just showing you what your toys could never do,” He retorts, and your comeback dies on your tongue in favor of the moan that bursts through when his lips fall to your nipple, the male swirling his tongue around the bud and sucking intently. The involuntary swear that falls from your lips only spurs Haechan on more as he shifts his weight slightly so he’s lying mostly beside you, one hand splayed across your stomach before he moves it downwards, fingers dragging so heavy-handedly that, if he had longer fingernails, you would see scratch marks beginning to form. His every move screams his presence, as if he’s reminding you that this is him doing this, no one–or thing, you suppose–else to give the praise of such pleasure.

As he sucks and licks at your breast, his hand slips under the waistband of your sweats, teases along the hem of your underwear, and dips lower to stroke languidly along the seat of your very damp underwear, even pushing in over your entrance to give you the strange but not undesirable sensation of his fingers, surrounded by the warm, wet fabric of your underwear, pushing into your entrance shallowly. A sharp gasp leaves you, and Haechan chuckles, his teeth biting down gently on your nipple as he grins.

“You like that, huh?” He muses, and you bite back the moan you want to let out as you remember he’s trying to prove a point and that you’d rather not make his job this easy. “Getting quiet on me all of a sudden?” He murmurs softly, too softly given the context. Your suspicions are confirmed when he, again, moves more quickly than you’re able to comprehend in the circumstances; he shifts back on top of you, maneuvers his fingers past your underwear, switches to suck on your other nipple, and starts to trace up and down your slick folds, finally pushing into you and providing you with some relief.

“Holy shit,” You gasp, your hips moving of their own accord as you try to lift yourself into his touch.

“You can keep that pretty mouth quiet all you want–I’ll just listen to how loud your wet little pussy is.” Haechan says smugly from around your nipple, and you’re about to fire back a retort, but he sucks particularly roughly on your nipple and starts to fuck you diligently with his fingers, the wet sounds of his fingers moving in and out of your core making your face burn with embarrassment at how needy you feel for him. “Try and stay quiet now,” He mumbles, the message seemingly for you but delivered almost entirely to himself, and he’s right–it’s almost impossible for you to hold in your whimpers and moans, his name even threatening to slip from your lips, but you thankfully hold that back.

When a swear almost makes its way out, you clap your hand over your mouth, and Haechan glares up at you with an affronted expression, his hand moving from your breast to grab the wrist of the hand covering your mouth and pin it beside your head, shooting you a challenging look that makes you think that maybe you shouldn’t try that again.

“God, fuck,” You groan, unable to hold it in any longer and, as if he’s rewarding you, Haechan speeds up the pace of his fingers, letting you buck your hips into his hand as much as you’d like as his palm presses against your mound, providing delicious pressure and relief to your clit as your hips buck and roll against his hand.

“That’s it,” He coos, your nipple slipping from his mouth in favor of praising you, and it takes an impressive amount of willpower not to melt at the positive remark, your eyes shutting tightly as that tugging sensation in your lower abdomen starts to build, your climax approaching quickly.

A low whine builds inside of you, increasing in volume the closer your climax gets, and when it hits, the dam bursts, and a number of sounds emerges from you, stuttered gasps and cries fighting to leave you first while your brain tries to keep them all inside, trying and failing not to give Haechan the satisfaction of hearing how much pleasure he’s giving you.

“See? Now, didn’t that feel nice?” Haechan lilts tauntingly as his hand releases your arm he’d pinned down, and your eyes narrow in his direction.

“Shut up, Haechan.” You grouch. “All you proved was you know how to finger someone.”

“Which is foreplay,” He points out. “Which most guys are shit at.”

“Guys are also shit at the actual fucking part.” You reply, surprisingly composed considering the foggy clouds of arousal swimming in your head right now.

“Fine,” Haechan counters, reaching down to untie the string on his sweats, and you swat his hand away with a judgmental look. “What now?”

“We’re not doing it this way,” You laugh, and he looks down at you, mildly baffled. “I’m on top. You’re only replacing my sex toy, remember?” You remind him, and he rolls his eyes before rolling off of you and onto his back.

“Kinda forgot about that,” He admits. “That was–you were–you are–so hot, it just slipped my mind.”

You let out a huff of amusement and sit up, preparing to straddle him even as he sits up and leans into another kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that refuses to let you catch a breath, Haechan cutting off your weak moan as you attempt to pull off to breathe by cupping the back of your neck and pulling you down into another kiss.

“God,” You finally gasp when he releases you (or, really, you manage to release yourself) from the kiss.

“It’s pronounced Haechan,” The male under you replies with a cocky grin, and you shoot him an unimpressed look.

“First of all, you wish. Second of all, hurry up,” You huff, sitting back on your heels as he maneuvers himself into a sitting position, his back against his headboard. “Much better,” You murmur, scratching under his chin with one finger, surprised when he shudders in pleasure at your act that was supposed to be condescending. “Interesting,” You muse to yourself, and he glowers at you before pressing the head of his cock against your entrance, provoking an immediate gasp of surprise from you.

“You ready?” He mumbles, barely looking up at you as he studies the way his tip looks pressing against you, changing his grip so his cock is leaning more towards his stomach and using one hand to guide your hips so you’re rocking against his length, coating it with your arousal.

“Stop teasing,” You gripe, and he flicks his gaze up to you, studying your expression before looking back down. “My toy would never do this to me.” You get his attention at that, his glare up at you thrilling you as he sucks his teeth and positions himself at your entrance again.

“Your toy also wouldn’t know how to fuck the attitude out of you.” He counters, and enters you before you can reply, slowly but steadily filling you up. You hate to admit it, but he feels amazing, the sensation of his length gradually pushing into you sending pleasure signals all throughout your body and fogging your mind even more than it already was. “That’s what I thought,” He says, sounding smug, and you snap out of whatever reverie he placed you in to realize that your hands are gripping his shoulders, your head tipping back from the pleasure, and you struggle for a moment, but manage to compose yourself.

“Didn’t moan,” You retort, and he leans forward, trailing kisses up your neck.

“You will.” He sounds so certain that it almost frightens you, his hands moving to help guide you up and down his length, the feeling of him moving inside of you so overwhelmingly pleasurable that your eyes almost roll back in your head.

“Won’t,” You breathe, and he just shoots you a challenging stare. He starts to thrust his hips up, gradually fucking up into you, and you grit your teeth, struggling not to cry out at how good he feels. His every thrust is powerful and driven, his desire to prove something to you evident in his every move, but you can sense his growing frustration as you refuse to make any sort of pleasure-filled noise, the only acceptable sounds you’re allowing yourself to make being stuttered breaths.

“You know it feels good, stop being difficult,” He groans, dragging his teeth down your neck, over your collarbones, and to your chest, where he kisses, licks, and sucks at the skin, hands leaving your hips to press your breasts together and in his face, his lips immediately wrapping around one of your nipples and sucking.

“‘M not being difficult,” You grit out, and he rolls his eyes at you, releasing your nipple with a wet pop.

“Then tell me how good it feels,” He urges. You shake your head.

“Your ego’s big enough.”

“Tell me.” He presses.

“My toys don’t need their little egos fluffed,” You taunt, leaning down so your lips are almost touching. “I thought you were better than them?”

“God, you’re so–I can’t–fuck,” He stammers, his head lolling back onto the headboard, and you grin smugly.

“Haechan,” You purr, deliberately clenching around him and relishing in the choked gasp he lets out. “Are you gonna cum?”

“No,” He groans, but his body tells a different story as his thrusts up into you grow unsteady and erratic.

“If you cum before I do, you’re no better than my toys.” You tease, and he growls under his breath, stilling himself as he’s buried inside of you and breathing shallowly, his chest heaving as he, you assume, restrains himself from finishing. He lifts his head up from leaning back against the headboard and his eyes refocus on you, still hazy but there’s a steely resolve behind them that’s both impressive and intimidating. “All good now?”

“Yeah,” He exhales, and you tilt his chin up so he’s looking directly at you.

“Good boy,” You coo condescendingly, and nothing in the world could have prepared you for his reaction. His eyes roll back in his head, fingers grip your hips tighter, a tremor visibly runs through his body, and he groans loudly in ecstasy. “You’re a little slut for praise,” You marvel, and his gaze snaps back onto you immediately, closing his eyes and chuckling in a way that you both did not expect and do not believe bodes well for you.

“That’s it.” He looks up at you and pulls you off of him, setting you down next to him.

Haechan moves you the way he wants quickly—and, if you’re being honest, a bit roughly—so you’re on your back with him settled between your legs, and he lifts your legs so your knees bend and pushes them towards your chest, letting you hold them in the air as he strokes the underside of your thighs in rhythmic motions.

“You’re such a little brat,” He huffs, still sounding amused, and you smile up at him with a look of faux innocence.

“If you can’t handle it, you can give me my toys and I’ll be out of here.” You bite back with a sickly sweet smile, and he chuckles.

“You know what I think is the best part of fucking with brats?” He asks as if you hadn’t even spoken, and you roll your eyes.

“What?” You ask, and he leans over so you two are face to face, speaking his next words slowly and carefully.

“Breaking them.” The look in his eyes silences you, the intensity more than a little intimidating, and he studies your face before grinning and leaning back up, pushing your knees as close to your chest as you can handle. “Hold them.” When you comply, he mirrors your feigned sweet smile from earlier. “Good girl.”

“Oh, fuck off,” You snap, and he raises an eyebrow.

“I could fuck off right now, actually.”

“Great! I’ll just use my toys.”

“You’re not getting those back.” He says simply, and you splutter indignantly.

“What the fuck do you mean by I’m not getting them back?” You demand, and he stares at you blankly.

“I mean that you’re not getting them back. You have me now,” He answers you, smiling and patting you between your legs, his smile widening when you jolt from the sudden attention your clit receives from the less-than-gentle pats.

“I don’t want you,” You retort, watching as he lowers himself so his face is level with your body. “I want my toys,” You whine, and he mimics your whining tone, rolling his eyes.

“Too fucking bad.” He counters, and his mouth is on you before you can think of anything to say back. A whine escapes you immediately when he looks up at you with a challenge in his eyes, his mouth sucking and kissing at the fleshy folds just below your clit, and he makes a mini-spectacle of letting his tongue loll out, the pink muscle warm and wet against your core. He drags his tongue up your folds repeatedly, his actions getting heavier and more forceful when he nears the underside of your clit to deliver an almost electric jolt of pleasure to you.

It’s safe to say that you’re probably about to lose your fucking mind.

Haechan laps at your pussy greedily, fingers digging into the underside of your thighs roughly as he pushes his face between your legs forcefully, and his lewd moans of enjoyment have your face blazing with heat, suddenly deeply nervous as you remember Jeno’s one door down and, if he’s not wearing headphones, can probably hear you two. Two fingers press at your entrance, sliding in with ease, and you cry out weakly, your grip slackening on your thighs as you start to struggle in holding yourself open for the male currently devouring your pussy.

“You said you don’t want me, but that’s not true, is it?” He asks tauntingly, his fingers pumping in and out of you quickly, and you look away, embarrassed by how loud the wet sounds are of him touching you. “This pretty little pussy wouldn’t lie to me.” He coos almost fondly, leaning in and puckering his lips around your clit to give it little kisses that he has to know are only riling you up further, and sucking on it gently.

“Stop teasing, you assho–oh, fuck,” You inhale sharply when he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks hard, letting it slip from his mouth with a wet sound before spreading your lips and flicking your clit back and forth with his tongue rapidly, groaning in satisfaction as he watches your eyes glaze over with pleasure, your jaw dropping in shock. “Fuck,” You gasp, breathless as his fingers hook inside of you, the pads of his middle and ring fingers fucking directly into your g-spot, and he removes his mouth from you with a sloppy wet sound and sits up slightly, looking you directly in the eyes as he spits directly on your pussy, grinning when you gasp in surprise and mild disgust.

“This pretty little pussy belongs to me now,” Haechan grunts.

“You wish,” You scoff defiantly, and he just shoots you a charming but wicked grin.

“You’re granting my wish right now.” He counters, and you prepare to snark back at him, but he delivers a sharp, abrupt slap to your pussy, causing a yelp of pain, shock, and, if you’re honest with yourself, arousal to escape you. “You like that, don’t you?” He murmurs with a devilish grin, smacking it again, and you whine, moving to close your legs defensively, but he swats both of your inner thighs as a warning, and you hesitantly keep them open, jolting as he slaps your pussy again. “Tell me it’s mine.” He orders.

“Nope,” You say stubbornly. Smack. “Fuck!”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t want–” Smack. “It’s yours!” You cry out, feeling the building of your next climax in your lower abdomen, that tugging feeling that intensifies with every slap of his hand against your clit.

“Whose is it?”

“Yours,” You gasp, and he brings the hand previously smacking your core—which, you note with a twinge of embarrassment, is absolutely glistening with your arousal and some of his saliva—to your clit, rubbing quick circles around the sensitive bud, and your climax is nothing short of explosive. Your eyes screw shut immediately as white floods your vision, and your whole body feels abuzz, alight with ecstasy, the pleasure so consuming you don’t even know what the sounds you’re making are, the only things you can make out being Haechan’s name and a number of swears. He helps you ride your climax out for as long as you possibly can, not letting up on his finger fucking or his ministrations on your clit, and only stops when you release your legs, attempting to curl in on yourself protectively.

“We’re not done here,” He chuckles, positioning himself on his knees between your legs and guiding his cock to your entrance. Your eyes widen in bewilderment and anything you had planned to say flies out of your mind as soon as his length pushes into you fully, stopping when he’s fully buried in you, the only noise you do make sounding like something between a slow, shaky intake of air and a desperate whimper.

“Don’t worry,” He says in a comforting tone as he leans down to your face. “You’re almost there.” You go slack in relief as he places a quick kiss to your lips before sitting back up and pulling out slowly, almost to the tip, before thrusting back in with a quick rolling snap of his hips, and you cry out in ecstasy, provoking him to repeat the action over and over until he’s fucking you at a steady pace.

“Oh, my God,” You whimper tearfully, and Haechan lets out a smug chuckle.

“You like that, hm? Yeah?” He mocks you as you whimper and nod desperately. “Like me fucking you nice–and–deep like this?” He punctuates his last couple of words with powerful thrusts, and you can’t help but let out stuttered whines with every thrust. “Where’s all that fire from earlier, hm?” One day, you suppose you’ll find it in you to resent the utterly mocking and condescending tone he’s taking with you; that day, however, is not today, nor is it in the foreseeable future, because you’re not even sure you’ll have enough brain cells left to process anger or anything other than being cock-drunk and fucked out.

When Haechan angles his hips so his every thrust has him rutting against your clit, you protest immediately, a sharp cry slipping from you as you swat him away in a panic.

“Not there,” You plead breathlessly, not knowing how much more your poor clit can take. Haechan coos at you in faux sympathy, reaching between you two. His hand makes a beeline for your clit, tweaking, twisting, pulling, and pinching the swollen bud as you squirm under him, desperate sobs of exhaustion and overstimulation leaving you.

“Not here?” He taunts you with a mockingly sweet tone, and you whimper, melting under his touch. “Isn’t this what you wanted? You wanted this, what’s wrong? You wanted to cum and I’m making you cum so many times–you should be thanking me.” He purrs, and at your nonsensical whining and babbling, sits up slightly. “As a matter of fact? When you cum, I want you to thank me.” He says with a smug grin, and you don’t even have it left in you to fight back, giving him a tired but emphatic nod in response.

“Close,” You gasp, your eyes rolling back into your head, and he grunts in acknowledgment, his length throbbing as your walls clench around him and urge him closer to his own release.

“What do you say?” He pants through gritted teeth, and you throw your pride out the metaphorical window, figuring you can do the walk of shame to get it later.

“Thank you,” You stammer, and your climax hits, your back arching off of the bed so forcefully your muscles practically scream in protest. Haechan’s powerful thrusts don’t let up until he’s finished climaxing, the only sounds to be heard now being the bed moving, skin slapping against skin, his breathless grunts, and your weakly repeated mantra of “thank you” filling the room as his thrusts slowly come to a stop.

Haechan pulls out of you slowly, both of you letting out a sound of disappointment as you lose the feeling of him filling you up and he loses the feeling of your walls wrapped around him nice and tight. When he’s sitting back on his heels, his length now fully removed from you, you weakly close your legs, not yet willing to admit that Haechan may have successfully fucked the energy out of you on a level your toys could never provide.

If you’re being really honest, you’re pretty sure most partners you could have in the future wouldn’t be able to fuck you as incredibly mindless as Haechan just did, and you’re extremely reluctant to say out loud or even acknowledge that Haechan really is insanely good in bed. You’re brought out of your daze by the feeling of something cold being pressed to your lips, your head flinching back before you look down the mouth of a water bottle and relax.

“You should drink it,” Haechan persists, and you sit up slightly, taking the bottle from him and sipping from it gingerly as Haechan moves to sit beside you on his bed. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” You mumble, silently surprised by how drained you sound. Haechan gets a bit of a smug look on his face that, for the first time in ever, you let slide because it really is deserved. “Hey, Haechan?”

“Mm?”

“You were right.” You bite the bullet, and his head whips around to look at you incredulously. “That was…good.”

“…Good?” He sounds displeased with your word choice which, actually, you can say is fair because he was so much more than just good.

“You were really fucking good, Haechan.” You admit, and he grins at you, visibly more content with your description. “Like…really good.”

“I know,” He says with a cocky little grin that sends a little flutter through your body. “Don’t doubt me next time.”

“…Next time?” You say, confused, and Haechan looks down at you with an equally confused expression.

“…Next time we…?” He gestures between the two of you, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Oh! Oh, no.” You laugh, and he stares at you blankly.

“What?”

“Haechan, that was great and all, but it’s not happening again.” You explain, and he huffs in disbelief.

“You’ve gotta be kidding.” He exhales slowly, and you pat his arm comfortingly.

“I am not.” You say calmly, and climb out of his bed to start grabbing at your clothes, putting each garment on as you find it and doing your best to ignore the way that Haechan stares at you incredulously the entire time. Before long, you’re dressed once more and are putting on a very brave face to hide how your legs feel like jelly, your brain feels like slime, and you fear that giving into Haechan this time may have opened a can of worms because looking at him on his bed is just making you want to walk, wobble, waddle, whatever word works, over to him and let him take you again and again and again.

“Well. Thanks, I guess. I want all my shit back, by the way, Haechan.” You say seriously, and he glowers at you.

“Yeah,” He mutters, and you nod, now feeling awkward. So you leave with a little wave and head back to your room, collapsing onto your bed and groaning at your sore muscles.

“Jesus Christ, he’s good,” You huff, a little mad to have the wind knocked out of your sails like that; you were hoping he was at least a little incompetent in some way, but he wasn’t.

You can’t even manage to stay up for any longer, your eyes sliding shut before you get a chance to shower, use the bathroom, or make yourself feel any less icky, your whole body feeling some horrid combination of sweaty, slippery, and sticky. The last thought you have before passing out entirely is a hope that maybe Haechan proved his point and has no further business with you for your sake.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

Your not-so-productive work session in your bedroom gets a disruption in the form of Haechan’s loud groan in the living room. You sit in place for a moment, not sure if you should even bother engaging, but he groans again, and you figure whatever he’s up to is more interesting than the paper you’re supposed to be writing, so you shut your laptop and shift it onto your bed, getting up and padding into the living room.

“What’s your problem?” You ask when you see Haechan sitting on the couch, his head tipped back on the cushion behind him.

“This fucking level,” He groans again, running his hand through his hair so forcefully that you briefly wonder if it hurt. “I keep losing.” He practically growls, turning his head to the side to look at you, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, meeting his stare.

“What level?” You ask curiously, and even though Haechan’s brow lifts in skepticism, he gestures at the television screen with a jerk of his chin, and you move behind where he sits, leaning against the back of the couch. His eyes follow you the whole time as you take your new position, his tongue trailing along his upper lip in a blatantly suggestive move that you pretend you haven’t seen. “Oh…simply just do not lose next time you try it.” You offer, your tongue in your cheek as you grin teasingly down at him. He glowers up at you, rolling his eyes, and you maintain your taunting smile.

“Listen, it’s harder than you think!” Haechan insists when he looks back at the screen, and you shrug, smiling innocently at him.

“I can’t relate; I am a winner and I excel at everything I attempt.” You hum pleasantly, and Haechan snorts in amusement, looking back up at you with raised brows. You look down at him as you mirror his expression, Haechan’s eyes pointedly gravitating down from your face to your chest, his tongue sneaking out to wet his lips, and you scoff agitatedly as you push the back of his head so he’s looking at the screen again.

“Yeah, how’s that manifestation working out for you?” He chuckles, and you gasp in offense, provoking Haechan to look at you once more.

“I hope your current save glitches and erases itself.” You say with a sweet smile, and his eyes widen fearfully.

“You’re evil,” He remarks in horror and awe, and your smile just widens.

“Maybe.”

“Fine then, winner, how about you come over here and try it?” Haechan waves you over, patting beside him on the couch with the controller in his hand and you shrug, figuring it’s a better way to procrastinate than just sitting around doing nothing.

“Okay.” You agree, making your way around the couch to sit beside him, and Haechan looks at you with a startled expression the entire time.

“Our first date,” He whispers in awe, and you grimace at him, shaking your head.

“Hard pass. I’m gonna go stare at my laptop and pretend my work is doing itself.” You say, and Haechan pulls you back down when you move to stand up.

“I’m sorry, it was a joke! Here, I’ll explain the game and the controls and stuff,” Haechan offers, and you eye him skeptically, but he really does launch into a comprehensive explanation of the game he’s playing, and you definitely have to ask more clarifying questions than you’re comfortable with, but he answers them patiently and seems appreciative that you actually care.

“You’re getting the hang of it!” Haechan encourages you, his eyes wide, and you can’t help but narrow your eyes at him.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” You huff, nudging him with your shoulder, and he laughs, his gaze still trained on the screen as you navigate through the game on a new save point Haechan set up for you so you could get used to the controls.

“I can’t help it. Who would’ve thought a pretty girl like you had a natural gaming ability?” He chuckles, and you try your best to shield your reaction to the casual compliment from Haechan, disguising the whine you want to let out with a small cough and clearing your throat.

Unfortunately for you, that compliment wasn’t as casual as you’d thought it to be, and Haechan’s eyes study your micro-reaction to the name, a small smirk curling the corner of his mouth.

Also unfortunately for you, the pet name has unlocked something in your subconscious, your mind now slowly filtering in memories of the time you and Haechan spent together just the other day; recollections of the sounds he made, the way he felt, his hands, mouth, co–

“Look out!” Haechan exclaims, pointing at the screen, and you yelp in surprise, quickly navigate your character away from the threat he brought to your attention, and take a second to glare at him.

“You scared me!” You complain, bumping into him with your shoulder, and he scoffs in mock offense.

“I helped you!” He corrects you, scooting closer to mirror your earlier action, sending you lurching to the side. He bursts out into laughter that he at least attempts to contain when you start whining, placing both hands on either side of your waist and pulling you back up to your sitting position. “You drama queen.”

“Takes one to know one,” You gripe, and he rolls his eyes with an amused grin as he removes his hands from you, both of you now incredibly aware of how your thighs are pressed up against the other’s. Haechan’s gaze lifts from your touching legs to study your face, but you’re deliberately trained on the television, waiting until his eyes flick over to watch the screen to swallow thickly.

His thigh is warm, you note internally with a groan; you can feel the heat radiating from him, even through his grey sweatpants—which, you also note bitterly, you should fucking hide from him, the clothing item never failing to drive you mad as of late. You’re snapped from your reverie as he hits your side with the back of his hand repeatedly, his words rushing out in a flurry as he gives you pointers you can barely understand, leaving you to just follow the directions he’s giving you. When the tense moment passes, you both relax slightly, slumping back, and his hand falls from where it was poised to smack your side to land on your leg, slightly higher than you’d say “harmless touch” territory encompasses.

You both freeze at the sudden contact, eyes moving to look at his hand on your bare leg—he has really nice hands, you bemoan internally—and you look up at his face to see that he’s already looking at you, his stare unwavering and unnervingly attractive, a small noise of surprise (something between a squeak, squeal, and yelp; overall, an entirely undignified noise that you wish you could take to your grave) leaving you as you avert your gaze immediately.

He calls your name quietly, his voice serious and tone lower than usual, and you should be ashamed of how quickly your body reacts to him, your core clenching around nothing as the familiar warmth of desire starts to build inside of your abdomen, preparing to radiate through your whole body. You try your best to pretend that you simply didn’t hear him, but your sharp intake of breath when his hand squeezes your thigh slightly most definitely gives you away.

“Pretty girl,” Haechan’s tone barely sounds any different, but after the events of the other day, you’re fully tuned into the subtle shift, this delivery more insistent, more dominant; this is a demand for your attention, an order to look at him.

“Hm?” You hum softly, not yet trusting your voice to speak above a murmur, and you can hear him suck his teeth—in annoyance or disappointment, you’re not sure (because you’re not looking) but you’re willing to bet it’s a mix of both.

“You know what I want.” His voice is still level, deceptively even, like the calm before a storm, and it takes everything in you not to melt into a puddle right on the spot, your eyes dragging over to meet his gaze as if pulled by magnetic forces. The two of you last through maybe a couple of seconds of eye contact before you’re moving, his relieved groan mixing with your desperate whine as you two practically lunge at each other, your lips meeting immediately and moving against the other’s in sync. His fingers dig into your thigh uncomfortably for a moment before he releases your flesh and pulls you into his lap so you’re straddling him.

“God, fuck,” He groans in delight, the words strained with the effort of keeping his voice down. His hands do all of the talking his mouth can’t, palms pressing against you greedily, heavy-handed against your flesh as he gropes your hips and ass, squeezing firmly with a pleased grunt.

One hand leaves your hips, snaking up your shirt to hook his fingers in your bra cup and yank it down forcefully, his hand slipping out to push the hem of your shirt up past your breasts, and Haechan latches onto your nipple without another moment’s hesitation, sucking and licking as your fingers curl in his hair, your hips rocking against him under the firm guidance of his hand. When a sharp whine slips from your lips, Haechan looks up at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’d better be quiet,” He reminds you, staring directly at your mouth. “Keep those pretty little noises to a minimum if you don’t want Yena or Jeno to come find us.”

You nod quickly in agreement and he grins, his pink tongue peeking out to wet his lips before he pulls you into a heated kiss, both of you taking the opportunity to make noises as you please, his pants and grunts of pleasure alternating with your moans and gasps in a composition of the most desperate of symphonies.

He sucks at your bottom lip, tugging it and releasing it repeatedly to cherish the weak whines you vocalize every time he does it, and your fingers curl even harder in his hair, your nails lightly but deliciously scratching against his scalp.

“Shit, pretty girl,” He sounds throatier than usual after a particularly pleased whimper escapes you, and he pulls back from the kiss, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger and shaking your head from side to side in an endearing yet deeply patronizing gesture. “If you keep sounding so pretty, I’m not gonna be able to stop.”

“Then don’t,” You urge him, your voice surprising you when you hear it, it now sounding huskier and far more breathy than you can remember it ever being, and Haechan lets out an appreciative hum that sounds a lot like a growl, pulling your chin down so your lips connect once more. You resume your previously slowed pace of rolling your hips down against his lap, your clothed core rutting against his concealed length as you do your best to silence your moans and other sounds of pleasure when his kisses travel down lower until he’s licking and nipping at your neck. “No marks,” You gasp out, and he hums in acknowledgment, albeit a bit of an annoyed sort, and he busies himself with licking and sucking along your collarbones before he decides he’s satisfied, tapping your hip with one hand to get your attention and gesturing for you to turn around.

Once you do, he pulls you back into his lap, fingers digging into your shorts to tug them down; when you lift your hips to assist him and sit back down, the sudden skin-on-skin contact has you gasping involuntarily.

“Look at you,” Haechan coos condescendingly, fingers trailing along your inner thighs and showing you his digits, now glistening with your arousal. “So messy,” You can hear the mocking pout in his voice and you’re both aggravated by his cockiness and deeply attracted to it. “If we were alone in the apartment, I’d clean you up with my tongue,” He whispers in your ear, and your eyes just about roll back into your head at the thought. “Lift up a bit for me, pretty girl; spread just a bit for me—just like that, good.” He instructs you gently, nestling his length between your thighs and using your arousal as lubrication to bounce you up and down, fucking your thighs and grunting in satisfaction.

“Haechan,” You whine, brows furrowed as you realize his cock is just out of reach of your core, unable to offer you any sort of stimulation.

“I could cum just like this,” Haechan groans, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say there’s a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Well, I can’t!” You huff, and he hums sympathetically.

“No?” He asks, and you shake your head. “Even if I do this?” He asks, his hand reaching around you to rub quick, forceful circles against your clit, his lips reattaching to your neck to lick and suck.

“Holy shit,” You moan, your breathing growing labored as your pleasure builds. Lifting your hips just a bit higher than he has been, Haechan uses your state of arousal as a distraction to slip his thighs from between your thighs, your only warning the brief moment in which the head of his cock presses against your lower lips before he slides in without warning, pulling you down onto his cock until he’s fully buried inside of you. “Fuck, Haechan!” You hiss, and he chuckles devilishly, pressing apologetic kisses to the back of your neck.

“Sorry, pretty girl; just wanted you to know I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that.” He exhales, and you grip the couch cushions on either side of you, using the newfound stability to start bouncing up and down his length, both of you struggling to hold in your sounds of relief.

“God, feels so fucking good,” Haechan grunts, fighting against his fluttering eyelids that threaten to close, the male desperate to remain observant as you ride him but combatting the utterly draining pleasure coursing through him. “Missed this tight little pussy,” He pants, bucking his hips up to meet your downwards movements and grinning at the choked gasp you let out, your labored breaths each ending in a small whine as you chase your release, both of you so deliciously close until—

“Fuck,” You hiss loudly, fixing your shirt and bra and moving to shoot off of Haechan’s lap as a door opens from Haechan’s and Jeno’s side of the apartment, Haechan yanking you back into place and burying his cock in your folds, shushing you insistently and picking the abandoned controller up, resuming the game from where you left off.

“Hey, guys–” Jeno greets you two, stopping short at the sight of what is unmistakably you sitting on Haechan’s lap. “What are you doing?” He sounds more puzzled than suspicious, and you thank your lucky stars that Jeno’s a little clueless at times. Thankfully, the angle he’s standing at only grants him the view of your shoulders and up, so he’s none the wiser as to what you two are actually doing.

“I won a bet,” Haechan lies smoothly, looking over his shoulder at Jeno as he bounces his knees twice, his length pushing into you insistently. “She has to sit on my lap and be my good-luck charm while I play.” Haechan wraps his arms around your frame and hugs you tightly, swaying you from side to side with a big grin.

Two can play at that game, you think, and send a tight-lipped smile Jeno’s way, settling down harder onto Haechan’s lap and clenching around his length, your smile turning genuine as Haechan cries out through gritted teeth, the sound appearing to Jeno as one of pain from your forceful wiggling, but is actually one of almost overwhelmed pleasure, one hand leaving the controller to pinch your thigh, the sneaky act of revenge eliciting a wince from you that has Jeno’s brows furrowing in concern.

“Can you two be nice to each other? I don’t wanna come home to a crime scene.” Jeno asks worriedly, and you two nod quickly, far too quickly for both of your liking, but Jeno, yet again, notices nothing, shooting you both a friendly wave. “Okay, see you guys later; I’m going to the gym.”

“Bye!” You call after him, waiting for the door to shut and lock before you sigh in relief, your body going slack.

“We’re not done here, pretty girl,” Haechan taunts, his hand moving to your clit to pick up where he left off in rubbing quick, tight circles, and your sharp moan of surprise spurs you back into action, your hips lifting back up as you resume riding him, both of you wordlessly agreeing to keep an ear out for Yena.

His free hand moves from your hip to slide up your shirt, pinching, tweaking, and tugging at your nipple, the added stimulation too much for you to handle as your breathing picks up, quiet but desperate whines and pants of Haechan’s name and swears falling freely from your lips while your climax washes over you in waves, each rush more powerful than the one before it.

Shortly after you hit your peak, Haechan’s shuddered groan from behind you lets you know he’s coming right after you, his length twitching as he pulls your hips down, stuffing himself inside of your wet warmth fully and moaning as he releases inside of you, his legs trembling under you as his climax runs its course. Only when he’s sure he’s finished cumming does Haechan ease you off of his length, trying (and failing) to contain the appreciative moan that threatens to slip out when he catches a glimpse of your bare folds, glistening with a mix of his and your releases.

“So much for ‘that can’t happen again,’” Haechan chuckles as you both pull your pants back up.

“…Okay, but it really can’t this time.” You say seriously, turning to look at him, and he raises an eyebrow as he steps closer to you, tucking a finger under your chin and tilting your head up.

“How about that rule starts tomorrow? Come hang out with me in my room.” Haechan says in a suggestive murmur, smiling as your conflicted expression turns pensive.

“What are we doing in your room?” You ask slowly, and he shrugs.

“I’m gonna play more video games,” He says honestly, and you scoff lightly, rolling your eyes at his blatantly honest answer. “However, if I look over at my bed and there’s a very pretty girl lying there with a very pretty pussy for me to eat–”

“Haechan–” You protest immediately, cringing with a grimace at his crass language, but you can’t deny that something inside of you just stirred at the notion of Haechan’s head between your legs.

“–then maybe I’ll just have to do something about that,” Haechan continues on as if you hadn’t said a word, locking eyes with you and raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“…Maybe.” You answer after thinking about it, and Haechan grins triumphantly. “I’m gonna shower first, though. If I feel up to it when I’m all done, then…yeah. Starting tomorrow, though, no more fucking around—literally.” You say seriously, poking his chest with one finger, and he shrugs with a devilish little grin.

“No promises.” He’s turning and heading off to his room before you can even get a word in edgewise, causing you to huff in agitation and head off to your room to get ready for your shower, in which you contemplate whether or not you should go to Haechan’s room after you get out.

(You do, in fact, go to Haechan’s room. You also, in fact, decide to sit on his bed and watch as he plays some game on his computer. Maybe you space out a couple of times while he’s playing because you’re staring at his hands and the way his fingers move across the keyboard and the way his veins flex and tense under his skin, and maybe you don’t.

Maybe at one point, Haechan finds his eyes wandering over to you more often than not, and maybe, when he ultimately gets kicked from the game for being idle, he takes the opportunity to make good on his word and remind you of what it feels like to have his head between your legs.)

i hope you liked part one! part two is already written and will be up in exactly a week! again, if you enjoyed the fic, please consider tipping me here or here!

[realexotrash]

Mean || l.hc

Second part of: The Friends of Lee Jeno

Part one: Suffocating || n.jm Summary: You take up the entirety of Haechan's thoughts. But, Haechan hates how much he likes you Pairings: University Haechan! x reader Warnings: 18+, dark content, noncon, bullying, degradation, toxic relationships

Dark Content, Minor please DNI

Disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. I do not condone the actions of any characters in this story and the actions do not reflect the idols in any way.

Haechan isn’t entirely sure when you started crowding his thoughts.

Was it when you made him Kimchi Jjigae when he was sick at you and Jeno’s apartment? Was it when you comforted him after another one of his messy breakups? Or maybe it was when he first met you and heard your voice, how you said his full name instead of his nickname.

Either way, you crowd his mind, thoughts of you taking up too much space in Haechan’s head. It doesn’t matter who he’s with, his thoughts no longer cohesive when his thoughts drift back to you. Haechan doesn’t bother to decode his feelings or emotions, never reading too deep into them. He’s a hedonist, chasing after the high of relationships and the pleasure that comes with them, ‘‘The Dreamies’ always making jokes about his high body count. 

But Haechan hasn’t felt the rush sex usually gives to him, each hookup has left him feeling dull and thinking about you. Orgasms are never as intense as when he does them himself, fucking into his first while he thinks about you.

Haechan feels pathetic for lusting after someone who doesn’t turn heads, so unlike his previous conquests. Someone as attractive as him fantasizing about someone like you. He’s used to bragging about who he just scored, loving the admiration and jealousy he gets when he gets someone attractive and you’re nothing to brag about. In his opinion, you’re nothing to look at, too plain, too messy, too quiet, too soft for him. Haechan tells himself that he doesn’t like you, he bets he wouldn’t even look your way if he saw you in university. 

And, Haechan unfortunately makes that very clear towards you and ‘the Dreamies’. Nothing is off limits for Haechan to insult you on, from your clothing, to your body, to your face, to your personality, and even the way you talk, Haechan manages to insult it all. Haechan can always see the discomfort on your face, the way that you shift in Jaemin’s hold, the way your eyes start to water, the way you look down, and the way your whispers of Jaemin to let you go increase whenever he starts. Jaemin never relents though, tightening his grip and shushing your protests, valuing you being there with him over your clear discomfort. You always stay and it’s common for Haechan to keep insulting you, until Mark or Renjun tell him he’s gone too far or change the topic. 

It’s comfortable like this, Haechan can be as mean as he wants towards you and you stay there and take it. You’re there for him and ‘the Dreamies’, cooking for them when they need you to, offering a shoulder to cry on when they need you to, doing anything they need you to because of your bleeding heart. 

It doesn’t hit him that you won’t always be there for him until the day he takes it too far, calling you, “Jaemin’s lap pet” and Jaemin follows you into your room. 

Haechan feels his blood boil and jealousy curl in the pit of his stomach when he goes back to his place, replaying the sounds Jaemin was able to pull out of you. The soft whines, whimpers and moans Jaemin caused when it should be him, Lee Haechan. In hindsight, Haechan should’ve seen all the signs of Jaemin wanting you, the possessive grip over your body, the shower of compliments Jaemin gave you, the fact that you were always around Jaemin and not Haechan, but that doesn’t stop Haechan from flying into a rage, breaking everything in sight. Haechan convinces himself that he’s upset because Jaemin is too good for you, that Jaemin is too pretty, too smart, too better than you in every way compared to someone like you. You’re just some slut that sleeps around with whoever gives you attention, that you managed to lure in Jaemin with your crocodile tears and sweet words. Haechan even thinks that he's too good for you, he’s too attractive, too smart, that you should be happy to even be in the presence of Lee Haechan. It doesn’t take long for Haechan to come to the conclusion that if you don’t understand that ‘the Dreamies’ are too good for you, he’ll make you understand.

It’s harder than before to get you alone.

After you had presumably fucked Jaemin, Jaemin somehow became clingier towards you. Jaemin follows you to your room more, when you get up to get water or use the bathroom, Jaemin is waiting outside just outside. The splotches on your neck fade with time while Jaemin continues to add new red ones to cover the fading ones, sucking new ones into your skin right in front of ‘the Dreamies’, shooting them a grin whenever anyone takes notice. 

Thankfully, Haechan has your schedule memorized and with the frequency he’s been coming over to you and Jeno’s apartment, it only takes a couple weeks for him to catch you alone without Jaemin or ‘the Dreamies’ present. 

You’re chopping vegetables when Haechan lets himself into you and Jeno’s apartment, sparing him only a glance before going back to chopping. Haechan grits his teeth at your indifference and “disrespect” towards him, storming over to grab your wrist and dragging you to your room. He can feel you stiffen in his grip, your stumbles as you try to fight against him, pleas for him to let you go falling upon deaf ears as he manhandles you onto your bed. You’re pinned underneath him, laying on your stomach while Haechan rests his full body weight on you, your arms pinned behind your back and his tongue on your neck, licking your skin. 

“You’re such a fucking slut, fucking Jaemin like that? Did you think we wouldn’t notice? The way you go after anyone who gives you an ounce of attention?” Haechan spits out, squeezing wrists harshly. 

You’re crying when he pulls your face to the side to kiss you harshly, tears slipping down your cheeks and sobs racking your throat as his teeth bump against yours. It’s sloppy, full of your tears and spit as you two kiss, Haechan harshly biting your lip and drawing blood before shoving his tongue into your mouth. Haechan savors the taste of you before pulling back, turning you on your back so you face him.

“Jaemin is too good for you. Jaemin could pull anyone he wanted, and you? You’d be lucky if anyone ever looked your way.” Haechan says, unbuckling his belt and fixing it around your wrists. “You’re such a lucky slut thatI’m generous enough to teach you a lesson this way. You’re so lucky we even tolerate someone like you”

Haechan towers above you, sitting up and keeping your lower body pinned against his weight. You’re shaking when Haechan pulls your bottoms down and your shirt up to expose your stomach and chest. 

“You’re below us. Don’t be delusional and think anyone like us likes you.” Haechan says, gripping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him before kissing you again. 

Haechan tugs at the end of the belt as he opens and bends your legs. He opts to keep his shirt on, pulling out a bottle of lube and removing his bottoms. You’re panicking now, pleading for him to stop, that you haven’t had any penetrative sex yet, that you don’t want this and that he can still stop. Haechan pauses, rolling his eyes and then glaring, saying that he’s “not going to fuck your disgusting hole,” and that he “doesn’t even want to touch that thing.” 

A sick sense of relief washes over you as you let out a sigh. 

The relief doesn’t stay for long when you feel the cold lube hit your thighs and Haechan’s fingers spread the lube. Haechan squirts some on his hand, lubing himself up and angling himself to fuck your thighs. Haechan lets out a pitchy moan as he feels your thighs around him. He starts off rough, jostling you and pushing you up the bed with his thrusts as he fucks your thighs. You can see Haechan fighting with himself not to close his eyes and savor the pleasure, his eyes fluttering as his groans.

 You close your eyes, not wanting to see what he’s doing to you. Staying silent and trying to ignore Haechan’s pitchy moans and pants. Haechan doesn’t seem to care that you’ve closed your eyes, making no comments on it as he continues to chase after his own pleasure. It doesn’t take long for him to cum, Haechan painting your stomach white.

“Ah, fuck… I didn’t know your thighs would feel good.” Haechan pants out, his face flushed and bangs sticking to the sweat on his forehead. Haechan smears his cum over your body, stopping when he’s satisfied and bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick clean.

You think he’s done when he pushes his hair back and presses his hand against his cheek to cool the heat, only to have that thought be taken away when he applies more lube to your thighs.

You let out a sigh. You’re stuck with Haechan for a while. 

Previous part: Suffocating || n.jm

[realexotrash]

Suffocating || n.jm

First part of: The Friends of Lee Jeno Summary: Jaemin is the prized student in the university, everyone adores him. But, behind closed doors he's a bit different. Pairings: Univeristy! Jaemin x reader Warnings: 18+, smut, noncon to dubcon, dark content, bullying, coercion(?), university au Wc: 1.5k

Dark Content, Minor please DNI

Disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. I do not condone the actions of any characters in this story and the actions do not reflect the idols in any way.

Everyone knows about Na Jaemin. 

Jaemin’s sweet. He’s all smiles and sugar coated words as he charms his way into the hearts of everyone on campus. It’s no wonder that his pretty face, paired with his honeyed tongue has turned him into a campus celebrity. It’s common to see people join the organizations, clubs and classes Jaemin is in just because he’s in them. When he shows up to club events, especially volunteering, it’s common to see spectators unaffiliated with the club come just to watch Jaemin.

Jaemin isn’t just a pretty face and it shows with his 4.0 GPA and his awards at dance competitions. He excels at everything he does and isn’t afraid to put in the effort to achieve what he wants. When asked about how he excels so much, he thanks all his adoring fans. Stating that he owes everything to them, he’s thankful for the support and opportunities he’s been given.

And it’s somewhat true that he’s sweet, at least Jaemin is like that with other people. It’s just that behind closed doors when he’s with Lee Jeno, he’s different. He’s less syrupy sweet, more blunt, more serious, sometimes even more quiet, but he’s always sure to revert back to his persona whenever he needs something from others in the group. Jaemin’s doe eyes, wide smile and words always guarantees him what he wants.

You’re wary of him, scared of Jaemin and how easily he’s able to get the things he wants, so you try to avoid him, hiding in your room, whenever he comes over to you and your roommate Jeno’s shared apartment. But Jaemin never seems to take the hint that you want some space from him and it shows in the way he treats you.

Jaemin isn’t shy about showing his affection for you in front of his and Jeno’s friends. It’s not uncommon for you to be seated between Jaemin’s thighs on the couch when ‘the Dreamies’ are over. Jaemin’s arms wrapped tight around your body, groping at flesh as he bends down to nuzzle his head in your neck, pecking your neck and the top of your head. It’s uncomfortable when he does this, you can feel stares, especially Haechan, burning holes into you as Jaemin dotes on you. You always avoid eye contact with 'the Dreamies' and try to fight the red creeping onto your cheeks, sometimes squirming in Jaemin’s hold, whispering quietly for him to let you go, only for him to whine and tighten his hold on you.

Ignoring him is futile though, always hearing Jaemin whine through your door when he doesn’t see you in the apartment when he visits Jeno, demanding to see you, even threatening to drag you out himself if you don’t come out yourself. Jeno can only sigh as he relents, knocking against your door or sending you a text to come out for Jaemin. 

Jaemin is no stranger to forcing you into his arms when he doesn't want to, hand wrapped tightly around your wrist as he pulls you out of your room and into his lap. You fight the discomfort as you feel his warm hands roaming under your shirt, squeezing and prodding at your flesh and skin, squishing your cheeks, cooing at your full cheeks and calling you so "sweet and cute". Gushing over how “nice you feel”, how “soft” you are. 

You’ve never been the best at setting boundaries, too used to being walked on and treated as a doormat, and Jaemin is no exception.

Jaemin is suffocating, crushing you in his affection and hold, uncaring for your protests and boundaries. You dread whenever he comes over, but there's nothing you can do. You've tried your best to prevent Jaemin from coming, begging Jeno to talk to Jaemin. Jeno only responds with a shake of a head, stating that that’s just how Jaemin is, how stubborn he is and that you’re better off just complying with him.

You're feeling especially sensitive today after you hadn’t scored as high on a midterm as you wanted to, words floating in the back of your mind about how useless and stupid you are.

You’re seated between Jaemin’s thighs again on the couch as ‘the Dreamies’ converse around you. It’s become a normal occurrence now, but it never stops the stares from ‘the Dreamies’, at least not from Haechan. Haechan, the one with the body count triple his age. Haechan, the only one who actively shames you and makes rude, out of pocket comments regarding you. Haechan, the only one who acted like you were inconveniencing him by just existing.

That’s why it hurts especially when Haechan makes a regularly scheduled comment about your appearance, calling you “Jaemin’s useless lap toy” among other things. You can’t take it anymore as you begin silently, breaking free from Jaemin’s unnaturally gentle grip as you excuse yourself in a shaky tone. You miss the stares at you and Jaemin as you rush to your room, Jaemin rushing to get up from his spot on the couch and follow you into your room.

You’re overwhelmed, tears blurring your vision, as you blubber in the safety of your room to Jaemin about just how mean Haechan is. How awful he is when he sees you. How you wish you weren’t ever roommates with Jeno because that meant you had to deal with Haechan and his comments everytime he comes over. Jaemin can only pretend that he’s listening to you while nodding, mind telling him to just take what he wants.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” Jaemin shushes you, running his thumb across your cheek to wipe away your tears. “Let me help you. Let me make you feel better.”

You miss the way his eyes gleam, the way he licks his lips and his expression of pure hunger as he stares at you, eyes focused on the tears rolling down your face and your puffy, red eyes. 

You shakily nod your head, confused at what Jaemin means and thinking that he only means to comfort you with his words. But that idea of comfort fades when Jaemin drags you back into his lap and kisses you, one hand coming to the back of your head to hold you there while the one on your face forcing you to pout your lips to receive him. You immediately recoil, fighting against his hold until Jaemin’s hand on the back of your head slides down to the back of your neck, giving it a firm warning squeeze, before going back up. It doesn’t take much to understand his warning as you stop resisting, more of your tears slipping down Jaemin’s fingers. 

You feel gross as Jaemin works you open on his experienced fingers in his lap, your cheeks tinged red in embarrassment and guilt as you bite your lips to muffle the noises Jaemin is able to pull out of you from his fingers alone. Jaemin’s arm is wrapped tightly against your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while his mouth latches onto your neck, alternating between harsh sucks onto your skin and gentle kisses to soothe the red splotches starting to form. 

You’re not sure when it starts to feel good, the burning stretching turning into pleasure as Jaemin skillfully hits that pleasurable spot within you again and again, your brain slowly turning hazy as Jaemin gives you orgasm over orgasm. It doesn’t seem to care when you begin to fall slack in his arms, watery eyes now glazed over as you forget about Haechan and focus on the pleasure Jaemin gives to you instead. 

“You’re so soft, so cute and so inexperienced. You’re too sweet, way too nice.” Jaemin mumbles into your neck. “You’re all mine, right? You can only be mine.”

You can only nod dumbly at Jaemin’s question, words not fully processing in your mind. What Jaemin says now becomes background ambiance to your soft moans and pants as you become pliant in Jaemin’s arms. 

It’s not until you hit your 4th orgasm that Jaemin lays you down on your bed on your back, head propped up on your own pillows. Jaemin quickly tugs down his pants and frees his length as he sits himself on his knees between your legs. You look towards the ceiling as you hear Jaemin moan as he tugs at himself, not taking long for him to coat your stomach with his cum. You don’t fully feel him run his fingers over your stomach, collecting his cum.

“Say ah,” Jaemin says playfully, tapping your lips with his cum covered fingers. “Open-wide.”

You blink at him, confused before opening your mouth and attempting to wrap your lips around his fingers, your tongue lapping sloppily at his fingers as drool begins to leak from the corner of your mouth. You can hear Jaemin sharply inhale as you begin to drool on his fingers, hearing him mumble a “next time” before wiping his fingers on your cheek. 

Jaemin smooths back his hair and crawls next to your side, using your blanket to cover the two of you. He lets out a satisfied hum as he wraps his body around you, clinging to you and placing a kiss on your cheek. It’s comfortable, almost intimate like this, and Jaemin thanks Haechan in his mind for finally giving you the push to be his.

Next part: Mean || l.hc