#this feels like cheating bc like i said this one has a home

[charlottecutepie]

hi Lizzy, sorry to bother you but can I request for a Henry X reader? My man lacks content about him :(( it can be about anything I don't mindd

⋆୨♡୧⋆ Henry Emily x fem!reader smut blurb

author note: thank u for this request love! don't know why but breeding kink + size kink is henry, also him having a dad bod is canon for me. also important: the way i imagine henry is by @kcokaine_ on twitter

tags: nsfw, smut, vaginal sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise, size kink, softdom!henry, jealous!henry, but he tries to hide it, william is an asshole, public sex, breeding kink, missionary, established relationship, Henry’s dilf bc i said so

William has no shame, Henry realized that a long time ago. Especially when he found out that William was cheating on his wife. William doesn't have a shred of damn shame when he lets himself touch you. When he literally fucks you with his eyes. When he tries to give you fucking compliments. Henry rarely experiences such feelings of anger and jealousy. Henry hates himself for his gentle nature and for not being able to punch his friend right into his face. Especially when the pizzeria hall is full of children and their parents as they have no idea what a disgusting asshole William is.

Of course, Henry could have waited until he got home and made love to you there, fucking you so good that you'd have forgotten William's name. But there's always a but. Today Henry wants William to know that you don't need anyone's else's cock but his.

When Henry warned you that his hands were big enough, you just laughed and softly pushed him into his broad chest, that was a joke, right?

But you're not laughing when you feel how true his words turned out to be. Not just the hands, but in fact the whole Henry. His physique is far from athletic, this man isn’t so young anymore and doesn't really keeps his figure, but damn, these muscles that reminds so much of his youth, dad bod, wide shoulders and his damn tall height, you're nearly whining. Now you realise what he was talking about (or warning?), there's only one of his fingers inside you, but it feels like all three. You're wet, incredibly horny and dripping, but it doesn't make it any easier. Henry looks into your eyes, and then his gaze falls on your pussy taking his finger. He frowns, he doesn't want to take out his anger and jealousy on you at all, he just can't do this to you, he loves you too much, so he tries to do everything gently and slowly.

“Kiss me,” you whisper to him, your eyes filled with nothing but desire. Henry looks up at you and then crushes his lips on yours, as if he's been waiting for these words all his life. He kisses you softly and sensually, with all his love and affection he have for you, for his girl. Without taking his mouth off yours, he adds another finger and you pull away to make a loud moan, but Henry literally shuts you up with his palm.

“Remember you can't be loud, sweetheart,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead as he thrusts his large fingers in and out of your soaked cunt. “you can take it.” his low and dominant, but soft tone as he speaks quietly only arouses you more.

You desperately nod and he puts his hand off you, now holding one of your legs open to prevent you from closing them. All this time he stares into your eyes, watching your face and reaction. His thick digits stretch you open just good, making you shiver. Henry curls them slightly, rubbing against your soft spots until you moan, pressing yourself against his hand shamelessly. “Henryyy—” you whine, your pussy clenches around his finger, so fucking wet and responsive.

“Goddamn,” he whispers, pulling his finger out with a wet sound and rubs your swollen clit. You moan again, arching your hips towards him, begging for more contact. “need to taste you, princess.” he says raspingly, pressing his finger on your little bud.

He kisses the inside of your thigh softly, making his way slowly towards your core. You whimper as you feel his tongue on your clit, your legs twitch in pleasure. Henry holds you firmly as he eats you out, he's kissing and circling your sensitive bundle with his tongue. It feels too divine, too fucking good and you can't hold your loud noises, biting your own hand. “Ohh, please—” you cry out as he buries his face deeper into your needy pussy.

You're trembling as your hand grips the edge of the desk tightly, mouth open as you pant heavily, trying your best not to scream. He greedily laps at your slit, sliding his tongue all over your aching hole as it clenches around nothing, but Henry makes sure to fill it with his finger and it makes you see stars. He hums into your pussy, sucking on your clit and thrusting his finger in and out of you. You arch and shiver pathetically, your brows furrowed as your face confronted in pure bliss. Henry fingers you slowly, making sure to prepare and stretch you out perfectly for his cock. Every lick sends ripples of sensation throughout your core, he knows damn well how to make his girl feel good.

“Tha-that feels so good, anngh. . .” you bite your lower lip till nearly blood as Henry makes out with your pussy, so fucking messy, but he looks like he's too drunk to care about you trying to push his head away from overwhelming pleasure. “waittt!” you feel so close, especially when he finger fucks you so slow and gently while pleasuring you with his tongue. “'m gonna cum, Hen—. . . Fuck!” Henry groans, pulling away only for some seconds just to spit on your sloppy cunt before attacking it with kisses again. You taste too sweet.

“Cum on my face, sweetheart,” he murmurs, incoherent as he never really stops eating you out. “be my good girl.” for a moment he flashes you a small smile and you almost whine from how hot he looks, his chin cowered in your slick and hair messy. You smile weakly in return and when he thrusts his finger deeper adding to that sloppy lick on your clit, you feel your orgasm approach you. You moan and you don't give a fuck how loud that sounds, but in secret Henry is damn happy as you let that fucking William know how good your man makes you feel.

Your head spinning as you breathe heavily, chest rising up and down when Henry looks at you with drunk face expression. He stands up and takes your face into his hands, giving you more possessive than soft kiss now, letting you taste yourself. That's filthy, too much, Henry isn't like that in other people's eyes. Only for you.

He trails his kisses down your neck and finally reaches your breasts, he kisses both, touch them and fondle them and groans at how perfectly they look in his big hands. Henry sucks on your nipples, all this time fucking your dripping pussy with his fingers, never wanting to hurt you with his size, he knows you're a big girl and you'll take him, but he prefers to avoid any kind of pain. He tries to relax you to maximum. But what he doesn't know is that you're already too needy and hungry for him, wanting something more than just his fingers.

“My sweet girl.” he calls you while he holds you by the waist and slides his cock all over your hole, his head full of thoughts of these freak stares William gave you this evening. He's soft and sweet with you, reminding you of a fluffy teddy bear, but what happens inside his head and how blood boils in his veins from insane jealousy - that's what you don't see and Henry thinks it's for the best, he'll never show that side to you. “so wet for me, want to feel that cock stretching this tiny pussy?” he literally goes feral at the thought of his cock filling you.

“Please, Henry, i need you,” you look into his eyes and your pathetic sight does something to him. Henry gets himself comfortable between your legs, he caresses your cheek as he can't stop looking at how pretty his leaking tip looks rubbing on your clit. He knows he must be gentle and he tries his fucking best.

Henry starts sliding inside you, all this time holding your waist and watching your face for any signs of pain. “Doing so well for me, sweetheart, just like that.” your eyes widen at unexpected feeling, it's not like you two never had sex, but every time he's inside it feels like new. You think you'll never get used to his size. You look at his dick filling you and your pussy clenches down around him as he buries himself deep inside you. Closing your eyes, you try to accommodate to that thickness inside you but not when you feel his thumb making its way to your nub. Henry rubs his thumb in slow, circular motions on your swollen clit as he continues filling your tight cunt. You moan softly beneath him; reaching to lay your hand on his, which working on your clit, while letting out a contented sigh. You two fall into a slow rhythm, each thrust drawing you deeper into your passion.

“Auhh— your so deep inside of me,” you throw your head back, whimpering loudly as every inch of Henry stretches your soppy pussy. Henry thrusts a little bit harder and your breasts bounce slightly which seems like a sweet invitation to him. He presses his lips to your nipple and pulls it, and then licks and sucks, groaning how good you feel.

“This little pussy taking me so well, you're such a good girl, honey,” Henry mutters as he starts thrusting a bit faster.

You throw your leg around him, pulling him deeper into yourself as you cry out for more; wanting to feel every inch and vein of his cock. He hides his face in your chest as he groans at your warmness and wetness around him, your juices making the most beautiful wet sounds as your bodies slap against each other.

“You feel so—” you choke on your own moans as Henry pumps his thick cock faster, you feel him twitching and throbbing inside of you. “awhhh fuck!”

“Just like that, princess,” his lips finds yours in hot kiss again, your eyes flutter closed. “look at you, taking me so well, all pretty and full of my cock. That's where your meant to be, honey, under your man, ughhh, being fucked nice and good. This little pussy, ogghh fuck!” his voice breaks into a loud moan when your cunt tightens once again at his dirty words. “this little pussy belongs to me.”

Your lovely eyes filled with sweet tears of pleasure. “love you, i— awhh, i love you, daddy!” Henry is used to you calling him that when you fuck, although you rarely do because you're still shy. But what you don't know is what effect that word has on him. He's literally going insane, and thank god Henry knows how to control himself, otherwise your pussy would be absolutely ruined right now. Henry doesn't know what he found in that word. Apparently, it still awakens something in him. No, of course, he loves his daughter very much, the only one, he cherishes her. Whenever he sees how much you care about her, he gets some. . . obsessive thoughts. But it feels so fucking right; the idea of expanding your family, watching you blossom into a mother. Would he like to give Charlie a brother or a sister?

Would he like to make you a mom?

Henry gets so lost in his dreams and fantasies that he doesn't even notice his crazy pace and your hot tears streaming down your cheeks, you look so beautiful it drives him crazy. You wrap your hands around his neck and bring his face closer, kissing him again. Kissing him like it's the last time. You hold him close to you and when Henry pulls away to moan again because of how amazing you feel, you press your lips against his forehead and give him soft kisses, asking him to go harder on you. Henry doesn't listen to you, you don't know what you're asking for. If he'll go harder on you. . . Henry sighs, slowing his thrusts. You don't wanna know what'll happen.

Your tight soft walls grip his cock as he bullies your insides, his hand moves down again and he circles your clit nicely and gentle. You rock your hips back and forth faster, desperate to cum, to feel him finishing inside you. Because Henry always pulled out before. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his tip reaches your cervix and you feel close, so fucking close especially with how he stimulates you using his fingers, rubbing and flicking your little clit. “dont p-pull out,” your tone nearly sounds like an order as you feel Henry ready to pull out. He freezes in place and looks at you, breathing heavily, confusion on his face. “want you to cum inside—” you barely finish your words as he plunges deep inside your pussy much rougher and harder than before, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

If he'll cum inside you, if he’ll get you pregnant, William will definitely notice it. He'll see that you're carrying Henry's baby under your heart. Henry thinks, what will be the reaction of everyone's beloved Mr. Afton? Anger, jealousy? Perhaps envy? William has such an envious nature. Henry's smiling, William has always been jealous of him. Henry have the best daughter in the world, the best girlfriend- almost a wife? Henry always takes the best.

“I'm close, sweetheart,” he tells you, his cock sinking deeper inside you and his fingers dug into the plush of your thighs, his thrusts messy, meanwhile you squirm and moan underneath him.

“Breed me— Ahhng, Henry, breed me!” you beg him and and that's the end for him, Henry fucking whimpers. His eyes squeezed shut, his body shaking and he can't control his loud groans as he spills deep inside of you. It feels too good to stop thrusting inside your cunt as he overstimulates both of you, you cumming on his cock while he fills you up, pumping you full of his cum. You grab on him when he pulls out a little. Watching his cum drip out of your little hole, he sighs and fucks it back in, not wanting any drop of him to ooze out of you.

“You're such a good girl, princess. . .” he whispers, kissing your nipples and holding you in his big hands. If Henry was a dirty pervert like William, he'd send you to William right now so he could fucking see his best friend's cum trickling down the inner side of your thighs. But Henry isn't like William and there's no way he'd do that to you. Probably only in his dirtiest and darkest fantasies.

#henry emily x reader #henry emily smut #henry emily #fnaf smut #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #fnaf imagine #william afton x reader

[inkskinned]

love when men cry about body hair bc "it's hygiene" and yet 15% of cis men leave the bathroom without washing their hands at all and an additional 35% only just wet their hands without using soap. that is nearly half of all men. that means statistically you have probably shaken hands with or been in direct contact with one of these people.

love when men say that women "only want money" when it turns out that even in equal-earning homes, women are actually adding caregiver burdens and housework from previous years, whereas men have been expanding leisure time and hobbies. in equal-earning households, men spend an average of 3.5 hours extra in leisure time per week, which is 182 hours per year - a little over a week of paid vacation time that the other partner does not receive. kinda sounds like he wants her money.

love that men have decided women are frail and weak and annoying when we scream in surprise but it turns out it's actually women who are more reliable in an emergency because men need to be convinced to actually take action and respond to the threat. like, actually, for-real: men experience such a strong sense of pride about their pre-supposed abilities that it gets them and their families killed. they are so used to dismissing women that it literally kills them.

love it. told my father this and he said there's lies, damned lies, and statistics. a year ago i tried to get him to evacuate the house during a flash flood. he ignored me and got injured. he has told me, laughing, that he never washes his hands. he has said in the last week that women are just happier when we're cooking or cleaning.

maybe i'm overly nostalgic. but it didn't used to feel so fucking bleak. it used to feel like at least a little shameful to consider women to be sheep. it just feels like the earth is round and we are still having conversations about it being flat - except these conversations are about the most obvious forms of patriarchy. like, we know about this stuff. we've known since well before the 50's.

recently andrew tate tried to justify cheating on his partner as being the "male prerogative." i don't know what the prerogative for the rest of us would be. just sitting at home, watching the slow erosion of our humanity.

#writeblr #warm up #ps edited so it is more clear where “half” of men is coming from: #15% literally don't even touch water #an ADDITIONAL 35% ''wash'' by just running their hands under water WITHOUT SOAP #15+35 =50% #like that is not washing ur hands. go back and use soap #btw the numbers for women are 4% never washing and 15% ''just water'' #which is still gross but like. sooo much better yikes #ps i know we're all gay on this site but watching ppl ''correct'' my math on this has been wild #i have a learning disability im genuinely bad at math so i check EVERY time someone corrects me #but no they're just confidently wrong..... #182 hours is a week babes. 182/24 (number of hours in a day) is ~7.6 #that's where i got that number from. also from rent we know there's 168 hours in a week. #ALSO btw if u read this and ur response is ''men are also struggling rn tho'' like babe you missed the point of it tho #this doesn't even make fun of men it's legit just pointing out that bigotry against women isn't founded #in anything men actually CARE about . like they don't actually CARE about ''being clean'' when they make fun of armpit hair #or they would be WASHING THEIR HANDS. #men pretend to be rollin' in cash and Apex Predators and instead they are trained to be lazy and unwilling to act in emergencies #i have never and will never make fun of men for asking for more support on important topics like DV and mental health. #this is so clearly not about men; it's about how common just being plainly misogynistic has become. #like they don't try to hide it anymore.

[lisired]

smile for the camera

pairing: haechan x (f) reader x jisung (ft. a reoccurring renjun who’s mainly there for suspenseful purposes)

genre/warnings: smut, cheating, unprotected sex, dom!haechan, switch!jisung, switch!reader, jisung is a virgin, degradation, praise, spanking, pussy slapping, sexting, rough kink, edging, really bad 3some scenes bc I am terrible @ balancing attention, oral (both m/f receiving), f I missed smth lmk

summary: upon accidentally finding a video of you and your boyfriend haechan doing some very sexual things, jisung knows that he shouldn’t watch it. he knows that it would be an extreme invasion of privacy, but he’s unable to control himself when he sees the thumbnail. so he settles for only watching 30 seconds. except, 30 seconds turns into 30 minutes, and by then he’s buried himself too deep into a life-changing situation—or in which jisung’s terrible at keeping secrets.

wored count: 19.8k of pure filfth (what the fuck is wrong with me)

author’s note: this is a repost of an oldie but goldie, i think. i hope. feedback is appreciated!

Fuck.

Jisung knows that there’s a plethora and a half reasons why this is a terrible idea. For one, it’s an invasion of privacy. The thumbnail is explicit, leaving zero room for ignorance—the bare, nearly naked sight of you and Haechan blankets over the screen, and if that isn’t enough to tell him that this isn’t something he was supposed to see, then the rather intimate position you and your boyfriend are in is quite the message.

He didn’t mean to find it. He wasn’t searching, wasn’t looking—not for this video in particular anyways. He was simply going through the camera roll in search of something else, and happened to stumble across what is so obviously you and Haechan’s sextape. If he had known that there was inappropriate things on there, Jisung would have asked for permission before he went on Haechan’s laptop. Yet the shocking discovery has him filled to the brim with curiosity, despite him knowing it would be wrong.

Thirty seconds. I can watch thirty seconds, then cut it off, he thinks. What’s thirty seconds out of a minutes-long video? You and Haechan can go for hours, the sounds you make whenever you stay the night at the dorm keep Jisung up long enough to know that. A part of him doesn’t mind since you sound so sweet, and he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to take Haechan’s place, to have you crying his name. No, he shakes his head. He doesn’t need to think like that. It’s bad enough that he’s watching this video. So he looks around the room a couple times, even though no one’s home except Renjun, and he’s asleep. Then he reluctantly presses play, turning up the volume a couple notches. He’d never miss the opportunity to hear you.

The tape starts off quick, you already sitting on your knees between your boyfriend’s legs as you took him in your mouth. Haechan pointed the camera in a way that gives Jisung a near-perfect image of what it would be like to have you sucking him off, with your lips wrapped perfectly around his cock and your eyes so round as you gazed up at him innocently. If you looked at him like that, Jisung would probably cum on the spot.

“Gonna show the camera what a whore you are for me?” Haechan said, out of Jisung’s vision for the most part and he prefers it that way. He’d feel too guilty looking at his friend’s face, and of course he’ll feel even more guilty looking at yours, but he’ll suppress those feelings until he inevitably sees you in person.

Then-you nodded a little in response, looking so desperate and eager to please. If only you knew Jisung would be watching this, would you have still agreed to filming yourself so explicitly? He doubts that you would’ve, it isn’t like your relationship has ever been anything other than platonic. He’s nothing more than the best friend of the man you’re dating, of course you only see him as a friend, too. Nothing more.

“Then get to work, baby.”

It took nothing more for you to comply, sucking your boyfriend’s dick in your mouth while your tongue swirled alive. Your hand wrapped around him too, grip not too heavy, yet not too loose either. It’s no surprise to Jisung, but you look amazing with a cock stuffed between your lips and he imagines it’s him instead. You’d probably feel just as good as you look. Honestly, Jisung’s never had anything other than his own hands around his dick, and you look so skilled that he knows you’d be promising.

Even if he couldn’t see, he can hear. Haechan’s a moaner - quite a loud one - and he’s making it obvious you’re doing a great job with how utterly verbal he is. All the moans and praises spilling from between his lips had you soaking and motivated you to work harder.

By the time Jisung thinks to check the timestamp, he’s already more than thirty seconds in. This sends him into mini-panic, but he slowly decides it wouldn’t hurt to watch a little more. So he does, in too deep to stop.

02:05, you looked up at Haechan with a gaze that gets Jisung hard. 06:48, you were gagging because Haechan had gotten a little rough on you, tugging at your hair and using his hands to control you, facefucking you. 07:12, 10:22, 12:57, by the time Jisung’s thirteen minutes in, Haechan’s patience had dissipated and he’d thrown you onto the bed, claiming he wanted to cum in you—not your mouth. Then Jisung has this thought of what it would be like to cum inside you, and wonders if one day you’d ever let him. He knows that you wouldn’t, but it’s still a fun fantasy.

Jisung finds himself enjoying this new angle better. Your whole body is on display, thanks to Haechan taking off your undergarments as well as the remaining portions of his own clothes. He had you on all fours, waiting impatiently for him as he teased your slit from behind you, gliding his cock over it while being careful not to slide in. The moment you whined, Jisung pulls his own dick out, not entirely, but enough to where his fingers can touch him in place of yours.

“So needy,” Haechan cooed, brushing his cock against your wetness, “you’re so wet. All for me, right? Tell me who got you this wet.”

“You,” you muttered.

Haechan drew back, sounding a desperate whimper from you, “Speak up, baby. Can’t hear you.”

“You!” you said it louder, adding something extra you knew your boyfriend would like enough to quit his teasing and finally slide in, “you, Hyuck, only you. Want you s-so bad.”

Just like that, Haechan gave back in, finally slipping himself in and stretching you far and wide. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, gripping your waist and rocking against your hips.

At the same time, Jisung strokes himself, watching the way you let your boyfriend toy with you, how needily you take everything he gives you. He thinks you look beautiful, your back in a pretty arch, your thighs and breast shaking as your body lurches forward at the impact of Haechan’s thrusts, your face—god, do you look gorgeous when you moan. Maybe there is a privilege in being a viewer. Haechan couldn’t, though Jisung can see your face perfectly.

“Harder,” you begged, your voice practically muffled as you whimpered into the pillows and mattress, yet he still heard you, “harder, Hyuck, please, please, please?”

“Baby want’s it harder?” He chuckled. “You’ve been so good for me, so I’ll give you everything my sweet girl wants.”

Watching Haechan touch you in all the places Jisung oh so desperately wishes he was, he feels like he’s going insane. You’re so incredibly fucked out, so out of it that the pleasure has practically locked you inside of a trance. Knowing you’re a sucker for contact, your boyfriend toyed with your body a little more, rubbing your clit to heighten the feeling, slowly yet steadily climbing his hands up your skin until they’re brushing your chest. Jisung moans when you do, unable to shake his urge to be inside you. Just one time, he begs to no one in particular, one time, and he’ll be able to happily move on with his life.

It feels like with every moment that passes, he’s closer to the edge. He’s blocked out everything else in the world, hyper-focused on your body and face. Your mouth agape, the pretty sounds that tumbled loose every time your boyfriend hit the spot, how caught up in the pleasure you were. If you gave him a chance, he thinks he could make you feel good, too. Sure, all the experience he has is with the palm of his hand, and he’s no where near as experienced as your boyfriend, but with a little guidance, he thinks he’d make you crack.

Though right now, he’s about to crack.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jisung’s been here plenty enough times before to know that’s he’s almost there—not necessarily watching you like this, but on those occasions when you stay over and go at it with Haechan during the dead nights where you think no one is awake, where he’s secretly hearing you and shutting his eyes, imagining a twisted fantasy of you and him. He even sometimes does it when you’re not there, getting off to the memory of your pretty lips or gentle fingers, both around his cock. Up until now, it worried him that the thought of fucking your mouth kept crawling stealthily back inside his brain. You’re so gorgeous, so cute and loving. Though upon seeing you beg for Haechan to be rougher with you, witnessing secondhand how you took your boyfriend’s length despite him forcing it down your throat, he thinks you can handle it.

Fuuuuucck. Jisung bites at his bottom lip as he cums, shutting his eyes as the pressure breaks through his body. It’s so intense, taking everything in him not to make noise as his cum shoots into his pants.

When he’s done, it takes him a couple seconds to blink back in. Then the realization of what he’s done hits, following with the guilt and shame of his actions. He always feels bad after he cums to you, but this was different. This time, he had done something inexcusable, and he can’t help but wonder about how you’d feel if you found out. Would you think he’s a creep? Could you ever look at him the same again? Jisung doesn’t think he can live with that, so he quickly exits the tab and discards all evidence of his activity, shutting the laptop and buttoning back up his pants. He’ll definitely need to wash those himself.

Swiftly, he swoops the laptop up, and walks into the hall to put it back. The video he was originally looking for is long-forgotten, and he spent over half an hour watching you and Haechan. Jisung’s a terrible liar. If Haechan comes back before he can put his laptop back, he’s toast.

“Why do you have Haechan’s MacBook?”

Jisung freezes. Fuck, he forget about Renjun.

“I don’t,” he winces, realizing that’s a boldfaced lie. He has puppy stickers on his MacBook. Unmistakable puppy stickers, all your doing. “Okay, so maybe I do—”

Renjun glares.

“Fine, I totally do! But I wasn’t doing anything, I was just trying to find that video of Jeno and Haechan from the beach!” Jisung defends himself like he’s being accused of murder, “You know Haechan keeps everything on his laptop!”

Renjun nods his head. Valid. He’s still skeptical, but he doesn’t care enough to further interrogate the younger, so he just shrugs and walks into the living room. Jisung sighs in relief. He’s gotten away with it for now. Now he just needs to put the laptop back in Haechan’s room and pretend that what happened never actually happened.

Jisung’s been acting weird lately.

No scooting next to you on the couch and lying his head in your lap. No asking you how your day has been. No shyly waving at you whenever you first walk through the dorm door. No awkward hello’s (hell, he’s hardly even speaking to you.)

Even when you try and speak to him, his answers are plain and simple.

How’s your day? Fine.

Did you guys have a good practice? It was nice.

Have you been thinking about trying any new hair colors? Not really.

You don’t think he’s even looking at you. And Jisung’s really not that shy as you originally thought him out to be, after he got to know you a little, he was holding eye contact with you during conversations just fine. He’s a confident speaker even. But you try not to overthink things and try to get used to the emptiness without his normal self, chalking it up to him having a bad week or something. It’s normal, everyone has those.

Mission unsuccessful. You are the queen of overthinking. In fact, you are literally the walking definition of overthinking. If someone Googled the meaning of overthink, your name would probably pop up next to it.

So you turn to your all-time favorite therapist, AKA your boyfriend.

“Is it just me, or has Jisung been acting different lately?”

You’re at the dorms, in the middle of folding laundry. Haechan stands near you, doing absolutely nothing. Normally the guys would absolutely never let you do their laundry, and it’s Haechan’s turn this week, but you offered and somewhat aggressively insisted on folding, so he let you. He knows that you willingly do chores when there’s something on your mind and you’re trying to get it off but you can’t, so he was aware there was only a matter of time before you asked him some ridiculous question.

Your boyfriend blinks, not expecting the question, but if he’s caught off-guard then he conceals it quickly. “Just you, babe.”

You frown, “Think about it. He’s been acting so weird.”

“Jisung’s always weird,” Haechan laughs, “I haven’t noticed anything. He seems the same to me. Why are you so worried about him anyways?”

“Because he’s being weird, Haechan, I’m telling you. He doesn’t wave at or greet me anymore, doesn’t sit next to me during movies, and he won’t even talk to me anymore! I asked him if there was any hair colors he wanted to try and he said not really. He always has a list of hell no’s and shit that’s on his bucket list. This isn’t normal, Hyuck,” you ramble, halting in the middle of folding some Adidas sweatshirt.

Haechan pauses, rewinding a little and realizing that you may have a point. A small point, but a point nonetheless. “Well now that you mentioned it, I don’t remember having to hyper watch him during movie nights.”

“Exactly, because he doesn’t lay in my lap!”

“Thank God, maybe he’s finally learning boundaries,” Haechan says, relieved if that’s the case. Jisung’s never been particularly touchy with you, but he does use you like a human pillow during movie nights. Not that you mine, but your slightly possessive boyfriend does. “I was gonna kill him if he kept that shit up any longer.”

“Babe,” you whine, “seriously.”

“Oh, I am being serious. But I’ll ask the guys if they’ve noticed anything,” and as if perfectly on-cue, Renjun walks into the living room, “Yo Renjun, you think Jisung’s been acting weird lately?”

Renjun shrugs. “Nope, why?”

“Cause y/n thinks he is, and she’s like super worried. Been tryna tell her it’s probably nothing, but you know how she is—”

“Hey!”

Renjun pauses for a couple seconds, brows furrowed as he tries his hardest to think. And then it dawns on him. “Wait, the other day I did see him leave his room with your MacBook.”

Haechan furrows his eyebrows. “My MacBook?”

“Yeah, it had puppy stickers on the cover. I asked him why he had it, and he did a whole defensive rant talking about how he was simply, and I quote, ‘just trying to find that video of Jeno and Haechan from the beach’. I hope he never gets interrogated for something serious,” Renjun says coolly.

MacBook. Video. Haechan’s MacBook. Video. Oh god, this cannot be what you think it is. Yet as you gaze at your boyfriend, you can tell he’s thinking the exact same thing as you.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he groans. “When was this?”

“Like four days ago, why?” Renjun questions, utterly confused.

The time lines up, that’s when he started acting distant with you. He definitely saw something he wasn’t supposed to.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, tugging your boyfriend’s hair.

The ultimate stress reliever, head from your boyfriend. You’re not even exaggerating, the man eats pussy like his life depends on every lap. In this case particularly however, you’re ninety-nine percent sure he’s more so trying to shut you up by distracting you with something that’ll make you whimper in pleasure instead of distress, and you refuse to go down without a challenge. It is, needless to say, a challenge, especially with how the way that he makes you see stars clouds your mind, but you won’t succumb yet.

“Feel good?” Haechan parts for a split second to speak, then dips right back in unhesitatingly. He really doesn’t have to ask, but you know he only is because he wants to hear it from you, as though your moans aren’t telling enough.

“Yes, f-fuck,” you moan, unable to numb yourself to the pleasure. You wouldn’t even if you could, though it would be useful for you to convey your thoughts right now—the ones that keep slipping away the more he works between your thighs, yet you’re clutching onto them desperately. “But babe, gosh, what about Jisung—”

Haechan draws back, resulting in a whine to sound from you. “Baby, tell me you’re not talking about another man while I’m eating you out.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” you bemoan, “I mean, I could, but I don’t want to. I’m worried about him, you know, like what if he’s traumatized. And what if he never looks at me the same again, he’s never gonna—oh.”

Haechan cuts you off mid-rant by stuffing his fingers inside you, catching you a little off-guard since you hadn’t suspected his actions, or even take notice of how he moved from between your thighs, positioning himself behind you with your back to his chest. “Do you want him to forget?”

His question seems to catch you off-guard a little more. “Huh?”

“Do you want Jisung to forget what he saw?” He repeats. “He saw you naked, baby. He saw you sucking me off, maybe even you getting fucked into this mattress if he’s that nosy. Do you want him to forget that he saw you like that, or do you want him to remember? To get curious?”

If you’re bring frank, the thought has crossed your mind at one point. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself (because you already have a man, how dare you want another?) but a part of you craves Jisung. You think it has for a while, you’re just now coming to terms with it. That doesn’t mean that you don’t want Haechan—you do want him, you love him and you’ll never stop—though you can’t help but want Jisung a little, too.

“I… I don’t know,” you lie, afraid of choosing the wrong answer. How would Haechan take that you want to fuck another guy? And how could you unabashedly admit that to him?

“Stop being complicated, I know that you know,” he pulls away his fingers, as though to punish you for lying, “do you wanna fuck him or not, y/n?”

As expected, you whine once more for the umpteenth time this hour. You’re thinking about answering honestly if it means that he’ll stop denying you pleasure. “Why are you asking me this when you said you’d kill him if he kept lying on my lap!”

“I know what I said, and it has nothing to do with my question. Now if you wanna cum, tell me the truth,” your boyfriend whispers, silk voice giving you goosebumps, “if it helps, I know Jisung and I’m like a hundred-percent sure that he is absolutely anything but traumatized. The horny bastard probably got off to it if anything, and now he’s all embarrassed and worried about you finding out. That’s why he’s avoiding you.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “And not you?”

“I’m assuming it’s because you’re the one he wants to fuck,” Haechan shrugs, “since he’s usually all over you instead of me.”

Well fuck. You hate this. You hate it because if Jisung wants you just as bad as you want him, then something could really happen, and worst of all, Haechan’s okay with that. That’s probably all the reasons you need to love this, but you can’t shake the feeling that something about this is wrong, even if you want it. It’s the same feeling that’s prevented you from accepting how you feel, all of the shame and the guilt inside you. But fuck, are you willing to ignore it. Your moral compass is malfunctioning. You’re malfunctioning, probably. There’s no reason you’re turned on thinking about all the ways you could have both of them, and you can’t say the fantasies aren’t fun. You can’t say that you don’t want to take a chance at living them out. And even though technically, you can, that would most definitely be lying. You’re a woman of truth, and nothing but.

So you decide to tell him the truth.

“I… want him to remember,” you admit, your voice low but audible.

“Course you do,” Haechan crams a pair of his fingers back inside you, prompting a fairly loud gasp from between your lips in response, “you’re such a cock-hungry fucking slut, you’ll never be satisfied with just one, hm?”

“N-no, not a—fuck—slut,” even though you deny it, Haechan feels the way you clench around his fingers when he degrades you. He even felt the way you clenched around them when he described all the ways Jisung’s potentially seen you, and from that moment forward, he knew exactly what you wanted.

“Yes, you are, baby,” he disagrees, observing how you moan for him so needily. He thinks about how Jisung felt the moment he saw you like this in that video, so gone and pathetic. Then he remembers Jisung’s horniness is through the roof, and he was definitely turned on. “Such a slut. My greedy slut. Tell me you’re my slut.”

“I-I’m your slut, Hyuck,” you whisper, too caught up in bliss to speak an octave louder without forcing yourself.

Haechan slaps your thigh, and you moan consequently, “Louder.”

“I’m your slut!” you cry, louder than intended, yet your volume pleases him.

Satisfied, he smirks a little to himself. “Good girl. You wanna cum?”

“God, yes,” you’re nodding your head almost violently, “please?”

“Go ahead, baby. Let go for me.”

You’re in a daze-like state, feeling almost lightheaded as you clutch your boyfriend’s thighs for leverage. It’s either extremely early in the morning or extremely late at night and you’re at the dorms again, so you dig your teeth into your lips to try and conceal your moans as you cum, almost too out of it to even do that. Though as many times as you’ve been in this situation, biting back moans until your lips are bleeding, you like to think that you’ve perfected the silent skill.

The moment you come down from your high you lie your head against your boyfriend’s chest, and he whispers into your ear all these sweet praises, telling you how good you are for him. Everything is typical, with him holding you tight and close.

“Now, I want you to hear something,” Haechan says, throwing you off a little.

“Hear what?” You ask, nothing but confused.

“Shh,” he whispers, “listen carefully.”

Allowing your curiosity to get the best of you, your lips press together in absolute silence, and you’re even holding in your breath so that it won’t distract you too much. It takes a couple of seconds, but your ears begin to pick up on the faint sounds of groans coming from the wall that separates Haechan and Jisung’s rooms, which could only mean one thing.

He’s jerking off… to you?

Fuck, why does that turn you on? You wish that you were right there next to him, so that you could perfectly hear how deep his voice is when he grunts like that. Better yet, you wish that you were touching him yourself, so that you could see how his face looks when you make him cum. It isn’t fair. He’s seen you naked, while you’re left with not much more than your imagination.

“Haechan…” you whisper speechlessly.

“I know,” he whispers back. “He’s been doing this every night we fuck when you stay over. I know you’re always too fucked out to hear anything, though.”

Oh, god. The walls are severely thin here, you can only imagine all the noises he’s heard you make over the nights. All the times he’s came, and no wonder you hear him insisting on washing his own laundry. The guys already tease him, saying that it’s because he’s always jacking off, but you’re the sole one that never would’ve thought he was truly this horny—that he’d jack off to you.

“What do we do?” You ask, although your head isn’t exactly blank. It’s just that everything you’re thinking, you’re not sure your boyfriend would approve of.

“Confront him,” Haechan replies, like the answers obvious, and the moment you stare back at him in shock and appalled, he adds, “I’m not mad at you or against it, baby. If you wanna fuck him, then you can once on the condition that I have to be there. I’m sure that horny fuck wouldn’t care.”

You don’t believe your ears. “Really?”

“Yes,” he begins to yawn a little, “but tomorrow. For now let’s go to bed.”

The two of you lie down, and you go to sleep imagining all the possibilities of what could happen within the next twenty-four hours, snuggled up in your boyfriend’s arms.

The following day, you and Haechan plan out the confrontation quietly in his bedroom. Since the walls are thinner than you thought, most of your conversation is in hushed whispers and low tone.

Just thinking about it has you excited. If everything goes according to plan—essentially meaning if Jisung doesn’t shy off despite your boyfriend’s insistence on watching instead of participating—then you’ll have him wrapped around your finger, right where you want him. You just hope that he won’t freak out too much.

“You got it?” Haechan whispers once he finishes explaining the rundown of the plan.

It’s nothing like some elaborate scheme, or intricately-detailed ploy. There isn’t much to it but patience and faith in the slight steps to play out in your favor, although the ratio of your amount of the two things is dramatic.

“Yeah,” you reply a little too fast, a little too enthusiastically, “can’t wait.”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” he taunts, “you don’t have a choice. But I’ll get the rest of the guys out of here by two, and then you’ll have Virgin Mary all to yourself. He just won’t have you to himself.”

You make a confused face, “What’s with the emphasis on him being a horny virgin?”

“You don’t get why I want to watch, do you?” Haechan asks, and you shake your head. You’ve been tempted to ask, but you’ve already come to terms with the fact that your boyfriend sometimes works in mysterious ways far beyond your comprehension level. “Baby, I doubt Jisung’s gonna know what to do with you. He’s gonna need a couple of pointers plus a push in the right direction. And who knows your body and how to fuck you better than to me?”

No one. Not a single soul. You find it a little embarrassing, but not even you. Haechan didn’t take your virginity, but the first time sure felt like he had—he had reached places you didn’t know were there, let alone reachable, and he made sex seem like something totally new. No one has quite pleased you the way your boyfriend has.

“So you’re going to… teach him?” Is the conclusion you make when you put the pieces together, and Haechan nods.

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

That is what you want to call it.

Time passes rather slowly. Every hour feels twice as long, and you feel as though you’re going to die any moment now. The second you hear the sound of the guys piling outside the dorm, there’s a burst of excitement in you, making your stomach turn and swarm with butterflies. (It’s killed briefly when Jaemin rushes back inside, claiming he forgot his phone, but once they drive away you’re filled with bliss once more.)

Jisung steps outside his room, “Where’s everyone going?”

“Away,” Haechan replies vaguely as you two walk back down the hall.

“So it’s just us three?”

“Yep,” you and your boyfriend answer in unison.

Jisung looks absolutely petrified, though not wanting to appear suspicious (he’s kind of late, but it’s the effort that counts) his face soothes soon after. “Cool.” To him, it is anything but cool.

“Cool,” you repeat, “so you wanna watch a movie with us in Haechan’s room?”

“I don’t think I should—”

“Please?” Your eyes are begging him, pleading at him, and for safe measure, you add, “I miss you Sungie, it feels like it’s been forever.”

Truthfully, it hasn’t been anywhere near that long. Though Jisung knows that he’s been extremely distant with you—probably why you feel kicked away—and he feels terrible. Plus, it’s impossible to say no to you, especially when you give him that look, gazing at him like a sad puppy.

He gives in, “Okay.”

“Yay!” You clap your hands together. You clutch Jisung’s fist and begin to drag him down the hallway, “Babe go make popcorn!”

Some moments later, everyone’s settled down. The three of you sitting on Haechan’s bed, with you squeezed in the middle like the cream of an oreo. You rest your head on Jisung’s shoulder and he tenses a little at first, though eventually relaxs.

Everything’s going great and according to plan. Jisung looks calm, laughing the movie and being as naturally clingy as he usually is during movie nights. You and Haechan glance at one another occasionally, silently deciding on the perfect moment to strike and telepathically agreeing that that moment is now.

Haechan pauses Netflix, making Jisung whine in complaint. “Why’d you do that? It was getting suspenseful.”

“You’re getting a little comfortable, don’t you think?” Haechan tilts his head.

It takes Jisung a couple of seconds to realize what Haechan’s talking about, but once he does, he quickly separates his hands away from you and scoots over to put a little distance between the two of you.

His face burns like fire. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re a repeat offender, Jisung, sorry isn’t gonna cut it this time,” and before Jisung can apologize again, Haechan adds, “plus, I have another question for you.”

“What is it?” Jisung swallows sharply.

“When you watched that video, did you cum?” It’s you that asks the question this time, much to Jisung’s surprise. He’s chewing hard on his lip, nervousness spelt out across his face.

Still, he plays dumb, holding onto the slim piece of remaining hope he has to consider that maybe this is a joke, that you aren’t serious and don’t actually know he’s seen the video. “W-what video?” Even his own voice betrays him, and Jisung knows from this moment that he’s screwed. Terribly fucking screwed.

“I’m sure you know it very well. The one where she’s giving me head and I’m fucking her into this mattress, remember?” Haechan inquires, a smirk blooming onto his lips as he watches Jisung break.

He’s done, he thinks. You probably hate him. You’re probably disgusted with him, repulsed by him, and appalled that his prying eyes saw you in such a sexual context. He doesn’t look at you, afraid of what he might see, holding his head down low in shame as he’s unable to lie to you anymore. “Sorry. I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I didn’t, I wasn’t trying—I didn’t mean to, I just… I was just trying to find—”

“That video of me and Jeno from the beach, yes, Renjun told us. But you found something you liked better and just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Something about humiliating Jisung, toying with him a little simply to see how he reacts is fun to Haechan. All of his reactions, needless to say, are amusing; shuffling in his spot; fidgeting with his hands; swallowing and gulping hard; biting his bottom lip; and his eyes widening in panic as his cheeks sting with embarrassment.

You add, “We heard you last night, too. Do you always listen in on us like that?”

Jisung whimpers, “Y/n…”

“Answer my question, Sungie,” you lean into his ear, “do you always listen in on us like that?”

Whenever he’s awake, he definitely does. Jisung isn’t oblivious to the fact that if he can overhear Haechan’s room, then you guys can certainly overhear him in his room, but he thought he was quiet enough to get away with it. You have to give him credit, if Haechan would’ve never pointed it out you probably would have never noticed.

“Y-yes,” he admits in a low murmur, head still hanging low, “I’m sorry, you just sound so pretty when you… make noises, and it wakes me up. But sometimes I stay up and wait because I know you’ll start soon. Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad? You don’t get it, do you?” You move to straddle his lap, gripping his chin to force eye contact with him. He appears taken aback by your actions, but doesn’t fight them. “If I was mad, we wouldn’t be doing this, Jisung. I’m here because I want you, and you want me, right?”

Jisung’s Adam’s apple bobs as silence prevails over his voice.

“Answer her,” Haechan commands. “Do you want her?”

Jisung chokes out, “Yes.”

Shaking your head in dissatisfaction, you instruct, “Say it. Tell me what you want. Do I have to walk you through it like an ameteur?”

Jisung instantly shakes his head. He’s not a baby, he can do this. “You,” he finds the courage to say, fighting the urge to cower, “I want you.”

“Good boy,” you purr, “but you didn’t answer my first question, so I have some more for you.”

Trying his hardest to conceal how evidently the pet name fazes him while simultaneously bracing himself for the severity of your question, he asks coolly, “What are they?”

You lean back into his ear, but with you in his lap and his hands holding your waist this time, it feels so much different. “Do you moan for me when you cum?” Your voice tickles his neck, but he thinks he that likes it, “do you say my name?”

Fuck. Jisung could get hard at the memory, recalling all the times he’s came to you, moaning your name quietly to himself as he imagines you’re around his cock—your hands, your pussy, your mouth, anything. He’ll take anything as long as it’s from you. The only time he doesn’t moan your name is when he has to be silent, like when he was watching that video of you, in spite of how badly he wanted to call out for you right then and pray that you would somehow answer.

“Yes, fuck,” slowly, all of his shame and dignity is dissipating, “I imagine it’s you,” he mutters.

That gets you going as well. Jisung fucking his hand to the thought of you, pretending that it’s you, and moaning your name as he cums is a sight you’d pay to see. You’re pretty sure he’d send you a video for free though.

Deciding this needs to escalate quicker than it is, Haechan instructs, “Touch her, Jisung.”

“T-touch her?” Jisung repeats back, incredulous that this is the same Haechan who shoots him knife sharp glares whenever he so much as accidentally brushes his fingers against yours during movie nights. “Are you sure?”

“You think I’d ask you to touch my girlfriend if I wasn’t sure?” Haechan deadpans. “Honestly, you’re asking the wrong person.”

So Jisung shifts his focus back to you, and you eye him with these lustful eyes that tell him, scream at him that you want him. It’s so much like a fantasy that he’s half-tempted to pinch himself to test if he’s dreaming or if this is just a wet dream come true. “Can I touch you?” Jisung asks. His eyes are a little wide still, but he sounds so much more confident.

“Please,” you answer, and that’s all it takes for his hands to roam your body.

Jisung’s fingers move gracefully yet like the wild, untamable waver of a flame. As his fingers pull your top above your head, you can’t help but gaze at his fingers, long and bony. Fuck, you can only imagine the places they could reach, and you’re not too proud to say you’ve thought about it on more than one occasion. Because of your willingness to push it away though, the thought hasn’t ever bloomed into a full-on fantasy. Not until now, of course. This time however, you’re finding it perfectly acceptable to wonder.

He struggles to unclasp your bra though, earning a chorus of laughs from you and your boyfriend. But upon seeing Jisung’s flushed face, you try and teach him, with Haechan helping do a perfect demonstration.

Once Jisung thinks he has the hang of it, he says, “Put it back on.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “For what?”

“I want to see if I can do it,” he replies, making you and your boyfriend both scoff. But you indeed put the bra back on, and he successfully takes it off with a dramatic decrease in effort.

You nod in approval, “Good job.”

Jisung realizes he loves being praised by you. And in that same moment, he realizes that there isn’t much he won’t do to satisfy you so that he can hear you praise him some more.

He sucks your nipple into his mouth, fingers fiddling with your other one so that it wouldn’t be neglected. When Haechan talked down on Jisung for being a virgin, it made you think that you would have to teach him everything. But it seems like he’s done his research, because he knows a thing or two. That or he’s just naturally good.

“Shit,” you gasp, “Feels so good, Sungie.”

The look on your face tells him everything. You’re genuinely enjoying this, lips parted as you continue to moan little by little. If Jisung wasn’t hard before, he definitely is now. Something about your moans is severely intoxicating, and being able to hear them, seeing how you look when you moan in person is just on another level that the computer screen doesn’t compare to. It simply doesn’t do you justice.

You’re quickly becoming very needy and impatient. Jisung can feel Haechan’s eyes biting into his skin, silently waiting for the right moment to open his mouth, so Jisung decides not to make any advances on his own in dread of setting your boyfriend off. You on the other hand need him to pick up the pace, so you make the advance for him, picking up him free hand by the wrist and sticking it down your shorts. “Touch me,” you beg him with your mouth and eyes, “Please.”

He looks at Haechan, but surprisingly he’s nodding, urging him on. So Jisung complies, fighting the pitter-patter of his heart against his chest as he rubs you through your panties. You’re wet, he knows that much. Really fucking wet. It turns him on to think that he’s the root of it all, the reason why you’re soaking your underwear, especially because he’s wanted to touch you there for so long. He wonders how long it’ll be before he gets to touch you directly, without some flimsy fabric in the way of all the good stuff.

Lust blinding the two of you results in things to escalate somewhat quickly. It started with Jisung rubbing you through your panties, then you begging him for skin on skin contact, and then a complete change of positions after he hungrily takes off your shorts, finger fucking you as you eventually asked with your back flat against the mattress.

“Pay attention to the angle,” Haechan advises. “You can’t just shove your fingers in her and hope for the best. And don’t let having longer fingers get to your head, it’s pointless if you don’t know how to use them. Same with your dick.”

“I know that,” Jisung hisses. “Just because I’m new to this doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

“Just being careful, Ji. You’d be surprised how many people don’t know that. If you’re gonna fuck my girlfriend, I gotta at least make sure you’re doing it right,” you’re almost completely tuned out of the conversation, only picking up on bits of pieces as you’re too concentrated on the way Jisung’s fingers plunge in and out of you, coated in your arousal. “And pay attention to her body, it’ll tell you everything you need to know. See what makes her moan, squirm, beg—all that good stuff—and what doesn’t.”

If Haechan has you muffling screams when you fuck every other night, then Jisung’s sure he knows what he’s talking about, so he silently takes his advice. You seem to be enjoying this, and he wonders how he can take it further, how he can find out where you’re sensitive.

He decides to explore, not exactly letting his fingers run wild but experimenting here and there until he finds the spot. And when you cry out a little suddenly, he’s sure he’s found it. “Fuck,” you cry out in bliss, “Right there, Jisung, god.”

His fingers continue to hit you there, and he tries to burn the spot into his memory. It’s uncertain if he’ll ever get this opportunity again—and that’s when he realizes he should make sure this experience is as pleasurable as possible, just in case this is a once in a lifetime thing—but he wants to remember for safe measure.

For some reason, Jisung has the urge to look at Haechan again, so he does, and sees the man mouthing the words, Pull out.

Jisung is utterly confused. He mouths back, Why?

Just do it, Haechan says.

It takes Jisung a little. He’s reluctant. After all, one look at your face tells him that you’re all blissed out, and he thinks you’re pretty close. So why would he pull his fingers away? The point is to please you, isn’t it? Though not wanting to mess up, he hesitantly does as told.

“Jisung,” you whine when you’re suddenly empty, and Jisung hates it. He wants you to say his name in pleasure, in satisfaction, not like this.

“Haechan told me to!” He defends himself quickly.

“I did,” Haechan unabashedly confirms. “Don’t let her cum yet, making her wait is part of the fun and makes her want you more. Just get her wet enough so that you can fuck her good.”

“I did,” Haechan unabashedly confirms. “Don’t let her cum yet, making her wait is part of the fun and makes her want you more. Just get her wet enough so that you can fuck her good.”

Figuring that you’re wet enough, he turns to look at you. “Can I… can I fuck you?”

“Yes,” you’re literally about to beg, you’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like an eternity, “please do, I can’t wait anymore. Need you so bad, Sungie.”

Jisung feels like he’s out of his mind. A part of him still refuses to believe that this is real, that this is actually happening. That instead of being mad at him for invading your privacy, you’re here begging for him to fuck you. He’s not sure what’s more surprising, the fact that you want to fuck him or the fact that Haechan is allowing this to happen, even telling him what to do to please you. You’re begging for him. You’re spreading your legs for him. You’re wet—all for him. It crosses his mind that maybe this isn’t a good idea, but with those three things considered, he can’t bring himself to care anymore. Haechan doesn’t care that he’s fucking his girlfriend, you don’t even care that he’s fucking you, so why should he?

Jisung drops his pants and lets his boxers hit the ground. There’s nothing holding him back anymore, not when he sees you gawking at him (unlike Haechan, he leans more to the lengthy side rather than girthy, though as long as he follows Haechan’s instructions you’re sure you’ll both be fine). It gives him a little ego boost.

“Condom?” He asks.

“You don’t have to use one,” you say, nearly making Jisung’s jaw drop, “just hurry up, please.”

What comes over him as he slides into you is beyond him, but the process is effortless and he just skates in. “Fuck,” he grunts, needing time for himself before he can even move. He’s barely moved an inch, but he can tell the real thing is a billion times better than his palm.

“Start slow,” Haechan says. “You’ve made her want it, but most importantly, you have to make her need it. Make her beg for you to pick up the pace, and then go faster. Not too fast, but not too slow, either.”

Jisung complies, drawing it out a little. With the way you feel around him it’s difficult to resist moving around freely, but then he remembers what he was thinking about making this as pleasure as possible for the two of you and decides it’s worth the wait. Something tells him to grip your waist so he does, his fingers dipping around your hips, and in return you let your hands fly to the empty space on his back.

You’re crying out in pleasure, need, yearning—all of the above. You probably should have expected Haechan to descend his teasing ways onto Jisung. He’s ever so slowly stretching you out, not pushing his whole size into you, but gently wedging it inside bit by bit at an agonizingly slow pace. It’s useful preparation, but once most of his length is sliding in and out of you so leisurely, your patience has ran significantly thin.

“Faster, Jisung. Please,” there’s tears pricking your eyes, and he hasn’t even really done anything yet, “want—no, I need you to fuck me so much.”

“How much?” He asks, catching everyone in the room, including himself, off-guard a little bit, but he doesn’t back down.

“It fucking hurts,” nothing but desperacy fills your tone when you whimper. Luckily enough you’re used to this tormenting treatment from your boyfriend, so you have a couple tricks up your sleeve. “Don’t you want it too, Sungie? You said it yourself that you think about this. Don’t you wanna make your dreams come true?”

Jisung grunts and caves in, allowing himself to move a little faster. He’s honestly tired of torturing you and himself.

“I’m almost impressed,” Haechan begins, nearly startling Jisung as his presence for once almost goes forgotten. It feels a little unnerving to Jisung that he’s been watching so closely, but he refuses to let that get in the way of fucking you. “Keep it up. Talk to her. Definitely not too much to point where’s it gets annoying, but not too little to the point where it’s awkward. Make observations, compliment her, ask her shit like you just did.”

Jisung simply nods in understanding, not bothering to drop some bitter reply. He’s too focused on you, on how you look, on how you feel, and he wonders if he’ll ever have the opportunity to see how you taste. He’s never ate anyone out before, but he thinks that your pussy is so pretty that there’s a first time for everything.

Meanwhile, you’re lost in the realm that is pleasure, savoring the way his dick inches in and out of you, filling you to the brim, slipping out, then pushing back inward. It’s hard to believe Jisung’s winging this—he has to have really been paying attention because he’s so fucking good at this, tip so far kissing all the right places. You like the way he holds your hips, so firm and secure like you’re precious and he’s afraid of shattering you (even though you wouldn’t mind if he did.)

From beside you your boyfriend is groaning, and that’s when you think to shift your gaze in his direction, realizing he’s finally stripped his lower body. His dick is in his palm, tall and erect, and you’re impressed that he’s gone this long without touching himself—or most surprisingly you. As much as Haechan likes to talk down on Jisung for being horny, he can’t blame him because he’s the exact same. Worse, even, especially for you.

“Touch her,” even in this state, Haechan still has pointers to offer, “Anywhere she’s sensitive for extra stimulation. Rub her clit—if you know where it is. Or what it is. Do you even know what that is, Jisung?”

“Yes, I know what it is, Haechan,” As if to prove his point, Jisung drops his hand down to your cunt. If you thought the way his fingers accidentally brushed against you was amazing, you were no where near prepared for the feeling of them toying with your clit. “Right here.”

“Oh, g-god, Jisung,” you stammer out, rocking your hips onto his hand. “More, please. I want more,” he’s quick to obey, applying pleasure to your clit while his fingers softly kiss your cunt in the same motion. “Just like that!”

Some moments pass, all actions consistent though Jisung isn’t sure how much longer he can keep this up. He’s having this fuzzy, trance-like feeling, where everything seems like nothing greater than his imagination. The only reason he knows he’s not dreaming is because of the way you feel around him. It’s like pinching himself, except this is pleasurable. Your bare walls are warm, tight, and wet as ever around him, and he knew from the moment he slid in you that he wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight.

That video doesn’t compare to this. His fist doesn’t compare to this. He can’t describe it, not with one-hundred percent accuracy, because absolutely no other feeling in the world compares to this. You look so fucked out beneath him, bliss spelt out across your face, and he’s proud that he’s the reason why. He had always known that he could do this with a little help, that he was fully capable of satisfying you. He just never thought that he’d ever be given the chance.

“Shit, y/n. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he moans, the deepness of his voice driving you closer to the edge. You’ve always found it hot, but it’s more extreme with his dick inside you.

Close, I’m close,” you moan, feeling the tightening in your stomach, “are you gonna cum?”

“Shit, y-yeah. Gonna cum. Can I—”

Picking up on what he’s asking before he even has to chance to state it himself, you say, responding a little over-eagerly, “Yes, fuck, cum in me. Please don’t pull out.”

You’re seeing stars, you swear. Bright white twinkling ones that cloud your vision as you cum, digging your nails into Jisung’s back. It helps that he’s rubbing you in your most sensitive area, fucking you so perfectly, and that Haechan’s sweet moans are audible beside you. You aren’t sure who cums first between the three of you, but you do know his cum is leaking from your cunt after his hips stutter to a stop, and he can’t help but fill you with a load of white.

It takes you a long while to collect your breath. But afterwards your boyfriend swoops you into his arms, placing you in his care once the deed is done. “Last pointer,” he says, “always check up on the person you’re fucking. Good aftercare is extremely important after sex.”

“Are you okay?” Jisung asks, and you find it cute how his eyes look so filled with concern.

“Seriously never been better,” you manage to respond through heavy breaths. “Haechan, can you join us next time?”

Haechan looks repulsed by the idea. “Who said there was going to be a next time?” This saddens you considerably, and Jisung too, but he does a better job at concealing it. “You did good, Jisung. Hope you find your own person to use your new skills on. C’mon babe, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You follow your boyfriend into the bathroom, and Jisung sees himself out. At least he has new material to jack off to, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t feel you again. You’re just too good to give away, so he understands why Haechan is so determined to keep you to himself.

But fuck, you’re too sweet to let go of.

“Ever heard the phrase sex is a remedy?”

“No.”

“That’s because I just made it up,” Haechan grins, and you roll your eyes consequently.

It proves true in some circumstances, you’ll give him that. Prime example: Jisung. Ever since that day, things between you have cooled. He started sitting next to you during movie nights again, even going as far putting his head in your lap (much to Haechan’s annoyance), actually talks to you, and looks at you (maybe a little too much.)

Yet surprisingly, he doesn’t seem that bashful anymore. It isn’t like he’s ever been the type to shy away, though this is next-level. No more shy waves or meek hello’s. No more weak eye contact. No more hesitance in touching you, despite him potentially being able to piss your boyfriend off. He’s so relaxed, so calm and so certain of his actions, and you kind of like it. There’s a chance the sex got to his head a little, but perhaps it was a push in the right direction and plus, you find confidence very sexy.

But you push these thoughts away as fast as they come. Whatever you had with Jisung is done, it can’t happen again. You all had your fun, now it’s time to let it go.

You pout, “Why are you leaving me alone for so long? I’m gonna miss you.”

Haechan’s going out with some of the guys to handle what he titles manly affairs. If you didn’t know any better you’d say that probably translates to I’m going somewhere to play video games, but you saw Jeno in his gym shorts. They’re definitely about to go hit the gym.

“Relax, I’m going to be back in a couple of hours and you aren’t alone—Renjun and Jisung will still be here to keep you company. Speaking of which, Renjun said that if you keep treating this like a second home he’s gonna start making you split the rent with us,” your boyfriend snickers.

“I was joking!” Renjun shouts from the hall, coincidentally walking down at the same time you happen to be talking about him.

“I think Renjun should mind his own business,” you say, and he rolls his eyes prior to stepping inside the bathroom. “And why aren’t they going with the rest of you?”

“Won rock paper scissors,” Haechan mutters, “but back to what I was saying about sex being a remedy, I promise I’ll make you cum at least three times when I get back.”

“Why three?”

“Because I don’t think you can handle four,” your boyfriend kisses you on the lips for a second so short it feels unreal, and you’re torn between focusing on that or informing him that he sounds like that one Reese’s commercial, “but I gotta go. See you later, babe, love you!”

“I love you more!”

“No, I love you mo—wait. I see what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work,” he catches on, earning a gloomy frown from you. At least you tried. “Now goodbye, I love you most!”

“No, I—” before you can even chuck out half your sentence, the door is rudely shut in your face.

You huff. He cheated.

Alas, you’re left alone. Flopping down onto the couch, you consider that Renjun’s probably right about you overstaying your welcome, though it isn’t like you’re here all day every day. Two days a week at most. You have your own lovely apartment free of men that fight over video games and superior pizza toppings. Speaking of men, you’re tempted to go annoy Renjun in order to pass the time, but then Jisung creeps from the shadows of his room and you’re suddenly no longer interested in the former.

“Sungie!”

You don’t seem to notice the look on his face when you call him that, and even if you did, you wouldn’t have been able to make out what it meant. It’s fleeting, gone before it’s ever really there. Jisung covers it up with a smile, though can’t help but feel the nickname has an entirely different feeling. It used to be cute—innocent and sweet. But then he heard you begging for him and that changed his perception of the word forever.

He figures that he should probably let it go, though. It happened almost a week ago, the sex. It was fun, he knows that. All parties enjoyed it, he knows that too, but he also knows that Haechan would never let it happen again. Hell, he’s still surprised that he let it happen a first time.

“Y/n,” he smiles cheerily, joining you on the couch. You sit upright to make room for him. “you’re here while Haechan’s not?”

“Oh, yeah. All my clothes that I have here are dirty so I’m waiting for them to finish washing and drying,” you explain, Jisung listening and nodding understandingly, “I also don’t feel like driving.”

Jisung laughs, “I can’t drive so I’d be zero help with that, but I can help with your laundry. Do you need any assistance?”

“I’m good,” you shake your head. “Thanks, though.”

Jisung nods. “Cool.”

“Cool.”

You both know shit is anything but cool. And if you’re being completely honest, the silence that fills the room is a tad bit awkward. You’re sure you’re both thinking the same thing, though neither of you want to say it. However, there’s a major difference between a want and a need.

“We need to address the elephant in the room,” he initiates.

You sigh—in relief or not, Jisung can’t tell. “So I’m not the only one who realized.”

So, maybe your analogy was slightly wrong. Maybe sex wasn’t a perfect remedy for your Jisung situation. Or maybe Haechan’s made-up saying needs some clarification: sex is a temporary remedy, that eventually subsides into a plethora of other problems.

False advertisement.

“Yeah,” Jisung chews at his lip, “it’s been gnawing at me for a while. I mean, I get that it was supposed to be a one-time thing, but I can’t be the only one that’s having trouble forgetting.”

He isn’t, much to your misfortune, and it’s been gnawing at you. It’s even worse since Haechan hasn’t acknowledged that day since it happened, and you don’t have it in you to bring it up this time. You know he’s down to try lots of things, though at some point there’s a line you know better than to cross.

Yet the lingering memory is still tattooed onto your brain, and you can’t simply forget how wonderful it felt for Jisung to touch you; how good and deep he felt inside you; how perfectly his fingers felt on your clit; how blissful you felt when you came in his embrace. It doesn’t help that Jisung is impossibly attractive, and you can’t help but want to do things to him, or let him do things to you—you couldn’t care less.

“No, me too,” this time it’s you struggling to hold eye contact, opting to look down, “but Haechan already has, and is it really worth going behind his back?”

Jisung pokes his cheek. “I know. We don’t have to act on it, I just wanted to get it off my chest.”

“Okay.” You look up at him again. He’s still looking at you, unfaltering. “Wanna watch a movie with me?”

He nods a little. “Yeah. Sure.”

Fetching the remote, you open Netflix under Chenle’s account (poor him. The cons of sucking at GamePigeon 8ball.) and select a movie. It’s nothing spectacular, but holds your attention fairly well for a while. Nothing new seemingly happens with Jisung—he’s not on your lap, though still touchy, replacing his head with his hand as he lies his head on your shoulder. It shouldn’t bother you but it does, goosebumps breaking out on your skin. As if things couldn’t get any worse, your body refuses to listen to your brain, allowing itself to look at his hands as your brain shouts at it not to. With the sight of his fingers planted firmly into your brain, showering little seeds, it’s impossible to forget those six days ago. Even if you try and push the memory away, it’s helpless. Your body remembers, and doesn’t want to forget.

His slender fingers plunging inside you is all you can think about. You shut your eyes, yet the image burns into your eyelids. You open them again, yet it’s still there, fueled more by sight of his fingers close to you. It doesn’t help that they’re dangerously close to the inside of your thighs, the proximity making you sweat.

“Are we gonna pretend you don’t want me to finger you right now?”

His voice startles you. Jisung knows you think he hasn’t caught you, but he does—he did. It’s impossible to ignore the burn of your stare.

Fuck, when did he get so bold? “Jisung,” you whine, already sensing this is going to head in a direction you simultaneously do and don’t wish for it to.

“I want to do the right thing, I really do, but it isn’t easy knowing you want me, I want you, and we’re not doing anything about it,” he’s slowly rubbing circles onto your thigh, which is significantly bare since you’re in un-lengthy Dolphin shorts, “can’t we do it one more time? Fuck it out?”

“You and I both know that if we do it again this won’t be the last time,” you say.

He doesn’t look half-bothered by the idea. “That’s not something we have to worry about right now though, right?”

Fuck.

You know better than to give in like this, but it’s much too late the moment he sneaks you inside his room and lies you flat on his bed. You also know that you could stop at any time you wish, but as terrible as it sounds, you don’t want to stop. It’s basically been said that you’ll deal with the consequences later, letting impulsivity win.

“Can I taste you?” His voices sounds so hot when he says this. You can’t help but nod, allowing himself to have his way with you.

Jisung tugs down your shorts in fervor, your panties following suit and meeting one another in a growing pile on the floor. He’s seen it before, though he can’t help but gawk at the sight your cunt, dripping with arousal and he’s hardly even touched you. You’re so pretty to him that he can’t help but run a finger through your folds, spurred on further when you gasp aloud.

“Never done this before,” he says, yet he sounds ready as ever, “so tell me what to do.”

Impatiently, you nod. “Just go with the flow and I’ll help you from there.”

Your eager motion and the way you buck your hips up is more than enough to signal to Jisung that you’re ready. He takes it as you giving him the green light to begin, tongue experimentally prodding against your folds. It’s like all his hesitance dissipates the moment he gets a hold of you, as though the mere taste of you has put a spell on him that he can’t wake up from. He isn’t sure what comes over him in this moment, though he knows that he wants to savor it—the taste, the feeling, the craving. A single taste of you is enough to fill him with greed and then he’s eating you out like he just can’t get enough of you, as though there’s a burning fervor coursing through his veins that can’t be ceased.

“Sungie,” you cry. It’s been a couple of days since you’ve been given head and you’d consider that a while, so the relief is extra phenomenal. You’re sure that even if it had been yesterday, you’d be just as weak to his touch.

Then, so torturously, he pulls away. Before you can complain, Jisung shushes you. “I’m sorry, but you have to be quiet. Renjun’s here.”

Your eyes widen slightly. You had honestly completely forgotten about the other, though fortunately, this isn’t your first rodeo. If there’s anything sneaking around in the middle of the night with Haechan has taught you, it’s how to be quiet. The only reason Jisung’s overheard you is because his room happens to be directly next to the one that your boyfriend owns.

“I can be quiet,” you murmur.

Jisung scoffs. “Sure, you can.”

Affronted, you’re inclined to protest, until Jisung’s lips meet your pussy again and you’re silenced, digging your teeth into your bottom lip to muffle any potential sounds you might make. He picks up again, listening with super-sense to the quiet moans you utter as you’re unable to hold all of the volume in. It helps him apply his knowledge, playing close mind to what garners pleased reactions from you and your body.

His tongue skirts around, and he gets the wonderful idea to target your clit. The moment the muscle swirls it’s way there, you know that staying quiet is gonna be more difficult than you thought. Your lips nearly shudder shut and he pushes them open, his grip firm as he spreads you apart ever so gently.

“G-good, feels so good,” you moan softly, careful to lower your volume, “you’re doing so well.”

Jisung’s tongue is anything but gentle, however. Spurred on, he darts his tongue like it knows magical spells of it’s own, putting one on you that you fall deeper into with every stroke. The pressure feels amazing, and you can practically feel your heartbeat between your thighs. It’s honestly admirable how quick of a learner he is, paying full attention to how your body responds to his touch and solely acting on that. No previous experiences, just you and his intuition.

You really don’t have to tell him what to do. If there’s any question, you naturally give him the perfect answer. When you moan, when you whimper, when you beg. When your thighs quiver and your hips buck up in greed, it’s all a telltale signal of arousal, perfect sign of pleasure. In the moment, your fingers reach for his hair, threading through his locks and drawing him closer to you desperately. You want to feel this to the maximum, until you quite literally are numb.

It’s a miracle that you’re far from numb right now though, feeling every lap. He’s making you feel so good and it’s so hard to stay silent to the point where you’re contemplating stuffing your fist in your mouth. If Jisung was extra nosy, he would have seen another video of you and Haechan on his MacBook, a video of Haechan eating you out while everyone else was seemingly asleep. You wonder if Jisung was listening in that night, if he heard your muffled sounds after Haechan stuffed your mouth with your panties. Gosh, you aren’t sure why the thought of him hearing you in such lewd ways still arouses you. You just know that you want him to have you, you want to pry into his mind and carry out every fantasy he’s ever imagined as he got off to the sound of you.

If this was amazing, you don’t think that there’s an accurate word in the dictionary to describe the feeling of what Jisung does next. He presses his tongue inside you, his hand replacing his mouth as he simultaneously plays with your clit. Your whole body feels hot now, like piece by piece, you’re being consumed by fire.

Between watching you struggle to conceal your moans, and the way your face scrunched in pleasure as you do, he doesn’t know what’s hotter. He could do this forever if it meant seeing you break on his tongue like this. Hastily your resolve is cracking, and he knows he could have you wrapped around his finger. In fact, he thinks he probably already does. It may be wrong, though it’s only fair since you’ve had him wrapped around yours since the moment he met you.

Then he notices something—your moans are getting louder, your thighs are quaking more, and overall you look so much more blissed out. That could mean only one thing: you’re close. He knows he doesn’t have to, but he pulls away.

“Jisung!” if it wasn’t for the fact that Renjun was home, you think that you’d probably scream your lungs off. You’re also beginning to think that Haechan influencing Jisung was a bad decision. “You know that you don’t have to edge me, right? Like, even if I cum from foreplay, you can make me cum again.”

“I know,” he smiles, licking your juices off his mouth, “but I wanted to.”

Scratch that. It was a horrible decision. Now, Jisung’s equally as much of a sadistic piece of shit as Haechan.

Before you can whine, he says, “But I’ll make it up to you, if you let me,” he starts palming you with his hand, earning these little moans from you. Then he looks at you, with that pretty gleam in his eye that makes you want to fuck the shit out of him. “Will you let me?”

Ultimately, you let him. It didn’t take much for you to cave in—he had already given you head, aroused you yet refused to let you cum, so now you’re desperate for an orgasm. Plus, this has already gone too far. It might’ve not done any wrong to stop things from going any further, yet it isn’t like it would do any good, either. You’re in too deep, once you’ve started you can’t stop.

Jisung undresses you, showing you that he remembers how to unclasp a bra, and then he undresses himself. The sight of your naked body isn’t foreign to him anymore, yet he’ll still continue to marvel as though it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Fuck that—it is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“I wanna ride you,” you say, snapping him out of his daze.

He blinks dumbly. “Huh?”

Gently, you push him onto his back. “I wanna ride you,” his eyes are on you, watching you with a lustful shadow dimming his eyes. “Are you gonna let me?”

“You can do whatever you want with me,” he tells you, gaze never once leaving yours.

Fuck, he’s so damn hot.

You straddle him, and once your knees are on either side of him you sink onto his dick, a sound of relief being drawn from both of you. Instantly you feel so full, yet that doesn’t stop the need built up inside you from yelling for a release. You allow yourself to adjust all over again before you start really moving, grinding onto him.

The stretch almost makes it feel like you’ve never been here before but you take it, fingers clutching his shoulders for leverage as his arms anchor around your waist, keeping you in close proximity. You’ve allowed him to go in bare again so the feeling is as raw as it was the first time around, yet Jisung still doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. How your walls tighten around his dick, how the wet squelch of your cunt sounds when he enters you. It’s fucking mesmerizing—you’re fucking mesmerizing, and he’s happy to have you all to himself even if it’s for a moment.

“How does it feel, Sungie?” You ask, already having your answer when you look at his face.

The same way Jisung can see through you, he’s like glass to you, a mirror even. He’s beautiful beneath you, face scrunched up in pleasure, and the tightening grip on your waist is a crystal clear sign that he’s enjoying this. It’s entertaining hearing him trying not to moan, his sounds muffled as deep little grunts that you’re sure he’s oblivious of how fucking sexy they are. In contrast you can’t stop thinking about what lives rent-free in your mind, wishing you could be louder so that you’d hear the full extent of his beautiful sounds.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, surprising yet pleasing you. If he keeps up the sexy noises, you’re going to cum hard.

You smile, “All for you.”

In this particular moment, it is all for him, and that’s enough for him. He likes that he’s able to get you wet, he likes that he turns you on, he likes that you want him, he likes that he has so much control and influence over your body. And you like when he treats you like you’re his.

Jisung also enjoys watching you fuck yourself on him, ever so desperately chasing your orgasm. He hates denying you it, but that unfortunately doesn’t make Haechan any less right. It is a part of the fun because it makes you needier, and there’s nothing he loves more than seeing you all delicate and fragile, so greedy for his touch. And in your determination to cum, you’re using his shoulders to hold yourself together as your pussy swallows his dick. He knows it’s going to be a sight when you actually do cum, to see you fall apart on top of him as you finally reach your climax.

His gaze lingering on your body, Jisung suddenly feels the urge to touch you. You’re so beautiful all over, it’s only right that he appreciates every aspect of your body equally. Slowly, he drags his hands up from your waist to your breast, fundling with your breast. His fingers graze over your nipples and when you gasp, he can’t contain his smile. You’re so sensitive there, it’s so fun to mess with you simply to see you react.

“Your body’s so beautiful,” he’s really just thinking aloud at this point, but you enjoy the compliment, especially as you notice the in-awe gleam in his eyes. He looks like he’s seen you pluck a star from the sky, or summon the moon with your palm.

That’s when he gets an idea. One he’s always daydreamed about, yet never thought to ask you until now, when he’s thinking of all the ways to show your body love. “Is it okay if I kiss you? Not on the lips, but your skin.”

He thinks it sounds weird to ask, but you’re delighted by the question. “Y-yeah,” you answer mid-moan, and you can feel his dick twitching inside you, “just don’t bite or suck or do anything that’ll leave a trail and make marks.”

He hadn’t even thought about marking you, though now that you mention it, he really wishes he had the chance. He’s ignored the faint ones that linger on your body from your boyfriend, fading blotches of color. Instead, he does what he can, delivering little kisses to your skin. It starts from the valley of your breast, and slowly yet steadily falls down.

Jisung notices your breath getting shallower when you kiss him. When he passes by your breast, he makes sure to flick at your nipples with his tongue, driving an unsuspecting mewl from you. His kisses leave a hot sensation all over your body, like some kind of Midas Touch where everything he touches feel like fire. It’s a kind of fire you don’t want to be put out, that you want to let it’s flames eat at you and burn you. That’s exactly what Jisung’s touch does, and it’s driving you crazy. You don’t know how long you can keep this up before you have to let go.

You’re fucking yourself onto him at a steady rhythm, biting your lip profusely as you rock yourself against him, finding the spot that drives you to insanity. You look so fucked out but Jisung’s not any better, struggling just as much as you are to keep your sounds in. He’s so vocal, and you’d appreciate it more if it weren’t for Renjun being only some yards away.

You think of the perfect way to shush him, leaning in to crash your lips against his. With your eyes shut, you miss the way his go wide, yet he lets your mouth guide him and sinks his hands back around your waist. After all, he did say that you could do whatever you wanted with him.

Once you’ve confirmed he’s not backing away, you shift your hands from his shoulders to his hair, carding your fingers through there and drawing him closer this way. A particular movement causes him to moan in your mouth, and by then you feel beyond ecstatic. You feel high off of the pleasure, senses heightened and everything around you seems to slow. It’s a beautiful moment, filled with heavy breath and low moans, and you wonder if he feels the same.

Jisung pulls away, panting, “I’m not going to last.”

You guess that gives you your answer, because you’re so in sync, your body’s mirroring one another.

“Me neither. Fill me up, Sungie. Please.”

You’re clenching around him repeatedly, and he’s sure that’s what triggers his orgasm. That’s when Jisung meets his breaking point, biting his lip as his cum shoots inside you, yet you’re still close enough to hear the deep sound of his perfect groans. He recalls thinking that having you like this one tike would be enough for him to move on from you, but he’s onto his second and it’s already been somewhat established that there’s plenty more where this comes from. You just feel too good, more than he could have ever imagined.

The way you draw his name when you cum, clutching onto him so tightly as you work your way through his orgasm before leaning against his shoulders, it’s enough to spur him on once more. He’s realizing that he could seriously do this forever—you’re that addicting.

“Are you okay?” He asks through heavy breathing, holding you to his chest.

“I’m good,” you sigh, satisfied. “Thighs are kinda sore, but I’m good. What about you?”

Jisung rubs your thighs gently, but replies honestly, “I want to go again.”

You’re honestly astonished. You already knew that this wouldn’t be the last time, however you also didn’t expect the third to be so soon. You’ve hardly relaxed from this round, and the ache in your thighs is screaming at you to slow it down.

“My thighs ache, Jisung,” you laugh.

He pushes you onto your back, moving his head between your legs again and kissing softly at your thighs. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispers between kisses. “If you let me,” he gazes up at you, meeting your eyes. “Will you let me?”

In that moment, you feel purely hypnotized by him. Something tells you that this is a bad idea and that it’s getting out of hand, but it’s been that way since the moment this begun. You know it sounds corny, but though it’s wrong, you can’t stop this from feeling so fucking right.

And in that same moment, you realize that you’ll also let him do whatever he wants with you.

Sneaking around with Jisung becomes routine.

It’s like you two just can’t get enough of each other, drawn to the other’s body as though there’s some magnetic force between you, as though he’s a moth and you’re his flame.

When everyone’s back is turned, you find time to one another. Sometimes when the guys go away. Sometimes when they’re all asleep. Sometimes you even invite him over to the solace of your home, with no roommates, no one like you who uses the WiFi and the Netflix without paying even a quarter of a bill. Him and you. No more, no less.

Times such as now. Times when he has you backed against your front door as soon as he steps inside your apartment, out of sheer desperation. It isn’t always like this, sometimes you take turns taking control. Sometimes you fight for it until the other submits. Sometimes you’re so desperate for each other that neither of you can even think to care about control, just submitting to the desire in your bodies.

“Missed you, too,” you take his eager actions as a non-verbal way of saying I missed you. You gasp when he doesn’t respond, just pressing his lips to your skin. He doesn’t suck or bite, God knows he wants to though he knows better, but shows love to your body as he slides your shirt off.

It’s been longer than it usually is since the last time you’ve seen him, so he has every right to behave like a touch-starved virgin again. “God, I really fucking missed you,” he grumbles in your ear, cupping your chest. You bet he does. The reason you haven’t met up until now is because you two haven’t had the opportunity. It’s either the guy’s have been around more often, you’re prioritizing Haechan, or one of you are too busy and burdened with work to find time.

Speaking of your boyfriend, you don’t think he’s entirely clueless.

It isn’t like either of you are stupid enough to downright stick a hand down the other’s pants, however you’re still too touchy. Your fingers soothe through Jisung’s hair as his head lies in your lap, or his hand rests near the danger-zone of your thigh.

Haechan hasn’t brought this up, though you still feel the sting of his stare and it burns mightily. As a solution, you’ve come to the agreement to keep the contact to a minimum as long as he’s around, and use your place more often so that you aren’t starving each other of touch completely. It’s a solid plan. Haechan visits your place occasionally though not nearly as much as you visit the dorms, so you figure you two should be safe.

“Do you?” Jisung nods, not missing a beat and staring you down with the most hungry eyes. “Then show me, Sungie. Prove it.”

That’s all it takes for him to lead you to the couch and fuck you until you can’t even think — however if you could, you’d think that you honestly can’t handle it anymore.

There’s been times where you’ve almost been caught. Most recently, during the middle of the night the last time you stayed the night at the dorms. You decided to meet Jisung in his room for a quickie, slithering out of your boyfriend’s grasp and tiptoeing down the halls, thanking god that Haechan’s a heavy sleeper.

The minute you hooked your hand on his doorknob, you were given the scare of your life by no other than Huang Renjun (you swear, he’s always in the hallway at the most inconvenient of times ever.)

“What are you doing?”

You jumped. High as a Kangaroo. Turning to see who had caught you, you nearly let out a relieved breath when you realized it wasn’t Haechan. Then you realized it was Renjun, and all the panic in you resurfaced like clockwork.

Luckily, your lying skills are nothing short of impeccable because you follow one simple rule: don’t lie more than you have to.

“Going into Jisung’s room,” you answer honestly.

Renjun quirked his eyebrow. “In the middle of the night? Isn’t he asleep?”

“Oh, you know how he is. Afraid of everything under the sun, and he texted me that he had a bad nightmare so I volunteered to be his human teddy bear until he falls asleep.”

“Typical,” Renjun snorted, but he looked more convinced than you thought he would. “Good night, then. And tell him I said to grow up.”

Putting forward your best, oscar-worthy laugh, you told him goodnight back as he slipped away to his room, and you finally entered Jisung’s, shutting the door behind you and trying desperately hard not to laugh as you saw his face.

He frowned, “Scared of everything under the sun? Human teddy bear? Seriously?”

“You should be grateful that my oscar-worthy performance kept us from being found out,” you replied as you walked to his bed. It wasn’t unrealistic, Jisung doesn’t have nightmares as much as he used to anymore, though he’s certainly a scaredy-cat. You have no idea how he found the balls to sneak around with you. “Actually, I think I deserve a reward.”

Jisung pulled your shorts down your ankles, “You think so?”

“I do,” you smiled.

“Then,” Jisung paused to kiss you, addicted to the feeling of your lips ever since you first pressed them against his. It was a craving he didn’t even know he had until you gave him a taste. “Let me reward you.”

“This isn’t gonna be a quickie, is it?”

“Bet me,” he said, a little smirk on his lips that he slightly tried to hide. “How fast you think I can make you cum.”

He’s insane. That’s the conclusion you’d drawn from every moment you’ve spent naked beside him. You can’t deny it though, you like it, even if it’s a little dangerous and very unwise.

You furrowed your brows, “Bet? Like, money? Or orgasms?”

An even better currency in mind, Jisung shook his head. “Rounds.”

You knew what that meant. Jisung wanted you to himself. He was never satisfied with only one round — even if it meant overstimulating himself, he was desperate to have you until neither of you could continue, sore and exhausted from the work.

“Fine,” you agreed. “Six minutes. If you can’t, you get one round. If you can, then gosh, you deserve as many rounds as you want.”

To be honest, you never pay much attention to how fast he makes you cum, too caught up in the moment to even consider the amount of time you’d spent in that way, skin on skin, body to body. So the only person you’re sure has made you cum in six minutes or less is Haechan, because you explicitly remember him setting a timer to prove himself to you.

In spite of all that, Jisung looked confident. He passed you his iPhone and shifted to your bottom half, pushing your thighs open. “I’m ready when you are.”

Nodding, you set the clock.

Long story short, Jisung had as much fun as he wanted with you that night.

You’ve also been setting precautions. If it’s too risky for you to see each other in person, then you settle for exchanging nudes and things alike.

The first time it happened, you hadn’t actually intended for it to. It was more of a joke, you were texting each other and you playfully suggested that Jisung should send you a video of his own as reparations for his snooping. When he didn’t respond for a while you had your suspensions, but you didn’t think he’d actually hit you back with a video of himself, stroking his dick and moaning your name with a tremble in his voice.

In that moment you were given an idea of what it was like when he got off to your moans in another room, how he sounded and not so much how he looked since the focus was never really on his face, but you’ve seen his blissed-out expressions enough to come up with it on your own. It turned you on, enough to make you send back a video of your own, and from that day on it became a bad habit of yours to exchange explicit images and videos whenever you were separated.

It’s so late at night yet so early in the morning when the text hits your phone, I need you.

He caught you at a good time. Feeling hot and bothered yourself, you were honestly about to fetch your vibrator from it’s hiding spot in your closet because you knew your boyfriend had fallen asleep and assumed that Jisung had as well, at least until he texted you.

How bad is it? You send back, instead choosing to lie back on your bed, resting on your stomach as you wait for the typing bubble to transform into some type of message.

This bad. The attachment makes you bite your lip after he sends it. Sometimes when Jisung sends nudes of himself he isn’t very nude, he likes to send dick prints to tease you because he knows you want the full image. Though this time, his pants and boxers are discarded, he has his hand curled around the base of his erect dick, and you can tell at once that he’s much too desperate to be in the position to tease you. In fact, he’s probably hoping you’ll be generous to him.

He’s needy as hell right now, you can feel it. And how cruel would it be of you to not help him?

You grab your vibrator and prop your phone on your pillow, positioning it so that it’d film you perfectly. It’s late, and you have work tomorrow so you don’t have that much time to sext with Jisung, so you instead decide to send him a video you know will last him for now. You press record, and wiggle yourself out of your panties exaggeratedly, knowing he’ll love the gesture. He always does. Then you spread your thighs apart, enough so that he’d easily be able to see how wet you are. For a while you tease yourself with your fingers, allowing little moans to fall from your lips before you desperately reach for your vibrator.

The feeling of it against you almost makes you forget that there’s a camera watching you, and that this is supposed to be for Jisung more than it is for you. You’re not worried, however. The thought of him has successfully infiltrated your mind, and you can’t help but moan his name louder than your ears can register. With your eyes firmly shut, you’re imagining it’s him between your thighs—his dick, his mouth, anything. In this moment you, don’t care. You can’t care.

“J-jisung,” you whimper when you’re close, not once, not twice, but several times in a chant-like manner. You can only imagine how much he’ll love that, and if he wasn’t hard already, it would’ve certainly did the trick.

It feels explosive when you cum—literally. That’s when you come to the realization that you’ve squirted, and you find it a nice touch to end the video with. You send the message Good night to Jisung, making sure to attach the video before preparing for bed.

The next day when you find some free time, Jisung calls you briefly and asks you to come over, informing you that the guy’s are away and won’t be back for some hours.

Of course you’d never miss the opportunity to see him, and you were there in record-time, wearing a cute skirt you know he likes. Time is blur when he opens the door for you, and you hardly remember what happened in the time between you walking inside and him sitting you atop the kitchen counter.

He slithers his hand up your skirt, making you sigh in pleasure when he rubs you through your panties.

“Missed this so much,” Jisung murmurs, acting as though he hasn’t seen you in days. You didn’t think it was possible, but somehow you’ve turned him from a virgin to a sex addict. He’s seriously a fiend for you, but you don’t mind it.

You snort. “You always miss me.”

“Yeah, well,” you can sense the disappointment in his voice, but you don’t know where it’s coming from, “I miss you more now because you kinda left me hanging last night.”

Is he talking about you not sexting him? There’s no way, you sent him a whole video. He isn’t entirely insatiable. “What do you mean? I sent you a video?”

“No, you didn’t,” when Jisung fills you stiffen in his grasp, he stops and steps back. The realization creeps up on him as quickly as it does you.

Your voice at a whisper, you quietly muse, “Then who did I send it to?”

“Me.”

You think you’re going to be sick. You don’t even have to turn your head, you can tell it’s Haechan from the sound of his voice. Still you do, your heart hammering against your chest as you look him the eyes. He’s standing by the door and you have no idea how long he’s been there, but you know it’s definitely been too long.

“Hyung,” Jisung looks equally horrified, “I thought you left.”

That’s right. Jisung did tell you everyone had left, and it surely seemed like they had. No cars outside, the apartment was quiet, and void of all life save for you and him. You had made a mistake, and fuck, so did he.

“I was asleep,” Haechan shrugs discardingly, too nonchalant to be relaxing. “Having fun here, aren’t we?”

You start, “Haechan, I—”

“Can explain? I don’t want to fucking hear it,” he’s upset, and it’s finally seeping through his calm demeanor. “When I saw that video I’m thinking I’m waking up to a sweet morning surprise from my girlfriend, ya’know, and then I hear you moaning my best friend’s fucking name,” his gaze pans to Jisung, who then practically cowers.

Fear has consumed half your body, though lust consumed the other half. You can’t help but bite your lip at the way your boyfriend looks when he’s mad, pushing your thighs together — and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“You’re fucking turned on by this, aren’t now?” He’s doing that laugh, the one that’s more out of anger than genuine amusement. It doesn’t help you at all, because damn does he sound hot doing it. “You know what? Come on. You too, Jisung.”

Haechan hooks his arms around you and forces you down the hallway before you can even think to move. You know being thrown around by him shouldn’t turn you on and especially not right now, but you can’t help the way that the aggression combined with his angry attitude has you sopping.

Jisung trails behind, feeling as though he doesn’t have much of a choice. You can tell he’s scared shitless, but you on the other hand are somewhat thrilled to see where this’ll go.

You’re practically thrown onto the bed when Haechan takes you into his room, slamming your back onto his sheets without much care. “I’m going to play with you until I’m satisfied,” he announces, not leaving room for options. “And Jisung, you’re going to watch.”

Jisung’s Adam’s apple bobs. “Watch?”

“Yes, watch. You’ve been fucking my girlfriend right under my nose and think that I’m going to let you off easy?”

Neither of you are going to be let off easy, and that’s the scariest part about it.

He doesn’t say anything from then on, only dragging down your articles of clothing or pulling them above your head at paces nothing less than excruciatingly slow. You begin to feel bare and uncovered underneath him, as though nothing could escape him and as though he can see through you more than you could him in the moment. The inscrutable expression on his face as he strips you naked makes you feel like everything you’ve hid is being stolen from confines, open and on display for him. He can see so much of you, but you can’t tell what’s running through his mind as he touches you almost everywhere but where you need him to.

The little relief he’s permitting you as he hauls his fingers around your skin isn’t enough and you at least know that he’s aware of that, deliberately fighting shy of the space between your thighs. You try and squirm, to show any possible hint of you needing more, but Haechan moves his hands to hold your hips steady. “You’re only making this worse for yourself if you keep moving,” his grip tightens until you give up and lie still, realizing that cumming is probably going to cost you more than you initially thought. “I’m in control here. Not you, not him, me. If you want to cum, then you’ll have to play by my fucking rules.”

You lift your gaze to Jisung, finding him staring back at you. The look on his face appears as unsure as it had the second you were caught, but the bulge in his pants betrays any lack of will present in him. If he could, you know that he’d be running his hands all over your body too, and you realize that that’s probably what’s going on inside his head.

You look away. “I’m sorry.”

The way Haechan snorts, you can tell he doesn’t believe you. He knows you’re only sorry because you want relief, and know the more you disobey him, the longer you’ll wait for it. “If you’re truly sorry, you’ll take what I give you like a good girl.”

The thud of your heart against your chest is loud, yelling at you when you feel him finally spread your thighs apart. You wonder if he can hear it too, the hunger and desperation in you calling for him in one steady rhythm. He moves like he’s willing to satisfy your greed, although not all at once, taking his precious time with you as he presses delicate kisses and rubs patterns onto the insides of your thighs. You whimper, but the dark, shadow-y look in his eyes as he gazes up at you shuts you up instantly.

“C-can I touch her?” Jisung asks tentatively.

Haechan doesn’t look back, doesn’t even think about it as he replies, “Not yet. You can touch her when I say you can.”

He’s dipping his head onto you again, not to say he ever really left. You moan a little when he licks at you, fighting the urge to buck your hips onto his mouth in reluctance to anger him further. You don’t know what the consequence would be if you did, and you’re fine without knowing. Still, the pace he sets is agonizing and it takes everything in you not to let temptation prevail. You know you did a bad thing. You also know that bad behavior doesn’t get rewarded, but you can’t help but feel a little selfish, wishing he’d give you a little more instead of teasing you beyond imaginable.

Eventually, the little licks do become more, gradually developing from gentleness to Haechan lapping at you with the eager movements of his tongue weakening you as he becomes unable to resist his own temptations. As you grip his hair forget there’s even anyone else in the room with you, weak in a way you had never allowed yourself to become for Jisung. This type of fragility is what he hears at night and what he saw in the video, but what he’d never be capable of having. You’ve been desperate for him too, but Haechan’s broken you beyond desperation. He’s teased you until your cunt physically aches, then filled you with pleasure that gives you whiplash.

“Hyuck, Hyuck,” your knees feel weak, and you can’t even think. All you know is that this feels good, and you fucking need him.

“You wanna cum, angel?” He coos, only moving away from your cunt for a second before he’s latching onto you again.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant. “Please.”

Your stomach feels like a rollercoaster, your gut flipping, turning, twisting, spinning—and everything in between. You can feel your orgasm approaching and you know that Haechan can too, with your body quivering in his grasp, your sounds increasing in frequency and volume, and your clutch on his locks tightening without you being capable of noticing.

In short, your stomach feels like an insane rollercoaster, your gut flipping, turning, twisting, spinning—and everything in between. You can feel your orgasm approaching you quickly and you’re sure that Haechan can too, especially from how your body quivers in his grasp, your sounds increase in frequency and volume, and your grip on his locks tightens without you being capable of noticing. It’s almost as though your body is physically here, yet you’ve elevated off in heaven somewhere. But when he pulls away just before that invisible string in you can snap, you feel shoved back into torturous reality.

“No!” You whine.

“You really think you deserve to cum?” The way he looks at you feels so degrading that you can’t resist shaking a little underneath him as he hovers above you, “I’m going to edge you until you understand that this pussy is mine.”

“No, no, no,” you whimper, “please let me cum, Hyuck. I’ll be good, I promise.”

Haechan scoffs. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that? You weren’t worried about being good when you decided to be a slut for Jisung.”

The mention of Jisung gives you the rough reminder than he’s still in the room again, watching closely how pathetically you unravel before your boyfriend. You can tell that he wants to do something but he’s mentally debating it, and he shies up every time you shift your gaze over to him again. He’s more nervous now that he’s been directly mentioned, unsure of what to do and how to react in a scenario like this. He knows he shouldn’t touch you, but should he be ashamed if he were to touch himself? Should he feel guilty about the things he’s done with you when your boyfriend’s back was turned?

“I, I didn’t—”

“You didn’t what, babe?” He crooks his head. “Go ahead and tell me another lie.”

It’s almost embarrassing how easily Haechan makes you feel like such a pathetic mess. You can’t even find the words to say in response to that, and he’s simply amused by how quiet you’ve gone. It was never like you expected him to placate you after finding out about everything you did behind his back, but you didn’t think it would hurt to try, hoping he would show you some type of mercy and be even a little lenient. You know that he didn’t deserve for this to happen to him and that you don’t deserve even a sliver of his mercy, but you had hoped that maybe he would still find it in him to grace you with it anyway.

When Haechan moved his lips from between your thighs, soaring up your body and re-starting his teasing journey at your neck as he peppers the skin with gentle kisses that you know only temporarily betray his attitude, you had then accepted that nothing comes without a cost, and that this was your price to pay. He played fake soft with you, treating you like you had a fragile label warning printed across you in spite of being completely aware that you wanted more, that you needed more and would never be satisfied with what little he was giving you. That was what made it more fun for him though, because it seemed like no matter what amount of pleasure he was generous enough to give you, you would take it for granted and not value it enough.

Then Haechan’s movements get fiercer as he continues to follow this torturous pattern of gradually fulfilling your desires, kissing developing into biting and sucking at your flesh in ways that make you gasp out in response, and ways he knows will leave marks on your skin. He was satisfied that Jisung had at least successfully avoided that and you couldn’t imagine what side of him would unravel if he hadn’t. Haechan liked to joke and play around at times but he was never truly all that possessive over you unless you had truly set him off, and this was one of those instances where you had.

There isn’t a single sign of reluctance in him as he marks you up more and more little by little, sucking red spots into your neck and falling steadily down the rest of your body to cover every area he could. He knows that they aren’t tattoo permanent, but not extremely temporary either. In the moment you would feel him decorating your skin, but afterwards you would look in the mirror and see how he had left you covered practically head to toe in marks. If you were bold enough to try and sneak around with Jisung again, he would be reminded that you didn’t belong to him and you never would. You’re Haechan’s, and Haechan’s only.

Jisung speaks up again, asking in the faintest, meek voice, “Can I touch myself?”

For once it manages to make Haechan pause, and ultimately causes you to whimper by instinct when the rough contact between your skin and his mouth is broken, but the moment is thankfully brief when Haechan shrugs, “Go ahead.” Then he’s continuing again.

At the same time, Jisung manifests every sign of being eager to get his clothes off, desperate to feel some sort of relief that he’s been refused recently. He had planned on breaking that spell, on having you to himself today even if it was only for a while, and honestly couldn’t and wouldn’t have predicted that this would happen. After going without being inside of you for the past couple of days on top of you ghosting him last night (whether you intended to or not), he felt starved of everything he was craving.

Touching himself felt no where as good as being inside you would, and especially after he finally had received the experience to prove it, although it’s better than nothing and he’s accepted that Haechan is likely not going to let him anywhere near your body — not until he’s done playing whatever game he calls this. You would nickname it torment, and so would Jisung.

You’re back to square one soon enough, with Haechan reappearing between your thighs once more, still acting slowly and rather teasingly although not nearly as much as he had the first time around. As you feel his mouth on you, your sounds mix with the ones that Jisung audibly makes as he strokes himself to the sight, practically bouncing off of the walls. “Be quiet,” Haechan whispers momentarily, and you immediately frown. You instantly feel the urge to question why he suddenly has a problem with you making noise, but you figured it would be best to fight against them. If you thought about it, lacking self-control is what landed you in this particular situation in the first place.

In your attempt to hold back any sound, you bite the walls of your cheek. He has you right there on the edge again, at the point where it’s hardest for you to keep quiet, but you manage to comply with his rules. It’s relaxing your body that feels impossible, especially when he’s pushing the right buttons. Your thighs begin to tremble, and your senses feel so heightened that you could almost cry. You’re right there, so close, your orgasm practically in arm’s reach—yet then he torturously snatches it all away once more. This time you do cry, however for an entirely different reason than you anticipated. “Haechan, please let me cum. I’m sorry, I’ll do anything!” you’re past the point of caring that Jisung’s seeing you like this, all capability of feeling embarrassment and shame leaving you as you’re filled to the brim with nothing but denial and want. “Please.”

Swiping his thumb over your eyes, he coos mockingly, “Aw, did you wanna cum? Do you think you deserve it?”

You’re nodding your head impatiently, unable to stop the trail of tears that stream down your cheeks. “I’ve been—I’ve been good, Hyuck. I did everything you told me to do.”

Haechan seemed to debate the decision of his next move in his head, going back and forth with himself a couple of times before ultimately deciding he would he allow you a deal. “Here’s the deal: I’m gonna fuck you, and you better not make a sound unless I tell you to. If you don’t cum by the time that I do, then you won’t cum at all. Got it?”

Again, you nodded fervently, sealing your lips shut in fear of messing up your opportunity to cum before you ever really got the chance if you opened your mouth. Haechan stripped himself of his clothes in what felt like seconds, throwing them onto the floor to be concerned over another time. He had truthfully wanted to be inside you when he saw that video you’d accidentally sent him, just to prove to you that no one could ever make you feel as good as he could. He had a particular motive in not letting Jisung touch you, too. He was punishing not only you, but the both of you, and he wanted Jisung to see that no matter how much you crawled to him, you were Haechan’s. You belonged to him entirely, and he could please you like no other. It wouldn’t matter how good he was because Haechan was better, and with every second that passed, he proved it time and time again, relentlessly.

So when Haechan thrusts inside you, there’s no doubt that Jisung feels jealous. It’s his own fault for messing with someone who didn’t belong to him, but he’s attached to you in a way that he doesn’t think he could be with anybody else.

“Shit, babe,” he slides in easily, both from the fact that you’ve been dangerously aroused since the moment he grabbed you and the fact that he’s edged you twice already.

You had almost whimpered at the feeling of him gliding inside your cunt, but then you remembered the terms of your agreement and settled with digging your teeth into your bottom lip with a force slightly dangerous. In this moment, you’re content. All you had wanted was to be filled and Haechan does so greatly, shoving his girth inside you as though he had been waiting for this moment his whole life. With how much he had been edging you, you never really realized how much his own need was growing.

“Fucking slut,” Haechan growls, watching how eagerly you take him. You look like such a mess, cheeks stained with tears, skin covered in marks, and your body practically shaking in response to the pleasure. “Needed dick so bad you fuck my friend behind my back?”

When you don’t reply, his palm lands on your ass, causing you to barely hold in a moan. “That was a question, baby.”

“I—‘m sorry,” is all you can bring yourself to say. There’s no use in coming up with a better response, you already know there’s no words you could use that would placate him.

“I didn’t fucking ask if you were sorry though, did I?” he smacks your ass once more, and this time you’re unable to contain the loud yelp that tears from between your lips. “And I told you to shut the hell up. But I know you can’t think with nothing but that greedy fucking pussy.”

You’re then distracted by the ever so inviting sounds of Jisung’s moans the second they ripple through the air, instantly shifting your gaze towards him and observing how hot he looks as he gets himself off to this, to you, his hair in front of his face and his lips parted agape. He sounds as beautiful as he looks, eyes squeezing shut in a deepening moan as he strokes himself with his palm. If you were in your full mind, you would have realized that you’re only further proving your boyfriend’s point, however you just can’t help but still want the both of them—together.

Haechan slows his movements until he stops entirely, then grips your chin, slightly rough yet you display no sign of disliking it. In fact, it’s probably worse how much you enjoy him manhandling you. You’re so close to whimpering when he goes still, hardly remaining silent and although he doesn’t mention it, you know he could tell. “Look at me, not him. You’re fucking mine,” he enunciates the single syllable with one sharp, deep thrust. “This pussy is mine,” he repeats the motion again, rocking your body forward and nearly forcing a moan from you, “now tell me who you belong to.”

Weakly, you answer, “Y-you.”

It’s clear that Haechan isn’t moving again until you’ve complied, and he seems unsatisfied by your response. Your thoughts are confirmed when he instead smacks your thigh, resulting in tears to prick your eyes once more.

“Not satisfied. Try again.”

“You, Hyuck, f-fuck,” you sound weakened and broken, attempting to speak through your sobbing, “I’m yours, I belong to you! Only you. N-no one—no one but you.”

That seems to do the trick, because he finally re-starts thrusting into you habitually, temporarily making your vision go black when he strikes a particular, sweet spot. There’s no one word that perfectly captures how he feels inside you, and you wouldn’t even bother to try and think of one. Hell, you’re beyond the point of thinking. You would’ve been embarrassed by how dumb you’d gone at this point, unable to comprehend how loud you’re being and that you’re essentially breaking one of the terms of your deal. Haechan’s in too deep to stop now though, wanting to feel how you perfectly take every inch of him, and instead comes up with a better solution.

“Jisung, come—s-shit—come fuck her throat,” Haechan barely manages to grunt out, his own eyes closing firmly and his moans getting louder with every passing moment. “I know that’ll make a slut like her shut the fuck up.”

At first the command takes him by surprise, though then Jisung’s rushing over to fuck your throat without needing to be told twice. He’s a little unsure if you had even registered the words that left your boyfriend’s mouth, however he can’t find it within him to stop once he slips into your mouth. He can’t stop the moan that tumbles from between his own when he feels your mouth around him, neither, the warm sensation already feeling levels bettet than his palms. It’s then that he realizes you’d never sucked him off before, that it had always been him giving head and you on the receiving end—not that he minded. He loves giving you head and watching the way your body reacts to his touch. However he discovers that he also likes the way your mouth feels.

He’s dreamed about this, and the reality is so much better than the expectations. You’d seemed a little lost when you noticed him in your mouth, but you sucked anyways, assuming Haechan had finally allowed interaction between the both of you and being glad about it. You also feel bad that he had been abandoned on his own for so long, unable to do much but watch, and wanted to please him to the best of your ability. The look on his face is hard to concentrate on when your boyfriend’s simultaneously fucking into you relentlessly, but the glimpses of it that you do manage to catch tell you that you’re most likely doing a great and successful job.

“S-shit, you feel so good,” Jisung moans, practically feeling his whole body tingle.

You’re almost overwhelmed by the feeling of having two dicks in you, although it’s clear as day that he isn’t going to last extremely long, especially considering that he had already been getting himself off beforehand. You listen to his deep groans while simultaneously watching the way Haechan’s face twists and scrunches with pleasure, the three of your sounds—although yours muffled—mixing together as one. 

“G-gonna cu—f-fuck,” Jisung grunts, unable to finish his sentence before he’s filling your mouth with his cum, his eyes firmly closed as he murmurs a set of curses. He pulls away when he’s finished, watching with awe as you swallow as much as you can, and admiring the way you look as whatever you couldn’t take in your mouth dripped down and decorated your chin. 

There’s something about the way you look at him that honestly makes him feel like he could cum again right then, right there. 

Deciding slapping your ass isn’t effective enough, Haechan slaps your cunt to grab your attention, not caring that you whimper from the unexpected impact and almost tempted to do it again because of how sweet you sound. “Focus on me,” he commands, and you comply. “You close?”

Forgetting about what had happened earlier, you simply nod in response, much to his dissatisfaction. 

Haechan slapped your cunt again, “It’s like you never learn, baby. Use your words.”

“Y-yeah, I’m close,” it’s written all over your face, you know he’s only asking for a chance to torment you some more, “can I—can I cum?” 

“S-shit, cum for me babe. You better do it before I do,” he says, reminding you that you wouldn’t be allowed to cum if you didn’t by the time that he had. He’s just as close as you were, moaning needily, his grip on your waist tightening almost bruisingly. His thrusts get deeper yet they aren’t as precise as they were initially. 

Whatever happens in the next couple of moments you don’t process, save for your orgasm and the feeling of Haechan’s cum filling you to the brim, warm and thick. He stops moving eventually, slowing the way he rocks into your hips until he pauses completely. When he pulls out, he watches the way his cum drips from your cunt, unable to hide the proud smile developing on his face. He knows you like it too, recalling vividly all the times you’ve begged for him to cum in you. 

He scoops you into his arms afterwards, kissing your neck gently again, making you giggle when he avoids your mouth for obvious reasons. “You okay? Too rough?”

You shake your head. “I’m good.” He’s never too rough on you.

Jisung clears his throat from beside you, making you both shift your gaze to him. “So, um,” he begins awkwardly, “what now?”

The smirk on Haechan’s face is sinister, and you know whatever he’s thinking in his head can mean zero good, but a part of you is excited for it anyways. “We’re not done here,” he says plainly, then adds, “since you wanted it so bad, do you think you can take two dicks for us, y/n?”

You have no idea, but you guess you were about to find out. 

When you slowly nodded in confirmation, you swear you saw Jisung eyes twinkle a little in excitement. “Can we record it?” 

Haechan shrugs. “Is that okay with you, babe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you reply, thrilled by the idea. If this was the last time you’d ever be with the two of them at once, then you wanted to be able to remember it vividly, and there was no better way than recording. 

Your boyfriend grabs his phone from the nightstand, grinning a little devilishly. “Are you ready?” When you nodded, he pressed record and immediately brought the camera to your face, still sticky with cum. 

“Smile for the camera, baby.”

#nct dream smut #jisung smut #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #park jisung smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream x you #nct dream scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct

[ncteez]

homewrecked. (j.ww)

Wonwoo doesn’t seem to realize that you’re giving him the best option out of a relationship that doesn’t even involve you. With a cheating best friend on one side, and a loyal Wonwoo loving her from two hours away on another, you decide that home wrecking isn’t always a bad idea.  or the one where wonwoo fights internal demons over wanting you bc he’s in a relationship that he doesn’t even realize is falling apart.

ao3 | m.lists | leave feedback and reblog to give wonwoo a boner

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 12k

PAIRING― wonwoo x afab reader

CONTENT― toxic relationships, fluffy sex?? like it’s very intimate

WARNINGS― infidelity, there’s some angst but it gets fixed with fucking, mentions of reader having tits that jiggle and she’s also shorter than him, alcohol consumption

NOTE― will i ever stop writing smut from his point of view? probably not. we love to know what a man is thinking while he’s balls deep. anyway, this ain’t proof read bye. 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― big dick wonwoo, making out, leg humping lmao, finger fucking, oral [m receiving], “IT’S NOT FUCKING, IT’S MAKING LOVE!!!”, cliche “omg ur pussy was like, meant for me”, mating press position, unprotected sex, cream pie, he’s in love bro– 

~

Wonwoo didn’t know why he needed you so badly and the thoughts ate him up. Day after day, watching you dangle yourself in front of him like you don’t know he’s definitely not the type to take you up on the offer. 

The issue is that he would take up the fucking offer if you had done this five months ago before he entered into a long distance relationship with your best fucking friend. She moved out of town, and two hours wasn’t going to stop him from pursuing that relationship. You, however, you were definitely going to make him stop pursuing. Why? Because your best friend is a bitch, and it’s not like she hasn’t texted you about all of the dicks she’s been sucking since she left.

Why not give him the revenge he doesn’t know he needs? 

~

He can feel his eyes burning holes through that thin shirt you're wearing and at this point, it’s painful to try and pretend he doesn’t stare. Even more painful to pretend he’s being nonchalant about it each time you get a little too close to him, each time you bend over directly in front of him, and surely each time you decide not to wear a bra while wearing said thin shirt. 

He doesn’t understand why he keeps showing up for you. Before, it was because you were a mutual friend between him and his girlfriend. You were cool, laid back, and fun to hang out with. His girlfriend never seemed to mind when the two of you would hang out alone, then again that was quite a rare occasion before she moved away. Now though, hanging out with you seems to have far more intent behind it than just avoiding boredom on a weekend. Now, you appear to be more interested in what he has to say, what he looks like, how he’s feeling.

Wonwoo can’t quite pin point the moment in time where you started acting this way, but he sure as fuck can pin point the first day you seemed off around him. He thought he was thinking too hard, wondering why you knocked on his door on a cold December evening with no jacket on, but wonderful cleavage offering firm jiggles with each shiver. 

It got to the point that by the time spring hit, and he was still hanging out with you on the regular, that he was almost annoyed that the temperature got warmer. Sure, it was more of a reason for you not to wear clothes, but it doesn’t feel as intentional when you’re quite literally dressing for the weather.

Still, you’re here again. In his apartment, sprawled out on his couch with the remote in your hand as if this is your own space. You really do make yourself at home, a little too at home. No bra under that thin shirt, the air conditioning raising goosebumps on your skin and perking up your nipples each time you lift your arms up for a long and audible stretch for him to surely suffer over later. 

Hanging out with you shouldn’t feel like this, because he has a girlfriend.

“What do you want for dinner?” He asks from the kitchen, pretending that the two of you don’t seem like a couple on your own, as if he wasn’t just texting his actual girlfriend.

“Dunno,” You shrug, turning your head to look at him and noting his slow response of bringing his eyes from your tits to your face. “We should go out.”

His heart thumps heavily at those words but is very quick to realize that you’re absolutely not asking to be his girlfriend right now. 

“Huh?” He asks nonchalantly, averting his eyes back to his near-empty cabinets with a huff.

“Like, go out? To a bar? A restaurant? A club?”

He lets his arms fall from the cabinet as he closes it in defeat and makes his way to throw himself onto the couch next to you.

“You, of all people, should know I don’t go out anymore.” He retorts in a long sigh, averting to the fact that those are options for single men or couples that seek those kinds of experiences together. 

“Why not? She still goes out.”

The first secret is out, though you kind of assumed he knew already.

“Oh? Does she?” He asks, seemingly not too bothered. “That’s good, she deserves to go out and meet people considering she moves to a brand new city.” 

You nod in agreement, rolling your eyes up to look at his living room ceiling. 

“Come on, she knows I’d be there to fend off any girls trying to get in your pants.” You argue with him, or rather, you try to convince him. 

“And you plan to go looking like that?” He asks, turning his face to you and once again staring straight at the way your tits leave no room for imagination.

“Uh, yeah? It’s not like I'm the one under lock and key.”

He rolls his eyes at you but offers a small nod, standing to his feet and shuffling to his bedroom. 

“At least put on a jacket or something, I think it’s supposed to rain tonight.” 

You nod, smiling as you follow him to a room that should be off limits to you. Mostly pleased by the fact that you’re going out with Wonwoo alone, and surely you’re about to be wearing his jacket over the shirt you wore specifically for him to look at. 

~

You were right, you are wearing his jacket as you step past the security at the club. Shortly after the two of you left a small diner, you nearly thought he was going to have cold feet and not want to go, even after taking the time to fix his hair and wear a nice outfit. Thankfully, he didn’t. Thankfully, he’s right at your side appearing as nervous as he was the day he asked your best friend out. Thankfully, he looks like he’s here for you and not to be your wingman. 

“Lighten up, we’re just here to have fun.” 

He nods, looking at you and the way his jacket looks on you. It shouldn’t look so good, you shouldn’t look so good to him. He can’t help but feel like he’s crossing a line despite learning his girlfriend goes out quite often without so much as telling him about it. Even before he started dating her, it’s not like clubbing was his thing. He just went with you and his girlfriend, occasionally letting his own friends tag along to find some raunchy date for the night. 

“You’re right,” He nods again, encouraging himself. “Just gotta get in the mood of things I guess.”

You smile at him and pretend you heard what he just said over the bass of the music, and opt to point with your head toward the bar that holds a short line of people appearing to be ready to drink. He follows behind you, being led from a comfortable distance in a space that should force him up and against you. Consistently, you look back to make sure he hasn’t been lost in the crowd. To make sure he isn’t being grabbed at by all of the people who would surely want to pick him up tonight if they find him standing alone somewhere. 

He keeps the pace though, shoving up next to you by the bar so that you both can order your first drink of the night. All you can do is look at him briefly any chance you can get as the two of you wait.

He looks uncomfortable here, but incredibly handsome in the darkened room with the neon LED lighting flashing across his cheeks. You’ve seen him in lighting like this before, usually pressed up against your best friend, but now you feel as though he needs you here for comfort. Then again, he wouldn’t even be in this situation if it weren’t for you arguing that the two of you come here. 

Still, you know how he acts when the alcohol hits him, especially in a loud room full of hidden secrets that people are releasing without a single hint of fear. You have some secrets too, ones that you’ve felt bad for keeping, but in a way, it isn’t your job to tell him. 

The snide part of you likes seeing him take an interest in you. Someone so entirely loyal shouldn’t be caught up with someone like your best friend. You’re actually shocked he gave in so quickly to even come to this club with you, even more shocked at the way he continued to hang out with you despite your obvious attempts of seduction.

You started doing it a mere day after your “best friend” texted you a selfie, post-sex glow practically dripping out of her sleepy smile within another man’s bed. With an arm wrapped around her, one that did not belong to Wonwoo. You knew it wasn’t him, because she texted that shit the same day Wonwoo had his job interview.

He got that job, and part of you wonders if the excitement in your friend’s voice for him over the excited call he gave her later was really for him getting the job, or if it was because she had some really great sex with some non-boyfriend. Because of course you were at Wonwoo’s house helping him pick a professional outfit, of course you were there letting him recite the things he wanted to present at the interview. Of course that’s what you were doing, you helped him prepare and then waited around his place until he got back with the news. He’s your best friend’s boyfriend, and arguably, he was also your best friend by that point. 

After that, all respect for the relationship left you, and instantly you took matters into your own hands. Be there for him, be around him, be a friend to him, and of course, try to get revenge for him. Even if that meant using your own body because for some reason, you felt protective. You felt possessive.

Seeing the way he looks at you, even while being in a loyal relationship, is arguably pushing you past the boundary of just wanting revenge for him. You can see him argue with himself in his head, the doubt of why he’s looking at you this way, the doubt of why you’re doing this so suddenly. It’s attractive seeing him fight a loyalty that his own girlfriend doesn’t even give to him. It’s attractive to see him here, next to you, spouting out his drink order and looking at you briefly as if to tell you it’s your turn.

And you do order, feeling the fabric of his jacket rub against your naked arms, and the zipper occasionally stimulating your breast beneath the thin shirt. Wearing no bra has both pros and cons. The pros being, constant stimulation and Wonwoo keeping his eyes attached to you and telling on himself. The cons, the bar tender and every other fucking person in this club appear to also be staring. 

Thankfully, the two of you grab your drinks shortly after and head straight around the dance floor and scout out a small couch in the back. Small as in, a two person seater with a small table in front of it. It’s a lucky snag on a saturday night to find an empty spot that perfectly fits the two of you, but neither of you seem to be complaining. 

You sit down next to him, feeling the warmth of his arm radiating immense heat as his eyes travel the loud room of dancing bodies, his drink in a hand that appears to be trying not to tremble. 

“Why’re you so nervous?” You whisper yell at him, taking a thoughtful sip of your drink before leaning forward and bringing your head playfully in front of his line of sight. 

“Just kind of doesn’t feel right to be here without her, y’know?” He responds, taking his own thoughtful sip and grimacing at how strong the drink is. Still, he continues to sip as he watches you roll your eyes at him in a huff.

“Oh my god, could you be any further up her ass right now?”

He almost feels offended by that comment. Wanting her to be here is not considering being up her ass, if anything, it’s being a good boyfriend. You continue to spit sarcasm at him though, looking dissatisfied with how he’s acting.

“How come she can go out and have fun and you can’t? Here, look.” You say, pulling out your phone and snapping a quick selfie with him. “Watch, she won’t mind.” 

You immediately send the selfie straight to her, with the small comment of “he agreed to be my wingman for the night.” 

Instantly, she responds with a kissy emoji, wishing you luck on your dick-search. That’s it. That’s all she sends. Even you feel your heart drop a little for him at just how much she doesn’t seem to care considering he’s practically stroking out over the idea of being here. 

“See?” 

He nods, taking another drink from his cup and nodding even harder. Honestly feeling a bit better that she at least knows he’s here. Mostly because he didn’t even know how to tell her that he’s going out to a fucking club with her best friend. 

“I’m so lame, god.” He laughs at himself, practically downing his drink by now and staring into your also already emptied cup. “I’ll go get us more drinks?”

You nod with a devilish grin, watching how his nervousness completely disappears to that of a confident man, in a club, who would have no issue with rejecting every single person who tries something with him.

There’s one issue though. Like, you commend him for that loyalty and you knew this would be a difficult task but, what if he genuinely rejects you too? Surely not, because at the end of the day, you’re the one who knows what’s happening behind his back. 

Most people would at least tell him what’s going on before trying to seduce him, and in all fairness, you don’t know why you haven’t yet. You guess you’d rather have him cheat on her back, just to show her that he’s not going to sit here and wait on her like she’s expecting him to. 

How is she gonna find out? You don’t know. 

~

The night is good, rain dripping outside is easily drowned out by both the booming music and the loud laughter Wonwoo throws at you every few minutes from people watching. The two of you have barely moved from the love seat, but have continued to drink for hours now. At this point, you’re the one staring at him, and he doesn’t even seem to avert his eyes as he continues to drink. 

From your tits to your eyes, to his jacket draped over you, all the way down to your legs and the way you move closer and closer to him, up to the point you throw both legs over his lap and he instantly grabs onto them to hold them in place. 

Still, he’s laughing. Playing it off perfectly as if it’s not intimate, as if it’s not something he would avoid if he hadn’t already downed four drinks. 

“Wonwoo,” You ask, getting closer to his ear to avoid yelling. 

His voice booms back at you, still yelling. 

“Yeah?” He responds, turning his cheek to meet yours in this moment of close conversation. 

“You look really good tonight.,” You say directly into his ear, hoping he hears you as well as you hear yourself. You’re trying to tip-toe past a boundary, but it’s not like you’re lying. 

“What?” He responds again, gripping your legs a bit tighter as he leans closer to you, his other hand reaching to your head to hold your lips closer against his ear. He really didn’t hear you, but it feels– you don’t know. It feels like something. 

“I said, you look really good right now.” You half-laugh into his ear, and he responds with a soft chuckle before pulling away from you with a shake of his head. 

“You’re being dumb,” He laughs as he continues to shake his head. “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.” 

“No, really,” You smile, playing it off much like he is. As if it’s a joke. Still, you crowd up to him again, lips right up against the shell of his ear and continue to sweet talk him. “She’s lucky, I’m a little jealous.” 

You don’t hear him, but you can practically feel his skin go cold at your words. He doesn’t move, and you can argue that he doesn’t breathe for a solid thirty seconds. Which is strange because it’s not like the comment couldn’t be taken a few different ways. It appears he’s finally let it click in his head though. Right now, at this moment. 

“Hm?” You continue against his ear. 

Finally, he pulls from you, standing to his feet and letting your legs fall from his lap. You watch him nearly lose his balance as he tries to pretend he’s totally being normal about this, and totally not drunk.

“I’m gonna go get us another drink.” He says before walking off and not letting you say another word.

That, he does. He brings back another drink and appears now to be keeping his distance from you. And you, of course, with the alcohol bubbling in your belly, feel a bit too bold and far too interested in what you’re trying to do right now.

“Did she even call you today?” You ask, slowly making your way to the point of her not even texting him once she realized he was out with you tonight. 

He shakes his head, then goes back to bobbing it to the music as if to borderline ignore you.

“Did she call yesterday?” 

He ignores you. 

“The day before that?”

He finally snaps his head over to you, brows furrowed in frustration as he fixes his drunken eyes on yours.

“What are you getting at? She’s busy!” He raises his voice at you, half-laughing at your questions toward him. You can’t tell if it’s because he’s pitying himself or if he thinks you’re trying to get him to cheat on her with you. The sad part is that it would be true either way.

“Oh. Yeah. She’s definitely ‘busy’.” You comment with a roll of your eye, practically downing half of your drink in one gulp before standing up and now trying to catch your own balance. 

“If you’re gonna be this uptight, I’m just gonna go find someone else to hang out with.” You say defiantly, somehow hoping that he would get jealous. 

He just watches you walk away, unsure of how he feels and instantly pulling out his phone to text his girlfriend. Partly just to see if she would respond, and only half because he hadn’t realized how much her communication to him had dropped.

~

You’re not having fun with this hot guy you found yourself grinding up against. You can feel the frustration in your bones with each grind, and even worse, you can feel his eyes on you in a way that’s very different compared to Wonwoo.

Sure, your tits are out and on display but it’s not like you did it for this guy. He eats it up in the way you want Wonwoo to. Even if his eyes are softer and full of doubt, this guy shows no shame in what he wants. He could have a wife at home, and still he’s looking at you without guilt. 

Not that you support cheating. It’s a strange dilemma. Hating the fact that your best friend is doing it to Wonwoo, then countering her by fucking her man before letting him in on the reason why. It would be easier to just tell him, help him break up with her, and then woo him, but you feel angry enough for him that you prefer a more difficult route. The dramatic route. One that hurts her knowing he’s not bothered by her cheating because he has someone else to fuck now too.

Your drunk brain wonders what the fuck you’re doing here, with a guy that isn’t Wonwoo. So, your eyes wander around the room, landing on him still on that same love-seat, eyes glued to his phone. 

Not-so-politely, you break away from the man attempting to shove his hand down your pants and head straight back over to him. You knew he wasn’t going to chase you out onto the floor after how rude you ended up being to him, but you really don’t have it in you to let him just sit in a club alone with a girlfriend two hours away probably taking some dude balls deep right now. 

By the time you get to him and plop back down, he looks at you with a pained sort of face.

“Alright, turn it off.” You say, practically babying him as you grab his phone and hold the power button down. “She isn’t always the nicest.” You easily insult her to him, but he seems to agree by this point. 

“She left me on read.” He says with an annoyed sigh. “You think she’s gonna break up with me?”

God, the pity you feel in that moment is intensely guilty. Because no, she’s not going to break up with him. It’s the other way around, actually. 

“Hey, come on. You’re gonna ruin your buzz if you keep thinking about that.”

He nods to you, very nearly about to become the drunk-cryer before leaning against you with a heavy head, trying not to pay attention to your lack of reassuring him. 

“Not sure why you’re jealous though, she hasn’t even let me visit her.” He laughs in a sad way. “Kinda wish she looked at me the way you do sometimes.”

He trails off, feeling you shift from under his head and take in a deep breath.

“You’re pretty attached, huh?” You ask, opting not to pry at this moment, opting not to feel jealous. 

“Unfortunately.” He huffs, now lifting up and appearing to shake off his sadness. “Well, whatever happens, happens. At least I got you to hang out with.”

You nod proudly, now throwing your legs back onto his lap and staring at him. 

“Yeah, whatever happens, happens.” 

~

Oh boy, did stuff happen. 

Stumbling into and out of a taxi happened, wobbling into his apartment happened, feeling him tug against your shirt as he fell into his bed, practically dragging you down on top of him, happened. 

The most sobering moment was being entirely too drunk yourself to continue your plan with the night, stopping frozen as he looked up at you with a drunken smile and a small chuckle. The small voice coming from his lips saying, “You know, if I wasn’t with her I’d kiss you right now.” 

You remember very nearly kissing him anyway, but opting to playfully cover his mouth and roll over and off of him before promptly passing out directly next to him. 

And now you’re lying here at two in the afternoon, back facing him, with his arms clinging to you as if you belong here. You’re a little worried that he won’t remember what he said, and even more worried that he will.  The hangover is prominent and booming in your skull, and partially you hope he’ll have a headache too blinding to even realize that the person he’s clinging to isn’t his girlfriend. It’s you. 

Only a few minutes goes by before he stirs. His hands gripping you tightly, pulling you back and against him as he groans sleepily against your neck. You can practically feel his deep inhale of comfort by not waking up alone, until he freezes. 

“Oh, fuck,” He says suddenly, in a voice more awake than ever. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to like–”

You roll over to look at him with your own sleepy smile, pretending as if you just woke up as well. 

“It’s fine.” You assure him, sinking further into the blankets and trying to ignore your headache. “I cuddle with my friends all the time.”

He stays silent, not quite sure of how to navigate the situation but ultimately feeling the sharp pound in his head and throwing his head back against his pillow with a huff. 

You’re a little sad that he doesn’t reach out again, but it’s kind of a given. The fact that he doesn’t ask you to leave his bed is enough for you right now.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” He asks reluctantly, internally hoping to god that you don’t. He vaguely remembers saying some stuff he shouldn’t have said, and doesn’t remember at all if he followed through with it or not.

You pick up on his tone of voice, careful and slow. 

“Not really.” You say back, acting as if you’re falling back to sleep.

He breathes out a small breath of relief, allowing the silence to take over the room. 

“Except for you saying you wanted to kiss me.” 

Wonwoo is actually fucking horrified that you remember, reaching a hand to his temple and rubbing harshly in a self-soothing way. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” He says back quietly, feeling the air become heavier and heavier. 

“Oh,” You start, feeling a bit of a pull inside of you. “Well, you were drunk, so I didn’t think you did anyway.”

He breathes out another sigh of relief. 

“Still, it felt good knowing.” You add. 

Wonwoo pauses, feeling the ground beneath threaten to crumble from under him, taking you, him, and his bed with it as he looks over at your back turned to him. Something inside of him is now pulling a bit as he studies the way you breath and lay against his plush pillows. Your voice sounded disappointed, and he doesn’t understand why he’s also disappointed in lying to you about it. He did mean it, but it doesn’t mean you were supposed to be aware of how much he wanted to kiss you. He can’t. He’s loyal.

Nevermind the fact that you’ve never slept over. Nevermind the fact that you’re in his fucking bed.

“I’m not going to tell her, don’t worry.” You say out to the silence, in such a tone that doesn’t really leave room for him to respond outside of feeling bad more for you, than for his girlfriend who can’t seem to give him the light of day. 

There’s another long moment of silence, and part of him wonders if you’ve already fallen asleep again. He can feel his headache get louder and louder in his ears and opts to try and sleep more too, because it feels like a better idea than dealing with this heavy atmosphere. 

And he’s not sure why he does it, but he very carefully rolls towards you and reluctantly puts an arm around you. It’s just cuddling, nothing more. Friends cuddle all the time, right?

When you shift under him, wrapping your fingers up with his, he’s unsure of why he doesn’t pull back, and even more unsure as to why your hand fits within his better than his own girlfriend’s does. 

~

It’s been a week of silence from Wonwoo since the night you slept over. When you officially woke up, he was still next to you, curled in on himself despite falling asleep in a way that should have been more telling than the silence in the room. You didn’t wake him because you knew he was pretending. The hint was that he didn’t want to talk about it, and he definitely didn’t want to look you in the eye. You took the hint.

So, you went home expecting him to text you at some point during the day. He didn’t. The next day? Also nothing. And now, a week later, still nothing. 

You’re a bit in your head. Each work day is filled with menial tasks that do not interest you, mostly because you can’t help but believe you went a bit too far. You were being too pushy, and it resulted in this. Now, even if you were to see him again, wearing those revealing outfits would feel more like a disrespect than a fun little game you’re playing.

It isn’t fair that he’s playing that game with you without knowing, and perhaps it’s time to just get down to the point and tell him. His girlfriend is cheating on him and you’ve been a bad friend to him. You could care less about how she feels about you trying to get her boyfriend in bed with you. 

His loyalty never faltered past staring at you and drunkenly admitting that he would kiss you if he wasn’t in a relationship. The task you gave to yourself was stupid, and to think Wonwoo would really pick you over her while still being with her was arguably the worst idea of your life. 

Your confidence has faltered beyond belief, to the point that expecting him to text now is null. Even if you were to reach out to tell him what’s happening behind his back, at this point it would just look like you’re trying to pry. Like you’re getting involved in a place you do not belong, and definitely weren’t invited. Possibly even, like you’re lying just to get to him. 

And you know, you would have stuck with the plan of silence, the plan of moving on from the situation, until she decided to snap you a billion and one selfies just the night before. Then again, it shouldn’t have surprised you when you opened snapchat this morning to see her, again, in a bed that isn’t Wonwoo’s. She must be out of her damn mind because his bed was warm and his arms were warmer. 

She, again, is smiling. She looks drowsy in each photo, the arm held against her gripping her tighter in each photo until you see a glimpse of his face. 

It shouldn’t piss you off, honestly, it shouldn’t. But the fact that she’s in bed with that man and not Wonwoo? Huge downgrade. The fact that she’s smiling bigger than you’ve ever seen her smile with Wonwoo? Worst best friend ever. 

You don’t even respond to her, and instead screenshot every single photo, ignoring the fact that it will notify her of it, and then you block her. 

You get a text at lightning speed from her immediately after taking at least nine different screenshots, catching a glimpse of the first line of text stating “what are you screenshotting for?” before blocking her number as well.

And then you sit, staring at the dirt in your camera roll before pulling up Wonwoo’s text box. 

Sitting there on your bedroom floor, you type out paragraph after paragraph explaining yourself and your behavior before dropping the bomb. Drafting it once, twice, erasing all of it and starting over. Then you get anxious and close out the text box, instead writing what you want to say in your head but never quite satisfied with it because, well, even if she’s cheating on him…there is no way to explain it in a way that would excuse how you’ve been acting towards him. 

Wallowing in your own self-pity, you seem to lose the point of the matter. Wonwoo is the one being fucked over, seemingly by both of you. Your best friend is taking advantage of him and so are you. 

Ding. 

Your phone goes off next to you, and part of you assumes it’s your “best friend” texting you from that guy’s phone instead, but your stomach drops the second you see Wonwoo’s name. 

Wonwoo: can you come over today? 

You almost want to say that you can’t, despite obviously wanting to. You’re anxious, you’re feeling awful, and you’re pissed off at the entire situation. 

You: why? what’s up?

Wonwoo: i wanna hang out? 

Well, maybe you can take advantage of his ignorance one last time. Surely he feels the intense awkwardness between the two of you, and he’s probably just wanting to put that to rest by hanging out like before. So, naturally, you’re going to go over under the idea of hanging out, and then find a way to tell him. Making no mention of how long you’ve known this to be going on, making no mention of your little mind game, or the revenge. 

After all, he deserves to know. 

~

Wonwoo is a little bit surprised that you show up in appropriate clothing. Not a hardened nipple in sight and you’re wearing jeans to cover your legs. He tries not to look at you in disappointment at this moment, and thankfully it goes unnoticed by you because, well, you’re blatantly avoiding looking anywhere near his face. 

He doesn’t like that you’re not looking at him. Hates that even an hour into the hangout, you’re offering very little conversation compared to normal. You’re not making jokes, you’re not flirting. 

While this is going on, Wonwoo feels like he’s staring far more than usual. Noting little things about you that he hadn’t gotten to pay close attention to before. The way your skin looks, your posture, the way you make a certain face when you seem to be thinking about something. 

In his head, he wonders if he prefers looking at you this way compared to simply staring at what your body could offer if he didn’t have a girlfriend. His heart still beats the same steady pace, but it doesn’t change the fact that he feels like, especially after last week, there’s something here and exploring it is something he’s been avoiding for far too long. 

It’s been there for a long time, and you never showed much interest until after he started dating your best friend. The fact that you started doing all that stuff after she moved away, while he’s trying to make things work from a distance? It was a hard thought to grasp, a hard feeling to admit. It seems he already admitted it to himself though. Putting together puzzle pieces in his mind that don’t quite fit. Ones where it’s him and his girlfriend, trying to fit your piece somewhere near him. It never fit until it was just you and him. 

He never wanted to admit how much he loved spending time with you, how much he loved looking at you, how badly he wanted to touch you. It only got worse after she left, and after you started being around him more without her. He would notice even more things about you that he liked, and the mental gymnastics only drove him to act like an idiot around you. It made him talk about his girlfriend more, as if to mute the thoughts he would have about you. 

Now though? He’s had time to think, he’s had time to figure things out, and ultimately, he’s had time to miss you. To see what it would be like without you around him for more than two days. 

He really did miss you. A lot. Arguably more than his girlfriend, who lives two hours away and hasn’t even allowed him to visit her. So, as he’s sitting next to you on the couch, he moves closer. 

When you get up to grab something to drink, he’s right behind you, absentmindedly placing a hand on your waist to reach up into the cabinet to grab you a glass before you can do it yourself. 

When you sit back down next to him on the couch, he scoots even closer, reluctantly throwing an arm over the back of the couch and gently playing with the collar of your shirt. 

All of those tiny touches bring your eyes to him a few times. The feeling of intimacy is more overwhelming than the day you lost your virginity. You didn’t have to do anything to get him to do it either. You’re not even trying anymore, and here he is, finding ways to get closer to you. Finding ways to invite you into his personal space. 

The air in his apartment feels intense. It feels untouchable to you in a way too, making your anxiety bubble even more as you waver on the line of telling him the truth or just enjoying the way he’s acting right now. There’s too much guilt involved though, as you turn to look at him and this time, you don’t break eye contact. 

He can tell you want to say something, but knows that you probably won’t speak your mind.

“What’s gotten into you?” You finally ask after a long moment of staring at him, and he just shrugs. 

“I just feel comfortable,” he tries to play it off, his mind feeling heavy with the fact that she hasn’t texted him for three days. “And little frustrated.”

Sexually. Considering he hasn’t touched a single person since she moved away. Not to mention the fact that you have been dressing in a way that made him need physical touch for so long now. Until today, anyway. All of those hang outs where you showed up looking ready to be touched, and then leaving untouched? All of those nights he spent alone in his room trying to get his girlfriend to call him, moan for him, or send him photos? All of those nights without love from either of you, and only love from himself. 

“Oh, Why?” You ask, reluctantly. You’re nearly prepared to get up and leave, hoping that his frustration isn’t at you as a person, or about what happened last week. 

“She hasn’t texted in a while and I’m starting to second guess some stuff, I guess.”

You look at him with a shocked expression, the guilt rising in you to the point that you very nearly start screaming out the secrets. But you don’t, because he continues. 

“You’re not wearing the stuff you usually wear to try and impress me either, so I feel like I may have lost my shot.”

Oh.

You look away, a confused feeling inside of you now. The guilt of the situation turning into that of petty revenge yet again. This is what you wanted. Him making a suggestion, even while in a relationship, to want you, to have you, to need you. 

“I want to kiss you, so bad.” He sighs out at your silence, flopping his head against the cushions of his couch and groaning in frustration. He squeezes his eyes shut, a face looking as though he was pained to say such a thing, but it’s more so just the frustration of wanting to kiss you, and never having the chance. Never being able to be in a position to do it. Never being the person you wanted to do it. 

“Are you going to do it this time?” You say in a small voice, still looking at him and the way he shows his clear intentions even through the slouched posture on the couch. 

The cushions are plush around his head, offering him a comfort that you assume you could never bring to him in a moment like this. Even when he turns his head to look at you, eyes darting across your face to search for your usual cheeky smirk or grin, and finding none of that. 

It’s the first time either of you have crossed the line of flirting. There is no flirting to be had here, and only Wonwoo’s reluctant intimacy, his needy suggestions. 

“Yeah.” He lets out with a sigh, now taking in a deep breath and still not moving from the couch. 

You, on the other hand, unintentionally push the secret to the back of your mind. The sheer idea of him wanting to kiss you, and him actually planning to do it overshadows any other thought in your brain. As if the entire situation never happened, and it’s just you and him with no ties to other people. 

As if he’s not in a relationship. As if you’re not actively trying to end that relationship. 

It’s silent, and he’s still unmoving after saying that. You look away briefly, trying to muster up the courage to say something else. To encourage him, to do it yourself. Then, before you can even try, you feel the couch dip next to you, and when you turn back to look at him. He’s right there.

You can feel his breath fanning over you, only now noticing that he must have been sucking on that candy before for this very reason. The scent of something fruity and sweet overpowering your senses as the two of you blink at each other. 

You watch as his eyes go from open, to hooded, and you feel his palm against your cheek. The warmth of it lulling your own eyes to close. 

The first feeling of his lips felt like any other kiss. Plush and warm. His lower lip slots between yours in a simple way, and he stays like that briefly before pulling back and looking at you.

His insides are buzzing, unsure as to why this feels so insane right now. He’s kissed before, so many times. He’s made out, he’s fucked. He’s done everything, but with you, it’s different. And it’s so fucking cliche to think about. Never did he think kissing you would feel any different. 

But it does. And maybe it’s because your lips are prettier than his girlfriend’s, maybe it’s because the candy he had made the kiss all the sweeter. Maybe it’s because you’re here, and she’s not. 

Or maybe, it’s because he actually likes you. 

It only continues from there, his lips falling to yours once more, and then twice more, until he’s managed to cup your face in both of his hands and really kiss you. His tongue slipping in with ease and not at all as reluctant as his hands. 

You kiss him back, seemingly trying to take what you can get before he realizes what’s happening and ultimately runs away from this. 

With each passing moment, it’s what you expect to happen but, for him, each passing moment is only going further and further past the boundary line. His tongue continues moving against yours, his lips continue to fit perfectly with yours, and he keeps going until he’s breathless. 

When he pulls back this time to breathe, his hands go from your face to your shoulders, running down your waist until he grips your hips and pulls you forward. You don’t budge at first, looking at him and his candy kissed lips. 

He seems confident when he pulls at you again, and again, until you follow where his hands are pulling you. Directly on top of him. 

There, he positions himself much like he did when he said he was going to kiss you. Head pressed back into the cushions, eyes closed before half-opening to look at you with a serious expression. Seeing him from this angle, with your legs thrown on either side of him, straddling him? 

That angry feeling inside of you bubbles up again. This is what your best friend can fucking have? And she’s not doing it? She’s not here right the fuck now, sitting on her pretty boyfriend? With his stupid warm hands holding her so delicately on his lap? With his messy hair and pretty lips?

You groan as you look at him, moving your hand to pinch the bridge of your nose and shake your head. 

“Hm? What’s up?” He asks, in his own little world with you, his girlfriend so far in the back of his brain that he doesn’t seem to comprehend the gravity of the situation. 

“I just,” You start, adjusting your eyes back to him and taking in his image once again. This time feeling like the breath is knocked out of you with the way he’s looking at you. You forgot what you wanted to say. 

“Are you worried?” He asks, bringing his hand back up to your face and running the back of his fingers against your lips.

It’s something that makes you feel like he’s not taken. It makes you feel like he wants to be taken though, by you, specifically. 

You shake your head, kissing his fingers as they continue to make their way back and forth across your lips. Only slightly sticking out your tongue to lick them, before he runs that hand to the collar of your shirt and pulls you down and against him. 

There, before you can even think to pull yourself back up, he’s wrapping his arms around you in a hug, letting your head lay against his shoulder as he talks. 

“You really have no idea, do you?”

On the fucking contrary. He’s the one who has no idea. 

“How long have I wanted to hold you like this?” He continues, still hugging you too tight for you to lift up enough to look at him. “Do you know?” 

You shake your head, digging deep in your brain and finding no hints from him that would indicate such a thing. 

“Since before you approached me to meet her.” He says, dropping the bomb that he’s still not yours, all while holding you as if you’re his. “Since that time you asked my friend for help on campus opening your bottle.” 

“That was over a year ago.” You comment in disbelief, noting that college life felt so far away despite it not being a distant memory at all. 

In fact, you remember the way he wanted to help before his friend did. You didn’t know him until that moment, and only knew his friend from a few classes.

“From the first second, I think,” He ponders, his grip on you loosening as he lets you raise up slightly to look at him. “I think this is what I wanted from then on.”

“Then why are you with–”

He cuts you off, kissing you again and ultimately doing the job of shutting your brain off so well that you can only believe he was meant to be the one doing it. 

And there, the two of you sit like that with no goal in mind. Just kissing, just feeling, just enjoying. With each breath you need to take, the kisses only come back more intense, up until you think a solid hour passes.

Never have you made out for this long without a hand in your pants, or your hand in someone else’s pants. Arguably, you feel as if you need your hand in his pants by now, especially because you can feel how aroused he’s been. 

He never pushed for more though, with his length sitting directly under you and his little relieved breaths each time you adjusted your body on his to kiss him deeper. You can imagine his legs must be going numb by now too, but he leaves no room for complaints. 

None of his little sounds seem to come from pain, and the fact that this alone is enough to satisfy him brings that angry feeling back. You can imagine he must love to go slow. He must enjoy taking his time, and being gentle, sweet, and loving. Your best friend is so fucking different. You’ve heard of her sexual endeavors, you’ve seen them both in photos, videos, and hell, even in the same room as you because the bitch has no comprehension of personal space. 

Only now do you realize that during her entire relationship with Wonwoo, she never talked about sex with him. She never sent photos, videos, or was all over him when the three of you hung out. You assumed it was because it was his boundary. You know she doesn’t respect boundaries though, so clearly not. 

“I don’t know.” Wonwoo suddenly whispers between kisses, forcing you to search your brain as to what he must be referring to. 

“Hm?” You hum into his insistent lips, only giving enough space for him to offer short bursts of conversation. 

“Why am I with her, that’s what you were going to ask, right?” He says, pulling back and letting you look at him. 

You nod reluctantly, trying not to feel his arousal beneath you twitch against your ass. 

He shrugs.

“Does it really even matter?” He asks, now moving his body in a way that suggests you should stand, and you do. 

You stay silent, watching him stand to his feet in front of you, looking down at you. 

“Does it?” He asks again, looking at you for an answer.

You shake your head, watching him slowly take a step back, and back, and back. Fully aware of the fact that he’s making his way to his room, and knowing you’re going to follow him.

You do, following him until you get close enough that he grabs you again and holds you against his chest, expertly walking backwards in his apartment straight to his bedroom door. You could do that too, if you wanted to, because you’ve been here more times than you can count. 

There, he continues to hold you in his grasp, inhaling the scent of your hair, running his hands down and slipping them under your shirt, rubbing your back.

You’re the one who snakes an arm around him to open his bedroom door, and he very nearly trips backwards. The chaos of you falling on top of him wouldn’t be the most awful error, with the way he keeps getting caught up with simply fucking hugging you. Thankfully though, he doesn’t fall.

Instead, he regains the control of his body and turns both of you around, now forcing you to walk back until your knees hit his bed and you’re falling back with him on top of you.

It’s silent again save for a small laugh from him, and he still just stares at you. As if he’s taking you in for the first time each time he does this. 

He pulls his arms from under you and adjusts them now to where one is holding up his weight, and the other is once again fiddling with the collar of your shirt. There, he leans down and kisses the side of your mouth before moving down your neck, stopping where his fingers are toying with your shirt. 

“I’m so hard,” He whispers against your neck, thrusting his hips forward and against your leg. “Can you touch me?” 

You pause at the feeling of your heart fluttering, the warmth of his breath against your skin only heightens the feeling and you intentionally lift your leg slightly to bump against his length. 

He lets out a pleased sigh at the feeling, tensing his hips against your leg and kissing against your neck again, beginning to suckle in that same spot. 

His hands move up and down your body as he chases the friction your leg offers, slowly lifting your shirt, up until he has to remove his lips from your skin to get it off of you, only to immediately place them right back there, and sucking harder against your collar bone. 

You feel his length throbbing against your leg with each little movement of his hips, and the pained feeling of your blood vessels being bursted with his mouth, the feeling of his hands now running up to your bra, intentionally moving the fabric just to free one of the breasts he’s spent too much time staring at before. 

When he does that, you feel him release your skin from his mouth and groan out at the first glimpse of real naked flash, now running his lips straight to your nipple and sucking there instead. His hips moving faster against you until he can barely stand it. 

He releases your nipple with a pop sound before looking at you, his eyes shining in a new way. He studies the way you lay beneath him, then looks down at his cock chasing the feeling of your slightly raised leg before he laughs at himself. Only slightly, a very small laugh. 

“I feel so desperate…” He comments, shifting his hips harder. “and I don’t care.” He adds, reaching for your bra and pulling it off of you without so much as unhooking it. Then he goes straight for his shirt, lifting it off of his body just a quickly before lying against you just to feel the warmth.

“Are you okay with this?” He finally says, in a smaller voice, with a little less confidence. 

Of course you are, even with all of the things unspoken about this situation, and what could come of it. 

You offer him a small nod, moving your hands up to his hair and pulling a bit, as if to guide his lips back to your nipple. He follows with ease, smiling around the hardened nub and flicking it with his tongue before immediately pulling back and looking at you. 

He’s fucking beaming. Never have you seen him look so happy. He’s practically glowing as he looks at you, and it makes you feel like your heart is going to thump out of your chest. You smile back, feeling like you both must look so stupid right now. He’s cheating right now, and you both couldn’t be happier about it. 

“You’re so…” You start, your voice coming out cheerful and pleased. “cute.”

He raises a questionable brow at the choice of words there, wanting nothing more than to seem sexy, or like, arousing to you. But he will take it at face value, and hope that someday, maybe he’ll be more than just cute.

He hums, leaning back down to your nipple yet again, suckling it between his teeth before finally moving over to the other, warming up the skin there and leaving no part of you without a tingling sensation. 

His hips have stilled, but you can still feel him ache against you, so you make it a point to raise your leg higher, moving it against him until he can’t stop releasing little moans from around your nipple. You keep doing that, up until he releases your skin with a deep sigh, one that feels painful.

“I want you so bad.” He groans, lifting fully from you and towering over you. 

You look up at him, eyes trailing his chest and abs before focusing on his hands, which lifts from you and travels to the button of his pants. 

It’s going to happen. It’s really gonna fucking happen now. You’re happy, your heart is fucking threatening death on you, and your entire body is reacting to him at this moment in the form of warmth soaking your panties. 

He watches you watch him, your eyes practically urging him to do exactly what he’s intending to do, and he’s even more happy to oblige. Making a show of unbuttoning his pants, unzipping, and then pausing. 

“Hey, look at me.” He says playfully, watching you struggle to move your eyes back up to his. “Keep looking at me.”

God, it truly is a fucking struggle to keep your eyes on his, despite how much you’ve grown to love how passionate they are when he looks at you. In your peripheral vision, you can see him lower his pants, you can see his hand reaching to pull his cock from his briefs, and you can even see him tug against it a few times, all while he’s smiling directly at you. Knowing you want to see it. 

“How does it feel to have someone flash what you want in front of you, but not being able to really look?” He asks, again in a playful voice.

You roll your eyes at him, then dart them straight down and take in a deep inhale at how big he appears to be. Even against his hands, large and slender, his cock is arguably something that will feel new to you in size alone. 

Honestly, you can’t fucking comprehend your “best friend” moving away and leaving that behind. Choosing someone else, letting someone else inside of her. Looking at it alone has your entire body in hyper-awareness of how badly you want it. You want him. Not even for revenge, but just to show him that he is fucking wanted. He is desired, and he isn’t worth fucking leaving. 

You’re still staring when he shuffles back, landing his hands on your pants to try and get them off of you too, but you stop him. Shooting up from your back and nearly throwing yourself into a dizzy fit before grabbing onto him and pushing him from the bed. 

He’s a little shocked, and definitely confused, until he realizes what you’re doing. You shift to lying on your stomach, face level with his hips.

“Oh,” He lets out, noting the way you’re grabbing his hips and bringing him forward again, his knees hitting his bed and the head of his cock hitting your lips. “Oh, shit.” He grits out, feeling you instantly take him into your mouth without even so much as suggesting you wanted to do this.

If there was a line to cross, it was already crossed, but this means there’s no turning back. And he’s fucking fine with it. His “girlfriend” never seemed this excited to do this. She was actually, um, quite boring in bed. Not to compare her to you or anything, it’s just, you know–

You can feel him tremble when you take him deeper into your mouth, honestly just wanting to show him how much you want this. You take him deeper, and deeper, until your throat constricts around him and you feel him tap at your shoulder and slide himself out. 

“You don’t have to do that,” He comments, slightly out of breath, a tint of red fanning over his cheeks. “You really, really, don’t have–” 

He’s cut off by you ignoring him, doing the exact thing that’s getting him to act like this. Taking more and more until your throat constricts again, and you continue to let your throat stimulate him. 

“Fuck.” He moans in another shaky breath, showing that he’s still trembling, much like you are. 

He doesn’t argue this time though, instead he opts to find out where the fuck he should put his hands. One lands on your head briefly, before it moves to your cheek to feel how hollowed out they are, then it ends up running through his hair, to amplify the feeling of pleasured insanity running through his body right now. 

And when you pull back to breathe, you feel his hips chase the warmth of your throat. Gagging you once more before he sputters out a small apology, heaving in a breath and trying to steady his thoughts of how fucking amazing you are. 

You smile at him, wiping the corners of your mouth before planting a kiss to the head of his length, tasting the salty pre-cum that you hadn’t gotten to taste before, considering how deep you took him into your mouth. 

He still looks at you, dazed and totally infatuated with the way you look so proud of yourself. His cock twitching in front of your face, his eyes keeping the same passion. Before you can even go back in for more, he’s reclaiming his control. 

“Roll over,” He says, not trying to seem demanding. 

To you though, it just seems desperate, in a good way. A great way. 

You do, rolling over and seeing him lean over you to quickly undo your pants, his cock literally right on your face. You playfully lick the base, feeling his entire body twitch as he laughs. 

“Stop.” He chuckles at his own sensitivity, trying to shove your pants down in the awkward position. 

“Don’t put it on my face then.” You argue, licking again. 

He finally steps back with another laugh, removing his length from the assault of your tongue and throwing himself onto the bed, finishing the task of taking off your pants. 

He briefly notes the wet spot on your panties, sighing in relief with a smile before he balances himself on one arm beside your head and leans down to kiss you.

You let him. Feeling entirely desired and wanted by him. The kiss is just as deep as the ones before, but this time you have the breath knocked out of you. You can feel his fingers moving your panties and going straight for your clit. 

Your mouth falls slack against his, letting out a sigh that he swallows up enthusiastically. 

He continues that, sliding his fingers up and down your folds, circling your clit, kissing you, chuckling to you, licking against your tongue before experimenting with sliding a finger into you.

He only stops kissing you at that moment, looking down at where his finger disappears inside of you, and then searching your face for a reaction. You look back at him with a dazed smile, slightly nodding with another long and drawn out sigh. 

Then he slides his finger out, and slides in two, a bit harsher this time. Effectively fucking his fingers into you only twice before you’re pulling him back down and into a rough and messy kiss.

His hand continues to fuck into you as his tongue counters the motion with slow drags of his tongue against yours, as if he’s tasting each moan you give to him. The candied flavor of his lips is more dull now that you think you’ve kissed the flavor out of him. You imagine he can feel exactly how much you want him, with the way you’re grasping him, the way you’re moaning for him, the way you’re kissing with no rhyme or reason. 

His hands get rougher and rougher as the minutes pass, up until he can feel you dripping against his knuckles and hopefully onto his bed. 

“So wet,” he compliments you through a breathy kiss. “So pretty.” He adds, pulling back to really see how you look while being fucked. 

You hum in response, spreading your legs a bit more, now using your own body to fuck against his fingers. Wanting more of him, wanting them deeper. 

“Wonwoo,” You sigh out, feeling the slide of his fingers continue to drench themselves into the heat of your pussy. “Please tell me you’re going to fuck me.” 

He continues to look at you, his cock twitching at the words as he dips his head in a small and, somehow shy, nod. All he needed was for you to ask. Now all he needs is to feel you stretch around his aching cock, relieving him of the intensity of how badly he’s wanted to be inside of you for so fucking long. 

“Just tell me when.” he whispers, letting his fingers continue to do the work. 

“Now.” 

Well, you don’t have to ask him twice. He smiles, popping one more kiss to the corner of your mouth before lifting from you and staring down at the way you slide yourself on his fingers. Imagining briefly what you’d look like doing that to his cock. Closing his eyes tightly at the image and nearly whining out in pleasure at the image. 

You’re a little shocked at first, with the way he pulls his fingers out, removes your panties, and instantly lays his cock against your core. Sliding it through your folds and humming at how wet you manage to coat his length. He does that for a little too long, but you watch him. He’s enjoying the image, staring straight down and seemingly focused on burning the image of his cock sliding against you in his mind. 

And when he does finally position himself, he’s quick to grab one of your legs and place it over one of his shoulders, before sliding in slightly, then doing the same with your other leg. 

There he stares down as he sinks into you, watching how deep his cock can go, feeling and seeing you pulse around him in a harsh and searing stretch. 

Then, he looks at you and the way you’re lying under him with a face that resembles both pain, release, and pleasure. It drives him further, fitting his cock into you as if it was made for you and you alone. 

You, on the other hand, feel as though you’re being split in fucking half by the sheer length of him. He just keeps pressing in, deeper, deeper, deeper. Until your legs tremble on his shoulders and he’s quick to turn his face to land a gentle kiss against your calf, as if to soothe you. 

He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to though. When he bottomed out on you, all he could do was sit there and feel your pussy adjust to him. It felt so fucking good, so tight, so wet. All of it had him nearly not even thinking with his own brain. It made him want to say filthy things, seeing you stretched out on him, feeling your legs tremble even through his soothing kisses. Seeing your hands weakly grip at the sheets above your head. 

Only now, does he slide out to offer you a bit of relief, watching your face and the way you take in deep breaths before releasing them with sweet sounds for him. He slides back in, letting out his own moan before gripping one of your legs to hold it in place and holding your thigh with the other. There, he finds a rhythm. One that has you moaning with each thrust, out of breath, and your legs trembling even more.

One that has him feeling like he could do this for hours. Loving the way he fits into you, loving the way your tits move with each thrust, obsessed with the way your voice translates pleasure for him. 

He thinks he might be in love, fucking into you as if his life depends on it. As if his “girlfriend” never laid under him like this. Because she did, and somehow it never felt as good as it does with you. 

Even through the silence save for moaning and breaths, it feels more intense than fucking ever has for him and he doesn’t want it to end. He loves the way your pleasure squeezes his length so tightly. He loves the little sounds you make, and fucking adores the way you still try to meet him half way with his thrusts. Like you’re urging for more, like you’re loving it, like you’re loving him. 

He does this for a while, internally falling in love with you over and over again with each moan, each clench of your pussy, each fucking tremble. That is only heightened when he manages to move a hand to your clit, fighting your weak hands to push them away from you as he stimulates the sensitivity beyond belief.

You moan out for him, both chasing the feeling and urging him to stop because you don’t want this to end either. He chooses to keep going though, watching you reach your arms up to him, as if you’re calling to him through the intense sensitivity. 

He’s so quick to let your legs fall from his shoulders as he intertwines his fingers with yours on one hand, the other keeping up the pressure against your clit. He leans closer to you now, face inches from your as he looks at you

“You’re so fucking pretty like this.” He compliments directly against your lips. “It isn’t fair.”

You can hardly comprehend what he’s saying, feeling his hips pick up intensity now that he’s even closer to you. The angle change makes the slide of his cock feel perfect inside of you, bumping every sensitive spot alongside his fingers caressing your clit, it sends you over edge without so much as a silent warning.

Honestly, it happens before he even realizes it himself. Feeling your pussy stutter around his length and the way you hold your breath as you try to kiss him at the same time. He tries to slow down to feel it, encouraging you to let it go while feeding into the one sided kiss. His fingers are still toying with you, wanting you to give him your all as you release. As he slows his hips, the slow drag of his cock inside of you continues to fuck you through your orgasm until he stops moving completely, unaware of how much you’re stimulating him through your orgasm, he pulls out half way in a panic.

“Hold on–” He breathes against your lips before throwing his head back and trying to convince himself not to come. “Stop clenching, fuck.” 

You could argue, but honestly you’re about as stupid as he appears to be right now. Clenching harder at his words and the way his body jerks inside of you as he presses all the way back in again. Prolonging your orgasm past your own comprehension. 

You moan louder in surprise, and there he goes. 

Losing his goddamn mind inside of you as he releases, almost forgetting where he is as he pumps every single bit of his come into you with full fucking intention. Wanting you to feel it as he kisses you through it, wanting you to know just how much he could give to you, and ultimately feeling satisfied with the way you cling to him as he does it. 

Up until both of you are breathless, trembling, and a fucking mess when he pulls out of you. 

~

The silence in the room came back after the two of you caught your breath, Wonwoo was quick to clean both of you up, knowing for a fact that a shower will need to be in the plan within the next ten minutes. 

But also, something else has come back to the front of his brain. Since, you know, he kind of lost his mind for a while there.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was cheating on me?”

“How did you–” You start, immediately pulled out of your post-sex daze. The glow of your skin disappearing and replacing itself with guilt and panic.

“When I asked her, she asked if you told me.” He responds, as nonchalant as ever. Showing no anger toward you for knowing. 

It seems he figured it out on his own.

“Oh….”

“You could have just told me instead of letting me sit there and suffer abouting wanting you at the same time. Do you realize how awful that made me feel?”

You’re not prepared for this conversation, as much as you’d like to be. 

“I was trying to get back at her.” You say in a small voice, feeling ashamed. 

“Well, we definitely did.” He starts, tapping the bottom of your chin and forcing you to look up at him. “You should have told me though, instead of trying to take matters into your own hands.”

You look at him, searching for any hint of anger or disappointment and finding none. If anything, you see the frustration, possibly part of what he referred to before he fucked you. Before he definitely didn’t cheat on his “girlfriend” with you.

“We did?” You start, glancing away from him. “She knows we–?” You continue, wondering how the fuck the two of you would have gotten back at her if you only just had sex. 

“Oh, right.” He puts a finger in the air. “I kind of jumped the gun and told her not to feel bad because I cheated on her too.” 

“What?! With who?” You panic, wondering if the silence of last week was him fucking the sad out of him with someone else.

“You.”  he pauses, avoiding eye contact. “Then I hung up and waited a few days to decide on what to do. I ended up texting you to come over so I could make good on my promise.”

“And if I wasn’t interested?”

“You were clearly interested.”

#wonwoo smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #jeon wonwoo smut

[theywantedplayer]

can you do one for quinn where you guys get into a fight so your friends take you out to a bar and they lowkey ditch you and a guy won’t leave you alone so despite not talking rn you call quinn to come get you and then you guys fight some more in the car but you’re still pretty drunk so you switch from fighting to being a cuddly drunk bc he looked so cute when he was jealous and mad and you guys make up when you get back to your apartment

MasterList

PromptList

“Where are you going?”

Quinn’s voice stopped you from opening the front door. You turn around giving a sharp look at the man before you speak.

“I'm going out with friends” You simply stated 

“Seriously” You rolled your eyes mad that Quinn wanted to start this argument again. The team's new medical assistant has been all over Quinn lately. One night when he was hit in the nose with a puck, you went down to the medical office since they announced he wasn't going to be returning to the game.

But when you went down to the medical office you saw the new assistant talking to Quinn.You don't have a problem with her till you saw where her hand was. You couldn't figure out why she had her hand on your boyfriend's thigh when the problem was his nose.

“Quinn my friend invited me out to a bar ok, so i'm going because i'd rather be out with them then be here arguing with you” you stated 

“We don't have to argue it's not a big deal” he shrugged 

Now what Quinn said made you fume 

“Not a big deal” You repeated “Its a big deal that someone my boyfriend works with is fucking handsy”

“She’s not handsy y/n don't overreacted” He argued “She like that with everyone”

You were so hurt that Quinn couldn't see what you saw, if it was the other way around he’d be fuming. The fact he was sticking up for her when she wasn't even around made you so angry.

“I know for a fucking fact she not like that with everyone” You yelled takening a step forward “Because Ive asked Brock, because ive ask Petty and they all agree that she’s only like that with you!”

There a was beat of silence before Quinn spoke again and when he did, he spoke to calming for your liking 

“You asked my teammates”   

Your face heated up with embarrassment, you looked away ashamed that you even asked his teammates.

“God your so fucking Insecure” You heard Quinn mutter to himself, as he ran his hand threw his hair.

You stood there awkwardly not knowing what to say and clearly Quinn was done with this argument.

“Fine Quinn you win, i'm going out” You muttered leave out the front door. 

You thought going out with your friends would help you but as soon as you arrived with your friends it seemed like all they wanted to do was talk to some men at the bar. You and Quinn had sure gotten into a fight but you'd never cheat on him.

You were left all alone at the bar just scrolling through your phone with more alcohol in your system than you could handle.

Then someone sat down beside you. You looked up and saw a man sitting beside you, you gave him a smile of Acknowledgement but that was your first mistake.

“Sooo you here by yourself” he asked

You cringed at his basic line “No i'm here with some friends” you simply stated

“And these friends just left you all alone” he asked turning his bar stool to face you

You felt your body heat up in an uncomfortable way at his words and the alcohol probably wasn't helping either.

“I'm suree their a-around here somewhere” you tried not to slur but it was clear to the man that you were drunk.

“Maybe you and I could share couple drinks and see where this goes” You almost puked at the feeling of his hand on your thigh, you stumped out of your bar seat mumbling “I have a boyfriend”

“Yea but he’s at home right?” you heard the man's voice say as he followed you

“Leave me the fuck alone” you yelled caching the Attention of other people around you

The guy could clearly see that other people were watching you

“Fine I get fuck” he responed turning around and leaving you

Now with the night even more ruined you just wanted to go home but you didn't know where your friends were bad they weren't answering their phones. You stumbled outside and sat on a bench that was near the bar.

You did the only thing you could have done and that was call Quinn

You quickly found Quinn’s concat and pushed the call button. You knew it was almost 1 in the morning so he was probably sleeping.

“H-hello” You heard Quinn’s raspy voice on the other line proving you right that he was sleeping.

“Hiii Quinny” You smiled into the phone 

“Hi y/n whats up” He asked

“Sooo the girl’s are talking to some guys in the bar and I already have a guy at home, that being you an-” 

“You need me to pick you up?” he asked cutting you off 

“Yes” you mumbled 

You could hear shuffling on the other side of the line, knowing he was on way made you feel better.

“What bar are you guys at?” he asked grabbing his keys and heading out the door 

“I don't know” you respond laughing 

“Fuck just send your locashon, and Ill be there” he snapped back clearly still mad about the argument you both had before you felt.

His tone of voice and words whipped the smile right of your face, you quickly went and sent him your location.

“Thank you, I’ll be there soon” Was the last thing he said before he hung up.

You took a deep breath trying to keep your emotions at bay before your boyfriend came to pick you up. You just scrolled through tik tok like you've been doing all night.

It wasn't long till Quinn’s blue Toyota pulled up right in front of you. You smiled when you saw him to get out of the car, you quickly got up but stubbled making Quinn catch you. 

You laughed as he helped you into the car, you watched him hussle around to the driver side of the car.

“You came to get me” You smiled at him as you reached for one of his hands holding it.

“Mhm” he grumbled 

“Your mad” you said staring at him squeezing his hand

“A little” he responded, pulling his hand away from yours and placing it in the steering wheel.

“Quinny” you whined turning your body towards him “I'm sorry ok, I'm sorry I didn't know who else to call ok!” you signed “He just wouldn't leave me alone” you mumbled looking away

“What?” Quinn asked whipping his head towards you 

“This guy at the bar” You answered “I was at the bar and he wouldn't stop talking to me, i got him to go away, then I called you”

“Why were You by yourself” He asked a little to sharp for your liking 

“It wasn't like I wanted to be the girls ditched me like 20 minutes in” You snapped “He didn't really do anything, just put his hand on my thigh” you shrugged

“Y/n that's not nothing he touched you” He told pulling into your guy’s driveway “That's flirting”

“Oh so now having a hand on the thigh is important, fuck you Quinn” You fired at him trying  to open the car door but Quinn was to quick with the lock button “Unlock the door”

“Y/n your drunk if you get out you’ll fall” he stated unbuckling his seat belt 

You stayed quiet, still mad that Quinn couldn't see your point of view.

“And your right ok, I should have said something” He admitted 

“Yea you f-fucking shhould havee” you drunkly spat pulling on the door again.

“Y/n stop i'm trying to apologize” you turned back to face him.

Quinn felt horrible, he knew he was wrong and that he should have said something. He hated that he was snapping and petty. You called him because you felt unsafe and he was too focused on the argument that happened almost five hours ago.

“Im sorry ok” He sighed grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze “You were right, if it's what you want i’ll talk to coach and see if I can switch to the other medical supervisor” he compromised

“Yea that is what I fucking want” You still spat at him

Quinn took a deep breath knowing you were still mad, he gave your hand a final squeeze before he opened his door and walked around to your side.

He opened your door making the interior light switch on giving him a good look at your drunken state. He was too busy arguing so see that your hair was frizzy and your smudged make up. Quinn reached over and unbuckled your seat belt, he didn't look at him still a little hurt. 

You felt your hair be tucked back behind your ear and out of your face, you looked up at your boyfriend slightly squinting at the bright light. Quinn softly smiled at your cute drowsy state, cradling the side of your face with the inside of his palm.

“Come on baby, let get you to bed” He comforted 

You mumbled something in response that he couldn't understand. He helped you out of the car slowly not wanting you to fall,he had his arm around your waist and his other arm coming across to grab your hand leading you through the house and to your guide's shared bedroom.

You flopped down onto the bed with a groan, almost falling asleep till you heard Quinn’s voice.

“No no no Y/n not yet, you gotta stay up” He said, grabbing your arm pulling you back to standing in front of him, slightly swaying side to side.

“I wanna go to bed” You mumbled, with your eyes being closed you could hear Quinn moving around.

“I know, I know but you can't sleep in your clothes and makeup baby” He said

Baby

God you loved it when he took care of you. Sure you were still mad but all you wanted to do was touch him,hug him basically anything.

When you opened your eye’s Quinn had his back to you as he was going through your side of the closet looking for something you could wear to bed. He turned around holding a t-shirt and sweatpants in hand.

“Ok let's get you changed” He said stepping in front of you “take of your shirt”

You snickered a little at his choice of words, he smirked at your response 

“You know what I mean” He laughed as you grabbed the gem of your shirt but you struggled to get it over your head.

Quinn laughed more at you struggling, he helped you get it over your head just leaving you in  your bra. You un-clipped your bra leaving you now just in your jeans, even though you and Quinn have been together for more than a year he still tried to give you your Privacy and not look since you were still drunk and it made him feel wrong.

Quinn handed you one of his T-shirts and you tried to put it on but you struggled again to put it on.

“You need help huh?” he laughed

“Yes Quinn my tit’s are out, of course I need help” You snapped

Quinn threw his head back and laughed before he helped you put on the shirt.

“Yea laugh it up Hughes”

Quinn led you to sit down on the bed, he lent down to slip off your shoes and struggled to take your pants off. You were no help, lying limp on your back basically half asleep. Once he got them off he quickly grabbed some make-up whipp's from your bathroom, when he returned you were in the middle of crawling into the bed.

“Nope y/n we’re not done yet” he laughed trying to pull you to the side of the bed again

You light swatted him away trying to get comfortable “I wanna sleepppp” you whined 

“You need to take your make-up off and put the sweat-pants on” He told sitting on the side of the bed “I don't need pants i'm fine, just hurry up” you said turning your face to face him.

“So bossy” Quinn teased as he whipped your makeup off your face

#nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl angst #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader

[carakook]

Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°

“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”

→ Chapters list ←

⚘4. Spring Is Gone

🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

⚘Synopsis: After being granted with “closure”, you try to enjoy your last night with Jungkook. It’s an emotional and fucking steamy mess.

⚘Genre:Forbidden love

⚘Word count: 13K+ 🥴

⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of cheating, active cheating, HEAVY smut, mouth spitting, wine kissing (idk if it’s actually called this but it’s what I have always called it LMAO), crying during sex, emotional sex, EMOTIONAL EVERYTHING YOU WILL CRY I AM WARNING YOU, grief, breaking up (sort of?), panic/anxiety attacks, alcohol, stealing (lol it’s kinda cute you’ll see,) making love (different from fucking), sort of rough, unprotected sex (always be careful, Y/N is on BC!), SAD JUNGKOOK I REPEAT SAD JUNGKOOK!!!! let me know if I miss anything there is a lot in this chapter.

⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

⚘A/N: The long awaited chapter. This is a long one. I cried. A lot. Holy shit? It’s actually so sad lol but also has some good smut. This isn’t the last chapter, as I said before this is a full on fanfic, I also have it on Wattpad but it gets barely any reads so if you are interested in that let me know. After this chapter, things get very… drama filled? Idk a good word for it lol. I hope you enjoy, and I’m sorry in advance if you cry. I highly recommend listening to the songs, each of them have a place in every chapter which is why I list them lol. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy. Love you.❤️

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :

♪Merry Go - DPR Ian

♪Gimmie Love - Joji

♪The Astronaut - JIN

♪Dope Lovers - DPR Ian

♪sex money feelings die - Lykke Lie

♪Angel - The Weeknd

♪Nerves - DPR Ian

♪505 - Arctic Monkeys

♪I Love You So - The Walters

♪Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex

♪Cry - Cigarettes After Sex

✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧

Since you both agreed on enough of the heavy shit, you spend time together. The mood is heavy for some time, almost awkward, which is why you break out the several bottles of wine you bought this week in an attempt to cope with the end of you and your flower. You’d much rather drink it with him anyway.

You can always buy more.

The wine helps. After you’ve both had a glass, it feels less strained. You continue eating pizza and watching whatever sappy drama is on TV. He picks up on his rant, starts explaining how sex is definitely comparable to pizza; sex creates life, and without sex, we wouldn’t have discovered pizza. Makes total sense. It’s stupid, but he has a point—a very Jungkook thing to think up.

By the time you’re both three glasses deep, you’re a bit wine-drunk. He holds his liquor much better than you do, but you can tell he’s feeling all fuzzy inside. You check your phone as he sits sprawled out on your couch, taking up almost the entire damn thing with his bulky ass. It’s nearly 11:30 pm… around the time he should probably go home.

You glance at him, debating whether to subtly kick him out or not. You don’t want to, god no. It literally makes you sick thinking about it. But you shouldn’t let him stay either, should you? You’re supposed to end this. This was the last night.

But you see how content he looks—like a big, overgrown spoiled dog with a belly full of treats, relaxing next to his favorite person.

You did say one last night… technically the night isn’t over. And he shouldn’t drive in this state, really, if anything, it’s just for his safety…

So you nudge his leg with your foot, and he turns his head lazily towards you, arches a brow, “Hm?”

“Sleep over?”

Oh, he fucking grins. His dimples on show, his eyes crinkling up adorably, and his big bunny like teeth saying hi.

Because what you don’t realize is he wasn’t going to leave. Fuck no. You said one last night, and he was going to milk that for everything it was. No way in hell was he going to go home tonight. If he’s being frank, that’s why he drank three glasses of wine. He didn’t need it. But he knew he could use it as a loophole to staying the night. You wouldn’t let him drive drunk.

He knows damn well what he’s doing, and he’s elated that you offered to let him stay. It means you want him here.

Even after all the bullshit, you still want him here. You want to prolong it, too.

“Hell yeah.”

He winks and then leans up a bit to stretch, causing his shirt to lift and give you the most indulgent peak of his stomach. You shamelessly stare, and he absolutely notices, lifting his arms a bit higher just to give you a better look.

He loves it when you look at him like that.

But then he stands up, casually grabs his car keys from the coffee table, as if he isn’t fucking teasing you.

Fuck. The wine is definitely kicking in. The warm fuzzies in your tummy are spreading elsewhere.

“Gonna go grab some stuff from my car then, make sure it’s locked, I’ll be right back.”

You hum in response and lean back into the couch. Watch him as he walks out the door, and find comfort in the fact that you know he’s coming back… even if it’s the last time.

Jungkook is doing his best not to let his mind wander to the more damning thoughts as he walks out of your complex and into the parking lot. Because he feels the opposite, no comfort at all. His anxiety is spiked now that you’re out of sight. What if you don’t let him in when he makes his way back to you? What if you change your mind about the sleepover? What if you decide you hate him?

Not only that, but he feels like he’s wasting precious time. As if the five minutes he will be away from you (barely) are irreplaceable and he’s just wasting them. It’s literally the end of the world… he shouldn’t be wasting time.

But that’s just his anxiety speaking. In truth, he doesn’t actually need the things in his car… but he packed a few things before showing up unannounced—things he wanted to leave you with.

Such as the little Polaroid camera you bought for him months ago, one that you yourself have used every single time you’re together. You always snap little candid pictures of him, sometimes yourself. He finds your fascination with the thing so fucking cute. He uses it, too, of course. He often takes pictures of you without you even knowing it… and you’ve both definitely taken some more raunchy pictures, pictures that he keeps hidden away in a box for when he misses your touch. For his eyes only. They’re priceless to him, probably some of his most prized possessions.

Speaking of those photos, he also packed a box full of them just for you. Pictures you’ve taken of him, of both of you, of anything and everything. He wants you to have them, wants you to be able to look at them when you miss him a little too much. He went through the photos over the last few days of no contact, greedily picked out his favorites, and put them into his own box for the same purpose. But he picked a generous amount out for you, too.

And as corny as it may sound, he packed a few pieces of his clothing. He knows how much you love stealing his shit, especially his shirts. Several are still missing, but he won’t ask for them back. He’Ll gift you with more, made sure to spray his cologne on them too, so that you can smell him on them. He packed his favorite shirt, hoodie, and something he will reluctantly, but willingly, part with. His denim jacket.

All of them are Calvin Klein branded. The shirt is basic, just a black shirt that’s fitted on him but swallows you whole. It’s the one you often steal when you sleep over at his second apartment, but he never let you take it home because it was his favorite. It’s worn in and soft, that’s why he likes it. But it’s yours now, just like him.

The hoodie is the same, basic black, one that you always tried to steal but never succeeded in doing so. It’ll be like a warm hug when you miss him, he thinks. You’ll love it more than he will. You’ll need it more than him on nights that you feel lonely.

The jean jacket isn’t anything special in appearance. It’s dark denim but is lined in that soft wool that keeps you warm and cozy. He wore it often in the cold months, thought it made him look handsome, but also kept him comfy. He’d rather you have it. He wants to keep you warm forever, hold you in his arms and never let go, make sure you never feel cold again… but he can’t exactly do that. So instead, he’ll give you his jacket.

The last thing is one of his chains. God, he knows you love those damn chains. He almost always wears one, silver or gold, depending on the day. And you always make sure to tell him how much you like them. He never really understood it; it’s something so simple. But you swooned for it. After you guys fuck, you’re always touching it, playing with it. Even when you guys aren’t fucking, you seem to have the impulse to touch it. Maybe it’s a girl thing, he doesn’t know. But he’s giving you one since you liked it so much.

Definitely a girl thing.

He also brought the bottle of perfume you dropped on his floor that night you stormed off… he was going to give it back. Return it to its rightful owner. But as he’s grabbing the bag full of goods out of his car… he impulsively takes it out. Wants to keep it. Wants to be able to smell you, too. He’s sure you won’t miss it.

You won’t miss that perfume as much as he’s going to miss you.

He quickly grabs the bag of stuff, nearly dropping it as he grows more restless because he’s not with you right now. You’re too far away, and every single second counts tonight.

So he rushes back into your complex building, nearly full-on sprinting back to your door.

As he lets himself back in, you’re in the exact same position. Sitting comfy on the couch, eyes on the TV, your wine glass a bit more empty now. Thank fuck.

He wasn’t even gone for more than four minutes. And yes, you did notice, you didn’t like it. But you knew he’d come back. So you waited. Wasn’t a big deal.

He’s just dramatic, for good reason of course. You can see the unease written all over his face as he pads his way back towards you, sets the bag next to your couch. He doesn’t disclose what’s in it and you don’t ask, you just assume it’s the bag he usually keeps in his car for impromptu nights like this.

He doesn’t want to present these little gifts to you yet… because he feels like that’s what’s going to really finalize it. So he’ll wait a little longer.

Would put it off forever if he could.

He takes a seat next to you, obnoxiously close. Your couch isn’t big, but there’s enough for two people to have a comfortable distance from each other. He doesn’t care. He wants to make sure he’s touching you in some way, so he nearly squishes you as he sits down as casually as ever and slings one of his arms on the back of your couch so that his fingertips rest on your shoulder.

He has an almost jittery energy about him right now. Obviously, emotions are heavy; it’s your last night together. It’s kind of hard to act totally ok and normal when you’re both well aware that this is the last night. But even then, somethings a bit off.

You study him for a moment, notice how he’s running his teeth over his lip ring again, how his leg is bouncing up and down a bit even as he tries to mimic a relaxed position on the couch. Maybe he’s anxious?

He is. However, that’s not what this is all about. He wants to kiss and touch you so badly it hurts. But now he’s unsure if he’s allowed. He doesn’t know what’s on and off limits tonight, and he doesn’t want to jeopardize your time together by fucking it up and making unwanted advances.

Overthinking. He wishes he didn’t do that. But he doesn’t even realize it’s happening until after things are said and done, doesn’t know how to stop it.

You assume maybe it’s just nervous energy thanks to the impending sense of doom you both feel. You feel similarly… but you hide it better.

More wine would help, you think.

So you lean forward and grab the bottle which is half empty, this is the second bottle of tonight. You top off each of your glasses as Jungkook watches, and you take a sip.

His eyes stay glued to your lips. He loves your lips. Loves all of you, but especially your lips. He thinks that will be one of the things he misses the most. How soft and pillowy they are, how they’re a bit rosey in color, how they taste, how they pout out a bit when you drink wine, how wine stains your lips so prettily, how they feel wrapped around his—

Yeah. Fuck it. One last night.

“Gimmie some.”

You glance at him and arch a brow, wonder if he’s referring to the wine… or maybe pizza? You literally just topped his wine glass off. He’s being weird.

“I just topped you off?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, I want yours.”

You scoff at him because now he’s just being childish. But he’s looking at you so expectantly, almost stubbornly, as if he’s asking for something more than the wine he’s demanding.

And he is. He doesn’t even really know what though. He’s being greedy, wants your wine because your lips touched the glass, because remnants of your spit might have melted into the wine after taking sips. He doesn’t want his own damn wine.

He wants to be greedy tonight. It’s not like he has anything to lose, he’s already lost it all.

So he reaches over and takes the wine glass from you, gets a bit impatient when he sees you aren’t gonna give it to him right away. He takes a slow sip, places his lips in the same exact spot yours have been every time you’ve taken a drink. It’s ridiculous, really… but he swears he tastes the faintest essence of you on the glass. Closes his eyes, swishes the wine around in his mouth, trying to see if he can taste more of you…

Ok, so, he’s definitely being a bit ridiculous. But fuck, he already feels like he’s going crazy. Can’t really help himself when he is desperately craving any little crumb of you.

You don’t know what to make of this. Part of you is amused, part of you is irritated, because he just stole your damn wine. But you also know there must be more to it, there has to be.

He cracks an eye open, sees you staring at him like he’s crazy, because he kinda is. Only for you, of course. He just swallows the wine and shrugs innocently.

“Yours is better, mine tastes weird.”

You roll your eyes at him because he has the same wine as you do. You can’t figure out what his game is here. So you reach over and take his wine and say, “Yours is literally the same as mine.”

To prove a point you take a sip of his. Just as expected, tastes the exact same as yours. He watches you carefully… gets an idea. An incredibly impulsive,almost intrusive idea.

But again… it’s the last night. And he’s greedy.

You huff at him and point his wine glass (which is now yours apparently) at him as you watch him take a huge gulp out of your glass again.

“Yeah, see, tastes the exact-“

He abruptly grabs the nape of your neck and cups your jaw with his free hand, his thumb coming to rest on your bottom lip and lowering it. He places his lips on yours, waits until your mouth instinctively opens just as it always does for him, and then funnels the wine into your mouth.

Fucking feeding you the wine like a baby bird.

It catches you by surprise at first, causing you to cough a bit and causing the wine to dribble down your chin, but you quickly gulp it down just like he gulps down the little gasp and cough you let out. He kisses you greedily, doesn’t even build up to it before he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth and swirling it against yours, tasting the heady mixture of wine and you. Fuck, you’re his favorite taste.

You don’t protest; of course you don’t. Was definitely a bit bizarre, but also… fuck, that was hot. Was a bit weird but in a super sexy way. You kiss him back, letting out little huffs of air into his mouth as one of your hands also finds the nape of his neck. The other hand automatically rests against his chest, clings to the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You both stay like this as long as possible. The kiss only grows more desperate and aggressive, teeth and tongue clashing beautifully together like thunder and rain. Your soft pants turn into eager breathes at some point, and he knows you need to breathe. But fuck, he wants to stay lip locked with you until he passes out.

This is when you start to second-guess things. Yes, this is the last night together… but knowing it’s ending makes the guilt a bit more prominent. This wouldn’t be ending if it wasn’t wrong, but it is wrong; sleeping with him again just seems so contradictory or maybe even hypocritical.

So you push at his chest lightly, a silent signal for him to slow down. God, he hates the way his stomach lurches. Can’t fathom the idea that you might kick him out right now. Please, god, don’t do this. I’m not a weed, I swear, I’m her fucking flower. I need her one more time, he silently prays even though he’s never been religious or prayed before.

When he pulls back with heavily lidded eyes, you speak up hesitantly, even though you don’t wanna stop, god not at all.

“Kook, we shouldn’t…”

That’s all you say. Because it’s really that simple. You shouldn’t be doing this; you should never have done it at all. But even then, you lack the ability to convince him. Because you want him, one last time. You’re just having a hard time willingly giving in again.

Jungkook knows you well. Knows your body language. He knows that if you truly wanted him to stop, you would’ve been more self assured when speaking. You wouldn’t sound like a meek little mouse, you’d be firm in telling him know. He can see the same thing in your eyes, it’s pure unadulterated want. But maybe you need reassurance, reassurance that one last time is ok, is needed.

You’ve both sinned so much already, one more time won’t change shit.

So his grasp on your jaw firms up a bit, he starts feeling a little too passionate about this. He coaxes your mouth open by smooshing your cheeks a bit before saying,

“Y/N, fucking don’t. Just let us have this, please.”

“But Kook-“

He grunts in frustration. Just as impulsively as he fed you wine kisses, he spits in your mouth. It makes you flinch, makes your pussy clench because fuck it’s so filthy but so hot. So intimate in a sort of fucked up way.

“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”

He leans back down and starts kissing you again, licking into your mouth and adding more to the spit he put there moments ago. Doesn’t even give you a chance to protest. He kisses you like he’s going to die if he doesn’t. He’s sure he will. He’ll die a miserable death if he doesn’t love you one more time.

It's a bit harsh, but you know each other enough to know he isn’t trying to be forceful or rude; he’s just desperate. You are too, honestly. You know damn well if you said no and meant it, he would pull away and stop immediately. Your body has always been safest with him. You don’t want to stop, not really. You’re thankful he’s being like this. It’s the push you need to ignore the guilt for a while longer and share your body with him one last time.

When he feels that you’ve melted into him, with no more tension or hesitancy in your body, he pulls away, nipping at your lower lip once and then sucking on it. Then his lips travel down, and he licks the wine staining your chin off before placing sloppy kisses down your neck.

He doesn’t even ask before he starts sucking and licking on your sensitive skin. Not kitten licks, not gentle sucks, no, he’s full-on giving you hickeys, and you know it. You know it’s intentional when you feel him pull back a bit to take a peak, only to lean back in a second later and bite.

The hand on his nape fists into his hair, and your back arches a bit, causing your chest to push against his chest, “Fuck, Kook…”

You should tell him to stop marking you up like this. You don’t like showing up to work or visiting friends with visible hickeys because questions get asked. And as much as you wish you could admit who they’re from, you can’t. No one knows about Jungkook. No one even knows you’re seeing someone right now, and you don’t want to have to come up with some story to cover your ass.

It’s a secret for you too.

But it’s the last night together… and the idea of having his hickeys on your neck, just to remind you a little longer that this was real, he was real, it’s an idea you quite like. Fucking love, actually.

He grunts at you, bites down a little harder, “What? Told you your wine was better…”

You let out a little breathy laugh when he says this, because of course he would play it coy, as if he didn’t just randomly start devouring you. Of course he’d blame it on the damn wine.

That breathy laugh quickly turns into a moan when one of his hands finds your tit, he starts squeezing and groping it through your shirt shamelessly, tweaking your nipple in the way he knows you love. God, he loves your tits. They’re the perfect size for him, he swears. They fit into his palm perfectly, feel like pillows, just like your lips. All of you is just so soft.

He kisses his way down your neck now that it’s all marked up in pretty purple and pink bruises blossoming, much like you do every single time he touches you like this. When he gets to your chest, he looks up at you through his lashes, and then he nearly rips your shirt off of you when he pulls it down.

His eyes leave yours as he looks down at the beautiful pillows on your chest. He just admires them for a moment, as if he’s at an art gallery studying each piece of art. That’s what you are, art. Everything about you inside out is otherworldly beautiful to him, tits included.

At this point, you’re lying down on your couch, legs parted for him. It’s a bit awkward because of how small the couch is, but that doesn’t stop either of you. He doesn’t give a fuck that he barely fits. He’ll make himself fit… just like he’s made himself fit into your life for months.

He wants to fit into your life just one more time, one more night, wants to meld together and tangle your roots so that it’s impossible to untangle them. He knows it’s wishful thinking, but that’s where this is all coming from. He’s not being aggressive and eager and greedy just because he’s horny, no, he’s doing this because maybe, just maybe, if he shows you with his body how much he loves you… how much he needs you… you’ll change your mind one day.

His mouth descends on your left breast, and he starts licking and sucking on your nipple. Your eyes roll back, and your entire body shudders at the sensations, fuck, it always feels like the first time. Before him, men didn’t pay such close attention to your body. Never even had a guy play with your tits before, Jungkook was the first. It was so odd at first, but it quickly became one of your favorite things. Makes you get so wet so fast.

You love how he looks up at you when he does it, his eyes full of asters and stars alike, hearts and moons, lust mixed with love and it’s a dizzying sight. You wonder if this is how you look when you go down on him, if that’s why it unravels him so quickly. You’d understand if so, you wish so badly you could snap a picture of him like this and preserve it.

It’s funny because he’s thinking the same thing. How beautiful you look when he goes down on you, how your eyes mimic his own, and how you have a hard time controlling your facial expressions when the pleasure is too intense. His favorite thing is when you start furrowing your brows and almost pouting at him without realizing it; the little pants and mewls you let out without meaning to, it drives him absolutely insane.

He wants to capture it, too. Fuck, tonight is a night to remember, he wants everything solidified in film. Every single kiss and touch and whisper spoken tonight, he needs to preserve it.

He sucks on your nipple for a few more seconds, his other hand flicking the nipple on your right breast. Wants to get you all worked up for him. he then pulls back, letting go of your tit with a wet pop sound. Lets his hands rest on your thighs and rubs his palms up and down them as he takes you in.

You let out a little whine when he pulls away, but you don’t protest. His pupils dilate heavily as he looks down at you because, holy fuck, you’ve never let him mark you up like this. He doesn’t even like giving hickeys, thinks it’s a bit immature, something meant for college. But seeing you blooming pink and purple from your neck down to your pretty tits? It makes his cock twitch hard in his sweats.

He removes one hand from your thigh, and reaches down to palm himself through his sweats. He squeezes his cock as he takes in your already debauched look. Marked up, tits out, lips swollen, eyes heavy… fuck. You may be what kills him, not heart break.

One last squeeze to his cock to relieve a bit of the pressure, and he lets go of it. He knows you’re getting a bit impatient by how you’re shifting in your spot, but you know he wants to take his time tonight. So you don’t say anything, no matter how much you wanna beg for his dick or his mouth.

He leans over the couch to unzip the bag he brought, grabs the Polaroid, and then readjusts himself between your legs. He sets the camera down on your stomach and brings his hands back to where your thighs are spread prettily for him.

You arch a brow, and he gives you a little smile. He still looks a bit fucked, his eyes black with want and his cock literally tenting his sweats. The smile is much too sweet for what you’re both doing.

“Take as many pictures as you want, there’s a full roll of film in there. Can keep ‘em for when you miss me.”

Now is not the time to cry. Fuck.

You nod at him, grab the camera and keep it close. You wonder if he planned this or if it was a coincidence that it was in his bag. Regardless, you’re thankful. Elated even, that he’s going to let you capture this and preserve it for those nights you doubt he was ever even real. There's no time to be sad now; you can grieve him when he’s gone.

He flicks his tongue over his lip ring as he looks down at you again, there’s so much that he wants to do tonight, but he knows damn well the moment his cock so as much touches you, he’s going to lose control. He needs to lavish you with love and attention first before even thinking of himself.

He grabs the hem of your shirt, gently pulls it over your head. You lay pliant, let him take the lead and do whatever he wants. God, anything for him as long as he keeps looking at you like that, like you’re the reason he breathes.

Next he takes off the pajama shorts you had on, slowly fumbling with them because of the awkward position on the couch. It makes you giggle at him, which makes him giggle at you. Now that you’re both a bit calmed down, not quite as worked up, you realize maybe the couch isn’t the most practical place.

Even then, you take the Polaroid and snap a picture, capturing his bashful smile on camera as he tosses your shorts away. He doesn’t protest; he lets you. Watches as you take the photo it spits out and stare at it lovingly before setting it on the coffee table.

His hands are on your thighs again, and despite the fact you’re nearly butt naked now, his eyes stay steady on your face. He reaches forward, grabs the camera from you, and snaps his photo of you. He focuses the Polaroid specifically on your neck to capture the hickies he left, wants to remember you marked as his. He retrieves the photo after the camera spits it out. He doesn’t look at it yet; just tosses it inside of his bag next to the couch.

At your huff and shy little glare you send him, he chuckles, hands you back the camera, and before you can scold him, he lightly swats your thigh. Then he gets off the couch and picks you up bridal style.

It’s hard to be mad at him when he makes you feel like a princess. You don’t actually mind that he took the picture, as embarrassing as it feels. You know it’ll be for his eyes only.

He easily carries you into your bedroom, kicks the door open, and deposits you on your bed. Wasted no time before he’s taking off his shirt and sweats, and fuck, you swear he’s a Greek god. Perfect, in every way. You could drool every damn time you see any bit of his skin. His broad shoulders, his tiny waist, his subtle and toned thighs, it’s a lethal combination. Any woman who sees him like this surely could keel over at how beautiful he is, how sexy he is.

He gets on the bed with you, and you set the camera on the pillow next to your head. He settles between your thighs once more. He can feel himself starting to get impatient now that you’re both in only your underwear; his cock is still hard. Only getting harder as he stares down at you, looking at how pretty you look with your hard nipples glistening with his spit and your soft thighs spread just for him.

He descends, placing open-mouthed kisses on your tummy. Your hands come to rest in his hair as they’ve done many times because you know you’ll need to hang on. You know where this leads, and anytime he eats you out, it’s an out-of-body experience. The things this man’s mouth can do are unholy, but still feel like heaven.

His eyes stay on you as he kisses his way down to your thighs. He nips at them lightly, causing you to whine. He covers your lower half in kisses, not missing a single ounce of your skin as he lavishes your inner thighs with sweet little declarations of love that just aren’t enough.

You lift your hips ever so slightly, tug on his hair a bit, send him a silent message that says please fucking put your mouth on me before I explode.

He smirks against your skin, looks up at you as he trails his lips upward, “Just feel it, baby, let me love on you.”

You want to roll your eyes at this, but don’t say anything. Just try to regulate your breathing. You know he’s wanting to savor it, savor you. He has every right to.

But he knows what you need; can tell by the way you’re scratching his scalp that you’re itching to feel his mouth on you. And if he’s being honest, he’s growing a bit impatient, too.

So he finally trails his lips past your thighs, onto the mound of your cunt which is still covered by your panties. The moment he sees the wet spot seeping through, smells your arousal, his patience disappears. Suddenly, he’s fucking starving.

He doesn’t even take your panties off before he starts kissing your cunt, sucking on your clit through the fabric. The feeling makes your body nearly jolt, your hips bucking into his face as you tug on his hair and let out an incredibly strained moan. Fuck. So much for taking it slow and dragging it out.

He becomes a man possessed once he tastes you. He’s letting out grunts as he borderline makes out with your panties, suckling the fabric to get every drop of your essence off of them and onto his tongue. It’s genuinely filthy, debauched, but god, it’s hot.

He leans back with flared nostrils and glistening lips, looking like he’s wearing lipgloss. Made specially by you, of course. He nearly rips your panties off and throws them into the pile containing his clothes at the end of the bed.

A coincidence, he tells himself. He’s totally not planning on ‘accidentally’ taking them home with him… not at all.

He leans back down, grabs your thighs, and props them over his shoulders as he maneuvers himself to lay flat on his stomach on the bed, his knees keeping him steady as he presses his face into your pussy.

He inhales you, takes in your scent. So musky and pretty, so uniquely you. He wishes he could bottle it up and wear it as a fucking cologne. He rubs his nose around in it, nudging your clit back and forth, almost as if he’s motor-boating you but instead of your tits, it’s your cunt.

God, it’s lewd. But he can’t get enough.

You already feel yourself becoming a little too turned on but wanna capture this moment. Wanna preserve how fucked he looks when he does shit like this, only ever for you. So you grab the Polaroid with one shakey hand that leaves his hair, and you snap a quick photo. It comes out a bit blurry, but you don’t mind. You place the camera back on the pillow alongside the fresh photo and have to double down on gripping his hair because, holy fuck, this feels so good.

His tongue finds your entrance and starts licking inside, trying to get every last drop of your cream greedily into his mouth. He uses his nose to stimulate your clit, one of the perks of having a big nose. He’s grunting as he licks into your cunt, almost sounds feral doing so. He doesn't even recognize his own voice with the damn noises he's making.

As much as you don’t want to admit it, watching this all unfold has you dangerously close already. Your thighs are quivering on his shoulders, and your toes are curling along his back. The way he’s breathing into your pussy, sucking and licking and nudging it with his nose, fuck, it has you a mess. The noises you’re making you can’t control; you’re starting to sound just as feral as him.

“Mmmph… Koo… gonna cum soon, slow down…”

You babble at him. You wanna cum so bad, but you also don’t want it to stop so soon. If you had one wish at this very moment, it would be that he does this forever. He looks so lovely in between your thighs, licking and sucking you up as if it’s his last meal.

Because it is his last meal. After this night, he’s gonna be starving for eternity without you.

He huffs out a little laugh against your clit, the hot air causing your back to arch and fingers to tighten in his hair; if he doesn’t ease up, your thighs are surely going to crush his damn head.

“Cum then. Fucking give it to me, Y/N. Let me earn it.”

He nearly growls at you before he dives back in with renewed vigor. He replaces his tongue, which was deep in your cunt, with his fingers. He uses his mouth now to suck on your clit. As you look down at him, you’d swear he was kissing it, making out with it, making love with his fucking mouth. The added pressure of two of his long fingers crooking inside of you is quickly bringing you to your end.

But what nearly makes you cum on the spot is the way he starts fucking humping the bed. Acting like a virgin humping a pillow, he moves his hips back and forth on the mattress just for some sort of stimulation to his cock because it started getting so hard it was damn near painful.

He knows how desperate he looks but doesn’t care. Clearly, you enjoy it, judging by the way you start panting, and your pussy starts pulsating and tightening around his fingers. They fuck into you harder, rubbing up against the spongy flesh inside, all while he makes out with your clit.

His eyes open to meet yours, and you’re done for. Seeing that desperation and love in his eyes mixed with the fact he’s fucking humping your bed makes your pussy throb. You begin cumming hard, tugging on his hair as your thighs clasp around his head. He damn near whines into your cunt, the noise only causing vibrations to make it so much more intense for you.

“Nnngh oh shit! Fuck, oh fuck Koo… oh my god, shiiit…”

Your hips buck up into his mouth eagerly; you can’t even control it. Your feet planted on his back, toes curling, thighs trembling around his face, and your face scrunched up in pleasure. You see stars- no- you see an entire fucking galaxy as you cum all over his face. Full of stars, moons, planets, gardens, all of which are full of him and every single fiber of his being.

All for him, just as he is all for you.

He fucks you through it, does his best to prolong it, but he knows he’ll make you cum again on his cock. He is aching to be buried inside of you. He wants to make love to you, not fuck you, he wants to meld your bodies together and become one tonight.

After what feels like forever, your body relaxes, and the spasming of your clit dies down, causing it to become sensitive. He can tell by the way your legs shake and your body jolts when he applies too much pressure with his tongue.

He reluctantly pulls back, licking your juices off of his lips before placing little kisses all over your thighs and pelvis. He looks fucked, his nose and his lips are glistening obscenely in the dim lighting, and his eyes don’t look brown anymore but black.

When your eyes travel downward, you whine at him. His cock is nearly tearing through his underwear, which you now realize he’s wearing your fav, the purple CK’s. There’s a little stain where the head of his cock presses, so much precum, all for you.

He looks down where your eyes are trained, and he snorts at himself. Jesus fuck, he really is acting like a desperate teenager, isn’t he? But he can’t find himself giving a shit. He wants you to know how desperate and unhinged you make him. He can’t say he’s ever been so horny he borderline fucked a mattress, not until now. And it’s all because of you.

He takes off his underwear with shaky hands and tosses them somewhere in your room. Then he settles between your legs again, rubbing up and down your thighs as he takes you in as if it’s the first time.

Your hands come up to his chest, scraping your nails down it slowly, which earns you the most beautiful groan from his lips. He bites down on them, and his cock jumps upward, begging to be touched. So you trail your hands lower until you find his aching length and take it into your hand, start stroking him lazily.

His breathing becomes labored, and his eyes flutter shut. Even just your hand feels so fucking good. His hips jerk forward, seeking more stimulation. Fuck, he can’t get enough.

One of his hands remains on your thigh while the other reaches for the camera. He boldly angles it directly at your cunt, snaps a photo of it, making sure to capture the way your slick folds glisten in the light, along with all of the purple flowers blossoming on your thighs. His tattooed hand is barely in the shot but is visible enough to make it clear it is him in this photo.

He tosses the photo in the same pile his clothes and your panties lay next to the bed, and then angles the camera towards your face and body to take another. He thinks you’re so pretty like this. Cheeks flushed, lips puffy because you always bite them right before you cum, eyes bright with afterglow. You look like an Angel, especially in this moment.

He’s sure you’re an Angel sent from the God he doesn't even believe in.

He snaps another photo and tries to steady his shaky hands because the way you’re stroking his cock feels borderline painful. Too slow; he needs more. Beads of precum drip down his cock as if it’s crying. It may as well be crying for you.

He quickly takes the photo, tosses it in the same pile, and then does the same with the camera without thinking. Is getting way too worked up with how you’re stroking his dick and looking at him like a Greek god.

Because he is one. You’ll say it time and time again.

He leans over your body and settles in between your legs. You remove your hand and wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your fingers in his hair again. He grinds his cock onto your pussy, coating it in the remnants of your cum and juices, and starts kissing you slowly.

The kiss isn’t like the one with wine; this one is sweet, loving, still desperate, but more patient. His lips work with you in unison, your puzzle pieces coming together once more. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it makes you moan into his mouth, which causes his cock to twitch against your pussy. God, he loves the sounds that you make. Music to his ears, he’d play it on repeat if he could.

He slowly drags the tip of his cock down to your entrance which is well prepared for him, and even more slowly starts thrusting inside of you. He wants to feel you deeply, feel every ripple and ridge of your pussy, every pulse and throb. He wants to catalog it and replay it over and over in his head for when he misses you.

Jungkook is definitely gifted when it comes to his manhood. It’s not too long, a good seven and a half inches, but fuck he’s so girthy. When you first fucked him, you could barely handle how thick he was. Nowadays, you can absolutely handle it, but that first push always gets you fucking squirming. The pressure and stretch are nothing like you’ve ever felt before.

You let out a stuttered gasp into his mouth when he buries himself to the hilt, his balls flush against your ass, and he stays there for a moment so that you can adjust. You break the kiss, wincing a bit as you turn your face to try and hide the way it scrunches up as it always does the first few moments he’s inside of you.

He doesn’t like that. Not at all.

He pulls his face back from yours and steadies himself on his elbow as one of his hands comes up to grip your jaw. He turns your face towards him, doesn’t let you look away or try to hide.

“Uh-uh, you look at me when I fuck you. I wanna see every single detail of your pretty face if this is the last time I get you like this.”

You whine at him, your eyes fluttering shut and cheeks warming. For some reason, that’s embarrassing, like being called out for talking in class or some shit. But even then, your pussy clenches around his cock, because you love it when he takes control like that, when he makes it clear what he wants.

He shakes your jaw a bit when he notices you closing your eyes, causing them to open instinctively. He looks just as fucked as you do, his nostrils are flared, and he’s sweating slightly, clearly holding back.

“Eyes on me, Y/N. Don’t you fucking dare look away. Look me in my eyes while I make love to you.”

Fuck. It takes every single bit of strength you possess not to cry. There he goes, voicing the fact that tonight isn’t going to be some hard fuck. It’s making love.

That terrifies you.

Making love is something entirely different compared to fucking. Some people disagree, but you don’t. Fucking is mindless, meant for pleasure and pleasure alone. Sometimes, there's intimacy after, but it’s mostly just sex. Making love, of course, comes with pleasure, but that’s not its purpose. Its purpose is to come together with your partner, show each other how much you love them, let all of your emotions run wild and free while sharing the most intimate parts of your body together.

Fucking is like buying a bouquet of roses. You get to see them, water them, keep them on display, but the joy dies quickly because the roses die, too.

Making love is like growing a garden of roses. You can’t make love until you grow that love with someone; nurture it, watch it morph and evolve. And then the flowers bloom. The love bursts, the petals are vibrant in colors made up of you and your partner.

Both are lovely. Everyone loves buying a bouquet of roses, but few get to experience growing their own.

You’ve never made love. Tonight will be the first time.

And it will probably be the last.

You nod at Jungkook stupidly, keeping your eyes on his just as he asked you to. Once he sees your eyes remaining on him, he starts slowly moving his hips. His cock slides in and out of you, your arousal can clearly be heard by the noises your cream coating his cock every time he slides in and out makes. It’s beautiful.

This is beautiful… and so goddamn tragic.

He’s also fighting tears. Because, unlike you, he has made love before… or thought he did. He swore on his wedding night he made love to his wife, but it was nothing like this. You’ve barely even started, and he can feel the stark difference. God, it makes him question fucking everything. He never felt this way with his wife, with anyone, only ever with you.

But now isn’t the time to think of such things, to dissect the fact that maybe what he had with his wife was never actually love, but comfort. Now is the time to share your love together, one last time.

He starts moving his hips a bit faster. His arms reach under your body and wrap around you, trying to get as close as humanly possible. He rests his forehead on yours, keeps his eyes on yours, too. He starts panting, is fighting back tears. He is trying so hard not to cry right now.

“I love you.”

Fuck.

You let out another stuttered breath, and then your breathing picks up entirely as you fight back tears. Your arms are wrapped around him now, nails digging into his back like you’re afraid he will float away. Because you are, you’re so scared that if you let go, he will disappear. You don’t want him to disappear.

He starts pounding a bit deeper, grunting with each deep thrust as he grits out again,

“I love you.”

Fuck he needs to stop.

“Jungkook— nngh… don’t…”

He shakes his head, his breathing heavier, and his thrusts bordering on aggressive now. That’s not abnormal for him; sex with you both is regularly rough. But this is so different. It isn’t the dominating kind of aggressive but desperate, full of passion and love and grief.

“No, Y/N, look at me. I love you. I fucking love you so much, Y/N. I love you.”

And you break.

Crying for you also isn’t abnormal during sex with him specifically. It’s always intense, so sometimes you cry. Not out of sadness or pain; it just happens sometimes. He came to learn that quickly.

But just like how he’s making love to you, these tears are different. You’re weeping for the loss of your lover, but also because you are still so full of love for him. You’re crying because for the first time since this mess started between you, you believe him when he says he loves you. Deep down in your core, in every single crack and crevice of your being, you feel his love for you.

You see it in his eyes as he looks at you, you feel it in the way he touches and kisses you, you hear it in the way he speaks to you when he says it. He loves you so fucking much, and you regret refusing to see it until your last night together. You wish so badly you could have savored his love more seriously rather than deny yourself of it.

You wish things were different.

So you cry for him. The moment the first tear falls, you don’t hold back. You let out something between a moan and a sob as he fucks his cock into you, and his hips stutter when he realizes you’re crying. He didn’t want you to cry, fuck, he doesn’t think he can handle that right now without crying himself. He just wanted you to know, needed you to know that you are loved by him. So fucking loved.

He keeps his eyes on yours, watches the tears fall. He tilts his head slightly and starts kissing the tears away, even as they continue to fall. Greedily kisses them away because they are for him. This will be the last time you water his fully bloomed flower, so he will be greedy. Because he knows that after this, his flower will wilt away, maybe he will, too. So he lets you cry and he kisses and fucks you through it.

He feels himself getting close, his cock starting to twitch and his hips grinding harder into your pelvis. He feels you getting close, too, the way your cunt starts pulsing in rhythm with his cock. You’ve never come at the same time before. He hopes that tonight, he can make it happen.

“Fuck, you feel like home… I love you so much…”

A strangled sob escapes your throat at his words. It’s like he can’t stop saying it, can’t get the words out of his mouth enough. You’ve yet to say it back because you’re afraid his glittery eyes will water, too. But god, you need him to know.

“I love you too, Koo… more than anything…”

And you were right. Hearing you say it amidst your tears, combined with the way your pussy starts rippling around his cock, throbbing and clenching directly after you say it, it’s too much.

He cries. Tries to hide it with a moan, but it’s no use because his tears fall onto your cheeks. You both start crying harder, and he starts fucking you faster. His arms tighten around your waist, and he starts kissing you. Lets you taste your melded tears, his sorrow, his devotion, his love all poured out into this kiss and his tears.

You both water each others flower for the last time.

You feel the familiar pressure building as you kiss him back, your tears mixing with his, the taste addicting. You hate seeing him cry; you know it’s going to haunt you for weeks. But right now, you’re consumed with wanting to be as close to him as possible, and you want to share this moment with him.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and your hips start matching his thrusts. The kiss turns a bit sloppy and uncoordinated because he’s very clearly about to cum; you can feel his cock start twitching and pulsing aggressively inside of you.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you. I. Love. You.”

He groans loudly, his voice sounds strained and distraught. “Come with me.”

You assume he means he wants you to cum at the same time as him. He wants you to cum together, which is definitely going to happen; you feel the string about to snap on both sides.

But really, it had dual meaning. Cum with me, but also come with me. Anywhere, everywhere, please run away with me, please love me forever and ever, please save a piece of your heart for me, please don’t stay away from me forever.

One last thrust and his pelvis grinds into yours as his balls draw up taught. He whimpers into your mouth, and his pelvis grinding into you, mixed with how fucking deep his cock is inside of you, is enough stimulation to your clit to cause you to hurl over the edge a second time. You cream all over his dick, your hips writhing beneath him as you whine and moan into his mouth. His cock jerks hard inside of you, shooting hot ropes of cum that seem endless. Your souls meld together much like your tears do, and you both cum harder than you ever have.

It’s like, in this moment, you are one. You both share a garden, flowers at full bloom, no pesky cages or fences to hinder you from flourishing together. There’s sunlight, and bees, and soil, and plenty of water. It’s peaceful, it’s heaven, it’s home. It’s where you both swear you belong.

Both of your orgasms seem to last eternally. It’s endless, his cock jerking and spurting in rhythm to the way your pussy milks him and pulses around him. He stays buried to the hilt until his cock tires out and your pussy stops milking him.

Even after, he stays like this. You both say nothing as you silently cry together, still connected intimately as you share little kisses between tears.

You made love. He made love to you.

You know damn well you’re ruined for any other man going forward after that.

He exhales a shaky breath and starts peppering your face with little kisses. Despite the tears, he feels lighter than before. There’s still that impending sense of doom, but he knows in his heart that you know he loves you now. That’s all he wanted from tonight…

And despite the sex being pretty vanilla compared to what you usually do, Jesus fuck, that was the best sex he’s ever had.

As he attempts to kiss all of your tears away, he starts whispering the sweetest shit to you, even as he continues crying.

“My baby…”

Kiss.

“My love…”

Kiss.

“My pretty girl…”

Kiss.

“My angel…”

Kiss.

“My heart…”

Kiss.

“My soul…”

Kiss.

“My fucking everything…”

Kiss, kiss, kiss.

Fuck, it makes you swoon hearing all of those sweet words. Not sweet nothings, but sweet declarations. Pure truth. You are and have been his everything despite how fucked up it all is.

You always will be. Fucking always.

You cry a bit harder, nearly blubbering now. He keeps crying, too, not quite as hard as you because he doesn’t want this to be harder for you than it already is… but he knows the moment he leaves you in the morning, he will cry twice as hard.

You realize you’re still clinging to him; there are definitely going to be red marks all over his back. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, keeping him buried inside of you because that’s where you swear he belongs. He would agree with you.

But you remove your hands from his back and bring them to cup his face, and you feel so fucking drained from the intense sex and crying and the entire goddamn rollercoaster of today… but you don’t want it to end. Fuck, you’re so afraid for it to end.

You place a soft kiss on his lips, “I love you. I really do. Always have, always will, forever and ever…”

He smiles sadly down at you, nods. Because he knows. He never once doubted how much you loved him; every single time he was with you, he felt your love. Even when you were mad at him, you made him feel loved. He wishes so badly that he could’ve made you feel as secure as you made him feel.

You will never know how utterly thankful for you he is.

“I know baby, I know…”

You let out another choked sob and bury your face in his neck. He lifts himself off of you slightly, and he moves himself so that he’s lying beside you instead of on top of you. You cling to him again, refuse to let him go. Can’t. Won’t. Don’t want to. Can’t fucking bear it.

He gently slips his cock out of you and then wraps his arms around you, one hand coming to cup the back of your head and stroke his fingers through your hair, the other rubbing your back soothingly.

You cry and cry and cry. It’s pitiful how hard you’re crying; if anyone saw you right now, they’d be certain someone had died. It really feels that way, as if he’s dying while holding you right now. He feels like he’s dying watching you crumble like this, but he doesn’t dare stop you.

He doesn’t even reassure you because all that would do is give you false hope for something that may not happen ever again. For all you know, after this, you will never cross paths. He may just become a ghost to you…

A flower that bloomed in the spring and died come winter.

There were so many things you wanted to do tonight. You wanted to shower together, wash his hair for him, show him how to bake those cookies you know he loves, stay up and talk about a bunch of pointless shit, rewatch your favorite movies together, fuck a few more times, choke on his dick one last time, kiss him and touch him all over all night. So so so much more.

You didn’t want to stop here. You wanted to stay awake and savor every last second together just as greedily as him. But god, as you sob in his arms, you feel yourself growing so heavy with exhaustion that you can’t keep your eyes open.

“Don’t let me fall asleep, Koo, make me stay awake…”

He buries his face in your hair, his tears making wet patches in your strands. He inhales deeply just to get another whiff of your shampoo, fuck, he needs to figure out which one it is before he leaves so he can buy it and use it. Doesn’t even care if it’s weird. Wants to smell like you. Wants to be surrounded by reminders of you forever.

Like you, he’s been crying this whole time but so quiet that you don’t even realize it. He made sure you wouldn’t realize it. This is your time to get comfort from him, he can’t offer you reassurance, but he damn sure can comfort you through the pain that is his fault.

“Rest, baby… I’m here…”

You shake your head at him, keep your face buried in his neck even as your eyes start to lull shut.

“No, slap me, keep me awake… don’t wanna… sleep… please…”

He can feel your body start to go limp, can feel your tears running down his neck. He knows you’ll be out cold soon. You were fighting a battle you just couldn’t win, and god he wishes he could keep you awake. But he knows you’re emotionally overloaded right now…

And maybe if you fall asleep in his arms, you’ll rest peacefully for tonight. You deserve that, he thinks. You deserve so much peace and happiness.

“It’s ok Y/N… I got you. Just sleep. My baby needs rest, hm?”

You try so fucking hard to respond. But he’s right; you’re fighting a losing battle. Your body can’t keep up with your brain to the point you’re slurring your words. Maybe it’s the after-effects of a fight or flight response because it really felt like you were fighting for your love when making love tonight… fighting to keep hold of his roots as they slowly became untwined from yours. And now, you’re simply too tired.

“I… I love you… so… much…”

He lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes. Holds you a little tighter. Because, fuck, your last words before lulling into a deep sleep were that you loved him. It’s as it should be, but for some reason, it wrecks him, knowing that this is the last time he will hear them.

When your breathing evens out, he pulls back, stares at you. Your brows are furrowed even in sleep, clearly troubled. But you don’t stir and your grip on him loosens. You are so fucking beautiful. He wishes so badly he could just stay like this, watching you rest, in your arms while you’re in his.

Holding each other, as if you’re both one person instead of two.

He knows he won’t sleep tonight. He’s just as overwhelmed as you, but instead of his body shutting down, his adrenaline has spiked. He’s dreading leaving this bed, dreading leaving you.

He stares for an almost pathetic amount of time. Just lays beside you and takes in every soft detail of your face, traces his fingertips over your features. He finds himself wondering, what if he married you instead? What if you met sooner? What if you lived with him and had his babies one day?

What if… he left his wife?

He has to stop himself there. He makes a pained noise and buries his face in your hair again because he knows he can’t think like that. He could leave his wife; he probably should, but he feels like he owes her his life, his devotion. He married her, for fucks sake.

And even if he did leave, he doubts you’d ever be capable of having a healthy and stable relationship. People in these situations rarely do; it’s a form of karma, he thinks. Husbands who cheat and marry their mistresses often get cheated on, or they end up do it again.

He swears, fucking swears on his life that he would never do that to you. But he knows you probably wouldn’t trust him; any woman in your situation wouldn’t. You’d always be left wondering if he’d turn around and do the same to you one day.

Oh, Jungkook, how badly you’ve fucked up…

He has no idea how much time has passed by the time he checks the little alarm clock on your bedside table. He honestly can’t recall when he got here or what time ‘one more night’ started, but as of now, it’s 5 am.

He wants to stay. Wants to fall asleep holding you, wake up and make you breakfast, draw you a cozy bath and massage your back for you… wants to treat you as a lover would.

But he knows that if he doesn’t leave soon, he won’t leave at all. The moment you open your eyes, he will beg again. He will cry and beg and plead for you to change your mind.

Which is way too selfish, considering he’s still a coward, still unwilling to leave his wife both out of fear and knowing the reality of what happens once he does.

So he places one last kiss on your forehead, breathes you in one last time, and then quietly extracts himself from your hold. Standing up and getting off the bed, he looks down at you.

He swears he can see the exact place you keep his stolen heart inside of you. He doesn’t want it anymore, it’s yours. Always will be.

He slowly starts dressing himself again with robotic-like motions. He isn’t crying anymore; he feels kind of numb at this point, or maybe his tears have just run out.

Acceptance? Or the calm before the storm? He isn’t sure.

He doesn’t bother taking a shower; can’t be bothered right now even if he smells like sex… smells like your sex specifically. He can blame it on being lazy, but he knows it’s because he wants your smell to linger a bit longer. He will shower later.

Once fully dressed he pads his way into the living room, grabs the bag full of stuff he packed for you. He takes it back into your bedroom and sits it at the end of the bed.

He carefully collects each Polaroid he took of you for himself and stuffs them in his wallet for safekeeping. After nearly considering changing his mind and taking the camera greedily, he decides he’ll leave it for you, even though it was a gift you got him. He knows you love it, but also knows you’d never buy one for yourself. And if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t think he could ever use it again without thinking of you. It would feel wrong to use it without you.

So he sets that on the end of the bed. He opens the bag, carefully takes out the clothing he packed for you, folds them, and arranges them in a neat pile. Next, he takes out the box of Polaroids; he made sure to put a label on it before coming that said ‘For Y/N.’ He sets the box next to the clothes and then carefully places the chain he packed on top of the pile of clothes.

He wants to arrange it almost as a surprise, hoping it’ll feel more like a gift and not so much like a goodbye this way.

Now that the bag is empty, his intrusive thoughts return. He wants so badly to turn into a little thief and take some of your stuff, too. You would have gladly offered it to him, anything he wanted, but you’re asleep. And he can’t stay much longer.

His intrusive thoughts win, and he can’t find himself feeling too guilty.

So he reaches down and grabs the panties you had on earlier, the same panties that he sucked on like a damn popsicle, and he puts them in the bag.

He quietly makes his way into your bathroom, looks around for a moment until he finds exactly what he’s looking for: the star pimple patches. He takes them, noticing that they’re in a cute little case with a face on it. He knows you love these things; they make pimples feel less like some kind of imperfection. He loves them, too. They remind him of a time when you showered him with love.

You won’t miss them, he thinks again. Not as much as he’ll miss you.

He greedily holds onto them, looks around to see if there’s anything else he can steal. He sees your scarf hanging on the back of your bathroom door; it was the scarf you wore one of the first times he took you to dinner. It’s honestly kind of ugly; it’s a dark and muted plaid, but you loved it because of how soft and warm it is.

It smells very strongly of you.

It’s his now.

He takes the scarf and decides that’s enough. He’s greedy, but he’s not an actual thief. Maybe more like a rat. As much as he wants to steal your shampoo, he decides just to make a mental note of the name because he knows you'll need it to shower when you wake up.

He stuffs the patches and scarf into the same bag and stands before you on the bed. Fuck. He doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to leave you.

But now is the perfect time; you’re sleeping soundly, dead to the world. If he leaves like this, there will be no hysterical begging or crying from either party.

Still, he finds himself procrastinating. He decides to open the box of Polaroid photos he packed just to make sure none of the ones he kept for himself snuck their way in. They didn’t. He knows they didn’t. But never hurts to double-check.

He comes across one photo in particular… it was a photo he took one night after you both had some very intense sex. He rented a motel that night because he was in Busan for business, and of course, he dragged you along with him. Busan is his hometown, and his wife has always hated it. She was born and raised in Seoul and always claims Busan is too boring, not lively enough. She always refused to go with him, even if it was to visit his parents.

You, on the other hand, you were so fucking excited to go. You talked his ear off the entire ride there, and once you arrived, you were so interested in everything around you. It was so fucking sweet because you told him the reason you were so excited was because it was a part of him. He was born here, which makes the place sacred. It was dramatic, but god, it was precious.

After you guys fucked that night, you both showered together. You got out of the shower before him, and you snapped a few pictures with the Polaroid; he made sure to put those in the box for you. At some point after, you were lying in the bed watching some cartoon on the motel TV, and he was smoking a cigarette. He noticed a vivid handprint from where he was slapping your ass while fucking you from behind. It was the first time he wasn’t really concerned about it, but proud. Because in some fucked up way, he marked you, even if it was temporary. You were his, and even if you doubted it, he was yours.

It was the same feeling he got tonight when giving you those hickeys. Just a little reassurance that you belong to him.

He took the photo to kind of solidify the feeling, preserve it. It was very aesthetically pleasing. One of his favorites, he’s realizing. He almost wants to take this one.

But instead, he decides to leave it with you, and before he does so he grabs a pin from your desk and writes:

I won’t let you forget us

-Kook

It’s cryptic, he knows. Maybe it’s selfish to leave a message like that… but perhaps it’ll keep you open for him. Not that he expects you to wait for him to get his shit together, god never. But maybe you’ll allow him to check on you now and then, maybe you won’t block his number, maybe, just maybe, you’ll save a piece of your heart for him…

He sets the photo down on top of the pile of folded clothes and steps back. He looks at the clock again, sees that it’s now 5:50 am. He has no idea how time passed that quickly because it only felt like maybe ten minutes had passed. He must have been moving slowly; his brain must have realized how much he was fighting this inevitable end.

As he stares down at your sleeping form, he genuinely considers staying. Considers refusing to leave.

And that’s exactly why he chooses this moment to leave. He has to get the fuck out of here before he does something stupid.

He walks over to you once more, leans down, and places a kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, then your chin, and starts peppering your face with kisses all over again. His heart is pounding fast, and he has the urge to run. With one last kiss to your lips, he yanks himself away and grabs the bag now full of items that don’t belong to him.

He wants to take in your space one last time, wants to linger and look around because this has been his safe space for literal months. But he fucking can’t. He feels his resolve weakening quickly by the second and knows one more second here, and he won’t leave.

He quickly makes his way out of your apartment, is nearly panting as he walks out of your complex and down to his car. His hands are shaking, his heart is beating at a scary pace, and he starts to feel fucking sick.

He borderline throws the bag in his back seat, and then gets into his car quickly. His hands shake so severely that he fumbles with his keys as he starts the engine. The moment the car turns on, he’s peeling out of the parking lot.

It wasn’t acceptance. It was indeed the calm before the storm.

He’s never felt like this before. He feels nauseous and almost panicky as he drives robotically down the morning streets of Seoul. His breathing is coming in so fast he gets dizzy.

It all hits him at once. This is the end. FIN. Over.

He swears he feels his flower die at that very moment. It wasn’t uprooted and moved to another garden; someone fucking stepped on his fully bloomed Bearded Iris. One second he was thriving, flourishing, and now he’s fucking dead.

He doesn’t even recognize the sounds of his own choked sobs as he drives down the street. He can’t breathe. He can’t fucking see. He feels like he’s dying, truly, he almost considers calling for help because he feels so full of despair and grief.

But who would he call? His wife? That's a fucking joke. You? He can't call you anymore. He can't call his friends either because none of them know. He's on his fucking own now.

Nothing could have prepared him for what it feels like to grieve the death of a love who is still alive.

He ends up pulling into a random parking lot once he’s a safe distance from your apartment. He slams his palms on his steering wheel and just fucking bawls. Tears fog his eyes, and he sounds almost childish because of the force in which he’s crying.

He knew the day he lost you would be the day that that he died. And right now, he is dying for you.

It isn’t until 10 am that you stir awake. You instinctively reach for him, but your hands only find cold sheets, meaning he left a while ago…

You didn’t expect him to leave so soon. You expected to be able to wake up to him one last time, so you’re disappointed when you realize his clothes aren’t on the floor anymore, and you don’t hear the sounds of him awake and making coffee in the kitchen.

But you suppose that was a smart move. If he had stayed, it would have just made it harder for you both, most likely.

You feel oddly… numb. As of now, no sadness. The only thing you feel is almost like a little zap in your chest; it’s subtle, to the point you aren’t even sure if it’s really there.

It’s off. Somethings not quite right.

You ignore the weird hollow feeling as you sit up and stretch; you realize you never showered, and you smell heavily of sex. So you get out of bed, and you make your way into your bathroom. You start the shower after using the bathroom, and as you wait to warm it up, you look at yourself in the mirror.

Fuck.

You are literally littered with marks. Your neck, all the way down to your chest, all the way down to your thighs. Purple and pink love bites all over you. He seriously fucked you up.

You feel that zap again.

You shake your head and tear your eyes away from the mirror, don’t notice how your star patches are missing from your skincare tub on your bathroom counter yet. You step inside the shower and spend a good while letting the hot water wash over your body, washing the remnants of sex and sweat off of your skin.

After about half an hour, you step out. Dry off. Get dressed. That’s when you walk back into your bedroom and notice the pile of clothing sitting on your bed. Clothing that isn’t yours.

You slowly approach it and quickly recognize the strong scent lingering on it: his cologne. You unhurriedly pick up each piece of clothing, see the shirt and hoodie you often attempted to steal from him, accompanied by one of his favorite jackets.

He left pieces of himself for you.

Zap.

You set them aside and pick up the chain and photo. Fuck, you love his chains. You always loved them because, one, they’re fucking hot, and two, you loved how they would dangle above you when he was fucking you. You doubt he realized it, but sometimes you’d bite it as he was fucking you, tug on it like a damn dog playing with their favorite chew toy just to see if it would break. It never did, and you never stopped being fascinated with his jewelry.

Zap.

You look at the photo and immediately recall the memory. Busan, now one of your favorite places, all because of him. It was such a good little trip. You tried a lot of street food you never had before, saw a lot of pretty things, and he fucked you beautifully that night. It was rough, passionate, and he left hand prints on your ass, and much like him, you loved it. This was one of your favorites, for sure.

But then you read the note.

I won’t let you forget us.

Zap. Zap. Zap.

You drop the photo and the chain on top of the clothes, let out a shaky breathe. Still, you aren’t really feeling much, maybe a bit of nostalgia accompanying the zaps… but no despair, no yearning or grieving…

Calm before the storm.

You decide you need some coffee and painkillers. You have a lingering migraine from all of the wine and crying last night, so you leave your bedroom and make your way into the kitchen.

You start making your coffee and swallow the painkillers dry. You lean against the counter as your coffee brews, then freeze when you look at the floor.

The purple wild flower lays there, stepped on by he-who-shall-not-be-named’s boot. Wilted and destroyed, the petals disconnected from the stem.

The flower is dead.

And now you break.

Those zaps you were feeling, you suddenly understand. It was your fight or flight kicking in again, and instead of your brain responding to it, it blocked it out.

Can’t fight it now.

You drop to your knees, start breathing heavily because you feel like someone placed bricks on your chest. Your heart aches, literally, it hurts, it feels like it’s going to explode and you feel like you can’t breathe at all.

You start crying again… no- you’re fucking wailing. You’re crying out for the loss of your flower, for the death of a lover who isn’t even dead, much like Jungkook had earlier.

It finally hits you that he isn't coming back. He's gone, and now, you're expected to move on. Your heart aches for him. Without him, do you even have a heart?

No, you really don’t, not right now anyway. The moment he stepped out that door, he took it with him. He fucking stole your heart just like he stole your pimple patches and perfume.

All you can do is cry for him, except right now, you don’t have him to cling to for empty comfort. Instead, you reach for the dead wildflower, hold it in your palm, bring it to your chest, and cradle it close as if you can somehow bring it back to life.

Bring him back to you.

Little do you know, he’s currently curled up in his bed at his second apartment. He hasn’t stopped crying since he left. He went back home, took the stolen perfume, and sprayed it all over his damn bed, and now he’s hugging a pillow as if it’s you. Imagining that it’s you, that this is all just a horrible dream, and he will wake up soon.

Both of you are lovers, stars who collided, planets who aligned, flowers who grew side by side.

But it was at the wrong time. And now you’re paying the consequences of your paths crossing when they shouldn't have.

So far away in the matter of hours when you were once so close, yet you’re both doing the exact same thing; clinging to shreds of each other and wishing so fucking badly that things could be different.

Both of you left each other without returning your hearts. Both of your flowers got stepped on instead of uprooted and re-planted somewhere safer.

Spring has passed, no longer bees buzzing and flowers blooming, but the cold harsh winter is coming.

It will be a while before either of you bloom again, if at all.

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #18+ only #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #i love jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfiction

[zegrasdrysdale]

Hi! I wanted to ask if you could write a request for cole caufield! So him and reader are like newly public but have been dating for a couple months, but she’s getting hate on the internet bc her ex is someone who’s famous (idk who lol) but anyways she goes onto like a podcast and talks about how much better of a boyfriend cole was to her than her ex and when she gets home he’s just so in awe of her and the way she feels and speaks about him (I’m so sorry if this didn’t make sense) 😭

[ to love and to be loved ] c. caufield

paring : Cole Caufield x influencer!fem!reader

summary : tired of the hate she's been getting, (Y/N) goes on a podcast to talk about her life, her past relationship, and her new public relationship with Canadians star Cole Caufield

warning(s) : language, mentions of cheating

author’s note : my first time ever writing for cole so pls tell me if i did okay :)

༺═──────────────═༻

She didn't know what she thought would happen when she and Cole went public with their relationship a few months after they started dating. There were a few hours where all she saw was support, until her TikToker ex decided to say something about the announcement she and Cole made.

All she sees right now is hate from thousands of people after her ex's comments on his Instagram story. He called her a bitch and said she used him to gain fame and use his money to get what she wanted. He even tagged Cole in a second Instagram story to warn him about her "manipulative ways". His millions of fans agreed with him and have started to flood her feed with hate and negative messages.

She can't even imagine what Cole's comments and DMs look like.

It's been a week since that day, and she's only grown tired of seeing all the hate. She's hasn't spoken out about her ex's accusations about her despite her having more serious accusations about him and his own girlfriend.

As soon as she was invited to go on one of her friends' podcasts, she jumped at the opportunity to speak out about what's been going on. It's time to speak out, and that's the reason her friend invited her on to the podcast.

The set is comfortable. She sits on the couch next to her friend and her friend's podcast partner. A microphone sits in front of her on a stand. A table sits at her feet that holds cups of coffee for the three of them. It's a cozy set up.

"Thank you for inviting me," (Y/N) says to her friend. "I'm sorry Cole wasn't available to come on with me. He flew in this morning from his road trip and has practice today. He didn't want to risk being late to the rink."

Her friend Demi says, "It's not a problem. I understand that he has a busy schedule. Thank you for agreeing to come on."

"It's time I spoke up about this," she tells her friend. "Don't be afraid to ask the hard questions. I'll happily answer any of them."

One of the crew members tells them they're going live in less than a minute. (Y/N) throws her curls behind her shoulder and sits back to get comfortable on the couch.

The same crew member counts down from five before pointing at Demi and her podcast partner. Demi is the one that gives this episode's greeting.

"Welcome back to TikTok Stuff You Should Know," she says into her own microphone. "To my left is Payton, which is not surprising at all because she's glued to my side. Today we have a very special guest joining us. She is a very close friend of mine who has been dealing with a lot of hate recently after launching her relationship online last week. Please welcome (Y/N) (L/N) to the podcast."

Payton looks over at (Y/N) and speaks. "Welcome, (Y/N). We're very happy you're able to join us today."

"Happy to be here."

Demi smiles at her and says, "So, we're all dying to know. How is your relationship with Cole Caufield? How have the two of you been dealing with the past week?"

There it is. Starting out strong.

"Cole has been super supportive of me," she replies. "He's been doing his best in trying to distract me over the past week. I think we've both been trying to stay off social media this week and focus on making sure we're both okay. He's been playing really well recently too, which makes it very easy to distract myself from everything that's been happening on social media. I think he's been using hockey as his own distraction."

Payton nods along as (Y/N) speaks. Demi's eyes are on her. They're both listening to everything she's been saying.

That's only a fraction of what's been happening.

(Y/N) has been in tears almost every night, especially since Cole has been on a roadie for the past four days. The first three days after all hell broke loose were perfect. She laid in Cole's arms every night and woke up next to him every morning. It made the days a lot easier.

Since he left, she's been in tears on FaceTime with him. It hasn't been as easy without him near her. It actually kind of sucks. She didn't even get to see him before she left.

"What made you want to come out about your seemingly new relationship with him?" Payton asks. "Did you think that Ethan would say something about it when you and Cole posted about it?"

She shakes her head. "I always thought Ethan was a really nice guy," she explains. "I certainly didn't expect this out of him. Especially after everything he did throughout our relationship. Cole and I really love each other and we both got tired of hiding that from the public. It was his idea to make out "

"That's an interesting comment," Demi slowly says like she doesn't know what her ex did. "What did Ethan do during your relationship?"

(Y/N) bites her bottom lip for a second. "He cheated on me," she tells the two of them. "All the time at the end of our relationship. Actually, his new girlfriend is just one of the girls he fucked while we were in a relationship. He would have a new girl every weekend and I would look the other way because I loved him."

"It wasn't because you didn't want to lose your constant source of followers and money?" Payton asks. "I'm not taking a shot, by the way. He accused you of using him for fame and money so I just want you to be able to clear the air."

"No, I understand," she replies after being caught off guard by the way the question was worded. "Um, no. I never once used him for followers or money. I made my own money by posting my own content across social media. I stayed with him because I wanted to believe he was a better person and that he could change. I truly loved him and I wanted a future with him. After nearly three months of this, I couldn't do it anymore and I ended things with him."

She notes that Payton looks genuinely surprised by her words. Demi looks annoyed because she and (Y/N) are actually very close friends so she was one of the first people that she told what was going on. She was one of the people that told (Y/N) to end the relationship when Ethan started cheating on her.

"That's crazy," Payton drawls. "Holy shit." She looks over at Demi. "Did you know about all of this?"

"(Y/N) is one of the most genuine people I have ever known," Demi says. "I hated seeing her in that relationship at the end, and I hate that she's being accused of using someone for followers and money. There was a reason she rarely ever posted Ethan on any of her social media. She didn't want to constantly post him because she was afraid to be labeled as a user. She loves creating content and videos. She's so much happier now."

A small smile forms on her lips as she thinks about Cole. She thinks about how he actually loves her and isn't afraid to show it.

"I am so much happier now," she echoes. "I mean, Cole is the best thing that has ever happened to me. He was so patient with me at the beginning of our relationship because I was still healing from my last relationship. He spent so long trying to show me that it's okay to love and be loved by someone that I gave my heart to him. I trust him with my everything, which is not something I would've said this time last year."

Demi smiles at her and Payton mirrors it. "That's so good to hear," Payton says. "Sounds like you caught a good one, (Y/N)."

"I absolutely did," she replies with a smile on her own face. "He is the best boyfriend. I've been so emotional this past week and he has made sure to be there for me the entire time. He checked in on me while he was on the road for the past few games. I am so in love with him, and he helped me believe in love again. I am so grateful for him."

One of the crew members tells them to begin wrapping up. Payton takes over. "Well, thank you for talking with us, (Y/N)," she says. "Where can we find you and Cole?"

"You can find Cole on the ice tomorrow night at seven when he and the Canadians take on the Calgary Flames," she says. "You can find him on social media at colecaufield. You can find me on social media as well at yourusername. Or you can find me somewhere in the stands at Cole's home hockey games."

༺═──────────────═༻

It feels like an eternity since she's been home when she walks into her apartment in downtown Montreal. She shuts the door behind her with a sigh and leans against it.

When she throws her keys in the bowl by the door, she sees Cole's car keys. "Coley?" she calls. "Are you here?"

She walks into the living room to see Cole sitting on the couch. He looks back at her and smiles. "You are freaking amazing, baby," he tells her. "I listened to the podcast on the way home and holy shit. I have never heard anyone talk about me the way you do. I swear I fall in love with you more every single day."

"You listened?" she asks.

Cole stands up with a nod. "To the whole thing," he replies. "I helped you believe in love again?"

"Yeah," (Y/N) breathes out. "You did. You showed me that it's okay to love someone without being afraid they're going to hurt you. I thought that for a long time, Cole. You helped me realize that it's okay to love someone again."

Without realizing it, tears begin to roll down her cheeks. She tries to wipe them away quickly but Cole notices them before she can wipe them away. He walks around the couch to get to her and he envelopes him in a hug. "I'm so proud of you, baby," he whispers in her ear.

She lets out a quiet sob and buries her face in his chest. "I'm so grateful for you," she replies.

"You're so brave for talking about the whole situation," Cole tells her. "I can't believe how well you're handling it. I'm in awe, (Y/N). I wish I had your strength. I wish I could've been there to witness the whole podcast."

"I'm only brave because you're here," she admits as she pulls her face out of his chest. Cole moves his hands to her jaw and his thumbs wipe away more tears that escaped. "I don't know where I'd be if you weren't here. I don't know if I'd even be here if you weren't, Cole."

Cole presses a kiss to her forehead and mumbles, "I love you. More than you'll ever know. You're so strong."

She closes her eyes and whispers, "I love you too."

(Y/N) isn't afraid to say those three words anymore. Not like she was last year. Cole has showed her that she doesn't need to be afraid anymore.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #cole caufield #cole caufield x reader #cole caufield fluff #zegrasdrysdale request

[luvangelbreak]

watching a horror movie with Chris, and every time you get scared you hide your face in his chest!!! And he’s just rubbing your back the whole time comforting uu

Safe

christopher sturniolo x alice reyna (female!oc)

summary: alice has the bright idea to watch a horror movie to prove she’s not a scaredy-cat to her best friend chris. unfortunately for her, it backfires and chris gets his point proven. warnings: swearing, fluff (sm fluff my god), mentions of panic and dolls? word count: 1.2k a/n: ik the request said “you” but for those who haven’t read my pinned, i cannot bring myself to write w y/n so i use oc’s as a replacement. i hope that y’all will like this one tho i love chris fluff sm (this is also so funny bc chris is the biggest scardey-cat out of the triplets)

not proofread!!

I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to convince Chris to watch Annabelle Comes Home with me, I couldn’t sit through any horror movie without screaming my head off like a little kid. Chris didn’t like them either but because of a stupid bet and neither of us never backing down from a challenge, we agreed to watch one.

“I bet you can’t sit through a whole horror movie without crying into my shoulder,” Chris challeneged, a daring look in his eye and I scoffed at him.

“I could say the same for you, scaredy-cat. You can’t even watch Coraline without pissing your pants,” I pointed an accusing finger at him and he gasped, throwing his hands to his chest dramatically.

“I was 9 when that happened. That does not count you asshole!” he retorted, shoving my shoulder in protest.

After an hour of arguing about who would get more scared, the bet was made. Whoever gets scared first loses and has to pay up the $20.

We sat down on Chris’s bed, the darkness of the room making the movie seem more eerie than usual, the only light being emitted from the TV. We were only 15 minutes into the movie and not much had happened yet but it didn’t stop my shoulders from tensing in anticipation.

“You’re so losing this bet,” Chris taunted me and I looked over to see him completely relaxed with a beanie on his head, covers over his torso and arms behind his head as he smirked at me, “You already look like you’re about to shit yourself.”

“I look like this when I watch any movie,” I lied through my teeth, holding my head high as I unwrapped my arms from around my legs, letting my knees fall away from my chest as I fiddled with the hem of Chris’s hoodie that I stole since I forgot my own.

“Mhm,” he hummed unconvincingly and I rolled my eyes, ignoring his taunts as my eyes focused back on the screen. I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my head as I continued waiting for a jumpscare at any given moment.

“It’s cheating if you’re just watching me the whole time and not the movie,” I mumbled, not looking away from the screen as I bit my lip nervously.

“Who’s gonna call you out when you get scared then?” he retorted quickly and I leaned my hand over his torso, smacking him in the chest causing him to let out a huff.

“Watch the goddamn movie, Christopher,” I grumbled, regretting my decision of agreeing to this bet in the first place. As the movie continued, I jumped at the small jumpscares and I heard Chris chuckle.

"You know you've already lost?" he asked rhetorically and I nodded, sliding into him as my fear started to show. With a snicker, he lifted his arm as I wrapped my arms around his torso, cuddling into his side to hide my face from the jumpscares of the movie.

"Why didn't we pick a movie without dolls? They're like my worst fear," I mumbled and Chris began tracing circles on my back with his thumb, distracting me from the movie slightly.

"Because I wanted to win," he said and I could hear the smile in his voice making me shake my head, a sour expression covering my face.

"You're an asshole," I mumbled, hiding my face in his hoodie when another jumpscare appeared on screen but I was now determined to get through the whole movie at the very least.

"You love me," he retorted, being unphased by the movie now that he was amused that he won the bet and I looked up at him, flicking his forehead with my finger before resuming my place on his chest.

"I hate you actually. This was not a fair movie to put on," I grumbled, my anxiety spiking as the movie progressively got more terrifying. Chris could sense my terror as he pulled me tighter against him and I yelped when another jumpscare appeared on the screen.

"Ali, we can turn it off if you want," he said softly and I stubbornly shook my head, eyes still trained on the screen.

"I want to get through the whole movie. There's only thirty minutes left," I announced and he hummed, an unsure tone behind the sound as I gripped onto his hoodie like he was going to slip away from me at any given moment.

The last 30 minutes of the movie felt like it lasted forever as I gripped onto Chris for dear life but soon enough the movie came to an end and I let out a breath of relief.

"Alright, twenty on my Venmo thanks," Chris ruffled my hair as I sat up before I swatted his hand away, annoyed that he was so amused by my fear as I frowned at him.

"I'm not going home," I deadpanned and his eyebrows furrowed, an amused smile on his lips.

"Why?" he questioned, adjusting his sweatpants before sitting up further and I knelt back onto my heels.

"Because I'll have a fucking panic attack if I sleep alone tonight. I'm gonna be seeing dolls all across my room for the next week!" I exclaimed and he shook his head, a smile plastered on his face still.

"You're so dramatic," he laughed and I let my body slump back further till my back hit the bed making me sigh loudly. My mind kept flashing of the jumpscares in the movie making my anxiety spike once again and I think Chris noticed because he leaned forward, placing a hand on my knee.

"This was such a bad idea," I mumbled, my breathing becoming more shallow the more I thought about it and I looked up to see Chris's demeanour change, now softening at my genuine fear.

"Come here," he opened his arms and I sat up before sliding forward on my stomach, placing my head on his stomach as he ran a hand through my hair to calm me, "It's okay. Nothing gonna hurt you. It's all made up, remember?"

"I know," I mumbled against his hoodie, the feeling of having him close to me bringing me a sense of calm again, "I just really hate horror movies."

"It wasn't fair to put Annabelle on. I'm sorry," he said softly making me look up to see an apologetic expression covering his face.

"Does that mean you will let me watch a movie with your biggest fear?" I asked with a smile and he gave me a confused look as I reached over him, grabbing the remote before flicking through the movies on Netflix.

I found one of my favourite movies, putting it on before Chris groaned, throwing his head back onto the headboard.

"Are you serious? Ten Things I Hate About You?" he groaned and I laughed, nodding as I looked up at him.

"You're biggest fear. A relationship," I twinkled my hands in front of his face, shaking my voice to make it sound more spooky and he swatted my hand away.

"You're lucky I feel bad for you right now or I'd knock you out," he threatened and I rolled my eyes in response, placing my head back on his stomach as his hand returned to my hair.

“I’m terrified,” I mumbled sarcastically as I smiled against the cloth of his hoodie and I practically hear him rolling his eyes.

He continued massaging my scalp and playing with my hair as I focused my attention on the movie instead of the terrifying thoughts in my head. Soon enough, Chris's soothing motions and the familiar movie sent me into a slumber as I held Chris against me closely.

tags:

@dsturniolo @sturniolopepsi @chrissturnioloswifesblog @chrisstankyleg @lov3bug @stunza @pinklittleflower @v1nuswrites @trinity2058 @alorsxsturn

#chris sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut #the sturniolos #matthew sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x reader

[lunas-side-anime-blog]

AOT Icks (Eren, Armin and Mikasa)

one thing about me: i am a hater

Eren

def has mommy issues and no woman could ever compare to her like good luck to any of his girlfriends lmao

^^ that being said, as a roommate he’s a nightmare like you can tell his mom cleaned up after him all the time because it doesn’t even occur to him to do so now

toxic gym bro who says shit like “we all have the same 24 hours”

def has the the 3 in 1 bottle in his shower, I just know it

prob calls women “females” 

the cringiest instagram captions like I know he will post sum: “I think my closet bi-polar, it keeps throwing fits💯”  like dude, get a grip

attempts thirst traps, he has a ripped body so it kinda works but the content is so transparent you can’t help but roll your eyes

go out to a bar with him or something and he’s the type to try to make everything a fight

like if someone bumps into you, he's quickly in their face like "what's good bro😡” and you know its not actually about you so much as eren tryna beat someone up

i think he’ll use spit as lube thinking he’s so bad boy and lewd when it’s actually just so bad for your PH like ewwww (if u have a vag ofc)

i feel like his hair would get so greasy, mikasa and armin have had to force him down with shampoo in hand before 

so gross but you came here for icks and I don’t believe Eren believes in holding back his farts for anyone

it can be the most intense and serious event like a funeral and he’ll rip a loud one and be like “what? it’s not good to hold it in??”

Armin

nail biter who will chew on them till the bone and you hear that loud ass “crONCh"

says he hates drama but that’s just something he says to not seem petty bc at the first sight of a fight best believe he’s sitting there, watching it all go down, wine glass in hand like "🍷🤨👂" 

lil shit will even add lil comments to keep the beef alive, like i can see him loudly asking “okay but jean didn't you say her outfit made her look fat though?”

if you're in a debate with him, he’s the type to say something like “you're so uneducated about the subject, I’m actually pretty well versed in it” and your like "okay so what's all ur research then?" and he'll just quickly change the subject bc he didn’t actually have sources to cite lmao

is one of those bfs who would make fun of you for liking trashy tv but guess who eats that shit up everytime? armin.

he does that dad thing where he walks around in the living room and acts uninterested with what’s happening on the screen but he’s actually so invested and would be fuming if you dared watched an episode without him 

i think he’d also be the type to try to be friends with his ex even if they obviously still have feelings for him, but if you dared even talk to yours he’d get all huffy and puffy like “go be with him then🙄” 

got obsessed with skincare after watching your routine but u kinda created a monster bc now he’s critiquing your products and techniques? “Babe you should really consider a gel moisturizer, it’s better for your pores'' and you're like, “boy you used neutrogena when I met you???” 

is that bf who will shower at your place and use up all your expensive washes and scrubs 

not the best gift giver tbh, I think he’s a firm believer that all gifts should be practical so even if it’s a romantic anniversary date and he slides over a lil present, it’s probably just gonna be socks or something, srry

Mikasa

applies her chapstick like a man (iykyk)

“he know where home is” bitch, I hate to say it

i think she’s a girl’s girl until her man cheats on her, then she’d be the type to fight the girl and not really address her man…which is just… 😣

as a friend I think she’s sadly the type to unintentionally embarrass you bc she doesn’t get some social cues.

like you can miss a hang and ppl ask where you are and she’d just say matter of factly “oh they’re fine, they just have diarrhea rn!” and she won’t understand why you’d be mad?

outfit repeater to the max, she has like three tops that she likes and all pics of her are with her wearing one of those three tops

a lil delulu and prob genuinely believes all the tiktok pick a card vids on her feed

likes her coffee black and somehow thinks she’s better than everyone for that???

as a gf she checks your snap score and location regularly and has no shame in it 🙂

fights in her sleep like you will just be sleeping next to her all soundly and next thing you know you get punched in the face? she refuses to apologize in the morning bc she “has a right to defend myself in a nightmare” or whatever

when shes mad at someone she’ll post like ultra specific lyrics or captions and it’s so obviously targeted at one person everyone else is like "girl go to bed, don’t even post the quote…"

#aot headcannons #eren x reader #eren headcanons #armin headcanons #armin x reader #mikasa headcanons #mikasa x reader #modern aot #modern attack on titan #modern mikasa #modern eren #modern armin

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for agreeing to be a bridesmaid in my cousin's wedding even though I think she's making a huge mistake?

(Emojis so I recognize it 👰‍♀️💍🤵)

So my (24F) cousin Anna (21F) got engaged at the start of December. This was really surprising to me because the last time I saw her at Thanksgiving she was just starting to get back into dating via tinder after a couple bad breakups, and she wasn't actively seeing anyone yet. When I got home for Christmas break, my mother told me that Anna had gotten engaged to and moved in with her new boyfriend, Evan (~22/23M), an army guy she'd met three weeks before and that no one but her immediate family had even met yet.

Our family has always been pretty close, and this was concerning for a lot of reasons. 1) she literally just had a nasty breakup with her rebound boyfriend after a nasty breakup with her last long-term relationship, making this guy her 4th serious boyfriend this year, 2) she historically has very bad taste in men, every boyfriend she has ever had had treated her horribly and she ties her entire self-worth up into how her boyfriend sees her so she's literally never been single for more than a couple weeks since high school, 3) her older sister (28F) literally just left a 13 year abusive relationship with the guy who started grooming her when she was 15 and he was 28, 4) the groom is about to ship out for a 9 month deployment a month after their March wedding and military men are notorious for cheating or divorcing on long deployments, 5) she wants her dream wedding in March (giving us only 2 months to plan and fundraise), despite her parents already being in tight financial straits bc they started building a house right before unexpectedly needing to take in and help provide for their eldest daughter and her two kids and both my grandparents (who live with them) having sudden drops in their health to the point where my grandfather probably will pass in the next couple months and my grandmother could pass at any time (though tbf, were pretty sure no one has told Anna this since my grandparents don't want to scare her and her mom's in denial).

I also just really don't like the groom bc the one time I met him he made a ton of racist and homophobic jokes despite there being multiple black and queer family members present, but if that were the only thing I could probably bite my tongue since I don't think that's something that bothers her or anyone else in the family. I'm just really worried about her, since it seems like she's been going through something for a while and I know how hard this is on my whole family, especially my grandparents, since we all are really scared about what's going to happen to her if things go wrong and considering the circumstances, that's a good chance this will go wrong.

I want to make it clear, I do really want this to work out for her. She's head over heels in love and he seems to care about her too. I just don't expect it to go well and I've said as much to anyone who asked how I feel about it.

Here's where I could be the asshole: Anna's really having a hard time with the entire family telling her this is a bad and impulsive idea, feeling like everyone who has a problem with it isn't supporting her. She called and asked me to be a bridesmaid, specifically because "you've always looked out for and supported me even when no one else did, so I really want you to be my bridesmaid." I told her I would love to be there and support her however she wanted me to, and I fully intend to be the best bridesmaid I can be because I want this to be a happy memory for her and to take as much stress off her and her parents as possible. But now she thinks I support this marriage when I definitely don't and have been open about that with both our moms as well as her sister (the maid of honor), my SIL (also a bridesmaid), and my brother (a groomsman), all of whom are in the same boat.

So, am I the asshole for agreeing to be my cousin's bridesmaid while thinking she's making a big mistake?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[chyeyuj]

an anon reqeusted this fic and im sirry if it wasnt exactly like the one you requested bcs i forgot baout it and this is my 2nd remake...if the pic below is like not being lined tgt or smtg, js ignore it. im not remaking this again.

cheater!ex!bada lee x wife!reader x wife!aiki

"yn."

you felt someone tap on your shoulder and look sroumd to see none other than your ex, Bada Lee. You never knew you'd meet her again. "I didn't know you were involved in this show." She said, chuckling but all you did was smile at her awkwardly. "Yeah, I didn't know you were involved too." You replied. "Well you know me, dancing is my passion!" The way she spoke was as if she didnt just cheat on you a long time ago. She continued to speak again, "How's your life going, yn?" She asked, a grin on her face as she waits for your answer patiently. "Its alright, what about you? How is you and Howl?" You shoot her back with a question and she immediately drops her smile when you mentioned Howl. "We're..not together." Bada replied, looking away.

Years ago, you and Bada were the "healthiest" couple in your whole life. Everything was smooth, until Bada met one guy during her dance sessions. Howl. You thought they both had a sister brother bonding and you knew that Bada doesnt have feelings for men. But everything changed on that day, the day you got back from dancing with your friends. When you got home, you saw a pair of shoes that weren't yours but not wanting to think negatively, you thought that Bada bought new shoes.

Inside, you didnt see your girlfriend anywhere, she wasnt watching tv like she used to so you went to your room to put your things you just bought with your friends earlier before searching for Bada.

But opening that door was something you regretted doing because when you did that, you saw Bada and Howl on both of you guys' bed, making out.

Hearing the loud gasp you let out, the both of them pulled away and look at you, their eyes widening in shock.

Before Bada could get up though, you immediately closed the door and walked out of the house in tears. You immediately went to Tatter's place since she was the friend you trusted the most and when you told her baout what happened, she immediately gasped. She did not expect this from someone like Bada. She insisted you to stay with her, tomorrow or afterwards she will get your stuff in the house you and Bada used to live in together.

It has been days, weeks, months ever since the incident with Bada. You were living your life to the fullest. Tatter had introduced you to one of her friends, Aiki. Both of you hung out, telling eachother's interests and more. Soon, Aiki confessed which you accepted. Aiki has treated you better than Bada ever had, always being with you no matter what and she was very loyal. And eventually, both of you were happily married until this day.

Back to the current situation, Bada finally looked at you, smiling a bit. "So..anything new happening lately?" She asked, changing the topic. "Yes, I am married." Your reply making Bada's face turn into shock, her jaw agape. "With who?" "Aiki." Again, she was shocked to hear about the news. Never has she thought that you would end up being married to someone. Aiki showed up at the right time after fixing her clothes and everything, immediately walking beside you and putting her hand on your hip. "Oh Bada, right? Leader of Bebe? I like your team's spirit." She said, smiling while Bada only nodded, still a bit shocked. "Well the show is about to start, you should get ready." Was the last thing Aiki said before leaving along with you. Meanwhile Bada was looking at you both with shock and disappointment. She knew it was all her fault.

#gxg smut #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #bada lee #aiki x reader #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter x reader

[umeoniii]

aot women beige flags!

٩( 'ω' )و

mikasa, hange, annie, sasha, ymir, pieck

~

mikasa:

☆ gets super sick easily

and these sicknesses literally beat her ass

she just has a super weak immune system

can go out one time then when she comes back home she’s literally stuck in bed like it’s her dying days.

a common cold for her is like the plague

it seems as if she’s an old victorian child lying in her bed asking her mother for bread and water.

☆ somehow physic

not so much now, it’s not like she has powers

but she has a ‘6th sense’ and she can tell when something bad is going to happen

first time she did it you thought she was joking around

but then she was right because the building next to you caught fire (cooking error…)

you were totally scared of her after that bcs what if she was behind it

then you forgave her (she did nothing wrong?) and tried to convince her to give you a fortune

then she proceeded to tell you that’s not what the sixth sense is for

hange:

☆ really likes playing games

hanges a sore loser though.

this is super funny

super competitive with stuff like board games and video games. and she takes it seriously.

when she loses she takes it to heart.

she’ll throw a temper tantrum and get upset and everything.

she’ll do anything to win as well. cheats and switches the game all she wants, especially when she’s actually winning. but when you try to do it it’s all “no no that’s not how you play!”

you DO NOT want to play uno with hange. enough said

☆ makes impressions of people in public.

let’s say you’re in the car parked and you see a couple sitting on the bench talking.

she’ll give them names and make a voice and act what she thinks is their conversation.

it’s far funnier than it sounds.

if she sees a couple and their friend,

“eh barbra? i didn’t know you were gonna invite your annoying friend, you know how much i hate her!” she’d snicker while staring at the three people

and there’s actually times where you hate it bcs of how unserious she acts.

sometimes she would invite you along to voice someone else

and she would just sit and laugh like it’s the funniest thing ever!

annie:

☆ bargain queen

has coupons for everything in the whole wide world

she has all the apps for everyplace she goes so she’ll get some kind of deal.

her total at the grocery store would go from $135 to $80 bcs she’s a diehard user of coupons

she makes u use them as well and stuffs some in your wallet

she’s a karen for these things as well

if the price tag says it’s ‘$3.12’ then it’s ‘$3.12’ whether the seller says “well that’s last weeks price”

she’ll say “well maybe you should’ve changed it, how would the manager feel if i told them you’re not doing youre job?”

and she’d get it for $3.12

☆ greets an animal before she greets a person

if she seems someone she knows walking their dog she won’t even look at them let alone speak to them

she’ll crouch and pet the dog and start baby talking to them before she gets up and says something to the walker

she actually likes animals a lot

more than ppl

she’d have some kind of shirt displaying that as well

“im more of a dog person than a people person”

sasha:

☆ cant stay on track in a conversation

she could be talking to you about something she heard about someone. then she’ll be like, “speaking of her i remember when me and her went out for these awesome burgers.”

THEN she’ll say “wait because i was actually contemplating going vegan…. what do you think?”

the whole convo switches topics every 2 minutes or so.

you get so confused as to how the conversation went from work drama to when she thinks the world is going to end.

☆ takes the first bite of your food

it’s an unspoken rule.

she doesn’t even say “to test it for poison” she just does it because she wants

trying something new? she gets the first bite. you haven’t ate all day? she still gets the first bite. it’s your favorite food in the whole wide world? two words: first. bite.

and it’s not even a small bite, it’s the BIGGEST chomp she could take.

you’ve gotten so used to it that you don’t care. you just shove it in her face.

because if you were being honest if she just suddenly stopped you’d be concerned and sad.

ymir:

☆ cannot take some things seriously

she could be out w you at a restaurant and see this waiter’s name on their tag

“gaylord”

it’s not even pronounced “gay lord” but “gaylerd”

she’ll turn around and start hysterically laughing she doesn’t even care that the waiters right there

you can tell her a story from work or something that’s completely serious and she’ll still laugh no matter what

☆ lies out of her ass for no reason

you could tell her you tried some cool new exotic food and she’ll be like

“oh i had that when i was 5 and i almost died because i’m allergic to the spices in it”

and it’s kind of obvious it’s a lie but you don’t even say anything bcs she rides hard to defend herself and say it’s the truth

she’ll even go as far as editing photos and calling other people so it would be more believable

she sometimes doesn’t even lie to be funny but just out of habit

these aren’t bad kind of lies and she tells the truth when needed but she still b lyin..

pieck:

☆ cannot save money for her life

she can put aside some money for important stuff and it would be gone in a flash

worst part is the money is wasted on totally useless stuff

like finger puppets

what are you gonna do with finger puppets when you’re stranded for miles?

tries harder to not let it happen

then it happens again and she tries to justify it by saying that maybe a corn butterer was a great investment

(it wasn’t)

☆ can sleep anywhere at anytime

we all know this don’t we…

but it’s horrible

restaurants, floor, toilet

she could probably go to sleep in the club if she’s tired enough

she doesn’t look dead when she sleeps (unlike connie)

she looks very calm whether she’s in a deep sleep or taking a power nap

and she probably gets a decent amount of sleep at night, she just naps bcs… she wants to?

♡

a/n: at least 3 of these stories are actually real things i’ve faced with friends and family LOL so this is so funny to me. some of these aren’t even beige flags and are lowkey hcs, let’s just pretend alr!

#umeswritin!~ #aot #aot imagines #attack on titan #aot hcs #aot x reader #aot hange #hange x reader #hange attack on titan #hange zoë #hange aot #hange headcanons #snk mikasa #shingeki no kyojin mikasa #mikasa attack on titan #mikasa x reader #mikasa headcanons #aot annie #annie snk #snk annie #annie leonhart #annie leonhardt headcanons #annie leonhardt x reader #sasha braus headcanons #sasha x reader #sasha braus x reader #sasha aot #sasha snk #ymir x reader #ymir snk

[theosconfessions]

with scarletts bc on the horizon..i thought i should do a recap of everything that happened in the 4 year time jump we just did to get here. :) theres a lot here so im putting it under a cut.

if youd like to read the stephens from the beginning you can over here:)

if youd like to read the stephens continued you can over here:)

theo had his 65th birthday and dustin is still young and hot. its just the life of a trophy husband.

the twins are now 6 years old. sweet babies. i shouldve put quotes around that. because theyre still kinda assholey. they do have theos genes running through them after all.

robin is in college and yes shes still living at home.

scarlett never went to college.choosing to chase her tiktok presence and now her bachelorette challenge instead. life of a try to be influencer.

as far as theos health..theres been some steps made towards the better.. which we will get into.

theo is your host for scarletts upcoming bachelorette challenge. how dusty feels about that isnt great. and theyve had it out in the time jump and will have it out long after it starts airing.

some wounds do not heal. and dusty is still HURT over theo cheating on him [literally he has that sentiment come up a lot. he cant get over it. makes me sad for him ]

blake and river are still together and still married. they were married before they even graduated highschool. HOWEVER... they did legally separate about one year into college. blaming the distance...but really..they married young and quick and got into something they werent quite ready for. river got back together with isla for a time and blake....well..... did some things that resulted in just a tremendous amount of guilt [even though they were split up ] and thus he got the river tattoo on his ribs. made him feel better? somehow? after a short time apart and never filing for a divorce or even an anullment the boys fell back together during their sophomore year of college. even though the distance was tough they made it through their college years. after river graduated he quickly moved back to tomarang where blake had his apartment since high school. BUT ALSO where he is now 3rd backup quarterback for the local team. yes. backup. we'll get into the strifes of that a little later ;)

THEO FOUND OUT HE HAS MORE CHILDREN. or should i say dustin found out theo has more children. jesus christ. adult children but children nonetheless.

jami took over the strip club entirely. and he is helping out just like he said he would be at dustin and theos.

jami and marlee. DO NOT HAVE ANYMORE KIDS. FOR NOW. yeah!

even though scarletts bc will be going on... the stephens continued will still be posted hand in hand with it .. so we will get into SO MUCH MORE as we move on.

welcome to four years later..and welcome to finding out how many ways love is embarrassing :)

#the stephens continued #theo kline #dustin stephens #robin stephens #scarlett kline #blake donovan #river stephens #cade stephens kline #eloise stephens kline #the sims 4 #ts4 gameplay #the sims #ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 simblr #the sims community #ts4 legacy #ts4 story

[oneforthemunny]

okay SO. i know i don't even go here, i'm a janitor!eddie girlie BUT i feel very strongly about hockey!eddie because he's insane but also so dumb and i love dumbasses. anyways. i was reading what you said about him being grossed out by his teammates when they cheat and i had this idea so i wanna share it with you

imagine, if you will, that reader becomes really good friends with another hockey wife. young couple, maybe they recently had a baby and reader is obsessed, eddie is obsessed because omg my girl with a baby why is this awakening something in me, it's all very cute. double dates type of shit, maybe this is the first time reader has felt included in the wives and girlfriends club! and then eddie's teammate cheats on his wife and reader finds out. she's DEVASTATED because that's her friend!!!! that's her adopted nephew/niece!!! why would that asshole do that??? so ofc she goes and tells eddie and eddie is LIVID. next day at the locker room eddie breaks his nose or something lmao

god this is so sick and so good because i feel it. like i can see it so vividly.

she finally gets into the group, feels apart of it, and is enjoying herself. plus, she's with this other wife, who seemingly has made it work ya know? husband still plays and she's with him, but also has a balance to her life and schedule, and a baby??? it's like everything reader has wanted, and she's seeing someone have it, and it gives her hope. like all these fears, they're silly bc this can work!

eddie's close with the teammate, but not the most close, bc they're on opposite sides (defense and offense) so they don't really practice and play as much. but still, he likes him, thinks he's a cool guy.

they all get super close, especially during off season, and hang out all the time. guys got a wife, a career, a baby? he's older, been traded before and kinda takes eddie under his wing. truly, they're very very fast friends.

then they go out one night. maybe they had a press thing to do, or a team meeting, decide to go for a beer after it.

eddie's thinking nothing of it, they're sitting at some bar or club or whatever, and next thing he knows, there's two girls?? the guy had called them?? he kisses the one girl in greeting and eddie is immediately sick to his stomach. floored, shocked, disgusted, hurt- all of the above.

he leaves, right there. no warning, nothing, just leaves. is visibly shaken when he tells you later, rambling, eyes wide, just perplexed.

i feel like he wouldn't jump right into beating him. you both talk and are like "no way, there's no way, right?" maybe they're in an open relationship? maybe they swing? maybe they're freaky like that?

so eddie tries to talk to him the next day about it. "i know you'd never do that, man. i'm sorry. i just, i kinda freaked."

but his teammate doesn't reassure him. doesn't tell him that his wife knows. he kinda gets quiet. "i mean, no, she doesn't know, but she really doesn't need to. now does she?" he kinda shrugs. "i mean, we just had a baby, and ya know, she's so tired all the time. it'd be shitty of me to ask her."

eddie is, once again, sick. jaw dropped, he can't even speak, he's so fucking sick. "plus the road gets lonely. you know what i mean." the teammate continues. "look, i love my wife. i don't think there's anything wrong with getting a little something every now and then. it's purely physical. i wear a rubber, get what i need, and come home and keep them happy. i mean, what's the point of causing issues in my own marriage, when i could do this? take care of it."

"you don't think fucking around on your wife is causing issues in your own marriage?" eddie sneers.

"no." he scoffs. "not unless she finds out. what she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?" he shakes his head, shrugs it off nonchalantly. "look, kid, i get it. you're in love right now with your girl. it's all about her and nothings better, and that's great. for now. then you'll want a little more, and, hey, there's nothing wrong with that. it's biologically encoded in our dna as mammals to need more than one mate. monogamy, it's barbaric. and you'll understand. one day... you know, shit won't look the same, feel the same, and you'll-"

that's when eddie breaks his teeth. knocks him clear out, his coaches and team mates running to break it up, confused why there's a fight on the sidelines? no regrets from eddie. he got fined, had to run suicides until he threw up, but it was worth it. knocking that piece of shit out, totally worth it.

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #hockey!eddie munson #hockey!eddie munson x reader #hockey player!eddie munson

[hannyoontify]

seventeen as your older brothers

warnings | mentions of food/snacks, implications of alcohol consumption (not the reader), friendly insults (pls lmk if i missed anything)

notes | this has been a brain rot for a while now, so i’m glad that i have this writen down now lol. This was like a brain dump for me LMAO like i was js writing whatever came to mind when i imagined each member as an older brother. oh also this has no correlation with any of the members' siblings/lineage. pretend it’s in an alternate universe where you’re their only sibling

seungcheol 

for other people, it was always ‘sorry my folks won’t let me’ to hanging out with friends. but for you? oh no no no it was ‘... seungcheol said no’ and everyone knew there was no refuting it bc once cheol makes up his mind, there was no changing it. he’s like your third parent, always calling and making sure that you’re where you’re supposed to be. on days when you come back late at night, it was seungcheol who’s patiently waiting for you in the living room, not your parents (he had convinced them to go to sleep and swore to stay awake until you got home) but like he would be such a sweet, protective older brother :(( if he’s out grabbing snacks or groceries, he always makes sure to grab a bag of your favorite snacks and when he gets home, he js silently drops it on your bed and leaves your room. and omg sometimes he would help out with your math and chem homework, and nine times out of ten, it led to both you and your dad getting yelled at by cheol at 10 pm at night at the kitchen table bc neither of you could understand cos, sin, and tan 

jeonghan 

having jeonghan as your older brother would be so interesting omg like when you guys were younger, you were able to count on one hand the number of times you’ve won a game against him. he always said that it was bc he was js better than you but everyone and their mother knew that the little shit eater (affectionate) was shoving uno cards up his sleeves whenever he could. as you guys get older, he would probably cheat his way out of doing chores and leave you to do the dishes all on your own. he would only come back later bc he felt bad and he would help you put away the cutlery. he would randomly come into your room and stand by the doorway for 3 minutes before he js leaves LOL omg and when you were in middle school, he packed your lunch everyday and occasionally wrote a note that reminded you to do drink water bc you never fucking drink water and it pisses jeonghan off

joshua

DUDEEE i think you would be that friend who has a cute older brother. like that one time shua gave you and your friends a ride to the beach, your friends were all giggling and shit in the backseat whenever he smiled. at one point, you had to scold joshua bc his friendly behavior had all of your friends crushing on him and told him to stop being so nice but he js laughed and ruffled your hair. but i feel like having joshua as a brother would be so nice. like if you were in a bad mood, he always left food and water outside your door and texted you smth like ‘there’s food outside if you want any. you can do so much better than that jerk anyway’ AHHH AND AND when you were still in school, there were some days where shua comes home at 5 am, covered in glitter and smelling like alcohol and sweat. he would go into the kitchen, where you’re eating breakfast before going to school, and he would js grab a cup of water, ruffle your hair as a greeting before disappearing into his room. the first time that happened shua made you swear up and down that you wouldn’t tell your parents (you didn’t and you never have)

junhui

JUN WOULD BE SUCH A FUN BIG BROTHER LMAO LIKE he would conjure up the most random food concoctions in the kitchen at 2 am and then force have you be the taste tester. 8 times out of 10 it was edible, but once in a while, you would have to spit out the lump of… burnt charcoal?? you spit it out and complain that it tastes disgusting and junhui would js laugh at you. it was disgusting, but you considered it some of your favorite memories with jun. and you guys would have like an unspoken kind of connection like you guys can stare at each other and js understand how the other person’s feeling it’s rlly nice actually, to have a brother who js knows how you feel without saying a word. OH and you guys would def watch comedy shows together late at night and you guys def have inside jokes from the shows you watch heh

hoshi

oh my god imagine hoshi as your older brother holy crap. i feel like he would either be a super protective older brother or an older brother who acts like a younger one. like your parents genuinely questioned how hoshi could be older than you sometimes. but having him as your older brother regardless of either would be so fun. like the mafia game is def 100% banned from family gatherings bc last time it happened, soonyoung was doing cartwheels around the living room, screeching and accusing your great aunt of being the mafia LMAO LIKE bro takes mafia a little too seriously LMAOO but seriously like you probably started his horanghae agenda. when you guys were younger, he was obsessed with tiger patterned things and so you started calling him ‘tiger’ as a joke and it js kinda stuck (woozi hates you for that btw) oh but he would be so annoying like if he sees you with your crush, later that day he’ll be like ‘oooooo was that one person you were talking-’ and you have to throw a handful of lettuce to shut him up

wonwoo

the most chillest older brother EVER. like if you randomly walk into his room and ask for a ride to the mall for you and your friends, he would put down his book and grab his car keys without a second thought. and if your parents said no to hanging out with friends, you knew that wonwoo would find a way to sneak you out later. i feel like when you guys are hanging out together, you would each be doing your own thing. he would send you a meme via messages instead of js showing you on his phone since you were on the other side of the couch and then you guys would js laugh about it together. i feel like wonwoo would be like a ‘silent but deadly’ kind of protective brother. like he doesn’t stop you from going out and trying out things but if you’re ever in trouble, he’s always one call away. like he is such a supportive and understanding brother i love <3

woozi 

jihoon as your older brother would be so interesting. like he’s always staying up and working until the crack of dawn in his studio but if he sees you awake past 12 am he would be upset that you weren’t getting enough sleep. ‘go to sleep, it’s past your bedtime’ ‘IM A GROWN ASS ADULT JIHOON’ ooo also i think jihoon would be like a little more serious older brother. like if you ever had any worries or concerns, woozi would immediately put down whatever he was doing to listen intently to what you had to say. whether you wanted advice or some comforting words, jihoon always has something to say that would make you feel better. he would also randomly stop by your room to make sure that you’re doing alright and that you were taking care of yourself. ooo and if you’re into music, he would be your #1 supporter and critic LMAO like right after your piano recital he would go up to you and say ‘you could’ve worked on the dynamics a little more’ before handing you a big ass bouquet of flowers ‘good job today, you did amazing’

minghao 

meditation sessions together!! if hao notices that you’re looking a little too stressed, he would force you to get out of your room and have you meditate with him in the living room. he still kinda thinks of you as his baby sibling. he gets worried that you’re overdoing it sometimes and makes sure that you’re taking it easy. he’ll randomly text you throughout the day to make sure that you’re doing alright and if he’s making himself a cup of tea, he always asks you if you want some too. oh and he would definitely help you with your homework when you need it. OH OH OH AND ALSO i feel like he would be a rlly good listener. like you can vent to him all you want and he won’t judge you at all, just listen and nod his head until you feel better

mingyu

mr gyu!!! lowkey tho i feel like he could be an annoying older brother LMAO like kinda like jeonghan he’ll come into your room, knock over something and then just leave. you thought it was annoying but you knew it was his way of showing that he cared about you and making sure that you were doing alright. and if he makes food, he always makes sure to leave some extras in the fridge for you so you could never stay mad at him for anything. oh my god and if you ever start dating someone get ready for the older brother interrogation!! his bigger, physical build would scare the living crap out of your partners LMAO ‘touch [Name] and you’re done for’ kinda vibe and it’s true but he’s also like ‘new friend!!’ but he’s gonna make sure that he intimidates them first before befriending them lol also i feel like when you guys were younger, despite being the younger one, you got mingyu into trouble more than you did lolz

dokyeom

dokyeom is like a 2+1 deal lol like he’s your older brother but he’s also your best friend. you’re somehow always looped into his dumb antics but he’s the only one that gets in trouble for it. oh oh oh and if you’re in a bad mood, he’ll burst into your room with his portable karaoke machine and disco lights to cheer you up. omg and he would like change the lyrics of the song ‘why is my little sibling crying~~~ don’t you know you get 100 times uglier when you cry~~~ that piece of shit wasn’t worth it anyway~~~ stop crying and join me in my singING~~~~~’ it always manages to cheer you up and before the tears have all dried up, you’re already laughing while you’re singing with dokyeom (you really appreciate how hard he works to cheer you up)

seungkwan

okay bc why is arguing with him lowkey funny LMAO LIKE seungkwan will be chilling in his room and you’ll barge in, yelling at him for leaving the toilet seat up LMAO or not cleaning up all the hair he sheds after a shower and he’ll start yelling back in his defense LOL and omg we all know how much seungkwan loves his mom so in most cases, if you ever do anything, seungkwan’s gonna immediately run to your mom ‘MOMMM THEY’RE DOING IT AGAINNNN’ but yea you guys would def get into immature fights abt the TV remote control or who gets to sit in shotgun lol but also i feel like seungkwan would be kind of like subtle in the way that he shows that he cares for you. like he’ll always make sure your favorite snack is stored in the pantry and restock it the day that it disappears, and he knows you’re sensitive to the cold, so if you ever fall asleep with your window open, he’ll come in and close it so you don’t wake up the next morning with a sore throat. you both dance and sing to wonder girls together whenever he visits home and he’ll throw his slipper at you if you get a single dance move or lyric wrong ‘i can’t believe i’m related to you’

vernon

NO BC VERNON WOULD BE THE SWEETEST, BEST OLDER BROTHER EVER :(((( like when you guys were younger, he would read you bedtime stories and if you were crying, he would silently hold your hand while you get consoled by your mother until you feel better. i can imagine hansol walking you and dropping you off at school before going to his own, and he always makes sure to see you enter the building before he leaves to go to his own school (stop this is making me so soft) and when you guys are older, similar to wonwoo, he doesn’t really intervene in your life and the choices you make unless it’s smth really dumb and a bad ending was inevitable. like he doesn’t pry about your personal life but he occasionally checks in to make sure that you’re feeling alright and he always lets you know that he’s always there if you need to talk to someone abt anything. he kinda joins in whatever nonsense you do, like you have an extra concert ticket? vernon is your ride + concert buddy. you wanna go to the beach? vernon already has his sunscreen applied. you’re running away and joining the circus? you guys can be a duo act

dino

omg literally thing 1 and thing 2 like i feel dino would also be a sibling that you would get into petty arguments with. ‘stop calling me your younger brother, i’m literally [insert number] of years/days older than you’ ‘then maybe you should start acting like it- STOP I DIDN’T MEAN IT I’M SORRY HELP’ (he started tickling you) LMAO LIKE lowkey you guys can argue but you know it’s over if you guys ever get into a physical brawl, cuz bro knows how to FIGHT. he can throw a mean punch and you’ve witnessed firsthand what his fists could do (he beat up a school bully in 7th grade) i feel like you two would get along like 2 peas in a pod tho (secretly when no one’s looking) like you guys are always on the same wavelength and have similar habits that you guys picked up from each other. and despite being the younger sibling, chan often fell victim to your pranks and jokes (poor boy save him) and similar to dk, it was like having a best friend and a brother all in one and you can bicker with him all you want

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

#seventeen #svt imagines #svt #scenario #older brother #seungcheol #s.coups #jeonghan #joshua #jisoo #jun #junhui #hoshi #soonyoung #wonwoo #woozi #jihoon #dk #dokyeom #seokmin #mingyu #the8 #minghao #seungkwan #vernon #hansol #dino #chan #hannyoontify #hannyoontify.works

[frogsare-friends]

i will never get over the "jeremiah's a bad brother" from the con-gave-me-a-rash supporters. especially if you add in the "conrad is an amazing brother" bc what. did we watch the same show? conrad consistently uses jeremiah's insecurities against him and makes him feel bad for not knowing things that conrad specifically keeps from him. and the difference between jeremiah finding out about bonbad vs conrad finding out about jellyfish does matter. bc jeremiah said "he'll break your heart" (if one more person is like "he pulled the cancer card" i'll lose my mind, he JUST found out abt it ofc they're intertwined emotions, and conundrum's whole personality is the cancer card so what?) and stops talking to belly, but is perfectly polite to them and privately, kindly, and calmly sets a boundary with conrad. conrad asks if belly only kissed jeremiah to make him jealous (which is so fucked, jesus), and then makes some weird creepy allusion to crashing the car bc he's mad, slut shames jeremiah, calls jeremiah (and belly but this is abt conrad and jere) stupid, picks at jeremiah, asks who the better kisser is, tells him he doesn't know belly, and then refuses to talk to jeremiah until jeremiah forces him to. and he's supposed to be the better brother? also, the "conrad asked for jeremiah's blessing first, jeremiah didn't" one, he at least knew a little bit that jeremiah and belly had a thing, hence why he texted her at the party, and then kissed her anyway. THEN after finding out jeremiah had feelings for her he says "it's jere, he doesn't take anything seriously, be with me" and then when belly (bc if it was up to him they'd be together) said she didn't wanna get together until jeremiah was okay with it, he lied to her to get with her. everyone talks abt the scene where he finds jere doing the bills alone and leaves him there after manipulating him into getting his blessing, but nobody talks about the line jere has "i can't believe you'd come here like this" bc he hasn't been there. he came home to ask jeremiah for his blessing and nothing else. he didn't even try to help jere with the bills. then asks jeremiah if he wants a medal when he talks about how hard it was taking care of susannah? yes, jeremiah shouldn't have said what he said, but the difference is this is one fight that's been bottled up for months, vs conrad consistently crossing the line and hurting jeremiah. him telling him to grow up was soooo unfair. he always picks at jeremiah's insecurities and blames jeremiah for forgiving adam when we don't even know if jeremiah (in the show) knows abt him cheating, and adam is the only family jeremiah (barely) has left. two, conrad getting with belly was planned, belly and jeremiah's kiss wasn't. three, conrad confessed his feeling to belly the night before her and jeremiah's wedding. that's. so. fucked. but jeremiah goes to their wedding, belly blows him a kiss and he just turns away. he tells him he just wants them to be happy. he even tells belly he won't be upset if she chooses conrad in s2. he convinces belly and conrad to talk about their feelings in s2. but the firework, a single fight, and a kiss make him a terrible person.

#jeremiah fisher #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp #tsitp jeremiah #belly conklin #conrad fisher #belly x jeremiah #tsitp belly #tsitp conrad #belly x conrad #sorry if that's hard to understand #ik it's a lot #but he's such a bad brother #and it's so glorified #and so fucked #anti bonrad #anti conrad fisher