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#hiccups rambling again
hiccupdolly · 7 months
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common knowledge, really
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soni-dragon · 8 months
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havent done much art lately but I did do a new phone case design! So here’s that!
[ID: A watercolor drawing of Hiccup and Toothless from How To Train Your Dragon. They’re flying above the ocean with brown and green cliffs behind them partly hidden in fog. /End ID.]
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spacenintendogs · 1 year
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httyd hcs abt the gang's relationship to eret bc we were deprived.
eret has a sense of camaraderie with all of them eventually, but it's super rough to get along with anyone besides astrid & hiccup at first
him & astrid get along the best, obv. they spar, they talk shit, they open up abt serious things, they trade information
eret dealing with how quickly he's changed his life & while astrid doesn't fully understand she rmrs how quickly her mind had been changed & getting used to it.
stormfly still plays fetch with eret (with a stick or... with him LMAO but it helps him get used to falling from large heights & trusting he'll be caught by a dragon, either her or skullcrusher)
hiccup immediately trusts eret as much as he trusts anyone he's known for years & eret doesn't know if he deserves it but he strives to make it so he does
eret has HIGH respect for hiccup & understands what he's going through to an extent as the son of a chief (tho hiccup is chief now). hiccup is one of the only ones who know eret was son of a chief.
yea i'm going off of what was said abt fire tides with eret being the son of a chief
eret figures out exactly where toothless likes to be pet & always has to give him a scratch under the chin to say hello
fishlegs enthusiasm for dragons & infodumping is a lot for eret at first, but very quickly fishlegs unabashedly is sweet, gentle, shy, patient, & still has the ability to bite back at ppl (mostly snotlout & the twins) & eret is like okay word
fishlegs helps eret understand skullcrusher more, as he's more than eager to step into the role of teacher (this makes hiccup happy)
fishlegs tells eret abt his family's regatta history & eret is actually invested!! he's interested!!! in turn, eret shows fishlegs his ship!!
eret: (sees meatlug) oh. (gives her a snack) (gives her a snack) (gives her a snack) (gives her a
we know snotlout sees eret as a rival but eret doesn't Care™️ but it'd be funnier i think if eret doesn't Care™️ but also enjoys mildly taking the piss out of snotlout for fun
it's so easy to work snotlout up & after eret's had his fun for a few months he casually brings it up to snotlout & snotlout wants to crawl into a hole & die
they do become good friends & it's weird for ppl outside of the gang bc eret is so dry towards snotlout vs snotlout still getting in eret's face (affectionate)
hookfang just likes to push himself into eret's personal space & cuddle(?) so eret just allowe it LMAO
it's ruffnut's bluntness that has eret finally relax around her.
she defends him in a rather mundane event of eret getting heckled (again) by berkians who don't trust him (this is like, month 5 of him living on berk) by looking at each viking & roasting them calmly from the ground up with information they didn't know she knew
eret tells her thanks & she just... smiles at him. so he gives her a kiss on the cheek & it's a rare moment of ruff getting slightly flushed
tuffnut is actually very easy to get along with. he always checks on eret & makes sure he's doing alright (in his tuffnut way)
tuffnut is so blasé abt things while also being one of the most hyper ppl eret has ever met & it's so intriguing to eret how someone can be a walking contradiction but make it make sense so easily
tuffnut gives eret unprompted pep talks & eret tries to respond in kind instead of fully brushing tuff off & tuff is like :D
barf & belch are as chaotic as their riders & maybe... maybe... eret will enable them on occassion (yes he will. what? it's funny).
eret rlly learns abt everyone & learns to like them for them as they like him for him :)
also they all saw him without a shirt ONE TIME (1) & haven't shut up abt it since
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Shoutout to the byers boys who, despite growing up with an abusive and then promptly absent father, still grew up to love wholly and entirely with every inch of their being
Jonathan, who gives his everything and all to Nancy- who loves HER and not just the idea of her. Who admits when he's wrong, who goes along with her crazy idea and offers to drive, who believes in her full force, who sees through her acts in the beginning and tries to dig out the best in her. Jonathan, who was so scared of hurting her the way his father hurt his mom that he lied and put his relationship with her on the line. Jonathan, who is gentle and kind and carries so much sadness and responsibility that he only ever really smiles when he sees his family or NANCY, the love he's fallen for
And Will, who diverts all his energy into hyping up a man who in his point of view does not love him back. Will, who fights tooth and nail to keep his best friend happy, who wants to bad for that love that he still gives to Mike anyways. Will, who gives an entire speech to the love of his life, phrased like its from his sister's brain, who aches and craves and still puts himself last because he's so scared of being hurt but also so deeply in love with Micheal fucking Wheeler that he'd rather throw away his heart that he had spent painting into that canvas just to keep the other smiling.
Shoutout to the byers boys, who probably ache to love and be loved in the way their mother had found only to lose again and again. Shoutout to the byers boys, for their gentleness and their kindness that never seems to get returned. Shoutout to the byers boys.
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dianagj-art · 1 year
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when I first started writing fic back on like 2013-14 I was like, yeah, this fic is gonna be short, I'm just gonna rewrite the first movie but with Hiccup as a girl (because I am unwell about her), and after I finish than I can make the au of "Hiccup leaving Berk" I want to do:)
Then not even 3 chapters in I decided that it was taking me too long to write so I was gonna tackle the au first, a "long" fic I thought, of "just 22 chapter" I thought, boy I didn't really thought TEN YEARS LATTER I would still be writing this fucking fic with around 64 chapter planned and just writing chapter 22
of course, instead of actually writing ch22 I'm rewriting the first like 14 chapters bc they are in first person and I no longer like that
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age-of-moonknight · 1 month
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“Soldier,” Vengeance of the Moon Knight (Vol. 2/2024), #3.
Writer: Jed MacKay; Penciler and Inker: Alessandro Cappuccio; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit
#Marvel#Marvel comics#Marvel 616#Vengeance of the Moon Knight#Vengeance of the Moon Knight vol. 2#Vengeance of the Moon Knight 2024#Moon Knight comics#latest release#Soldier#Tigra#Greer Nelson#I love this distinction between what Moon Knight does/did in vol. 9 compared to other heroes#don’t get me wrong I obviously love Spider-Man (and only to a slightly lesser extent Daredevil) but this is a cool difference#feels a little more grounded almost like community defense as opposed to a high-flying cape issue#also fascinating comparing to a drug implying these low level villains are thrill seekers/adrenaline junkies#but most critically…hmmm….this may just be more indicative of my own perspective than anything (bear with me)#but interestingly those last two text boxes on finding the balance between keeping a group too scared to make a move#and not so scared that they get desperate/have nothing left to lose#is very similar to the basis of a theory of counterinsurgency#that an iron fist can keep a group from developing means + will to organize but the ruling regime must be careful#to not be too cruel or else it will push the group into survival mode/win it sympathy from the local or international population#(it’s very reminiscent of Machiavelli’s The Prince)#Mind you it’s a theory usually entertained by authoritarian regimes where people have few de facto civil rights#and its efficacy/sustainability’s debatable as it takes one hiccup with the regime (markedly weak ruler/secession crisis/natural disaster/#excessive use of force/etc) for the insurgency to flair up again#Marc’s past with the CIA is mentioned in this issue so I wonder if that’s what this is all about#but uuuuuh yeah do with that info what you will sorry hahaha#don’t mind me rambling in the tags
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brainlessbunny · 2 years
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Guess who’s been replaying Pocket Mirror ✨
Pocket Mirror belongs to @astralshiftpro​
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twst-beam · 8 months
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you guys ever get those moments when you're drawing an oc but they're new so you kinda let them pick out what they want to look like AND THEN THEY CHOOSE SOMETHING ENTIRELY DIFFERENT FROM YOUR VISION OF WHAT YOU WANT THEM TO BE????? anyways that's what happened to me just now :'D
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book-of-snotlout · 2 years
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Snotlout’s Book - Themed Blog
Yes he’s my favorite can you tell?
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Name’s Vine!
Snotlout enthusiast and dragon enjoyer. Main blog is @vinejay-vinewings
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hiccupdolly · 6 months
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MyStreet Redesigns!
the redesigns have been finally finished!! it took a thousand fucking years but they’re done!!
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I’ll probably slowly post character bios with their new names and information, but from left to right we have Aphmau, Travis, Teony, Katelyn, Aaron, Kawaii Chan, Garroth, Vylad, Zane, Laurence, Dante, and Gene!!
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buckyalpine · 5 months
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Reader that always cries/tries not to cry. As someone who has been yelled at for crying and who is extra sensitive, I live for the angst where the reader struggles to hold their emotions followed by all the fluff, comfort and reassurance.
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"But-it feels like you don't care Bucky!"
"I told you I was busy y/n!" Bucky sighed out of frustration, running his fingers through his short locks, "You know how stressful this job is, it's not like I cancel our dates on purpose"
You couldn't help but feel a tinge of neglect as you stood in front of your boyfriend, fully dressed for your date only for him to text you that it would have to happen another night.
Again.
"I haven't seen you in weeks. You go for days without answering your phone. I only call you because I care about you, I love you" You could already feel the warning signs making their way throughout your body. Your throat felt tight making it difficult to swallow. Your eyes stung with fresh tears. Your nose felt warm, threatening to sniffle.
"Yeah I get that," He scoffed, shaking his head in annoyance. "I just don't know if you understand how much I have to do in a day"
"I'm not stupid Bucky" Your voice started to crack, feeling worse for adding to his stress as your own emotions started to crumble. You wanted to hold it together, to have one conversation where you didn't break but-
"But you don't get it- c'mon y/n, don't cry" Bucky bit out, the words coming out harsher than he intended, not realizing how much it would upset you. You bit your lip harder to keep your chin from trembling, fat tears threatening to slip out the more you tried to blink them back. Your throat ached, constricting your neck more and more.
"I-I'm s-sorry" You choked out, hating yourself even more for getting emotional, the frustration evident in your voice. You harshly wiped your face between hiccups, letting out a frustrated groan. Bucky blinked, his previous annoyance replaced with regret seeing how upset you were with yourself.
"I-I don't mean t-to cry" You dug your nails into your palms to try and get yourself together, your body betraying you wish a fresh wave of tears only making you feel worse, "I don't want to!"
Your body trembled, your arms moving to hug yourself in an attempt to hide away, squeezing yourself together to gain some semblance of control. Bucky cursed internally, now pissed at himself for losing his patience when you were only upset for not being able to see him. You never asked for much; the only thing you wanted was to spend time with him and recently he hadn't been doing that either.
"Hey-no-baby shhh, c'mere" Bucky pulled you to his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head, rubbing your back up and down to calm your labored breaths. "Its not you angel, its me. I'm the one whose sorry, I shouldn't have spoken like that to you or said that, I'm sorry sweet girl"
"I-c-cry for-for everything" Your voice cracked into a defeated sob, embarrassed over how easily you broke down to tears, a new wave streaming down your face, wetting the front of his Henley. Bucky picked you up in his arms, carrying you over to bed where he could place you in his lap, cradling you to his body. "I h-hate it"
"My sweet, sensitive baby" Bucky cooed as he continued to cuddle you, rocking you in his arms while you got your breathing under control. "I'm sorry babygirl"
"I just missed you" You sniffled, clutching onto his dogtags while he kissed your temple repeatedly, stroking your hair.
"You have every right to be upset. I should be lucky my girl loves me so much, you don't even ask for a lot. I'm sorry I've been neglecting and cancelling on you so much, m'gonna take some time off so I can love on you properly"
You smiled into his chest, your body finally starting to relax, following the rise and fall of his chest.
"I'm sorry I cry so much- Bucky tipped your face up, pressing his lips against yours to stop your rambling.
"No, you cry as much as you want with me, I love that about you, okay?" He looked at your sincerely, meaning every word.
"But-
"You cry because you care. I love that you care so much. I love that cute little animal videos make you emotional. I love how deeply you feel for others. Fuck, I love how much you love me. I'll never meet anyone else who loves and cares for others the way you do. Don't ever change baby, you cry all you want"
You let out a small sniffle at his words making him chuckle, swiping his thumb across your cheek to wipe the tear the slipped out.
"What if it annoys you" you pouted while Bucky playfully pondered your question, pecking your lips again.
"Hmm, then you send Steve to beat me up. I promise he'll run at the chance at any given moment. Call Sam in too and get comfy with those fuzzy peaches you love so much"
"You sure?"
"I'm sure, doll" Bucky whispered, settling you under the covers with your head on his chest, planning to spend the rest of the day cuddling in bed. "Very sure"
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seventhcallisto · 22 days
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Channie. Chris. ( bang chan )
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MDNI ! 18+ CONTENT AHEAD !
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smut and fluff. bang chan x afab! reader (nn: sweet girl used once). Unprotected sex (wrap it pls ffs). Breeding. Slight edging. I love u's during it. Can be considered soft dom chan, but there really are no roles here, yall.
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Chan is such a soft lover. The type to wrap around your waist in the kitchen and kiss your shoulder, swaying you back and forth in a slow waltz. The type to kiss your neck as you let him message it. The type to go out of his way to get you something you want or like.
The type to hold an extra pair of shoes for you in case the heels you're wearing start to hurt. The type to love casual affection. The type to hold your hand and listen to you ramble with the most content and focused expression on his face. Chan was that type of lover.
Chan is also the type of lover to fold you in half as he gives you the dicking of a lifetime. With your legs over his broad shoulders and singing the sweet music only he knows how to drive out of you.
Watching your glistening cunt catch in the night light and shine with slick, creamy from the previous orgasms he has already pried out of you and yet- he's still to reach his own peak everytime he sinks back in to the hilt. Catching himself and slowing down to edge it on- he loves to talk you through it when he does it.
"Gonna cum soon sweetheart?" he'd murmur, husky and out of breath from the brutal pace he's already set for the two of you, slowing down til his thrusts are pushing you- digging deeper and deeper into your cunt until theres no space for him to go. "You're so good for me, baby. Gonna fill you real good, okay?" You're folded, yet he leans down to place his strong arms by your head. You're fucked out and it's all thanks to your boyfriend- your lover.
And he has the guts to smile, to bite his lip and kiss the corner of your mouth, leaning more of his weight onto the bed so he's practically on you- one with you. "Talk to me pretty," he'd ask again, stopping abruptly, then slowing to a grind- torture of pleasure on his handsome face, his cockhead hitting a part of you that has only ever been reached by him.
"I-I'm channie-" you hiccup as quietly as you can manage, jolting in his grasp due to the way everytime he does it, your clit throbs- sore from so many orgasms before, and you whimper once again when he slows down even more, telling you to respond in his own way. "Channie, need you to cum in me please- please please" you'd bargain- chans got a thing for breeding.
"Yeah? Say please one more time f'me-" His tired voice asks, his face hovering over yours. He watches your expressions - your feelings and the satisfaction of his sped up pounding wash over you. "My sweet girl, fuck-" he hisses when you clench again and again- signaling you're going to cum for the 4th time soon.
"Please- oh fuck- chan- chris," you whimper his name once again, something different this time - his name, which you know gets to him. That makes him weak in the knees, soft and mushy.
The way chan has you is everything to him - you're perfect, made just for him and him for you. He can't wait to marry you one day, to put a giant ring on your finger and settle down. You're everything to him- always have been- always will be.
And with another hard slam of his hips, you're scrunching up around him, calling his name with a shriveled cry and digging your nails into his back, not like he minds. Legs squeezing over his shoulder until he drops them down to place himself back between your parted and soaked thighs, hiking them up and over his arms to keep you spread for his wide form.
"Almost there baby, where d'you want it?" He groans, and it reverbs off his chest into yours, his head falling into the junction of your neck to place a sloppy kiss over the countless red blots of hickeys lining up over you. You shake with every push, every pull of his hips, and how hard he drills his cock into you, pumping you with his entire length and dragging out your already exhausting orgasm.
"In-" you stutter, whimpering once more when his dark happy trails skims over your clit from another thrust. "In me, inside chan, please chris?" And oh- it's everything to have you beg for him like this. His cock twitches- his groan deeper this time as he nears his peak.
The harder he bucks inside you, the farther you slip into his lap, his knees placed under you, your body halfway over his strong thighs, he holds you tight there with a grip to your waist, blow after blow, grunt after moan. His eyebrows scrunching, and his eyes locking with yours as he pulls back to lean his head on your forehead.
"I- fuck baby i love you so much," he strains as finally, his eyes drift shut and his face scrunches with pure unaltered bliss, his mouth falling slack. His cum floods you, warm and sticky and so much it has you gasping- his hips stuttering.
He falls over you with a heavy- breathless sigh, his sticky naked skin sticking to yours. You're finally able to catch your breath as well, thighs trembling from around his waist and then unfolding to straighten out cause they're sore, obviously. Chan breathes against you, steadying his breath and listening to yours do the same, your heart pounds against his chest and everything just feels to right to move.
He places a sweet kiss against your jaw, tugging himself to lean on his arm. His face is soft- lax and red. Yours is probably dazed, and fucked to oblivion. But chan smiles anyways, kissing you as softly as he's done hundreds of times before.
"You okay?" He questions with a hum, lips stretching out and his eyes curling to showcase how he's genuinely asking. You blink up at him. "I love you too, chris," you murmur sweetly. Chan falters, a chuckle bubbling up from his throat fondly before you pull him down into your embrace.
"I'm gonna take that as a yes, yeah?" He laughs into your shoulder. You hum happily, content to be in his strong arms and tough figure. Soft and warm and giving. Ready to show you in every way how much he adores and loves you. Just you.
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mingisaddctn · 9 months
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mind over matter | s.mg
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Pairing: best friend!mingi x reader Genre: [+18] smut w/o plot Warnings: jussss smut, enjoy a/n: first fic on this blog yay
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the two things you can be sure in life is that 1. you will die and 2. you've never wanted to suck a dick so bad.
I mean, you always knew that your best friend was hot — you had eyes, for god's sake! — but holy shit.
it started when you ran out of cat food. you were an attentive cat owner, don't get me wrong, but at the same time, you had the worst week for your mental state. exams after exams, studying 'till the library basically had to kick you out and group projects with lazy people... so that's how it ended up with your cat screaming at the top of their lungs and waking you up from your power nap.
mingi happened to be around because, guess what, you also forgot about your plans to watch that new anime that he rambled all about for the past month, and truly, you wanted to be able to enjoy some quality time with him, but you fell asleep as quick as his cursor pressed play on the screen, the warmth that irradiated from both inside his hoodie that you were wearing to where your head laid on his shoulder was too cozy.
so when you got up to feed the cat, your heart dropped, and you saw the grocery list accumulating dust on top of the counter, the 'cat food' underlined three times. you looked outside the windows of your small apartment and saw that the simple drizzle from before now turned into a full on storm, and all you could do was lean onto the counter and bawl your eyes out.
mingi was startled but tried to comfort you somehow, not really sure of what he could do to help, and as you tried to tell him between hiccups and tears, he quickly grabbed his jacket and told you that he would be right back.
twenty minutes later, a full-on drenched mingi stood on the doorstep, chest heaving as he took off his shoes and the same jacket, now in a darker tone from the wetness. you stared back from your couch, as you were curled into the throw blankets, eyes widened.
you almost forgot about the cat food.
in your defense, it should be illegal the way his white tee clung to his abs so sinfully highlighting each of his muscles. and when he rose his arms to take off his cap and ran his fingers between wet strands of hair that framed his cheekbones, your eyes fixated on the way his sweats clung onto dear life to his v-line.
holy fuck. jesus christ. oh my god. whatever divinity that was out there.
"you okay?" he asked, as if he was expecting your answer and you shook your head, trying to escape the trance you found yourself in.
"what? why?"
"i asked if i could use your shower" he placed the single bag with the cat food on the counter as he tried not to wet your floor.
you can use me, for sure; you thought to yourself.
"yeah, yeah, go ahead" you nodded and he took his shirt off on the way to the bathroom.
you quickly jumped from the couch to feed the cat — since that was the prime reason for all the ruckus. as you put the blocks of minced meat on the food bowl, you caught yourself fantasizing about it again.
how good he should be looking, as droplets of rain still lingered on his skin as he took of the sweatpants slowly, leaving only the boxers that perfectly held his firm thighs and secured his—
meow, you looked down, to find that a block of meat fell beside the bowl and you took a deep breath. control yourself.
you blamed the ovulation. or maybe the fact that you haven't been sexually active in a while. or that movie that had hot scenes with your favorite actor... gosh you were a horny mess.
but your life has basically been all about your studies lately, and the stress was clouding your reasoning, making you feel like impulsive decisions were now worth a lot, and that's how you found yourself standing outside your bathroom door, idly looking at it with your hand raised, on the way to give it a knock.
the thing is, the moment you found the courage to do it, the door opened from the inside, and only mingi's torso popped out, in the middle of calling your name, but now confused that you were on the other side.
all that led to the both of you sitting on the edge of your bed, with him only wearing a towel around his hips, not staring at each other as the silence overcame the storm from outside.
"so... you want to suck my dick...?" he simply repeated your words from minutes ago.
it would be comical if it wasn't so tragic.
"yes."
"are you feeling okay?" he asked.
"yes."
"'then... how should we do it?"
you took another sharp breath, your lungs almost failing you as your mind tried to disassociate from your body. leaving the bed to kneel in front of him, you kept your eyes focused on his face, his lips parted as his eyes were half-lidded. from all the years you'd known him, you knew that he was probably overthinking it and trying to figure out what was happening. but neither you could tell.
your fingers slid to the towel and as you were going to take it off, his hand flew to yours, holding it softly. he pulled you towards him in a swift movement and placed his palm on your cheek, nose now brushing against yours. soon after, you felt the plumpness of his lips onto yours.
"wait" he leaned back cautiously, as though any minor movement would startle you like a scared kitten. his eyes overthinking each and every detail. "I want to kiss you first."
and as if you were waiting for that to snap, you grabbed his neck and pulled his face lower so you could slide your tongue into his mouth. his big hands fell to your hips and grabbed firmly, decided not to let you run away.
you kinda wondered before how good of a kisser mingi was, your friends joked around saying that it must be good since he has fat lips, but you usually kept those thoughts at bay, not really wanting to dive into your hidden desires. it wasn't like you, to explore and try new things. you became friends a long time ago, and when he earned that title, you felt like it would be too messy to see him as anything else.
but you weren't dumb, of course you'd noticed how a blush crept to his cheeks whenever you grabbed one of his hoodies, or how he would stutter when others teased him about you. he wasn't good at hiding things, and you weren't good at ignoring them.
one of his hands snuck to your neck and the pulled you closer, his breathing growing heavier to the point that you could hear a faint groan from his throat.
shit, you moaned.
he let go of your face and you leaned back, a little ashamed of the noise that escaped you, but mingi didn't seem to mind, in fact, his cheeks could be mistaken to a tomato. he shifted in his place and you noticed the tent in his pants. oh.
placing a final kiss on his cheek, you maintained eye contact as you lowered yourself to your knees, hands falling to his covered member, feeling the warmth through the towel and earning a sharp gasp from him. licking your lips, you only broke the intense stare to undo the lousy knot, uncovering his lower body.
oh. OH.
how did he hide that monstrous thing all along?
"uh... pants, I guess..." he said almost in a whisper, and then you realized that you were thinking out loud.
"shit, I mean, it's not a bad thing" you placed your hand at the base of his cock, wrapping your palm around it and the boy hissed. "I just... didn't expect that."
"so you thought about it before?" touché. you deflected by giving him a slow tug.
before he could say anything else, you lowered your head and wrapped your lips around him.
"fffuck-" he let out, throwing his head back.
you started bobbing your head at a slower pace, quickening each time he groaned, and listened to his raspy moans as if they were songs hidden in heaven. his hand ran through your hair, pulling at the strands just light enough to make you whine, the vibrations helping into the pleasure.
"please—" he pled, eyes fixated on you and wet hair sticking to his face. he couldn't look any better, you noted.
mingi stared right into your soul with deep, dark eyes. his nose was flaring up and trying to keep up with the sharp breaths that left his parted mouth. it was as if he belonged in that position, and you wished that you had midas touch to keep him like that forever.
"so pretty" you said more to yourself than to him, and one of your fingers snuck into his mouth, and he wrapped those plump lips around it to suck.
feeling his tongue under your skin made shivers run down your spine, and even though you tried to take in more, he pulled you towards him once more, now landing you onto his lap. mind you, his naked lap. your pajama shorts did nothing to the mixture of pre-cum and saliva that rubbed under fabric. you hoped he couldn't feel the wetness that was forming between your legs.
kissing you again, you wondered how your teeth were not clashing at all from the desperation that exuded from both parts. you wanted him as much as he ever had wanted you, and it didn't seem like a real experience. the euphoria that overtook you made you feel almost dizzy from all the exchange in pheromones and fluids, holy fuck, you wanted to stay like that forever.
while he kissed you, mingi's hand went to the bottom of your shorts, holding you so you wouldn't fall as he took them off, leaving you in his hoodie and panties. you didn't remember what kind of underwear you wore, but you hoped to whatever god that was out there that it was something without a hole or anything.
without taking the panties off, he slid them to the side and ran both his middle and ring fingers along your folds, the new feeling making you jump a little, and he giggled. the motherfucker giggled.
"jeez... can't wait to be inside you" he said against your lips, hissing as you gave him an experimental roll of your hips.
holding your panties to the side, he grabbed his cock and aligned himself to your folds, placing the tip inside and a loud whimper fell from your mouth. you knew that it would take more effort to get him inside, he was the biggest you've ever been with, and mingi also seemed to notice that, so he touched you as if you were made of glass.
the warmth of his hot member now sheathing inside your pussy felt like too much, and the room felt foggy, just as your breaths. he kissed the side of your neck, licking up to your ear and groaning ever so slightly, as if he had noticed how much you reacted to those sounds, using them now against you.
the moment you reached the bottom, you felt as if your internal organs would combust. his dick felt like too much and too good, you drank from the sensations and the tingles that your body left each time he moved an inch, clenching around him. you reached your hands to the hem of the hoodie you were wearing, but his hand left your lower back to stop yours.
"leave it on" he looked up at your face with puppy eyes. "I want to fuck you in my clothes."
OH. FUCK.
you moaned into his mouth and slowly started to move your hips. you could've cum just from his words, but you tried your best to concentrate in making him feel good.
"you feel so good around me" he whined, a short moan leaving his lips to meet yours again.
you didn't know how you looked at that moment, probably a mess. from taking in all the sensations, his huge cock and the way he looked like a whiny mess under you... you felt powerful, and he was letting you use him to your wishes.
"please, please" he whined even more, probably taking notes that you got off from that.
"what is it, big boy?" as soon as the words fell from your mouth, you questioned yourself. is this really me?
"let me fuck you right" his hips shot up, taking you by surprise with a gasp and he bit your collarbone. "I wanna be good for you- wanna make you feel good."
"use me however you want" you said in a desperate tone. not even minding how it looked to him, you truly wanted everything from him.
with one arm sneaking around your back and the other on your neck, he moved you further into the bed, now on top of you. he didn't say anything else, only left a small kiss on the corner of your mouth and gave you a slow thrust.
the most high pitched moan fell from your lips, and you didn't care to be embarrassed. not when he was pleading for you, having your body wrapped so deliciously around him, the same as his.
you could write paragraphs and paragraphs about the way he looked; the occasional lightnings shining against his wet skin, highlighting each of his curves and muscles while his hair fell above his forehead, now a mess from the way you rushed your fingers between strands.
mingi kept rolling his hips against yours, and words kept falling randomly from your mouth, meddling with moans and sobs, you felt so cockdrunk that even the slightest stimulation coming from him could make you shed tears. felt so fucking good that got you questioning every life choice you've ever made to this point, as if everything was a part of god's plan for you to end up right under your best friend, as his touches made love to your limbs.
"hm-ugh- feels so fucking- oh my god" you kept going on and on, not even sure yourself what you were saying, but mingi wasn't falling behind.
the knot had already taken place on your lower body, each of his thrusts feeling more intense than the other. you could tell he was getting closer from the way his teeth were nipping on your neck and his thrust were growing sloppier.
"please-ah!-please, let me cum inside you" he left your neck to look at you, and you felt the knot tightening and your legs starting to tremble. "let me fill you nice and full- please"
"yes, I want all of you" you almost screamed when he took that as confirmation to grab your back and glue his chest to yours, sharpening his thrusts.
it finally snapped and you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore. he held you so close as if he could melt into your skin and become one, and with a final thrust, he whined and groaned and screamed and did everything so involuntarily, almost animalistic, and your mind was too dazed to even comprehend anything else besides the way that your pussy gripped him so tight, keeping his hot seed inside you. you didn't want to let it go.
you were still spasming from your orgasm when he let go of your body and snapped your legs apart, taking place in between them, nuzzling his nose onto your pubic bone and feasting. his tongue lapped each of yours and his juices without mind, sucking, kissing, moaning, grunting, only to prolong the way your climax came down; you screamed so hard that your lungs burned.
falling limp on the bed covers, he let go, going back on top of you with the support of his arms and knees, face leveled to yours when he placed an innocent kiss on the tip of your nose and another one to your forehead.
"did it help you de-stress?" he joked and you placed one of your arms onto your eyes.
scoffing, you shook your head. "holy shit, I'm in love with you."
he gave you a slight push and rolled to his side, still staring at you with a darker flush across his chest and neck.
"well, I'm yours" he said and you licked your lips, sneaking a glance from under your arm.
"yeah, you better be."
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mrsmikaelsxn · 1 year
Text
Drunk In Love
masterlist
pairing: harry potter x female reader
warnings: fluff, mentions of drinking
summary: harry got drunk and when his friend dropped him off to you, he forgot you were his girlfriend
a/n: i thought this was cute, currently watching poa while writing this
song: kiss me - sixpence none the richer
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You were lying in bed with your pajamas while reading a book. Downstairs there was a Gryffindor party in the common room, but you had a bit of a headache so you decided staying in your dorm would be better.
Your reading was interrupted when you heard knocking on the door.
"Who is it?" you call as you place the book down and stand up.
"It's Ron... and Harry!"
You go and open the door and smile at two of your favorite people.
"Hello," you smile at them.
Harry's eyes were closed as he leaned on the door frame and Ron was holding him up with on arm.
"Hi, I came to bring Harry. He had too much Firewhisky and then started to shout about how he wanted you, so I figured it was best to bring him here before he embarrasses himself more," he quickly explains.
"Classic Harry, thanks for bringing him Ron," you laugh.
Ron pulls him and places him in your arms. You thank him again, he tells you to come get him if you need anything and he goes back downstairs to the party.
"Hi Harry," you say while brushing some hair off his forehead with your fingers.
"Ah! Don't touch my hair," he says in alarm with slurred words.
"Why not," you frown.
"Only my girlfriend can do that"
"Oh really?" you grin.
"Yep," he hiccups.
You sit him down on the bed and fix his glasses that were falling down his nose, you kiss his forehead and he lets out a shriek.
"My girlfriend is going to kill me," he mumbles in horror and wipes away your kiss with his hand.
"Who is this girlfriend of yours?"
"Y/n," he sighs dreamily falling back onto the bed.
"Wanna tell me about her?"
"She's perfect. She's so sweet too, shes like- like- a rainbow of happiness"
"A rainbow of happiness?" you giggle at his words.
"Mhm, she is like- so pretty that I'm jealous, and everyone loves her. She plays with my hair, and holds my hand everywhere, and I love kissing her. Her mouth is so amazing-" Harry smiles while he thinks of you.
You started to blush at his words and he continued to ramble about the things he loves about you.
"I'm going to marry her one day," he blurts out with red cheeks.
"W-what?"
"Do you think she would marry me? Oh! I need to start planning," he stands up and stumbles to the desk to find paper.
"Woah, woah, you can plan another time, and I'm sure she would be more than happy to marry you," you tell him as you bring him back to the bed.
You go to take his shirt off to change him into his pajamas, but he tugs his shirt back down.
"Don't look!" Harry exclaims, worry clear on his face.
"Fine, if I close my eyes will you change into these clothes?"
"Yes, turn and cover your eyes. No peeking!"
"No peeking, got it," you laugh.
He changes fast and he tells you that you can look again.
"Y/n is the only person who can see me like that. Not a random girl in my room- do you think she'll be mad at me because you're here?"
"Umm- lets just get your teeth and hair brushed"
"Okay," he sighs.
You bring him to the bathroom and hand him his toothbrush and watch him struggle to keep his eyes open.
You brush his hair and when you both finish you two lay on the bed.
His eyes are falling shut as you hand him water to drink. He spills it on himself when he misses his mouth. You laugh and say a spell to dry him and the bed.
"Night, mystery person. Tell y/n I said goodnight and I love her if you see her," he whispers drifting off to sleep.
"Okay, goodnight Harry," you kiss his head.
The next morning you had so much fun teasing him about the previous night.
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xob1tchs · 9 months
Note
“You belong to me” “only me” “you’re mine” “flirt with someone else, watch what’s going tk happen to you” smut with rafe
call me fucking dumb
rafe cameron x fem!reader
warnings; crying, overstimulation, dirty talk, unprotected sex
a/n; honey im hoooome 😇 sorry for the impromptu hiatus! I was moving 😵‍💫 anyways…this is the title inspo ;p and also p short…and not really edited!
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your fingers tighten around his firm bicep, swollen lips parting in a strained breath, toes lifting off the ground, free hand taking purchase against the dresser top – just in time to prevent you from toppling over the edge.
“s-slow down baby! m’gonna cum again” you plead, eyes screwing shut, tears welling at your lash line, thighs tensing.
rafe hums, cock thrusting into you harsher, making your pussy squeeze, juices seeping out around the base, squelching from your wetness.
you cum for the umpteenth time, voice raspy and strained as you cry out, tears finally cascading down your red cheeks.
you twitch beneath rafe, cunt so sensitive it hurts, knocking the breath from your lungs when he doesn’t let up.
“you didn’t care when you were all over jj did you? acting like a slut, right infront of me” he complains lowly, voice smooth in your ear, unwavering.
it’s frustrating, prompting you to whine out, begging for mercy, only to be met with a scoff “you think you deserve to be treated good? deserve anything at all?” he chuckles, making you sob harder.
“i-i-i promise rafe, promise’ll be good, i am go-good” you stutter, hiccuping around your words, nails drawing blood against the firm muscle of his back.
his pace slows only slightly, enough for him to lean back and look into your eyes, hand gripping your jaw, fingers pressing into the hollows of your cheeks, steadying you.
“you’re fucking mine, my perfect little slut” he barks, sending you over the edge yet again, earning a incoherent ramble from you, mindlessly agreeing, drooling down his knuckles, eyes rolling to the back of your skull.
“pull some shit like that again, see what happens” he smirks as you slump forward into his chest, barely conscious, but still you nod, agreeing to whatever he says. like you always do.
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3K notes · View notes
koqabear · 10 months
Text
love fool ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
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♫: Seven, Jungkook // Lovefool, The Cardigans // I only want to be with you, Tommy february6
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“In which Yeonjun is more than willing to show you the lengths he’ll go for you.”
yeonjun x fem!reader
Genre: established relationship, inspired by “Seven” mv, fluff, angst, smut
Word count: 10.6K
warnings: don’t take this story seriously pls. it’s ridiculous. yj is clingy. and emotional. and a bit pathetic. the mc is avoidant… and a bit of a bitch ! Lack of communication smh, a bit toxic if u squint ur eyes but it’s supposed to be cute idk (seven mv type toxic skdjdj) yj is a frat boy & a himbo (pick a struggle, pls), arguing, mc has acrylic nails, use of the phrase “boyfriend-girlfriend” bc i’m obsessed w it
smut warnings: mean dom!mc, sub!yj, (mentions of dom!yj) service top!yj, unprotected sex, manhandling (m. rec), hairpulling, name calling, (bitch, stupid, slut, etc) pet names (baby, good boy), dry humping, biting, marking, scent kink (?), scratching, dumbification, dacryphilia, forced orgasm (kinda), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, yj rambles. a lot. breast play, handjob, humiliation, creampie, subspace, implied oral (f. rec) (lemme know if i should add anything!)
Notes: fucking hate arguing with men w/ pretty puppy eyes like i will fuck the shit outta y-
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Yeonjun hates when you’re mad at him. It makes him feel guilty and leaves him with a gross feeling in his stomach, pouty and annoying as his friends are always left to deal with the mess. 
It doesn’t happen often— he tries his hardest not to make you mad, always saying yes and going above and beyond with you— he loves to please you and make you happy, which is exactly why it hits harder when you look at him like you never want to see him again. 
“I don’t want to see you around, don’t talk to me!”
But sometimes, he just can’t help it. 
He seriously doesn’t know what he did wrong— there were no anniversaries forgotten, no plans he stood you up on, no petty arguments— and yet, here he sits, sinking into his couch and burrowed in blankets as his friends try to get him to come out of his cocoon, all with no success.
“Is she mad at you again?” Beomgyu asks, his voice muffled despite sitting on top of Yeonjun— literally, he couldn’t feel his legs— and he hears him groan at the sight of Yeonjun nodding under the mass of blankets, cursing quietly to himself and undoubtedly rolling his eyes, “dude, what did you do?”
“I don’t knowww,” Yeonjun cries out, throwing the blankets off him and onto Beomgyu as he whines— he watches as Beomgyu flails about for a second, running his hands through his hair as he continues to stress about you, “she— she said she didn’t wanna see me again, but I miss her…”
“Fuck, she’s probably just saying that because she wants space— dude, are you crying?”
“What if she was breaking up with me?” Yeonjun asks, and Beomgyu is amazed to see the way his wide eyes are welling up with tears; god, he’s actually crying now, the sight childish and unhinged as he watches his (older) friend sniffle and hiccup through his sentences, “what if— what if she— she, she, she really meant it— god, I don’t wanna break up, I don’t even know what I did wronggg!”
“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu grimaces, watching the way his friend breaks down before his eyes; his hand is stiff and awkward as it pats Yeonjun’s back, trying his best to comfort him, wincing at the way Yeonjun only cries harder, “It’s… probably nothing, I’m sure she’ll talk to you again tomorrow, or once she’s calmed down.”
“You think?” Yeonjun asks, peeking through his hands and up at Beomgyu with sparkling eyes, full of hope as Beomgyu can only crack a nervous smile.
“Yeah,” he says, patting Yeonjun’s back again in reassurance, “Yeah— just, be patient, okay?”
Patient is the last word one would use to describe Yeonjun. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
MONDAY
This is it. 
Yeonjun has been waiting all weekend for this moment (Or just Sunday, to be more accurate), restless on his feet as he finds himself pacing back and forth— he’s nibbling at his lip nervously, arms sore and tired from the weight of the gift he holds in his hands; a bouquet of your favorite flowers, pristine and in full bloom— it’s large and quite heavy as it practically covers his face, but Yeonjun knew that a small bouquet would do nothing to show his love for you. 
He would try to talk to you as soon as your class ended. He needed to know what he did wrong, and he sure as hell would not do it again. You didn’t text him after the argument, and it only left him uneasy at the thought of you really wanting to end things.
He didn’t want to lose you. Not like this. 
Admittedly, he got a bit ahead of himself— he’s been waiting outside for the past half hour, arriving much too early as he stood out in the hall awkwardly— at some point, he tried peeking into the small, rectangular window next to the door, hunched over slightly and pouting as he scanned the room for you. 
When he spotted you, he was delighted to see you had already been looking at him. 
He couldn’t contain the wide smile that stretched across his face, waving at you excitedly in hopes you’d do the same— unable to realize that the whole class was now looking at him, he was confused to watch the way your face screwed up into an expression of sheer embarrassment, shielding your face with your hand and looking away as some students began following his line of sight. 
Why did you do that? You were ignoring him, and it hurt like a bitch as Yeonjun frowned. His mind was racing as he began wondering what he might’ve done wrong— he was so focused, in fact, that he failed to notice the professor blocking his view, his reaction time much too slow as his eyes flickered up to meet the man’s gaze. Flustered, he backed away quickly, his face heating up as he bowed in apology— he hugged the bouquet close to his chest as he did, mumbling out a soft sorry the man probably couldn’t even hear. 
You, on the other hand, could hear the way your professor laughed at Yeonjun’s actions, absolutely mortified by the way he turned around and began to joke to the class, saying that “It looks like someone here has an admirer,” whilst looking in your direction, your classmates laughing along before he went back to his lecture.
Shit, this was so embarrassing. 
Yeonjun is so fucking stupid, you cry to yourself, peeking over at the doorway in hopes that he took the hint and left— but no, he definitely didn’t, because you could still see his figure through the window, leaning against the wall and holding an item the size of his whole upper body close to his chest. 
The last thing you wanted to do was go outside and see him— but that’s exactly what happened anyway, even if you lingered behind once class ended in hopes that Yeonjun would get impatient and wait— patience was never his strongest virtue, after all. 
But for you, anything could change. 
This is exactly why you find him outside the door, face hidden with what is, to your surprise, a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. 
Fuck, you seriously don’t want to talk to him right now. Gritting your teeth, you use this moment to sneak past him, a slight guilt tugging at you as you look back, spotting the way he seems oblivious to the fact that you’ve left already. 
Looking back was your first mistake.
Because Yeonjun, in a truly creepy fashion, is almost able to sense it, whipping his head to you and perking up at the way you only walk faster— then begin sprinting, refusing to look back again once he starts chasing after you. 
“Baby,” you hear him call out to you, the ridiculous rustling of his bouquet slightly muffling his words as his footsteps thud against the tiles; for an athlete, you’d expect him to catch up to you already, but you quietly pat yourself on the back for the slight head start you gave yourself. 
“Baby, wait!” he continues to yell, ignoring the strange stares from those passing by, “Please, let me talk to you!” 
“I don’t wanna talk!” you growl out, your emotions taking over as you remember why you’re mad at him, “leave me alone!”
You’re outside now; you’re a huffing and sweaty mess, but you refuse to slow down for even a second, the threat of Yeonjun hot on your heels fueling your stamina. 
“Can you please tell me what I did wrong?” He yells, exasperated as he watches you run off the sidewalk— you’re attempting to lose him, but countless running drills and morning runs have prepared him for this moment— without a second thought, he’s following you, attempting to peek over his— inconveniently large, he must admit— bouquet, watching the way you simply continue to run, glancing back every once in a while to see if he’s still there. 
“Please, can we be civil and talk about this?!” his words have you turning around to send him a glare— instead, you stumble to a stop as you watch Yeonjun trip, eyes widening at the dramatic sight before you. 
He’s fallen flat on his face, a puff of petals blowing up around him as you wince— he’s face-first into whatever’s left of the flowers, the rest of the petals fluttering in the air around him and falling delicately on his figure as you stare, the place eerily silent save for the chirping birds and rustling leaves.
He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t even attempt to get up, left splattered all over the grass as you stare at him in slight concern. 
“Yeonjun?” you call out uncertainly, shifting on your feet as you pause. He doesn’t respond— he’s left frozen on the ground, and you’re frowning at the sight as you slowly make your way to him; you approach him slowly, as though you were approaching a wild animal, tense in your movements as you lean in to observe him. 
“Did you die?” you ask quietly, taking in the way he still hasn’t moved. Not an inch. You feel more concerned than you want to admit, crouching down in front of him as you bite your lip in worry. 
“Do you hate me.” the sudden words have you flinching, staring down at Yeonjun, who’s still eating dirt and flowers. You frown, scoffing at the way he weakly reaches out for you— swiftly, you slap his hand, watching the way it flops back onto the ground. 
“No— yes— a little,” you stutter out, angry at the way you bounce between responses just from the mere pathetic sight of him. 
“Can you forgive me?” he asks, the words muffled as it takes you a minute to decipher what he may be saying— you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.  
“For what?” you ask, picking a petal off his back absentmindedly as you wait— if he could answer properly, you might consider giving in. 
“For existing.” 
God, Yeonjun was such a sap. It has you biting back a smile as you resist the urge to stroke his hair, mused and riddled with petals from his grand gesture— but his answer was not the one you were looking for, and you’re standing back up and readjusting your clothes without another word. 
“pleaaaaseee,” you hear him whine, watching the way he shrivels up into a ball— then, he’s sitting back on his legs, whipping his head up and looking at you with wide, teary eyes. 
“Please take the flowers with you at least,” he pouts, thrusting the bouquet— or, whatever was left of it— up at you with pleading eyes.
Pressing your lips together, you sigh; a moment passes before you’re taking the gift from him begrudgingly, ignoring the way he perks up happily at your action. 
“I’m still mad at you,” you hiss, and he immediately deflates at your words, “Don’t visit my class like that again. Please.” 
He says nothing, left to watch as you turn your back to him and walk away; he has yet to get up, his heart pounding against his chest as he watches the way you hug the flowers close to you, shaking your head at the state of them. 
This was�� progress. 
But you’re still mad at him. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
TUESDAY
Visiting you in class was a big no. 
Visiting you in general, however, wasn’t off-limits.
You don’t want to talk to him? Fine, he can understand. In fact, he won’t talk to you at all— a feat much greater said than done— but hey, he always loved staring at you anyway. 
Well, it’s a little hard to stare by the way you’ve propped up textbooks around your face like a fort. 
He’s staring. He’s still staring. You can practically feel his puppy-eyed gaze burn into your brain telepathically; no matter how hard you try to focus on your work, it’s become damn near impossible with the way you can feel Yeonjun’s presence, your neck beginning to ache from the way you’ve remained ducked down this whole time. 
It was easy to deal with at first; you chose not to do anything the moment you saw Yeonjun emerge from the staircase and onto the top floor of the library— otherwise known as the quietest level. 
He wouldn’t be able to talk to you without disturbing the peace of others— and potentially being asked to leave— so you decided to not make a scene and go back to studying, even when you felt his eyes lock on your figure and beeline to you. 
He sat across from you first. Though, you were quick to move, pretending as though you were looking for a book as you quickly ran away to the other side of the library. You felt the way his eyes followed you the whole time— he looked like a kicked puppy, and damn did that stupid tactic of his always work, because you even felt yourself pausing for a second, wondering if you should give in and talk to him. 
But, you are a horrendously petty person.
You were holed up in some random corner. You didn’t even know there was a table there until today, the spot so secluded and quiet that you silently celebrated getting him off your trail.
It was peaceful— for like, a good ten minutes. 
You didn’t think much of it when you first heard it; footsteps, slow and calculated as they rounded about the bookshelves. You could hear the sound of books being pulled out clear as day, though you chose to ignore it all and keep focus on your assignments instead. 
After a moment, the footsteps disappeared. 
It was back to being completely silent. And, in your bored state, you began to look around the area you were huddled up in; curiously, you allowed yourself to walk around, reading the spines and pulling out books that seemed to pique your interest even slightly. 
There seemed to be another person here as well— maybe it was the same person as before, or maybe it was someone new— you didn’t pay mind to it nonetheless, continuing your journey as your eyes locked in on a particularly colorful book.
Slowly, you pulled it out— on the other side, you watched the book adjacent to yours slowly get pulled out as well, and a smile tugged at your lips at the odd coincidence. 
Then, your eyes met with Yeonjun’s. 
His gaze filled with admiration was only returned with a mean scowl from you. You were quick to shove the book back into its place, storming off to your table without a moment’s hesitation. 
Yeonjun was quickly able to find your hiding spot— one might think you could cry from the way you buried your face into your hands defeatedly, refusing to look up from your dark refuge as the sounds of a chair scraping against the carpeted floors met your ears. 
That’s how you found yourself here, ignoring what people might think as you hide behind your fortress of textbooks. You didn’t feel good staying in a secluded area with Yeonjun— not because you thought he might try to do anything— but because you were afraid of your own resolve crumbling, especially after you’d spent so much time trying to ignore him. 
You wonder if he’s still here. Who are you kidding, of course he’s still here, though you can’t really bring yourself to check and see for yourself. 
After a while, you hear scribbling sounds. 
You can’t hide the way you jump as a piece of paper hits your head, folded into a perfect heart and landing in front of you with a dull thud. 
Open me :( it says, and though you wish you could say you were strong enough to ignore it, you definitely aren’t.
Can you pls let me look at u at least?
You don’t get much of a moment to process the message. Another paper lands directly in front of you, shaped into a heart and scrawled with the same words as the last— slowly, you open it, dreading what might be written inside this time. 
I miss you so so so so so much. 
You shake your head at his words. Sliding the paper to the side, you ignore his request, choosing to focus on your work instead of giving in to his silly tactics. After a moment, you wonder if you’ll be getting another paper— instead, nothing happens; the sigh of relief you let out is almost comical, your body relaxing a bit as you allow yourself to wonder if he’s finally left. 
That was your second mistake. 
Because after a few minutes, another paper hits you. It’s another heart, and you find that you don’t need to open it this time, the message scrawled on top for easier access. 
I’m sorry. 
Another paper flies over your fortress.
I’m sorry.
Then, another. 
Pls forgive me.
Then another. And another, and another, and another. 
Pls, I hate making you mad. I feel so gross and sad rn. I seriously can’t go a day without you. I miss you sm, pls :(((
You feel like you’re under attack— the way he continues to throw paper after paper is rhythmic and almost impressive, the endless stream of hearts covering your keyboard and forcing you to sweep them to the side after seconds. 
It’s useless to study. How can you, when Yeonjun keeps throwing his apologies at you? It’s stupid and childish and is enough for you to take your textbooks down, your jaw clenched and your eyes pointed in a sharp glare that has Yeonjun pausing in his actions. 
There’s a small pile of hearts next to him. 
Neither of you move— he’s frozen mid-throw, his eyes widening as though he can’t grasp the fact that you’re actually looking at him— even if it’s filled with rage and annoyance. 
Slowly, the corners of his lips curl up— you can’t find it in you to react as he throws the paper in his hands, feeling the way it smacks right onto your forehead before it falls to the table. 
Can I show u how sorry I am??
You don’t seem to think of the consequences as you reach for your bag in the seat next to you— devoid of anything except a few pencils and your hoodie— and throw it at him, watching the way he yelps in surprise, your bag spilling out it’s few contents all over the floor. The sound is enough to have the people around you glancing at your table, curious or angry at the sound of the ruckus. 
You’re worked up and huffing as you watch Yeonjun scramble to gather the spilled contents of your bag, watching as he stutters out whispered apologies between his actions. 
“Excuse me,” the hand on your shoulder is firm as you twist your head to look at the librarian, your expression falling at the realization of what you’ve just done. 
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 
Whipping your head around, you meet eyes with a sheepish and guilty Yeonjun, gritting your teeth as he holds out your bag for you to take. 
Wordlessly, you snatch it from him, shoving your computer and the rest of your items into it before you’re turning around to face the librarian; you whisper out a soft “I’m so sorry” as you bow in apology, waiting for her to leave before you’re facing Yeonjun again. 
I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, he mouths to you, though you ignore it all as you choose to whack his shoulder with your very-full bag instead; the pained whimper he lets out has you gritting your teeth in irritation, watching the way he pouts up at you as he rubs his arm pathetically. 
“Don’t pull this shit again,” you hiss out, storming off before he can get another word out. 
There goes all his progress. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
WEDNESDAY
Today has been an oddly nice day.
It’s nice— too nice, you wonder, pondering what may be different enough to have you walking with a smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful weather in a light mood. 
A guy your age is leaning against a tree up ahead. He holds a bouquet of roses, and you smile at the way he seems to be passing one out to every person that passes him. That’s so sweet, you think to yourself, and you can’t help the way your stomach twists in anticipation the moment his eyes meet yours. 
“Would you like a rose?” he asks you, his blond hair shining under the sunlight as he sends you a bright smile— you don’t hesitate to say yes, taking the flower from him with a cute thank you! 
The flower is in full bloom as you twirl it between your fingers absentmindedly. The smile on your face is seemingly permanent as you make your way to your favorite cafe, though as you think back to the interaction, you can’t help but wonder if you know that man from somewhere.
It isn’t until you stop at a crosswalk that you notice it— there’s a tag on the rose, and though you initially thought it was just a price tag, you realize that it’s something else; pausing before you cross the street, you take a moment to tilt your head and read it, feeling your jaw drop as your brain registers the words in disbelief. 
Yeonjun says he’s sorry.
“What the fuck,” you mutter to yourself, ripping it off without hesitation and shoving it into your pocket— you definietly recognize the man from earlier, you realize— that was Hueningkai!
You roll your eyes at Yeonjun’s weak ploy to talk to you— you can’t help the way it leaves you irritated as you stand in line to order, trying your best to recite your regular order to the barista with a smile on your face, the man before you giving you a dimpled smile before he’s off to make it.
By the time you get your order, you’ve calmed down— you’re quick to exit and make your way back towards campus, using this small break between classes to study again. (without Yeonjun around, hopefully.) 
Your fingers are absentminded as you trace over the printed sticker on the side of the cup that has your order printed on it, glancing down at the text before you take another sip. 
Yeonjun is really sorry.
…What? 
You were more unnerved than anything. The lengths Yeonjun had gone through to communicate almost concerned you, though all you could do at this point was rip the sticker off and shove it in your pocket, ignoring it like the other one. You wracked your mind for answers as you began to wonder if you had seen that barista anywhere else, and after a moment, you settled on the vague conclusion that you think you’ve seen him in Yeonjun’s frat house before. 
He’s so annoying, you sigh to yourself, rubbing at your temples as you fear an upcoming headache. 
You’re startled back to life at the sight of a puppy running up to you— you’re frowning at the sight, unsure of what to do as it stops right at your feet, jumping up on you and barking excitedly— almost like it recognized you— squinting, you observe the dog. 
Oh god, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you do recognize this damn dog.
“Matcha, who let you out,” you huff, leaning down to scoop the tiny dog into your arms— in the distance, you can see someone running in your direction, though you choose to ignore it as you notice Matcha’s brand new collar. 
Yeonjun misses you more than anything. 
The words are wrapped around his collar, leaving you to throw your head back and groan at the sight; the footsteps are much louder than before, and you’re looking forward again as you spot yet another familiar face. 
“Beomgyu,” you sneer, shoving Matcha into his awaiting hands. All he can do is laugh sheepishly, muttering out what a coincidence! Petting Matcha, he pauses, giving you an expectant look that only leaves you confused.
“Could you forgive him?”
“Go away!” you say in return, weaving out of his way and practically running off to the library; you can hear Matcha barking at you, though you choose to ignore it as Beomgyu’s calls of your name fuel you further. 
You feel out of breath by the time you finally enter the library, finding the nearest help desk and beginning to rummage through your bag for any books you need renewed— the librarian simply smiles at you patiently as he waits, adjusting his glasses before he quickly turns around to get something— by the time he’s back, you’ve laid out your books for him, thanking him quietly as you watch him renew them quickly.
When he slides them back towards you, you frown— there’s a bookmark on top of your small stack of books, laminated and shiny under the lights as you pick it up to get rid of the glare— reading it, you can already feel the need to tear it, though it seems as this cheeky worker is already one step ahead of you. 
Yeonjun just wants to talk to you again.
Three ways to better communication in a relationship:
The glare you send the worker— Taehyun, his name tag reads— is lethal, though he doesn’t seem to be affected by it as he simply sends you an innocent smile. Without another word, you gather your books, shoving them into your bag as you turn to leave.
“Ignoring him won’t solve anything,” he calls out quietly, though you don’t seem to appreciate the advice by the way you don’t even bother to turn back and react. Instead, you walk right back out, storming home as you type on your phone furiously. 
my baby :((
stop using others to relay messages damn it!!!
my baby :((
and don’t use matcha against me you loser!!!!!!
Through his end, Yeonjun is just happy that you’re texting him— though, the mean name is not much appreciated. 
Choi Yeonjun. 
can you pls let me talk to you instead?
You don’t bother opening the notification. 
That was your third mistake.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
THURSDAY
Today has been relatively peaceful. You have yet to be bothered today— no Yeonjun, no Matcha, and certainly none of his friends. 
Maybe because he was aware of your plans today; you did tell him a while ago about your reunion with one of your friends, always chatting his ear off about how excited you were to finally see her again—it slightly warms your heart to know that he actually listens to you.
Well. Most of the time. 
“You’re fighting right now?” Tzuyu asks, leaning forward in her seat with wide eyes. You didn’t expect this sudden change of topic, but you can only nod grimly in response, watching as she sighs in dismay at your situation. 
“Wow, you guys never fight— at least, not to this level,” she’s deep in thought over your relationship as she frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares down at her empty plate— you both chose to forgo dessert, and now you wait patiently for your check.
“Well, what are you guys even fighting about?” 
“It’s just—“ you’re cut off by your server placing the check in between the two of you, thanking him with a smile on your face before you’re freezing; you’re unsure of what to make of the plate that he places before you, stuttering out unintelligible sentences that you didn’t order… whatever this was. 
“Free of charge,” the man says, before bowing politely and scurrying away; you’re barely able to get a word out before you huff in defeat, looking back at the treat in front of you as you take in Tzuyu’s amused laughter.
“What?” you ask, frowning as you watch her turn the plate towards you— you’re left a bit speechless by what you see, mouth falling open as your brain attempts to comprehend how you should react to this. 
It’s dessert— well, more specifically, three full scoops of ice cream, the caramel drizzle and other toppings decorating it to make it look like a cat; more specifically, a sad cat. All along the plate, more caramel drizzle decorates it to form a sentence. 
I miss you. Please, talk to me. YJ. 
Your head snaps up in the direction the waiter went in; looking out the small window of the kitchen door, you spot none other than Yeonjun, his eyes widening before he’s ducking out of the way like a deer in headlights. 
“How the fuck did he get back there?!” you cry out, running a hand down your face in disbelief— but no, one more glance back in his direction is enough to catch him peeking at you again, flinching in surprise before he’s ducking out of your sight once more. 
“Who let him in there?” you hiss, placing your head in your hands as Tzuyu merely laughs; you ignore the way she begins to dig into the dessert after you express that you won’t touch it, humming happily that it was a sweet gesture. 
A moment’s thought is able to remind you where you are— in Beomgyu’s older brother’s restaurant, of course. 
Defeatedly, you open the checkbook to offer to pay— though the price has your eyes practically bulging out, reading and re-reading the strange excuse of a check this waiter has brought to you. 
Your meal was free. 
The only thing you read on the paper was a poor excuse of Yeonjun replacing the food items with “i miss you”s and “i’m sorry”s, the sight baffling you as Tzuyu turns the check towards her in curiosity. 
“Interesting,” she hums, closing the checkbook before she’s fishing for tip money, “Are you sure you wanna lose a guy like him?”
You take a second to think her question through. 
Yet another mistake on your part. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
FRIDAY
Remembering what happened today is enough to have your head hurting— so, you’ll keep it short.
You were working— working, minding your own business, prey to unsuspecting events— when it happened. 
Fridays were always rush days. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think to pay attention to your surroundings, to the blasting music, the yell of your coworkers calling out drinks and names, or to the endless chatter of the customers around you. 
You should have paid attention— maybe, if you did, you would’ve been able to spare yourself the embarrassment— another mistake of yours, if you will. 
The break of music from the radio was not what caught your attention— radio hosts do it all the time, speaking in between songs with useless chatter as they find a song to play next— no, what did catch your attention, however, was the eerily familiar voice, and worse, the eerily familiar message he broadcasted all over your local station. 
“This next song is called Seven,” he spoke, smooth, suave, and relaxing as the track rolled in quietly in the background, “a song about a man more than willing to show how devoted he is to his to his partner— ___, come home, the kids miss you— well, more like Matcha, but still.”
You could feel your coworkers freeze around you. You could feel their gazes slowly drift to you, could feel the way customers got a good look at the decorated name tag you once showed off proudly. 
“Is— is he…?” your coworker whispered beside you, watching the way you caved into yourself in attempts to hide your nametag, “is he that frat boy you were talking about?”
“No.” you say, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you focus on making your drink instead, “No. That’s not him. This isn’t about me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“___, I’ll keep waiting for you patiently. Have a good shift today.” 
Christ!
Your coworkers could only laugh lightheartedly at his words— they found it cute, which was even worse for you, because all you could wonder was how the fuck he was able to get into the broadcast station— this time, you seriously couldn’t figure out any ties between him and the place. 
“Looks like he won’t give up,” to say you were horrified at the way a customer told you this was an understatement, her eyes alight with amusement as she spoke to you with a tone so genuine you almost thought she was in on it— fuck, maybe she was— “if anything, you should turn him down soon before he goes too far.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out, tired of these constant antics as you thought over her words, forced to go through the rest of your shift pretending as though Yeonjun hadn’t broadcasted his pleading message to the whole city— well, more like anyone who was listening to the local radio station willingly.
You feel like you’re on The Truman Show, or something.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
SATURDAY
You were scared to talk to Yeonjun. 
Scared— why were you scared? You don’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to send him a text message, pacing around your room like an idiot instead as you wondered what you would tell him. 
Would you talk? Would you finally break up with him?
The way your stomach sank with dread at the mere thought of the second option was enough of an answer for you— no, you shouldn’t break up with him.
However, it was storming today— there was no way in hell you would be going outside to meet him in such weather, so you opted to psych yourself up to send him a text message asking to meet up instead.
You were pacing around your room again when you noticed it. 
There’s a bright umbrella outside— shit, you recognize that umbrella, you realize with a heavy dread, walking up to your window and pulling your curtains open as you stare out in dismay.
Why the fuck is Yeonjun outside right now?
It’s perfect timing, the way his umbrella raises to show his figure; oh my god, you think to yourself, biting your lip as you take his expression in, he’s crying!
This was not your intention. You never meant to hurt Yeonjun like this, but you also were not ready to see him yet— so, with a slight pang in your heart, you shut the curtains again, leaving just enough of a crack to make sure that he’ll leave.
Instead, he stayed there. In true Yeonjun fashion, squinting up at your window in hopes that you’d at least tell him to go away. Instead, he watched as you peeked through the crack of the curtains, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you thought you were being discreet with your actions. 
Slowly, Yeonjun turns his phone to you; there’s writing flashing by in his phone, though you have to squint your eyes and wait for the whole sentence to roll by to see what he’s trying to tell you now. 
I know you don’t… want to see me… right now but I … seriously just need… to know what I … did wrong. 
God. Fuck. This whole “ghosting” ordeal was harder than it should be when someone like Yeonjun was involved. 
 It’s been like… a week and you… still haven’t talked… to me.
Oh, the guilt is seriously eating you up right now. You weren’t supposed to ignore him for days on end, but each time Yeonjun reached out for you, you couldn’t control the way you ran away in return, still hurt by the things he didn’t even realize he did.
You’ve finally gotten a good grasp of his obliviousness.
I’m sorry… I love you… I love you… I love you…
Only three words are rolling by on his phone now. You think you’ve gotten the gist of what he’s trying to tell you as you sink to the floor, out of sight and exasperated as you reach for your phone to make a call. 
“Hello?”
“Please come get Yeonjun. He’s outside my apartment in the freezing rain.”
“Uhm, let him in then?”
“I— I can’t,” you mutter sheepishly as you feel your face heating up, your stomach sinking as you hear Beomgyu scoffing on the other side of the line, “I don’t want to talk to him right now. Not like this.”
“Then I guess he’ll stay out in the freezing rain.” 
“He’ll get sick!” you say, and it’s only now that you feel stupid for this push and pull you’ve created, “please. I’m begging you.” 
“You need to talk to him.”
“I want to. I will.” you say, placing a hand on your forehead as you sigh, “Tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” 
A pause. Then, you hear rustling, and the sounds of Beomgyu grumbling quietly to himself.
“I’ll go get him,” he says, and you can feel yourself sink further against the wall in relief, “you better not back out on your word, okay?”
“Okay.” 
You hope you’re not making a mistake. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
SUNDAY
This is awkward. You feel awkward. You probably look awkward, too. 
Yeonjun, for once, looks just as awkward and tense before you. His whole body is rigid as he sits on your couch, feeling more like a stranger in your home than the man you’ve spent the past few months with, the way his eyes wander around making you feel like it’s his first time here. 
“Yeonjun,” you sigh out, catching his attention as his eyes zero in on you immediately; you feel nervous under his gaze, unsure of what to say as your brain begins to stutter, your mouth opening and closing in hopes that a proper sentence will come out.
“What did I do wrong?” he cries out, snapping you out of your troubled reverie as your eyes meet his— they’re glossy, and you’re afraid he might just start crying again if you look away, “can we start there?”
“You— you seriously don’t know?” you ask, bewildered by his question as you sit back on your couch— Yeonjun simply shakes his head reverently in response, and you’re blinking owlishly at him as you stare at him in disbelief. 
“We didn’t have any arguments before this,” he says, nibbling on his lip as he thinks back to the moment you yelled at him, tearing his arm off you as he attempted to keep you from running away, “You just snapped at me then disappeared— I, I want to know what I did wrong, at least.”
“Yeonjun you—“ you’re dragging a hand down your cheek as you clench your jaw, taking a second to breathe to not snap at him again, “that’s the problem, you’re just so— so oblivious, I seriously thought you’d be able to put two and two together by now!” 
Oh, oh this is embarrassing; you should not be getting worked up right now, your hands immediately coming up to hide your face as you hear Yeonjun cooing out your name softly— he’s next to you at the speed of light, attempting to take your hands away as he quietly tells you to breathe in his stupid, calming voice. 
“You’re always at those stupid parties, you stupid frat boy—“ you’re stuttering through your sentences, the heat in your face humiliating as you feel your emotions finally tumbling down, “and I know I told you I’m okay with it— I am, I really am— but what I’m not okay with is how fucking flirty you are!”
You can feel Yeonjun’s hands stiffen; slowly, his mouth drops in shock, his face beginning to pale as he realizes just why you’re mad at him. 
“I’ve told you— time, and time again— that, that I don’t like when you feed into people like that, that you never reject advances and tell them that you have a fucking girlfriend,” you know he never means it in a harmful way. You know that, nine times out of ten, Yeonjun doesn’t even realize those advances are happening, but it’s always just as painful to watch, knowing that charming attitude and cheeky voice is exactly how he got you, “and it just makes me feel so… so stupid and jealous and unwanted!” 
You feel out of breath by the time you finish. Though you remain silent and try to calm yourself, you instead begin to feel more anger festering inside you as you take in Yeonjun’s face, full of dread and realization as he begins to think back to how he was acting back at the frat party that caused this mess. 
Yeonjun was used to people acting the way they did around him. It never fazed him, and most of the time he simply followed along because he found it fun. No, he never thought of having anyone else but you, you’re his everything— though, he does realize how inconsiderate he’s been of your feelings now. 
“Baby, baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his words genuine and filled with guilt as he cups your face gently, “I didn’t know.”
“Fuck!” Your response is unprecedented as you shake his hands off you, pushing him back and forcing him to lay across the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. He’s unable to do anything as he watches the way you throw your legs on each side of his waist, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tugging him up as you sneer at him.
“That’s your problem, you just don’t know—!” pushing him back on the couch, he lets out a soft oof! unable to help the way his stomach swirls in anticipation of your next move, “You’re just too stupid, you don’t know anything unless someone spells it out for you!”
Shit. Yeonjun has never seen you like this, frustrated and restless as you shift above him, your eyes alight with rage as you begin tugging your hoodie over your head; his eyes widen comically at the action, shifting nervously under you as he realizes that oh, you’re not wearing a bra. 
“You’ve seriously left me wondering if you’re even taking this relationship seriously, it’s ridiculous!” Yeonjun feels like he’s been left on autopilot as he lets you tug him up again; he’s sitting up, hands hovering precariously as you glare at him, the sight enough to have him gulping nervously.
“I— I do,” he stutters out, watching as you send him an accusing look, “I do, I do I do, I take you so seriously, and fuck, I haven’t been thinking of anyone but you all week.” 
“Yeah?” you ask him, patronizing and unexpectedly mean as you look down at him, “You never fucking act like it.”
“Yes I do—!” he yells out, though it’s cut off by the way you sit down firmly in his lap, a hand threading into his hair and yanking at the roots as you tug his head back cruelly, “I’ve shown you this whole week just how much I think about you…” 
Yeonjun is hard. Painfully so, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get turned on so quickly— it’s enough to have you laughing breathily, tugging on his hair again and listening to the way he only lets out a high whine in response.
“What you’ve shown me this week,” you hiss, bringing him close to you, your lips grazing against his as you speak, “is that you’re a desperate bitch that doesn’t know how to be patient.”
“You were ignoring me,” he fights back, letting out a breathy wince at the way your grip tightens on his hair, “you’ve been so mean to me—!”
Yeonjun doesn’t get another word in on the matter. The way you bite his lip ruthlessly and sneak your tongue into his mouth has you feeling the way he practically turns to putty under you, his cheeks just as red as his lips as he gasps against your own, feeling the way you begin to grind against his cock without remorse. 
“Me? I’ve been mean to you?” you wonder out loud, hands running down his chest before you’re tugging his shirt up; you don’t bother taking it off as it rests against his chest, leaning him back and running your hands over his skin as you take in the way his stomach twitches in response. “do you know how many people think they’ve actually got a chance with you, all because you refuse to use common sense and say, oh, I’ve got a girlfriend!” 
Yeonjun shakes his head; there’s no way your words are true, especially when he’s literally obsessed with you. But of course, you’re always right— which is exactly why you’re fueled to rake your nails down his skin, leaving him to hiss and twitch at the feeling of your acrylics digging into his stomach and leaving bright, red scratch marks— acrylics he paid for because he thought they were pretty, the reminder only making his cock twitch pathetically. 
“There’s no one in this world that has a chance with me but you,” Yeonjun insists, pouting at the way you only scoff at his words, “I’ve never done anything to fuel other people’s strange fantasies.”
“God, you’re stupid,” you say, and Yeonjun thinks he must’ve lost his mind from the way he can feel a whine building up in his throat, “and to think I found that endearing.”
“You’re so mean,” he pouts— though he’s quick to regret it, letting out a loud cry as you begin grinding against him, able to feel the warmth of your pussy through the thin shorts you wear, your breast bouncing from the way your body begins to move. 
“You don’t like it?” You ask, tilting your head to watch as he merely shakes his head in response— all you can do is plant yourself to where you can feel his length pressed up against your slit, throbbing against you as you pout at him in false pity, “no you don’t like it, or no you do?”
“I— I…” he doesn’t know how to respond; it seems as though Yeonjun hasn’t figured out the response for himself, but you can feel it from the way his hips buck up into yours, stuttering and without rhythm as he remains defenseless under you. 
“You do like it,” you say, mocking at the way he only whimpers from the feeling of your nails digging into his hips, “Feels nice to be on the receiving end, baby?”
Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, this was strange and new and Yeonjun was definitely enjoying himself more than he thought he should, a melted pile of remorse and love as he pathetically waited for your next move, doe eyes staring up at you as he felt his mouth part, unable to say anything as he gave in to the mean look you sent him. 
“Been waiting patiently for me, hmm?” you ask him, thinking back to his earlier words as you watch him nod eagerly in confirmation, “So you bothering me every day of the week was you being patient?”
“I just wanted to talk,” Yeonjun whines out, chest heaving at the way you begin rolling your hips against his, your rhythm firm and dangerous as he feels weak moans leaving him like a stream, “but you— you kept avoiding me, I wanted to get some confirmation that you didn’t break up with me that day…!”
“Yeah?” you mock him, your voice just as whiny and breathy as his as you lean down to him; placing your hands on his chest, you tilt your head, grinding your cunt against him in a way that has him panting and looking for someplace to grab onto, “and did you get your answer?”
Yeonjun doesn’t even think he registered what you said. All he knows is that the way you’re sitting on him is genuinely cruel, especially with the way he hasn’t felt your body against his in so long. His mind is muddled and he can feel himself losing control from the way his hips begin to buck up, his brain going blank except for the thought that he hasn’t felt you against him in what seems like ages, his body so pent up with frustration that he can’t help but chase after the slight pleasure you offer him. 
Yeonjun’s mind has blanked out. You can see it in his face, the way it’s twisted with pleasure as he fails to respond to you, body bucking up into you so wildly that you have to steady yourself with two hands pressed firmly against his chest, your balance getting screwed over at his attempts to fuck up into you. 
The feeling of your warm hands is enough to bring Yeonjun back, eyes widening in realization as his eyes meet yours, clouded with so much need that it has Yeonjun slowing his pace immediately.
“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he stutters out, eyes widening at the way your cunt is practically leaking onto him— he can feel it through the layers of clothes, “wait wait wait, I’m so— ah, please— so… sososo close, baby, please…!”
“Wait?” you echo, brows furrowing as he nods frantically in response, “thought you didn’t like waiting?”
“No, please, please,” he whimpers, though his hips don’t stop their mindless rutting into your warm cunt, “please, don’t wanna come like this, wanna be inside you.”
“No?” you repeat, the mocking tone of your voice making his eyes screw shut, “why don’t you stop then? It’s all up to you.”
Oh, of course he can stop— though, that doesn’t mean he will, your hips slowly grinding against his as you watch the way his mouth falls open, not a sound falling past it before his hips buck up into you wildly— slowly, you feel a warmth spread beneath you, Yeonjun’s eyes screwed tightly as tears begin to peek from the corners. 
“Nooooo nonono, no, not like this,” he cried quietly to himself, ever the hypocrite as his hands fly to your waist, riding out his orgasm with loud, shameless moans. 
“Oh, my baby,” you say, pouting at the way he apologizes to you under his breath, “Is that it? Are you done now?”
“No, not done,” he’s quick to respond despite his rattled state of mind, looking up at you through bleary eyes. 
“No?” you hum, taking a moment to watch him carefully. 
“No,” he repeats, breathless as his grip tightens on your hips— even through the sensitivity, you can still feel his hips roll up into yours, quiet whimpers and whines leaving him as he does so— though, he can’t find it in himself to stop, at least not with the way he has yet to feel you around him. 
“God, this is so pitiful,” you say, frowning at the way Yeonjun struggles to sit up underneath you; you’re cupping his face as he looks up at you, teary eyes and flushed face unable to say anything as he simply leans into your touch— the way you coo softly has him pouting, and you can’t resist the urge to hover over his lips, teasing him with a smile as you brush over them, placing chaste kisses that only have him chasing you for more. 
“What a good bitch,” you hiss, feeling the way his hands have wandered up to play with your breasts, obsessed as always as his fingers tug and circle your nipples, eager to feel them harden under his touch, “doesn’t matter how many times you cum, hmm? Just need to make me feel good?”
“Yes, yes yes yes,” he babbles, wincing and moaning at the way your lips have begun to wander along his neck, nipping and sucking and leaving enough marks that a person could spot from far away with ease; the way your teeth sink into his skin practically has him crying, and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest the moment he feels you pause, your nose nuzzling into the spot behind his ear, your breath ticklish on his skin as you laugh. 
“Are you wearing my perfume, junie?” You mumble, hearing the way he can only whine in embarrassment; he doesn’t answer you, and you bite at his earlobe softly as you wait, silently demanding a response as his hands fall to your hips, gripping them pathetically as though his life depended on it. 
“I missed you,” he repeats, the words making you roll your eyes as your hand finds itself in his hair; you’re tugging at it, tilting his head and exposing his neck to you as you begin to nose along the column, closing your eyes to confirm if this is really your scent, “couldn’t smell you on my clothes anymore, love your scent s’much, ah…”
His neck has always been sensitive; that’s exactly why you choose to focus on it so much, not leaving until it’s covered with your marks and his tears have run down them, his soft sniffles making you glance up as you take him in, overstimulated and a mess as he bites his lip in an attempt to quiet himself.
“Too much, baby?” You coo, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back comfortingly, watching as he shakes his head adamantly, his wide eyes shiny and tear-filled as he looks up at you.
“No,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you towards him; his face is buried in your chest, and you can’t hold back the gasp you let out as his mouth immediately attaches itself to your breast, plump lips sucking at it as his tongue runs along it, messy and spit-filled as he looks back up at you, grinding you into him with weak whimpers, “want you to use me, you can do anything you want to me, just wanna please you.”
“Such a good boy for me, junie,” you say, his eyes fluttering close at your fond comment. “Are you gonna listen to me, for once?”
“I always listen to you,” he insists, and you feel irked by his words as you scoff.
“Like hell you do,” you sneer, easily angered as he shrinks down from your cold gaze, “Show me then— strip.”
Yeonjun is eager to listen, eager to please; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get undressed so quickly, kicking off his pants and throwing his shirt off in some random direction as he looks up at you expectantly, his cock a mess and already beginning to harden as your eyes fall to it.
“Hard already?” You muse, watching the way his cheeks blush red at your comment. Your hand is teasing as you wrap your fingers around his length, your perfect nails shining under the light as you slowly begin to move up and down, the cum from his previous orgasm guiding your movements as he begins to twitch under you, crying softly at the overstimulation. 
“Guess you weren’t lying,” you sigh out, finger swiping over his throbbing tip as you hear him yelp at the feeling, “just a cute body for me to use, hmm? You’re nothing but a dick for me to get myself off on?”
Yeonjun is mindlessly agreeing with you— your words are clearly affecting him, his cock leaking and throbbing in your hand, making a mess of it as his head falls back, throat displaying all the marks you left on him earlier like a trophy.
His head is snapping back up the moment you sink onto him. You’re warm, tight, and so fucking wet, his body jolting at the feeling of you clenching around him, taking him inch by inch as he feels the way your walls stretch to adjust to him.
“Fuck…” you hiss, your arousal practically dripping on him from how good he feels— “Yeonjun, shit.”
“Waiiittt, wait, oh god, no— don’t say my name like that, fuck,” Yeonjun begins moaning, your lips quirking into a smile as you watch his eyes screw shut, already knowing what’s coming from the way he holds onto you tighter, head buried into your chest as he tries to still your hips.
“Hmm? What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning innocence as you roll your hips into him, moaning dramatically as you do, “Oh, Yeonjun, Yeonjun— fuck, junie, you feel so good, feel so full…”
He’s shaking his head hopelessly; you know what you’re doing to him, and he feels pathetic by the way he loses his senses the more you sink onto him, his cock twitching in you uncontrollably as he warns you to stop, stop, stop before I…!
“This is embarrassing, Yeonjunie,” you pout, feeling the way a warmth spreads inside you the moment you sit on his hips snugly, feeling him bottomed out inside you as he attempts to muffle his sounds. His ears are bright red and he refuses to show you his face as he keeps you close to him, his arms still hugging you flush against him as you feel the valley of your breasts become wet with his tears. 
“Why are you crying, hmm?” You ask him, looking down to see the way he still hides his face, “You’ve already come twice, shouldn’t you be happy? You’re so easy, Yeonjunie.”
Your words are degrading, your voice cold as continue to mock him— and though you pretend otherwise, you can feel the way he ruts his hips into you with every mean comment, clearly enjoying himself more than he lets on as he lets out a broken cry against your skin. 
“Fuck, are you seriously getting off to this?” You snap, bored with pretending as though you don’t feel your boyfriend clinging to you tighter as you degrade him, “You’re such a fucking slut— you get off to anything, don’t you?”
The way you pull him away from your skin is sudden and rough, a soft yelp leaving him as he’s finally forced to face you, eyes fluttering open and meeting your own, your face twisted in annoyance as you look down at him.
“Acting like a bitch in heat, already came twice from nothing,” you grit, rolling your hips against his as you watch the way his eyes roll back— your other hand comes up to grip his cheeks, digging into the flesh and squeezing them together as he pouts at you, eyes welling with tears as he feels your nails dig into him.
“Don’t you feel bad? How am I supposed to get myself off if you can barely keep your dick up for more than a minute?” Your eyes darken at the way he simply lets out a pathetic sorry, ‘m so sorry baby, “What? I don’t think I heard you right.”
Your pussy feels so good around him; Yeonjun is barely able to think straight from the way you’ve begun to bounce on his cock ruthlessly, the sight of your breasts bouncing before him hypnotizing as you jerk his head back up to look at you, towering over him and demanding as you slow your hips to a mean grind.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whines out, his words incoherent and mushed together as you keep a hold of his face, listening as you hiss out for what? “‘M sorry for being so impatient— ah, ah, please— ngh, sorry for coming too soon, sorry for…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t find the ability to, distracted by the way your sounds have picked up, your fingers rubbing circles on your clit as you continue to use his cock like a toy; his cheeks feel sore as he stares at you with wide eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure, your rhythm become sloppy as you feel your legs getting tired. 
You didn’t think Yeonjun would pick up on it; without any warning, you find your back colliding against the couch, your eyes widening as you feel Yeonjun still settled in between your legs, cock still nestled deeply inside you; he’s still a pouty mess above you, hands gripping onto your hips as he begins rutting into you, his thrusts rough and out of control as he takes in your figure hungrily. 
“Sorry for making you feel unwanted,” Yeonjun babbles, feeling you throw your arms around his neck from the sudden confession, bringing him in close as you feel his face hover above your own, “I only want you, want you to use me and mark me so others know who I belong to, I’m all yours baby— please, please please please tell me you’re close, wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna make you feel good, missed you, missed this pussy, fuck, mmh, ugh, feel so good, so good, soso good, please, baby—“
Yeonjun thinks you’re something of an aphrodisiac to him; at least, that must be the explanation if he’s able to cum the moment he feels you unravel around him, unrestrained and addicted to the feeling as he listens to your pretty sounds, practically melting as he hears your voice purring under him— so good, fuck, you’re all mine Yeonjunie, all mine…
You don’t think you’ve ever felt Yeonjun cum this much— his cock continues to twitch and release inside you even after you’ve come down from your high, the man above you burying his head into the crook of your neck as he cries softly at the feeling, unable to help the way his hips buck forward to ride out his orgasm.
This shift in dynamic is new— but it’s addicting, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the way Yeonjun clings to you, his head hazy and needy for your comfort as he lays on top of you, uncaring of how heavy he may be as he wraps his strong arms around you. 
Missed you s’much baby, missed you, please don’t do that again, you could hear him mutter into your skin, a bit out of it as he peppered kisses along your collarbones.
“Alright, alright, I won’t,” you breathe out, running your fingers through his hair soothingly as he leans into your touch like a cat, “I’m sorry I kept running away from you.”
“But then again,” you trail off, tightening your grip on his hair teasingly, feeling the way he immediately whines softly, “you should’ve given me space when I asked you to. It was kinda cute, but don’t do that again— okay?”
“Okay. Of course. Whatever you say,” his response is immediate, not an ounce of hesitation as he stares at you with eyes shining with devotion. After a second, his lips part, and he’s hovering over you again as he looks down at you in wonder. 
“Does that mean we’re boyfriend-girlfriend again?”
You laugh.
“You idiot,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on his lips, unable to control your laugh as you do, “We didn’t stop being boyfriend-girlfriend. I was just mad at you.”
“Hmm. Then, can I eat you out?” His words have you freezing, looking at him in bewilderment as he simply smiles at you sheepishly, “To like. Show you how sorry I am.”
A pause. 
“…And, because I really missed eating you out.”
You sigh— and try not to show how eager you are as you nod softly. Yeonjun however, is shameless as he immediately pulls out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s sinking to his stomach— you’re gulping at the sight. 
“You’re insatiable.” Your comment doesn’t faze him— if anything, it makes him smile, his pretty eyes staring at you with enough adoration and love that you’re squirming slightly under him.
“For you, yeah.”
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
On Monday, the sight of Yeonjun on campus is enough to have you spinning on your heels and running in the opposite direction. He wears nothing but a thin tank top, wondering why you’re yelling at him to cover up the moment he answers your phone call. 
“Why? It’s hot outside— …and, like, I wanna show everyone who I belong to.”
(You refuse to stand by his side until he covers up—though, you can’t ignore the way his words send butterflies through your stomach.)
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