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"I am going to slap you so hard across the face you're going to black out and wake up in a new dimension."
"Oh - try me, bitch. I will suffocate you with this pillow until you're begging me to let go."
You gripped your pillow tighter, preparing yourself to make that threat a promise. Saeran clenched his fists, as if trying to show that he was as well. He growled, narrowing his eyes to make them as pointed as knives. He was angry. You were angry. You both wanted to forget that one another existed, but everyone was used to how often you two didn't get along. They couldn't take you both out somewhere at once because, well, it would result like this. Arguing, threats - you two just didn't click. It wasn't that you, ah, hated each other or anything, because in reality -
You weren't going to even try and lie to yourself. You hated Saeran with a passion. He hated you with a passion. But there was that key word there: passion.
"Maybe if you sit on my lap like a good little pet I'll take mercy on you." Saeran spat.
"Maybe if you shove your tongue down my throat and make me choke anyway I'll be a good pet."
Saeran snickered. "You're so desperate."
"I'll still suffocate you."
"I'll still slap you."
You laughed, shaking your head. A rough, somewhat cold hand closed around your wrist, yanking you closer, the pillow falling out of your grasp. You toppled on top of him, but he fixed this, yanking you upright and pushing you against the couch so he could straddle and hover over you. His arms caged you in to the couch, a grin across his face. You shivered as you saw the dominating look in his eyes, the wicked way he laughed to himself as he moved forward, moving one of his hands to grasp at your shoulder, abruptly slamming his lips into yours.
It was rough from the start, not even bothering to build up, tongue forcing itself past your lips. You scrunched your nose, displeased with his manners, but you didn't fight against him. You pushed against his arms, but he forced you to sit still by tightening his grasp on your shoulder.
Oh, it was a fight for dominance, always. But you knew that tonight he would be the winning party. Some nights, you fought until you had him under you, but for now, you wanted him on you. His lips, tongue, hands - you didn't really care if he would mock you for hours on end. You liked this. You both liked this. It got on others nerves about how much you two argued, but you two were insane to deny you absolutely hated each other to the core. Sure, you hated him, but at the same time you couldn't lie that he was too good.
His tongue roughly caressed yours, and you shivered, growling, biting down on his tongue gently. He winced, moving forward again to do the same to you. You cringed. What a copycat.
A string of saliva connected your lips as he pulled away from you. His hands traveled to grip your thighs tightly. You stuck your tongue out at him childishly.
"Ew. You're gross."
"You're disgustingly cute." He responded, squeezing your thighs painfully. You laugh.
"Hah. Fine, I'll give you that one, asshole. But get the fuck off of me."
Saeran glared at you. "No."
"...Is it gonna be one of those nights again?" You asked, though you probably shouldn't have with how obvious the answer was. His fingers crept under the bottoms of your shorts. You could feel the cockiness radiating off of him.
"You bet."