#chanyeolxreader

Distracted pt. 2 -- Cardio 🏃🏻‍♂️

Part 1 Genre: smut | personal trainer!au Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader Length: 2.4k Warnings: language | explicit sexual scenes

a/n: i feel like you dont have to read pt 1 if you dont want to, but it does add some context 😇. imma be honest...this was hard asf 😭. im not v confident in writing smut lol i get so nervous 😂 im just a girl ok?!??!! but yeaaah i hope it quenches yall thirsts cause youre obv THIRSTYYYY 💦😂 and if its bad just lie and tell me i did good lmfaoo

DRABBLE GAME | MASTERLIST

Two days passed before you’re back at the gym. When you found Chanyeol, he informed you it was a cardio day and left you to it.

Your anxiety soared while you struggled to climb the stair master. He told you to do forty minutes, so he must hate you. You were going to have to get a new trainer, huh? Hell, at this rate, a whole new gym! If you’d known this was how your relationship with Chanyeol would be after taking his offer, you would’ve declined it. Better yet, he should’ve never offered in the first place!

Personally, you didn’t regret what happened. It felt like the shaken bottle of your shared desire finally exploded. Actually, you did have one regret, and that was the fact you’d had only a taste—literally for Chanyeol—of that desire.

Still, you understood if Chanyeol had any qualms about the situation. He was your trainer after all. Eating your client out on company time probably wasn’t the best move. The distance he was currently giving you was telling. He rarely made you do cardio, and when you did it was for warm up. Was this his way of telling you that was a one-off thing? Was he silently hoping you wouldn’t show up? Despite the burning in your thighs, you pressed on even harder, needing a distraction from your racing thoughts.

“Too much?” The deep voice caused your lower abdomen to burn. Checking behind you, you saw Chanyeol moseying in your direction. Your forty minutes was up and you were now dragging your stiff legs to the locker room.

“I’ve never been on that thing longer than five minutes,” you whined. “And I might’ve pushed myself too hard. My thighs feel like they’re about to pop.”

He winced and followed you into the room. You plopped onto a bench with a sigh, closing your eyes and tilting your head back as you relished in your relief.

Your body tensed back up at the sensation of hands on your calf. You whipped your head forward, eyes sprang open to the vision of Chanyeol kneeling in front of you.

“What are—oh!” Your question turned into a moan as his thick fingers started messaging your sore muscles.

“We don’t want them to get too sore, now do we?” He murmured, focused entirely on your legs.

You melted under his hands and fought the little sensual sounds his innocent touch elicited from you. He worked on your calves first, slowly venturing higher to your painfully tight thighs. You knew he had to feel the goosebumps prickling your skin in answer to his ministrations, but he remained silent as he worked, and you wondered if this was his attempt at an apology. Well, you’d take it. It felt way too good not to.

“I’ve never done a day of straight cardio,” you said, breeching the topic of your concern.

Chanyeol sighed heavily. “I thought it would be best for today….”

“So that you could leave me alone?” You questioned.

“Yes,” he admitted. “But not for the reason you’re thinking.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?”

He finally lifted his head and your breath caught at the sight. Chanyeol looking up at you from between your legs had your last shared memory come to mind, where he was in a very similar position.

A grin lifted a corner of his mouth, as if he knew where your mind had gone, and it only proved the point he was about to make.

“If your pouting throughout your workout was any indicator, I imagine you think I regret what happened between us.”

A thrill shot through you at the word: us. You tried your best to hide your pleasure before the man in front of you could notice.

“You don’t?” You asked. “Because I understand if you do. I don’t want you to get in trouble. I can get a new trainer or even go to a diff—ow!”

He’d put too much pressure on a particularly sore spot. He threw you a deceptively innocent look. “There was a knot.”

You scoffed. He ignored you, answering your question instead. “As much as I appreciate the sentiment, there’s no need to do that. Just because I licked your pussy doesn’t mean I can’t be professional.”

Your fingers curled around the bench as a wave of arousal swept over you. You let out a breathless laugh. “That’s a very professional thing to say.”

He shrugged. “If you want a different trainer, I won’t stop you. I did cross a line.”

He switched thighs. “But I’m hoping you don’t.”

That shocked you. He was avoiding your stare, concentrating on the thigh he was rubbing. You could sense the sincerity of his words, his vulnerability. You knew you weren’t going to trade trainers. It was only the doubt on his end that spurred the suggestion in the first place.

“Why?”

He peeked up at you, his fingers dangerously close to your now throbbing apex.

“Because I like you.”

You blanched. “You do?!”

He laughed at you. “How can I not? You’re silly—”

“I beg your pardon?”

“—And pretty, and mean—”

“When have I ever been mean to you?” You asked skeptically.

“You haven’t heard the way you talk to me at the end of core day. Plus, you have a glare that could scare the devil.”

That made your back straighten with pride. “Damn right I do.”

“It’s sexy,” he assured. “Everything about you is sexy, it’s unfair. And the most unfair thing of all?”

He bent his head down and pressed his lips to your knee. The tender action trapped your breath in your lungs. He peeked up at you from under his lashes. “You taste just like honey.”

“I do?” You choked out.

He nodded, pressing another kiss above his last. “It’s all I can think about. That’s the reason I sent you off to cardio. I feared I wouldn’t be able to control myself from begging you for another taste.”

He bit the fat of your thigh, dragging his teeth over the tender flesh. The sharp sting of his teeth had you gasping, your hips rolling slightly.

“I knew I’d end up here,” he groaned to himself. He stared up at you with pleading eyes. “So, can I? Taste you again? Let me make up for torturing you today, hmm?”

He kissed up your thigh. When he reached the joint of your hip, you shoved him hard enough for him to fall backwards. He caught himself from sprawling on the floor and looked at you in bewilderment. For a brief moment, you acknowledged that your workouts with him had been paying off if you could knock him over now.

“No.”

“No?” He repeated as if he’d misheard you.

Smirking, you crossed a leg over the other. “I think I deserve a bigger reward. For all my efforts today.”

He didn’t comprehend at first, but then understanding flashed on his face. Still, he remained silent, reluctant to answer in case he was wrong.

“What do you think?” You urged. Your gaze flickered to his crotch and a low grumble rumbled from within his chest.

“If you think that’s what you deserve….”

“I do.”

“Then it’s yours.”

You bit your lip in excitement as he stood up. He hovered over you, reaffirming just how big he was. You’d have to tilt your head allllll the way back to look into his eyes. You wouldn’t know though, because you were too busy reaching for the band of his shorts, thankful that all you had to do was pull them down.

He grabbed your hands before you could yank the offensive barrier off.

“So eager,” he chuckled. You quickly swallowed the whine you were about to let out, refusing to prove another of his points. You decided a glare would send a better message.

“Scary.” He pretended to quake in fear before cupping your chin, tilting your head up as he bent down to bring your lips together for a passionate kiss. It’s wet and all tongue, as if he was settling on these lips to satiate his yearning.   

You made out for a while, until you grew impatient. You wanted to return the favor for last time. You’d tried, after he tore an intense orgasm from you, you’d reached for his shorts just as you had now, and he’d stopped you then as well. He’d promised that eating you out was enough, but it’d left you longing for him.

With him distracted by your mouth, you slithered your hands back to the band of his shorts and slowly dragged them to his mid-thigh. The action made him pull away so that he could narrow his eyes at you accusingly. It made you laugh, but the sight of his dick took away your humor. There was nothing funny about that. You grew intimidated by the size as it bounced in front of your face.

“What?” he asked, sounding rather smug. “Having second thoughts, Sweetie?”

“Absolutely not.” You wasted no more time putting Chanyeol into your mouth the best you could. Your determination made him chuckle, but the feeling of your tongue swiping across his sensitive skin left him groaning. Tears blurred your vision from your effort, but it didn’t deter you. Chanyeol soon took the reins, holding himself up with one hand against the lockers behind you, his other hand holding the back of your head to keep it steady so that he could fuck himself into your mouth.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he huffed. He decided to test your limits by shoving himself in until your nose pressed against his pelvis. Immediately, you’re gagging around him and his head fell back. “I knew you could take all of me. So good. You feel so good. Shit.”

You couldn’t help but moan from his praises, fighting the urge to play with yourself. The sound vibrated around him, causing his hips to jerk, sinking deeper into you.

He dragged himself out. “Shit. I need to be in you.”

“Fucking finally,” you coughed.

He barked a laugh. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to suck me off.”

“True.” You sighed dreamily. He shook his head and started undressing. You followed suite, eager to get to the main event.

When you’re standing in front of him completely naked, he took a few steps back to get a good look. “Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

The compliment made you light up. It was so genuine and sweet, it made you want to please him even more. “Then touch me.”

He obliged you straightaway. Large hands roamed your body, lips wandered the expanse of your neck and chest before settling on your lips.

Without breaking the kiss, Chanyeol lifted you up to lay you gently on the bench. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it would have to do. He slid you towards the edge where he stood and practically squatted to line himself up to you.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked. He rubbed his cock against your soaked pussy distractedly as he awaited your consent.

You nodded quickly. “Yes. Dear god, yes, Chanyeol! I want this. I want you.”

“You want me?” You asked, teasingly.

“So bad,” you babbled. “Please. Please fuck me. Fuck me, Chanyeol. Now. Shit.”

His smile was so large, you swore you could see all of his teeth. “If you insist.”

Then he’s pushing into you. The stretch had your jaw dropping, had you holding onto the bench for dear life as he found a steady rhythm. His dick had you feeling crazy. Every thrust pushed a moan out your throat, as your head snapped from one side to the other, and words unintelligently left your swollen lips. All you could register in your lust ridden mind was him and the intense pleasure he selflessly gave. You’d never experienced anything like it. Chanyeol reached into your fucking soul, leaving you quaking from overstimulation. You wanted him to stop, needed a moment to gather yourself, but he wasn’t allowing you a moment of rest. You were too far gone to voice it anyway.

Little did you know, you were also too much for him. Too wet. Too warm. He’d imagined fucking you plenty of times, but the real thing was indescribable. Unlike anything he could’ve conjured up. You were beyond anything he could’ve conjured. “So perfect. You’re so perfect for me, Angel.”

He gathered you into his embrace, holding your damp body tightly against his own. Lifting you slightly off the bench, he picked up his pace. Your tortured sounds were now directly in his ear, tantalizing him. His strokes grew messy, fueled by a desperation that bridged onto the animalistic.

“I’m gonna come,” you urgently warned, but it wasn’t enough time. You were violently cumming as soon as you finished speaking. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as you stiffened in Chanyeol’s arms. Toes and fingers curled as your head fell back, eyes rolling. You started squeezing him so damn tight he could barely move inside you.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered, barely having enough time to pull out. He came on your lower stomach in intense spurts that had his hips jerking hard.

Depleted, he fell to his knees, unable to hold himself up any longer. His head rested against your thigh as he fought to catch his breath.

“Holy hell,” he groaned. “You’re fucking amazing.”

You’d been staring unseeingly at the ceiling since he pulled out, but his words brought you back to reality. “I think you killed me.”

He chuckled and spanked your thigh playfully. “Hurry up and shower. I owe you dinner.”

You struggled into a sitting position so that you could see him. He had a content lazy grin on his face, eyes nearly closed as he leaned against you looking so cute your heart started to ache. Feeling sentimental, you started combing your fingers through his sweaty hair. “Like a date?”

He became thoughtful, lifting a finger to play with his cum dripping down your belly. His touch reignited your desire instantly, but you brushed it off.

“I would like it to be, yes.”

You’re absolutely beaming. “Okay. I’ll hurry.”

He backed away so that you could get up to head to the showers. Right before you entered, you turned to him. “Aren’t you going to join me?”

"Babe?" His husky voice scares you as you thought he was asleep. He cannot find out about this. "What happened? Are you okay?"

You cover the stained bedsheets with a blanket but he frowns, pulling them away.

"My period came tonight" you finally explain, looking away from him. Chanyeol lifts your chin, giving a sweet peck on your lips as he strokes your cheeks with his thumb.

"Don't worry, babe, why don't you go and take a hot shower as I handle this?" Chanyeol is still half sleep, only one of his eyes open and his voice a few octaves lower than usual. "Come on, go clean yourself"

"But this-"

"I got this" he smiles, leaning to peck your lips for a second time.

When you get out of the shower, covered only by a towel since your clothes are hung on the shower after washing them, you cannot help but smile at the sight. The bedsheets have been changed, he has left some of his cozy clothes for you to wear and some pads and painkillers next to it.

You quickly change, wanting to find him to cuddle and kiss him. Do you have the best boyfriend in the world? Yes, you do.

"Chanyeol?"

The coffee table in the living room is full of snacks and sweets, two glasses with white wine in the middle. The sofas are covered in fluffy blankets

"I was going to make breakfast but it's lunch time already so I ordered tons of sushi, snacks and netflix are ready, cozy blankets to cuddle and I have this hot bag for the pain"

Chanyeol's smile calm your nerves. 

“You are the best” 

The world’s a little quiet today, or maybe she thinks this way because the AC is on full mode. Her earphones are pressed on her ears, and her fingers are running over the laptop keyboard in light speed. Everything she’s doing is an example of tranquility. She’s trapped in this sphere of solitude, and she loves it. The library is entirely empty, too, considering it’s early in the morning for torture. But whatever, she likes when things are clear and monotonous.

Of course, every good thing is bound to the burden of decomposition, and so her quiet is disturbed. At first, it’s just a body that’s hovering over her table. A large body. Enough to darken her desk and wide enough to block the cool air of the AC gushing over her. She’s intending to ignore it, but she’s not exactly good at that. So she takes off her earphone and pauses her monstrous clicking. She looks up, glare taking place over the dead shapes of her bitch face, ready to confront the person stripping her of her cocoon. Only, she doesn’t see a stranger.

It’s a man, and she’s not familiar with men - usually she’s just a virgin in all aspects of the opposite sex - but he’s not a face well forgotten. He’s one of the dudes that people whispered about in the hallways, and even her, an antisocial not-give-a-shit girl has heard about him. She’s a bit mortified about his sudden station over her table, but she forgets about her curiosity to resume her glaring. He winces a little because of her harsh glaring, especially when she pulls her earphones so she can hear the sound of her eyes going absolutely still in the dangerous motion. Besides him stands another man, a taller one, and he, too, sparks recognition in her well-organized mind. But she doesn’t give this other man attention; she only looks at the shorter guy.

“I have a proposition.” He says, trying to keep his voice steady. She’s a little - a lot - annoyed about his demanding tone, as if he’s used to dropping requests that take no for an answer. So, she scoffs.

“No.”

His eyes, which were narrowed down in a way to intimidate her (as if) widen a little, and he splutter. “You didn’t even hear what I have to say!”

“Don’t care, still no.” She returns back to her speedy typing, just to have something to do and to irritate the guy. God knows how well-versed she is in the effects of ignorance. She hopes he too, is immensely annoyed by it.

His narrowed eyes go a little wide, before he narrows them again. He looks down at the unoccupied chair across her chair, then at her, who’s still pretending to be immersed in her ridiculous writing, before pulling the chair out from under the table and plopping his pretty little butt over it. She doesn’t give him the attention he desires, not even when he releases a big sigh of relief. She keeps on clicking on her keyboard, completely unbothered. This makes him annoyed for some reason. No other female has ignored him like that when he graced them with his pretty, dark presence, and no other person has taken it so far to pretend he doesn’t exist, either. He’s damn well-aware of what he does to people, both genders, whatnot with his beautiful kohl-ridden eyes, his thin, pink lips that perfectly curl into a pout that’s deadly, and his killer body. What’s wrong with this woman? He actually came here by the stupid, stupid convincing tactics of his friend to beg for help, and he’s being swiped off like dirt? Ridiculous!

He curls a fist over his mouth like a fake posh man and clears his throat, making her look at him with her deadly, iridescent eyes. “What if I offered you ten thousand dollars for catching a mice trap in the Dark Dungeons?”

The Dark Dungeons is a place in the university’s library where everyone just pretends doesn’t exist for some reason - probably because of all the boring past researchers of the graduated students stacked there - and ultimately ended up being deserted. A lot of students are scared to venter there alone, recapping fake tales about pale ghosts and demons that are there to hunt them. She’s not afraid of such stupidity.

“Okay,” she shrugs casually, pausing in her rapid typing and closing her laptop. The student blinks at the quick gesture. “Pay it in cash?”

He’s dumbfounded; of course he is. He hadn’t anticipated his dumb proposition (which isn’t even real) to be met with such ease. He continues to blink, “But you just said no.”

She shrugs again, crossing her fingers over her laptop like a CEO waiting for a colleague’s destruction. The fist he’s holding against his mouth is put down on the desk. He wipes his expression clear of his flabbergast. She doesn’t allow him to say anything, though. “It depends on the proposition, really, and my capabilities in doing it. I can catch a mice trap in the presumptuous Dark Dungeons, and I will agree on it for ten thousand dollars. This is, knowing you, the only good offer you’ll be willing to give. I don’t want to hear the rest, because I know the rest, and I refuse the rest beforehand.”

“So you know who I am?” He sounds delightfully surprised. It’s the only thing he caught from her monologue, the fact she knows who he is despite only discovering about her recently.

She gives him a look as if he’s an idiot. Then, she returns to her work and opens the laptop. His cheeks flush at that look, still surprised that she’s not even remotely affected by him. He finally gives his companion, a tall guy who casually slipped on the seat beside him and practically occupying the entire space with his large body, a helpless look; and his friend merely shrugs disinterestedly.

“Hey,” he changes tactics by knocking on her desk with his knuckles, his eyebrows slightly growing narrowed as he frowns.

The man’s a little bit upturned by the mischievous twinkle that goes on like a bell on her eyes as she ignores him, a spark that would have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t been sitting close to her. But it’s strange nevertheless to see her, a woman so poised, a woman full of confidence and empathy, show such molecular emotion. Mind blowing

“Look at me. Hey!”

She looks up at him, the twinkle shifting into deep, rooted annoyance. “Yes? Is there anything of significance that you want to tell aside offering a proposition to a complete stranger?”

He’s dumbfounded yet again. “Is that a way to talk to someone? What a potty mouth you have! Do you use it to kiss people?”

She’s the one dumbfounded now, fooled at her own game of ignorance. “Excu.. excuse me! Potty mouth! Me? I’m a polite person, thank you very much. I’m just in tune with reciprocation at the moment.”

He sounds extremely frustrated when he says, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

The companion of the rotten boy clears his throat before she can retaliate, and she gives him her attention for the first time since he sat himself next to his friend. His face is long and droopy, lazy, and his eyes are squinted as if he’s trying to make sense of her tiny figure sitting across. When he speaks, his voice is husky. “Yah, don’t yell. We’re in a library.”

They glare at him, their eyes holding icicles. He huffs. “The last time I’ve been here, the librarian kicked me out for knocking one of his shelves. If he knows that I’m here again, which he will by your loud voices, I’m going to be staked. I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve seen a lot of vampire movies. Staking seems really hurtful.”

They shoot him disbelieved eyes. He puts a hand over his chest. “I have a sensitive heart. A wooden stake will make my delicate organ scar. That’s not good on my resumé.”

The first guy gapes at his friend, whereas she shakes her head in disappointment of being a part of this conversation. She goes back to her work while poking her tongue on the insides of her cheek, trying to restrain her growing fury.

“What?” The tall companion looks at his friend weirdly, “You haven’t seen the resumés I’ve seen online. They have applications out of this world. What if my beautifully intricate heart is required? Don’t want it marred!”

“Why the fuck would anyone ask for an image of your heart, Yeol? What job even requires the internal lookout of your organs?” His friend rebuts.

“How’d I know? I’m not logged in to alljobs.com!”

“Maybe you should, so you’ll be prepared to have a reasonable answer to your dumb shenanigans!”

“Will you both just shut up!” She snaps, smashing her laptop closed (again). They turn to her, blinking. “Why the fuck you’d even sit in front of a person you don’t know and have this conversation while they’re listening?”

They look scorned, cheeks going red. They regretfully look down at their laps, fiddling with their fingers.

“Now,” she exhales from her nose angrily, resembling a red-faced dragon (she doesn’t actually blush, but the running fury that’s gobbling her up leaves her face looking like a swollen tomato). “What the fuck do you want?”

The smaller man opens his mouth to say his demands once again, but she rudely raises an open palm up, squinting. “Speak gently. And slowly. And politely.”

He glares but complies. “I have something to ask of you, a proposition. Actually, you’re not a stranger, at least not as if now. I know who you are.”

She quirks a sharp eyebrow up, unrelentingly and very judgmentally. She’s not the type of person to be swayed over anything, definitely not over this man, too.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re one of the smartest students in our batch, and I kinda have been going through a lot with one of my assignments, so this idiot here told me to ask you for help.” He points to his companion, who salutes mockingly using two of his fingers. “It’s about the aftermath of war, and the effects it leaves on the intermingled classes of eighteenth century China. I’m very bad at writing shit. I confuse my statements; I fail at rearranging my paragraphs; I suck at choosing intellectual perspectives; and I most definitely can’t be on the neutral side to the point of sounding extremely radical. Would you help me write my research? It’s worth a bit of my marks considering I didn’t take the midterm for, ahem, certain reasons,” there’s a soft hue of red that glows in his cheeks, and feeling his blush, he scratches them with his long nails awkwardly.

“No.” The cute color doesn’t deter her at all, and she begins to collect her laptop and books to leave. Or, pretending to. She does not have any thought about leaving, not even when there’s a handsome stranger trying to invade her tranquil space. But, regardless of her wants, such gesture made the man nervous. He snaps his head up, eyes wide, and pushes himself to his feet quickly to stop her from leaving.

“Why not?” He begins to be angry. “Is this because you know who I am? Does my... Does our reputation precedes us?”

She gives him a cooly leveled look. “I only give favors to friends. You’re not a friend. Very simply. I couldn’t care less about your reputation, which does in fact precedes you. People tend to talk about things they don’t understand. The juiciest the gossip, the more people want to talk about it.” She pauses a little, confusedly staring at them. “Don’t you guys know that? When you wear these clothes, pierce all parts of your body, flash all of your tattoos, and walk around intimidating people, they will talk badly about you. Huh, I thought you guys are smart enough to discover this much about the nature of people.”

Whereas he looks startled out of his way with the sincerity in her words, It’s the companion who takes the time to speak. He asks her, his eyebrow raised. “Why’d you think we’re smart?”

She smirks at him, and he’s surprised that it’s actually playful, not malicious. “It’s only those that rebel the constant demands of society that have their heads teetered towards either intelligence, or insanity.” She slings her bag on her shoulder, her face going back to its previous expressionless slate. “Bye now.”

She doesn’t leave. She merely just stands and watches them watching her. It takes the two university boys a second to understand the implications behind her words, and when they do, they groan. They stand up, albeit slowly, and the shorter one dares to shoot her a grumpy, malicious glare, before walking away. The taller one simply tilts his head downwards in a respectable nod before following his friend.

Once they leave, she smiles, and the curl of her lips makes her face radiant, a whole lot flowery than the actual blanket of monochromatic nothingness that usually sticks on her all the time. She sits back down on her seat, opens her laptop, and begins to type again.

-

Oh the long road. Oh the long road. She sighs in her head, her legs heavy and unbalanced, almost sending her to the ground with how weak they feel. After almost six hours in university, with three classes and breaks in between, she’s finally done with all the nonsense that she, daily, has to face. Actually, university hasn’t been on her mind before in high school when she was in her senior year for this exact reason. She is too lazy for something overloaded like university. But, if she is being honest with herself, she doesn’t see herself in any place besides university, especially if she wants to have a ‘decent’ job. So, she tries to succumb to the voice compelling her to move forward, and ignoring the one that tells her to fuck everything and flop on the ground, dead.

A sound calling her name stops her in her long, angry strides, and she turns to the back to see her friend, Sami, waving for her, smiling so preciously that actual stars appear on her eyes. She’s not oblivious to the crowd gathering behind Sami, all males (and some females) staring at her with eyes twinkling with hearts. She reluctantly wave back, and Sami comes running towards her, beaming once she’s standing in front of her.

“You’re heading home?” Her friend asks.

She hums without a verbal consent. Her friend beams again.

“Great!” Sami loops their arms together. “Lets go together, and while we’re on the way, buy me a cocktail.”

“Alcohol this early? And why should I buy you one?” She raises an eyebrow up in ridicule, even though she already knows the answer to her rather dumb question.

Sami rolls her eyes. “No, an actual cocktail, with fruits and all. And you should buy me one because I’m your humble friend who asks nothing of you at all.”

“You ask for things all the time,” she narrows her eyes, and points at Sami’s earrings. “I bought you those earrings,” she points at her bag. “And I bought you this bag. And those shoes. I might as well buy you a house to live in if I’m already this much husband material.”

Sami grins, beaming, and her grip over her arm tightens. “It’d be so great if my future husband actually pays for all of my things. I’ll be a pretty, studious, working housewife that do things for him and accommodate all of his precious needs. Aw, I miss him already.”

“You should be careful not to say this in front of another woman that isn’t me.”

Sami blinks cluelessly. “Why? I didn’t say anything infuriating, did I?”

She pats her head sympathetically, her hand calloused despite the gentle, sardonic gesture. “Not at all. Not at all.”

They walk out of the university’s large grounds with Sami the one doing most of the talking, the bouncing, and the gleeful intervals; her grip tight around her arm, and her soft laughter surrounding them whole. She wouldn’t say that she was entirely comfortable about the concept of having a friend, but it has been two years now since she knew Sami, and she began to understand that in order to enjoy something beautiful, you have to watch it burn first, which’s why she, despite not liking it, disposed herself of her antisocial behavior, and stuck around with Sami.

Upon the huge gates of the university, she catches sight of the two students who had interrupted her morning study with their obnoxious presence. They’re standing in front, one of them - the tall one - is leaning against the large beige wall beside the gates, and the nuisance - the one requesting - is crouching on the floor right beside him, a fake cigar made of paper in between his fingers. They’re already staring at her, anticipating her exit. When her eyes meet the dark ones of the crouching guy, he smirks, his pink lips thin and inviting. He puts the fake paper in his mouth, pretending to inhale, and then pulls it off to exhale loudly, his eyes suddenly half lidded. He’s staring at her. She stares back, then she narrows her eyes, ticking her chin to the side in a silent request for him to look away. His smirk widens, and he doesn’t look away; his eyes invading her soul to the point she feels something scratch at the surface of her skin, begging to be released.

She scoffs. And almost as if he’s hearing her, he waggles his eyebrows teasingly. She blanches, disgusted, and her facial expression catches Sami’s attention.

“Who’re you looking at?” Sami turns to follow her friend’s eyes before she can look away, furrowing her eyes upon seeing the two boys. She turns to her friend curiously; nervously. “Do you... do you know them?”

She’s quick to shake her head, “Nah, I don’t know them outside the rumors that I heard circulating about them. I think one of their names starts with a B? Or an H? Anyhow, I don’t know who they are.”

“Why are they looking at you?”

She shrugs. “Beats me. Probably think I’m a visible, touchable time loop or something. That’d be cool. Have you ever seen Doctor Strange?”

Sami stares at her as if she’s an alien. “What on earth are you talking about?”

She shakes her head. “Never mind. Let’s quicken our pace. Maybe we’ll lose them in the crowd.”

As if hearing their words, the two boys jump to their feet (the one standing merely bouncing around) and they follow after them like two little creeps. They don’t say anything for a while, like announce their already large presence, and she ticks her head backwards with raised eyebrows, meeting their amused - yet frustrated - faces. She tilts her head, silently asking them about what the fuck they’re doing, and the shorter one of the two shrugs, the taller one smirking a little, the cigarette roll that was wrapped around the other’s mouth now in his. She looks away.

Sami notices her friend’s head going forward and backward, and turn around to give them a funny look, a little nervous for some reason. She looks back at her friend and pulls at her sleeve, a frozen smile on her face. “They’re following us.”

“If there’s an ice cube, large enough to have legs and is following me, and the world is so flabbergasted by it’s appearance, but you’re only concerned about taking your way home without interruptions. Would something happen if I gave it attention? No, you know why?“ she leans closer to Sami and with her big, wide eyes, she whispers. “Because it’ll melt away.”

Sami shakes her head in exasperation. Even after two years of being friends with her; she’s never getting used to her random thought processes. Either-way, Sami doesn’t feel entitled enough to say anything against that, and although she releases a little grumble from her chest in irritation at the skin contact, she doesn’t remove her arm away. Smiling, she leans her head on her shoulder.

“Yah. You can’t just pretend we don’t exist.” The shorter one says, or yells really.

His friend scoffs, and it’s strangely shudder-inducing because of his low grating voice. “We’ll follow you home if destiny calls.”

Sami lifts her head to peek at them, then quickly looks at her calm, astute friend. “Are you not going to answer?”

“A bird could constantly peck on my window and I wouldn’t shoo it away. I’m too lazy.”

Sami’s eyes mellow down, and her lips smile. “But that’s exactly what you do, sweetie. You can’t handle disturbances, especially when it affects your general surroundings.”

“You’re right. I’m going to kick their ass.” She stops in her gait, turns around, and glares; Sami stopping next to her. The two university boys pause in their strides, blinking.

“Question, exactly why was I chosen among the high grades receiving bastards in our class?” She raises her eyebrows up. “Is it because you think I’m easy? Or I’m a woman? Is it because you think I’m nice?” She says nice as if it’s a heinous word created for her personal offense.

The boys share a confused look. Then, the tall one clears his throat, readying himself for the paragraph he’s about to spout. “I’ve never once thought you’re easy, and neither have Baekhyun. We’ve seen the way you talked back to the teachers, and man, do you have a temper. I’m actually a bit shaky right now because I’m asking this favor of you. I’m not a misogynist, man. Why’d you make me something I’m not. love women. I love all wonen. Perhaps a little too much,” Baekhyun, the short guy beside him, is nodding his head sadly, “I’d have told Baekhyun to choose Dahyeon if I thought she was as responsible as you are. But the girl’s a klutz. She ruined a paper of mine once. Won’t let her do it again,” he then tilts his head, his confused face getting graver. “I’m sure as fuck you’re not kind, or nice. I wouldn’t have already been going through emotional trauma just by the thought of approaching you, yet, here we are.”

“Here we are.” Baekhyun spreads his arm with a surrendering look flashing on his handsome face.

Sami turns to her friend and analyzes the stone cold expression on her face. She hesitates, for a second, before she says. “They do have a point. You’ve traumatized half of the population in this university.”

“We still have two more years for you to traumatize the rest.” Baekhyun comments cheekily. When she shoots him a glare, he winks. She’s a little surprised. She hadn’t met anyone who winked at her deadly stare-offs. People are terrified of her, not amused of her.

“How many pages do you want your assignment to be? Mine’s going to be a minimum of eight, considering it’s only a meager homework, so I’ll try to shove your own pages between my breaks to save time.”

Their eyes go wide. Baekhyun actually gulps, unprepared for the challenge. “You write eight pages for an assignment worth ten marks?”

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re here begging for help for this stupid assignment, so I guess we’re both pulling up our shits, right?”

He shuts up.

It’s the tall one that answers. “Any page number is fine. Take your pick.”

She nods, “You’ll have five pages, then. I take breaks in between my classes. I have two-to-three classes for five days aside Saturdays and Tuesdays, so we’ll write two pages every week until its due date in three weeks’ time,” she takes her phone and shoves it in the chest of the short guy. “Give me your number so I text you the hours I’m free on. I don’t give a shit if our schedules overlap. When I tell you to come, you come, with your laptop and all of your writing necessities with you. One mistake and you’re out, get it?”

Baekhyun sweats, especially since her expression is deadly serious and her hand, which is still clutching her phone on his chest is cold, deadly so. He gulps anyway and nods. “Thank you, really. Appreciate it. Is there anything I can do for you to repay the favor?”

She smirks, and pulls her hand off of his chest after he accepts the phone. “A bad boy who knows how to say thank you? That’s a new one. And keep the favor until after you deliver your assignment. I’m not sure you’ll wanna give me any favors after I’m done with you. Say, are you willing to pay money?”

He pales. “I’m poor as fuck, ma’am, expected of a university student, right? Please say yes.”

She smirks again, amused of the panic in his eyes. “Relax, idiot. Just wanna check something.” She turns to the tall one. He’s staring right back at her, eyes wide and brown hair fluffy. For a bit, she’s taken aback by the actual fact of how gorgeous he is. Wide, almond eyes, soft hair, tall girth like a skyscraper, and she fucking loves skyscrapers, the taller, the better. He’s wearing a weird mesh of jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket, but he’s also wearing a sweater on top. He must be sweating in there. His wide eyes turn a little confused when she merely gapes at him, and she notices. She clears her throat, and rolls her eyes so the spectators don’t notice she’s a weird bitch.

“What’s your name?” She asks coldly. There’s a strange warmth circulating her body, but of course, she ignores that.

“Sorry?” He splutters.

She lifts a sleek eyebrow up, holding herself from smirking widely. “Your name,” she points at Baekhyun, who’s blinking down at her phone like it’s a foreign industrial scam. “This moron’s Baekhyun. Kinda noticed you mention his name. What’s your name? I’m a bit curious to know about the chaperone’s name, considering they’re always so ignored and unappreciated in movies.”

He looks a bit flustered, as if he hasn’t noticed he has been a chaperone all this time. He wipes the slight vulnerability that flashed earlier, twirls the paper stick in his mouth, and gives her a mock salute. “Chanyeol, ma’am, but don’t bother memorizing it. We wouldn’t be seeing each other enough for the need of that.”

She doesn’t comment on his words even though she’s curious. She merely tells herself he’s as weird as she is, probably a little arrogant, but of course not as her. No one’s as arrogant as her. She sits on the throne of arrogance. Her parents once thought she had narcissistic syndrome, those assholes, but dismissed it later on when she gave them enough evidence she wasn’t. She pays attention to Baekhyun, coughing to alert him of the actual fact he has been taking too much time typing gibberish on her phone, and not his phone number. She swears to God he probably failed to reach her contacts. He looked like a dumb loser up close like that, but she didn’t want to judge him so severely. A guy who winks at her instead of shit his pants must be a dumbass, but again, she doesn’t want to judge.

Baekhyun looks up from her phone upon her cough, smirks his annoyingly attractive smirk, and juggle the phone towards her (after locking it, for some reason) she tries catching her phone, and thankfully she succeeds. She glares, about to scold him about the degrading act of her precious gadget, when he all but announces.

“We’ll go see our own way now. Thank you for such precious moment. Perhaps we’ll be able to create more while avoiding chopped heads, from your part, of course. May the grounds open up to present you with a fortunate gift,” he does a whole theatrics of bowing, while simultaneously taking a step back, bumping into an unamused Chanyeol. “Adios, my lady.”

He turns around to Chanyeol, who whispers something to him. They begin to walk away, and Baekhyun says something to the taller guy, in retaliation, which earns him an eye roll. Not taking this lightly, Baekhyun jumps - to reach the tall giant - so he can wrap his arm around his neck, and pulls him into a headlock. Chanyeol doesn’t fight. He lets himself be dragged like a deadweight doll, like he’s used to such abuse, and she shakes her head. Chanyeol seemed cool with his indifference, but perhaps he isn’t the one in total control here.

Sami calls her softly, and forgetting her only friend for a bit - the two boys have extremely large presence - she turns to her. She offers a small smile, showing a dimple to her left side, and Sami beams.

“I’m not even going to ask what the heck just happened,” she offers her a hand, Sami; and she looks at it weirdly. “Ready to go home?”

Sighing, she accepts the hand, and agrees to be dragged home. Sami looks down at their hands; and thinks a little, her brows going all intersected. She shrugs, cooly intertwining their fingers together. She doesn’t even blink at the gesture, having been used to it. Out of character, the only thing on her mind at the moment is those two, strange university men.

-

Author Note:

So?

We haven’t got anything grounded yet. We still have a lot to cover! The personality of ChanBaek is beautiful, stick to see our dumb yet gorgeous boys.

Dude just imagine:

You and Chanyeol are cuddling on your shared bed, your head resting comfortably on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. You lean into his neck as you breathe in his scent and he leans down to kiss your head lovingly. He reaches with his right hand to caress your cheek and you take the sight of his ‘Loey’ tattoo on his finger. You reach up to where his fingers trace your features and bring his hand down to kiss his hands.

“ Why did you decide to get ‘Loey’ as your tattoo?” You question as you play with his fingers.

He chuckles softly as he looks down at you.

“ Because you gave me that nickname and I knew I wanted to keep it forever with me because it will always remind me of you.” He hums as he nuzzles into your hair.

“ Oh my god, Yeol. You’re way too cute!” You squeal as you hug him tighter.

“ But why on your middle finger?” You ask.

He puts a finger under your chin, causing you to look him in the eyes,” So you know what to call me when it slides into you.” He reveals huskily.

You widen your eyes in shock and your face turns red in embarrassment, he just tips his head back to let out his deep laugh. You can’t help your giggles but you shove him slightly.

“ Way to ruin the moment, Yeol.”

'careful babe. walls are paper thin here, we wouldn't to disturb the boys and their movie night now, would we?' he tuts in a mocking tone, purposefully rubbing the head against your swollen clit.

the fact that the others were right behind the wall you were so crudely splayed against made your heart race. but there wasn't much you could do but take your boyfriend's insufferable teasing. he pistons into you, jaw slackening as a stream of noise leaves you.

Pairing: Chanyeol X Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: this post may be triggering to some people. 

With a heavy sigh you stepped out of the bus. It was a long drive home from work, but you were glad that you didn’t have to walk. The rain was pouring from the sky and if you would’ve walked, you surely would have caught a cold the next day. A strange feeling overcame you as you stepped into your apartment. You shared it with your long therm boyfriend Chanyeol and normally he would be home by now, but tonight the apartment was eerie quiet. ‘Chan?’ you called softly as you took of your shoes and hung up your coat. When no answer came you walked to the kitchen. All the lights were turned off and so was the heater, shivers wrecking through your body. As you looked out of the window, you saw a familiar car pull out of the garage. Your eyes widened and your breath was knocked out of your lungs. He wouldn’t leave you, would he? As fast as you could you ran down the stairs, only to find the car driving away as you ran out the door. You ran after the car, even though your mind told you it was useless. ‘Chanyeol!’ Completely drenched you walked back into your apartment, only now spotting the difference. All of Chanyeol’s belongings were gone. With a broken cry you let yourself fall to the ground. Everything was gone and shattered now. ‘Please come back...’ 

Moonlight It was simple, at the very first time they meet her eyes they knew what they had to do. It was so simple, their leader had already passed through it, they’ve grown up listening stories about it, their mom had told them about it so why they couldn’t do it. Why they couldn’t make her choose one of them?

“It’s more simple than that, I don’t want to choose and I will not choose. If both of you are my soul mate why I have to turn down one of you? I don’t understand why I cant be with both of if both of want and were made to be with me.”

Masterlist

Moonlight  

 Prologue

Masterlist

Photo not mine, got it from google

Author: @loeyeolty​ AU: Ambiguous Genre: Fluff Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader Word Count: 719

Plot: You hate kids. Period. But what happens when all your boyfriend wants for Christmas..is a baby?

Part I | Part II

“Yeol, what do you want for Christmas?”

“I want a son.” He grins mischeviously.