#and my arms are getting tired so I'll leave it here

[caramelkoo]

kiss me? jjk.

the one with gentle hands and endless kisses

genre : husband!jungkook, "i can do it myself"!reader, "i know, but let me do it for you"!jungkook

warnings : fluff, more fluff, brief smut, words of affirmation as love language, jungkook takes care of her, oc is so relatable i cried, jungkook being the best husband ever. let me know if i missed something.

a/n : hello besties, here's a little fluffy ☁️ gift for you since im obsessed with husband koo. tysm for loving my previous writings im beyond grateful. the fact that people out there are reading what i write is making me jump from happiness. enjoy and you're loved.

"There she is, my favorite girl" Jungkook's plasters a sloppy kiss on your cheek. His sweaty body connecting with your freshly showered one but you don't mind. Not when the first thing he says is that you're his favorite girl after his early morning gym session. The phrase never fails to make you turn red.

Last night Jungkook had briefly mentioned his wish to have chocolate covered strawberries because apparently, the ones you make are his absolute favorite. So here you were, making chocolate covered strawberries for him.

"I missed you" he lifts himself up on the hard counter and leans back on his palms. He attempts to dip his index finger into the melted chocolate but you swat his hand away.

"You were literally gone for two hours and get down the counter, Jungkook!!!! You're all sweaty" you warn him.

"But you like me sweaty" he gives you the same look he hits you with when you don't let him eat the last piece of pizza. Pouty and adorable.

"No doubt about it but I'll have to clean it again, honey." when the look doesn't leave his face you speak again.

"Okay if you get down now, I'll let you fuck me in the shower" you've barely even finished the remark before he hops off the counter and runs towards the bathroom.

"I HAVE THE BEST WIFE EVER" his voice trails off.

Knowing the fact that he'll not let you live it down if you don't live up to your words, you wipe your hands and join him in the shower. You let him eat you out under the cold water and then pound into you as you struggle to keep your knees from giving out.

The loud sneeze echoes through the room as you wipe your nose which now feels like the 50th time. Tiring.

When you came out of the shower you were perfectly fine. When your nose started stinging, you didn't think much of it then too. Before you knew it, you were sneezing three times in a row with a fever which only keeps getting worse.

Jungkook had immediately wrapped you up in a fluffy blanket and asked you to take a nap as he cooks some porridge for you. At the risk of sounding selfish, whenever you're sick you're tend to crave his closeness more and more. You hate it though, you know it puts him at the risk of sickness but you can't help it. He looks cozy and so so comfy, you just want to snuggle with him and doze off.

After all, he's your safe place, your own personal haven with a gorgeous smile and warm embrace and he's well aware of the fact that you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself when you're sick, perfectly capable of running yourself a bath when you want to, skilled enough to wear that piece of jewellery around your neck.

However, he'd still run a bath for you with rose petals and scented candles, still ask you to lift your hair up when he clicks the pendant close before placing a kiss at the nape of your neck, still cook for you when you're sick and kiss you goodnight before he takes you in his arms and falls into deep slumber, still whisper into the darkness that he wishes he could take away all your pain upon himself thinking you're fast asleep.

Just like now as he places the tray, the bowl of porridge on top of it alongside your medicines, a glass of water and gummy bears because he knows that you're not fond of the bitter aftertaste of the medicines.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he touches your clammy forehead before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Feeling any better, love?"

When you shake your head, his eyebrows crinkle in worry.

"I feel like throwing up but when I try nothing comes out" your lips open with a sigh.

His face gets remarkably worried. Not like he's wearing any other expression ever since you've started sniffing and stifling. You feel like shit. Earlier in the morning he's informed you about Namjoon's house warming party and was so excited to visit his best friend. Now he has to stay here and take care of your sick self when he should be with him, having the time of his life.

"I'm sorry you couldn't go to the party" your voice is brittle and you stop yourself from breaking down right there.

"Honey no, you're more important to me than any fucking party. Are you crazy? Besides, he would have poked my eyeballs out had I gone there and told him I left you here, sick and all by yourself."

The kiss that he places on your forehead is soft and tender causing you to close your eyes and bask in the love behind it.

"C'mon, get up and eat something. You'll feel so much better with your tummy full."

When you find it hard to get up all by yourself, you know it's more than just a cold now. You feel a headache coming.

Jungkook helps you sit up against the headboard as he picks up the bowl, taking a spoonful of porridge and holding it out for you to eat.

Your lips quiver and a sob threatens to break out, you hang your head low so he can't see the tears forming behind your droopy eyes but fail when your chest shakes with a sob.

Jungkook panics, quickly placing the bowl on the tray beside him, "Hey, what's going on? What's happening?"

You face him and open your arms, "Can you hold me for a while?" You're crying now. Tears stream down your face as your nose stings even more.

He wastes no time to take you in his arms, hands rubbing your back and then holding the back of your head as if he's cradling a baby. Holding you oh so gently like you might break and maybe you will. Maybe you will break because of how overwhelmed you are and how lousy you feel.

"It's alright, honey. Cry all you want, I'll hold you."

So you do, letting your head fall on his shoulder you cry out all the emotions you're feeling hoping you'd feel lighter by the time you're done. You're thankful for his silence. He understands, he always does and you understand him in return.

Your husband's hands don't stop moving for once. Constantly rubbing your back, running through your hair, gently massaging the back of your neck to release any tension. It's so funny how a tattooed hand like that which might look intimidating to strangers can be so soft and tender for you. For everyone in general, Jungkook is indeed the most gentle person you've ever known.

After what feels like eternity, you lift your head and break the hug. You lean back against the headboard as he speaks.

"Do you wanna tell me what caused that?" he asks in a careful voice.

You're still not in the space to talk so you shake your head and say, "Maybe later?"

"Whenever you feel like it, I'm here. But I wanna say something and I want you to listen carefully alright?" he waits for your nod before continuing,

"When we were about to get married, I had a chat with your father. He told me that you have a tendency to feel like a liability on people and you beat yourself up over somebody taking care of you, doing things for you, showing up for you because you'd rather do them by yourself. And then I promised him something. I promised him that I'll do anything, and I mean anything to not make you feel like that. I will manage to eat three bites less but I will never let you sleep with an empty stomach."

He kisses the back of your hands as you sniffle, scared that the tears might come back.

"So when I do things like this for you, skip my best friend's house warming party for you or doing anything for you for that matter, It's not because you're a burden. It's because you're mine and you'd do the same for me. I want to take care of you, honey. I like to. I love you the most _____, you're my everything and I can't fucking breathe when you're suffering like this."

Well fuck, the tears are back.

"Now, finish this and let me hold you to sleep" he helps you eat the porridge before you gulp down the medicines. The gummy bears follow.

With his help you lie back down on the bed as he saunters back to the kitchen, promising you to be back soon.

You're not surprised Jungkook knew the reason you broke down. You wouldn't expect any less from him and as always he has a way of making you feel loved and mattered with his words. Your husband is a gift and you want this particular gift in all your lifetimes, in every form.

He comes back with a bottle of water in his hand. He places it on the nightstand and joins you on the bed.

You stop him with a hand on his chest when he drops his head down to kiss you on the lips.

"You're gonna catch a cold" you warn.

"As if I care. Please baby, let me kiss you. You know I can't sleep without kissing you goodnight"

The chuckle that leaves you makes Jungkook's whole face light up.

"Only if you let me trace your tattoos"

"I promise" he says with the softest smile on his face.

Pouting your lips, you invite him for a kiss which he gladly places on your lip. His pillowy ones lingering for some seconds before pulling away. He kisses your cheeks next, your temples, your nose, your jaw and then finally, both of your eyes which were now damp from all the crying. Although, that didn't seem to bother him.

"I love kissing you"

When he plops back down on the bed, he pulls your entire body on top of his with your head tucked into the crook of his neck. He feels so warm and cozy, you never want to let go. He would be fine with that too.

"Honey?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you so fucking much. Let's make a baby when you get better"

"I love you too, husband. I wouldn't mind having a little one like you"

[kingkat12]

hickeys (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, mentions of sex, softcore-y smut, tw!bullying, Roman using his powers for no good, he's being so weird about virgin!reader, angsty fluff lol

summary: after having sacrificed your friendship with Letha for Roman's limited understanding of love and affection, you suddenly learn the consequences of your actions...

word count: 7,406 (you know me, not sorry anymore)

a/n: this is part 4 of my series seven minutes in heaven! click here to read; part 1, part 2, part 3! enjoy!!!<33

Roman had a hickey right on the side of his throat. Thankfully, I knew who gave him that one-- me.

It dawned on me that I had never seen him with one before. Despite how easy it was for me to get lost in the feelings of joy, finding a sense of pride at being the only one allowed to do that to him, I remembered Roman hadn't always been open to these sorts of things. He had warmed up to it gradually, with everything starting as a small incident at my place a week ago.

We had been splayed out on my bed, my face buried in his chest as I took a casual mid-day nap on top of him. It had become a habit-- Roman would come over, we'd bicker about something, then make out for about an hour until he decided to take his smoke break on my balcony. But today was different; the both of us had just finished a rather hard math test, so we were absolutely spent by the time we hit my bed. Roman didn't even have the energy to smoke, and seeing how tired he was, I decided to be bold and cuddle up to him; however, I hadn't expected us to fall asleep like this.

Weirdly enough, he didn't resist my advances. He'd usually start feeling uncomfortable as he wasn't used to affection like this, but today, Roman had his arms around me as I laid with my head on top of his chest. I had been a little embarrassed to wake up to the sight of a tiny puddle of my drool on his sweater, and I tapped the spot with my fingers as though that would make it go away.

Roman awoke, groggy. He let out a low grunt as he raised his head, trying to get a look at what I was doing. "Is that what I think it is?--"

"No," My words barely came out louder than a whisper, now covering the spot with my palm as I looked up at him with a soft smile. "Did you sleep well?"

Roman, being the stubborn asshole he was, didn't even register my question. "Did you drool on me?"

Oh God, this was mortifying. I figured he'd find out anyway; I slowly removed my hand from the spot, sliding off him. "Sorry..." As I rolled over, my back against the bed, I could only sigh. Being Roman's unofficial official girlfriend was hard, especially now that I didn't have any friends to discuss it with. 

However, there were moments where the hardships were worth it. Moments like these ones, where Roman now flipped over and unexpectedly snuggled up to me, his face hiding in the crook of my neck. "I've never been drooled on like that before," he said, his words muffled in my hair. "This is my favourite sweater."

With wary movements, I brought one hand up to his brown locks, gently stroking through them. I wasn't sure what the next sound from Roman was, but the closest thing would be a purr. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, my other hand running up and down his broad back. "Want me to buy you a new one?"

Roman huffed; "Don't be stupid. I'll just leave it in the washer here if you don't mind," 

"The washer?" My hands froze, no longer ghosting over his skin with gentle touches. "It will dry up in a second, Roman, get yourself together. And even worse, I might get the urge to wear it if you leave it here." I immediately regretted that joke the second it slipped past my lips-- in hopes of brushing over it, scared he'd climb off me and go back to being his usual self, I resumed running my fingers through his hair and up his back.

To my surprise, Roman didn't react much. The only thing I could notice was a rather shaky breath against my neck, almost as though he had just had a really tempting thought. Eventually, he spoke; "It wouldn't fit you very well,"

I did my best to shrug, although that was hard to do with someone on top of me. "That's not the premise," I huffed. "People usually wear each others' stuff when they're into one another. It's a cute thing."

"... So you'd want me to leave my sweater here?" Roman eventually propped himself up on his elbows, meeting my gaze. "Why? It's not like you'd be able to wear it anywhere."

It was in moments like these that I realized how little Roman actually knew about girls. He was supposedly very good in bed, but with feelings and affection? He was like a very aggressive puppy with gorgeous fur-- some men you simply have to train to be soft. "I'd wear it at home," I said, reaching out to brush his messed up hair away from his green eyes. "Especially when it's stormy outside and I'm doing my homework."

Something about my words seemed to be leaving small cracks in Roman's shell-- had I not been so observant, I wouldn't have noticed the way his pupils dilated or the way his features softened as he looked at me. "Would it be a one-way thing?" he asked; was I imagining things, or did he sound shy? "You get my sweater, and I get..."  Roman propped himself up further, taking a quick glance around my room. It didn't take long before his eyes landed on the plain, black hair ties on my nightstand, and he wasted no time reaching for two in one go. "I get these."

Seeing him so serious about this exchange was too funny-- I couldn't help the giggle building in my chest, suppressing a rather obnoxious laugh. "Yeah, I think that's smart," I murmured, stroking my thumb over his cheek. "Your hair is getting a little long... Would probably make your life easier."

Roman rolled his eyes, huffing. "It's not exactly like you have anything else lying around here!"

There was no way in hell I was about to tell him that my room was this clean because I had predicted he'd come over. "Okay, but it still works," I reached for his hand, taking the ties into my palm before rolling them over his fingers, watching as the rubber bands now sat comfortably at his wrist. "There you go!" I exclaimed, beaming up at a rather perplexed Roman. "Sweater, please."

It took a few seconds for him to react-- his eyes fixated on the black rubber ties around his wrist, and before I knew it, I saw slivers of pink appearing on his cheeks. I had never seen him react to anything like this before, and I had no idea why Roman was suddenly unmistakably blushing. "Fuck," he breathed. "That's cute." 

To hide his blush, he quickly wried his sweater off his body, throwing it away on a chair nearby before burying his face in the crook of my neck again, putting his whole weight back on me. "Promise to use it for dirty stuff too," he grumbled, probably to save face, before pressing a kiss to my neck. 

I was happy Roman didn't see how brightly I was smiling-- I would've been told off immediately, and he'd most likely retract right back into his shell. It was unusual for him to accept any sort of affection, and I wondered whether he had let anyone this close before. The more I got to know Roman, the more he was sleepy and babbling around me, I realized that I had to gradually ease physical kindness into his life to make our weird whatever-ship work. 

The whatever-ship I had sacrificed everything for.

And I would've spiraled deeper into thoughts about it, but the sudden pressure I felt against my neck made me snap out of it-- I realized he was giving me a rather hefty hickey, a familiar tingling sensation coursing its way through my body. I let out a satisfied sigh, my fingers burying themselves deeper into Roman's hair as he moved elsewhere on my neck to make a second one. "These will go well with the sweater," he purred against my skin.

I held back a shiver-- The hate I had once felt for him had quickly turned into whatever this was. All I knew, was that it felt good enough to distract me from the guilt that kept gnawing at me after betraying Letha the way I did. ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next day at school actually marked a month since the last time Letha and I had spoken on the bleachers. A month of staring at her longingly from afar like a kicked puppy and asking our mutual friends how she was. It didn't take long before they all heard what had happened between Roman and I, and they suddenly became Letha's friends only.

I didn't know how lonely I would be after I chose Roman, and it was slowly breaking my heart. Being blacklisted by nearly all the girls at school was tough, to say the least. 

So as I rummaged around my locker, getting ready for my next class, I didn't expect Letha to approach. There was no way I could imagine she'd do that, especially after the way she had been denying all my attempts of reconciliation. But here she was, blonde hair styled to perfection, and her green, stern eyes meeting mine the second I closed my locker door.

I stared right back, at a loss for words despite opening my mouth to speak. 

Letha cleared her throat, pressing her books tightly against her chest. "It's been a month," she tried, something about her softening with the weight of her words. "I think I might be ready to... talk."

My heart jumped up like never before, immediately thrown into a feeling of ecstatic victory. "What?" I squeaked, unable to stop my beaming look of joy. "Are you serious?" 

Letha shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek to suppress her smile. "I think it's time to try, at least?--" Her words came to a halt the second I turned to face her fully, and her green eyes immediately found my neck. 

My hair had moved to behind my shoulders as I turned around, revealing the hickeys I had tried my best to cover with setting powder and foundation. It didn't take long before Letha's softening look became one of horror as she took a step back, clearly repulsed.

I immediately went into panic, piecing it together. "No, Letha, wait!--"

There was no stopping Letha before she turned on her heel, bolting down the corridor with heavy steps. 

I turned back towards my locker, pressing my forehead against it. There was no way in hell I'd let everyone see me cry in public again. It felt as though Letha had dug her hand into my chest and ripped out my heart, now squeezing it until it finally popped. My breath hitched as I stepped away from the locker, sniffling as I felt a sob build.

Just as I was about to leave and get to class somehow, the familiar scent of cinnamon entered my system. "What did Letha want?" Roman asked, his hands tucked into his pockets as he approached. His brows were drawn together in a disapproving look as he watched Letha disappear down the hallway in unmatched hurry, and I got a good glance at him when I finally turned around to face him. How long had he been watching me from afar?

Roman's glare quickly faded away when his attention shifted and he noticed the way my eyes had glossed over. His whole tough look disappeared within a sliver of a second, and I was unsure whether he noticed it himself. "... Nothing good, I see?"

I shied away from his gaze, my eyes darting down to my shoes. "She wanted to make up all until she saw... well," To demonstrate, I turned a little, showing Roman the once blank canvas which was now covered in about six hickeys that I counted last night. It was clear to me that my attempt at hiding them had failed.

Roman could only sigh, an infuriating grin now spreading across his face. "I'm going to say sorry now, but know that I don't fully mean it because... the sight of you like this is so damn hot," He leaned down, pressing his lips against my forehead as he took my face into his hands. I couldn't help but notice that he was still wearing my two black rubber bands just as my breath hitched at the loving gesture.

Something about the kiss made my heart skip, but another part was ripping at me; Roman clearly cared more about the fact that he had marked me than how upset I was. I hummed in response, not knowing what else to say before much later; "Don't do that,"

"Do what?"

"Don't kiss me like that," I mumbled, pressing my back against my locker to make as much space between us as possible. "Just... Don't." 

Roman's first reaction was on display with a stunned expression, up until his brows drew together in what I could only read as annoyance. "Fine," he said, teeth gritted. His hands fell down at his sides, trying to save face as he took a step away from me; "I'm just trying to make you feel a little better, it's not that fucking deep." In true Godfrey fashion, he also proceeded to storm down the hallway, clearly flustered after being shut down.

I had to take a long breath-- this was a lot to take in for one day. Roman being in denial about his feelings also didn't help much. I wanted to run after him, grab his hand and tell him that he could do absolutely whatever he wanted with me, that I'd love for him to kiss me like that once more, but I knew I couldn't.

It was hard to believe how badly I had fallen for a guy who could barely regulate his own feelings. Someone who insisted on making it apparent to everyone that I was his without actually wanting to put a name to it. I let out a sigh, watching Roman get further and further away. Something told me I maybe should've followed him, at least asked him whether he wanted to come to my place later and sleep next to each other, but my plans quickly fell apart when I witnessed the one thing I hated seeing most in the world.

In the midst of his angry storm-off, Roman managed to turn his head to allow for his eyes to follow a girl with an exceptionally short skirt passing him by. 

I wanted to throw up-- the hungry look in his eyes made me nauseous. Everything about Roman looking at someone in the way he usually looked at me made me want to burst into tears all over again. 

No matter what I felt for him, one thing would never change; I hated Roman Godfrey. I hated him and the way he made me feel like a stomped bug. Hated the way he'd look at me after he'd make me cum around his fingers, the way he'd stroke my hair away from my forehead with the gentlest touch as I fell asleep, and the way he'd insist on driving me everywhere just to spend some extra time together.

I hated him. I hated this feeling, and especially what it had done to me, my friendships, and my reputation.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

... Thoughts of my reputation went out the window now that Roman was back in my bed. Nothing suggestive, of course-- he was currently half asleep next to me. Even more heartwarming, was the fact that he still wore my two hair ties around his wrist, and I could get a proper look at him now that he was resting. I loved this feeling; we were both wearing the items we had exchanged.

"It looks good on you," he mumbled, tugging me closer with the arm he had around me. "My sweater. I thought I would hate seeing you in it, but it's not so bad."

My body was halfway on top of his, and I couldn't help but giggle as he pressed me closer to his chest. "Why did you think you'd hate it?" I adored the feeling of being completely engulfed in Roman-- the lingering scent of his perfume stuck to the gigantic sweater I was in, and his big arms around me made all my pain feel worth it. 

All up until Roman hummed, eyes still closed as his hands raked through my hair; "You wearing my stuff makes it real... Like you're mine. I don't know whether I want that responsibility,"

I could only sigh, unsure whether I should let my heart sink just yet. Sometimes, it was best to dig around in Roman's mud of a brain before settling for the version he wanted me to believe. "So you would be okay if I was with someone else?"

Roman opened one eye, glancing down at me as he raised a brow. "Are you with someone else?"

"... No,"

"Would you want to be?"

What an odd question; one he didn't need to know the truth of. "Would you care if I did?"

Roman opened his second eye, now scouring my face to check for cracks in my facade. Something told me he wasn't buying it, but that he wasn't about to take any chances. Eventually, he scoffed, rolling his eyes before closing them again; "Fuck off,"

"Fuck off yourself," I mumbled, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I tried to dull out the fact that his arm automatically wrapped itself tighter around me before I spoke once more; "Answer the question."

"Why?" Roman shifted, pulling my whole body on top of his, letting out a satisfied sigh now that all of my weight was laid on him. "It's a stupid question. Why can't we just enjoy this moment?"

He had a point, sure-- I just didn't deem it enough. "I hope you remember that I have a lot on the line here," I placed my hands next to his head, pushing myself up to get a proper look at him. Roman eventually opened his big, green eyes, and they quickly rounded out as they met mine. Everything about looking into his eyes made me want to squeal and pepper him with kisses; this was dangerous territory. I knew had to pull myself together; "I have, like... zero friends because of this. Because I chose you. And you not wanting to take on that responsibility or whatever it was that you called it, makes me feel like crap. You make me feel like crap." 

It was clear that Roman was holding his breath without thinking about it. He stared up at me, unsure what to say; "... All the time?"

"What?"

"Do I make you feel like crap all the time?"

That was certainly a way to spin it-- taken aback, I furrowed my brows as I pondered the question. "Not... all the time, no,"

Roman hummed; he seemed content with that answer. "I know you're upset about the whole Letha thing," he said, his big hands traveling down to grab at my hips as he shifted me to sit in his lap. "I also see that I'm not exactly helping the situation, but... you can't keep blaming me for your decision."

"... Okay," His request was simple enough-- I was ready to adhere to his wishes. "But then you have to say it out loud."

"Say what?"

"That you like me,"

I watched as Roman's eyes widened, his grip on my hips tightening. His whole body tensed up, unsure whether to speak or not. It was clear that he was conflicted about how to tread forward, and I held my breath the second his plush lips parted. Roman sat up, his back now supported by my headboard. Like this, I was sat in his lap with my arms draped around his neck, and he connected our foreheads with a sigh. Roman's words eventually came out like a slow, warm whisper; "I don't know what I feel," 

It felt as though my heart had lodged itself into my throat-- what? I was about to start arguing with him, cursing him out for dragging me through the mud for nothing, all until Roman suddenly reached for my hand. He placed my palm over his heart, his eyes finding mine as he steadied his breathing. "I don't know what I feel," he echoed. "But I know that looking at you makes my heart beat faster. Feel how hard it's going?" He pressed my hand further up against his chest, something about his touch giving away the sincere nature of this gesture. I hadn't seen Roman doing anything this romantic before, and everything was practically perfect all up until he opened his dumb teenage mouth; "I'm serious. It usually only beats like this when I look at pictures of Sydney Sweeney in a swimsuit."

That's it-- I groaned and ripped my hand out of his grip. "Okay, that's enough. You need to leave, it's almost midnight," In an attempt to climb off him, I almost made it out of his lap before his hands grabbed my hips once more, forcing me back down as I yelped. My eyes widened as they met Roman's, watching his signature smirk spread across his lips. 

"Where do you think you're going in my sweater?" he purred, suppressing a chuckle. "My sweater, my rules. Give me a kiss before I leave, at least."

I huffed as I snaked my arms around his neck, feeling his hot breath against my lips. "And why should I kiss you?"

"Because you want to?" Roman didn't care to try to suppress his grin, gently nudging my nose with his as his grip on my waist tightened. His voice dropped, getting airy as he whispered against my lips; "You want to so bad."

Everything about him made the butterflies in my stomach flutter-- it didn't help that his hair was tousled in a classic heartbreaker look, along with how ridiculously soft his lips suddenly looked. 

Roman definitely noticed the reddening of my cheeks, concluding why I had gone mute. "Don't be like that," he teased, not doing a good job with hiding his amusement. "Just kiss me first, for once. Have you noticed that you never initiate anything?"

I held my breath-- "I just... don't know what I'm doing," My confession was unexpected, but it felt nice to get it off my chest. "I don't want you to think I'm clueless."

"But you are?" Roman's chuckle was one of mischief as his hands shamelessly trailed down my body, now grabbing my ass as he pushed me closer to him. "It's not a bad thing. Just means I can program you to my liking."

I didn't even act as though I wanted his hands off of me, giving in to his antics. Something about the way he was holding me made me feel awfully warm-- maybe it was time to take off the sweater? "Tell me what you like, then," I purred, putting my hands on his chest. I figured that if I had gone down this route, I'd continue my path with conviction. 

Roman's smirk only grew, letting out a breathy laugh against my lips as he gave my ass a firm squeeze. "That's my girl," he cooed. "We'll start simple." He nudged his nose against mine once more, his lips parting before his words came out in a hot whisper against mine; "Kiss me."

His words were too alluring to deny-- I leaned forward, my hands carefully laying against his broad shoulder as I kissed him. A sigh of satisfaction escaped Roman, who immediately dug his hands into the flesh of my behind to tug me closer. Everything about the way he was reacting to me reminded me of our first date, and the way he had held and kissed me in the alley when we were hiding from Letha. 

The kiss was slow, almost lazy; something about the moonlight hitting us was making it more intense. It mostly consisted of small, loving pecks, and many pauses to simply smile against one another. I wondered whether he had ever kissed anyone like this before, with a softness I didn't see in him very often. 

It was hard to believe that this was the same guy that had me running around scared for him to prick me with needles. The only thing pricking me right now was the hardening of Roman's cock beneath me. With every twitch, every time his hands dug into my hips in an attempt to grind me against him, I could only grin into the kiss. There wasn't exactly anything sexual about this kiss, but he would always get hard from the smallest little things-- I couldn't help but find pride in it. At least this was another confirmation that he wanted me.

Roman eventually grew frustrated, now trying to rut up against me just for any sort of friction. With that, I grabbed the headboard, raising myself with my knees so that he wouldn't succeed. As he groaned, I had to bite down on my growing smile; the look on his gorgeous face was too damn thrilling.

Roman's eyes were round, his chest sinking with a shaky exhale as a rosy flush lingered in his cheeks. "Anything," he breathed. "Just give me anything. I'll take it."

"Anything?" I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at; "What do you mean?"

His hands grabbed at my waist, signalizing that he wanted me to sit down on his arousal once more-- perhaps that felt like a relief in itself? Roman stared up at me through his brows, his fingers digging into my flesh. "I'm not asking you for sex. I'm being nice. So I'm saying I'll take anything you'll give me... Even the smallest thing," He leaned forward, pressing a wet kiss against my neck which had me losing my breath within seconds, now whispering against my skin; "Just touch me." Roman's needy kisses trailed up my neck, jaw, and cheeks until his breath was hot against my ear. "However you want. Don't be shy, try it out."

Something told me that Roman was secretly into me being a virgin, after all this time of making fun of me for it. However, I wasn't about to say no to the opportunity to explore with the Roman Godfrey, and I eventually sat back down on his arousal, my cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red at the sound of his muffled grunt. 

My hands went up into his soft hair, pressing a kiss against his temple as my fingers stroked through his locks. "There's one thing I might want to try..."

Roman turned to nip at my jaw, his hands traveling back down to my ass. "Go for it,"

I didn't want to give him time to change his mind; my hand in his hair tightened, pulling him away from me with an unexpected roughness. I was about to apologize until I noticed the way Roman closed his eyes, and the way his lips parted in what looked like pleasure. It suddenly dawned on me that he might be the type to like a little pain, not only cause it. However, I wasn't ready to explore that at the moment-- I had another thought to attend to. 

Roman's head lolled back against the headboard as I leaned down to kiss his neck, and it was clear to me that he was enjoying himself. It was only when his fingers dug themselves back into the flesh of my behind that I got the confidence to pull through with my original plan; I sucked down on a particular spot, hard enough to leave a mark.

I didn't need to see his face to know that Roman's eyes were wide open with the realization of what was happening. I was ready for him to push me away, tell me off, tell me to stop-- but his arms only wrapped around me, pulling me closer in a swift motion that had me grinding up against his hard cock, and Roman let out a sigh of pleasure as he let himself be marked with a blooming hickey. 

Something told me I had to be somewhat special for him to allow me to do such a thing, and it quickly dawned on me that I had never felt this happy with anyone before, despite his shortcomings. 

I liked Roman more than I had ever liked anyone before, and I had an inkling that he felt the same. Who knew something so simple could feel so incredibly good?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Knowing I had Roman wrapped around my finger, despite him not being able to properly say it out loud, had me floating around in my own little bubble. Everything concerning Letha suddenly felt irrelevant, and it wasn't taking up as much space in my mind as before. All I could think about was the way Roman had smiled at me as he passed me in the hall, the red hickey on the side of his neck peeking out past his shirt. The cherry on top of it were the two hair ties he still wore around his wrist-- he was enjoying this, wasn't he?

However, I was yanked back into the absolute shitshow I had caused for myself concerning my girlfriends later that same day.

My previous friends had never done anything more than glare at me from across the hall. Maybe the occasional overdramatic huff when they passed me, an extra eye-roll my way, and so I did my best to not pay it any mind. 

Which is why I was so shocked when the proceeding followed. 

It didn't bother me to sit alone at lunch-- not anymore, at least. I wasn't about to reach out to Roman to ask where he was and whether I could join him either; but just as I picked up my phone, ready put away my nerves and text him, my gaze was diverted from the screen and to the three girls that sat down in front of me.

I held my breath, my eyes widening with the realization that my previous best friends were staring at me with the nastiest looks I had probably ever seen.

Oh no.

Breathing deeply, I did my best to harden my gaze and keep my guard up. "What do you want, Jasmine?" I asked, putting my phone down on the table as I stared down the girl in the middle. Jasmine was the one I had liked the least in our friend group, and I wasn't surprised that she was the one to take action-- the rest of the girls always followed her like dogs, and it had always made me sick; especially now that they were sititng by her like docile animals.

Jasmine cleared her throat, leaning further over the table in an attempt to intimidate me; "We're just here to make you aware of something,"

"Which is...?"

Taken aback by my lack of reaction, Jasmine's eye twitched just slightly as the girls next to her grew more and more uncomfortable. "Letha told me what she saw on your neck this morning. And sitting this close to you, I see it too... Do you not understand how it makes you look?"

There was no way for me to hold back my sarcasm; "How does it make me look? Do indulge, Jas," I couldn't even hold back my grimace at this point. "Why does it even matter to you?"

Jasmine's eye twitched once more, and she slammed her hands against the table with a loud thud. "What upsets Letha, upsets me! I'm just glad I found out what kind of person you truly are, and it brings me immense joy to realize everyone is starting to catch on to the truth as well!"

Despite how hard I attempted to stay neutral, unaffected, and unfazed, I couldn't do anything about the way my heart sunk. I couldn't even muster up anything to counter Jasmine's words, taken aback by the bluntness of my previous friend.

"Letha really wanted to reconcile, do you know that?" Jasmine continued, an evil snicker building in her throat. "But it's fucking disgusting that you walk around like you're proud to be fucking Roman Godfrey, especially when you know how much you've hurt her. Fucking traitor!"

Before I could protest, she reached for my phone which I had left unattended. There was barely any time to pry it out of Jasmine's hands before she stood up and smashed it into the table, the rest of her posse scurrying away from the table before the pieces of glass could hit them. I didn't have to look to know that the whole cafeteria was watching this scene play out; it was only when I heard gasps coming from around us that I truly realized the extent of what had happened.

As the glass from my phone had bounced off the table, the sharp pieces flying in every direction, I had covered my face with my hands. So, when I slowly pried them away from my eyes, turning them around to identify where the stinging of my skin was coming from, my eyes fell on the three pieces of glass lodged into the back of my hands. It wasn't too deep, not enough to scar or cause real damage, but damn-- it burned like crazy. 

With tears in my eyes, I watched as Jasmine snickered, clearly unaffected by the fact that she had caused me physical harm; "We're ready to make your life a living hell," she hissed. "That'll show you. Fucking whore."

Something inside me broke. Usually, I would've fought back, I would've said something-- but I froze. Completely. I had never felt anything like this, the mix of both physical and mental pain turning me to stone.

Fuck. Was this truly how everyone saw me? Nothing more than one of Roman's countless whores?

I knew this would haunt me for the following weeks to come, and I couldn't fight the way my mind shut down. The need to get away overcame me; with shaky steps, I got up from my table, realizing I was about to leave school despite the day not being finished. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I had avoided Roman like the plague for the rest of the day-- I was almost as broken as my phone. I held the pieces in my hands under the dim lights of my desk in my room, nudging the glass around on the table. My phone had completely shattered, now just a heap of technology I held onto for the sake of nostalgia in a deep state of shock.

I kept glancing at my hands, my fingers ghosting over the three thin cuts that had parted my skin. They were thankfully not that grotesque to look at, and I was quite sure I could play it off as a scratch from a particularly large cat if anyone asked. 

Or... so I hoped. 

I wondered whether Letha knew about what had happened. Did she condone it? Had she been the one who ordered Jasmine and her gang to mess with me? Everything about this situation made my head spin-- Choosing Roman might've been the wrong decision. I kept thinking about an alternative universe in which I had never asked him to kiss me in the first place, or one where I had told Letha about my feelings for her cousin before it was too late.

It dawned on me that I had mostly likely made the wrong choice-- how was I supposed to deal with this?

Just as I was about to toss the remnants of my phone into the nearby bin, I heard a few knocks at my window which made me turn towards the sound. There he was, the last rays of today's sunlight making the bronze hues in his hair shine through; Roman tapped against the glass once more, eyes round with an emotion I couldn't piece together from afar.

I walked towards the window and opened it, leaning against the frame as I spoke; "What are you doing here?" My tone was sharper than expected-- seeing him didn't exactly make me feel any better.

"You haven't answered my messages," Roman didn't seem to be in a hurry about getting off my roof, making himself comfortable by sitting down by the window. "All day. Radio silence. I'm not really used to that from you, so... just checking to see whether you're having a stroke or something."

I did my best not to roll my eyes; "A stroke?"

"I don't know?" Roman shrugged, his green eyes never leaving mine. "What other explanation is there for a girl not answering me?"

I grimaced as I watched his expression. It was impossible to push down the intense feelings of frustration when I looked at him, all my love for him manifesting back to its usual hate-- I wouldn't have been in this situation if I hadn't met him. This was technically just as much his fault as mine. 

Why did he look so confused? It suddenly hit me that he was being dead serious; he didn't get it at all. He genuinely couldn't find another reason for my absence. "Oh," was what I managed to say, clearing my throat as I sat down on the window sill. "Have you not heard?" 

Roman blinked twice, clearly lost as he looked up at me. "Heard what?"

My eyes darted down to my hands, which I had covered with the sleeves of Roman's sweater without even thinking about it. "I thought everyone would be talking about it," I mumbled. "I guess that's a relief, then."

"What are you talking about?" The green of his eyes nearly swallowed me, and I found a tiny trace of genuine concern behind them, so miniscule I could barely notice it. "What happened?"

I wanted to disappear into a heap of nothing; it was so embarrassing that I had let this happen. My pride was definitely trying to choke the life out of me. "My phone broke," I breathed, automatically reaching for the hem of the sweatshirt out of nervous habit-- I felt my cheeks flush, nervous to be revisiting the moment that had haunted me all day.

Roman's brows furrowed, unsure how to react; "You made it sound like something really bad had happened. I could buy you a new one, no problem," He watched me pick at the sweatshirt, now reaching out for my hands to stop my destructive fidgeting.

I let out the breath I had been holding the second our fingers intertwined, feeling the roughness of his hands against mine. My eyes rested on the black hair ties he still wore around his wrist, a blooming warmth igniting in my chest and wading through all my anger. I was so swept up in the moment, comforted by the way he squeezed my hands twice, that I didn't catch the moment the sleeves of the sweater bunched up and revealed the cuts on the back of my hands. "You don't need to buy me a new phone, don't be ridiculous," I said, watching a single strand of his brown hair slowly fall over his eyes as he glanced down. "I'd feel bad--"

"What's this?" Roman's grip around my hands tightened, now bringing them up to his face. 

It felt as though my breath had gotten lodged in my throat as I watched Roman's widening green eyes scan the surface of my hands. His brows drew together once more, thumbs swiping over the unhealed wounds. The touch made me hiss, attempting to get out of his grip, but to no avail. "It's the neighbour's cat," I tried. "I bent down to pet it, and--"

"This is not from a cat," Roman's gaze darted up to meet mine, suddenly a lot more intense than usual. "I'll ask you again, what happened?"

I tried to squirm out of his hold once more; "It's not important, Roman... Forget it, please. Actually, I'm going to have to ask you to leave--"

"Tell me,"

"No, seriously, drop it! Can't you just go?!--"

Roman's grip around my hands tightened further, almost to the point of making me wince. "Tell me," His pupils widened at an eerie rate, transfixed on mine. It felt as though his words were echoing through my head, and it didn't take long before I suddenly felt as though my inner monologue froze over.

And before I knew it, my mouth had a mind of its own; "They broke my phone,"

"Who?"

I really, really tried to fight it. Getting Roman involved in this drama was certainly not ideal, and I did my best to push away the urge to tell him; why was it so strong, all of a sudden? It almost felt as though he was controlling my mind, but it was ridiculous to even think so-- that was obviously impossible. Right? 

I eventually got around to answering; "Jasmine," 

"... Who?" Roman was beginning to sound like a really confused owl.

"Jasmine," I echoed. "Letha's friend. She brought a few girls over to my table and smashed my phone. Called me a whore."

Roman was silent for a few seconds, his face going unnaturally blank. "These cuts are from your phone?"

"Yeah,"

"And she did it because you're with me?"

"... Yeah," Did he just insinuate that we were together? I held my breath, unsure why my mouth wasn't adhering to my orders-- I so desperately wanted to point it out, but I physically couldn't. What on earth was happening?

Roman hummed, his grip around my hands loosening. "What else did she say?"

I blinked several times in an attempt to get out of the trance-like state I found myself in, but nothing seemed to be working as long as Roman's gaze was locked on me. "She said she's gonna make my life a living hell," As I sniffled, I realized tears were pooling in my eyes. I squeezed them shut, shaking my head to try to snap out of it once more. "I- It's fine, though." It dawned on me that the trick was to not look at him-- I finally started feeling like myself again. "I just need to talk to Letha and check out the options for a truce, or whatever."

As I dared to open my eyes, I watched his blank face. Something about the lack of reaction was unsettling, on the border of uncomfortable, and it almost made me want to squirm. It was in this silence that a thick, red drop of blood suddenly made its way down Roman's nose, and he didn't react when it met his lips. It was almost as though he had frozen to his place on my roof, and I couldn't remember the last time he had blinked.

My eyes widened, concern filling my body. "You're bleeding," I breathed, trying to get my hands out of his. "Let me get something for you, Roman, it's gonna run down to your shirt!--"

Abruptly, he got up with a quickness I hadn't seen in him before, still not saying a word. Suddenly, I couldn't help but notice it-- the hickey on the right side of his throat. One he wasn't even trying to cover up. Despite how much Roman kept denying wanting to be with me, here he was, getting up to do God knows what whilst quite literally baring my mark on his skin.

I watched him, my brows drawing together in complete and utter confusion. "Roman?" Calling out his name didn't seem to do anything; he let the stream of blood run down his chin, now dripping down onto his shirt. I could only look up at him, unsure why he was acting like this.

Finally, Roman spoke; "Living hell, you say?" His voice was low, threatening-- it was suddenly clear to me that he had gotten a very dark idea.

These sorts of proclamations coming from a guy who had an affinity for pricking girls with needles genuinely concerned me. I got up from the window sill, ready to climb out onto the roof to join him. "Come on, Roman, let's just talk!--"

It was as though he was on auto-control, rushing to the edge of the roof before turning around to climb down. My heart beat hard in my chest as I nearly lunged out of my window, hoping to reach him in time. "Hey, where are you going?!" 

I didn't make it-- Roman had already managed to land on the grass beneath him, his long limbs an apparent advantage, and he was now storming down my lawn towards his car. 

"Roman!" I yelled, crouching down on the edge of my roof; this was definitely not looking good. My mind kept racing as I gave up trying to catch up to him, burying my face in my hands. 

I was screwed. I was so screwed. 

(a/n: check out part 1, part 2, and part 3 if you haven't!! thank you for reading, more to come!!<33)

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* The mating habits of Yandere! Animal-Human Monsters

Yandere!Monster men who sometimes forget that their poor darling is a human and misinterprets their actions when it comes to mating. Short drabbles about yanderes trying to seduce their darlings, but the list gets progressively darker the further down you read.

*Warning* dub-con, non-con, yandere possessiveness, dead dove

Yandere!Crow Harpy who was a little disappointed when you refused to move out of your house. You didn't understand why the feathered man seemed so infatuated with you, but after a long while of him begging you to move in with him you agreed, only on the condition that he moved into your home. It wasn't a traditional harpy relationship, but he was ecstatic regardless, deciding that if he couldn't build a nest with you he could at least win your favor as a perfect mate by decorating it. It got on your nerves sometimes, coming home from work to find shiny bits of trash and feathers tucked into every nook and cranny of your home. Eventually the two of you created a list of acceptable "treasure" to bring home, and what you considered to be actual garbage. He spent weeks "decorating" your already furnished house, before one day pulling you into the living room where he had piled every blanket and pillow you owned into a makeshift nest on the floor. His smile was insecure, desperate for your approval as he wrapped you into his large wings, holding you tightly against his warm body before sinking down into the mass of fluffy objects. You could hear his heart hammering against his chest erratically as he gently began placing kisses against your collar.

"I wanted to help build a home with you, so it wasn't yours or mine, but ours. I pray that my attempts to prove I'll keep you and our future children comfortable impressed you..."

Yandere!Merman who couldn't help but feel awestruck by your beauty, often going on long rants about how much you inspire him. It was a chance encounter while you were studying abroad, and you grew emotionally attached to the beautiful man who sang you words of praise. Although he whined whenever you had to leave the beach, the bags under his eyes became deeper as the weeks went on, chronic exhaustion taking it's toll on the merman. Whenever you tried to convince him that his sleep was important, he would only give a dopey smile, responding cryptically about how his secret project was just as important as spending time with you, and that he would have time to sleep once it was all over. One day when you arrived on the beach he was already there, shaking with excitement and impatiently trying to drag you into the ocean before you could get on your snorkeling gear. Deep where the sun barely touched, a huge intricate mural was sculpted into the ocean floor. As your eyes widened in an attempt to take in just how massive the artwork was, following each perfectly symmetrical swirl, two strong arms snaked around your waist with a tired, yet content, sigh. He blew words into your ear that you were somehow able to understand despite the water, as he sunk with you into the middle of the circular masterpiece.

"You take my breath away every time we meet, and I wanted to do the same for you. Please say that, if you could, you would lie here in my arms forever.."

Yandere!Puppy-Hybrid who was always just a ball of energy, a hyperactive sweet heart who couldn't sit still when he was awake. Most of your days together, it was easy to forget that he could even have urges, with how innocent your relationship was, kisses and cuddles but nothing more. As a species who had mating cycles, although he would never tell you out loud, he was always waiting for you to go into heat. But it was taking so long! He did such a good job being a patient boy for you, you didn't even know why he was being so whiny lately, attributing his neediness to his attention seeking personality. But eventually, he took your phone to do some research. At first he was shocked, humans didn't have mating cycles?? How did you know when it was time to make a baby? Then he came across an amazing discovery. Ovulation. It took a couple of months, holding your belly to his face and breathing deeply for a couple of minutes each day, but he finally learned the subtle changes in your scent throughout your cycle. You had no idea what was going on, thinking he was just being extra goofy lately, until he refused to let go one day, tightening his grasp as his breathing turned into heavy pants, grinding your leg in between his.

"Ah.. you can't hide it from me.. I've been waiting for this for so long... Please don't say no..."

Yandere!Humanoid Spider who always did his best to never frighten you. Even when you first met, it was with him holding his hands up and pleading for you not to run away from him in a soothing voice. Despite the lower half of the creature you met in the forest being a giant spider, the top half was such a kind and handsome man that you quickly began to trust him, soon considering him to be a good friend. He was so thoughtful, always raising his hands as a show of surrender, whether he was approaching you from afar and didn't want to startle you or if you were jokingly fighting over something silly. Even amongst humans, he was the one you trusted the most. If you had known anything about spiders though, you would have been more on guard with his overt displays of feebleness, especially after he began telling you how beautiful you were. You didn't even fight back at first when he suddenly grabbed you from, until he bit into your neck. The kind man, no, the monster you thought you knew, wasted no time sliding your pants down as he still held your backside to his chest, chuckling into your shoulder.

"Ah, my stupid little human~ Were you just pretending to be that naive because you wanted me to take you? ❤️"

Yandere!Naga who couldn't feel love in the same way that humans did. As a researcher working towards her doctorate specializing in Naga people and their many sub species, you were overjoyed to meet a small tribe of Naga men who were willing to allow you to enter their home and record their daily lives. There were so many types of Nagas loosely related to snake species still alive today, and they each had their own cultures, languages, and biology. Based on the coloration you couldn't tell what type these men were, but despite not being fluent in their language they were very kind to you. They seemed to have been in a period of mourning before you arrived, and lavished all their attention on you, babbling on in one sided conversations you could only understand a few words of here and there. One phrase they all stated was flattering only for the first few times they repeated it, but quickly became unnerving as they became more comfortable caressing your face and running their fingers through your hair. And when they pulled you into the center of a giant nest, taking turns thrusting their long tongues down your throat and running their hands over your body, trapping you in a pile of cold men staring deep into your soul with hungry eyes, you learned the species they were closest to.

"We need you... We need you..."

Yandere!Humanoid Scorpion who rescued you after a tourist attraction went arry, promising to protect you until you could be rescued. A strong, bulky man who enjoyed holding you (almost too tightly) in his arms whenever his peers came near. Everything was honestly lovely until in the black of night you were awoken by a strange chorus of sounds echoing outside the burrow the hybrids allowed you to sleep in. A blue light illuminated the large home, and as it noticed you finally woke, approached, revealing himself to be the scorpion man who rescued you, glowing with bioluminescence. Before you could ask what was happening, fear struck you like a bolt of lightening seeing a large, inhuman cock emerging from just below his human half. He lunged forward, and you threw up your hands in self defence. Your hands intertwined with his, fighting against him with all of your strength, but the harder you fought, the more excited he grew. You pushed and pulled, but he didn't loosen his hold on you. Eventually it seemed he had enough playing, and threw you effortlessly onto the bed. Tears streamed down your face at your helplessness, but this only widened his smile as he peeled the shirt off your sweaty body.

"There is no need to fear, my mate. As you can see, no one can match my strength. You and our brood shall be safe under my protection.."

Yandere!Humanoid Waterbug disgusted you, from the twitch of his antenna to the flirtatiousness of his voice. The moment you met him on the water of your lake house, there was no escape. Every time you left or returned back home he was effortlessly skating across the waters surface towards you, begging you to come closer. Although you did your best to ignore him, his loud cries for attention eventually wore you down. Maybe if you entertained him just this once he would leave you alone? You approached him calmly, but as soon as you were within reach he grasped your hands tightly, pulling you partially into the water. He spoke sickly sweet words of affection, chilling you more painfully than the cold morning lake water. You tried to turn him down politely, gently pulling at his grip. He pulled you into the water further, swiftly pushing the two of you away from the shore in one kick of his legs, his unamused gaze no longer holding the playful, flirty gleam it had before. One set of hands held yours tightly, while another pair grabbed your head shoving it without warning under the water. You struggled against his grasp, rapidly losing oxygen as you panicked, black spots filling your vision. But before you lost consciousnesses, he brought you back up, still staring into your eyes with cold fury as your lungs felt like they caught fire. He confessed his love again, but when you began sobbing he thrust you face forward into the water again with a painful smack, holding you down beneath him until stopped struggling. In the air once more, snot flowed and mixed freely with your tears as he aggressively smashed his face into yours, fishing out your tongue and biting it harshly.

"There's only one correct answer to my question, (Reader).. Be mine, or die. If I can't have you, then no one can."

Yandere!Marsupial Hybrid you never saw coming. Lost in the Australian outback, you cursed yourself and your impossibly terrible luck. Hybrids and monsters freely roaming the world were terrifying enough, but being in the land where even the greenery was planted by Satan himself? Your phone had lost it's signal about two hours ago, and your jeep died shortly after that. Trudging along by foot, you continuously felt eyes following your every step, and the fear that a giant spider or monster snake was stalking you made you cry for hours as you walked under the merciless sun. On top of the heat and new blisters forming on your soles, you had to use a restroom as well. Quickly surveying the tall bushes to make sure you weren't about to go next to one of Satan's previously mentioned bushes, you pulled down your shorts in discomfort. The feeling of eyes on you hadn't left since your vehicle randomly gave out despite being double checked before you left the city, but your bladder couldn't care at that moment. A rustle nearby ended your attempt to go before it started, pulling up your shorts so fast it hurt. A hybrid with round ears and a lung brown tail with white spots charged into you, knocking you down. His face was red and slick with tears and sweat, his eyes wide and frantic as he latched his sharp teeth into your neck with excitement. Everything was so fast, with his alternating between feverish rambling and biting into whatever part of your flesh he could reach as he tore off your clothes with a desperation you couldn't comprehend. Tears blended with your own as he kissed, licked and bit every piece of you as he fought your legs open, ignoring your screams of pain.

"You accepted me didn't you?! You knew I chose you! Ah, it hurts! Why'd you put your clothes back o-ah! I need you, I need you now!"

[kissforyouu]

pent up stress

pairing : husband!jungkook x wife!reader

genre : smut , fluff

warnings : there is a babyy , oc is a stressed mom , jk relieving all her stress , nicknames used : sweetheart/honey/my love , sexual : clit play , fingering , cum eating , making out , oral sex (f recieving) , lactation kink , p in v , mate press (?)

unedited.

"shh, shh, it's okay, baby."

you gently pat your baby's back, switching from patting it and rubbing it up and down every second.

"my baby, hmm, it's fine. don't cry, don't cry, my love." you rock your baby up and down while spinning around the room, walking back and forth, doing all sorts of things to calm the baby down.

"sweet baby." leaning your head down to press a soothing kiss onto your baby's forehead, then another, another, and another and so on. there's a small smile forming on your face once your baby calms down a little.

"come on, shhh. goodnight, my love..." you carry your baby to his nursery, tip toeing, not wanna risk anything as you slowly bend your body forward to place the sleeping baby on the crib. and just as you do that—

"waaaahhhhhhhh! "

ah. yeah. right.

quickly retrieving back to your old position, your hand immediately flies to lay on top of your baby's back meanwhile your other arm is wrapped around your baby's body.

letting out a sigh mixed with exhaustion, you press your baby's head onto your chest, letting him listen to your heartbeat. please go to sleep. earlier you read an article saying that letting the baby listen to the mother's heartbeat makes them sleep better. please work.

don't get me wrong. your son is the best the best thing that has ever happened to you. he's your everything and you've always wanted to be a mom. but sometimes, it's just so hard. but you're aware that this is not something you can avoid and is prone to happen. and seeing your son's cute bunny smile at the end of the day was worth all the struggles. no matter how exhausting it can get sometimes.

it was around 3am now, after all.

your back was pressed against the headboard as you cuddled your baby into your embrace. half lidded, you watch your turn his face from side to side on your chest, trying to find a comfortable position and a few small squeaks leaving him here and there.

there's a small smile on your face while you rub your baby's back soothingly. meanwhile also trying not to fall asleep on spot.

but just as you were about to go against your own words and fall asleep, the door creeps open, making you jolt back up to look for who it is, only to see your husband's head peaking from behind the door.

he walks in, taking big but silent steps towards you.

jungkook smiles, "how's my babyboy doing?"

"he's a very bad baby tonight." you huff with a small grin, playfully, "but i managed to put him to sleep."

jungkook giggles, leaning forward to press a kiss onto your sleeping baby's cheek. your son squeaks, shifting his face from one side to another while comfortably laying his head on your chest.

"gimme the baby, honey. i'll put him to in the cot. you should get ready for bed." he pats your hair, twirling one of your strands.

"hm, okay." you get up, gently placing the baby in your husband's arms. but then—

the baby suddenly yelps, fists clutching onto your shirt tightly. you're startled, but you handle the situation just fine.

"ah, ah, ah, my baby." you're groaning, you're tired. but it's okay. you look at jungkook, the dark circles around your eyes very clear, but it's okay.

"oh, come on, baby. come to papa, it's okay." jungkook hums a small tone, one that your son for sure likes, as you slowly sneak the baby into his arm.

without even noticing the change of positions, your baby just snuggles into the familiar warmth of your husband's chest.

sigh. you sigh, sitting back on the bed.

"get ready for bed, my love."

you nod, just getting up from the bed and walking back to your shared bedroom.

by the time jungkook manages to fully calm your baby down and place him in his crib and come back, he finds you still on the bed blankly staring at the wall.

he's confused. shouldn't you be in bed already?

"honey, what's this? not sleepy?" there's concern written all over his face.

"are you okay?"

the moment he asks that, he notices your face turning completely sour with a big pout forming on your face. oh no, he knows that face very well.

"hey, hey, what's wrong?" jungkook quickly rushes to sit next to you, his hand now on your back, rubbing up and down and flattening any wrinkles on your shirt.

without any warning, you pull your husband closer by his arm and hugs him tight, face buried deep in his neck.

"i feel so exhausted." a small mumble.

your husband sighs, immediately noticing the problem.

"i know, sweetheart, i know. it's okay. just calm down for now, hm?" he leans his back against the headboard, pulling you closer to his body as you curled up into a small ball and let yourself be comforted by your husband's soothing heartbeat.

"we had this talk before, remember? days like this are prone to happen. and we have to get through it somehow." he whispers into your ear, pressing kissing in between his sentences as well. you hum, lightly nodding your head, agreeing.

"it's for our little baby. you're the best mommy i know and ever will know. just imagine us telling sannie about how much of a hussle he was when he's older." he chuckles, placing kisses on the crown of your head.

you smile into his chest, nodding.

"it's for our sannie." you mumble and jungkook hums, gently massaging your head. jungkook brushes his fingers through your hair, gently, soothingly, almost making you fall asleep. he had his head leaned downwards, forehead pressed against the crown of your head as he planted small pecks all over your forehead and eyelids.

"jungkook." you pull on his shirt, slowly making your way out of his embrace.

he just hums, caressing your cheek so softly.

stop. you love him so much.

you touch his hand on your cheek, leaning forward to connect your lips with him. your husband immediately smiles into the kiss, his fingers holding your face so gently as your lips moved against eachother perfectly.

his tongue licks your lower lip, slowly sneaking its way in your mouth. the tip of your tongues meet eachother, smoothly gliding against eachother as you to make out. like, really hard.

there's soft little noises coming out of the smacks of your lips, both of you eating eachothers faces out. not being able to hold back, you whimper, your fingers gripping onto jungkook's biceps.

you makeout for a few more seconds then breaking out for air.

jungkook couldn't help but let out a small squeaky laugh.

and oh, that laugh. it brought you back to the days where you both were just two highschoolers starting to like eachother. made you feel like a little girl having her first crush.

thinking about that had you forming the biggest cheekiest smile on your lips.

jungkook was a little confused at your change of expressions, but he just smiles it off. you sit up on his lap again, pulling your husband in for another kiss.

so you kiss.

but then, jungkook manages to get you to lay down on your bed on your back and him slowly getting on top of you. almost sneakily.

breaking from your kiss, you groan, letting your head fall onto the bed. jungkook snickers, almost evil, body laying softly on top of yours as he pulls you into another kiss. now, your legs are crushing his thighs, caging him between them while both your hands gripped onto his shoulders.

while you both are eating out eachother's faces, jungkook's hand slithers under your baggy sweatshirt, massaging your soft stomach.

"hm..." he hums, squeezing your tummy fat.

you both open your eyes at the same time, jungkook breaking down to a small giggle again. the tip of your tongues brush past eachother over and over again. fuck, you're getting so hot. you bet your face is as red as a tomato right now.

your husband brings up his other hand to hold you face by your cheek, then his tongue leaves you for a brief moment—and instead, he spits a globe of spit down to your mouth.

"swallow."

gladly, you swallow it down, opening your mouth again with your tongue out to show that you've done as he said.

jungkook huffs, smirking—fuck, he's so breathtakingly attractive.

"my amazing little wife. best woman in the world. best mama." his words flutter your stomach entirely. you swear you could see the butterflies flying out of your stomach.

you just smile in return, and that's more than enough for him.

"are you feeling any better, my love?" jungkook caresses your cheek as if you were the most fragile being on earth, touching you with so much gentleness.

you just hum with a small nod. but your hand touches jungkook's one that was on your cheek, then you put his fingers in your mouth.

jungkook watches you with amusement as you wet his fingers with your saliva. once you felt satisfied enough, you pull his fingers out. lifting up the hem of your sweatshirt using your other hand, you glide jungkook's fingers down your body, leaving a small trail of saliva on your stomach.

once you've reached your pelvis, you lift up little shorts, pushing his hand inside.

"touch me, jungkook." you moan out.

and i swear to god, jungkook swore he's never ever seen his wife hotter than this moment. he felt all the blood rush down to his pants, his dick hardening each second.

"shit—" his voice was so breathy, "you're so hot. baby, i'm gonna lose my mind." he takes a deep breath before diving straight down to your neck. he begins to kiss and suck on your neck, nibbling here and there, biting too. meanwhile, jungkook also makes sure to add a little bit of pressure to your clit. not doing anything but just pressing onto it subtly. tease.

you moan as your husband continues to suck and bite all over your neck, leaving little hickeys all over.

"i need you so bad, kook. please take care of me..." the last bit of words leave you in a whisper. jungkook almost feels dizzy from your words, god he loved it so much.

"i'm so tired, hm. need you to make me cum to relax me." you're caressing the top of his cheek with the pad of your thumb.

jungkook loved seeing you needy.

"alright, honey." he places one final kiss on your forehead.

jungkook spreads your legs further apart, fingers skimming over your soft cotton shorts over and over. and once he sees the little wet spot in between your thighs, it almost makes him drip the drool out of his mouth.

"ahh, pretty." his thumb rubs over the wet spot, caressing it and pressing onto your clothed clit. through your shorts, jungkook pinches your clit, making you let out a small squeal.

"just get to it, hmph." you groan. jungkook's smirk just widens more. your husband nods, taking off your shorts.

"ah, fuck, prettiest pussy ever, baby." the tip of his fingers dips in between your mushy folds, collecting some of your arousal. he brings it to your clit to get it wet, then gently rubbing circles on top. you whimper, nodding.

jungkook lowers his body down, hooking his arm behind your thigh, hoisting it up a bit. his body lays fully flat on the bed, between your thighs with his face pressing kisses all over your thighs. he also bites your flesh, not too hard but not too soft— well, hard enough to form little marks for sure. he bites a spot on your thigh inches away from your pussy, then flicking his tongue on that area, gently sucking it afterwards.

like this, your husband makes sure to leave small hickeys all over your thighs and take his time. while you were left squirming and the puddle in between your thighs just growing and growing.

i thought you said no teasing?

jungkook swipes his thumb over one of your hickeys, caressing it and then leaning forward to press little kisses over it.

"love these fuckin' thighs."

and without a warning when your eyes were closed, your husband decides to dive into the messy in between your folds with a long lick.

"ah!" surprised, you hook your fingers into jungkook's hair. he hums, licking stripes of your pussy. kitten licking your hole, his fingers tease your clit. he circles your clit slowly while his lips latch onto one of your folds, sucking on it.

jungkook pulls away with a groan, making you let out a long relieved sigh.

"more."

"hm."

he gets right back to licking your pussy, making long strokes from your hole to your clit. then he spits on your clit first, tongue immediately swiping over your clit repeatedly. it was the perfect stimulation to beg you for more. his eyes were closed, he seems to be in the moment enjoying your pussy as if it was his last meal. while making out with your clit, he decides to have some mercy on your hole.

your husband plunging two of his fingers in your pussy was the cherry on top for you.

"ah— ah, ah! mmh...!" your grip on his hair tighten. back arched, face thrown back, whimpering and moaning so fucking loud.

"shhh, you might wake sannie up, my love."

you nod vigoursly, pushing your husband's face deeper into your pussy and grinding. jungkook was going at an animalistic pace, his face completely smothered all over your pussy. your arousal mixed with his drool was all over his face. his jaw was already beginning to ache, but he didn't care. all he cared about was whether his pretty wife was satisfied or not.

his fingers thrust in and out of your hole sloppily. the scene was so messy. he loved how squishy your pussy felt. and that just made him think more about how you'd feel wrapped around him again.

one last tug and bite on your clit, you let out one last long moan, pulling onto your husband's hair roots as your cum gushed down your cunt.

"shit, oh fuck" your husband whines at the sight of your swollen cunt.

he caresses up and down your cunt with the back of his middle and ring finger. you hiss at the cold feeling of his wedding ring pressing onto your clit as if that whole finger wasn't just inside you just a minutes ago. jungkook realises you liked it. so he smirks, slapping your swollen cunt with the back of his fingers repeatedly, especially making sure his ring is slapped against your clit over and over again.

"kook!—whine haaaaah! haah, hh!"

he slaps your thigh harshly to get you to stop squirming around. once his wish is fullfilled, he forces open your thighs, diving right back into your slit again.

"jungkook!" you were already overstimulated enough.

his eyes were closed once again and nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. face buried deep in your pussy again, he carefully lapped at your sweet juices away with long satisfied hums against your cunt.

"hm, hmm, hm— so good." he reassures.

and a last little kiss was on top of your swollen clit. you let out a small mewl followed by relieved sigh.

"how are you feeling, baby?"

"good, so good. thank you." you pant.

"anything for my heart." he coos, kissing your temple.

aw. he said "my heart". your heart melted.

jungkook pokes your cheek with a smug grin as he lifted his body up and got off of the bed. huh.

"where are you going?"

"to clean you up?" he raises his eyebrow at you, slightly confused.

"what?"

"what do you mean what?"

"well— uh, i thought you were gonna..." you pout.

"hm?"

"kook, please fuck me. i am so horny and i need you so bad." there we go. jungkook's jaw was on the floor for the second time today. i can't lie, he was loving this new side of you. bold and straightforward. you're more vocal about your sexual needs now. you never were before.

he opens his mouth to say something, but shrugs while biting his lips, hurriedly getting on top of you again.

"shiiiiiiit, let me take care of you, mama."

your husband's fingers hook onto the hem of your shirt, pulling it upwards to take it off of you. he gawks at the sight of your tits, squished in your bralette. he hurries to take it off, throwing it away not caring where it may land.

his big hands impatiently grab your tits which were filled and heavy with milk. he looked completely hypnotised. squeezing and massaging your tits, his eyes glued to the milk that's leaking out of your nipples. swiping his thumb over your nipples over and over, jungkook looks over to you, asking for permission.

you nod.

immediately taking in one of your nipples in his mouth, your husband begins to suck relentlessly.

"oh, jungkook...!" your hand was on the back on your husband's head, instinctively massaging his scalp while he dived into your breasts.

he spits on your nipple then swirls his tongue on the saliva, dragging it all over your chest. the artwork being created on your chest was very messy, like always. he playfully bites your soft flesh and pulls it as if he could just bite a chunk off of you.

"tastes surprisingly good."

"surprisingly good?" you crack up a laugh, tilting your head to the side as you ruffled his hair.

"yeah."

he squeezes your breast again, fingers travelling from there down to your pussy again. with a smug face, jungkook parts your legs again, getting in between. he playfully flicts your clit just to earn an annoyed groan from you. apologising with a little kiss on your clit, your husband begins to rub himself through his boxers.

pulling his cock out, he slaps it on your clit a few times, making sure your clit was covered in his precum. then, he glides it down to your hole teasingly slow. spitting on his cock to use it as lubricant, he finally glides it in your drenched cunt.

"ohhh"

"ohhh"

both you and jungkook moan at the same time, loving—obsessively loving the feeling you just got. shit, that felt good. like so so so good. especially after waiting for his cock to slide in you.

"so warm, mama. so perfect for me. you're all mine." he just cups your face, staring at you so lovingly. jungkook holds up your legs by your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest. his cock goes in and out of you steadily. short timed pants from the both of you take over the room, mixing well together and creating a small harmony even.

jungkook couldn't get over how pretty your pussy looked. so pretty and perfect for him. he was aware that you did have a bit of insecurities building up after your pregnancy. but being the sweet loving husband he is, he had a talk with you and reassured you that he still saw you the same, and of course he will for the rest of his life. you were everything to him. so perfect.

he spits a ball of saliva onto your clit, watching it dribble down to mix with his thrusts. he swipes his thumb over the small patch of hair on top of your cunt, groaning.

watching jungkook act completely mesmerised with your cunt only made you wetter and his thrusts grow even rougher.

his thighs snap into your ass like a drum, the sound of skin slapping and moans and whines filling the room. mostly yours. but you knew better to keep it on the low.

"shit, oh, mama!"

jungkook spreads your legs by the knees now, both your knees ending up on the sides of your head. his body leaned down to yours, breath fanning against your lips as he quite literally manhandled the fuck out of you.

the sex wasn't rough, though. it's like he didn't want to make it rough. but it felt so good. but he made sure to increase his pace at odd times just to rile you up.

"mm, haaaaaa!"

he knew you needed to come from clit stimulation though. so to make it easier, your husband moves your left leg to his right hand, his hand holding both your legs now as he fucked into you.

"oh my god, jungkook!"

immediately squeezing your eyes shut at the sudden stimulation on your clit, your breath hitches and toes curl. your husband rubs your clit in the form of an eight, pinching it then and there too.

"hmmmm, you're gonna cum?"

you nod repeatedly, eyes squeezed shut and feeling completely fucked. no pun intended.

"yeah? cum. cum so i can fuck it deeper into you." he rubs your clit faster, increasing his pace. you whine out loud as your sweet cum comes down, making your body shake under your husband's grasp. jungkook groans once your juices coat his dick as he fucks you through your orgasm.

"oh my god, i love you...so much!" you choke out, nails digging into your bedroom. shit, that was just what jungkook needed to release.

"fucking hell, say that again." he throws his head back, bringing both your legs up in the air again and pressed against eachother as he fucked into you.

"i love you!"

"ahh, shit, shit..." he groans, thrusts getting sloppier as he cums down your cunt. he collapses right next to you, hugging your thighs close by your knees. while both you and jungkook regain consciousness while laying on the bed for a few seconds, you also make sure to admire his afterglow and also to tuck a few of his hair strands away.

jungkook gets up fast though, but never misses to kiss your hand. he quickly grabs a tissue and cleans in between your legs.

you yawn, snuggling into the sheets.

"you just wanna go to sleep?"

you nod. but you get up, making a quick trip to the bathroom to pee. by the time you're back, the sheets are changed are new, neatly tucked too. your heart immediately warms as you smile widely, wrapping your arms around your husband and kissing his cheek.

"i love youuu!"

"i love you more, baby!" he pecks your pouty lips. he tells you to dress up while he goes to check on your baby. once he comes back, you're happily tucked in your bed with a big fat smile on your face.

"someone's feeling better, huh?" he scrunches his nose up.

"uhhuh!" you nod also, patting the vacant spot next to you on the bed. jungkook happily lays there, inviting you to lay in his arms.

"i love you, mama. god, i'm so crazy for you. thank you for all you're doing, honey."

[luvwestwood]

"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)

"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."

3,012 words.

warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,

notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^

credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.

russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️

Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.

He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.

Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.

Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.

The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.

Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.

Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.

…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.

"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.

Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."

Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"

Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"

He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”

“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.

As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.

Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.

The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....

Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.

Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.

He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.

Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.

Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"

His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.

You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.

Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.

You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.

Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.

The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]

He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.

Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.

Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."

His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.

Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]

Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.

Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.

His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.

"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.

Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"

His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"

Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.

Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.

"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"

"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.

He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.

"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.

Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.

You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.

The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."

Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.

"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.

"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.

His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.

Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.

"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.

Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.

Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.

“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.

Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”

This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.

Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.

Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[bbokicidal]

"Are you serious...?" - Angst! [Hyung Line SKZ]

Notes : These are all obviously fictional situations, the red flags are just based off of habits we know they have (like Chan's need to be needed, Changbin being blunt/honest.) This post isn't me saying I think they have these red flags, it's just a fun angsty prompt I wrote down. If you don't like it, scroll and don't read.

If people like this - a maknae line will be written! If not, prolly not lol.

Warnings : Angst with no comfort, red flag behavior - some of these aren't even that bad or could be misunderstandings but still.

Maknae Line | "Good Luck, Babe." Part Two!! Here!

BangChan - Brushing off/Having the wrong priorities

One time, it was him forgetting a dinner date - the next, he was staying at the studio late when he was supposed to be meeting your parents for the first time. You let it slide because ultimately you understood that his job took up a lot of his time, and honestly? It wasn't easy to forget about but he had a tendency to take care of you and make up with it by quick gestures before he left the apartment or when he came home; Soft back hugs, quick cuddles before he fell asleep, or kisses in passing. Lately, however, he's been slacking. He'd begun to shrug you off any time you'd touched his arm or hand, nudging you away while he typed on his laptop. He'd tip his head away from yours while laying in bed together or he'd sit further away on the dressing room sofa.

The tipping point was when he was getting ready to go on stage and was standing in wait for the others to be ready. There was still five minutes and Chris looked a bit jittery, so you figured a quick hug or kiss would help ease his nerves. However as soon as you approach and reach to touch his arms, he steps back and keeps his eyes trained on his phone. You reach again, hesitant, and his brow furrows as he maneuvers to the side to get away. "Don't touch me."

Your lips pop apart in surprise. "...Are you serious?"

He looks over, eyes briefly wandering your face before he reaches to fix his in-ear and walks away to the door, disappearing around the corner and leaving you standing there alone. Even the soft touch of Felix's hand on your back as he passed by was warmer than anything you'd felt from Chris in the last two months.

Lee Know - Keeping secrets / Prioritizing Privacy within himself

Minho had a very, very bad habit of not telling you things. In this instance; That he was leaving for tour in two days.

A world. fucking. tour. The only reason you didn't know about it was because you hadn't been out of your home in the last few weeks unless it was for a quick coffee at the cafe or to grab lunch with a friend. Work was heavy during this time of year and as someone who worked remotely, you often spent grueling hours in your office on your computer - hunched, tired, head pounding and back sore.

So you would think that when you entered your bedroom one evening after just finishing up sorting files in your office, you'd be happy to see your boyfriend already there. And you were for a moment, until you realized he was packing three rather large suitcases full of his clothes and necessities. He looks to you, then away, wordless.

"Are.. you.. moving out, or something?" You breathe in a laugh, eyes wandering over Minho as he folds a t-shirt and tucks it into his suitcase with the others.

"No. I have to bring all of my luggage to the company building tomorrow so they can have it at the airport when we leave for Australia."

"Australia?" Your brows quirk. "When -- Why --"

"Tour." He stops his movements to stare over at you, a hint of irritation evident on his face. "We're going on tour for six months."

"Six--" You breathe out, eyes widening. "Six months. And you didn't think to tell me?"

Minho moves to drop a pair of pants in his suitcase. "I would've told you if you could handle the news, maybe. Every time I mention leaving all you do is whine and pout about how long I'll be gone."

"I get upset, yes, what girlfriend wouldn't be upset that her boyfriend is leaving for a week or two? But six months, Minho, I --"

"Don't start." He all but huffs out the words, shutting you up immediately. Minho turns away to continue folding items of clothing on the shared bed and as you watch him do so, you stand and have to wonder if you want to be there when he returns home from the tour.

Changbin - Not knowing the difference between being rude and being blunt

He didn't seem to understand when to stop. Changbin had a tendency to be honest, sometimes to a fault, though you never seemed to complain about it because most of the time it wasn't a big deal. He called Jeongin out for saying the wrong word when singing, or blatantly threw people under the bus when a joke was taken too far.

And he was like that with you, too. He would be honest with you when you asked his opinion of something - was the shirt unflattering? Were you being too loud? Was your makeup bad today?

He'd lay it on you point blank. Yes, the shirt fit a little weird. Yes, you were being a bit loud in his ear. And yes, your eyeliner was going in two different directions. Criticism that was asked for. But when it wasn't asked for? Oh.

"What is your problem?" He bites as he follows you down the hallway to your bedroom. "We have ten minutes, just wear the damn dress and put your shoes on. We have to go."

Your huffs mix with stifled sobs as you rip open your dresser drawer and dig for other options, hands shaking and eyes teary. "You just told me the dress looks ugly, Changbin. I'm not wearing it out if you don't like it--!"

"What does it matter if i don't like it? It's your body, wear what you want!"

"You're my boyfriend!" You retaliate, frustrated. "I want to look nice for you and -- for the group, and I want you to like what I wear, obviously!"

Changbin lets his eyes roll before he turns out of the bedroom doorway and down the hall. You pause to watch him go, listening as he bites about how he doesn't have time for this and needs to leave for the group dinner. You stand in front of your dresser in shock as the door to your apartment slams shut, leaving you in silence and all on your own.

Hyunjin - Being too cocky / Making you feel inferior

It hadn't happened before now, and you weren't sure why it happened at all. But it did.

You'd approached to gently hold onto your boyfriend's arm as he talked to an older idol - someone he looked up to and had just done a collaboration video with. You'd only come up to tell him that the food was delivered and he could have dinner before his stage, but the look he gave you when he finally turned his head was .... wild.

No words were needed. The way his eyes directed to the side you stood at before falling as if looking you over and then immediately looking away; The way the smirk on his lips only widened and his tongue pushed at his canines as he redirected his gaze elsewhere. The soft scoff that left his lips. The way his arm slipped away from your hold in clear nuance that he didn't want you touching him.

It made you feel like less. Like he was pretending he didn't know you - Like he wanted you to bug off and disappear from his line of sight.

Hyunjin had a tendency to put on a confident, bold persona when he was on stage and at first you thought maybe that was why he was acting this way. It was lingering in his body from the dance video he'd just filmed with the other idol and eventually, it would wear off.

But as he turned from you and lifted a hand to fix his hair, he talks to the other as if you're not even there at all. And you have to wonder if it's a persona for the video, or a side of him you had just experienced for the first time. Now you could only hope it wouldn't happen again.

[zreamy]

i'll love you forever

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary: you were sunghoon's first everything; first friend, first love, and first heartbreak. after years of quietly crushing on you, he was finally ready to confess. so ready to confess, that he told his parents the two of you were already dating! it was an easy enough lie to keep up and he kept it up for months, what could possibly go wrong? he thought. little did he know, you would have a falling out and stop talking for months.. and then, you'd both get invited to spend a week at home with his parents, who still believe you're his girlfriend.

genre: smut, fluff, angst, college au, childhood best friends to lovers, fake dating

warnings: minors dni, fake dating is pretty mild (sorry), she kinda doesn’t rate him at the start, these two kind of exist in a vacuum a little bit idk i had a self-enforced word count to stick to and broke it.. (im within the 10% allowance !), sunghoon in a vest, sunghoon arms, sunghoon

word count: 21,858

playlist: click here.. (for my non-spotify babes, the main song is light by wave to earth (which for some reason i put last.. whatever))

author's note: for silly @asahicore. happy birthday pooks i hope it's amazing and that u enjoy reading this when u have the time !!! LOL (lots of love) also im never writing without telling you things again this was so absurd.

to everyone else.. ok happy reading also emma did not beta read this so im sure it's missing its charm .. anyway it's for emma not you 😭 anyway i hope u enjoy regardless and lmk ur thoughts! omg this is the first fic im nervous about posting.......... please enjoy or else.

In the three years since Park Sunghoon moved away for university, he’d been doing a pretty good job of going home to see his parents. They’d welcome their baby back to the nest with open arms and wide grins. With a rehearsed level of indifference, his younger sister, Yeji, would say, “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.” when she saw him at the dinner table. Sunghoon pretended to only be marginally hurt by this. 

In the last three months, he hasn’t so much as sent a text to his parents. 

Or to you. 

Ignoring texts from his mother is devastating. Between classes, he watches as, “Hi, sweetie, I love you 😍,” turns into, “Missing you, honey, know you must be busy but spare some time for your old mummy, no?” which turns into, “Getting really worried now, are you doing okay? Has something happened with YN? Talk to me, I love you, my baby boy!” 

Ignoring texts from you is easy because texts from you never come. 

Sitting at the end of his bed, Sunghoon rereads a text his mother sent a few minutes ago: Please talk to me, son. Really worried and YN isn’t answering calls either. What’s going on with you two?

When he leaves his room, he finds Jake lying on the couch, and with his keys in hand, Sunghoon says, “I’m going home.” 

And the drive is great! At least, he tells his mum it is. In truth, the drive home without you was nearly impossible. Your ever-expanding home time playlist buzzed through the speakers in his car, but without you there to screech along to the songs, it wasn’t the same. He felt your absence the most when he stopped to get petrol and you weren’t there behind him struggling to carry enough snacks to feed a small family without offering to pay. 

The look of worry on his mum’s face stirs a pit in his stomach. “Why are you so quiet these days? God, you look so tired,” she says, frowning. “Is it school? Or something with YN? It’s not like her not to text back.” Her brows crease as she whispers the word unless. She pulls him into a hug, her chin resting perfectly on his shoulder, and her comforting hand strokes the hair on the back of his head. “Breakups are never easy, honey. I’m so sorry, I know how much you love her.” 

Breakups are never easy. The sentence hangs heavy over his head. 

Whether she knows it or not, she’s handed him a get-out-of-jail-free card, the opportunity to set things straight, to end this mess once and for all. No further questions, and most importantly, no more lies. 

For the first time since he left your flat three months ago, Sunghoon lets himself cry. He’d imagined this moment countless times, his first cry since you ended things. In his mind, it was always intense. Today, as it happens, only a few salty tears leak from his eyes, spilling onto the cuff of his sleeve, darkening the blue cotton in tiny indigo splotches. 

“We didn’t break up,” he says in a small voice—for some reason. “I’m just having a hard time.” Neither statement is technically untrue, but the words taste rotten in his mouth.

The tightening grip of his mum’s arms around his body is what brings on the harsh, shoulder-racking sobs he’d been anticipating. For a while, they stand like this, Sunghoon weeping into his mum’s cardigan until she sends him upstairs to lie down, promising a cup of tea that never comes. 

His childhood bedroom is chilly, so he changes into clothes he left behind and climbs into bed, pulling his duvet up to his chin. He turns his head to look at the walls and the room around him, everything is exactly where he left it in the summer. It should be comforting, but it’s weird to be home without you. 

There are photos of you and him everywhere, growing up and around each other through different stages of life. The two of you together during the summer your family moved in next door, you wore glasses back then and were the first friend he’d made in his life. Sunbathing and sharing earphones at the beach, listening to music together on your iPod classic. Sunghoon in thick glasses with a stiff smile and your arm around him on the first day of high school. Wide grins at the start of this summer, the last time things were okay between you. 

Overwhelmed, he stares up at the ceiling, only realising he’s crying when a hot tear slips from his eyes to tickle his ear. Because Sunghoon likes to upset himself, he screws his eyes shut and thinks about the night before you stopped talking. 

Though he didn’t know it at the time, you’d left Yeonjun’s place to sit with him in a tiny restaurant on campus, the one you’d only visit to toast to each other’s heartbreaks. It had become a ritual — ever since your first year boyfriend dumped you after two weeks — to cry as much as you wanted and drink as much soju as your bodies could handle before stumbling back to your apartments. 

Having spent years suffering from an unrequited crush on his best friend, Sunghoon was always the one to comfort you. But that night was different; you were there to comfort him. It was easy enough to play the part of ‘boy whose crush likes someone else’ because he spent your entire friendship in that role. He’d had no problem accepting his fate, but his composure started to slip when you met Yeonjun. It was the first time you’d dated someone who Sunghoon had reason to be jealous of. In every way, Yeonjun was better than him—taller, funnier, hotter. Sunghoon knew he didn’t stand a chance. He took it personally, you liking Yeonjun instead of him, and let his jealousy consume him from the inside out. 

This jealousy led him to start telling you about Minjeong—lying to you about Minjeong, and his feelings for her. She was a girl from a college out of town that he saw on his Instagram Explore page. He followed her by accident, and by some stroke of luck, she followed back. Sunghoon didn’t really have feelings for her — he didn’t even know her — but she was a girl that you didn’t know, so you wouldn’t be able to meddle. 

It only took a few weeks for Sunghoon to become so upset about your relationship that he couldn’t hide his emotions anymore. So, in a fit of tears, he told you over the phone that things ended badly with Minjeong, and he was in urgent need of a soju ceremony. 

But the night was missing its usual comforts.

It was strange to be the one crying, to see you looking put together and ordering the food. To see you pouring the drinks and raising your glass to propose a toast to ‘Hoonie’s first heartbreak’. You were driving that night, so you only had a tiny sip of soju and let him drink as much as he needed, the way he always did for you, at the same table, in the same restaurant for years. 

Hours later, in your car, you entertained his drunken rambles, though he remembers how your lips were set into a frown that he wanted to kiss away while you gripped the steering wheel like you thought it would run from you. Sunghoon was more drunk than he’d been in a while, drunk enough to let you sling his arm over your shoulders and keep him upright until you reached his flat. 

The voices coming from Yeji’s room disrupt the memory. He’s thankful.

“Your brother’s going through something, so be nice to him this weekend.” His mother’s voice is her version of hushed—a loud whisper. 

Yeji’s response is harder to make out, but he doesn’t miss the way their mum says, “I mean it, missy.” 

A dramatic sigh rumbles through Yeji as she barges into his room without knocking. Sunghoon sits up, feeling an ache in his back and crossing his legs. 

“Mum told me to lay off you today, which is fine, but before I do, I need to tell you something.” 

Yeji pushes the door shut behind her, and the open window makes it slam, both of them flinching from the sudden noise. She pulls her hair out of a silk scrunchie and throws herself on the floor. A pang of irritation forms in his chest, knowing that he could immediately find the empty hanger in his wardrobe where the shirt she’s wearing used to live. 

“I hate you and your perfect golden boy image, Hoon. Would it kill you to fail a class for once? I don’t know how I’m supposed to carry on your legacy.” She’s looking up at him, her chin in her hands and irritation written in the crease between her thick brows. 

It’s impossible to know if it’s because of Yeji’s complete lack of boundaries or the fact that her ‘perfect, golden boy’ big brother is on track to fail three out of three classes and get cut from the hockey team, but Sunghoon immediately bursts into tears. 

“Oh, uh.. I’m sorry?” Yeji offers. “I was kidding if that helps.” 

“I’m alright, it’s okay.” The tears don’t stop stinging his eyes. “Why do you want me to change everything about myself?” 

With a frown, Yeji pours out her frustration and mild resentment. She doesn’t understand how Sunghoon effortlessly conquers every aspect of life while she struggles. Neither do their parents, who had been baffled by her plummeting grades since she moved to boarding school, especially when Sunghoon’s academic performance has only soared since he left for university. The weight of this perceived injustice pulls Sunghoon’s shoulders down with guilt as she talks about the expectations he has inadvertently set for her. 

“But other than that, I’m good.” She shrugs, sitting with her legs out, and leaning back on her palms. “How’s YN?” she asks. It’s clear from the brightness in her voice that she thinks she’s helping. 

Sunghoon cries again. 

Back on campus, he’s trying to scrape together what’s left of his academic career with the help of two of the smartest guys he knows, and their friend Jay. Though the word ‘friend’ feels a little strong at the moment given the way Jay’s goading him. 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, sitting back in his seat. “There’s nothing you can do that I can’t,” he says, meaning every word. 

Jay scoffs, shrugging and raising his brow in a way that, over the years, Sunghoon knows to interpret as his ‘about to say something ridiculous’ look. “Pretty sure I could call YN right now, and she’d answer.” 

There’s a pit in Sunghoon’s stomach as Heeseung turns his head in the other direction like he’s been slapped, trembling with stifled laughter. At least Jake doesn’t hide his amusement, throwing his head back in a fit of giggles that draw nasty looks from the other students in the library. Sunghoon doesn’t waste his energy trying to argue because Jay’s right.

Now composed, Heeseung turns back to the table, flipping through some of Sunghoon’s course materials to find whatever his class was doing in class that week. The English Literature class he’s taking — The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway — is the same class he had to send a million emails over the summer to get enrolled in, but it’s the same one Heeseung aced two years ago. Lucky for him none of the boys seem to be in the mood to make fun of him for trying so hard to have a class in common with you, and then practically failing out of it before the term had started properly.

“This class is, like, beyond easy, dude.” Heeseung pauses to sniffle and twist the stud in his ear. “Everyone in my class aced it. How are you doing so badly already?” 

“I only took it because YN thought it’d be fun if we had a class together, but.. I kind of haven’t been going since we stopped talking.” Sunghoon shrugs, pretending to be unaffected. 

As if the mere mention of your name has some sort of summoning power, like saying Biggie Smalls in the mirror three times, you appear in his eye line, rounding the corner with a furious stride. Your demeanour crumbles when Jay waves at you, and you grin, waving back, but as soon as you look Sunghoon in the eye again, the rage comes back, and you smack a hand on the table when you reach it, leaning over to him. 

“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.

He thinks you’re asking, but it’s hard to tell with the way you set your jaw afterwards, and the way the warmth of your signature vanilla scent hits him hard. Dazed, Sunghoon lifts a hand, pointing at himself. “Me?” 

“Does anyone else at the table answer to Sunghoon?” 

“Okay,” he says, somewhat pathetically, nudging Jay for laughing at him. 

As slowly as possible, Sunghoon pushes his chair from the table and stands up, following you to the corner of the references section where only anthropology students in scratchy thrift store knits, and Jay, come to check out encyclopaedias by volume. You look good, save for the rage written all over your face—which, honestly, Sunghoon thinks he likes.

Sunghoon isn’t sure what to expect, so he says, “Hey.” He’s being cautious, waiting a moment to gauge your reaction. “What’s gooooood?” His cheeks burn as soon as he closes his mouth around the vowel, but you laugh. You laugh, and it’s beautiful and happy, and you’re laughing because of him—or at him, but he’s glad either way. 

Annoyance quickly clears all traces of amusement on your face. “Were you ever going to tell me we’re spending next week at Mum and Dad’s?” you ask. 

Sunghoon gasps dramatically, clicking his fingers. “I knew there was something I’ve been meaning to do.” 

His attempt at lightening the mood falls flat, and you only nudge his shoulder gently, sighing. “Can you be serious? For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me?” You’re frowning, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at your feet. “It’s not fair, Sunghoon. For you to keep saying things—making plans involving me and then acting like I’m the bad guy when I turn you down.” 

“I don’t think you’re the bad guy at all,” Sunghoon admits. “If anyone is in the wrong, it’s me, I guess.”

You scoff, looking at him like you hate him. “You guess? Are you serious?” You look furious, but you sound hurt and Sunghoon hates it. Hates himself. “I can’t have this conversation with you right now. Tell mum I’m sick, and it’s contagious.” You roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Sunghoon alone with his thoughts and judgemental stares from students in crochet scarves so long they graze the floor. 

He sighs, slumping against the wall. How does he keep getting it wrong with you? 

Back at the table, Sunghoon manages to act like he’s not falling apart and makes some serious headway on his missing assignments with Heeseung’s help before they call it a day as the sun starts to set. 

When he gets home, he lies down on his bedroom floor, spending hours poring over the conversation you had. Over the minute changes in your facial expression, the tone of your voice, and the endless list of things he should have done, rather than watch you walk away. 

The moment feels familiar, both identical to and worlds apart from what happened after you left three months ago. When he managed to scrape the last shreds of his dignity from the kitchen table, he dragged his feet to his room and lay down like he is now, face to the rug. That day, he left his door open and lay so still that Jake thought he was dead. Sunghoon remembers wishing he had been. 

For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me? The words run on a loop in his mind, over and over, until he can’t remember the order of the sentence or where you put emphasis. They’re cutting all the same. 

Sunghoon sighs into the itchy fibres of his black rug before rolling onto his back. In the diminishing purple light of the setting sun. he looks at the walls of his room. At the Fleetwood Mac poster, he stole from Jay when they moved out of their first year dorm, that curls away from the wall towards the ceiling—a diagonal strip of shiny tape being the only indication of the otherwise invisible tear through the face of Stevie Nicks. 

He’s glad when his phone rings, cutting through the quiet, though the sight of your name and the anatomical heart emoji next to it only dampens his spirit. Reluctantly, Sunghoon answers the phone, holding it to his ear. 

“I just got off the phone with Dad..” You trail off. Tangible silence follows, so thick it weighs on his chest. “I’ll go home with you.” 

“You will?” 

“Yes. Goodbye.” 

Sunghoon reaches your flat at five in the evening. You don’t smile when you open the door for him, nor do you invite him in. Instead, you dump your bag at your feet and he cringes, looking from the floor to you. You’re aggressively beautiful and cosy-looking as you pull a jacket over the sweater you wore that night. Sunghoon’s heart aches in his chest and he wonders if you even realise. Suddenly, the memory of the last thing you said the morning after hits him like a truck: Then let’s not be friends at all. 

A familiar weight lands on his shoulder—your hand. Concern lines your eyes as you ask if he’s okay. 

With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods. 

In the discomfort of his car, the two of you sit in silence while he starts the drive home. 

“How’s Yeonjun,” he asks, eyes flicking towards you but regretting it immediately when he sees how you clench your jaw. 

“No,” you say simply, shaking your head. “You don’t get to ask me about him.” 

These are the only words you exchange until Sunghoon stops for petrol. He has enough fuel for the rest of the journey, but he feels like dying and thinks the fresh air might quell his thoughts of running his car off the road. Like always, the two of you get out and head into the kiosk, where he follows you wordlessly through the aisles, watching you debate on snack choices before settling on the same things you always get. Sunghoon pays for your snacks and you roll your eyes but don’t protest, mumbling thanks as you take them into your arms, leading the way back outside.

He knows he needs to tell you before you reach the house, but he’s not entirely sure how to say it—so he just does. “My, uh.. my parents think we’re dating.”

You stop so suddenly in front of him that he almost bumps into you. Stepping around you, Sunghoon keeps walking. 

Over the top of his car, he watches your face cycle through all five stages of grief until anger comes back around in the loop as you scoff. “Why do they think that?” Your face is devoid of expression now, the blankness over your features dragging a sharp chill over his spine. 

He stares blankly at you, processing. “Because I told them we’re dating,” he mumbles. 

“Why did you.. do that?” You tilt your head, eyes pressing shut in a long blink. “What are you even talking about? Why did you.. What?” 

A thin layer of sweat coats his palms despite the cold. Why did he do that? “We can stage a breakup during the trip or say we broke up right now,” Sunghoon offers. “Just one night, YN, please.” 

The wind whistles by, ruffling your hair and jacket that you hug tightly to your chest. Behind you, Sunghoon takes note of the group of girls standing by the pumps, all five of them jerking their heads abruptly when they notice him watching, suddenly finding interest in the scattered litter and flickering halogen bulbs in the steel canopy over their heads. 

You’re staring when he looks back at you, nostrils twitching with a sniffle before you sigh. “Or we could say that you’re a liar and end things there,” you say. “Or better yet, you go down there on your own and tell them the truth.”

Sunghoon’s gaze drops, his thoughts racing in his mind. He knows you’re right. At some point, his parents will have to find out, and it’d be better for them to find out now. Sunghoon sighs, nodding. “Alright,” he concedes. “I’ll take you back.”

An angry laugh comes out of you as you shake your head. “No need, I’ll walk.” 

The station you’re at is neatly nestled in the middle of nowhere, on a road so narrow he’s not even sure it has a pavement. You’re halfway through the three-hour drive, so there’s no telling how long the walk would be, never mind the fact that the sun is already setting and it’s deep enough into October for the wind to sting. 

“From here?” he asks, incredulous. 

“Yes, open the boot so I can get my bag.” 

Sunghoon can only bring himself to say your name, a desperate whisper. 

“Open the boot.”

He repeats your name as if it’ll make a difference, he’s pleading with you, begging—though he doesn’t know for what. 

You go to the back of his car where Sunghoon joins you, a pit in his stomach when you step away. With misty eyes, you look up at him and his heart breaks. “Please.”

Sunghoon knows you well enough to know that you’re not actually going to attempt the walk home but also knows that you won’t back down if he keeps challenging you. He nods, opening the boot for you and getting into the driver’s seat—your move. 

You stand there, unmoving, and long enough passes that he thinks you’ll actually leave. The boot closes softly and you join him in the passenger seat. You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

For the rest of the journey, you sit in silence as Sunghoon briefs you on the relationship, fighting a smile as he thinks about being your boyfriend—even if only for a night. You scoff when he ‘reminds’ you that you’ve been together for four months now and the only reason you haven’t been able to come home recently is that your schedules don’t match up very well anymore—which couldn’t be further from the truth as, before term started, you went out to celebrate the fact that your class schedules couldn’t be more suited for seeing each other. 

Finally, at Sunghoon’s childhood home, the two of you smile and laugh for his parents before going to bed. Your relationship has only made his mother more averse to the idea of you sharing a room under her roof than she had been when you were younger. He’s relieved about this, and in the solitude of his bedroom, he lies on the duvet of his twin bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about the last few hours. 

With his parents, you’d sat up in the living room watching TV. They sat on the couch together, his mum nestled in his dad’s side, while you two sat on the couch opposite, mirroring their position. If your complete stiffness was anything to go by, you were less than comfortable with his arm around you and Sunghoon felt terrible for begging you to go along with this. It was after midnight when you all went upstairs and you let him kiss your forehead before all but slamming the door to the guest room in his face. His heart twirled and his mum beamed at him before saying goodnight again. 

Now, at 3 a.m. he can’t sleep. Flinching at the knock on his door, he furrows his brows and goes to open it. It’s you. Standing there with your hair scraped away from your face in one of his t-shirts. Your eyes are red, brimmed with tears as you step into his room and sit on his bed. 

He closes the door softly, heart aching at the sight of you so upset, and when he sits next to you, his heart tears apart because you move over, putting a distance between you. It falls out of his chest onto the floor when he realises you’re not wearing your necklace. 

Sunghoon suspected you might have stopped wearing it, it only made sense that if you didn’t want him, you wouldn’t want the necklace he bought for you either, but at least earlier, your sweatshirt sat so high he couldn’t see if you had it on or not. 

It was a gift for your sixteenth birthday, after your first heartbreak. He was so upset and angry that you let some loser hurt you that way, upset and angry that someone could be loved by you and fuck it up. Sunghoon was inspired by Jay, who’d gotten a pretty necklace for his girlfriend, and talked about her cute reaction for weeks, how happy she was to have a piece of him with her all the time. It was a locket, with a picture of Jay in one side and a picture of her in the other so the pictures would kiss when she wore it. 

While at the jewellers with Jake, Sunghoon thought something like that might be a bit much for the two of you and eventually picked out an equally pretty piece with his first initial on it. He wrote a corny note to put in the box, something about how ‘boys come and go but Sunghoon is forever’ and gave it to you with trembling hands a few nights later—it was the first time he ever made you cry. Immediately, he thought he’d done something wrong and was ready to snatch the box and run back to the jewellers (even though he trashed the receipt). You hugged him and told him you loved him. Sunghoon’s been riding that high ever since. 

Until tonight at least. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers. 

“I’ll do it, Hoon.” Your eyes lift from the floor to meet his gaze. “For as long as you need me to, I’ll pretend.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Sunghoon feels lighter, an unbearable weight slipping from his shoulders. You haven’t called him ‘Hoon’ in ages, and he can’t tell if you’ve said it out of vulnerability, or even noticed that you’ve said it at all, but it warms his heart nonetheless. However, he’s not fully at ease, still curious about your sudden change of heart and why you’re crying. 

“What happened?”

You pull him into a hug, and his eyes bulge out of his head. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, the words muffled by the skin at the base of his neck. 

For as long as he’s known you, you’ve smelled like vanilla, a sweet warmth that grounds him. Yet it’s only after these months apart that he’s able to put a name to the sensation: home. The realisation of how much he’s missed this feeling, missed you, floods him with a rush of emotion so overwhelming he can’t find the words to press the issue. A moment passes before he remembers to hug you back, his arms finally wrapping around you, pulling you close, and you sink into his hold. Months ago, he would have kissed the top of your head and mumbled reassurance into your hair, but tonight, Sunghoon settles for stroking the back of your head and hopes it’s enough. 

“You can talk to me, you know? You can always talk to me.”

A heavy silence follows, sharp as a dagger—scraping his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge and lodging itself between his shoulder blades. Sunghoon’s breath hitches in his throat when you cling onto him even tighter, shifting so close you’ve had to settle in his lap. His heart races in his chest, pounding a rhythm so loud it fills the room. 

Finally, you speak, assuring him that you know and that you’re okay. At this, Sunghoon holds you as tight as he can, and neither of you speaks for the rest of the night. You fall asleep like this, in his arms, so deeply that you don’t even stir when he lies down. 

Rubbing your back, he watches the clock on his nightstand, the piercing green LED digits cycling through two whole hours right before his stinging eyes until you wake up. Sunghoon presses his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep when you kiss his cheek and leave his room. 

For the entire morning, you stay in your room, and although Sunghoon is concerned, he decides not to bother you. In the afternoon, he sits at the dining table with his mum, listening as she talks about work. When she asks him, he gets up to make a cup of tea for her. It’s at that moment when you finally come downstairs, looking so effortlessly pretty. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and you’re bundled up in one of his old sweatshirts. There’s a bright grin on your face that leaves his heart thudding. 

“Baby!” you squeal when you see him, charging towards him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. “Good morning.” Your words are muffled against the back of his t-shirt, and the four-letter word, and the sugar coating it, make his cheeks burn. 

“It’s great to see you too, YN,” his mum says with a smile. “My night was amazing; I slept very well and had no dreams.” 

You let go of Sunghoon and walk over to the table, kissing his mum on the cheek and wishing her a good morning as well. “Sorry, mum, how are you?” 

His mother doesn’t seem to have the heart to correct you either, allowing your 3 p.m. ‘good morning’ to go unnoticed. 

Sunghoon carefully fills both mugs to the brim and, with extra caution, carries them to the table. He places a steaming cup of peppermint tea in front of his mum and a milky coffee in front of you. A warm smile spreads across your face as you mouth a ‘thank you’, and his knees turn to jelly. 

The next day, after eating an early dinner with his parents at the table, the four of you go out on a walk along the bike path you used to take for school. His parents have gone ahead, not intentionally, but because Sunghoon can’t stop you from dragging your feet. 

As with most things in the town where you grew up, nothing about the trail has changed. The leaves are yellowing in standard form for the season, and crunching under his feet with each step he takes. The only foreign experience is the silence that you’re determined to uphold. Everything Sunghoon says to you is met with either a hum, a nod, or no acknowledgement at all. At this point, he feels like he could drop dead at your side and the most you’d do is step over his body like a fallen branch. 

After letting you go ahead, the weathered slats of the wooden footbridge sag in the middle under his tread. It’s been like this for as long as he can remember and he wonders how nothing has been done about it. The stream rushes under it, loud and unruly, the smell of wet grass both comforting and suffocating as you look over the railing. It’s like something from a postcard, the low-hanging branches sweeping back and forth under the breeze, the grass lush and green around the path, murky water thrashing against the mud and rocks underneath with you in the middle of the frame, peering over the edge.

You keep walking when Sunghoon approaches, leaving him alone on the creaky bridge with nothing but the ache in his chest. He looks up, staring at the grey clouds in the sky through the gaps in the leaves, and sighs. 

Eventually, he catches up with you, grabbing your hand and locking his fingers with yours when his parents slow down. You stiffen, looking up at him with cut eyes and a creased brow. “What are you doing?”

Sunghoon matches your clipped tone. “Holding my girlfriend’s hand.” 

“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”

“You think my parents aren’t going to wonder why we’re lagging behind?” 

A scoff—your fingers remain defiantly stiff. “Do you think your parents are going to care whether or not we’re holding hands?” 

“My mum might after the show you put on yesterday afternoon, baby.” Bitterness covers the word like a blanket, a stark departure from how you said it. 

A long sigh rumbles its way out of you before you fix your lips into a strained grin. “Sorry, sweetheart, this is my first time pretending to be in love.” 

As your words hang in the air, Sunghoon’s emotions brew like a storm within him. Frustration gnaws at his patience. All hopes for a smooth week are dashed, though determination simmers in his chest with a strong resolve to make this work, to fix your relationship. It doesn’t stop the sharp pang of hurt piercing his stomach—he knows you don’t feel the same way, he knows you’re faking, but the word ‘pretending’ hits him like a truck anyway. 

“We held hands all the time when we were friends,” he points out.

Your smile drops immediately, hurt flashing behind your eyes. “Yeah, and now we’re not.” 

If there was a competition for who could hurt Sunghoon’s feelings the most, you’d be a shoo-in for first place. With distinction. 

“Exactly!” he says, feeling the sting of his own words. “Because now we’re dating.”

At the sight of his mum turning around, you switch up in an instant. Lock your fingers with his, wrapping an arm around his bicep, leaning into him, giggling. It’s forced but his parents are far enough away that all that matters is the curve of your lips.

“You two okay back there?” she asks. 

“Perfect! I feel like a kid again!” you call back, beaming up at Sunghoon in a way that makes his stomach flutter even though it doesn’t meet your eyes. 

The two of you don’t talk at all when you get home, with you hugging his parents goodnight and running up the stairs. 

“She’s not feeling too well,” he explains, nodding when his dad tells him to make you some tea. 

His parents spend the whole day at work, and you spend the whole day following him around like a shadow until the evening when they return. He doesn’t pretend not to like it.

Sunghoon helps you make dinner, turning leftover rice into fried rice with the help of some eggs and vegetables. It’s nice moving around the kitchen with you, watching you scramble eggs in his t-shirt and bump his hip with a playful frown when he eats some of the peppers you’re chopping. 

His parents watch from the table, cooing over the two of you and he does his best to fight the blush forming on his cheeks and neck. Embarrassed, he hugs you from behind, hiding his face in your neck—the scent of your coconut conditioner mixing with your vanilla perfume doesn’t do anything to stop the flush. 

Over a bottle of wine, the four of you eat together at the table, swapping stories about your days. Sunghoon tries to hide his surprise as you lie about the time you spent at the play park by your primary school, competing for height on the swings and spinning on the roundabout until you couldn’t stand up. You grin at him, and it meets your eyes as you hold his hand under the table, and kiss his cheek.

After eating, his parents head upstairs, leaving to clean up together. You hum a song he’s never heard as you load the dishwasher, carefully placing the plates and cutlery in the rack, shaking your head when he hands you the glasses you’d used. 

“Leave ours,” you say. “If you want.” 

Sunghoon nods, putting them back on the table, where you sit in the seat across from the one he was sitting in. He sits too, staying quiet rather than saying the wrong thing. You don’t speak either. It’s reminiscent of the past—the hours you’d spend in the same room, only speaking to share a funny post you’d come across or to ask if you were hungry. 

His eyes track your movements—reaching for the half-empty bottle on the table to pour yourself another glass, filling it to the brim. Before putting it down, you offer him some, filling his glass too when he nods. The three glasses of wine he’s already had must be the reason he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand, run his thumb over the soft skin on the back of it. 

Sunghoon doesn’t know why you’ve been so nice to him all day or why it makes his chest hurt. 

“You know you don’t have to be nice to me when we’re alone, right?” The words come out before he can stop them.

Over the top of your glass, your brows knit together. A sound of confusion, a low hum, comes from your throat as you try to finish your sip. “What?” you ask finally. 

“I only asked you to do this because of my parents, you know? You don’t have to sit or talk with me when they’re not around.” 

Sunghoon’s known you long enough to recognise the look that flashes across your face. The way your eyes narrow and your brows tug together, the little pout that sets on your lips before you speak; you’re hurt.

“Why can’t I just be nice to you because it’s the right thing to do?” 

Because it hurts, is what he wants to say. He wants to cry, to beg you to forget everything he said that day. “Because I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have.” Is what he settles for. 

Your face softens. “I don’t feel uncomfortable around you, Hoon. We were best friends for ages, I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable.” You pause to take a gulp of wine. “Why can’t I just want to be nice to you?” 

Sunghoon has to chew on his cheek to distract himself from how much your word choice stings. The implications of were and all of your past tense. “I’m sorry,” he says. 

“What for?” 

“Everything.” 

There’s a sadness in the way you run your fingers on the base of your glass. The way you chew on your lip, how your hair falls when you tilt your head and how it moves when you shake it. “It’s not your fault,” you say. “I don’t know anyone who would choose to have unrequited feelings for their best friend.” 

Wow, he thinks. You’re on a roll. Sunghoon wonders if you’re meticulously choosing your phrasing to upset him. Wonders why you feel the need to remind him that his feelings aren’t reciprocated as if he didn’t live through and spend hours reliving the day he confessed. 

“But I didn’t have to tell you about it. It was unfair of me to spring that on you when I knew about Yeonjun.” 

“Did you.. did you think I was going to leave him for you?” 

“Maybe?” Sunghoon chews on his lip—he has no idea what he thought would happen. “I think I thought I loved you enough for both of us, that you might play the part for fun or out of curiosity, and.. I don’t know, just learn to love me.”

“Hoon,” you whisper, frowning. “How could you even think about settling for something like that?” 

Sunghoon shrugs. “It’s not settling if it’s you.” 

Silence takes a seat at the table after he speaks, interrupted only by the ticking clock on the wall—a glittery mess of scrapbooking paper and washi tape layered over each other that Yeji had decorated at summer camp years ago. You’re picking at your fingernails, letting flecks of black polish fall to the table, stark against the varnished oak. 

“I know it’s not my place to ask,” Sunghoon starts after a while, hesitant and only continuing when you nod. “But what did Yeonjun say when you told him? About.. everything?” 

You take a long sip from your glass and sit quietly for so long that he thinks you’re not going to answer him—he doesn’t blame you. 

“I didn’t.” 

He waits for you to elaborate. You don’t. 

Sunghoon nods slowly, deciding not to ask any follow-up questions. Instead, he takes another drink, scrunching his nose at the bitter taste. “He didn’t ask why we stopped hanging out?” he blurts out.

“I told him we fell out but I didn’t say why.” You shrug, but your posture is stiff. 

“Where did you tell him you were going to be this week?” He knows it’s not his business at all, that he’s pushing your boundaries, but he can’t help his curiosity.

“Nowhere.” 

“You told him you were staying on campus?” 

“I didn’t tell him anything.” Your gaze shifts, avoiding his as you toy with the stem of your glass. You drum your nails against it, letting the dull clink ring out. 

“So you just left?” 

“Does it make a difference to you?” 

Sunghoon nods.

For a while, you tug at the drawstrings on your hoodie, pursing your lips to the side, considering this. “Yeonjun and I aren’t together anymore.” Your admission is so shocking that Sunghoon’s jaw drops. He tries to cover his surprise by coughing, his tongue sticking out like a small child. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think it was because of you.” 

Sunghoon’s thoughts move at lightspeed, too fast for him to catch onto any of them and process this information. His emotions compete with each other—disbelief, guilt, and a painful glimmer of hope he hadn’t dared to acknowledge until now all at the forefront. 

“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?” 

You scoff—an incredulous sound that doesn’t match the sad look on your face. “I don’t know, Sunghoon. Do you think my boyfriend used me to make his ex jealous because of you?”

He’s not sure what he expected you to say, but this is.. Complete disbelief eclipses him as his heart sinks in his chest, shock, and guilt bubbling in his stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” he says after too long. “That I wasn’t there. That I haven’t been there.” 

“You didn’t know,” you say, gaze softening as you look up at him. 

“But I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it.” 

You shake your head. “I made me feel like I couldn’t talk to you about it. All you did was change the friendship, I’m the one who ended it.”

“I still should’ve been there.” 

“You’re here now, right?” 

Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.” 

Only one thing comes to mind when you repeat the word ‘always’ before taking a sip from your glass, downing its contents. Sunghoon gets up and crosses the room with wobbly steps to open the fridge, where he pulls out as many bottles of soju as he can hold in his hands and puts them down on the table. He goes back to collect some glasses from the cabinet, puts some of the leftover fried rice from dinner into the microwave, and brings it all over when it’s done, with bowls and utensils. You watch him with a fond smile as he opens a bottle and he hopes you think the flush on his cheeks is from all the drinking you’ve been doing. 

“Is it bad that I’ve missed doing this?” You’re grinning now.

Sunghoon shakes his head, raising his glass. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak.” 

You grin, clinking the rim of your glass against his. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak,” you repeat. 

Both of you down the glasses, and Sunghoon refills them, pouring the soju with an oddly steady hand. As you eat spoonfuls of rice and sip your drinks, silence settles over the room. The soft glow of the kitchen lights forms a warm ambience, a cosy familiarity that brings up simple memories—doing homework together at the table while gossiping about your classmates, the first New Year after you were both eighteen and had your first drink with his parents. 

For at least an hour, the only sounds are the occasional clinks of forks against bowls, glasses hitting the table, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the steady tick of Yeji’s clock. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, and he can’t help but notice the slight change in your expression when they do. 

You clear your throat, running a hand through your hair. “This is my sixteenth, actually.” 

“What?” 

You take a small sip of soju, staring down at the table. “My fifteenth heartbreak was losing you. Yeonjun is my sixteenth.”

In the two days since your soju ceremony, Sunghoon finds himself sinking into the role of your boyfriend like a hot bath. But there’s no use pretending it doesn’t hurt. Pretending it doesn’t hurt when you kiss his cheek before bed, or when you reach out to push the hair out of his face or snuggle into his side on the couch; because it does hurt—a lot. It hurts to think that in three days when you put your bags in the boot of his car, you’ll sit in silence all the way home. When he drops you off at your flat, you’ll close the door in his face and stop talking to him again. These realisations are harder to confront when he’s alone in his room, like now. 

About an hour ago, you asked if you could borrow his car, saying there was something you needed to do on your own. It seemed important, so he handed over his keys with no question. Sighing, Sunghoon gets up from his bed and heads to the shower, where he jerks off to clear his mind. On his way back to his room, he notices the light leaking from the open kitchen door that illuminates the landing. 

He hears the lock on the front door clicking, and stands at the top of the stairs, dripping water onto the carpet while listening attentively. His ears perk up when he hears a gasp—his mother. 

“What’s this for?” she asks. 

“I just..” You trail off. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to thank you both for always looking after me.” You pause, and Sunghoon holds his breath, waiting. Your voice trembles as you continue. “It’s been hard since my parents went back home, and I guess it was still hard when they were here, but you both supported me. I don’t think I could’ve managed without you guys. I want to make you guys proud, you know? And I’m trying, really, so this is me saying thank you. I’m sorry it took me so long.” 

He grips the railing by the landing, digging his nails into the wood until they start hurting—an ache in his fingertips that makes him wince. 

An odd feeling settles in his stomach, a bittersweetness tinged in his fondness for you, and the gentle shock of realising how much his parents have done for you. Growing up, you became an honorary member of Sunghoon’s family. His parents showered you with gifts during holidays and birthdays, which you often celebrated with them rather than your own family. 

The memory of your parents’ sudden decision to move across the country still lingers, and Sunghoon vividly recalls the tearful conversation he overheard at the top of the stairs. Your parents understood the enormity of their request but had earnestly asked if Sunghoon’s parents could continue looking after you. 

His chest tightens when you start crying. 

“You don’t have to thank us for anything, sweetie. Just you being here and taking care of our boy is more than enough thanks. You never forget our birthdays, and you always come and visit when you can. You’re doing a great job, and you should give yourself some credit,” his dad says, a little choked up. “We’ve always been proud of you.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes sting with tears and his skin gets dry in the spots where the water from the shower is evaporating. He presses his fingers to his closed eyes, forcing a few tears to fall and walks the rest of the way to his room with his eyes shut. He can’t hear anything through his closed bedroom door, which he decides is a good thing as he coats himself in moisturiser and swipes deodorant under his arms with intention to spend the whole night alone. Once he’s dressed, he gets into bed and pretends not to be bothered by the way his wet hair dampens his pillow. Under the duvet, he tosses and turns before sighing and heading to Yeji’s room.

In her absence, the room’s subtle transformation is stark. The sage green-painted walls, once a backdrop to the A3 faces of Wave to Earth and Beabadoobee, now bear the faint imprints of those missing posters. Tiny, shadowy rectangles are the only remnants of the 6x4-sized pictures of her and her friends, of her and Sunghoon, that she took away with her to school.

Her hairdryer is still on her desk where she’d left it for him to use and he sits in her stiff wooden chair, plugging it in. The airflow starts immediately, hot and loud, humming throughout the space as he runs his fingers through his wet hair, feeling cosy under the heat. His shampoo is fresh and soapy scented under his nose, and his reflection watches him in Yeji’s mirror, eyes red and concerned while his hair blows around his head. Sunghoon closes his eyes and finishes his hair, sighing as he lets his worries slip under the whir of the fan. 

Finished, he shuts off the dryer and opens his eyes, flinching at your reflection in the doorway behind him with a soft smile on your face. “Mum and Dad are going to open a bottle of wine if you want to join,” you say, meeting his eyes in the mirror. 

Sunghoon can’t find it in himself to speak, only nodding in response. You smile wider but don’t move. He unplugs the hairdryer and leaves it on the desk where he found it before crossing the room. Without giving himself a chance to think about it, he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, smiling into your hair when you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him closer. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, mumbling sleepily that you’re never going to drink again, and Sunghoon leans over the sink brushing his teeth, he’s glad you have the decency to cover your mouth as you speak. 

“Brush your teeth and go back to sleep then,” he mumbles around his toothbrush. 

You don’t respond. 

Sunghoon sighs through his nose, spitting foamy toothpaste into the sink, leaving bubbly, blue splatters on the porcelain. “And quit staring at me, I can feel your beady little eyes on the back of my neck and it’s freaking me out.” 

“But you’re so pretty,” you coo. 

There’s a flutter in his stomach and he rinses off the sink and his mouth, buying himself some time. With a hand on the Listerine, he lifts his gaze to meet yours in the mirror and stops short. You’re still staring at him, features soft and glowing under the afternoon light. You look like an angel; a gentle smile spreading over your lips, and a sleepy glint sparkling in your eyes, wide and gorgeous as you watch him. Sunghoon gulps, mumbling his thanks and looking back at himself. He hopes you can’t see the flush on his cheeks. 

“Go back to sleep,” he says. 

“Will you come and lie down with me if I do?” Your voice is a sleepy drawl, coming out in a slow, high-pitched slur, and your eyes are closing on themselves. 

Lying down doesn’t sound like a terrible idea, especially not if it’s with you, so he nods. “If you brush your teeth, then yeah, baby, I’ll lie down with you.” 

You chuckle softly at Sunghoon’s agreement, the sound carrying a mix of exhaustion and genuine amusement, showing no repulsion to him calling you the B-word. He didn’t mean to, it’s been a confusing few days. You nod, saluting to him and getting up to join him by the sink, using your hip to bump him out of the way, but he feels like he’s glued to the spot. 

“Move, baby,” you mumble sleepily, reaching for your toothbrush. “We can cuddle in my bed,” you suggest, to which Sunghoon only nods, taking your words as a cue to unstick his feet from the floor and go to your room, playing the word ‘baby’ on a loop in his head. 

He stands in the doorway staring at your bed, the duvet is all crumpled in the middle, and the pillows are in an L shape at the top corner. He sighs, he can’t go on like this, can’t stand around hoping even a tiny part of you called him ‘baby’ and it meant something for you as it did for him. It’s not fair for him to project his feelings on you like this, but he can’t help it. You’re already pretending for his parents, so would it be so bad to pretend for his sake as well? Even if only until the day after tomorrow when you leave? 

The sound of the bathroom door shutting behind you snaps him out of his thoughts, your bright smile making his heart race when you tug him by the sleeve to your bed where the mattress dips underneath you as you curl into his form, resting your head on his chest and falling asleep. You’ve shared the bed before, countless times, but he knows you’ve only asked him because you’re tired. Because your brain is foggy with drowsiness that clouds your judgement, not because you want him there, not because you miss him when he’s two doors down the hall, tossing and turning at night thinking about you. He wonders absently if you can feel his aching heart beating through his chest, a painful, yet all too familiar rhythm that pulls his own eyes shut, plunging him into a deep sleep too.

It’s dark in the room when he wakes up, the sun already down behind the curtains and the soft yellow of the bedside lamp casting a glow around the space. You’re staring up at him, smiling and you don’t look away when he catches you. “What is it?” he asks, voice thick with sleep. 

“Nothing,” you mumble. “I just missed you.” Sunghoon has no time to respond or even register what you said before you clear your throat, speaking again.  “Come on, dad’s cooking tonight, he’ll need help.” 

Helping Sunghoon’s dad with dinner always looks an awful lot like Sunghoon eating snacks on the kitchen counter and staring at you as you help his dad cook. Tonight is no exception, he’s sitting on the island, and his snack of choice is a family pack of Chilli Heatwave Doritos his mum bought for Yeji. He’ll have to remember to replace them before leaving seeing as he’s reaching the halfway point. 

You go back and forth with his dad about measurements, with you rummaging through the drawers for measuring cups while his dad says it’s best to trust your gut. Reluctantly, you nod, chewing the inside of your cheek as you watch him eyeball the seasoning. 

The gas stove turns the kitchen into an oven, and you complain about it while opening a window, pulling your hoodie over your head and leaving it in Sunghoon’s lap. Time stops when you grin at him, the light from the stove hood illuminating the necklace you’re wearing, his initial resting on your chest and glowing under the light. He chokes around a crisp when he sees it, catching your attention with his coughing. 

“You’ll spoil your dinner, snacking like that, baby,” you scold, using a hand to push his knee. “We’re almost done, I swear.” 

All he can do is nod, cheeks burning as he folds the crisp packet over before putting it back in the bread bin where he found it. 

“Wow,” his dad says, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in amusement. “Being in love looks good on him, he’d never have listened if I said that.” 

It’s already your last day when Sunghoon picks up Yeji from school. She grumbles for the entire half-hour drive and all the way to the front door about why the two of you couldn’t have started the trip today instead of ending it, but all of her irritation dissolves when she sees you in the hallway, leaving the front door wide open to fling her arms around you. You and Yeji exchange compliments for a while — You look so pretty. No, you look so pretty. I love your hair. I love your hair. — as Sunghoon locks the door and watches with a smile.

“God.” Yeji sighs, holding you by the waist and craning her neck up to look at you, as you push some of her hair from her face, pinning back her wispy bangs with the palm of your hand. Yeji giggles. “I’m so happy you two are together, even though I have no idea what a girl like you sees in my loser brother.” 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, leaning back against the wall. Despite his mild irritation at Yeji’s words, he finds the sight of you with her so adorable his stomach flutters. Over the top of Yeji’s head, you look at him with a fond smile. “He’s not so bad.” 

It doesn’t sound like a compliment, but Sunghoon takes it to heart. 

Like always, Yeji manages to capture your undivided attention and the two of you giggle and whisper with each other all afternoon while Sunghoon watches, too enamoured by the sight to care about being left out. An hour or so passes like this, until his parents get home from work, excited to see Yeji after a few weeks, and you leave her side, coming to cuddle with Sunghoon instead. 

It’s nice being home with everyone, laughing and sharing a meal before his family walks the two of you to his car with at least a month’s worth of cooked food for you to share at university. Yeji makes you pinky promise that she can visit you and waves with a pout on her face until the car is out of view.

Contrary to what he’d been expecting, the drive back is nice. Your playlist is on, and you’re telling him about all the new songs you added, catching him up on things with Chaewon and Yunjin, and all the things you got up to in the time you spent apart. You tell him about a new café that opened up near your place and how you’ll have to go together when he has the time, and Sunghoon bites his tongue before telling you that he always has time for you. The first half of the trip goes on like this but you start dozing off around the halfway mark, your sentences becoming few and far between, eventually turning into half-mumbled thoughts that end prematurely. 

You’re still asleep when he reaches your flat, head propped up against the window with your soft lips parted, looking too pretty and cosy to wake up. Instead, he drives in circles around your block, deciding to wait for you to wake up on your own. It only takes a half-hour but you blink your eyes open, stretching your neck before looking around and out the car window, recognising the street. You don’t say anything, only smiling when you look at him, a small curve of your lips that makes his heart race.

He gets out of the car with you, opening the boot to get your bag before pulling you into his chest for a hug, liking the way your arms settle around his waist. “Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair. 

Sunghoon doesn’t follow you when you take your bag from him, only watching from the back of his car. You don’t notice until you reach the main door, looking over your shoulder and frowning at him. “Aren’t you going to walk me up?” 

The two of you walk in silence up four flights of stairs as the lift in your building is out of order. Your bag feels much heavier in his hand now than it did outside. At your door, he watches you dig around for your keys, sighing with relief when you find them. 

“Do you want to come in?” you ask from your open doorway.

“I—uh—I have training in the morning and I’m already pretty tired, so..” He trails off.

Unfazed, you nod. “Right, of course. I had fun this week.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

You smile at him, sweet and sincere. “Text me when you get home, yeah?” 

Sunghoon nods, saying goodbye. Out of habit, he doesn’t leave your doorstep until he hears the lock click shut, and walks back to his car with his head down. 

True to his word, he sends you a text to let you know he got back to his place safely and you read it immediately but don’t reply. It’s empty in the apartment, Jake is out with his football team and the space is larger than usual in his absence. Far too tired to even consider going out and joining him, Sunghoon goes through his night routine, putting his phone on the charger and stepping into the shower where he spends entirely too long wishing he could live in this week forever as he scrubs his body. With brushed teeth and damp hair, he goes back into his room where his phone lights up with a notification; a text, from you.

YN🫀: i’m glad you got home okay, i just got into bed :) i don’t want to make you uncomfortable or overstep or anything and you can say no (obviously).. i’ve been missing you so much and didn’t know how to reach out or if you wanted me to but i had soooo much fun this week and spending time with you again made me happy, so i’d like it if we could keep hanging out, like before yk? ik it’s a long shot ahahaha but just say you’ll think about it? 

hoonie: You’re not overstepping at all, I’ve missed you too, so bad. I had soooo much fun this week as well and I’d like it a lot if we kept hanging out, thank you for agreeing and coming along 😚 If you’re free after Lit tmrw you could come over? Or we could go out and do something, whatever you prefer

hoonie: I missed you so much.. 

hoonie: 🤍

The texts greet you as the first rays of Monday morning light filter into your room, instantly lifting your mood. Your bright smile doesn’t escape Chaewon’s notice as you find her in the kitchen, bathed in the soft light seeping through the sheer curtains. The kettle is boiling with a loud rumble that fills the whole room and leaves her yelling as she speaks to you. 

“Good trip?” she asks, coming over and hugging you. “Never leave me for that long again,” she mumbles into your shirt. 

“It was a week, Wonie,” you say, rolling your eyes even though you missed her too. 

She leans away, looking at you with knitted brows. “It was nine days.” 

“The longest of my life.” 

Chaewon pulls air through her teeth, tilting her head and releasing you. “That bad, huh?” she asks, walking back to her seat at your tiny square table and shooting you a look that tells you to join her. 

During your trip, you gave her nightly updates over text, so you know she knows how much you enjoyed yourself, but you elaborate anyway, sitting across from her. 

“No, not at all,” you say, shaking your head and trying to fight a smile. “I had fun.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the grin curving them; it doesn’t work. 

Chaewon raises a suggestive brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “How much fun?” 

“You’re disgusting.” 

“I didn’t even say anything!” she defends, holding her hands up. “I made an implication. It was only a matter of time, you two have that whole.. lifelong best friends to lifelong lovers thing going on, and it’s hot.” 

“Shut up.” 

“You’re telling me, you spent nine days playing lovers with Sunghoon and you still don’t want him? You’re a lost cause, people would kill for that chance,” she says, tilting her head. “I think I would kill for that chance.” 

“Don’t touch him.”

“Oh?” 

“Jesus, Chaewon, it’s not like that. Hoon’s too sensitive for your roster.” 

“I never said it was like anything, you’re the one who’s dangling me over the ledge for saying I want to fuck your hot best friend.” 

“Sunghoon isn’t hot; he’s..” You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure how to continue your lie. Of course, Sunghoon is hot, you’ve known since you were seventeen and spent the summer at your grandparents’ house, only to come back to find your previously scrawny best friend having ditched his LEGOs for dumbbells. You sigh. “Just leave him alone.”

Chaewon grins, eyes sparkling as she leaves the table. “Okay,” she says in a singsong voice, leaving you and the irritation in your stomach alone in the kitchen.

You sigh, pressing your eyes shut and trying to will away your discomfort. It’s not like Chaewon would actually try anything with Sunghoon. Right? Even if she did, it wouldn’t bother you, nor would it be any of your business. They’re grownups and reserve the right to explore their options. Still, there’s a nagging feeling you can’t shake, an uninvited guest in the back of your mind. 

When you check your phone, you realise you have half an hour before you need to head to campus, so you leave to get ready and text Sunghoon back on the way to your room.

you: sounds good, see u later 🤍

After showering, you stand in front of your wardrobe, towel hanging from your body as you pick an outfit. For some reason, you feel under pressure, picking a pair of jeans that do the most for your ass and a low-cut top that Sunghoon once — drunkenly — said he loved on you.

You have the residual sting of mouthwash on your tongue, and one foot out the door when your phone vibrates in your hand. 

hoonie: Do you want to head to class together? 

you: sure! i’m omw out, where should i get you? 

hoonie: .. I’m outside your building :D 

Breathing a laugh through your nose, you don’t fight the giddy smile on your face as you make your way downstairs to meet Sunghoon. Through the glass in the main door, he’s standing at the edge of the pavement and kicking a stone between his feet. The top of his puffer jacket covers the bottom half of his face, and the draught nips your skin when the door opens. Two girls you vaguely recognise stumble in with smudged makeup and heels in their hands, smiling at you while holding the door to let you out.

“Hey!” you call out, jogging over to him. 

Sunghoon turns around, his head poking out of his jacket to grin at you, holding a travel cup and an abundance of tinfoil in your direction. 

“I wasn’t sure if you’d have eaten anything yet, you don’t normally in the morning,” he says, a sheepish smile spreading over his lips when you take it. “Matcha. Ham and cheese toastie.” 

“Did you make these?” you ask, inspecting the familiar cup and appreciating the warmth it provides. 

He hums, nodding his head.

You ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks and thank him with a hug, grinning when he offers to hold your drink while you eat on the walk. The toastie is still hot, the cheese coming close to burning your tongue as you chew, but you appreciate it wholeheartedly, humming contently with each bite. When you’re done, you shove the foil into your pocket, taking your drink from him and smiling around the sweet taste of a matcha latte as he tells you about his schedule for the day. 

“I’m meeting with Coach after class to talk about my grades, but I’m all yours after that.” 

“Talk about your grades? What’s wrong with your grades?” 

Sunghoon groans, head falling back and highlighting the bump of his Adam’s apple. “My grades are.. I failed my coursework this month, so I have resubmissions during finals, and I think he’ll bench me if I fail again.” 

He sounds like he’s being serious, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he is. The news creases your brows because for as long as you remember, Sunghoon’s grades were your parents’ favourite point of comparison.

“Really?” you ask. He nods. “What’s up? Is something the matter?” 

A humourless laugh slips out of him before he pulls air through his teeth. “Yeah, my best friend didn’t talk to me for three months.” 

“Oh..” Guilt stirs your stomach as you look up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not blaming you, it’s not like I was trying to talk and you ignored me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow, giving you a warm smile. “But if you feel as guilty about it as you look, you can tutor me for Lit.” 

“Deal.” 

Sunghoon grins, wrapping his arm over your shoulders and holding you close; the action itself isn’t unusual, but the increased heart rate it brings about is. “You’re too good to me,” he says, holding onto you for the rest of the walk to class.

At his request, you sit with Sunghoon in the back row, watching as the lecture hall gradually fills up in front of you. He seems well-prepared, with his laptop and a small notepad and pen neatly arranged on the desk in front of him.

Throughout the class, your eyes inadvertently track his every move. He diligently types up colour-coded notes, occasionally pausing to write things in his notepad before continuing to type or stopping entirely to listen. There’s something melodic about his actions and the way his fingers run over the keyboard. 

During a five-minute break, you glance at his screen. What you find is more than just lecture content; it’s a document adorned with Sunghoon’s own musings about Hemingway’s style and carefully analysed quotations that go beyond the class discussion.

“How are your notes so good?” 

“I picked up the book over the summer when you mentioned it,” Sunghoon replies with a shrug, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans back in his seat. “I liked it.” 

A slow nod is your response, though your thoughts swirl like autumn leaves in a breeze. The last time Sunghoon read for leisure, you were in primary school, buddy reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid. But this—this is different. You can’t help but stare at him, awestruck as you take him in. His eyes are wide, shining amber in the sunlight as he pushes some of his hair from his face, frowning when it falls back where it was. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles. 

Sunghoon takes a new line in his document and points at the screen where you watch the cursor move through the words he’s typing: I would’ve read and annotated the Bible if you wanted me to..

There’s no time to digest what he wrote or the funny feeling in your chest as you reread it before he deletes the whole sentence, pressing his lips together and looking out the window. Speechless, you stare at his side profile, willing your heart rate to slip back to normal. Steep-sloping nose, plump lips flattened into a line, two points of the triangular mole constellation on his face. Analysis worsens your condition, breath hitching in your throat before stopping entirely. Warmth and trepidation blend within you, fuzzy enough at the edges to seem like one thing—a single force that makes your palm itch with desire, desperation, to reach out and run a finger over his features, feel the bump of the mole on his nose — the most prominent — against your skin. 

You remain this way — silent, watching — even when your lecturer resumes the lesson, and Sunghoon starts typing, writing, and listening again. Polite enough to pretend he doesn’t notice your gaze searing into his face.

After class, and his meeting with Coach, you let Sunghoon lead the conversation and the way to your flat, where you find Chaewon and Yunjin sitting on the couch, whispering to themselves while the two of you study at the coffee table. It’s uncomfortable, an awkward height, too high for the way you’re sitting but you feel calm under the supervision of Chaewon and Yunjin—you won’t do anything to merit teasing in front of them, no matter how badly you want to feel Sunghoon’s face in your hands or stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs. 

To the best of your ability, you answer the questions he has for you—he’d written a ton in his tiny notepad during class, his own concerns clear with each neatly-penned iteration of: How to see actions/dialogue for what they are and not what I want them to be? written in the margins and you try not to feel heartbroken for him.

Three hours have passed by when you walk him to the door, the two of you wrapped up in a bubble so secure you’re surprised to find Chaewon and Yunjin still sitting on the couch. They don’t say anything about Sunghoon in his absence, or the fact he’d given you his sweater when he noticed you were cold. You’re not sure why their silence disappoints you.

Instead, Yunjin asks you about trivial things like dinner while Chaewon sits in silence. 

“What flavour for ice cream?” Yunjin asks, rolling her eyes when you tug on the blanket but not complaining. “And don’t say something ridiculous like mint chocolate, YN.” 

“That happened once! And it was three years ago.. How was I supposed to know you hate fun?” 

Chaewon leans into you, letting you curl your limbs around her from behind as you rest your chin on her shoulder, liking the way her clean scent tickles your nose. 

“Mint-cho isn’t that bad,” she starts. “It’s a little jarring, sure, but it’s kind of sweet. Like watching people come to terms with their feelings for each other.” 

You nod your head, humming in understanding and furrowing your brows when Yunjin scoffs, staring straight at you. Her tone is equal parts cutting and loving, so you know she’s not trying to insult you, but don’t know what she means when she says, “It must be so nice to be as oblivious as you.” 

Yunjin never elaborates, and you never ask, actually feeling the statement’s journey in through one of your ears and out the other when dinner arrives. The three of you share pizza, ice cream, and secrets — the three pillars of 20-something-teenage-girlhood — at the kitchen table, with Chaewon sitting in your lap and picking pepperoni from your slices. 

It’s only hours after Yunijn’s gone home, that her words circle back to you, the statement and all of its weight perching on your chest with all the debilitation and persistence of a sleep paralysis demon.

“I think I’m getting sick,” you say as soon as she opens her door. “It’s been coming on for a while now, at least a week, maybe more.” 

Unimpressed and exhausted, Yunjin looks down at you through half-closed eyes. “Do you..” She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?” 

“Yes. It’s three a.m.” 

“Exactly. See a doctor if you’re sick, I’m going back to sleep.”

“This is an emergen—” Yunjin cuts you off by pinching your lips together. “It’s three in the morning,” she reminds you. “You can’t yell like that in my hallway, come in.” 

You nod, crossing the threshold and taking off your shoes next to hers. “Sorry,” you whisper when the door is closed. 

Using her hand, Yunjin lifts your chin, squinting as her eyes adjust to the light when she flips the switch to inspect your face. “You don’t look or sound sick,” she mutters, flicking the light back off and going to her room. “What are your symptoms? And why did you come here?” 

You don’t have an answer for her last question so you ignore it, following her and tripping over a pair of her shoes in the process. “My cheeks start burning like crazy and my heart races, sometimes it gets hard to breathe.”

“You seem fine to me.” 

A shoulder-slumping sigh slips from your lips. “That’s the thing. I’ll be fine and then Sunghoon shows up with his pretty smile and perfect hair and I feel like I’ve run a marathon.” You know how it sounds, choosing your wording meticulously to let Yunjin be the one to say the words out loud instead of you—it’ll be easier to confront that way. 

From the doorway, you watch as she arches a brow, her interest piqued. “Oh?” 

“I know.” You nod, head bobbing rapidly in furious agreement. “It’s only a matter of time before I cough up a lung and die in his bedroom.”

At your words, Yunjin doesn't reply, only lifting her duvet and getting cosy underneath. You feel like you’re glued to the spot, waiting for her to say something, anything, but nothing comes. All she does is pat the empty spot in her bed. 

“What are you smirking for?” you ask, entering the room properly and closing the door. 

Her response only comes after you’ve taken your jacket and hoodie off, sitting next to her under the covers. “It’s nothing,” she says, laughing. 

“Tell me.” 

Yunjin sighs, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. You think it’s meant to be comforting but it’s the opposite. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Lovesickness isn’t deadly.” 

Feeling the weight of her reassurance, you settle down properly and sigh when your head hits the pillow. Lovesickness. Hmm. 

Closing your eyes, you try to sleep but can’t help tossing and turning as Yunjin snores behind you. You pat blindly around the end table for your phone, grabbing it and wincing at the brightness of your screen. Chewing on your lip, you open Google, looking up ‘lovesickness’ and frowning immediately at the results. Endless negativity fills the screen, terrifying words like ‘unrequited love’ forming a pit in your stomach. There’s nothing negative about what you feel for Sunghoon, nothing unrequited—you think. 

It was obvious during the trip, painfully so. In the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear when his parents weren’t there to see, or how he slipped up and called you ‘baby’ in the bathroom, blushing when you said it back. You can’t fake something like that.. Can you?

Yeonjun did.

Shaking your head, you open Instagram to distract yourself. Jake’s story comes up first; he’s at a party where Jay is losing a game of beer pong, and at the other end of the table is Sunghoon grinning with a bright red lipstick kiss on his cheek. You lock your phone, using your hands to press on your belly to stop the stirring. 

Oh, you think. Lovesickness. 

When you wake up, the first thing you do is check Jake’s story again. The video is still there and that terrible stir in your stomach churns on, burrowing deeply into a pit of canyon-like proportion—so vast there’s a safety railing lining its edges. 

You eat breakfast in silence with Yunjin, zoning out mid-chew to figure out the origin of these feelings and how to handle them. Suddenly, the moment hits you clear as day, vivid like you’re watching it on a screen—it was your third night at his parents’ house, after your walk. 

You felt bad about how you acted, and what you said, so went straight up to your room. With nothing but the bedside lamp turned on, it was dimly lit, shadows cast on the walls as you sulked, replaying everything in your head. Guilt wrapped its long arms around your body, making you feel sick as you thought about it all. About the hurt etched over his face with every word you said, and the frown that stuck around for the rest of the walk as his hand clung limply to yours. 

There was a knock at the door, so gentle you almost missed it, and Sunghoon was standing there when you pulled it open, chewing on his lip with a mug in his hand. Steam skated over the opening, a rich chocolatey smell hitting your nose but the real kicker was the mug itself. In its place on Jake and Sunghoon’s mug tree, it was unassuming, a regular white mug, but upon meeting hot water, the face of young Sunghoon appeared, grinning with his tiny glasses on. It was a gift from one of his old coaches and though he never used it, it was your absolute favourite cup in the world. 

You felt soft around the edges when you looked up at him, his eyes wide and unsure as you met his gaze—he brought that mug three hours across the country so you could use it again. The thought shifted your heart into a comfortable position, settling in your chest with overwhelming warmth and an increased rate. 

“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat. 

“Hi,” he repeated, holding the mug out for you to take. “It’s still hot so be careful.” 

Nodding, you covered your hands with your sleeves, taking the cup from him and asking if he wanted to come in. Sunghoon nodded, shutting the door behind him and standing by the bed, watching you set the hot chocolate on the bedside table as you sat down. The two of you stayed like that for a while, with him only moving when you patted the spot next to you on the duvet. Your train of thought escaped you as soon as he sat down, the warmth of his familiar fresh, citrusy scent taking over and becoming the only thing you could register. The smell of summers with him, long days at the beach and short nights spent on the couch at random parties, cuddled into his side with his arm over your shoulders. The smell you’d come to associate with comfort and home—with Sunghoon. 

“It’s not fair for me to treat you like shit just because I’m annoyed, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier. I’m sorry.” 

A crease ran over Sunghoon’s thick brows as they tugged together, he shook his head. “You don’t have to apologise. I roped you into this whole thing and didn’t even try to think about how you would feel. I’m sorry.” His eyes carried a mix of regret and sincerity, mirroring the weight of his words.

“Anyway, I only came to bring you that,” he said, pointing at the cup. “And to check up on you, I’ll get out of your hair for tonight.” Sunghoon wiped his palms on his pants before standing up, reaching behind him to pick up the cloth he brought. For a moment, he stood there, staring down at it in his hand while you thought about telling him to stay, telling him that you wanted him in your hair—whatever that meant. But he spoke before you had the chance. “You left this, at mine, after.. well, you know. I’m sure you left it intentionally, I mean it was folded up perfectly on the end of my bed, so I know you did, but it didn’t feel right keeping it, you always wore it more than me.” 

Sunghoon extended his hand, holding it out to you and you knew exactly what it was as soon as the fabric touched your skin after so long. It was the shirt Jay bought him for Christmas in first year—they were roommates still trying to get a feel for each other. For a few weeks, Sunghoon had been pestering you about what he should get for Jay, saying it didn’t feel right not to get him anything, and you suggested a targeted t-shirt, one you’d been laughing at all day after seeing an ad for it on your timeline. Sunghoon was sceptical, but bought the red shirt anyway, hoping Jay would find BEING DAD IS AN HONOUR, BEING PAPA IS PRICELESS funny. He did. And Jay bought Sunghoon a targeted shirt too, your favourite. It was black and two sizes too big, with I NEVER DREAMED I’D BE A SEXY FIGURE SKATER BUT HERE I AM KILLING IT written over the chest. 

“Goodnight, YN,” Sunghoon said, crossing the room to leave but hesitating before closing the door. He poked his head through the opening and sighed. “I really am sorry.”

That night, you fell asleep in the shirt, the thinning, yet cosy, fabric wrapped around you like a hug as your heart started to beat a new rhythm, one that eerily echoed the five-foot-eleven figure skater who you let break it. 

This morning, Yunjin claps her hands in your face, seeming irritated when you look over at her. “You have class in an hour, what are you doing?” Before you have the chance to speak, realisation covers her face. “Oh, the feelings.” 

You nod solemnly, too caught up in the butterflies raiding your stomach to come up with something to say. 

At lightspeed, you scarf down the rest of your food, apologising for showing up so late as you head out the door. When you get home, you take the fastest shower of your life and feel grateful Chaewon isn’t around to tease you about the smile you can’t wipe from your face thinking about Sunghoon—you’ll text her later.

You run to campus, feeling the brisk autumn wind beating against your face while the rest of your body overheats under your jacket, hoodie and long sleeve. Despite the discomfort and ache in your lungs, you don’t stop until you reach the door of your lecture hall, huffing and puffing into the faces of classmates who don’t take any notice. Of course, in a stroke of pure luck, your lecturer is late, and you realise bitterly, that all of your huffing and puffing was in vain—you would have gotten to class with time to spare even if you walked.

It’s not a total waste though; you use the time to update Chaewon. 

you: i have news wonie..  i like sunghoon

wonie: …………….. fork in the kitchen yn what’s the news? 

wonie: OHHHH news to YOU.. can i call? 

She calls you immediately. You answer without thinking because your lecturer still hasn’t arrived, and there’s no one sitting close enough to hear or notice you taking a call. 

“Are you going to tell him?!” Chaewon’s voice is so loud you wince, pulling the phone away from your ear. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug even though she can’t see you, still holding the device at a distance just in case. “I don’t have any confirmation that he still.. likes me. It’s been a while, and I was pretty mean that day. 

Chaewon groans and you can picture her throwing herself onto her bed, exasperated. The rustling that comes through the receiver only frames the image, hanging it up. “Did you have to tell him to get a grip?” 

“You know..” You trail off, chewing on your bottom lip. “In hindsight, probably not.” 

A beat passes, she’s thinking. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll help you.” 

“I.. have never been so worried in my life.” You sigh, picking at your freshly painted nails. “But I know you’ll do something no matter what I say, so do what you want, Wonie, but please be subtle about it.” 

Chaewon squeals down the phone. “I love youuuuu!” And it’s the last thing she says before kissing the mic a few times and hanging up. 

Slumping in your seat, you don’t have any time to stress about Chaewon’s plans because your lecturer walks in, with a travel cup in her hand and a paperback tucked under her arm. 

She apologises for being late, running a hand through her hair as she announces that you’ll be watching a film, an adaptation of a book you read at the start of term—Ian McEwan’s Atonement. You spend the first hour of the movie falling in and out of sleep until a text comes through from Sunghoon, and sheer excitement keeps you up.

hoonie: Wanna study together after class? 

you: of course!!!!!! 

hoonie: 🤍

The rest of the movie goes by in a drag, and you come away from it with a mild irritation towards Saoirse Ronan.

you: class just finished, heading to lib rn 

hoonie: Shit, still in the locker room, sorry !!! Omw, can you get a table? 

you: i’ll try..

It takes a while but you find an empty booth on the second floor, and set your bag on the plush green seat to take pictures of your surroundings to send to Sunghoon. You sit on the side facing the stairs so he can see you when he arrives. The thought of seeing him makes your heart race and you try out a few natural-seeming poses for when he’s here, cycling between resting your palm under your chin and sitting with your arms crossed a few times until the top of his head comes into view. 

Seeing him knocks the wind out of you as he approaches the staircase, taking them two at a time with his damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing a tight black vest, and his sweats are hanging low on his hips. A breath you didn’t realise you were holding slips out when he lifts his head, spotting you immediately as a grin spreads over his lips and he raises his arm to wave, the veins in his forearm peeking out to say hi too. You can’t tell if it’s his lack of winter wardrobe or your newfound appreciation for him that’s making his biceps look so huge but it’s hard to look away, even when he reaches the table. 

“Are you hot?” you blurt out. 

Sunghoon laughs, raising a brow and something about the way he’s looking down at you makes your cheeks burn. “Depends who’s asking.” He takes his backpack off, leaving it on the table as he sits down, dumping his jacket and hoodie in a pile beside him.

“I’m asking,” you mumble. 

“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.” 

Is he flirting? It sounds like he’s flirting. Flirt back! “Nice arms.” 

He looks down at his biceps for a beat before looking at you warily. “Are you flirting with me?” He can’t fight the smile twitching at the corners of his lips but he tries his best, pressing them into a straight line.

“A little. They are nice though,” you admit.

Sunghoon grins. “Thanks, I’ve had them for a while now.”

You can’t come up with anything to say, too distracted by the way his smile reaches his eyes, lighting up his whole face and forcing a flustered heat to spread over your cheeks and neck. It’s only when you look away from him that you remember what you’re here for. It’s a study date, not a study date—there’s a difference. 

You hand Sunghoon the material you’d printed for him over the weekend, excerpts from texts you’d studied in class, so he can practise close reading and proper citation. As he makes his way through them, you can’t help stealing glances, smiling at the way his tongue sticks out a little while he focuses, or how he twirls his pen in his fingers while he’s thinking. You aren’t making the best use of your time together, copying out the slides from class yesterday, but you can’t help noticing the way he watches you when he thinks you can’t see. The small smile on his face while he does so only flusters you, an odd weakness settling in your knees as your cheeks heat up. 

After a while, Sunghoon sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Could you stop watching me?”

“If you noticed me watching, that means you’re watching me.” 

He shrugs, chewing on his lip. “Well, yeah. I’m always watching you,” he says like it’s a given. “But you don’t normally watch back, it’s distracting.” 

“You’re distracting.”

A playful smile curves his lips as he arches a brow, smugness painting his face. “Am I?” 

Too scared to verbalise your response, you nod slowly, hoping you don’t look as wound up as you feel. 

Sunghoon’s eyes flick over your face, flashing with something you don’t recognise. At least not from him. He sits back in his seat, assessing you and eventually shaking his head. 

“You know,” he says, eyes glowing with something you do recognise: cockiness. “If my sexy arms are getting to you that much, I can always put my hoodie back on. Wouldn’t want my little tutor getting distracted, would I?” 

Oh. 

Your stomach turns with want, mind reeling from his tone and the way his gaze lands on your lips. Sighing, you roll your eyes and try to seem unaffected. “Sunghoon, I never said your arms were sexy.” 

His phone starts to go off, buzzing against the table and he turns it over immediately, screen down on the surface as he shifts his focus back to his work. He chews on his lip while he does, eyes flicking back and forth between his phone and the words on the page. Curious, you lean over the table, elbows propped up as you rest your chin in your hands. He doesn’t spare you or his phone, which vibrates another four times, a glance.

“Are you going to get that?” 

Sunghoon shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” 

You hum, letting just enough curiosity seep into the sound that he’ll elaborate without being asked to. It doesn’t take long for him to deliver.

“It’s just Chaewon,” he says, running his hand through his hair and lifting his head. Sunghoon smiles. “We’ve been texting a lot these days.” 

“Cool.” You nod a few times, aiming for nonchalance but hitting bobblehead as you wait for him to continue. He doesn’t, only humming in response, nodding too. 

After a beat, he picks up his phone, angling it just high enough that you can’t see the screen. He reads the messages, an exhaled laugh coming from his nose as the tips of his ears redden—Fuck. This is worse than you thought. 

Chaewon’s commitment to girl code runs deep—she’s been rebuffing Jake since first year when she overheard a girl she’d never seen before telling her friends she thought he was cute. So you know without having to read the texts that nothing she’s saying is even remotely flirty, you can smell the auto-caps and use of the word ‘buddy’ from across the table. 

What you hadn’t counted on, however, was the potential for Sunghoon’s feelings to shift. If they really have been texting more, can you rule out the possibility that he might like.. her? Chaewon is a catch, beyond a catch, and you’d already turned Sunghoon down. Brutally. Of course, he’d move on, he has moved on. 

The rest of the study session is spent manifesting, writing Park Sunghoon over and over in the back of your notebook. You fill three pages while brainstorming ways to snatch a lock of his hair until he suggests that the two of you call it a day. He walks you home, telling you about how Jake’s been bribing him with food to get a ride to the LEGO store across town for the new Marvel set. 

“With or without the meals, I would’ve taken him, but his ramen is my favourite, so..” Sunghoon says, climbing the last step of your building and holding the door open for you. “He even brought a slice of tiramisu to the rink for me after practice.” 

“You’re terrible,” you say, frowning up at him as you search for your keys. “Do you want to come in?” 

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “I have a meeting with one of my lecturers soon, I’d have to leave in—” He pauses, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. “—eight minutes.” 

“I’m cool with that if you are,” you mumble, suddenly shy. 

A bright smile spreads over his lips and he nods, following you in. 

Chilled by the harsh wind, the only thing on your mind is a hot drink as you lead Sunghoon to the kitchen. He shakes his head when you offer him one, sitting on the countertop and exhaling into his palms before rubbing them together. You can’t help but frown at the sight, feeling guilty that you can’t change the weather to suit him. At your thought process, your brows raise. Wow, you think. Is this who you are? 

You busy yourself with the selection of hot drinks you and Chaewon have accumulated, eyeing each container from top to bottom. A purple tub of Cadbury’s hot chocolate that you’re sure is on the brink of expiration, coffee—sachets of the instant stuff you’ve grown to like since leaving home, Earl grey from one of many brands, or the fancy silk tea bags Chaewon’s mum brought home from a trip—rooibos or plum-apple-cinnamon. 

Craving something sweet, you settle for hot chocolate, pulling the heavy container from the cupboard next to Sunghoon’s head and setting it beside your cup. He’s on his phone, scrolling too fast to take in anything he’s seeing and he shakes his head when you ask if he wants something to drink. 

On the dish rack, Chaewon’s mug catches your eye, so you pick it up to dry it off and put it down next to yours. “I’m going to check if Wonie wants any,” you say, wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter onto the floor. 

Sunghoon only clears his throat, shaking his head. “She’s not home, one of her acrylics popped off so she’s at the shop waiting for a cancellation.” 

The information itself isn’t jarring but hearing it from Sunghoon is. You put on what you hope is a neutral smile and nod, taking milk from the fridge and assembling your drink on autopilot while thinking of ways to redirect the conversation. 

“If you knew you’d have to go back to campus so soon, why’d you walk me home?” you ask, watching your cup spin in the microwave. “I could’ve walked on my own.” 

Sunghoon is already looking at you when you turn your head, his cheeks puffed out with air as he blinks slowly. Because I love you, is what you hope he’ll say. You think you need him to say it. 

“Because you don’t have to do anything on your own when you have me,” he says instead, and it’s infinitely better. 

The words seep through your every fibre, his intonation and lucid affection making a home for themselves in your heart, spreading warmth from head to toe. Your smile becomes a radiant grin, only brightening when he shakes his head, smiling down at his feet. 

Sunghoon hugs you in the kitchen when it’s time for him to leave, his arms holding you tight to his chest as he rocks you back and forth. You inhale his scent, all warm citrus under freshly washed cotton and something exclusive to him.

Wiping the smile from your face feels impossible. You don’t let go when he does, and a sweet laugh — a giggle, you think — tumbles out of him as he mumbles that he really has to go. Still, you cling onto him, taking clumsy steps backwards, with your arms locked around his waist, to your front door, smiling as you watch him put his shoes on. 

“You don’t have to walk me downstairs, honestly,” he says, looking down at you in the doorway.

“I want to.” 

His lips quirk up at the corners, a full smile breaking through and causing your stomach to flutter with so much force you’re sure it’s visible through your shirt. His eyes fall to your lips, lingering, before he clears his throat, looking away. 

“I’ll text you when I get to the door, promise.” 

You lock your pinky with his. “Send a selfie, just so I know it’s you and not someone else using your phone.” 

Sunghoon’s head falls back in a laugh. “Should I just call you? That way you can make sure I get back to uni in one piece.” 

You nod.

“That wasn’t anything with Chaewon earlier, I just needed advice on some girl stuff..” He trails off, searching your eyes. It’s obvious that he’s telling the truth, that he wants you to believe him. You do. “I wasn’t sure if that was something I could talk about with you.” 

Girl stuff. Hmm. You try not to read too much into it and look at the bigger picture instead—your best friend is going through something and doesn’t feel like he can come to you about it.. You squeeze his pinky reassuringly, a flutter in your stomach when he smiles. 

“You can talk to me about anything,” you say, meaning it. 

Sunghoon presses his lips together, humming and unlinking your fingers. “Next time,” he says after a beat, waving at you. 

You shut the door, locking it while watching through the peephole, he leaves as soon as the lock clicks shut. In the kitchen, your hot chocolate is cooling down, and your phone rings in your back pocket. Sunghoon’s calling. 

Hanging out with Sunghoon. Making sure he sticks to the time-blocked schedule you made for him. Quizzing him on biology terms until he gets restless. If the last two weeks were an episode of Family Feud, those would be the top three answers to the question: Name something YN is doing right now.

Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one. 

You’ve been sitting on the couch for so long, Jake has both left for football practice and arrived from football practice. Conversation ebbs and flows—an hour or so of nonstop talking, followed by another hour or so of comfortable near silence. 

It’s during a quiet hour that Sunghoon sits up straight, clearing his throat before saying, “Let me ask you something. He retreats to the other side of the couch, turning to face you with his whole body. “I don’t want things to be weird after I ask, so no matter what your answer is, I won’t bring it up or ask again.”

Arching a curious brow, you nod. “You can ask me anything,” you say, meaning it.

Sunghoon’s face is impressively blank—minus the motion of sharp teeth worrying plush lip, there’s absolutely nothing behind his eyes that seem to stare right through you. 

Eventually, he asks, “Can I kiss you?” He says more. Big, scary words like for closure and moving on, but they don’t register. They don’t matter. 

Your heart pounds at the base of your throat as you find interest in your hands that sit in your lap. Even without looking at him, you can’t get over the slight crease he had in his brow and the slight tremor in his hands. 

“For closure,” you repeat, though your voice doesn’t sound like it’s coming from you, muffled under the thump of your heart. 

Sunghoon nods. “For closure.” 

A humourless laugh sneaks past your throat as you look at him. You shouldn’t have. In the lamplight, Sunghoon is golden and glorious. Warm light casts one side of his face, diffusing gently over the steep slope of his nose, highlighting his moles and the look in his eyes, gentle and curious all at once. Unwillingly, your gaze falls to his lips, parted, tempting. 

One firm nod of your head brings Sunghoon’s hand to your face, his palm cupping your cheek with soft skin as his thumb traces your cheekbone. You grow anxious under his stare, under the drag of his eyes over your features, taking them one at a time like he’s committing them to memory.

Leaning in, your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet his and he freezes, mouth completely still on yours. Delicately, your tongue traces the seam of his lips, soft and plump, until they part for you, moving with yours. Sunghoon’s kiss is unpolished when it reaches you. It’s hesitant but tender, clumsy but sweet, he’s trying and he’s perfect; your favourite. 

The kiss is.. it’s everything. It’s the racing of your heart, the thudding, the vibrant buzz you can hear, feel humming against your ears. It’s a rush of blood to the head, a lightness all over that pulls you out of your body. It’s Sunghoon’s soft lips curving into a smile against yours, his gentle hold on your face never letting up as he holds you as close as he can manage, and it’s every bit as lovely as the rest of him.

Palpable is the heartbeat of your friendship, beating to a lull under the surface of the kiss, fizzling out into nothing, a steady silence, flatlining to give way to something more, something bigger. 

Every brush of your lips against his is a revelation, a confession. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, you tell him with your kiss. You’re everything I need. His free hand finds yours, locking your fingers and squeezing, the action timed well enough to make you think he hears you, to make you think he’s saying, we’ll be okay, I still love you. 

With that, he pulls away, a delicate tension piercing the air. Blown eyes and laboured breathing—he’s beautiful, fuzzy around the edges with warm orange and all of the love in your heart. Breathless, you chew on your lip, cognisant of Sunghoon’s hand in yours and the sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you. 

Belatedly, you squeeze his hand back, smiling. “Was it everything you ever dreamed of?” you whisper, part teasing, all curious.

Abruptly, Sunghoon stands up, letting go of you in the process. “I have to go.” 

You want to stop him, you think you’re supposed to. To grab him by the arm and kiss him again, to yell in his face that you love him until he understands. But you don’t. Instead, you stay seated, staring at Sunghoon’s back and following him with your eyes out of the room and down the hall until he’s out of sight. 

It’s your first time being so upset after a kiss, and you can’t tell if it’s his leaving or the mention of him moving on that’s tripping you up so much. That’s causing melancholy to crawl from the shadows, sinking its jagged nails into your skin to pull you under. 

You love him. He’s gone. 

Eyes stuck on the doorway, time stretches over the room around you, thick and malleable, wet and cloying—clay stuck under your nails for days as the fire in the kiln rages on. 

Sighing, you get up and wait at his door. You ball your hand into a limp fist, knocking weakly. Sunghoon doesn’t reply. You try again, harder. Still nothing. 

Barging into the room, you find him sitting on the end of his bed with his face in his hands. 

“Don’t move on.” The words come out before you realise and Sunghoon lifts his head, squinting at you. 

“Huh?” He tilts his head, watching closely as you approach him, tipping it back enough to meet your eyes when you stand over him. 

You take a breath, holding it until your head starts to spin. “I don’t want you to love someone else, Sunghoon. Please don’t move on.” 

The stillness that follows is disconcerting, a long quiet you can feel on your skin, amplifying the blank stare on his face as he looks up at you. His eyes flash, a spark of hope behind them so bright it stings to look at.

“Do you..” He trails off, his lips moving to form the next word though stopping short.

“I do,” you whisper, nodding. “I’m sorry for taking so long.”

An exhaled laugh comes from his nose as he grins, shaking his head. “You like me?” he asks, excitement and disbelief fighting for authority over his voice, his hands holding your waist and pulling you down into his lap.

“I love you,” you admit, settling on his thighs. 

“You do?” His eyes are wide and gleaming, searching every feature on your face before settling on your own.

You nod. “So much.” 

Sunghoon’s chin tips up, his lips pressing against yours, excited pecks that can’t turn into much more for the smiles on your faces. You rest your arms on his shoulders, hands clasping behind his head, nervous fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“So.. will you be my boyfriend? For real?” 

Tilting his head, he tries and fails to fight a smile. “I will. I’m a little bummed though.” 

“Why?” You raise a brow, and the word tips up at the end with it. 

“I wanted to be the one to ask you.” Sunghoon’s honesty warms the room, endearing you completely. 

You grin, loving the heat spreading over your cheeks. “Ask me anyway.” 

“Please can I be your boyfriend?” 

In the weeks that followed, it became immediately clear that boyfriend Sunghoon operated on a pendulum swinging between sexual ferality and terror. He’d get distracted during study sessions at home, finding more interest in biting at your neck than stream-of-consciousness prose, but closed his eyes if a sex scene came on TV. He’d buck his hips against yours while making out but flinch at the sight of condoms in the store.

He wasn’t ready to have sex and didn’t know how to tell you, so you took matters into your own hands, asking if you could wait until after his results for resubmission came in, saying you didn’t want the distraction for either of you. Sunghoon agreed, pecking your cheek and holding you tight to his chest. 

The only thing was that your lecturer hadn’t given him an exact date, so every morning, you held your phone in a vice grip waiting for Sunghoon to update you, and every morning, you got the same text: Nothing today, baby ☹️ 

This morning, you’re brushing your teeth when he texts you, in all caps: NO FUCKING WAY I GOT A 98 !!! LOOK !!!

When the picture comes through, it’s of him in the mirror and you choke on mouthwash at the sight. He’s smiling, bright and beautiful, in a black vest that he’s holding up a little to show his stomach, though his palm is in the way of his toned abs, and it cuts off right at the top of his grey sweatpants. 

Your mouth goes dry as you click on it, fixating on every little detail you can find: the thickness of his fingers against his phone, the dip in his collarbones, the breadth of his shoulders and the cinch of his waist. In a fit of desperation, you try swiping at the bottom of your screen, willing the picture to magically extend. It doesn’t. 

hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?

you: mm.. 

you: 98??? HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT YOU!!!

hoonie: All you.. do you like the picture?

you: i love it………….

hoonie: My girl 🤍

Another picture comes in, and sure enough, through the glare of his laptop screen, you see: Course name: The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway. Marks Awarded: 98.0.

you: well done baby !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hoonie: Thx 😁

hoonie: Can I have my prize now ha ha .. haha 😈

you: just for that emoji, no you absolutely cannot.

Your resolve isn’t strong enough when it comes to Sunghoon, because purple devil emoji and all, you show up at his door with condoms in your bag and a bouquet of lilies behind your back. 

The door creaks open and Sunghoon greets you with a grin. “Hey, gorgeous. You proud of me?” 

You beam at him, holding out the flowers. “I’m very proud, Hoon, well done.” 

“I don’t want to ruin the moment,” he starts, taking the bouquet from your hands and sniffing the flowers with an approving smile. “But hearing you say you’re proud of me is awakening something I didn’t know existed.”

“A good something?” 

“Mm,” he hums, arms finding your waist before he pecks your lips. “A very good something.” 

Sunghoon’s words hit your lips and your core, a desperate heat flooding your stomach as he kisses you deeply, his body pressed tightly against yours while he pulls you into his apartment. He kicks the door shut with his foot, slipping his hand under your jacket to settle in your back pocket, not quite squeezing but holding your ass as gently as he can manage. 

He breaks away from you, love in his eyes as he stares down into yours, catching his breath. “I don’t think we own a vase.” 

In his kitchen, you rifle through cupboards to find something to hold the flowers, eventually finding a whiskey decanter in the cupboard under the sink, and holding it up for Sunghoon to see.

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “It’s Jay’s. It’ll work right?” 

You nod, taking it to the sink to rinse it. Sunghoon wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder watching you fill the decanter with water and flower food before grabbing the bouquet. He presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and you struggle to stay focused as you cut down the stems on the flowers, arranging them neatly. 

“Can I take a photo?” he asks when you’re done. 

He’s smiling when you turn around to look at him, a soft curve of his lips that makes your heart race, a deep tenderness in his eyes when you meet them. You smile too. 

“They’re yours, baby, do whatever you want.” 

“A photo of you with the flowers,” he clarifies. 

Warmth settles in your chest, a grin spreading over your lips from ear to ear. You nod, taking the decanter in your hands when he lets go of you, holding the flowers up beside your face and smiling for his camera. As his phone shutter clicks away, you steal glances at his face behind it. He’s watching the screen with a smile, telling you how beautiful you are.

“I want pictures of you too,” you say, handing the flowers over. 

“I’m yours, baby, do whatever you want.” 

Sunghoon poses for your photos, smiling sweetly in some and sniffing the bouquet appreciatively with closed eyes for others. He’s glowing and he’s beautiful and your heart triples in size while taking picture after picture until your phone tells you it has ten percent. 

“Thank you, YN,” he says. “I’ve never gotten flowers before, I love them.” His arms settle around your waist, lips pressing against yours before you have the chance to respond. 

You try anyway, mumbling against his lips that you love him. In response, Sunghoon grins, but the feeling of his cock growing hard against you is distracting, a lust-coated thorn in the side of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. With locked lips and uncertain steps, the two of you bump into corners and trip over your own feet, stumbling to his room and parting only to tear his hoodie over his head.

Breathless, you pull away, eyes trailing over him and picking up on everything, from the tremble in his hands to the lust-addled worry in his eyes. He’s nervous, you think—though it escapes you, the last word coming out like a question.

Sunghoon scoffs, his hands resting on your waist under your shirt, skin clammy against yours. “Of course, I’m nervous.” 

“You don’t have to be.”

“I just want to be good for you.” 

“Don’t worry about that, let me take care of you, Hoon.” Your palms drag up his torso — firm abs through soft cotton, defined chest over racing heart — to rest on his shoulders. “Sit,” you say when he nods. 

He gulps, taking a seat on the end of his bed under your gentle push, eyes widening when you sink to your knees between his legs and reach for his drawstring, pulling the ends to untie the knot. 

“Wait,” Sunghoon says, breathless, scrunching up his face and dropping his head. “Let me calm down, baby. At this rate, I’ll come just seeing your hand on it.” 

You giggle, resting your head on his thigh and wrapping the drawstring around your finger.

“I’m serious, YN,” he mumbles, laughing as he takes his vest off. “I need a minute.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes are pressed shut as he tries to collect himself, lips pouty and kiss-bitten, slightly parted with ragged breaths slipping out. You wait patiently for him. He’s so pretty like this, with the crease in his brow and the pretty pink flush dusting his cheeks as his chest rises and falls. You can’t help but smile, leaning into his touch when his hand rests on top of your head, his blunt nails grazing your scalp. After a while, he seems more at ease, his eyes finding yours and he smiles shyly, telling you he’s ready now and lifting his hips from the bed to let you pull his sweats and underwear down. 

Free from the constraints of fabric, his cock slaps his stomach with a wet sound as the tip meets his skin, leaving a pearlescent streak over his abs. The sight makes your mouth water and you can’t look away. “Pretty,” you whisper.

Wrapping a hand under his tip, you swipe it with your thumb, taking time to memorise the flutter of his eyelids, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, and the soft sigh he lets out. You stroke him slowly, liking the way his breath picks up as his brows knit together before you take him in your mouth. It’s a tight fit but you do your best, spurred on by the way he tugs at your hair and stutters through a holy fuck as you take as much of him as you can. 

Sunghoon goes silent, only squirming when you use your hand to stroke him near his base. Self-conscious about his lack of vocal affirmation, you look up at him through your lashes, and the pure bliss on his face is unbearably attractive. His eyes are rolled back under furrowed brows, his mouth hanging open as he throws his head back.

“Am I doing okay?” you ask, using the moment to catch your breath.

He nods, inhaling shakily and screwing his eyes shut while his hips buck up into your fist. “I’m.. You’re doing such a good job, baby, so good.”

Satisfaction courses through you from the praise, a high that dulls the ache in your jaw. Still watching him, you massage his balls in your palm, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his tip when he whines. You tongue at his slit until he thrusts back into your mouth, tip hitting your throat, and he gasps when you gag, his arm coming up to cover his eyes. A belated apology slips from his lips, mumbled as he strokes your hair with a shaking hand and goes quiet again. When you speed up, his breath stutters, the muscles in his thighs contracting around your head as you suck and lick and drool on his cock. 

A moan of your name, and his hand holding your hand down, are the only warnings you get before Sunghoon comes, spilling his load right down your throat. Whining, his hips buck up against your face, pushing further and further until he falls back onto the mattress.

Your throat is hoarse and aches while you use the back of your hand to wipe at your lips, enjoying what’s left of his taste on your tongue. Deep red tints his neck and chest, a pretty flush gleaming under the sheen of sweat on his skin. He’s mesmerising, as he tries for air through swollen lips and looks up at you through squinted eyes. He reaches for you, cute grabby hands tugging your shirt and pulling you down so you’re lying next to him with your head on his chest. 

“You’re amazing, baby, so good for me,” Sunghoon whispers, eyes fluttering shut as you drag your nails over his torso, feeling the subtle heave of the slick, sculpted muscle over his stomach and chest. 

Pride heats your chest, satisfaction rolling over you like a wave. “Really?”

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head. 

“You were so quiet, I couldn’t really tell,” you add, hungry for more praise. 

“The walls are so thin in here, I just got used to being quiet,” Sunghoon says, frowning. Hand meeting your chin, he tips your head up towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and mumbling, “I’m sorry. You were perfect, I swear.” 

It’s a sweet kiss. Until lips move harder and hands get lower, desperate as he thumbs the top of your leggings, palm unmoving but a dangerous heat blooms in your stomach anyway.

“Can I..” Sunghoon pinches you softly through the material, unsure eyes boring deep into yours. 

You nod. “You can.” 

Slipping under your waistband, his fingers skate across your skin dipping between your thighs. He grazes your slit, satisfaction clear in the groan he lets out as he feels the wetness there, pulling it over the length of your slit to cover your clit. Your breath hitches, a strangled gasp, pleasure and surprise meeting in your throat under the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the gentle sting of his finger pushing into you. 

What Sunghoon lacks in experience, he makes up for with the sheer length and thickness of his fingers. It’s almost jarring, it’s enough to force your eyes closed and bring a sigh rumbling out of you, ache and relief settling between your legs, where he curls a finger against your walls and drags slow circles over your clit. 

“Can you take these off, baby?” he asks, hand away to touch your leggings. 

You don’t waste a second, sitting up to pull them off, throwing them and your underwear across the room. Sunghoon licks his lips, tugging at the hem of your shirt. 

“And this? If you want..” 

You nod, pulling it off immediately to let it join the rest of your clothes in a heap on the floor. The way he gulps is a confidence boost, his dilated pupils taking in every inch of your body, though his gaze always pulls back to your bra—white and lacy, thin enough for your nipples to push through the fabric and Sunghoon can’t seem to get enough, though he waits until you’re lying down again to touch you. 

Sunghoon props himself up on his elbow, leaning over you. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, dragging a finger over the lace at the top of your bra, toying with the material and the little bow sitting between your breasts. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “So beautiful,” he repeats. 

Hiding your face in his chest, you mumble, “Thank you,” into his skin while trying to ignore the heat spreading over your body wherever he touches you. His hand trails from your arm to your waist, resting on your hips to slip over your ass for a beat, where he grabs and squeezes the flesh there before coming back around to slot between your legs—you lift one of them, resting it over his body, and he’s smiling sweetly when you look up at him.

Sunghoon’s movements are unchanging, though the sensation is heightened by the unbridled desire in his lidded eyes that urges white heat to lick over every inch of your skin—this time he pushes two fingers into you.

It doesn’t get better than this, you think. But it does, quickly. 

Leaning over you, his eyes flick across your face, one feature at a time as he chews on his lip. Reaching up, you push some of his hair from his face, holding it back and saying, “Relax, baby.” 

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

Moving your hand, you blink when his hair flops back over his forehead, tickling your eyelashes. His eyes are focused now, staring straight down into yours, want and worry flashing behind them. 

“You won’t, I promise,” you say, locking your pinky with his, feeling relieved when he smiles.

Sunghoon pushes in slowly, his name slipping from your lips when he exhales shakily, head falling forward. The sting, the pleasure, make it hard to breathe, molten desire taking hold of your lungs as he carves out a place for himself as far as you’ll take him, all the way to the hilt as slow as he can manage. 

A moan tears out of him, lewd and whiny as his hair tickles your collarbone, head falling into the crook of your neck. His skin is hot and damp against yours, his breath burning your shoulder as he tries to calm down. It’s difficult to register much else, tethered only by the sound of his voice when he asks, “Am I hurting you?” 

“Hoon,” you whisper. 

“Can you look at me, baby?” He lifts his head, resting a hand on your cheek. You blink your eyes open, gaze locking with his, where concern pushes through his desire. “Am I hurting you?” he asks again. “Are you okay?” 

You nod. “I’m okay, just..” You sigh. “Full. Need a minute.” 

Sunghoon kisses you, lips moving gently with yours, passing breathy whines between your mouths until you feel yourself relaxing. Pulling his plush bottom lip between yours, you suck on it, nodding. “Want you to move, baby,” you mumble. 

He scans your face, eyes meeting yours as he pulls his hips back. He’s slow, so slow with his thrusts that your belly turns with want, your fingernails sink into the taut skin of his back, and jagged sobs fall out of you with each drag of his cock along your walls. 

Everywhere his skin touches yours is set ablaze with scorching heat, goosebumps pushing past the surface as his breath fans your neck and his sharp teeth graze your skin. He bites hard enough to sting, and you wince as his tongue flicks over your bitten flesh to soothe you.

You were so worked up earlier, writhing against the sheets and coming undone in his palm, so bliss quickly pushes through the ache between your legs. “Good, Hoon, feels so good,” you manage, struggling to convey how perfect it is.

“Just want to make you feel good.” His words melt into each other, vowels soft and elongated as they curl around each other. He’s working up a steady rhythm, his tip consistently nudging you where you need it—the spot that makes the room blur around you. “That’s all I want.” 

Before long, the knot in your stomach pulls you up from the mattress, arching your back towards the ceiling. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest—it’s the closest you’ve ever felt to someone else, the closest you’ve ever been. The thought alone knocks the wind out of you, and his persistent whining does nothing to help.

Your want and adoration for Sunghoon run bone-deep, inching up your spine and creeping over your shoulders, intertwined with an all-consuming pleasure that turns the heat in your stomach molten as a shudder zips through you. Even though you can’t find the words to let him know, he lifts your hips from the bed to fuck you deeper, harder, into the mattress until shaky orgasms pull both of you under. 

You let him fall into you, fingers curling around his hair, whispering I love you into the skin of his neck as he comes, most of his weight on top of you while you catch your breath, relishing in the fullness you feel as the last waves of your high pull back. You stay like this for as long as he needs, his head coming up from the crook of your neck to smile at you before pressing his lips to yours. A sleepy haze fills the room around you, tongue swiping tongue as you giggle happily into his mouth. 

After a while, he gets up, tying the condom to throw it away and comes back with his shirt. He uses it to clean up—gentle between your legs, pressing kisses to your calves while he does. Sunghoon’s tenderness wraps around your heart, and love clouds your vision, forming a blurry trail that follows all of his movements, glowing like something from a dream, ethereal, an apparition. 

The bed dips beside you, his arms around you, pulling you in so his chin rests on your head. You push your cheek into his chest, hoping the two of you will meld into one—the thought makes you warm all over, a fuzziness that reaches every part of your body while he presses kisses into your hair, rubbing your back. 

“I love you,” he says, voice as soft as the rest of him. “I’m glad I exist.”

mama park: Hi lovely 😍 missing you lots, wondering when you’ll be home for Xmas………..love ma

Sunghoon stirs, nose scrunching as he snores softly into the quiet of a winter morning. His chest rises and falls steadily under your head and he doesn’t move when you sit up. The lamp on his desk is still on — neither of you could be bothered getting up to turn it off last night — and under its dim glow, you admire him. Perfect lips gently curved—long lashes kissing the skin under his eyes. 

Love hits you from all angles, warmth all over from head to toe despite the chill in Sunghoon’s room. You can’t help but grin, leaning up to nose along the underside of his chin, his natural scent so soft yet dizzying as you nuzzle into him. He stirs again, turning his head this way and that before resting, you feel a bit bad, deciding to leave him be and text his mum back. 

you: hi mum !!! missing you sooooooo much :((( will be home asap

mama park: BTW Sunghoon told me everything. I raised such good actors LOL make sure he looks after you and keeps you happy!

you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..

you: but i’m really happy with him and he loves me a lot

you: i love him so much .. never been so sure of anyone in my life

© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !

permanent taglist: @asahicore

[entitled-fangirl]

May I?

Cregan Stark x pregnant!reader

Summary: the Lord of Winterfell had grown too protective- but for fair reason.

Warnings: cursing, talks of labor problems, Cregan freaking the freak out

A/n: based on an ask!

Masterlist

..........................................................

Cregan couldn't help from letting a large smile crawl up his face.

His pretty wife, now a few months pregnant, walked into the court. 

One of her slender hands rested on her swollen stomach.

The people turned to see what had caused the door to open so swiftly, and when seeing it was their Lady of Winterfell, they relaxed. 

She rounded the table, coming to Cregan. 

He had stood the minute he had seen her figure nearing, and now he was able to wrap his arms around her frame and bury his face into her hair, "Everything alright, pretty?"

She nodded and relaxed against him, "Tired of just staring at the walls."

He frowned and pulled away, "So you've decided to join me in court instead?"

"If you don't mind it."

He chuckled and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, "I don't mind it at all. Sit."

…

But now the weeks were beginning to rack up, and Cregan swore he could see her stomach grow more each day.

And along with it was his rising protective instinct.

She couldn't seem to even leave the walls of Winterfell without him looming over her. 

Not that she minded. 

…

He dropped his sword in the middle of his sparring session when he saw her enter the courtyard. 

Even in the cloudy air of the North, she glows. 

She walked slowly, on no mission to get anywhere, and her eyes wandering from place to place. 

Admiring.

He abandoned his sword and partner quickly, walking to her with broad steps. "What are you doing?"

She turned to him as if just realizing he was there. "Oh. Just… on a walk."

"A walk?" He asked with furrowed brows. 

"Yes, I take one every day. It's usually earlier but I lost track of time."

He nodded, looking back to the doors she had come from.

Guarding it was a guard who stared back at them. 

It irked Cregan. 

"I see." He finally said. 

"You've abandoned your training," She pointed out.

"I can hardly find myself caring," he said. "I would hardly be able to do anything with you in my line of sight."

She smiled brightly and he felt his heart shudder at the sight. 

He would do anything to keep a smile on her. 

His mind begin to race at the idea of anything bringing her displeasure. Pain, even. 

Gods, she shouldn't be out here like this. 

"Go back inside," he said as he bit the inside of his cheek.

She hummed lightly, not catching his harsh tone, "I haven't even gotten to speak to-"

"-Go inside, my love." He leaned forward, placing a sweaty kiss to the crown of her head and a hand moving down to rest on her swollen womb. "I will collect you for supper."

"Oh." He tried not to let his heart fall at the sound of her disappointment. "Alright. Supper then." She took his hand from her stomach and kissed his dirt covered knuckles, "Do train hard for me."

He smiled, "You've no idea."

He didn't move until he saw her figure disappear behind the doors.

And the stupid fucking guard that had watched her the entire time. 

"You!" He pointed his sword out to point at him, "C'mere."

The guard's brows raised, but he complied, moving toward Cregan, "Yes, my lord?"

"Draw your sword."

The man paused, "m… my lord?"

"Your sword!" Cregan said with a raised voice.

Cregan tried to tell himself he was doing this for the practice, not for the satisfaction of besting the man who dared look at his wife.

Their swords clashed loudly in the yard, but the man was no match for the Warden of the North. 

He was quickly being outmaneuvered by the Lord who was beginning to release his anger.

His sword was thrown from his hand, and Cregan's foot came up, pushing him to the ground. 

There, Cregan stood over him with his sword to the man's throat. 

Cregan quite enjoyed the view. 

He got down on his knees and leaned down to the man's ear, "Look at my wife like that again, and I'll cut your fucking eyes out."

If the man responded, Cregan didn't notice as he put away his sword and retreated into the walls of Winterfell.

…

The grand maester approached Cregan as he walked down the halls, "My lord. I need to speak with you. About Lady Stark."

He paused in his step and turned himself, "Is she alright?"

"Oh, yes. The check up went well earlier. She is progressing wonderfully. There are just a few things we must clear up, you and I, before she has the child."

"Alright. Name it."

"Not here, my lord. It is… sensitive."

Cregan huffed and walked with him to the maester's quarters, shutting the door behind him. His anxiety began to eat at him.

"Now, I do not believe it will come to it, of course, but the main question is about certain… complications that may show themselves during labor."

"Just ask the question," Cregan growled.

"Right," the maester nervously fidgeted with his hands. "If a problem occurred and we were… unable to… save both…"

Cregan felt his gut roll. He had not considered such a thing. 

"…my lord?"

Cregan's head shot up, "I'm sorry?"

"I asked which would you prefer to… take priority."

An impossible question to ask a husband and father. 

A more impossible question to ask the Warden of the North. 

He needed an heir. The people quite literally demand for one. Someone to carry the bloodline. He wanted a child with her more than anything.

But He needed her. He needed her like air to breathe. In a place like the north where the sun never shined, she made up for it, lighting every room she stepped into. 

A world without either of them was not something he even wanted to think of. 

He had welcomed this new change of the child the second she had told him. 

To think, something could so easily take her from him. 

And he would be helpless to it.

He felt bile rise in his throat.

…

"You're to take Dark Shadow with you when you leave Winterfell from now on."

She paused mid-bite over her plate, "W… Why?"

"I…" he dropped his fork with a loud clatter as he leaned back in his chair in frustration. "You're to do it."

"I love him, but I don't want a dire wolf with me. Scares the others away-"

"-Even better!"

"That is my reason for leaving the walls. To speak to the people."

Cregan grunted, "Not right now."

"Nothing will happen to me out there, Cregan-"

"-Yes, I will make sure of that."

She stopped herself and took a long and deep breath, "I do not understand. Why?"

"Because I commanded it!"

Silence filled the dining hall as the two stared at one another. 

Her small voice broke it, "You have such little faith in me that I cannot grow our child?"

"What?" His voice softened. "Wh- No. No. I did not say that."

"You did!" She stood from the table, "You do, Cregan! You do not believe I can do this for us. For you." Hot tears began to flood her eyes, "So concerned with an heir, you do not even trust in your wife!"

His form didn't move until she was far from the dining hall.

…

Three days since their argument, and Cregan was beginning to feel the dread consuming him. 

Prince Jacaeys Velaryon had arrived yesterday, giving Cregan a much needed distraction from it all.

He opened his eyes, looking over to her form in bed as he always did.

But she wasn't there.

He sat up quickly, noting that the sheets were cold as well, meaning she had been gone a while.

Since the pregnancy, she had never awaken before him. 

He let out a grunt and quickly dressed himself.

Cregan practically ran down the halls until he found one of her servants, "Where is my wife?"

Her eyes widen, "Out, my lord."

His jaw clenched and his voice lowered, "Out where?"

"W… With the prince, my lord."

He shifted his weight to his other foot and leaned his head down to her. He felt bad, but he couldn't help the harsh gaze he studied her with, "To where, exactly?"

"She… she made me swear not to tell you, my lord."

Cregan felt as if he could rip her arms off, "You'll tell me anyway."

"I am loyal to her, my lord."

He wanted to be enraged at that, he really did. But he admired that about the servant. He let out a sigh and let his voice return to its usual timbre, "Point me in a direction then?"

She nodded, "Perhaps meeting a… pet… or sorts?"

No. 

No. No. No. No.

He immediately moved his feet, running at a fast pace down the hall.

No. No. No.

He barely registered voices or concerned glances as he ran to where he knew she'd be. 

…

Jace smiled as he ran a hand over Vermax's scales near his nose. "Dare to try?" He asked over his shoulder. 

The very pregnant Lady of Winterfell bit her lip with a smile, "You really think he'll let me?"

Jace turned to her completely now, "Vermax trusts me. And I trust you. Therefore, I don't see why he'd refuse."

It was Jace's idea, to introduce her to Vermax. She seemed fascinated with the dragon when he arrived. 

That, and obtaining the favor of the wife of the Warden you hope will supply your mother with an army wouldn't be a terrible thing, either. 

She stepped forward, one hand out in front of her and the other over her stomach. 

Jace muttered calming words of Valyrian to the dragon as she did so.

Her fingers were inches from the great dragon's hide when a voice rang out, "Do. Not."

Cregan stood a few yards back, panting harshly.

Vermax's head immediately moved to want to see the source of the sound, and she had to quickly back up to avoid being knocked over by the beast's large head. 

Jace's hand shot out and steadied her as he looked to Cregan, "Careful with your words, my lord."

Cregan couldn't describe it all. 

Horrified. Nervous. Protective. In awe. 

Staring at the girl, seeing his entire future in front of him. 

"Please," he whispered out as his gaze softened. "Please be careful."

Jace noted the man's softened brow, "She's safe, my lord. Vermax is young, but quite full of love."

She stared at Cregan still, her head tilted, "May I still…?" 

She let the question hang in the air.

He couldn't let anything happen to her.

He wanted to refuse. Drag her back to the walls and lock her away. Shake her until she saw reason. 

But he had been denying her everything. And doing so again could be just as dangerous to her as petting a dragon. 

He nodded just barely, not trusting his voice again. 

Her eyes lit up and her voice was soft, "Thank you."

She turned to the beast again, and her hand reached out as before, her other on her stomach. 

Cregan noted the hand on her stomach, a protective gesture over the life that she carried in her. 

Each slow step was like a dagger being twisted in his chest. 

Her hand reached the scales, smoothing over them.

And the dragon lets out a low purr.

A bright smile comes to her face and she looks back to Cregan. 

His arms are out, as if ready to catch her and shield her from dragon fire. 

He can't even enjoy the moment through his pure adrenaline. 

Jace smiles as well, "I do believe Vermax likes you."

Cregan finally spoke softly, "Who could not?"

…

The door to their chambers shut and Cregan turned from them to her, "I hate to be angry with you. Let us be done with it entirely."

"That easily?" She asked as she pulled at her dress. 

"I do not doubt your ability to carry our child. You do it so… beautifully." He rubs a hand over his face, "I am a proper fool for ever making you believe differently."

"No. I understand your concern for me, love. I should have respected your wishes."

He crossed the room and grabbed her hands, "No. I…" he paused in thought. "It's not about having heirs, pretty. I care for our child. I do," he leans his head down to catch her gaze, "But I care for your wellbeing all the more."

She couldn't stop the small smile that pulled at her lips, "Perhaps we may compromise."

He grinned, "A compromise?" He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. 

"You missed."

He leaned back, "Oh?" He raised a brow, "Did I?"

She grabbed his chin, pulling him down to her, "You did."

Their lips connected, gently but firm. 

"Foolish man," she spoke against his lips.

He chuckled, "Pretty girl."

...............................................................

[shoyudon]

𝐈'𝐌 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 .ᐟ

them trying to make it up to you after forgetting your date.

starring. gojo, sukuna, toji x fem! reader

heads up. cursing, not everyone has a happy ending :D

tags. @dreamsarenicer @deftearzi @ninikrumbs @litlebruh

note. this is a continuation from "DOESN'T MATTER, I LEFT!" make sure to check it out to make sense of everything!

──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

gojo is far from miserable — if there was a word to describe a state worse than miserable, that is what gojo is feeling right now. he didn't know what to do besides the countless messages and calls he's sent out to you.

he's tried knocking on your apartment door for days, but to no avail, you refused to see him. telling him to go back home and to leave you alone. hell, gojo's even took a few days off from work, spending his day off trying to get you to talk to him face-to-face about everything.

"y/n," gojo knocks on your door, his head leaning onto the hard wooden surface — even without looking, you could tell how tired he is. the stress from work, from his relationship, everything; just falling apart, "i know you're in there, i can hear the tv show running."

you scoffed, leaning back onto the couch. gojo sighs out, banging his head gently onto the door, grunting out, "can we please talk about this . . ? you can't shut me out forever," he spoke.

and before he knew it, the door swung open, there you were; standing right in front of him. if looks could kill, the strongest would be six feet under, "stop coming over, you're not welcomed here, satoru. we don't need to talk about anything, i made it clear that you weren't ready for a relation—"

"you won't even listen to what i have to say about it?" gojo cuts you off, his brows furrowed; the creases between his brows deepening.

"no, i won't. i don't have to, you're not ready and you know it," you tell him, hand on the door and a hand on the doorway, looking at him calmly, "listen, go home. stop coming over, and stop trying to text me from different numbers."

"i am ready. i'm sorry for leaving you there, please let me make it up to you— i can't do this y/n. i'm really sorry, i fucked up. i just—" he looks at you desperately, his cerulean blue eyes doing all the conversation. gojo's never felt so weak before until now.

"can we please just talk about this . . ? i'll make it up to you, i promise — i just . . . right now i'm — can i just —" he rambles on in panic, his fatigue catching up to him, arms flailing around.

furrowing your brows, you eyed him, "what are you— satoru, calm down."

he inhaled sharply, "i just . . . i know i've been so caught up in work. please let me make it up to you, i took a few days off, please? can we talk about this? i don't want to break up with you, you're all i have . . ." gojo choked out, inhaling sharply at the end of his sentence.

"satoru, i don't know, okay? you're busy — yes. saving the world, saving people, saving everyone. i love you, i really do—"

"why are you breaking up with me then . . ?" gojo whispers out softly, brows furrowed, his pupils looking everywhere in panic and discomfort, "why are you breaking up with me if you love me? i'll do better, i promise."

"just — do better. 'm not going to accept you right now, show me you can do better and we'll see." well, that was better than a straight up no, gojo nodded his head vigorously.

"okay, okay. that's good, i promise. i'll be better, i'll be better," he whispers, unconsciously clutching onto your hands.

──────〃★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

teaching sukuna to operate a phone might be one of the most regretful thing you did. waking up to more than forty missed calls and thirty voice mails wasn't the most exciting things in the world — especially with his voicemails being cursing contents because h didn't know if his previous voice mails went through or not.

"why is it that mortals use this rectangle— did my voice go through?" was almost in everything, a few voicemails containing questions like asking to meet up face to face to communicate about everything that had been going on; much to his disdain.

one to which you finally replied to after two days. figuring it was going to be better if you made it clear to him that you no longer wanted anything to do with him.

sitting on a coffee shop, you stared at him, "i'll say this one time, stop contacting me, i have nothing else i want to do with you in the future. so refrain from sending me more voicemails or missed calls," sukuna scoffs, looking into your eyes.

"you're leaving over three hours?" he snarkily commented, more aggressive than he wanted it to come out or intended, "did i not say that i would book another place? i was caught up in another matter."

if you could just pass out out of disbelief right now, you would. it was honestly a shame that sukuna had to make matters worst with his comments, "are you — look, i've listened enough. and i want nothing else to do with you right now, nor do i want anything to do with you in the future. so please, i am ending things between us right now. i deserve better than this, and you know it."

sukuna clenched his jaw, clearly furious with how everything is turning out to be. i mean; being the king of curses, he expects everything to go his way. and currently, it wasn't.

"take that back, you are not 'breaking up' with me," he mutters out in annoyance.

"sukuna, yes, i am breaking up with you." he narrowed his eyes when you called him 'sukuna' instead of 'ryo' like you always do. sukuna never liked it when people addressed him by 'ryo', but with you — he had grown so accustomed that it felt odd hearing the word 'sukuna' escape your throat.

"don't address me as such."

"it is your name, no?" he clenched his fists in annoyance, "i've said what i need to say. stop calling me and stop sending me useless voicemails, i won't change my mind. and i won't indulge in this relationship anymore. you think three hours is a short time? i made myself a fool in front of the whole place."

"did i not tell you that i had matters to attend to? you're being a bit childish, no?"

"if breaking up with you over disrespect is childish, consider me childish then," you told him and stood up, "goodbye."

──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

"i know you're in there, open the door," toji banged on your door just an hour after you ended both your relationship and the call, "woman, open this door before i break it in."

he sighs out loudly, looking around — he felt like a burglar, standing on your porch menacingly. toji knocks again, "so that's it? you're just going to throw away everything? not talk to me about it? i never agreed to breakin' up with you."

he stares at the door as it swung open just before his eyes, his eyes falling on your figure, "so, you're finally ready to talk about this?" he scoffs, crossing his arms, "listen, i forgot, i fucked up and y' definitely aren't happy."

"ha ha. no shit, toji. you waste my time and my efforts, all you can say is that you fucked up and that you'll make it up to me?" you tell him calmly, leaning on your door, "you think that's enough for the constant disappointment you made me feel? you fucked up? you'll make it up to me? you didn't even say sorry."

toji furrowed his brows, inhaling sharply, "what do you want me to do?"

"what do i want you to do is leave me alone, and let me break up with you, because i'm so tired of you constantly telling me you fucked up instead of you're sorry. which is a big difference and i'm actually making a big deal out of it. i don't deserve this, you know?"

he shakes his head, "no, don't do that breakin' up fuckery with me. i'll do anythin' to make it up to you."

"make it up to me by letting me break up with you, that's all i want. you're not ready for a serious and committed relationship, and i'm not going to be the scapegoat for your constant mishaps. i'm tired of having to lie to myself that you're trying your best to be a good boyfriend when you make mistakes like this over and over again. it's ridiculous, toji."

toji blinked his eyes, looking at you, "no. it's a mistake, i fuckin' promise you. it just went over me — i knew i was missing something, and i thought —"

"toji. i've talked to you about this same mistake countless of times, and it went over your head again? and again? 'm tired, okay. can you just leave me alone, we had what we had, we had our time, and well, nothing lasts forever. do better next time with someone else," you tell him, getting ready to shut the door.

but of course, he wasn't really going to take this closure from you, slipping in his foot to stop the door from completely shutting, "move your foot, toji," you sigh out.

"you can't just sum it up like this, i don't wanna break up," he sighs out, "i know i fucked up, again. can't you give me another chance or somethin'? i'll make it up to you."

"i gave you more chances than i should've. bye, toji," you pushed his foot away and shut the door, ending the conversation.

© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !

[tojisun]

im going feral at the idea of biker!simon visiting you at work to bring you a little care package when you sent him a quick message, saying how tired you are :(

"hey, sunshine?" rosie asks as she stops by your desk. "someone's here askin' for you."

you would've jolted in panic at the unexpected summoning but rosie is cheekily grinning at you, her dimpled smile making her look a whole lot brighter, her exhaustion for the day easing off just a bit.

it makes you smile back.

"oh?" you say, standing up from your desk and following her towards the breakroom. "is it my prince charming?"

"i'd love to think so." you didn't expect the familiar drawl of simon's voice and you startle, whipping to face him, your eyes wide in surprise as a gasp punches itself from your lungs.

rosie slips from your mind altogether.

"hey, baby," simon greets when you remained unmoving, too stunned to know how to act. rosie giggles from behind you before hearing the familiar patter of her feet as she leaves, giving the two of you space.

"why're you here?" you finally get to respond, holding onto your excitement as you rove your eyes over your lover, cataloguing the box held in one of his hands and his helmet in the other. he must've driven here directly from the shop.

"you said you weren't feeling too good so i'm here to drop off some goodies." he shrugs as he closes the distance between the two of you before presenting you the box. you take it with trembling hands. "it ain't much but i hope it's enough to last you 'till later in the afternoon, and i promise: we'll do all that you want, yeah?"

he reaches forward to brush your hair away from your face, huffing a fond smile when he catches the way you sniffle. you're still not used to being spoiled and simon adores your shy reactions – eyes ducking away to hide from his, your teeth trapping your bottom lip to nibble on. he hopes one day you will shake away the shyness and start demanding from him. start being confident in what it is that you want.

(you can even ask simon for the stars and he won't find it unreasonable; he will claw his way into the heavens and pluck them out for you. sometimes it terrifies him how you make him feel a love so strong, it triumphs over anything and everything. but often times, simon basks in it. basks in the way his love for you overflows until it creates a crashing tide, ready to sweep him away.)

"thank you," you whisper as you slot yourself in his arms, hiding your face on his chest, breathing in the leather. you sigh wistfully when you feel him pat your head, reassuring. caring. loving.

simon kisses the top of your head. "it's no problem at all, love." he smiles down at you when you pull back just enough to stand on your tiptoes and peck him on his lips. "i'll see you later, yeah?"

you nod, falling back into his arms.

("jesus, sunshine. that is one big boy," rosie says as the two of you watch simon walk out of the office, his unmistakable bulk stark against all the exhausted office workers ambling about.

you giggle. "yeah. my big boy.")

[pepsiboyy]

need a chris sleepy fic!!!

SLEEPY SMILE.

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: where reader is doing homework late at night and chris drags her to rest, featuring morning after as well :D warnings: use of y/n, tooth rotting flufff omggg a/n: i will NEVER get off the cuddly chris grind. he's such a lovebug i just freaking know it.

2:34am.

a deep sigh left your lips as you smacked a hand against your forehead, resting your elbows against the desk in your shared bedroom with your boyfriend.

you had been nonstop at your homework since about 10pm.

it wasn't completely unbearable, as chris was beside you for the first half playing fortnite with his brothers. but after a while, he went to get a snack and claimed he was tired.

you hummed as a pair of arms wrapped around your neck and shoulders from behind, causing you to lift your head and smile at your boyfriend.

chris's hair was disheveled, his eyes were lidded, and his nose pressed into the crook of your neck. his stubble tickled your skin, causing a soft smile to break out onto your face.

"hi, chris," you mumbled, moving your own hands so that one could card through his messy curls.

"when're ya layin' down," chris mumbled against your skin, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath of your scent.

you smiled warmly, turning your head to press a gentle kiss to his temple. "soon, my love. you can go lay down if you want? i promise i will be there soon."

chris shook his head, causing you to crack another smile at the feeling of his hair shaking against you as he did so. "i'll wait, do you want a drink or something?" he questioned as he pulled away from his embrace, causing you to cringe at the loss of warmth he provided.

"i'm okay. i promise, i'm almost done with this." you mumbled, smiling warmly at him as you reached up to set a hand on the back of his neck. you pulled him down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips before letting him go and now focusing on your paper for just a few more minutes.

chris let out a soft huff before turning to the bed behind you both and laying down on his back. he ran a hand through his own hair and pulled out his phone, scrolling mindlessly.

you knew chris wouldn't sleep without you beside him, as he tended to have issues falling asleep alone. so you quickly saved your assignment before shutting your laptop and making your way over to the bed and laying down beside chris.

chris's entire expression seemed to light up as he noticed you approach him. his arms came around your waist loosely as his face buried into the crook of your neck.

with his hair tickling your face, you couldn't help but let out a soft giggle.

"close your eyes, i'm here." you mumbled, and chris did just that.

a soft hum escaped his throat upon feeling your fingers run through his hair, nails gently grazing his scalp.

and with that, you both fell asleep.

with the next morning rolling around, your eyes opened to the sound of your alarm.

you carefully sat up and stretched your arms, your eyes hooded with sleep.

you blinked a few times upon feeling chris's arms wrap around your waist, a sleepy hum leaving him.

you reached down to gently card your hand through his hair.

"morning, sleepyhead."

chris groaned in response, his head lifting to shoot you a sleepy gaze. "where're ya goin'?"

"i have homework i gotta do," you responded.

chris gave you a dirty glare, making you chuckle. you ruffled his hair and gently moved him.

"come on, chris, the earlier i start, the sooner i can be with you."

chris let out a loud, overly dramatic groan before rolling off of you and facing his back toward you in a pout.

you stood to your feet and slipped on some slippers before coming around to chris on the other side of the bed.

you ran a gentle hand along the side of his face, down to his jaw, his shoulder and down his arm to his hip.

"i love you, chris. get some more sleep, okay?"

chris cracked open his eyes and shot you a sleepy smile, nodding. "'kay, fine." he mumbled, pulling the blanket over himself a bit more.

you gently leaned down to kiss his forehead softly and caress his cheek before going back to your seat at the desk, cracking open your laptop once more.

[hoshigray]

I told you I was going to do it and here I am lmao. Any who reader and Toji are bumming on the couch watching a movie within the movie there is a spicy scene involving 69 that is mediocre. It gives reader an idea to make a bet with Toji to see who can last the longest. Toji isn't budging at first but when the reader mentions that they want to do in the same position within the movie (something they never did before) he gladly accepts the challenge. I'll leave the plot and ending up to you love. I know you will work your magic for him.

69 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 .ᐟ | toji fushiguro

hehehe ty jazz, i'll do my best for youuu ☆☆☆

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - masturbation (m! receiving) - 69 position - oral (f! + m! receiving) - impact play (spanking + f! receiving) - overstimulation - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - pet names (baby, doll, mama, pretty thing) - mention of saliva/spit. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k

“Wow….this movie kinda sucks.”

“Mhm…Aye, y’re the one who wanted to watch this shit.” 

“Well, I mean, at least it’s…semi-enjoyable.”

Toji and you were sitting on the couch, winding down in the living room after a nourishing dinner. One of the many things you liked to do with your man was to watch movies, figuring that would be a perfect thing to do during the downtime to chill and huddle with your man. What you didn’t expect, however, was how underwhelming the movie seemed. 

It was one of those rated R movies batted around within the year, figuring now would be an ideal time to get to it. Welp, it was entertaining enough for you two to continue watching. Now, being midway through, it’s getting a little frustrating to deal with. 

“Oh, okay…” annnnnd now the film has transitioned to an abrupt sex scene….how great. “I guess this is why it’s rated R.”

The sex scene you two were watching was…average at best. You’ve seen way spicier scenes in your life — hell, literal cringey porn you’ve watched with your friends was heavily more explicit than this. There was the rushed kissing, the frantic clothes coming off, no amount of foreplay whatsoever — just heading right into it, exaggerated cries coming from the woman as the guy frantically humps her nude frame.

You observe the scene through a neutral gaze as you lay against Toji’s side, his arm stretched to your shoulder to keep you close. But then, your head tilts when something on the screen catches your attention. 

The camera pans to the guy’s face, who’s lying on the bed as the other straddles them, facing his lower half. For a few seconds, you can only see the guy’s face until the camera follows him going closer to the girl’s ass that’s hovered before him. His tongue sticks out before he propels his mouth to her bottom, and her muffled moans can be heard off-screen with his grunts. 

Loud, amateur sounds aside, the position sparked something for you to turn and ask the following to your boyfriend: “Hey, Toji?” He hums, feeling the vibration of his voice from your hand on his chest. “Have you ever done that position?”

You can see his eyebrows trench down — not bewildered by your question, but pondering how he could answer truthfully. “Mmm…I think so? Been a long while, though.”

You nod aimlessly with your eyes glued to the screen, hearing the woman’s whimpers get a bit louder as the guy grasps her ass while “eating her out.” The thought of being on top of Toji and his mouth and hands on your body like that, you had to bite the inside of your cheek to remind yourself not to get too—

“Why you ask; ya horny?” Well, you can’t be too modest around this man, huh. You finally turn to look at him, prepared for the smirk he greets you with. A smile is all you reply with. “Sorry, baby, I don’t know about tonight. Kinda tired.” 

For a few seconds, you’re on his side. You understand he’s a little fatigued from work today and only wants to chill with his partner. However, a tiny part of you – the devilish cutie side – takes over and slides your hand from his chest. Down to his hard abs covered by his black wife beater, stopping at his clothed inner thigh, resulting in him hitching his breath. 

“Tired?” You say in a soft tune, your eyes peering down to your hand as it rubs on his thigh, inching further and further in. You take note of Toji’s fingers tapping on your shoulder – a silent warning. “Are you sure about that?” 

“You better move that hand, Y/n.” His body jolts when your hand creeps up to his groin, motioning around it with provocative kneads. 

“Hmm, why?” You play coy, placing kisses on the underside of his chin. “You tired of me?” 

He throws his head back at your soft lips, attacking his neck while your hand comes to the hem of his sweatpants. A shaky breath is released at the contact of your cold fingers on his warm erection. “Hmmm…could never be tired of you….Ahhh,“ your forefinger swipes around the glans.

“Then what are you so scared of?” You keep pressing on, sucking on his skin under your lips. His length gets firmer under your grasp, veins grazed by your fingertips. “Scared you wouldn’t last longer than me?”

“Ohh, don’t play with me, Y/n,” Toji grunts, the hand on your shoulder grips your cardigan. His erect cock throbs on your palm, and precum begins to leak out from you, playing with the tip. “–Mmmph…I already told you I wasn’t feelin’ it tonight.”

Liar, you say to yourself, noting him breathing slowly while you massage his balls. “Please, Toji?” You ask sweetly to his ear, his hand coming down to your waist as you stroke him off. “I never done that position before, but it looks real fun…I wanna do it with you.” 

Toji doesn’t give in easily, looking at you with a raised brow. So you throw in another please with an innocent pout and two bats of the eyes to seal the deal. He chortles; how can he say no to you looking at him like that? “Bet I can make you lose within the first few minutes.” 

You beam at him, “Bet I can make you cum first.”

“Y’re not gonna last for very long, princess, I can promise you that.”

A smirk pulls your cheeks. “Let’s try it out then.”

And just like that, with a mutual agreement, the challenge was put to the test. 

So here you are, straddling on top of Toji on the living room couch, both your bottoms and his sweats on the cold floor. Your bare ass out in front of him to see as he lies with his head on the couch pillow. Your front facing his legs, and his dick erected for you to lick and suck on. 

It started slow in the beginning; Toji massages your asscheeks as you lick around the glans and stroke his girth. “Mmmm, just like that, mama,” he praises, egging you on to take in more of him. Your mouth bobbing up and down his shaft, gradually taking in inch by inch until your mouth reaches the hilt. “Fuuck, feels so good…”

You aren’t forgotten either, Toji starting with slow licks, his tongue lapping your labia. You mewl on his cock, voluntarily moving your hips to satiate the throbs of your cunt. Shit, you love it when he eats you out, but this position makes you turn on even more — unable to see what he’s doing, letting his hands and tongue speak for himself. 

And you have to give it to yourself; you mangled to survive for a little while! The first minute was just him warming you up, teasing your folds with swishes to get you real wet as you blow him, his fingers groping your ass as his thumb plays around your ass taint. It all had you riled up, rocking your lower half so much that the man had to station you still for him to feast on your wetness properly. 

It wasn’t until you felt his tongue brush up on your clitoris did shit get serious. One sharp, muffled gasp paired with a jolt from your body. Of course, Toji noticed, his grin coming from ear to ear. “Oh, did I do that?” Yes, you did, you bastard. “Heh, you are not ready for this, baby…”

He says this before stuffing his mouth back into your leaky chasm so his tongue could swirl around your slit with vigor so rough that you nearly choked on your gasp for air. “—Oohh!! W–Wait, Toji, not so—Ahhn!” Fast licks have you squirm, prompting your man to keep you on him with his hands on your waist. It’s hard to concentrate giving Toji a blowjob with him nibbling on your labia before throwing more laps on your clitoris. 

“Wait, Toji, s-stoop; I’m gonna—Nnaaah!” Your fingers clamp around his girth, howling as he bullies his tongue to enter your vagina, his face buried nose-deep in your ass while sucking on your genitals. “Fuuck, oh shit, I can’t…Ohh, ohhh!!”

And just like that, you release into his mouth before you could even prepare yourself. Your trembling figure jolts with every shock coursing through your body. And Toji drinks your essence with every passing wave, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you straddled above him. 

Oh fuck, the clarity you experience is mind-blowing every time he eats you out — whimpers escape pretty lips as your sensitive nerves still receive gingerly laps on your soapy folds. That felt way too good, oh my God…

But it doesn’t stop there — no, no. Not with Toji, too pleased with how he made your legs tremble before him. He snickers while spreading your folds, “Pretty thing, look at you winking at me...Nnmm, so fuckin’ good…”

He brings his mouth back to your cunt, and you jerk from the contact as your body is still not rid of the shocks from the previous orgasm. You frantically call for him, trying to writhe your ass away from him. “Ohhnn, Toji, wait, let me rest for a—Ahhhnn!!“

A sharp pain comes from an abrupt smack to your buttcheek, the skin stinging from the impact of Toji’s hand. “Aht, aht, don’t try and run now. You talked big earlier, even when I warned you.” He smacks your ass again, his fingers digging deep into your flesh to pinch. You scream for him — that’s what he wants. “Now you’re gonna sit right here and let the winner have his fill.” 

You can’t argue with him from there; Toji’s hold on you not giving in to your attempts of mercy — same for his mouth on your delicate labia. The noises coming from there are so raunchy, downright erotic, way more than whatever the hell that movie was doing. You could only wail out your cries, eyes spiraling up to your head from every lap to your clit. No point fighting the pleasure, resting your head on his thigh.

But that was short-lived because Toji was quick to correct you with another slap to your butt. Shit came out of nowhere, almost choking on your spit. “C’mon now, doll, you can’t leave me hangin’ here. Suck me off, princess.” He rubs the pain on your butt away, yet you know he’d do it again if you weren’t compliant.

You bring his fat cock back to your face, licking on the tip while stroking him. You take in the head and suck him in, bobbing your head and coating his length with your saliva. Kisses to his glans result in him burrowing his face into your ass again, hungry lips ravishing your tender insides. Jesus, the way his tongue flicks on your clit has you humming on his cock nonstop.

Oh, God, oh fuuuuck, you remove your lips from Toji’s dick, yet your hand keeps gliding up and down. “—Mwah! Hoohhh, oohhh, Tojiiii…! Again, I’m gonna cum, again….Khaa—Ohhhhh!!”

The second orgasm hits you hard, more keenly than the last, and your body quivers on top of Toji once again. Whines come from wet lips as you descend into your haze, and your toes curl as Toji doesn’t withdraw himself until he’s satiated his thirst with every remnant of your fluids. 

With every jolt and shock flowing down your frame, you use this time to let your body ride this high out, placing chaste kisses on Toji’s cock. That is until you feel Toji suck on your folds suddenly. You jump and quake, turning around to beg. “Stooohp; let me rest, please!”

He gives you a smug look with a playful smack to your hot, stinging butt. “Done being curious now, mama?”

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are wholeheartedly appreciated ☆ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[cow-smells]

Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader

Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D

The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25

Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)

Read on AO3

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.

Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.

When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.

You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.

The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.

The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.

The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.

The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.

You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.

You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.

So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.

You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”

You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”

You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.

The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.

You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.

The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.

The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.

In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.

"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.

"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"

It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"

Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."

Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."

You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."

You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"

You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.

The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"

Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.

The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."

Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."

On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.

From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."

Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.

"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."

And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.

[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men doing the bicep trend. Their s/o will tie a pink string on their bicep and once they flex it’ll break off!!!

Doing the ribbon around biceps trend with JJK men

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Nanami x wife!reader; Toji x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: Tying a ribbon around your boo's biceps and watching how they flex it off? Hell yeah.

Notes: not proofread, Sukuna's part is a little short because I wanted to get this out today, I'll have my knee surgery tomorrow so sorry for ignoring your comments and messages, I'll get back to you when life gets a little easier lol, totally love and appreciate your interactions, I hope you have fun with this!

Gojo Satoru

„Come here babe, I need to show ya something real quick.”

You can’t help but yawn, annoyance dripping from every pore. Oh, your boyfriend is definitely too fit for the fact that it’s still dark outside. What time is it? If he woke you over a strange video he saw on TikTok again…

“Can’t this wait like…4 hours longer?”, you try to resist his urgent wish, shielding your tired eyes from the harsh light of the lamp above.

“I might forget until then. Hey, do you have like a band or something lying around in the bathroom?”

A…band? Your eyes dart towards him, nothing but sheer excitement written on his face. What on earth is Satoru up to now?

“My pink dress has a satin band around the waist I guess”, you mutter.

Maybe this is all he wants. Yes, he just grabs the satin band and goes straight back to sleep-

“Thank you babe!”, he shouts over his shoulder while opening your wardrobe with so much enthusiasm that the door almost falls out of it.

You flinch, rubbing your temple in a desperate attempt to keep yourself together. You love your boyfriend with all your heart, appreciate this childish side of him more than anyone else. But not when you have an important mission tomorrow and had maybe 2 hours of sleep…

“This better be something important, Satoru”, you mumble through your fingers, a sigh escaping your lips.

“Okay babe, ready to see something really big?”

“I swear if you slap your d-“

“Look at me!”

His insisting tone forces you to remove your hand from your face. There he stands, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers paired with a tight black shirt.

And a pink ribbon wrapped around his biceps tightly.

“Now watch.”

With one flex of his veiny biceps, the ribbon opens itself, your pink satin band falling to the floor while he looks at you expectant.

“I have one question”, you begin, eyes still resting on his delicious arm.

“Go ahead babe.”

“How on earth did you tie that ribbon yourself?”

He opens his mouth, nothing but pure outrage written on his face.

“Is this really everything you’re thinking about!? I just gifted you my strong arm!”, he barks overdramatically at you.

“You’re the best present ever”, you purr at your fuming boyfriend, gently stroking his arm when he finally gets back into bed.

“But if you wake me over something like that ever again, I’ll murder you.”

Nanami Kento

“Why are you looking at me with those eyes, darling?”

You blush immediately, the day dream of that trend you saw earlier on your beloved husband not leaving your mind. Kento with a bow around his strong arm. Kento flexing his arm in front of you, causing the ribbon to open up.

…Just like your legs.

“You’re daydreaming again.”

You force yourself to look up at him only to find out that he’s already looking at you, soft eyes lightened by a spark of curiosity.

“It’s just…I saw that trend online and it kinda…reminded me of you…”, you mutter, embarrassment crawling up your veins.

You’re acting like a horny teenager over a man you call your husband for several years by now. Kento is the epitome of a gentleman, the most elegant male being walking on this earth. How stupid to even consider wrapping a ribbon around his biceps…

“Don’t be embarrassed, (y/n). Tell me what’s on your mind. What exactly is this trend about?”

He puts the paper he was reading aside and wraps his fingers gently around your chin, slowly but surely making you lose your mind. It should be forbidden for a single man to be this captivating. Should you…Just tell him? Your imagination runs wild, breath getting stuck in your throat by the simple thought of him actually doing this…

“Tying a ribbon around your biceps and opening it by tensing your arm”, you blurt out.

His eyes widen just the slightest. Oh no, does he think you’re weird, desperate, pathetic? You should really stop roaming around social media late at night-

“Why not trying it, then? Even though I don’t think I’m strong enough to untie a ribbon with my muscles.”

Wait…Did he really say yes? You blink over and over to make sure he’s not messing with you until he gets up and grabs a roll of ribbon from your cabinet before cutting off more than enough of the black band. Before you fully realize what just happened he takes off his dark blue shirt, naked skin getting exposed to the dim light of the room.

And your merciless gaze.

“Would you mind helping me out? I can’t tie a bow on my own with just one hand, darling.”

You force your mouth to stay closed, keep your palms from getting sweaty. This is your husband, goddamn.

Your husband, wearing nothing but his work pants. Your husband, holding up a black band, waiting for you to wrap it around his strong arm only because you couldn’t stop imagine him doing a stupid internet trend. Out of instinct, you follow the invitation of his stretched-out hand, fingertips pulsating against his firm muscles while you tie a perfect little bow.

Until he flexes his muscles, forcing the band to untie itself in slow motion. His beefy arm, veins threaten to pop open any given minute. How is it possible for a man to be in this shape when relaxed? Your gaze is fixated on his delicious sight in front of you – so focused that you don’t notice his other hand grabbing your chin before it’s too late.

“It seems like you’re enjoying the view”, he comments softly.

“Just because you are the view, Kento”, you clarify with a small smile, allowing him to drag you into his strong arms.

Toji Fushiguro

“You want me to do what?”

You grab his arm tightly, doe eyes making it hard for none other than Toji Fushiguro to focus. What did you see on the internet again? “Ribbon around bicep”…What the hell?

“I want you to tie a pink ribbon around your bicep and pop it open with your beefy muscles”, you explain briefly.

“Come on babe. Why can’t I just wrap my hand around ya neck instead?”

“Tempting”, you purr, finger gliding over his firm chest delicately slow.

“But you’re the perfect match for that trend. Now sit your ass down and gimme your arm.”

Just before Toji is even able to press his longing lips against yours, you shove him onto the couch and position yourself on top of him, pink ribbon dangling from your fingertips.

“C’mon (y/n)”, he groans, pouting like a little child when you slap the hand that tried to dig into your butt away.

“Hold still. I need to concentrate”, you instruct him.

“Promise we’ll fu-“

“DONE!”, you scream out, the sheer excitement radiating from your voice making him stop mid-sentence.

His eyes follow your gaze, revealing a wonky-looking bow tied around his biceps so firmly that it might burst any minute.

“And now you want me to do what?”, he questions.

It’s hard to keep himself from smiling when you sit in front of him grinning like an idiot. Is that really all it takes? A fucking ribbon wrapped around his biceps? What a strange thing you are.

But still…

You look so breathtakingly gorgeous that he can’t keep up his annoyed façade.

“Flex your muscles babe!”, you instruct him, index finger poking into his biceps.

Fine, he’ll do you the favour. Slowly, he lifts up his arm before popping open the bow with ease, watching the shocked expression on your face.

“That trend was totally made for you, Toji!”, you shriek, your eyes still fixated on his arm.

“Let’s do that again.”

“I know something better.”

All it takes is a swift motion for you to lay underneath him, your hot breath escaping your lips in shock.

“I’m next, babe”, he breathes out.

Bonus: Sukuna

“Why did I even agree to do this…”, the king of curses mumbles while you’re busy tying another ribbon around his arm.

“Hold still, I’m not done yet.”

“You already tied this one three times, (y/n). I’m getting impatient.”

“Oh, I know you don’t. Deep down you enjoy me caressing your arm”, you reply with a cheeky grin, carefully forming another bow around his fourth arm.

Tying a bow around a single arm already sounding inviting, but the stinging fact that your lover has not only two but four arms to offer for this delicious trend…There was no way in hell for you to resist this opportunity.

“Really deep down”, he grumbles.

“I’m done. Now stand still and don’t move until I say so”, you bark at him while taking a few steps back.

“Watch how you talk to me or I’ll-“

“Shut up Sukuna, your threats don’t work for me. Okay, flex your muscles in three, two, one…”

Out of instinct, he lifts up his four arms and pops open every ribbon you tied so laborious these pasts minutes. Damn, he really feels like an idiot, standing in front of you shirtless with pink ribbons falling from his arms. But that look on your face, the way you clap your hands in sheer excitement, that phone…Wait.

“Did you film this, brat?”

You blink a few times, the smile on your face disappearing as fast as it came.

“Maybe I did”, you reply, quickly turning on your heels and sprinting away.

“Delete that right now!”

“I will watch this every time I go to bed!”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru @starlightanyaaa

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Violence, Kidnapping, Alastor eating bitches

Description: Alastor's X Wife!Reader who gets kidnapped and how he deals with that

Alastor's relationship with you is a strong one, the two of of you drawn to each other in an almost supernatural way

But you also trust each other's strengths and aren't prone to stepping in each other's fights

Regardless of how powerful you are

I got your pinkie fingers bby go kick his ass

Holds your shopping bags for you while you go kick ass

Unless of course you ask him to

He likes it when you fix his hair afterwards, preening like a giant rooster as you do

THE POINT IS-

It's not like Alastor spends all his time glued to your hip or sending you out with bodyguards

You can take a damn walk by yourself

You do have a target on back though, if not because of your own strength/actions, then because of your husband

So it's not unusual when someone tries to pick a fight with you

But when you're suddenly ambushed and kidnapped, against the fact that you fought hard to avoid it

Fucking holy weapons

That's new

Well I suppose you'll just have to wait for your husband to come and get you out of this mess

*spits out blood*

Not you bragging about how fucked your kidnappers are once Alastor gets there

He's already going to be mad that they kidnapped his wife, but the fact that they've now put hands on you??? Made you bleed???

Oh they're so fucked

So just sit back and look pretty while you wait for your boo to come and rescue you

And you do look pretty

Keep your damn hands off

Alastor knows something is up when you don't come home, knows that someone must've gotten to you

If the old geezer watched tv maybe he would've known a little sooner

Maybe he would've known that your little fight made the news

Tf was he gonna do?? Wait for it to show up in the papers??

BREAKING NEWS!! RADIO DEMON'S BABE WIFE GETS KIDNAPPED AFTER EPIC BATTLE!

But when Angel shows him that you've been kidnapped Alastor literally just-

Makes this face:

Oh he's getting his wife back

RIP Angel's phone 😭

He's visibly very calm about the whole thing though, which makes the others even more worried

"Well then! I suppose I'll have to get Y/N back myself, won't I? You all wait here, I won't be long now~"

Alastor does give them a chance to give you back before he comes and hunts them down

It's one of the most terrifying radio broadcasts people have listened to but this is his WIFE we're talking about

On the inside he is VERY ANGRY

Even if they do bring you back he still eats them

Fuck them he never promised them anything

They took and HURT HIS WIFE

If they don't bring you back then they're going to be subjected to slaughter like they've never known before being eaten

Not him using his massive demonic form to rip apart their safe house

Anyone who doesn't know Alastor like you do will think he's being surprisingly playful about it all

But as his wifers you know he's raging by the look in his eyes 👀 not merely playing with his food

Not wifey just sitting back and admiring Alastor while he works 💅✨️

Damn this is really doing it for me

Admires how elegantly you stretch and rub your wrists after your bindings are undone, so graceful even after taking a beating

"Thank you, Alastor~ Right on time as always~"

He begs to differ

"Anything for you, my dear."

Won't really look at you until you grab his chin and force him to, Alastor giving you a guilty smile

Le kiss

Leans in to touch foreheads with you, the two of relaxing in each other's arms amongst the carnage

Casually licks the blood off your face to ruin the moment before taking your arm

"Now let's get you home, my darling~"

Doesn't leave you alone for the rest of the night, trying to hide the fact that he's fretting over you

You want to take a bath and get cleaned up? He'll help you!

You want to lay down and rest after a stressful day? He's actually pretty tired too so you two should go to bed together

Will 100% broadcast their screaming souls as a warning to anyone else who wants to try that little stunt again

Falls asleep to it actually, one arm wrapped around you as he drifts off so that when he wakes up, he'll know you're right there with him

He doesn't think any less of you, he's been beat before too

Don't remind him

Will absolutely call himself your hero for like a week straight and land himself in the doghouse by the end of it

[lyvhie]

NCT Dream 00z line (18+)

jaemin loves cockwarming sessions with you, because they always lead to sex. it starts when one of you, mostly him, is too tired to do something that requires more energy, but eventually he can't hold himself back. "j-jaemin, stop moving," you mumble against the crook of his neck. you were sitting on his lap with his cock buried deep inside you, trying to stay still at each movement he made. "sorry, i'm just looking for a better position here," he knew that wasn't what he was doing. it wasn't your fault that your walls clenched around his cock when he shifts on the sofa, thrusting his hips weakly into you, making you both moan at the feeling. "this isn't gonna work, babe," he lays you down on the bed. "i need to fuck you, like, right now," he would mewl in your ear, already knowing how this would end.

overstimulate you is one hyuck's favorite hobbies. it was pretty entertaining for him to watch you turn into a complete babbling mess everytime he'd just his tongue inside you. nothing could make him happier than knowing he was the one making you dizzy with intense pleasure. just like now, you have him between your legs, with his arms wrapped around them, occasionally using force to keep them open. "h-hyuck, stop, please..." you pleaded, your legs weak and your head on cloud nine at this point. he look at you with his innocent eyes, a contrast at how he looked right now, with his face covered with your juices from your three previous orgasms. "just one more, love," he bite your inner thigh, leaving another love mark there. "be a good girl and cum for me again and i promise i'll stop, hm?" and you just accept because you are his good girl :(.

jeno loves when your pretty little mouth is wrapped around his cock. he loves seeing you struggle to take it all in your mouth, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you gag everytime you tried to. "you can do it, sweetie, keep goin'," he always get dizzy when you actually can and he manage to see the bulge on your throat as you pull him deep, your face all flushed while you look at him with expectant eyes looking for his approval. "f-fuck, that's it, baby. y-you take me s-so fucking well," he would say with a raspy voice, praising you and letting moans escape from his parted lips, only encouraging you to continue with your good job until he let his warm release in your mouth, tightening his grip on your hair and pulling you close until your nose is touching his belly, making sure you'll swallow all of his cum.

if there's one thing renjun loves the most, it's how sexy you look when you are riding him. there's something so erotic about watching you please yourself on his cock, your tits bouncing up and down, your face flushed, a thin line of sweat forming on your forehead, your eyes closed as you moan his name. gosh, he could cum just at the sight of you like that. the cherry on top is definitely when you cum all over him, your walls clenching around him as your face contort in pure bliss with a silent gasp leaving your mouth. "please," he whine, "do it again."

a/n: hi! i'm lyvhie. eng is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes! i'll gladly receive tips to improve my writing^^