Dearseung - Maple Leaf

[BE ORIGINAL] Stray Kids ‘Thunderous’ For Studio Choom - Felix

@biddes-enthusiast this one is for u bestie

uno! ★ [k.ys]

{ ✉ } 1 new message from yeo <3 : tell that dumbass to move his hand before i move it for him.

[☆] pairing. jealous!yeosang x f!reader

[☆] genre. smut + angst + fluff | established relationship, pwp if we're being honest

[☆] wc. 6.8k

[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), hard dom!yeosang, bratty sub!reader (sort of), fingering, expilicit language, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it besties), use of words like 'slut', pussy slapping (like once), degradation, slight dumbification, spanking, choking (kind of), spit play, oral (mainly f receiving), rough/jealous sex, slight manhandling, dirty talk, yeosang is a lil mean, edging, orgasm control, creampie, slight overstim if you squint, i think that's it– sorry if i missed any!!

[☆] notes. naur cuz why did tumblr ruin the quality of my header :/ anyways, longest fic yet mfs !!! im pretty sure this is going to change in like a day, but i think i kinda actually like this one D: pls pls pls give me feedback in the comments/through asks/tags or reblog it, i would rlly appreciate it >:(

"shut up, i know you have like 7 cards up your ass right now!", shouts san at a poor mingi who sat cross-legged on the floor, having just innocently yelled out an enthusiastic "uno!" and was now being accused of foul play. you laugh along with them at mingi's expense, their rather brash sense of humour being something you're very used to.

"up yours, san", mingi flips him off in return, completely unaware of a sneaky jongho who had just taken a peak at his last card and was now spreading the information regarding the colour of it to those sitting around him.

your boyfriend, who was sat directly across you in the small circle the nine of you had created, gives you a look, one you knew all too well– he was getting tired of the game. in all fairness, you had been playing for a very long time now and you would have been done a while ago if not for san and wooyoung making up sixty different rules, all targeted towards the downfall of mingi who had to pick up what seemed like seventy cards but had now somehow managed to play all of them but one, much to their dismay.

when you and yeosang had first began dating, you had only met a couple of his friends, and even that was just the casual introduction and the odd, occasional wave as you saw each other when you came to visit yeosang in their dorm.

honestly speaking, you were initially glad that you didn't see much of his friends. you knew that the longer you were with yeosang, the more of them you'd have to meet, and this was a thought that made you nervous.

your apprehension didn't stem from a wrongdoing of theirs, no, it came from a insecure place in your mind that told you that your boyfriend's best friends would hate you. it was a rather irrational fear, because what reason would they really have to hate you? nevertheless, you were slowly introduced to all seven of them over the course of time, and your fears quickly dissipated when you saw his friends for what they really were– a bunch of crazy but loveable guys.

you managed to get along very well with all of them eventually, and now you were basically an "accepted member" of their group. that would explain why you were sat in their dorm for more than two hours playing a card game with the eight of them, instead of spending time alone with your boyfriend like you had originally intended to. the second you walked through the door, you were bombarded with greetings and hugs, and then forced into this highly competitive game of uno that was taking way longer to end than necessary.

the only real problem was wooyoung. at least, to yeosang that was the only problem. for some weird and very irritating reason, wooyoung was acting extra flirty with you today. it was not entirely strange because he tended to be a more touchy and affectionate person, that was his way of showing his love for someone, platonic or not. usually, that was fine, but yeosang wasn't liking exactly how much love wooyoung seemed to be showing for you on this day. in reality, wooyoung was probably just being friendly, maybe just in a slightly over-the-top way, but yeosang really didn't see it like that.

"okay, mingi's card is yellow, don't let him win", wooyoung cheekily whispers into your ear, making you turn to face him but then flinch back at the close proximity in which his face was to you. from the corner of your eye, you can see yeosang narrow his eyes at wooyoung but you smile nonetheless, nodding in agreement before adding your "change the colour" card to the pile and deciding on blue, to which mingi lets out a frustrated groan and leans over to pick up a card.

the raven-haired boy sitting next to you seemed very impressed by this, tilting his head back and basically roaring with laughter before slinging his arm around you in a friendly, celebratory manner and pulling you in for a short side hug. "i knew i could count on you." yeosang doesn't view the action in the completely platonic way that you do because he knows his face was a little too close to yours for it to be entirely friendly, yet he lets it slide when the boy lets go of you, but not before glowering at him, possibly trying to catch his eye but he never does.

"it's all fun and games until she gets to beat you", hongjoong calls out to wooyoung after playing his turn, inclining his head pointedly towards you. "and she probably will, seeing as she just eyeballed your cards when you hugged her." wooyoung turns to glare at you with an exaggerated look of betrayal on his face, placing his hand over his chest with a sputter.

"i thought...i thought we were a team", he utters indignantly, shielding his cards from your view by clutching them closer to his body so as to make a point. "we aren't a team, this is a competition", you announce with a mischievous smile, playing your reverse card and smirking at him, now knowing exactly what to do if you wanted him out.

"okay y/n, i see how it is", he mutters, holding his cards with one hand and bringing the other one to poke at your side multiple times, causing giggles to erupt from you at the feeling. you smacked at his hands, trying to get away from them but ever the persistent, he continues his torture on you. well, that was until yeosang decided to finally speak up.

"okay, that's enough, stop playing with my girlfriend and play your card instead", he remarks in an annoyed voice, which mind you, did not entirely deter wooyoung as his hands paused and returned to the game but not without mouthing "this isn't over" to you with a playful scowl. he seemed blissfully oblivious to the menacing glare he was receiving from yeosang, who's eyes turned a little softer when his gaze landed upon you. "sorry", you mouth to him with a wince, to which he shakes his head with a small smile.

the game continues on until seonghwa thrusts his fist in the air in triumph as he all but throws his last card on the pile and wins the game, to which yeosang lets out a very long and very excessive sigh, stretching his arms in the air as he goes to put his cards down since he believed the game finally came to an end, most of the others following suit.

"woah woah, where are you guys going?", san protests, raising his arms in a confused motion. "um, seonghwa won, the game is over?", you reply unsurely, stretching your own sore muscles. you see most people nod their heads in agreement, except san and wooyoung, and jongho, who grimaces with a shrug.

"the game isn't over yet, we have to play until there's only one person left", wooyoung argues with a pout. "c'mon, you can't leave now."

"what? we've been playing for so long, shut up", yeosang objects, standing up in protest. jongho shakes his head and makes an apologetic face as he motions for everyone to sit back down. "we always play until there's a last person. it's how the game works", he states, rolling his head and cracking his knuckles.

"are you fucking serious...", yeosang starts but trails off when he sees everyone else getting back into their previous positions, giving in and following them with a sigh. "okay, who's turn was it?", yunho asks wearily and the game begins once again.

you smile secretly, because you know yeosang just wants to go to his room and watch a show, maybe take a nap, not sit on the floor and play an unbearably long card game with his rowdy friends. he spent all day with them- hell, he lived with them for goodness sake, he really just wanted to cuddle in bed with you for an hour or two. shame, he'd have to wait a little longer.

two more rounds were completed, and you were starting to really feel bad for mingi, who had no hope of winning. every time he forgot to shout 'uno!' at a moderately loud volume, he was made to pick up 10 cards, and now he had so many that he wasn't even bothered to hide his cards from everyone's view, instead laying them out on the floor in front of him so he could sort them out.

"i vote we skip mingi's turn every time from now on", wooyoung quipped when he was taking a little too long to find the card he wanted to play, ignoring the aforementioned boy's shouts of disapproval, teasingly signaling towards san to play his turn.

"don't be mean, woo", you laughed, helping mingi pick a card to play out of his wide spread of options by pointing at one, making him smile brightly in gratitude.

"i'm not mean, just practical", he countered with a grin, sending a wink in mingi's direction, to which he received his second middle finger of the day in return, then turning to pat your knee while he talks. he unconsciously leaves his hand there, continuing the game without batting an eye. yeosang's watchful eyes manage to zero in on this miniscule action, softly scoffing at the audacity his friend had to be so touchy with his girlfriend in front of him.

first, he had to sit uncomfortably on the floor for hours playing a simple card game when he was supposed to be spending time with you. second, he now had to watch his friend, unknowingly or knowingly, he didn't know and frankly, didn't care, sit and flirt with you.

wooyoung, still clueless as ever, was soon baited into going off on a tangent about the authenticity of the rules of the game when hongjoong tried to help mingi by questioning some of them (some of the so-called "rules" were a little fishy sounding, because you couldn't remember ever needing to pick up cards until you got a green one if you played two sevens in a row). caught up his vivid citations of the rules of the card game, his hand remained on your knee, fingers unknowingly tapping your bare skin and playing with the thread hanging from the tear in your ripped jeans.

in the midst of laughing at the situation, you feel a sudden vibration against your thigh, then realizing it was your phone buzzing in your pocket so you fish it out, the screen lighting up in order to show you the new message.

yeo <3: tell that dumbass to move his hand before i move it for him.

you look up from your phone screen immediately to make eye contact with yeosang, who's eyes were trained angrily on wooyoung's finger that was innocently circling the skin of your knee, then flicking to yours. with a slightly sarcastic smile, you give him a look as if to say "really?", before sighing and moving to pick wooyoung's hand up and off of your leg.

you clasped his hand in yours, placing it onto his own thigh, but to no avail as wooyoung only absentmindedly intertwined your hands and continued to rant about the necessity of his severe punishments to mingi, blissfully unaware of the literal death glare he was receiving from yeosang.

"okay, that's it", he mutters angrily but it's loud enough for everyone to stop what they were doing and look at him, and he shoots up from his spot and makes his way to you. he scoops you up in his arms with ease and throws you over his shoulder while you let out a squeal, effectively ripping your hand from wooyoung's loose grasp. ignoring the gasps and protests from his friends, he simply grips you a little tighter and walks out of the room, navigating his way to a very specific bedroom.

"yeo", you exclaimed breathlessly, still a little surprised by the way he so effortlessly picked you up and carried you like you were a little rag doll, tapping at his back to get his attention. "w-where are you going? your bedroom's that way–"

you don't get to finish your sentence because yeosang delivers a sharp smack to your ass, eliciting a tiny cry from you. "i know where my bedroom is", he snaps, placing his hand back on your ass and splaying his fingers, rubbing at the stinging area soothingly. "no, we're going somewhere else", with a smirk plastered on his face, he enters wooyoung's bedroom, all but tossing you on the bed.

you let out a small "oof" when you land on the unfamiliar mattress, yeosang standing by the foot of the bed with his hands perched on the frame while he looks at you so primitively, almost like he wants to devour you. you wouldn't be surprised or bothered if he does– quite the contrary, in fact.

maybe a second or two pass of you and your boyfriend just surveying each other, your lips parted and chest heaving while he looks more calm and collected, but his eyes are a dead giveaway; while he may look composed, you know the very distinct look in his eye, it's one that contains not-so-hidden desire and want.

he crawls towards you, sitting up on his knees when he reaches you so that he towers over your leaning figure, tucking his finger under your chin and jerking your head up to look at him in the eye. you let a sultry smile grace your features, feeling your insides twist and turn in all sort of ways at the thought of yeosang fucking you in wooyoung's room to prove a point.

typically, yeosang was not an overly jealous boyfriend. he actually liked the fact that you got along with his friends, he liked seeing you chat and laugh with them, the sight so natural that it let yeosang feel like you would be a constant in his life.

maybe it was the insufferably long card game– card games were not exactly his cup of tea, and it was possible that the uncomfortable position he had to sit in and endure for so long led to him being a little cranky.

maybe it was because he barely got to spend any time with you today– your attention was occupied by his flatmates the second you entered his dorm, and then you were whisked away into playing a stupid game with them before you could so much as give him a kiss.

yeosang didn't know for sure, but maybe it was a combination of all these things that led to the emerging of the rarely active green monster. seeing you laugh at wooyoung's lame jokes and watching him place his hand on your knee, hug you and then fucking going so far as to hold you hand like it was nothing– it was too much.

"what's got you all riled up?", you mumble, stroking his chest with your finger innocently while you continue to smirk up at him.

"i don't know, maybe it was sitting across from you and watching my friend be all over you when i could do nothing about it", he pipes sarcastically, pushing you down by your shoulders so that you were now lying directly under him while he hovers over you.

"he was hardly all over me", you reply with a brief eye roll, the playful glint in your eye making the corner of his mouth want to curl upwards. "oh yeah? then what was happening?", he scoffs, bringing his hand to your waist to trail it lightly up and down your side, causing you to shiver slightly. with an almost indifferent sounding sigh, you throw both your legs up and around his waist, successfully managing to pull his crotch into yours, grinding against it in a slow manner.

"ugh, i'm bored of this, can we just cut the shit so you can fuck me already?", you remark, trailing your hands up and over his shoulders, linking them around his neck while yeosang keeps his expression neutral, allowing you to continue your ministrations for the time being.

"well, now you know how i felt. did you try and appease my boredom?", he questions, hands griping your hips and holding them down forcefully, inclining his head towards you.

you could just admit that you knew yeosang thought wooyoung was flirting with you and even with this knowledge, you allowed it, because that would be the truth. you were also aware that yeosang wasn't actually mad about it, at least, he wouldn't be after he finished rearranging your insides, because you knew you boyfriend didn't get jealous much and that he was bored as fuck out there and this was the perfect opportunity to opt out of it. the added hint of jealousy he had felt at the time acted as some form of drive to fuck you better, harder.

or, you could be a little mean and continue to tease your boyfriend, playing dumb and purposefully saying things that would piss him off. after all, he did fuck better when he had something to fuck you about, remembering that the last time he got jealous and fucked you over it, you couldn't walk properly for days. weighing the two options in your head, you just had to go with the second one because, where was the fun in the first?

you knew what you were about to say would push his jealousy over the finish line, but that was exactly what you wanted.

"you know, if you're not going to fuck me, i can just go and ask wooyoung to do it instead."

"what the fuck did you just say?"

the growl he let out was almost animalistic, securing his fingers around your throat, applying pressure as he crashed his lips on to yours. the kiss was a searing hot one, full of messy tongues and clashing teeth, his soft lips pressing firmly into yours. his tongue slips into your mouth and as your mouth wraps itself onto it, he grips on to your neck, using it to control and help your lips move along the length of his tongue.

you let out a soft mewl against his mouth and his hand busies itself trying to undo your pants, tugging them down along with your underwear, wasting no time in toying with your clit. "of course you're already wet", he scorns you with a chuckle. he pulls away from your mouth and trails kisses along your jawline, harshy attaching his lips to your skin in random places, nipping and sucking at the area. you cry out at a particularly rough bite, knowing for sure that it would leave a prominent mark, but you suppose that was the entire point.

he tugs at your shirt and you comply, raising your arms so he can remove it. gazing at your covered breasts, he leans in to litter kisses all over the tops of them, sinking his teeth into the plump surface and you groan a little and let your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging tightly at the feeling, seeing the red spot bloom when his lips are removed.

he doesn't even bother undoing your bra, he just pulls your boobs out of the cups and attaches his lips to your nipple, the force in which he sucked on it making you arch your back against his warm mouth.

"you think wooyoung can fuck this little pussy as well as me?", he all but spits the name against your boob, tongue coming out to flick rapidly against your hard nipple and delivering a rough slap to your pussy, causing you to gasp in both pain and pleasure.

"i don't know, why don't i go ask him?", you bite back, looking yeosang square in the eye with a grin until he suddenly stops playing with your cunt, lips pausing their abuse on your neck as  you feel him smile against your skin.

you weren't usually so bratty, no, but you were having so much fun teasing and taunting your boyfriend that you might just start acting up more. he pulls away from your body completely despite your objections, looming over you with a dead serious expression etched on his features. "turn around. ass up", his voice was cold and demanding as he spoke his commands, urging you to do exactly what he told you to do.

he must have thought you were taking too long to place yourself in the position he wanted you to be in, because he does it for you, sighing boredly and pushing your face into the bed, gripping your hips and yanking them upwards so that you lay with your face down and ass up in the air, all for his viewing pleasure. "do you know how to count to thirty?", he asks condescendingly, rubbing his hand along the expanse of your exposed ass. you scoff and mutter a "yes" and his grips your ass, fingers digging into the flesh harshly. you hiss at the pain, trying to swat at his hands but he  simply grabs both of them, holding them together behind your back with one hand, the other sliding up and down the skin of your back almost soothingly. "good to see you're not as stupid as you look. count each one."

his hand glides back down to your ass, pausing at one spot before pulling away then bringing it down sharply on to the skin, the sound of the first spank filling up the otherwise silent room. you yelp and struggle a little against his hold, but he only tightens his grasp on. "i thought i told you to count", he snaps, grabbing a fistful of your ass and squeezing the red skin, bringing a gasp out of you. "o-one", you try to say in an even voice, hoping your face remained neutral and unaffected.

he brings his hand down a second time, angling it so that his fingers slap against your ass to provide more of a sting than pain, to which you hiss but mutter a "two", knowing that this was only the beginning.

he keeps this up until you whimper out a "t-twelve", voice trembling significantly more than before, so he scoots a little further down the bed, face-to-face with your ass. he delivers a spank at the same time he licks a stripe up from your clit to your leaking hole, your face contorting and crying out from both pleasure and pain. "enough, p-please", you plead at fourteen, face and ass both a striking red hue, the latter decorated with hand marks. he tuts and places small kisses against your burning skin, delicately blowing cool air at your tender flesh. "enough? already? but we've just started", he laughs sadistically, teeth sinking into the flesh of your ass hard, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to bring tears to your eyes and to show clear marks.

you lose count along the way but yeosang doesn't really care, switching between slapping your ass to eating your pussy like a man starved, now finding amusement in driving his fingers in and out of your hole at a fast pace, enjoying the sounds of your mixed pain and pleasure. your pussy is a leaking mess, and your skin feels as if it was on fire thanks to your boyfriend's harsh punishment, one that he was loving.

"what number are we on?", he asks even though he is aware that you don't know, wanting to further push you over the edge.

"d-dont know, please– need to", you blubber incoherently, wooyoung's pillowcase soaked with your tears and spit, yeosang's hand still pushing your further into the bed with every slap.

"need to what?", he chuckles, fingering your hole while his thumb slides along your slit and toys with your abused, throbbing clit. "are you so fucked out already that you can't even talk properly?"

you whimper pathetically, making him scoff but pick up the pace of his fingers, the sounds of his fingers and your wetness so loud and dirty. you can feel your high approaching, your moans increasing in volume and pussy clenching around his fingers, alerting him of your upcoming orgasm. "gonna cum–", you gasp but you don't get to finish the sentence because you are soon wailing, the knot in your stomach tightening but you achieve no climax, yeosang pulling his fingers out of you before you can do so.

you let out a loud sob against the pillow, rolling on to your side just in time to see yeosang stick his wet fingers into his own mouth, moaning at the taste of you and sucking them dry. "aww, did the poor baby not get to cum?", he pouts in a faux sympathetic voice, the corners of his mouth pulling down into a frown. "that's because dirty little girls don't get to cum. no, my baby's been such a brat today, hasn't she?"

you shake your head weakly, hips bucking up into nothing as tears stream down your face in rivulets. "no? you haven't been a bad girl?", he questions, palming himself through his pants. you shake your head 'no' once again, eyeing the evident tent formed in his pants. "well, i disagree."

he spreads your legs apart, diving right back into your pussy, tongue swirling around your clit, pulling away just to spit right into your hole, adding to the wet mess. your clit is already highly sensitive, and when his teeth graze it lightly, you all but scream out, bucking into his mouth.

he withdraws from your sopping cunt for a bit to speak, mouth and chin glistening with your arousal. "yeah, fucking scream. let everyone know who's making you feel this good", you know who the supposed 'everyone' is, aware that it was really only directed at one singular person and at any other time you would have rolled your eyes, but given the current state you were in, all you could do was moan out into the room in response.

just like what happened a while ago, you sense your high nearing once again, this time you felt it even stronger than before, the lack of release previously making this one bound to be even more delicious. it seemed that yeosang knew your body like the back of his hand, instantly picking up on the signs indicating your approaching finish. "you wanna cum, sweetheart?", he enquires, giving out small kitten licks to your cunt, holding your somewhat spasming hips down. you nod frantically, bringing a hand down to tangle in his hair, an action he ignores for time being.

he returns to his administrations on your hypersensitive pussy, this time, enclosing his lips around your clit and sucking it into his mouth but then pulling away right before you could cum, leaving you high and dry again. the cry you let out is weak and tired, throwing an arm across you face as you sobbed into it, yeosang holding on to it and moving it away to reveal your face.

"god, look at you", he breathes in awe, taking in your appearance. "you look so fucking pretty when you cry." he marvels at your red, puffy face, taking it in between his hands and wiping away the tears with his thumbs gently, the action feeling very ironic because he was the one who got you in the state to begin with. you peer up at him, all weapy and pouty and he thinks you look so fucking perfect.

looking past you and at the pillow you head rested on, his lips quirk into a smirk. "look what you've done to his pillow", he mumbles more to himself than anything, a proud look in his eye, eyes travelling over the various wet spots on his pillow and then further on the bed. "gonna fuck you from behind so that you can drool on to it."

you're past words at this point, so deprived of an orgasm and so needy that you'll take literally anything he gives you. "think i should fuck your little cunt yet? hm? think you can take it?"

you lift your head up and nod it as vehemently as you could manage, arms stretching out towards him, without the intention of actually grabbing anything. "words, baby", he orders, taking ahold of one of your hands and placing kisses on your knuckles, the feat a stark contrast to what he really wanted to do to you. the whine you release is pitiful really. you're so needy and desperate and tired that you can barely manage to move your head, and now he wants to try and piece together intelligible words?

you pull through eventually, much to his surprise. " i c-can take it, yeo. 'm a big girl", you blabber with your teary eyes ogling at him innocently, and he smiled and he caresses the side of your face with his knuckles. he trails his fingers down to your your mouth and toys and prods at your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes widening slightly when you open your mouth to suck on his thumb without him even asking you to do so, mouth engulfing it as the actions only serves to make blood rush to his cock. "yeah, you're gonna take it."

he pulls his thumb out of your mouth with a 'pop!', chuckling at the string of saliva that connected to your mouth. he breaks the string by collecting some more of your spit in his fingers and rubbing it all over your face. as if the two of you hadn't defaced the premise of wooyoung's bed enough, you feel more of your juices leak out of your tormented cunt and on to his sheets because of this, much to yeosang's delight.

he withdraws from your naked body, and you only then realise that he is still fully clothed. something about this fact makes more warmth pool in your stomach, the power dynamic proven more obvious because he's fully clothed and you're the complete opposite,  entirely at his mercy. pulling his shirt off and tugging his pants and underwear down in one go, yeosang is finally on the same level as you physically.

he stands by the edge of the bed, holding the base of his cock, stroking it near your face. he's already impossibly hard and the sight of you doesn't help his case in anyways. noticing yeosang's cock out of the corner of your eye in your nearly brainless condition, you open you mouth wide for him out of habit, making him coo half adoringly and half mockingly. "would you look at that? haven't even said a word and your opening your mouth for me like the cock-hungry slut you are."

he scoffs, slapping his cock against your lips then moving it away, eyes following the way your mouth chases after him. "a little while you go you had a lot to say. what happened now? have i fucked you dumb without even having fucked you yet?"

you don't even respond, wrapping your lips around the head of his dick and reaching out to grab and what you couldn't fit in your mouth, and yeosang laughs at you. it's a mean, condescending laugh and you shouldn't like the way it sounds as much as you do, yet it's music to your ears. "as much as i love fucking your mouth, i think we'll save that for another time. i think you're ready for my cock now. you think so?"

you've learnt by now that yeosang appreciates your verbal affirmations, and that he probably won't give you what you want unless you tell him you want it, so that's what you do. "wanna feel you in me, sang, please fuck me", you mumble drowsily, your eyes droopy but still so filled with desire.

that was more than enough for him, raising an eyebrow with a cocky smirk. "i'm going to wreck you." a promise he most definitely kept.

he picks you up easily, flipping you over once again, holding your somewhat shaky body in place now that you were on all fours with your ass facing him. he observes your figure, eyes lingering on your ass for a little while longer with the intentions of spanking it one more time just for the hell of it, but changes his mind, deciding you've had enough of that for one day. what he can't do, however, is stop himself from sliding his tongue into your pussy to lap up your juices again, causing you to jolt forward to which he places a kiss on your inner thigh, whispering a small "pretty baby".

lining his cock with your entrance, he spreads your wetness around with the head of his cock, slowly pushing the tip in. you hold back a groan, awaiting the feeling of being stuffed full of him, but it never comes since he teasingly removes it, slapping the top of his cock against your pussy. you're so far gone already that you just whine, tears filling your eyes to the brim and yeosang takes pity on you, or maybe he doesn't,  because he rams his cock into you at full speed, thrusting into you roughly without waiting for you to adjust.

you hiss and cry out at the initial stretch, but the feeling of your cunt being taken by yeosang's dick is so intoxicating that you can't seem to find it in you to care. yeosang fucks into you with every ounce of energy he has left in him, digging his fingers into the skin of your hips and throwing his head back with a hearty moan. "fuck, you feel so good angel. this dirty little cunt takes me so well", he grits his teeth and drawls, voice thick with arousal, your pussy clenching around him as your body is already so accustomed to the feeling of him.

he pulls out of you once again, and you are more than ready to complain because you are sensitive, on edge and you really need to just cum, but there is no need for that as yeosang slams his cock right back in to you, repeating the action several times.

yeosang pistons into you, faster than he ever has before and the sounds of skin on skin and his hips meeting your ass ricochets off the wall of wooyoung's room. "look at what we're doing. fucking this pussy in my best friend's room", he chuckles in a sadistic manner, and you know he's enjoying the location way more than he should.

contradictory to his prior wishes, he does land his hand on your flesh once again, making sure to rub the sore spot right after. you wish you could see him right now. you can only imagine how beautiful he must look, covered in sweat which makes it look like he's glowing, head thrown back with the most mesmerising sounds slipping from his lips.

right on cue, he lets out a soft moan as his hips snap into you, grinding and rotating his hips a little to heighten the immense pleasure you were feeling. you vocalise your wishes to him, and he's more than happy to oblige. you lay yourself back down in the previous position you were in, on your back and him hovering over you. he hooks his fingers under your knees, scooting closer on the bed and wrapping your legs around his defined waist.

he slides his hands up and down your thighs gently as he positions himself again, sliding into you with ease due to all your wetness. he picks up where he left off, this time lifting up one of your legs and throwing it over his shoulder, fucking into you in this new angle.

in doing so, you let out your loudest moan yet and he knows he's found you sweet spot, so he continues to thrust into you in the same spot, bringing a hand down to rub furiously at your clit. "oh, right here?", he teases, slowing his thrusts marginally, gyrating his hips with a grin. a couple curses and other incoherent words are all you can get out, feeling like you were on cloud nine with the way ueosang was treating you.

"fuck, louder, baby. let everyone know what's happening to you in this room."

it wouldn't take a genius to figure out what was happening behind the closed door, but you couldn't stop yourself from groaning out loud if you wanted to. you knew he was close, but you were closer.

his thrusts are getting more sloppy, and his grunts are increasingly frequent, letting you know of his stance. "are you close, angel? gonna cum all over my cock?", his words sound strained and he seems have to lost his meaness from before, but you were still so spaced out that all you could do was incline your head the slightest fraction, but he understands and lets out a small laugh. "good. i want you to scream my name as you cum."

the hand that was playing with your pussy speeds up along with his thrusts, circling your clit, pinching it and rubbing it between his fingers. with the combination of his cock repeatedly hitting your g-spot and with the heightened sensitivity and pleasure you were receiving from his fingers, you knew you were about to comply with his demand. it's his last words that do it for you.

"next time, i'm going to bring wooyoung in here and make him watch while i fuck into oblivion."

you feel your entire body go limp as you cry out his name and cum, yeosang thrusting into you shallowly to help your ride out your orgasm, letting you come down from your high. you notice that he hasn't cum yet and you are about to question it before you see the sinister looking grin etched on to his mouth, mumbling a "my turn", before he pulls out and then rams into you again, mercilessly thrusting.

you quite literally scream, every part of you so sensitive having just achieved orgasm, but you can't deny that the pain feels good. his hand reaches down to squeeze your boob, tweaking the nipple with his fingers. your face is streaming with tears again like before, yeosang cooing as his thrusts become more sporadic. "there, there, baby. fuck, you look so pretty, all for me."

when he finally cums, he stills his hips completely, letting his cum fill you to the brim, holding a continuous groan until he finished. he pulls out and you can feel some of his cum drip out of you, yeosang's eyes trained on the sight of your glistening cunt that was pumped full of his seed and he pushes some of it back in with two of his fingers.

you squirm in discomfort a little and yeosang hushes you, leaning down to pet your hair softly. "did so well for me, angel."

he smooths your hair down and off your face, wiping your tears away as your breathing becomes more steady. "my perfect baby", he praises, taking one of your hands in his and bringing the fingertips up to his mouth to press kisses against. your preen at the praise, corners of your mouth curving up into a dopey smile, mumbling small a "thank you", feeling your eyelids starting to droop.

he flops down in the space next you with a tired sigh, both of your chests heaving and eyes wanting to shut. he turns his head to the side to look at you, a soft expression taking over his face as his lips curve into a smile. your eyes are closed but you feel his knuckles caress your cheek tenderly and you lean into his touch, whining a little. "we should probably get you cleaned up and out of wooyoung's room", he mumbles with a weary chuckle, laying on his side and slipping an arm around you, pulling you into him.

just as he moves to press his lips against yours sweetly, the two of you hear hushed whispers coming from the other side of the door.

"do you think they're done yet?"

"why are they so loud?"

"shut up, they can probably hear you!"

"okay but, do you think my fucking bed is still intact?" "why'd they have to go fuck in my room."

judging by the tone of voice and the words, you can only presume that the last person to speak was wooyoung, and you almost feel bad about corrupting his poor bed, but you know yeosang doesn't because of the proud smirk plastered on his mouth, and you slightly smack his chest with a laugh.

someone from outside knocks on the door. "what?", yeosang calls out, sounding sleepy and spent. wooyoung sheepishly tells you of his plans, voice growing fainter, which tells you he is walking away.

"uh, you guys can like, keep my room for tonight. i don't think i want to sleep there knowing what just happened."

here it is. *the* fic.

It Starts and Ends With You | Jeno

prompt: could you please do a soulmate!jeno au? words: 2.7k+ category: angst, despair, small bouts of fluff warning: casual and serious mentions of suicide and death, needles, death

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my heart jus broke in two in the sexiest way

☆ 🖇️ 𖥻 ＜꒱

— 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

pairing: art school! hyunjin x fem! reader (+felix)

genre: light enemies to lovers, love at first sight, angst, smut, barista (y/n).

warnings: profanity, jealousy, mature themes, chainsmoker hyunjin, unprotected sex, mentions of death (very brief).

word count: 4.6k

🏷 : @ughbehavior ty sm for your help! 🤍

i. 08:43am

Hyunjin was contemplating murder.

“You’re holding up the line, hotshot,” he deadpanned, burning holes in the dude’s back.

Awful pick up line cut in half, the man of the hour turned around, eyeing Hyunjin’s stoic face.

Well, not so much eyeing, all things considered. More like looking up, intimidation failing to quite…reach. Hyunjin wasn’t the tallest of men, standing at 5’ 10’’, but this guy was a fucking joke.

You couldn’t seriously be entertaining him.

Hyunjin grinned down at him, honeycomb hair falling in his eyes. “Scutter along, playboy.”

The man was too stunned to speak, grabbing his drink and fucking off to wherever he’d come from. Fucking finally.

You weren’t amused, to say the least, but then again, you never were when it came to him. Instead, you glared. Hard.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he smiled warmly at you, hands resting against the counter, arms flexing.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he smiled warmly at you, hands resting against the counter, arms flexing.

Your gaze dropped to the veins popping through his skin. You blinked, once, twice—ah, there it was, Hyunjin thought.

That rosy blush that painted your cheeks every time he did that—it made him weak inside. He wanted to see you blush for him, but in a different setting entirely.

Specifically, under him—

“What can I get you, Hyunjin? Surely you don’t come just to scare away my customers,” you snarled, wiping the espresso machine.

He ignored your little comment. “And, surely, you, my angel, know my order by now.”

He noticed the way your breath caught at the pet name, enjoying watching you make his coffee, flustered, avoiding his stare.

It had started as harmless teasing; freshman Hyunjin had walked into this small coffee shop, craving an iced americano, sketchbook in hand, excited about starting art school.

And then you’d turned around, and— well. Well. Hyunjin had never been in love, but he was pretty sure that was fucking it. You’d ruined him for any other person.

Too bad you hated his fucking existence. He’d tried his best everyday, to be soft, to tone down that damn sarcasm that always got him in trouble. He left you generous tips, came to hang out after or in between classes, sketching away as he stole glances at you.

You had called him a stalker, and he’d laughed in your face.

“A psychopath, then,” you’d claimed.

“Only for you, sweetheart. Why don’t you tell me your name?”

“Fuck off.”

He’d smirked at you, arms crossing over his chest. “I’ll take my time breaking you, angel.”

“I’d like to see you try, pretty boy.”

So he did. And, fuck, has it been fun, because he could see, underneath the tough exterior, and adorable mean faces, you secretly loved it. The attention he gave you, his overprotective ness of you, how jealous he’d get when boys would try to flirt with you.

You knew, deep down—you belonged with him. You did ever since he found you, almost two years ago.

Hyunjin carried himself with a sort of elegant arrogance; popularity had come to him easy. His talent was unmatchable—a product of numerous hours of hard work; acrylics, oils, coal, he’d practiced it all, and he can’t not admit that it had been lonely, locked inside a room, thoughts turned into color, painting becoming an undistinguishable extension of him.

Had the brushes and the pencils, and the papers not been there, he wouldn’t have survived. Perhaps, some thought that to be an over exaggeration , but there had been nothing else for him, except this.

The smell of graphite, the hard callouses whispering of softwood—blank, textured paper waiting to be filled. All he’s known.

And then you. His coffee shop girl.

ii. 15:31pm

“Put that out, it’s disgusting,” you commented, picking up after a table that had just left.

Hyunjin sat by the door, smoking, sipping on his coffee. Sun out, and a pleasant wind blowing, his sketchbook lay open on the pavement.

“What do I get if I do?” He dared, turning to you.

You had a beautiful neck, he’d always thought so. Sometimes he thought you did it on purpose; clipping your hair away, exposing it. He wanted to leave open mouthed kisses along the side, just below your ear, traveling down to your collarbone—

Hyunjin looked away, tongue licking against the inside of his cheek, and took a drag of his cigarette.

You mused over his question, tray in hand. “I don’t know, a longer life span, maybe?” You said sarcastically.

He hummed, chuckling. “Tempting as it is, sweetheart, I’ll pass.”

You raised your eyebrows, taking him in. Mid length, soft looking hair, sunglasses hiding, what you know to be dark brown eyes, an oversized t-shirt, and blue jeans, with black vans. Rings adorning long fingers.

Picture perfect boyfriend material.

And yet, he got on your last nerve every time he opened his mouth. You couldn’t figure out what it was, exactly—maybe the relentless flirting, or the smugness of him. But it was a shame, because he—

Well, he was fucking hot.

You shook your head, denying your own thoughts.

“Suit yourself, prince. That’s just what I think,” you went to pass by him, to go inside, but his hand shot out to stop you, grabbing your wrist.

You gasped, trying to balance the tray in your palm again, and looked down at him angrily.

“Are you fucking crazy, Hyunjin? All these glasses could’ve smashed on your head!”

He smiled at that, moving his sunglasses to the top of his head, squinting up at you. His hand was warm against your skin.

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it—

“I would, for you,” he said. “Quit. I would do it for you.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you went to pull away from his grasp. He let you, that same smile staying on his full lips.

Your heart skipped several beats, bewildered. He confused the hell out of you, with his pet names, and longing looks. But you couldn’t ignore your mind, telling you what a bad idea it was to let such a person in.

He’d ruin you. There was no getting over someone like Hwang Hyunjin, that you were sure of.

Later, when he brought his empty coffee mug inside, he left a piece of paper underneath it.

Pretending to clean, you avoided him, making sure he was well gone before taking a peak at what it was.

A sketch of you—of your profile, more like, pouring a shot of espresso in a to go cup, colored in innocent pastel markers.

There your heart went again, betraying you. You looked around, before shoving the picture in your bag, dusting off your apron, awkwardly.

You hated Hwang Hyunjin. He was conceited, and pompous—he thought everything revolved around him. Talented, no question, but you wouldn’t fall for it.

You wouldn’t fall for him, period. You absolutely refused.

iii. 09:02am

Lee Felix would be your new coworker, your manager announced, and went back to his receipts.

“Train him good, yeah?”

You remained in your place behind the counter, broom in hand, staring at his blonde head and constellation freckles.

“Hi, (Y/N)!” He waved at you, beaming, as he grabbed an apron, and awaited instructions.

You knew Lee Felix—he was Hyunjin’s best friend, from what you’d gathered. At times, they’d walk in together, one iced americano, one strawberry smoothie, looking like they’d just jumped out of a magazine cover, and it would be very hard not to gape at them the whole time.

Felix was the extreme opposite of Hyunjin; this boy was made of the purest sunlight, the kindest customer you’ve ever had. He always asked how you were, and made small talk with you, as his friend scowled, and stared at you. Felix didn’t give borderline creepy vibes, unlike some—he was a genuinely sweet person, that always managed to make your day simply by smiling your way.

But—he hated coffee, always complained that the smell of it made him nauseous, so—what was he doing, working here?

You couldn’t help but be suspicious of his motives. You hoped it had nothing to do with a certain ‘I’d quit for you’ boy.

Not that everything had to do with him—

Ugh. Thinking of that interaction had your stomach doing backflips, and you weren’t certain if that was good or bad.

“Hey, star shine,” you gave him a small smile. “Ready to learn?”

He wasn’t horrible. He caught on fast, and tried his best, but the menu was long, and the recipes extensive, so it would take him a while no matter how bright he was. Not to mention working the espresso machine, something that had troubled you greatly—working with you he’d be okay, but if he ever was to open by himself... Suffice to say, you’d have your hands full for a bit.

Around lunch time, you made him his signature smoothie as a reward. Felix perked up at it, putting the straw between his lips, and chugging the entire thing.

“You’re the best,” he said, watching you prepare some pick up orders, back turned to the door.

“Eh… I’ve just worked here for too long,” you replied, simply, looking up when the little bell signaled a new customer.

“I got it! Hello, how—Hyun!”

Fuck. You put the Frappuccino’s in the cooler, filling plastic cups with ice. Anything to distract you.

“My two favorite people working together, huh?”

Felix laughed, leaning across the counter to greet his friend. You couldn’t help it, then, you caved.

Hyunjin was standing tall, and handsome, in his workshop overalls, paint all over them, a white t-shirt underneath, hair away from his face, in a half bun.

You nearly gave in. No person should be allowed to look that effortlessly good, especially when that person was supposed to be the enemy.

But why? Why did he have to be? Sure, he had a big ego, and rattled your nerves incessantly, but—that surely wasn’t reason enough?

You realized then, there was no justifiable cause for your hatred towards him. You just convinced yourself to dislike him, shoving him in a box and keeping him there, just cause of a smart comment he’d made when he first met you.

That was years ago.

Your heart told you it wouldn’t be for long. You can only deny the truth for so long.

Fuck.

iv. 18:10pm

Locking the shop, you threw the keys in your bag, turning to walk to the bus station.

You would’ve done exactly so, if you hadn’t noticed Hyunjin sitting on the stairs outside his school, cigarette in hand, sketching away. Normally, you’d leave him to it—many evenings he sat there, in his own world.

But today, he looked upset.

It’s none of my business—

But what if he needs someone?

Felix had classes, where is he at?

Sighing, you clenched your bag closer to your body, and crossed the street. You closed the distance between you, careful not to scare him, and even then you second guessed yourself.

You weren’t entirely sure why you felt responsible to fix his mood. But Hyunjin was rarely so visibly distressed, in all the time you knew him. He’d fake anger, sure, when he kicked male customers out with his snarky comments, and mean looks, but you’d never seen him this closed up.

You silently sat down next to him, peaking at his sketchbook. He was outlining the wings of a very intricate butterfly, tobacco ashes smudging the page.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he murmured, not once lifting his head.

“Hey…” you trailed off, not really knowing what to say. “What are you doing?”

He brought the cigarette to his lips, hair sheltering his face. His pencil continued its way to the main body of the butterfly, slightly shading the edges of the wings.

“Making a gift.”

A gift? You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “It looks pretty.”

He exhaled through his nose, smoke coming out of his nostrils. Then, he finally tilted his head towards you, face supported by his hand.

Your mouth opened, and closed. Hyunjin was sad—the kind that withered flowers, brought clouds, and caused rain.

You did not like seeing him like this, at all. You’d much prefer the cocky boy that was obsessed with bitter coffee, if that meant he got to keep smiling.

Perhaps, you cared about Hwang Hyunjin more than you let on. Perhaps, that terrified you.

“Why are you here, angel? Thought you hated me,” he said, putting the cigarette butt out.

“Yeah, I thought so too.”

He stared at you, unblinking, and then moved ever so slightly, ever so slowly—

He kissed you.

And it was many things, but his lips tasted like smoke and mint, his lips were soft and plumb against yours—he kissed you like he didn’t mean to, but couldn’t help himself, guarded and yet entirely at your mercy.

You kissed back. And you understood, then—you’ve always loved him.

Always dreaded him.

It very much felt like hate.

His hands cupped your cheeks, softly caressing the skin with his thumbs, his hair tickling you, his breath mixing with your own. You fall, and fall, fall fall fall, leaning deeper into the kiss, into him, and he lets you, guides you, opens the door greeting you warmly—

This is what I’ve been feeling for you. This is what I feel, and for the longest time I thought you felt nothing.

You pulled back, getting up suddenly. Losing your footing, you almost collapse on top of him, but he holds you up by your arm. You’re panting, denying, denying, denying, scared, fucking shaking, because—

What if you lost him? What if it ended? You’d build your walls up, keeping him out for this exact reason.

No one gets over someone like Hwang Hyunjin.

You had caved in, and you had lost already.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you told him, overwhelmed, panicking.

He looked at you from his place at the stairs, unmoving, quiet.

“You shouldn’t have—you—I,” you took a deep breath, willing your thoughts to make sense, “I hate you, I—I’m sorry, I just wanted to see if you’re alright.”

Hyunjin took his time closing his sketchbook, while you stumbled over your words. He took out his lighter, lighting what would be the last cigarette of his pack, taking a long drag of it, meanwhile never taking his eyes off of your embarrassed figure.

You were blushing profusely, looking at anything but him.

“I’m alright, sweetheart,” he finally replied. “Are you?”

You had to leave. “I’m sorry, I can’t—”

Hyunjin watched you go in a hurry. And even though, you freaked out and ran away from him, the fact that you kissed back made all the difference.

v. 08:35am

The next day, Felix opened with you, so he could begin to learn the routine of the morning shift.

Hyunjin didn’t come in, as he usually did on a Thursday. If Felix knew something, he didn’t say, instead focusing on grinding coffee beans, merrily humming to the song that played low throughout the shop.

After a rush—students getting their caffeine fix before classes started—it was just you and Felix again, wiping surfaces, and cutting cake slices for the display.

You had to ask. You had to ask, because it was killing you. You didn’t sleep a wink, instead running through the events of the stairs. You could still feel Hyunjin on your lips, even after washing your face, even when hours passed, and you lay wide awake on your twin sized bed, praying he would seep through your skin, at last, so you wouldn’t feel the ghost of him remaining.

“I have a question.” You braced for impact, thinking this would definitely get back to Hyunjin.

Felix threw an irresistible smile at you, waiting. “Shoot!”

You chewed on your lip, before breathing deeply. “I saw Hyunjin yesterday, by the stairs… Is—is he okay? He looked sad.”

Felix pursed his lips, and took a sip of his smoothie. “His mom’s one year death anniversary was yesterday.”

What? Oh my God. And you made it all about you, telling him you hated him, and disappearing on him after he took a risk kissing you!

You were a horrible person. If anything, you were the self absorbed one—you’d never asked, never cared—if he was okay, if he was having a good day. Yet, he always did.

In his own way. But he did, nonetheless.

“He never told you?”

You shook your head.

“I’m guessing he didn’t want you to pity him. He really likes you, you know.”

To that, you nodded, shamefully. “I do, too.”

Felix raised his eyebrows, smirking. “About damn time, no?”

“Now how about you tell him that?”

vi. 19:47pm

On Saturday, Hyunjin showed up just as you were about to close.

Dressed in jeans, and a band tee, hair wet falling across his forehead, he waited patiently by the door, while you gathered your stuff, lollipop hanging from his mouth.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, as you moved past him.

Shop closed for the day, you two walked side by side, in comfortable silence. The sky was a thousand colors, and the weather was warm—life didn’t feel real, with him by you, like this.

“What’s with the lollipop?” You asked, trying hard not to look at him directly.

It was unfair to look that good sucking on candy.

“I quit smoking.”

‘I’d do it. For you.’

After everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to act as you did before, around him. It had seemed forever ago that your feelings for him were hostile.

You were incredibly ashamed of how you’d treated him. Everyone’s fighting a silent war, used to be something you’d tell yourself everyday, going through high school, but there you were, not giving the time of day to a guy that, if you were being totally honest, protected you from weirdo’s on the daily.

Challenged you, made your days interesting just by lightly teasing you. He never crossed a line, never insulted you.

“What’s that you got there?” He asked you, changing the subject, looking at the bag you were carrying.

You looked at it, too, remembering it was there. “Oh! Strawberry cake. It came fresh today, and I wanted to try it.”

You both looked up at the same time, eyes locking.

“Angel…” he seemed in a trance, time stopping.

Angel. Before, you’d roll your eyes, call bullshit. Today, where you stood, that word coming from his lips was heavenly.

You wished for nothing more but to hear him say it again.

Hyunjin cursed, arm reaching out to get your hand in his.

“We need to talk. Can I take you to my studio, sweetheart?”

Too caught up in his beauty to form words, you nodded, stupidly.

He smiled at you. A real, genuine smile. All for you.

vii. 20:05pm

His studio was utterly and uniquely him.

One huge room, half of it dedicated to art, filled with half finished canvases, and art supplies, backdrops hanging from the ceiling, projects piling on a desk on the far end of the window wall with the stained glass.

The other half a normal kitchen and living room, the two separated by a table counter. The mess appeared almost purposeful. The apartment wasn’t dirty, it was just—

The mind of an artist. Chaos.

“Amused by my inability to clean?” He joked, studying you taking in his space.

You scrunched your face, biting your lip. “It’s not that. This…makes sense.”

He chuckled, leading you by the hand to his couch.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He brought spoons, and the two of dug into the cake, the fresh, ripe strawberries melting in your mouth. You moaned, excited to be eating something sweet after a long day at work.

Sharing cake with Hyunjin, at his house of all places. This was something out of your wildest dreams, and yet, it all felt a little too normal.

After all, this is a guy you’ve been seeing almost every single day for the past two years of your life. You’ve served him countless coffees, watched him sketch for hours—he’d even walked you to the bus station one time, worried a creep that had been flirting with you a little too aggressively, would try something.

In the moment, you never really realized, but in retrospect, you and Hyunjin had been together a lot.

Never this close, though. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel different, this time, more personal.

You were sure your feelings were painted on your face, and surprisingly, you didn’t particularly care. You wanted it to happen. You didn’t want to keep hiding behind your finger, anymore.

“I owe you an apology. I’ve been nothing but a bitch to you.”

Hyunjin shook his head. “Don’t say that about yourself, angel. I came on too hard, and freaked you out.”

You turned to face him completely. He looked so calm, so content. How had you never seen it before?

Why had you been so adamant on pushing him away?

“No. I was still wrong. Let me do this—”

“(Y/N), please—”

“Hyunjin!” You sighed, exasperated. “This is why we fight. Because you’re so hardheaded!”

He laughed, then, hands reaching out to grab your face. You froze, astute.

“We don’t fight, angel. We bicker. I love bickering with you.”

His mouth attacked yours, pushing you down on the couch. Your back hitting the pillows, you circled your arms around his neck, hands caressing the nape of it.

It was like a fire lit between you, engulfing you both in its flames. Your whole chest was burning with the need to feel him closer, to touch him.

“Angel,” he whispered against your lips. Your eyelashes fluttered, the desire to kiss him again too strong.

“Tell me. Before I continue, tell me,” he pushed the hair out of of your face, lovingly, eyes gazing deep into yours, “if you feel the same. I’ve been hooked on you, sweetheart. Ever since I met you.”

You were about to tell him the scariest three words you’ve ever said—but he had to know. It was overdue, it was necessary he knew.

You touched his cheek, leaving a kiss on the edge of his mouth. He followed your movements like his life depended on them—on you.

“I love you,” you whispered.

The way his eyes lit up, that rare, addictive warmth of his that you’ve only witnessed a handful of times—you would never get enough of his happiness. It was such a whole experience, so very precious.

“Took you fucking long enough, my sweet girl.” He picked you up, wrapping his arms around you in the most delicious way, bringing you on his lap.

You could feel every inch of him—your hunger grew ferocious.

His eyes scanned your face, silently asking for consent, his hands at the hem of your shirt. You kissed him, instead, guiding his hands underneath.

He wasted no time getting you both naked, unhooking your bra, his tongue trailing down from your mouth to your breasts, fingers toying with your nipples.

“Fuck, angel, you’ve no idea how many times I’ve thought about this...”

His other hand moved down, unzipping your jeans, getting lost in your thighs. When he cupped your cunt, you were soaked.

“Goddamn, (Y/N),” his mouth devoured yours, crazy with want, cock painfully hard.

Pausing to remove your pants, you straddled him once again, running your hands over his firm arms, mouth moving to his neck, sucking on it. He groaned, his fingers finding your wetness, rubbing slow circles on your clit.

“Fuck… Hyunjin…”

“Tell me what you need,” he pressed his forehead against yours, your scents becoming one.

You, you, you, everywhere, always—

You moved against his fingers, rubbing yourself on him. The idea of you, doing this with him. It was absurd.

Nothing had felt more right.

All of your senses were wide awake, so entirely consumed by him, and his hands, his breath, his clean scent, the sweat forming, the way his hair fell in his eyes—

His eyes. The way they stared you down, feral, growing darker by the minute. The sounds that escaped your mouth were sinful, and he could absolutely not fucking take it anymore, he’s waited long enough, has wished for this, for you, in any way he could have you, take you, make you his.

His moans were a guttural sound, coming from the back of his throat. You put your hands on his chest, feeling the vibration of them, moving upwards, fingers wrapping around his neck, his head falling back.

He was the angel. He looked unreal, his naked body clenching, his movements never faulting, carrying you through an intense orgasm.

There were no words to describe—all of the buried emotions you refused to accept, they were all bubbling up, spilling out of you, destroying you, and Hyunjin was picking up the pieces.

“I need to be inside you, angel. Please.” Never breaking eye contact, he flipped you, positioning you underneath him, while he stood, one knee between your legs, arm extended over you, holding the back of the couch.

He stayed like that for a moment, just drinking you in, sprawled out, in his house, ready for him. He thanked whatever God granted him such joy, for he had dreamed of this many times.

You, wanting him back. His coffee girl embracing him, trusting him.

The moment he entered you, you both clang to one another, the feeling of his stretching you alone, overwhelming. His mouth against your ear, his heavy breathing scorching. You dug your nails in his back, moving with him.

“Fuck, (Y/N)…” His thrusts were slow, savoring, learning the ways you responded to him.

“Please, Hyunjin, please…”

Hyunjin watched you come apart, your broken moans music to his ears, a melody he’d like to memorize by heart. The way your body synchronized with his, your open mouth, head thrown back, unraveling before him—

“My beautiful girl…never leaving you—never allowed to leave me.”

A symphony. Heaven.

You made love like that, time no longer a concept, exploring each other, until you both came undone, shuddering, breathless, tightly enveloping.

A kiss on your forehead, and a silent question.

Will you stay?

You did; you stayed. You and Hyunjin talked till the early hours of the next morning, hands clasped together, hearts whispering, connected.

I found you.

I’m with you, now.

viii. 05:04am

“I’m sorry about your mom,” you mumbled against his chest, half asleep.

He froze, momentarily, a deep sigh escaping his red lips, fingers drawing circles on your naked back.

“She had to go,” he replied quietly. “That’s what she told me. The cancer was eating her alive.”

Your head rose to meet his eyes, your chest heavy. He looked calm, if not a little tired. He gave you a soft smile, his eyes forming crescent moons, promising you he was okay.

“It was just me and her, but I guess that’s why she introduced me to painting. So I wouldn’t be alone.”

“She liked butterflies.”

You laid back down, burying your face in the crook of his neck, in fear of him noticing the tears in your eyes. He felt them, anyway.

You would never forgive yourself for telling him you hated him. You never did. Hate him.

You hated the way he made you feel.

You would never be able to get over Hwang Hyunjin.

That was fine with you, as long as you got to love him, first.

HwaYunGi in every logbook [87/?]