#I’m just talking to myself in the tags by now

[nightwingsgypsyrep]

Ok so I’ve been umming and ahhing about making this post for a while. I’ve always kinda planned on it, but seeing these tags on a previous post of mine (no hate to this user) made me want to post something now. It’s also gone 3am. So it’s not really going to be very clean and tidy, and will probably be a bit rambling, but I can always post a ‘tidy’ version another time.

So! Tackling Dick Grayson’s Romani/GRTSB heritage (warning: it’s a long one)

So, as usual, a few disclaimers: 1) I am not American. 2) I myself fall under the GRTSB umbrella - for clarity, I am from the fairground/circus so a Showman, but my family were simply ‘gypsies’ before getting involved in that in the Victorian period, so I use gypsy/traveller/Showman for myself. I also speak Romani and grew up in the culture and on the grounds. I’m not just talking out of my arse, I promise. 3) I do not pretend to have read every comic. However, this post will be based in things which DC have published (yeah I know it gets retconned every two minutes but hey, I’m working with it), even if some of it is more speculative/Headcanony, it will all be canon-compliant/what makes sense based on my own experiences. 4) That being said, everyone who does in some way fall under the GRTSB acronym will have different experiences and opinions, and all are equally valid and should be respected. 5) I use the term ‘gypsy’ a lot. Where I am from, it is not a slur, but is used almost a catch-all phrase for GRTSB people, by us. We also see Dick use it so I’m going to. I personally don’t mind if people use it (so long as they don’t use it as an insult) but not everyone will feel that way, so it’s always better to ask individuals. 6) this post is intended as a fun exploration of a character whom I relate to based on our shared heritage (when it’s really rare to find characters like that). I’m not trying to dictate to you how you should interpret Dick’s character. You’re welcome to different opinions and interpretations - this is just one of mine! :)

So, first, what is GRTSB? Well, it’s an acronym which covers all aspects of the gypsy/traveller umbrella. It is used in British legislation. It stands for Gypsy Romani Traveller Showman (aka fairground and circus) Boater. Under British legislation, only the first three (Gypsies, Romani, and Travellers) are considered an ethnic identity, whilst Showmen and Boaters are considered a cultural identity.

This is absolutely FULL of problems and has been hotly debated for years, with different people identifying in different ways. People who share the same/very similar ethnic heritage (i.e. siblings, or cousins) can have completely different points of view on what they identify as. As such, don’t take it as gospel - it’s more of a guideline than anything. Especially since a) these groups often intermarry, meaning that someone can be multiple at once; b) if a Showman stops travelling with the fair and settles, they don’t become a non-traveller, because it’s in your blood, not just a job; c) people can trace their heritage back past a particular group - e.g. my own family (circus and fairgrounds aka Showmen) can be traced back to at least the 1600s, before fairs were really a thing - at the time, they simply identified as gypsies. They didn’t stop being gypsies just because they changed their job/founded a circus/fairground. As such, many in my family identify primarily as a gypsy or traveller, and a Showman secondarily, whilst others do the opposite, or identify as just a Showman or just a traveller/gypsy. Like I say, this classification is not perfect, and is hotly debated, especially at the present time.

So, now, onto the subject of Dick Grayson. I included the tags above mostly because of the ‘tell me you don’t know a character without telling me you don’t know a character’, because, firstly, rude. secondly, the poster makes reference to the Golden Age. And yeah, obviously DC aren’t going to make reference to Dick being a gypsy in the Golden Age - do you really expect writers in the 40s to care enough about the nuances of a character’s ethnic heritage, especially a gypsy, at a time when it was still common even in countries like England (where legal segregation wasn’t a thing) to have signs on pubs like ‘no blacks, no Irish, no dogs, no gypsies’ - btw we still get those occasionally? However, if we look at the comics which have been published in the eighty five years since Dick’s debut, we see a lot of references to Dick having Romani/GRTSB heritage. Again, I’m not well read, but in Grayson’s run, at least, we do see Dick speaking Romani and self-identifying as a gypsy (Nightwing #91 btw). So I’m sorry but it is definitely canon that Dick has at least some Romani heritage (since Romani, by culture, is not taught to non-travellers on purpose, and is thus only passed down from parent to child. Hell, even some of my cousins who are half gypsy - Diddakois - don’t know the language!), and the fact that he speaks it and IDs as a gypsy does suggest that this is something important to him and his character. I know that being a gypsy is certainly a big thing to me (with how the world treats us, you have to be proud of it and have it be important to you to make it worth it).

So now we come onto the second part of my rant: wtf is going on with Haly’s Circus.

So, an important bit of context is, what makes a gypsy a gypsy? And the answer to that, in my opinion, is a mix between culture and blood. You can’t be a gypsy (unless in circumstances like adoption) unless you have both. What I mean by that is, if you’ve got one gypsy great great great grandparent, but weren’t bought up with the culture and morals, you have gypsy heritage but are not a gypsy. However, if you are a gypsy and you decide to settle down in a house, work in an office, and never speak Romani again, you are still a gypsy. Similarly, if you suddenly decide to take on the gypsy lifestyle (maybe work on the fairgrounds or in the circus, or go travelling like the New Age lot), you are not a gypsy, because it’s not in your blood - hence why it’s an ethnicity, not a cultural thing really. As such, it is common for there to be a us vs them mentality even with those working on the ground - you have the gypsy/traveller/Showman who tends to own/run things, and then you have hired non-GRTSB staff (traditionally called chaps, but this has fell out of fashion in recent years).

Now, I make this distinction because Haly’s Circus is really odd in that regard.

Most gypsy (or Showmen - like I say, it can be both at the same time) ran circuses and fairs tend to be family affairs. For example, it might be John Doe’s Circus on the tin, but the Smith family (which Mr Doe’s sister married into) will often work with and alongside the Does in the running and operating of the events. Largely, this is on an ownership level, with various relations then owning the surrounding supporting elements (e.g. sideshows, fairground rides and joints, food kiosks). Other family members might then help ‘mind’ the stuff, or you can hire non-GRTSB staff to help.

Now to draw on my own family history: historically, in the Victorian period, etc, it was common for the gypsy family who owned the circus to also perform in it. For example, in my grandfather’s circus, my grandmother was a lion tamer and equestrian performer in parades. They did also hire non-traveller performers, but there wasn’t such a distinct line. However, by the 30s approximately, this had changed to be a more managerial role, with it being more common to have purely hired performers in the main event. The exception here was for sideshows and fairground rides - it is still common today for these to be ran/worked by GRTSB people (e.g. my grandmother did the dookering - fortune telling - and my grandfather did the boxing; today, we still run and operate the rides and kiosks).

However, we know that Haly’s circus was not like that. We honestly don’t know if Haly was a gypsy or not. Also, usually, gypsies have such big families and are surrounded by them, but we know that the Graysons died with no living family (no William Cobb does not count here) and had no relation to anyone at Haly’s. I suppose if you want a canon answer, you could point to how Haly’s was used by the Court of Owls, but it could just be Like That. This is unusual but not unheard of, but still worth pointing out I think. Alternatively, it could originate from one of the non-GRTSB started circuses which were popular around the turn of the 20th century. Since being a gypsy is really tied to your family name and, ethnically, means you have to be born into it - you can’t just start a fair and claim to be one-, even 120 years later, these families are still met with scepticism - they could marry into a 100% gypsy family in 1901, and have all of their descendants do the same, and still the older generation would look at their surname and scoff and say they’re not a real traveller because that one great grandfather 100 years ago was not a born-and-bred traveller. But honestly, I think 100 years is enough to integrate. So, to summarise, Haly’s circus is quite unusual in that it does not appear to be operated by only gypsies/Showmen, even if it still common for circuses not to be performed in by just gypsies.

Now, to answer, how Romani is Dick Grayson?

Like I say, canon does explicitly tell us that he has Romani heritage, placing him firmly within that second category of the GRTSB acronym (and he also identifies with the more general Gypsy identity). However, it’s frankly unlikely that the writers really went in depth with the whole GRTSB thing, so I think we can tentatively suggest that he might have also identified (keyword here being ‘might’ - this is more canon-compliant HC here y’all) as a Showman (called a Carney in the US) because the whole deal with being a Showman is the circus/fairground aspect (but, like I say, it is still a ‘gypsy’ identity as you must be born a Showman, you can’t just sign up, because it is based on a mutual gypsy heritage which predates fairgrounds/circuses, which means it still fits into what we know of Dick in canon. As such, Dick being a Showman is hardly canon, but it is 100% compliant with what we know of Dick in canon). As I’ve said, they are not mutually exclusive. He could ID as both or either, or just prefer the all-encompassing ‘gypsy’.

Now, we also know that Dick is not 100% gypsy (but tbh who is nowadays? I have two non-gypsy great-great grandfathers). Although Dick’s family history is limited, we know that his great grandfather William Cobb was likely not a gypsy (he could be ethnically, it’s not ruled out, he might have just settled, but let’s go for safety’s sake here and just say he’s not). Similarly, his partner was from a wealthy non-gypsy family, meaning that ethnically, their baby (John Grayson’s father) was likely not a gypsy (though could potentially have been a Diddakoi aka a half-gypsy, if we believe William Cobb to be a settled gypsy). However, since this baby still grew up amongst the circus, it is not impossible that he ended up marrying a gypsy, which would make John Grayson half gypsy - aka a Diddakoi. In fact, I would argue that it is even likely, owing to the fact that Dick speaks Romani, and the fact that Romani is only taught to other members of the family, meaning that somewhere in the Grayson family, a Romani speaker had to be introduced. Mary Grayson (formerly Lloyd), on the other hand, probably was Romani/GRTSB herself. I say this, based mostly on her closeness with the OG Richard aka Raptor from Seeley’s run, who was Romani, and the fact that it is really common in gypsy circles to mostly mix with other gypsies, meaning that it would make sense for the pair to meet based on the fact that they were both gypsies/Romani. Therefore, I would argue that even if Dick is not wholly Romani/gypsy ethnically (but, like I say, who is nowadays?), I think there is enough both blood and culturally to make a pretty good case for him IDing as such, and foregoing the need to make any distinction. (Also, especially nowadays when Diddakois are increasingly more common, it’s not even that prejudiced to be a Diddakoi. A lot of my cousins are and you don’t even think to mention it). Aka. He’s a gypsy. Nuff said.

Then, I suppose, the final thing I’ll address is the ‘whitewashing’ issue, or, what I really think is a non-issue.

Sure, a lot of ethnically Romani people are dark skinned. There is a reason why the term gypsy exists. Now, as my grandad will tell you, gypsies originated from Northern India about 2000 years ago, before moving into Europe. However, a lot can happen in 2000 years. There are a lot of people in the UK, at least, who identify as purely Romani who have very pale skin. My family has a real split: my dad’s side of the family is quite dark, and are often mistaken for being South Asian in the summer due to how dark they get when they tan. Meanwhile, he refers to my mother’s side of the family as being ‘poxy and pasty’. My mother is a full-blooded traveller btw, same as my dad (barring their singular non-gypsy great grandad they each had). You just can’t paint everybody with the same brush. Take me for example: I am pale af and take after my mum’s side of the family, but I’ve still got the stereotypical dark curly hair and blue eyes of gypsies (which my boy also shares). Genetics are weird. So whilst I am a big fan of dark skinned Romani Dick Grayson, it’s also still ok and accurate for him to be paler. This does not make him any less Romani. (Like I say, this is all based on my experiences in the UK).

SOOO… TLDR:

Dick definitely has Romani heritage. This has been canon for decades and cannot be taken away from him.

He canonically self-IDs as a ‘gypsy’ (as well as the Romani heritage), and may also be interpreted as being a Showman (even if this is more of a European term) if you want to see him that way, especially since a lot of Showman families (mine included) can trace their families back past the origin of the fairground to when they simply identified as gypsies or Romani (hence why Dick might ID as a gypsy with Romani heritage. Honestly, this is mostly in the realm of canon-compliant Headcanon now)

The GRTSB classification system is a mess y’all and everyone has a different opinion. Just roll with it and don’t get into the debates is my professional opinion.

Being Romani/a gypsy/a traveller/a Showman is something you are born into. You can’t just become one, or stop being one. So, if we presume that William Cobb had no Romani heritage/was not a settled-down Gypsy, even after he joined Haly’s he did not become one. It really is in your blood, and is tied to family.

Haly’s circus is unusual because it’s mostly not a family affair (though points for the Graysons sticking with it and inheriting their roles - that is realistic!). It’s unclear how many of the members of the circus are Romani.

Dick also has non-traveller heritage due to the William Cobb thing. His grandfather, at least, was probably not ethnically Romani (though he might have been half if we want to view William Cobb as having Romani heritage/being a settled gypsy). However, since Dick canonically has Romani heritage, IDs as a gypsy, and speaks Romani (a language which is closely guarded amongst gypsies), it had to come in somewhere. Honestly, I think we can comfortably view him as being at least 3/4 ethnically Romani/a Gypsy, but also since modern Dick Grayson was not born during prohibition, this really isn’t a problem as it’s really common for Diddakois (half gypsies) to be treated as full gypsies nowadays.

As much as I love darker skinned Dick Grayson, it’s not a requirement. A lot of the GRTSB community (especially in Western Europe/Britain/Ireland) are on the pale side. This does not take away from their identity.

So that’s my rant. It’s like 3.30am so it’s probably a complete mess but hopefully it gets down the basics, at least insofar as it relates to my experiences and understanding as a gypsy from the fairground/a circus family. People will probably have different experiences (especially since I’m in the UK). Although I have based all of this on canon, and as such it should all be canon-compliant to my knowledge (I’ve still not read all the comics!), it is also equally based on my experiences, so you may interpret it completely differently. The beauty of Dick’s character is that he has been built up over 85 years, and as such, we have to do our best to interpret what was laid down in the Golden Age by writers with no idea of what Dick’s character would grow to be. As such, canon really is a bit of a sandbox, and this is my own go at it!

If anyone has any questions/wants clarification/notices any obvious contradictions with canon since I’ve not read them all yet, please feel free to point it out! This is not intended to be a lecture/call out post/dictatorship on how you view canon, just a small exploration of my interpretation of a character whom I relate to as a Romani speaking gypsy from the fairground/circus myself.

[cryingprincess13]

Okey, it’s gonna be an absolute shit take, and I’m probably gonna delete it, but I feel the urge to share it with someone who’s not just a wall in my room. And because I have no idea how to use Reddit, here we are.

Am I the only one who’s kinda worried about this new way of “this person is definitely trans” headcanons? Just to make it clear: I’m not transphobic or anything, so if you find something I’m gonna say offensive, I’m already sorry.

I think I need an example to make my point clear, and it’s gonna be the Arcane fandom.

As I said, I don’t hate when someone headcanons their faves as trans. I headcanon some myself. But this tendency I’m gonna talk about just looks so weird to me.

It seems like Arcane fans headcanon as trans only those characters who don’t fit into beauty standards for their gender.

For example, Viktor and Silco—two of the most popular guys among these headcanons. We can see Viktor’s big bulge in one of the episodes, but apparently, for lots of people, his complete loss of any genitals meant, “Well, now that he has no dick, he’s 100% trans!”. Just joking. The reason is definitely his body build.

Same thing with Silco—he’s not as muscular as Vander, and here we gooo. (Esp after I saw that all thc appeared only after episode when he has long hair.) Sevika as well, because if she’s really tall and really muscular, that means she’s trans. Why not, lmao.

I don’t mind any head-canons as long as they not just bunch of stereotypes and don’t sound like:

“This effeminate boy dresses up as a girl? That's a closeted trans girl!"

To assume my whole point. It’s just seems to me like people hc as trans only characters that don’t fit in some imaginative beauty frameworks for their gender. And honestly when 90% of this hc in fanfics are just Silco n Vik being p-ssyboys…. It’s just seems like some sort of new fetish or “gender switching! mlm ship to straight ship” stuff. Sorry not sorry.

Basically I do have /my/ personal little beef with people who headcanon certain characters as trans only bc of stereotypes. And I do have a big problem with people who use trans head canons as way to sneak “p-ssyboy” tag into their fics.

[h-sleepingirl]

Dolly in the Art Gallery: A Charmed 2025 Scene Log/Recap

“Art is how we decorate space, and music is how we decorate time.”

I first heard this Jean-Michel Basquiat quote in a rope class from Barkas, in the context of how we play within both space and time in a kink scene. I think about it frequently, especially as I feel more and more passionately about the brutally human impulse to create art.

I have been coming to hypnosis events since 2013, before Charmed existed -- my first event was packed with my own manic energy, held in a dungeon where people could hypnotize me basically at will. No hotel staff, no sneaking back to a private room. I developed a reputation as an aesthetically pleasing subject, often put on display in subtle and overt ways.

I have grown up in this community. Essentially my entire adult life has been spent involved in going to events and cons. I'm 33 now, and as Charmed celebrates its 10th year I've perhaps been unconsciously influenced to reflect on myself aging.

I feel so much older than that 21 year old exhibitionist. I'm more reserved, quieter, more selective, and certainly smarter. I like who I'm becoming, but I do miss parts of who I used to be -- that confidence, that energy. 

On Friday evening I looked at the schedule and saw there was going to be a Gallery of Living Art -- it's been a staple at Charmed for a number of years, but I'd never done more than peek inside.

I thought to myself: “Why not try to get in touch with that playful younger self? Why not show everyone who I am nowadays? Why not live out a fantasy?” 

Surely I’m not too old. Surely I haven’t grown out of this.

The time comes and I connect with my partner about it. He knows that one of my absolute favorite things is being totally frozen. We decide against anything complicated. No one will touch me or trigger me or anything like that. It’s the most “negotiating” we've maybe ever done, but I still leave all details to him. I tell him: “I was really just thinking this is an opportunity for me to sit blank and still for a long time.”

We walk into the room, and it’s overwhelming. People are setting up intricate exhibits with lots of creative interactions. There is a sheet we need to fill out to describe what our “art” is, which my partner writes on cryptically.

“Dolly can't talk. Duh…”

“Dolly is precious -- don't touch!”

Under “Artist”, where he is meant to put his name, he writes a question mark.

I am so in love with him, watching his mind work on the spot.

We find a place in the loud room and look at each other. We are a fluid force of nature in a bed together, spontaneous and wild. This planning doesn't feel like us. This hypnosis isn't a formality, per se, but it just feels sort of like “We both know how this is going to end on some level -- so how do we spend this time?”

He gingerly removes my name tag and starts murmuring to me. 

Being a dolly is such a luxurious treat that the moment he suggests it, I crumble, gripping his shirt with my weak little fingers, moaning too softly to be heard by anyone but him.

He poses me. He fixes my gaze blank and forward. He lets me practice standing and sitting. This kind of rehearsal is unfamiliar for us, and I almost relish doing something that feels a little awkward.

I am a dolly when he leaves me, frozen and posed, but I know it is going to take a couple minutes to settle in. I am a dolly getting comfortable, a dolly with twinges of self-consciousness. After a couple minutes he walks me over to a different chair, one that is highlighted by empty space around it, and I sit, and I know this is truly where I am supposed to be on display.

Finally, total stillness rushes over me like pure relief. 

I sit, and I stare, and I don’t do anything else. My mind is blank, and sometimes all there is inside my head is “I’m a dolly, I’m a dolly,” in my little dolly voice. It is pure, simple bliss.

People begin to come up to me to look at me. I am a good dolly and I am silent and I do not move even my eyes. They patiently read my sign and then observe me. I cannot change my body position to be any more or less appealing to them, I cannot hide nor flaunt myself.

Some people say things to me, little compliments and appreciations, and I can’t really process their words. The little dolly voice in my head screams in pleasure when I’m spoken to and given attention.

I have ADHD, I’m addicted to my phone, I’m a fidgeter. But there is nothing that carries the unique pleasure of being frozen and still. It reminds me of Quaker meetings, of spiritual silence and meditation that makes one feel time itself as though it has a sensory texture.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel talks about the Jewish sabbath as proof that it is not intuitive for us to sanctify time. But nevertheless as Jews we must learn to do it to make shabbat holy every week. Shabbat is “a cathedral in time,” he says, and I’ve been thinking about how much that applies to my experience of hypnosis. Hypnosis is not a physical object. We may sometimes have props but we cannot touch trance and it leaves no marks. It is time that is the sacred dimension in hypnosis, the time that we set aside (“kadosh” in Hebrew) with another human being.

Heschel says we are slaves to space and material things. And in this moment I feel like I have gotten as close as I can to releasing that. I am not even moving my physical body within the physical world. I am just relishing each passing second of stillness, building my cathedral in time.

Of course, sometimes I think sacred space and objects are very important. After all, I am in a space that is incredibly rare, that only exists very briefly, that I had to travel at length to get to.

And I am an object -- art -- inside of it. I am literally decorating the space, as Basquiat would say.

Am I thinking all of this as I sit there motionless? No, not with any sophistication. I truly feel blank. But I am feeling flashes of this as abstract mental sensations that I will untangle later.

Something else strikes me very quickly that I observe within. When people walk up to look at me, something inside me tenses up. I realize that I am unconsciously preparing myself to talk to them. I have been coming to cons for so long, and especially since beginning to write books I always meet a ton of new people every year who come up to me to talk, which I adore. But right now I am in a space where I literally cannot have a conversation with anyone. I don’t even have my nametag on anymore -- my partner was so clever to remove it.

It is the opposite of vending books, where I sit in a chair and am helpless in the sense that I must engage in conversation with the people who come up to meet me. Now, I literally cannot talk to anyone, and they cannot talk to me, and most people may not even know who I am.

It is a hit of extreme objectification, more real than it has ever felt. I am not sleepingirl -- I am a dolly. “Who” I am doesn’t matter. I am art.

My partner also is not sitting there receiving compliments for me. He is nearby, in eyesight, just watching. But he’s anonymous too. And there is something about this mutual anonymity that makes me feel even prouder about us as a couple. There is no performance of who we are. I don’t know how to describe it, but obviously it feels more authentic than public play usually ever does. Like a little secret we are sharing a corner of.

And he looks ever the artist, sitting back and watching me. I feel very strongly that this little scene isn’t the art -- it’s me. Our relationship is what’s really on display. All the work he’s done over 7 years of brainwashing me, real work on my personality and identity, my wardrobe, every single way I express myself and who I am. The people coming by are seeing his bimbo, his dolly, his [x] -- without necessarily knowing who either of us are.

The rhythm is addicting. My mind babbles my self-given dolly mantra over and over, I luxuriate in the stillness, and I stare. I only can sort of half-see with darkened vision, though my eyes are wide. I love when people notice me sitting there -- their expressions change as they observe me. They step into my metaphorical space, which is eerily silent compared to the revelry of the creative demonstrations that fill the room. They are no longer “being entertained,” and no one can communicate to them what I am doing -- they must engage with me out of their own curiosity.

Sometimes they decide to talk to me. I can’t process most of it, but I remember a few interactions.

Someone says, “What an excellent dolly.”

Someone else notices that I’m wearing a bracelet that says “bimbo,” and says, “Even the details on this one are exquisite.”

Someone else says, “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen sleepingirl play before.”

That last one hits me in the gut with memories of a time now long past: Play in public spaces was universal at cons; I couldn’t move from one place to another without someone dropping me into trance; absolutely everyone knew what I looked like when hypnotized.

Even now as I am on display, I have a mask on, and the people can’t see my gently parted lips.

It is a rush of emotion that is very complex for my simple little dolly head, but it goes away.

For a long while, I just exist as a thing in bliss while the room -- the whole world -- bubbles with activity around me. 

Eventually even as I sit frozen and blank, a little timer starts ticking in my head -- I could sit here for much longer, but I don’t want to make him wait for me, and I have other things I want to do tonight.

Reading Heschel has been helping me release some of that odd panic that bubbles up when I awaken from trance -- the feeling that magic is slipping through my fingers, memories are slipping out of my mind, and I can take no memento from it. I sometimes write, draw, or make music to try to capture the things I feel in hypnosis with my partner. I think it is from that impulse to be able to touch and hold hypnosis, to make it a “thing” in space as opposed to something of time.

But I do think there is something else, just a human drive to create art about this transcendent experience that we engage in together. I need to create art to try to communicate the perfect way I don’t move and my eyes go glassy. I need to express my emotions, my desires, my dreams, my love. I am only human, a human blown away by this very human thing we do that we call hypnosis.

Only my partner sees it, and he does see so much into the soul of it for me. But this is exactly what I have wanted -- a chance to publicly communicate the beauty of what he and I do. To make this art by performing it, living it. To engage in a human act of creativity by having my humanity stripped away from me.

I am a bimbo, a dolly, I am art -- and that doesn’t go away when I get up to tell him I am done sitting here. I am his art. I am a manifestation of his creativity in this world, and he has a beautifully creative mind which I love so dearly.

This is serious for me, this is real for me, this is so highly personal and jealously guarded as my own precious identity.

Ten years ago I laid my head on his lap and he transformed my eyes into dolly eyes and told me that someday he would turn my whole body into a dolly body. And as we laid together in a bed after the Gallery on Friday he talked about how I had those dolly eyes again in that room. But to me, it’s not about being a dolly, or even being a bimbo. It’s about creating art together, art with a power imbalance. And fucking respecting that as sacred and exciting.

I don’t have much else to say except extreme heartfelt gratitude to Mazirian for running the Gallery, and everyone who came by to look at me and said nice things to me and joined me in my world for just a little while. 

(If you’re curious, I was sitting there for about 30 minutes.)

[sherewrytes]

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 8

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

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CHPATER 8 - AFTERSHOCKS

Yn pov

The cold night air felt like a slap to my face as I left Kenjaku’s place, my footsteps echoing hollowly down the quiet street. I tried to keep my mind blank, to drown out the lingering, haunting image of Sukuna—his dark, haunted eyes and the barely lit cigarette slipping from his fingers as he whispered for me to leave.

My chest felt tight, my heart pounding as I tried to make sense of the broken pieces he’d left scattered inside me. Every time I thought he’d reached his lowest point, he seemed to spiral deeper, as if he was determined to burn everything down to ashes.

I couldn’t ignore that I still cared. Seeing him like that—seeing him looking at me with that raw, bitter pain—I wanted to help him, to reach out, but I knew better now. I had spent months clinging to hope that maybe, just maybe, he would change for us, for himself, for the family that he still had.

But tonight, his words left no doubt. He wasn’t ready, not for me, not for anyone. And I had to face the reality that he might never be.

A few blocks down, I caught my reflection in the darkened glass of a closed café. I looked like someone I barely recognized—worn, tired, weighed down by a love that kept clawing back even when I tried to sever it.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a text from Utahime: “Hey, just checking in. Are you okay?”

The concern in her message softened the ache, even if just a little. I didn’t have to handle this alone; I didn’t have to keep it all bottled up inside. I knew she’d come over, let me talk or sit in silence—whatever I needed. And right now, maybe I needed someone to remind me I still mattered, even if Sukuna had all but forgotten that.

I texted her back, “Not really, but I’m heading home. Could use some company if you’re free.”

Within seconds, she responded, “On my way.”

I slipped my phone back into my pocket and took a deep breath, looking up at the night sky. I whispered, maybe to the stars or just to myself, “I’ll survive this. I’ll get over him.”

But as much as I wanted to believe it, the ache in my chest told me it wasn’t going to be that easy.

I knocked lightly on Utahime’s door, the sound muffled by the weight of my thoughts. As the door swung open, I was greeted by her warm smile, though I could see the concern in her eyes. Behind her, Shoko sat on the couch, a soft glass of wine in her hand, and Geto was casually leaning against the wall, arms crossed. My heart did a little flip in my chest as I processed the sight of them together—together, like a real couple.

I hadn't been prepared for that.

Shoko saw my hesitation, and before I could ask, she smiled and said, “Yeah, we’re dating. Long story.”

I nodded quietly, swallowing back the knot in my throat. I wasn't sure why the news hit me so hard, maybe because it was a reminder that things were changing—life was moving on for everyone, even if I felt stuck in place, trying to untangle the mess that was Sukuna.

Utahime saw my expression shift and gently ushered me inside. “Come on, sit. You look like you need to get out of your head for a while.”

I sank into the couch, a little too aware of the awkward silence hanging between us. Geto noticed and softened his posture, giving me a small, understanding nod.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low but filled with concern.

I forced a smile, but it felt brittle, like it might shatter at any moment. “Yeah, just been a long couple of days.”

I glanced at Shoko, who didn’t speak immediately but gave me that steady, unspoken support only she could. She, too, knew the weight of what I’d been going through. We’d all lived it in some way or another, the pain of love and loss.

Utahime sat beside me and handed me a glass of water. “You know you can talk about whatever’s going on, right? You’re not alone.”

But the weight of the night—the weight of Sukuna’s words—was still too much to carry. I didn’t want to bring up my problems, especially not with how well everything seemed to be falling into place for them. I didn’t want to ruin the rare moment of peace I had here with my friends by pouring out the chaos of my emotions. Not when I knew they already had enough of their own burdens.

“I just...” I trailed off, unsure of how to say what I was feeling. “It’s a lot to process. And I’m not sure where to go from here, you know?”

Shoko’s gaze softened as she placed her drink down, giving me her full attention. “You don’t have to have it figured out right now,” she said gently. “You just have to take it one step at a time.”

I let out a shaky breath, nodding as the tension in my chest eased a fraction. They were here. I wasn’t alone.

But even with their support, my mind kept drifting back to Sukuna, to his cold dismissal, to the rawness of his words.

“You made the right choice… don’t let guilt eat at you.”

I closed my eyes briefly, trying to push the thought away. That guilt... it would always be there, wouldn’t it? No matter how many times I told myself to let go.

But for tonight, at least, I could let the presence of my friends drown out the echoes of his voice, if only for a little while.

I watched as Geto leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Shoko’s lips, his actions almost casual but carrying the weight of a goodbye. Shoko held his arm, reluctant to let go, her fingers tightening around him, before she looked up at him, her expression a mixture of concern and confusion.

“Why?” she asked softly, her voice laced with worry.

Geto’s eyes briefly flicked over to me, and my stomach churned at the look he gave. It wasn’t pity, but it felt like something else—something more complicated. He gave her a small, almost apologetic smile, brushing a hand over her arm. “I’ll text you, Sho. Gotta check up on some people, you know how it is.”

Shoko didn’t respond immediately, but I could see the hesitation in her eyes. She wanted to argue, to keep him here, but she didn’t. Instead, she let out a small sigh and nodded, her fingers brushing the fabric of his sleeve one last time before he stood up and turned toward the door.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” she said to him, her voice small, almost fragile.

“I will,” Geto answered, offering her one last soft smile before leaving the room. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving an unsettling silence in his wake.

I didn’t know what to make of it. Their relationship wasn’t something I was used to yet—seeing them together, watching the small acts of affection that seemed so natural, yet felt so foreign to me.

Shoko exhaled slowly, her gaze turning to the space Geto had just vacated. It was clear she was processing something, her usual calm mask slipping just slightly. After a moment, she looked back at me, her eyes sharp with a quiet intensity.

“You doing alright?” she asked, her voice softer nowr as if the moment had made her more aware of the space between us.

I nodded, forcing a smile even though the ache in my chest was still there, gnawing at me, a reminder of everything I wasn’t ready to face. “Yeah. Just... a lot.”

Shoko studied me for a moment before leaning back against the couch, folding her arms across her chest. “You don’t have to talk about it now. But you know, you’re not alone in this, right?”

I met her eyes, and for a moment, I let myself believe her. Maybe this pain wasn’t mine to carry alone.

Maybe, for tonight, I didn’t have to keep pretending that I had it all figured out.

“Thanks,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, feeling the weight in my chest ease just a little as I let myself believe in her words.

I took a deep breath, the tension in my shoulders still heavy as I recounted everything to Shoko and Utahime. The weight of the situation felt heavier now that I was speaking it out loud, but I couldn’t hold it in anymore. They needed to know—especially after everything I’d just witnessed.

“Yuuji came by earlier today,” I started, my voice quieter than I intended, but steady enough to keep going. "He showed up at my apartment, completely out of the blue, looking... well, he looked like he’d seen a ghost. I could tell something was wrong the minute he walked in."

Shoko raised an eyebrow, shifting slightly in her seat, her expression curious but concerned. Utahime looked at me, her usual stern demeanor softened for a moment as she awaited the rest.

“What happened?” Shoko asked, her voice gentle but insistent.

I hesitated for a moment, my mind replaying the earlier events like a loop. "He was asking me if I’d seen Sukuna. He told me that Sukuna had been holed up in his apartment for days and that he was... acting strange, even for him. Yuuji didn’t want to deal with it alone, so he came to me. I knew something had to be off. Sukuna hasn’t been answering calls or texts, and when Yuuji said he couldn’t even get in contact with him, I just had this gut feeling. I knew exactly where he was."

I paused, swallowing the lump that formed in my throat. "Yuuji said Sukuna’s been shutting everyone out, and I don’t think anyone really knows the extent of it. I don’t know how Yuuji does it, but I could see the worry on his face. He’s scared, Shoko."

Utahime’s eyes narrowed slightly as she processed my words. "And then what? What did you do?"

“I told Yuuji to go back home. I gave him my spare key to my place, just in case Sukuna showed up again, but... something didn’t feel right. I didn’t want Yuuji to be on his own with this, but I couldn’t exactly go to Sukuna’s apartment. I didn’t know how to handle that. So, I called Kenjaku, asked if he knew where Sukuna was. He was quiet at first, but then he told me Sukuna was with him—said he wasn’t doing well.” I looked down at my hands, my fingers fidgeting nervously. “He said... Sukuna was completely off the rails, Yuuji’s not the only one trying to keep him together. He’s falling apart, guys. I’m not sure he even wants help anymore.”

Shoko’s gaze softened, a quiet understanding passing between us. Utahime leaned forward, her arms crossed as she listened closely. “He’s drowning, isn’t he?”

I nodded. "Yeah. I think he’s been drowning for a long time. I don’t think anyone’s been able to reach him, not really. And after everything with Jin... I don’t know if he’s even capable of letting anyone in anymore. It’s like he’s pushing everyone away, even the people who want to help."

Utahime let out a slow exhale, her brow furrowing as she processed the situation. "And you? How do you feel about all of this?"

The question hit me harder than I expected, the weight of it pressing against my chest. I paused, uncertain of how to answer. "I don’t know. I love him, I do. But I can’t keep doing this to myself. I can’t keep waiting for him to pull himself out of this mess he’s made. He has to want it, right? He has to fight for it."

I swallowed hard, blinking back the burning in my eyes. "But I can’t help him if he won’t let me. I don’t even know where to start anymore."

Shoko shifted in her seat, a small, knowing smile pulling at her lips. "Sometimes the hardest thing is realizing that you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. But that doesn’t mean you don’t care. It just means you have to put yourself first now. He’s got to figure this out on his own, Y/N."

Utahime nodded, her voice quieter now but no less firm. "And you’re not the one who has to carry the weight of his choices anymore. You’ve already done enough."

I let her words sink in, the truth of them slowly loosening the grip of guilt that had been squeezing my chest. Maybe they were right. Maybe Sukuna needed to want help before anyone could reach him. But part of me couldn’t shake the thought—was I giving up too soon? Could I have done more?

"I just want him to be okay," I murmured, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them. "I just want him to find a way out of all this... for himself."

Shoko leaned forward, resting a hand gently on mine. “I know you do. But sometimes, the best way to help someone is by letting them figure things out on their own. He has to want to get better for himself, not for you, not for anyone else."

I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of her words settle into my bones. I wasn’t sure what the future held for me and Sukuna, but for now, I had to accept that I couldn’t save him. Not unless he was ready to save himself.

The conversation lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken words. Shoko’s hand remained on mine, grounding me as I processed everything. Utahime leaned back in her seat, her arms still crossed as she studied me.

“You did what you could,” Utahime said firmly. “Now it’s up to him. But don’t think for a second that it’s your responsibility to fix him, Y/N. You’ve been through enough.”

I nodded, though the ache in my chest didn’t lessen. “I know. It’s just… it’s hard to see him like that. To see someone you care about destroy themselves.”

Shoko gave me a small, reassuring smile. “It always is. But you have to remind yourself that you can’t set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm. You’re allowed to move on, Y/N. You’re allowed to heal.”

I let out a shaky breath, the weight of their words both comforting and suffocating. I wanted to believe them, to let go of the guilt and pain that had been eating away at me since I walked out of Sukuna’s apartment. But it wasn’t that simple. It never was.

Geto’s voice broke through my thoughts. “You know,” he started, his tone careful, “Sukuna’s not someone who’s easy to reach, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t leave a mark on him. Sometimes people need to hit rock bottom before they realize they need to climb back up. You might have been the first step for him, even if it doesn’t feel like it now.”

I glanced at him, surprised by the insight in his words. Geto had always been quiet, observing from the sidelines, but when he spoke, his words carried weight.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe you’re right, but it still feels like I failed him. Like I should’ve done more.”

“You didn’t fail him,” Shoko said firmly. “You loved him. That’s not failure. But love isn’t always enough to fix someone. And that’s not on you.”

Her words stung, but they were true. I nodded again, more to myself this time, and took a deep breath. “I just hope he finds his way out of this. For Yuuji, for Choso... for himself.”

Geto stood then, brushing his hands against his jeans. “You’ve done more for him than most people would’ve, Y/N. Now it’s his turn to step up. You’ve got your own life to live, and you deserve to live it without carrying the weight of his choices.”

He glanced at Shoko, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

Shoko frowned but nodded, clearly still unhappy about him leaving. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

He chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her forehead. “I’ll try my best.”

I watched him leave, the door clicking shut behind him, and felt a pang of envy at the ease between them. The love and understanding they shared were palpable, and it made the emptiness Sukuna left behind feel all the more stark.

Shoko turned back to me, her gaze soft but firm. “You’re stronger than you think, Y/N. And you don’t have to carry this alone.”

Utahime nodded in agreement. “We’re here for you. Whatever you need.”

I offered them a small, grateful smile, though it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, I tried to focus on the present, but Sukuna’s broken expression lingered in the back of my mind. I didn’t know what the future held for him—or for me—but for now, I had to let go. For my own sake. For my own healing.

—Sukuna’s POV—

I stared at the cigarette between my fingers, watching the ash build and fall like tiny, useless fragments of my life. The apartment was quiet now, save for the faint hum of the heater struggling against the cold. Uraume was gone—finally giving up after one too many of my dismissive grunts. And Y/N… she was gone too.

That thought gnawed at me.

I flicked the cigarette into the ashtray and leaned back, letting the smoke curl lazily around me. My body ached in ways I couldn’t explain. Not just the aftermath of the hospital or the lingering burn of Kenjaku’s words. It was deeper than that, heavier. A dull, throbbing weight that seemed permanently lodged in my chest.

Her voice echoed in my head. The way she said my name—firm, concerned, and just a little broken. Like she still cared, even when I begged her to leave. Maybe especially because I begged her to leave.

I hated it. Hated how much I wanted her to stay. Hated how much I needed her and hated myself for needing her. She didn’t deserve this mess. Didn’t deserve me. I’d proven that a hundred times over.

The door creaked open, and I flinched, expecting Kenjaku to barge back in with another lecture. But it was Uraume, holding two bags of groceries. She glanced at me, rolled her eyes, and started unpacking like I wasn’t there.

“What now?” I muttered, dragging a hand down my face.

“Relax, I’m not here to lecture you,” Uraume said, their tone clipped. “I just thought you might want to eat something that isn’t stale chips or whatever’s left in that takeout box.”

I didn’t respond, turning my head to look at the ceiling instead. The silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable. I could feel Uraume’s eyes on me, but I refused to meet their gaze.

Finally, they sighed, setting down a container of food on the coffee table. “Look, I don’t know what happened with Y/N, but if she came all the way here for you, maybe think about why that is.”

I barked out a laugh, bitter and sharp. “She came because she felt guilty. That’s it. She thinks she owes me something. Like she can fix me.”

“And what if she does care?” Uraume shot back, crossing their arms. “What if she actually gives a damn about what happens to you? Ever think about that?”

I sat up abruptly, the movement making my head spin. “It doesn’t matter, Uraume. Caring doesn’t change anything. Caring doesn’t bring Jin back. It doesn’t undo the shit I’ve done. And it sure as hell doesn’t make me any less of a screw-up.”

They didn’t say anything, just stood there with that same unreadable expression they always had. After a moment, they shrugged and turned away, heading to the kitchen. “Whatever you say, Sukuna. But maybe you should figure out what you actually want before you push everyone away for good.”

I dropped back onto the couch, my head pounding. What I wanted? That was easy.

I wanted Jin back. I wanted Grandpa back. I wanted my old life—the one where everything wasn’t broken and I wasn’t dragging the people I cared about down with me. But that life was gone, and wanting it back was as useless as the cigarette butts piling up in the ashtray.

Still, Uraume’s words stuck. Y/N’s face flashed in my mind—those tired eyes, the way her lips trembled when she spoke my name. The way she didn’t flinch, didn’t run when I lashed out.

What the hell did she see in me? Why did she even bother?

I reached for my phone on the table, hesitating for a moment before unlocking it. The screen lit up, the messages from Kenjaku and Toji staring back at me like a slap in the face. No missed calls. No texts from her.

Of course not. Why would there be?

I tossed the phone aside and leaned forward, burying my face in my hands. My mind replayed the conversation from earlier, every word, every look. The regret in her voice when she said my name. The way she fought back tears, trying to stay strong even when I broke her down.

I didn’t deserve her. I knew that. But damn it, I wanted her. I wanted her to pull me out of this pit, even if it was selfish. Even if I dragged her down with me.

But she was right to leave. She was right to walk away.

Because no matter how much I wanted to believe I could change, deep down, I wasn’t sure I even knew how.

I hear the door knock and Toji strolls in. im pissed off thinking how the fuck does he know where I am. He stared at me, then talked to Kenjaku. I saw them walking in my direction. Ken said again "I think you should go to rehab" I closed my eyes trying to drown him out again....I told him. I already told you no, now just stop

Toji leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his usual cocky smirk nowhere in sight. That alone told me he wasn’t here to bullshit around. I glared at him, the weight of their stares burning a hole through me.

Kenjaku crouched in front of me, his face level with mine. "Sukuna," he said calmly, almost like he was trying not to lose his temper. "This isn’t about what you want anymore. This is about what you need."

I scoffed, looking away. "What I need is for you all to get the fuck out of my face. You think rehab’s going to fix anything? You think a few weeks locked away is gonna magically make me less of a fuck-up?"

Toji pushed off the wall, stepping closer. "Maybe not," he said, his voice low but firm. "But sitting here wallowing in your own self-pity sure as hell isn’t doing you any favors either."

I felt my jaw tighten, my fists clenching at my sides. "You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about."

"Oh, don’t I?" Toji shot back, his voice rising. "You think you’re the only one who’s been through shit, Sukuna? The only one who’s lost people? Guess what, man, the world doesn’t stop spinning just because you’re hurting."

"Toji," Kenjaku said sharply, holding up a hand.

"No, let me finish," Toji snapped, his eyes locked on mine. "You wanna drown yourself in booze and pills? Fine. But don’t pretend you’re the only one who’s suffering. Yuuji’s a kid, for fuck’s sake, and he’s holding it together better than you are. What do you think he’s gonna do if you don’t make it out of this? You think he’ll just move on?"

The mention of Yuuji hit me like a punch to the gut, but I didn’t let it show. I wouldn’t give Toji the satisfaction.

Kenjaku leaned closer, his voice softer now but no less insistent. "Sukuna, you’ve got people who care about you. People who want to see you get better. But we can’t do it for you. You have to make the choice."

I closed my eyes, the weight of their words pressing down on me like a goddamn boulder. I didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to think about Yuuji, or Choso, or Y/N. It was easier to stay numb, to shut it all out.

"I already told you no," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Now just stop."

There was a heavy silence, the kind that made the air feel thick and suffocating. Then, Toji let out a long, exasperated sigh.

"You’re a real piece of work, you know that?" he said, shaking his head. "Fine. Stay here. Rot in your own misery if that’s what you want. But don’t expect anyone to keep picking up the pieces when you finally break for good."

He turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him. Kenjaku stayed for a moment longer, his eyes searching mine like he was looking for some shred of hope, some sign that I wasn’t completely lost.

"I’ll give you some time," he said quietly. "But not forever, Sukuna. Think about what you’re throwing away."

And then he was gone too, leaving me alone in the suffocating silence of my own damn thoughts

Toji paused on his way out, turning back to face me. His expression shifted, an edge of disgust crossing his features. “Didn’t you take Yuuji to live with you and Megumi?” I snapped, trying to push him away with my words. “He’s fine. And Choso’s a grown-ass man. Why don’t you save the lecture for someone who gives a damn?”

Toji stared at me for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “You really think that’s all there is to it?” he said slowly, his voice dangerously calm. “What about Y/N?”

I tensed, glaring at him. “What about her?”

He smirked, but there was no humor in it. “Didn’t you fuck her? What if she’s pregnant?”

The words hit me like a truck, but I shoved the thought aside. 

She’s not pregnant. She can’t be. And even if she was, what does it matter? It’s not my problem.

“Who cares if she is?” I shot back, my voice venomous. “I don’t. She means nothing to me. I don’t know why you guys keep acting like she was ever anything more than a good time.”

Toji’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he stared me down. “You’re a goddamn liar,” he said finally, his voice cold and cutting.

I didn’t say anything, just clenched my fists tighter, nails digging into my palms. 

What the hell did he know? What the hell did any of them know?

Toji shook his head, the disappointment in his eyes cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. “You wanna pretend like she didn’t mean something to you, fine. But don’t expect anyone else to buy into your bullshit. Especially not yourself.”

And with that, he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

I slumped back onto the couch, my head spinning. 

Who the fuck does he think he is, coming in here and saying that shit to me? Like he knows what I’m dealing with. Like he knows what I feel.

But the worst part? He wasn’t wrong.

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the memories of Y/N. Her smile, her laugh, the way she used to look at me like I was worth something. Like I wasn’t the broken mess I am.

Stop it. She’s gone. She left. And good for her. She doesn’t need this shit.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the gnawing ache in my chest. The one that whispered she meant more than I wanted to admit. That she still did.

I wanted more drugs, maybe sleep. I wasn’t even sure anymore. My head was a mess, a tangled web of thoughts I couldn’t unravel.

Y/N… pregnant? No. Hell no. I shook the thought out of my head, like swatting away a fly.

There’s no way. And even if she was, it doesn’t matter.

I pushed myself off the couch, the weight of my own body feeling heavier than it should. My legs felt like jelly, the room spinning slightly as I stood up. I barely took a step before my knees buckled, and I hit the floor hard.

“Fuck,” I hissed, clutching my head as a sharp pain shot through it. My palms pressed against the cold floor as I tried to steady my breathing.

I need to chill. I just need to breathe.

But it wasn’t just the withdrawal or the physical exhaustion. It was everything else swirling in my head. Y/N’s face flashing in my mind, Toji’s words digging into my chest, Kenjaku’s voice still ringing in my ears about rehab.

I leaned my forehead against the floor, my fists clenching. 

Why can’t I just shut it all off? Just for a little while?

The idea of her being pregnant—it was absurd. It had to be. But the thought wouldn’t stop gnawing at me. What if? What if she was? What if she wasn’t?

And what if I wasn’t even around to find out?

I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in the empty room. “She’s better off without me,” I muttered under my breath.

Still, the thought wouldn’t leave. It lingered, festering like an open wound, making my chest tighten.

I forced myself to sit up, leaning against the couch as I rubbed my hands over my face. I could feel my body screaming for another hit, another drink, anything to numb the storm in my head.

But deep down, I knew nothing would make it stop. Not really.

Kenjaku strolled over and pulled me up off the floor, his grip firm, almost too tight. I hadn't even realized I was still on the ground until he yanked me upright.

"You need help," he said, his voice low and steady, but his eyes burned with something harsher—disappointment, maybe, or frustration.

I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. "No," I muttered, my voice cracking slightly. "I don’t need help. I need it to stop."

He didn’t say anything, just stared at me like he was waiting for more.

“The noise, the thoughts... I just need it all to stop,” I continued, my hands trembling as I tried to steady myself against the couch. "Maybe a Xanax... something to take the edge off."

Kenjaku’s lips curled into a bitter scoff, and before I could react, he shoved me back down onto the floor. The impact jarred me, knocking the air out of my lungs for a second.

“You’re unbelievable,” he snapped, standing over me like I was some kind of pathetic, broken thing. “You think another pill is going to fix this? That it’ll fix you?”

I glared up at him, my hands braced against the floor. “Why the fuck do you care, huh? You’re not my family. You’re not my fucking anything!”

Kenjaku crossed his arms, his expression cold, almost calculating. "Maybe not, but someone has to give a damn about you since you clearly don’t."

His words hit harder than I wanted to admit. I turned my face away, staring at the cigarette butt smoldering in the ashtray on the table. “You don’t know what it’s like,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

“What’s that?” he asked, leaning down slightly.

“To live with this... this constant noise,” I said, tapping my temple. "The memories, the guilt, the fucking pressure. You don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re drowning every single second of the day and to know no one can pull you out."

Kenjaku crouched down, his face level with mine. “You think you’re the only one who’s ever dealt with shit? You think you're special because you're in pain? Grow up, Sukuna.”

I clenched my fists, my jaw tightening. “Fuck you.”

“No,” he said, standing back up. “Fuck you for thinking this is how it has to be. You’re better than this, but you’re too much of a coward to try.”

I looked away, swallowing hard. His words cut deep, but I didn’t want to show it. Didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“I’ll tell you what,” Kenjaku continued, his tone softening just slightly. “You want the noise to stop? You want to get out of this pit you’ve thrown yourself into? Fine. But it’s going to take more than a fucking Xanax.”

I didn’t respond, didn’t even look at him. But somewhere, deep down, a small, flickering thought took root.

What if he was right?

Kenjaku’s eyes narrowed, and his voice dripped with disdain as he went in on me.

“When was the last time you even looked at yourself, man? You’re withering away. Skin and bones. Walking around like a ghost of who you used to be,” he said, pacing in front of me like he was building up momentum. “Is this what you want? To fade into nothing?”

I clenched my jaw, refusing to meet his gaze. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t I?” he shot back, stopping abruptly to stare me down. “When was the last time you did anything that wasn’t about numbing yourself? Did you even sign up for the new school year? Or is that just another thing you’ve let rot?”

I bristled at his tone, my fists tightening at my sides. “I took time off. You know that.”

“Yeah, when Jin died,” he replied, his voice softening for a split second before hardening again. “And I understood. Everyone did. But you said one year, Sukuna. One year. Now look at you. What the hell are you even doing?”

“I’m dropping out,” I said flatly, my voice low but steady.

Kenjaku stopped pacing, blinking like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Then he laughed.

A sharp, bitter laugh that cut through the room like a knife.

“Dropping out?” he repeated, his eyebrows raising in mock surprise. “That’s your big plan? Just throw it all away? Jesus Christ, Sukuna. Do you even hear yourself?”

“I don’t care about school, Ken,” I snapped, finally looking up at him. “It doesn’t matter. None of it fucking matters.”

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Of course, it doesn’t matter to you. Nothing does anymore, does it? Not school, not your family, not even yourself.”

“Don’t bring my family into this,” I warned, my voice low and dangerous.

“Oh, I’m bringing them into this,” Kenjaku fired back. “Because while you’re busy spiraling, they’re the ones who have to deal with the fallout. Yuuji. Choso. Hell, even Toji. They’re all trying to hold it together while you—”

“SHUT UP!” I shouted, cutting him off. My voice echoed in the room, and for a moment, everything went silent.

I could feel my chest heaving, my fists trembling. Kenjaku didn’t flinch. He just stared at me, his expression unreadable.

“You’re better than this, Sukuna,” he said quietly, his tone lacking the usual sharpness. “Or at least, you used to be. But if you want to throw it all away, fine. Just don’t pretend like it’s anyone’s fault but yours.”

I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. The weight of his words pressed down on me, suffocating, but undeniable.

I glanced around the room, my gaze flickering over the scattered bottles, the ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts, and the faces staring at me—Kenjaku’s, Uraume’s. It felt like they were all closing in, suffocating me.

They don’t get it. None of them do.

The words echoed in my head, growing louder and louder until they slipped past my lips before I even realized it.

“I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

The room froze. The air felt heavy, and for a moment, I thought maybe I hadn’t said it out loud. But then Uraume’s voice broke the silence, soft but trembling.

“You don’t mean that,” they said, stepping closer. Their eyes searched mine, desperate for something—anything—that would prove I wasn’t serious.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

Kenjaku’s jaw tightened, his sharp gaze cutting through me like a blade. “Sukuna,” he said, his voice low and firm. “Don’t say shit like that unless you’re ready to have a real conversation about it.”

“I’m not having a fucking conversation,” I snapped, the words coming out harsher than I intended. “It’s not a cry for help, okay? It’s just the truth.”

“You’re lying to yourself,” Uraume said, their voice stronger now, almost angry. “You’re drowning, Sukuna, and instead of reaching for help, you’re just letting yourself sink. But don’t drag us down with you.”

I flinched at their words, my body tensing.

“Sink or swim, huh?” I muttered bitterly, shaking my head. “That’s what everyone keeps saying. Like it’s that fucking simple.”

“It’s not simple,” Kenjaku cut in, his tone sharper now. “But you don’t get to just give up and act like you’ve got no choices. You’re still here, Sukuna. That means something.”

I laughed, a hollow, bitter sound that made Uraume flinch. “You’re all so sure it does. But if I’m just gonna keep fucking everything up, what’s the point? Jin’s gone because of me. Grandpa’s gone. Everyone would’ve been better off if I wasn’t—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Uraume snapped, their voice cracking with emotion. “Don’t you dare.”

I looked up at them, my vision blurring. Their face was a mix of anger and pain, their fists clenched tightly at their sides.

“Do you really believe that?” Kenjaku asked, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “That the people who love you would be better off without you? Think about Yuuji. Choso. Hell, even Y/N. You really think they’d be better without you?”

My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard, the lump refusing to go away.

“I don’t know,” I whispered. The words felt like glass, sharp and jagged as they left my mouth. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

Uraume stepped closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Then let us help you figure it out,” they said softly. “But you have to let us in, Sukuna. You can’t keep shutting everyone out.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. The weight of their words pressed against my chest, making it hard to breathe.

Part of me wanted to believe them.

But the other part—the louder part—kept screaming that it didn’t matter. That nothing mattered.

I looked away, unable to meet their eyes.

I was tired. Tired of the fighting, the guilt, the endless cycle of fucking up and trying to fix it.

“I’ll think about it,” I muttered finally, the words feeling empty even as I said them.

Kenjaku didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “That’s a start,” he said. “But thinking isn’t enough, Sukuna. Eventually, you’re gonna have to do something.”

Eventually.

I needed to go back home. back to work. I need to stifle myself a bit. I got up to leave. then I hit the floor.

FUCK!

[suhnflowerstay]

game night pt 2

taglist: @j-onepostzz @lovesunshinefelix @straykeedz @skzbangchanniee

bang chan x afab!reader, lee minho x afab!reader

wc: 10.9k

tags: toxic situationship vibes, high emotions, light angst, smut, fluff, love triangle

part 1

----------

minho: yo so is your friend single

Your eyes open, and Chan's still not awake. Chan typically wakes up before you do, but your brain was so restless thinking about the text from Minho and what it could mean. Chan being deep in sleep has to be a sign, you tell yourself, and your heart starts racing all over again. A large part of you knows that the man sleeping next to you would purposefully sabotage any potential fling with Minho over the weird possessiveness he feels and the double standards he holds. Luckily, you both know each other’s phone passcodes. While that knowledge typically leads to arguments and broken hearts, this time it can lead to something good. (for you at least)

In a burst of impulsivity, you grab Chan’s phone and unlock it to reply, acknowledging in your heart that there will be a fight that happens as a result of going through Chan’s phone to give your number to someone else. That, however, is a problem for future you to deal with. 

chan: yeah, y/n’s single why do you ask

You bite your lip, (im)patiently waiting for him to reply, hoping so desperately that he’s also awake right now. To your surprise, the bubble pops up to show that he’s typing, and you internally squeal, looking over to ensure that Chan is still asleep.

minho: well after last night, i just couldn’t stop thinking about how y/n’s really funny and so insanely pretty it’s crazy 

minho: and i figured if you two aren’t dating, why don’t i give it a try?

Fighting the urge to throw the phone across the room, you send Minho your number before setting Chan’s phone back on the nightstand. You already know that when he sees the messages, it’ll start another fight, but by that point, it won’t matter since you just received a text from Minho asking how you’re feeling after last night’s drinking.

Chan wakes up an hour or two later and finds the bed empty. He assumes you’re in the living room and groggily reaches for his phone, squinting while trying to read the notifications on his screen. He sees the group chat has been blowing up, and when he opens his messages app, Chan notices something weird. In his thread with Minho, your phone number is the last text sent. Chan’s positive he’s not the one who sent that, which means you must have, and he feels sick. He tries to suppress the anxiety rising from the pit of his stomach and opens up the group chat. Where everyone is talking about how hot his friend was. Cool cool cool.

hyunjin: bro chan

hyunjin: next time you bring a baddie to game night please give me a heads up

hyunjin: i was in no way ready to talk to someone who was both hot AND funny

changbin: no seriously

changbin: i also held myself back because i really thought you two were dating

changbin: i didn’t realize i missed my chance until minho yelled from across the room asking if you were dating and then whispered dibs

minho: you snooze you lose

minho: y/n is single but not for long

Chan immediately shoots into panic mode, his worst fears realized. Minho is going to ask you out. You’re going to say yes. He’s going to be amazing, and you are going to fall in love with him and get married and have 12 kids and a farm and like puppies and kitties too probably. Okay maybe he’s spiraling but…

How the hell is he supposed to compete with that and what the fuck is he going to do about it?

“You went through my phone and gave Minho your number???” Chan storms into the living room.

“Well, good morning to you too,” you say casually, looking back down at your phone to text Minho like you’ve been doing since you woke up.

“Are you going to respond at all, bro?!” Chan asks, bewildered, “Why would you text him your number from my phone? What happened to ‘I’m never gonna see him again’?”

“Well… that was before he asked if I was single, and like I told you last night, I am,” you say matter-of-factly.

Chan cannot believe what he’s hearing. His ears are ringing and he feels the blood draining from his body, especially from his face. He's sure he’s about to die because he has no idea what to do, but he knows he has to sabotage it somehow. Maybe he’ll tell all of his friends that you and he are secretly dating or maybe he’ll tell them you have an STI or that you torture animals. One way or another he has to make sure that not a single friend of his wants anything to do with you at all. He wishes so badly he never took you to game night and that they had no idea that you existed.

Three of Chan's most attractive and charming friends all want you, and you’re clearly interested in at least one of them. If you knew the rest of his friends all had some sort of interest in you, would you also be interested in them? He’s spiraling and lost in the fear of what could possibly happen that he doesn't even realize you’re calling out his name. He looks up and he’s now sitting on the couch. How did he get here?

“Chan! Channie, are you okay?” your voice slowly fades in. You look so concerned. Have you always looked so beautiful in the mornings? Chan thinks.

“What happened?”

“You didn’t say anything for a bit, and then you straight up looked like you were about to collapse onto the floor! Your face is so pale- are you okay? Do you have alcohol poisoning?”

Chan’s face turns red, and he can’t believe he just almost fainted in front of you at the thought of you going out with Minho. He needs to learn how to hide his feelings better, and he needs to do it fast.

You make sure he’s okay and that he’s eaten before you let him know you have to head out to do homework. This, of course, is a clever lie so that you can text Minho all weekend without an extremely jealous and possessive man peering over your shoulder, watching your every move. 

What you don’t know is that Chan knows you’re doing this, or at least assuming you are, which is enough, and it’s making him progressively spiral and further lose his mind. He is overthinking every possible outcome. What if you’re talking about him? What if you don’t actually like how he is in bed and you tell his friend and now his entire friend group thinks he’s bad at sex? What if you say you don’t think he’s funny? What if you send Minho nudes? What if you send Minho nudes that he will never get? Chan doesn’t think he can handle that, and the room starts spinning again. 

What if Minho does ask you out, and what if you say yes? The yes feels like a guarantee to Chan. Not for nothing, but Minho is a super good looking guy. He’s super sweet and exactly what you would describe as your type, so there is nothing stopping you from saying yes. What happens next? Will you be Minho’s girlfriend? Will he have to stop sleeping with you and jacking off to your nudes on the nights he doesn’t see you? Will you even still consider him your friend after everything you two have done? Is he going to lose you forever to a man who can’t tell if two people are dating or cousins?

---

You’d been texting Minho all weekend, getting to know each other, and as you walk up to campus on Monday morning, you’re honestly disappointed that he hasn’t alluded to any plan to see you or take you out on a date. As you walk towards your first class, a boy with purple hair suddenly pops up in front of you.

“Hi, beautiful,” he smiles.

“Hi, Minho” you respond, surprised.

“How was your weekend?” he asks, now apparently accompanying you on your walk to class. You find yourself feeling so grateful this is not the class you have with Chan because you aren’t mentally prepared for that drama right now. It is way too early for that.

“It was great. I actually met this really funny guy. He was about yay high,” you say gesturing and putting your hand at his height, “kind of crazy hair and eyes… oh! and says fucko a lot.”

“Oh wow,” he says laughing, “That sounds like a super interesting and hot guy that you should seriously consider asking to marry you. Truly sounds like a keeper,” he kids.

“I don't know that I'm thinking about marriage right now,” you say, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Boo!” he jeers, before asking, “Well if you aren’t thinking about marriage, could I interest you in thinking about a date?”

Your brain shuts down.

“YES!” you say a little too quickly, “Uh yes, yeah. For sureeee, dude. Definitely. That sounds great! I’m so down-” you ramble

“Say yes one more time, and I'll be convinced,” he jokes

“I could change my answer to no,” you warn.

“Fine, fine, fine-” he concedes as you pull up outside your classroom, “I’ll text you the details, yeah?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” you smile.

“Perfect,” he smiles back, leaning in to give you a kiss on the cheek.

Internal screaming ensues

Safe to say that your heart is racing for the rest of the day, and you might as well not have gone to class because you were not mentally present and learned nothing. The only thought in your mind is Minho, Minho, Minho, Minho, Minho-

“Y/N!!!”

Your thoughts are interrupted as you turn around to see Chan jogging up to you.

“Hey, baby,” he says, kissing you.

“Hi,” you reply softly, a little worried that someone (Minho) might be around but melting into his arms anyway.

“How were your classes? Ready to go to the library?”

In the midst of the Minho flash mob going on in your head, you had completely forgotten about your usual study date with Chan on Mondays. How were you supposed to act normal when you were patiently waiting for whatever details Minho was going to send you related to your date?

Chan could sense something was off with you, so he said, “Let’s call off studying for the day and take a drive. What do you think?”

“Sure, sounds fun!” you said thankful to hopefully have more of a distraction than your usual table at the library would give you. You had no clue where he was taking you until you wound up at the beach.

“Hello? What are we doing here?” you laugh.

“Well clearly you’re feeling overwhelmed about something, so I figured a walk on the beach would help since it always does,” he takes your hands into his, looking down shyly. Chan’s behavior is throwing you off, and it feels like it’s coming out of nowhere. It all feels so intimate, making your heart do cartwheels. He knows something’s wrong, so he took you to your favorite place to try to help. You nearly melt.

“Awwwww, Channieeeeee! You love me, how cute,” you softly pinch his cheek, trying to play it off. Instead of joking back, however, he slides his hand to the back of his neck with a little smile and deflects, “Let’s go get you something to eat before we take a walk, and maybe… if you want, you can talk it out, o-only if you want though.”

Talking it out isn’t really an option for you, seeing as your inner turmoil is coming from potentially being in love with Chan and definitely having a crush on Minho. You do, however, feel stress-free spending time with one of your best friends, just listening to the sounds of the ocean and giggling at whatever dumb jokes Chan makes. The familiar feeling comes creeping over you again, as you fall back into comfortable silence alongside Chan.

You are definitely a little bit in love with Chan, and there’s really no doubt now. You’ve been in denial for a very long time because… it’s Chan. He is probably your best friend in the whole wide world, and you refuse to be one of the many people that just fell in love despite him being very clear about his disinterest in relationships. It’s also not something you’re proud of. You were supposed to be totally cool and distant, and it’s entirely too late now. Both of you may have been wrong when you thought it would be simple transitioning from being best friends with someone to having sex with them without some sort of romantic feelings developing.

Even though you know Chan will never want anything other than something casual with you, seeing him in the sunset, smiling and laughing, makes your heart yearn for him even more. You think about how easy it all is and how right it feels. It's him. It just sucks that you are not the one for him... that you aren’t enough. Not enough to get him to want to commit, at least, because otherwise, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. 

The sound of your phone buzzing throws you out of your depressive spiral, the screen lighting up with texts from the man you’ve wanted to hear from all day (and the only man who might be able to help you get over Chan).

minho: hi beautiful how was your day?

minho: are you free tomorrow night?

You smile a little at your phone, and Chan takes notice. He does his best to not look suspicious as he peeks over at your phone screen to see what Minho texted you, and his heart sinks.

“Who's that?” he asks, defeated.

“Oh, it’s just Minho,” you say, looking at your phone, unaware of the frown Chan is now wearing.

“What does he want?”

You look up and see Chan clearly not doing so well, and you begin feeling defensive and ready to remind him that he’s the one that doesn’t want to commit.

“He asked me out on a date earlier and texted me just now to see when I’m free,” you reply, waiting for whatever angry or annoyed response you’re about to get.

“Oh…”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, oh…” the boy looks down, “Did you want me to say something else?”

“No...” Yes! I want you to ask me not to go! you think. I want you to tell me you’re in love with me too and that you will never want anyone but me and that no one else could possibly be me. I want you to tell me that you want me just as much as I want you!

The two of you continue your walk in the sand after you let Minho know that you are indeed free. There is far less laughter, and there is no longer a carefree feeling. Chan drops you off at home, and you feel a bit sad over the shift that’s happening with him but hopeful and excited about your date with Minho.

---

Minho does not tell you what you two are doing on the date, so you have absolutely no idea what to wear. You decide to go for something casual enough that you wouldn’t feel too overdressed if you wound up at the movie theater but not so underdressed that you’d feel uncomfortable at a higher end restaurant. At least that’s how your best friend and roommate Haechan tells you to dress. He lends a helping hand by telling you if you look absolutely horrible or like you’re trying too hard. It may seem like it’s harsh, but he is tired of watching you cry over Chan on a weekly basis.

Being your roommate and best friend means that he hears about every fight with Chan and every girl you see Chan with. He sometimes even hears your fights if they happen in your shared apartment. He wants this to go well as much as you do, for your sake. You deserve someone sweet and caring who is serious about you, and from what Haechan has heard so far, Minho seems like he might be all of those things. This sentiment is reinforced when Minho picks you up.

Minho shows up to pick you up, but he picks you up. He doesn’t just text you that he’s outside. This man actually walks up to your door with flowers, and you are completely shocked. He's dressed in a button down shirt and some black pants, so you definitely feel comfortable with your choice of outfit.

“Wow, your place is really nice. It definitely feels like you,” he says, taking time to look at all the pictures of you and your friends, while you put the flowers in a vase. Then, he sees a picture of you with Chan.

“How long have you been friends with Chan?”

Taken aback by his question, you nearly drop the vase.

“Um- a few years. We met while both our families were on vacation, so we had a long distance friendship for a while before we decided to go to the same university,” you say, finally putting the vase down with the flowers arranged nicely. 

“Well that’s lucky. I'm glad you did because now I get the pleasure of getting to know you,” he says, grinning as he walks back up to you. 

Your cheeks warm, “H-how long have you been friends with Chan?”

“Oh, since childhood, like basically my entire life-“ he laughs, “I was always closer with his cousin Felix because we had similar interests, but Chan was always around as well. It’s actually super lucky that we met because I actually wasn’t going to go to the game night at all, but when I heard Chan was going, I knew I could get him to help me with the homework.”

“Oh wow, so we only met so that you could cheat on your homework?” you fake pout. 

“Nooooo! Don’t say it like that! We met because fate wanted us to meet,” he smiles dreamily.

“Whatever you say, Minho,”  your cheeks warm as you both make your way out the door to his car. 

He opens up the door for you like a true gentleman and slides over to the driver's side. 

“Do you have any idea where we’re going?”

“I do not!”

“Okay, perfect!” he responds, as he speeds off. 

You chat a bit on the drive, just getting to know each other more. You learn that he’s obsessed with hip-hop dancing, which feels crazy considering his being a STEM major. He tells you about his cats and how in love with them he is and how much he loves his family. The ride to your unknown destination is basically never silent and filled with lots of teasing and giggles. 

Finally, you arrive at your destination, and you look up to see you’re at the beach, once again. 

“I remember you mentioning in one of the messages that the beach is really relaxing and a safe space for you, so I thought it would be a good idea for a first date to quell any nervousness” he says, looking unsure of whether you are happy with his choice or not.

“Minho… this is so sweet. This is a great idea, thank you-” you hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek. He blushes lightly and leads you on your way. 

Minho planned for you two to have dinner at this small restaurant with a perfect view of the sunset. The meal was amazing, and the company you had was even better. Dinner was just an extension of the conversation you were having on the drive over, and after dinner, you then walked around the pier and decided it might be nicer to walk along the beach to avoid the crowds and have a more intimate and private date. 

Minho made you feel so secure, and he made you feel so heard and validated. You never ran out of things to talk about. This dynamic isn’t something you’ve experienced before, and it’s a refreshing change of pace. In fact, it’s such a change of pace that it’s kind of making you…

Is basic affection and respect making you horny?

You are suddenly hyper aware of your body and its proximity to Minho’s body. Your hands keep drifting closer to each other as you walk alongside each other, lightly touching but never making that connection. Your eyes move to his lips as he talks, and you can’t believe how gorgeous his smile is. He probably has the softest looking lips you’ve ever seen on a man. He must use a lot of lip balm, you think. Men usually don’t have such moisturized lips. Then, you realize that the lips you’re looking at are no longer moving and neither is the body they’re attached to. 

“Can I interest you in anything?” Minho asks smugly once you finally look up at his eyes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I can't believe I zoned out like that,” you reply, mortified.

“I’ll forgive you if you tell me what you were thinking about,” he smirks.

“I was thinking about how soft your lips must be,” you say matter-of-factly.

Minho’s facade crumbles a bit as he wasn’t expecting you to be so direct, and he looks down at your lips before looking back up into your eyes.

“Would you like to find out?” he asks and you immediately smash your lips against his. He has no idea where to put his hands. All he knows is he wants them all over you before finally landing on keeping them on your face. You finally part for air, and Minho has a hungry look in his eyes. 

“So my place or yours?” you say, chest heaving as you catch your breath.

“Definitely yours.”

Thank God Haechan decided to give you the apartment.

You tumble into your little apartment with Minho, hands grasping at each other, desperately needing to feel each other. One by one, articles of clothing are getting strewn about on your path to the bedroom before you finally land at your final destination, and the two of you are basically naked. He lays you back in bed and leaves kisses as he makes his way down to where you need him most. You haven’t really had sex with anyone but Chan for a while, so having a new set of hands and lips on you is making you more sensitive than you thought you’d be. You shiver at every light touch and Minho notices. 

“What’s wrong baby? Been a while?” he smirks. You decide to ignore him and instead say, “Please-”

“Please what, sweetie? I need words.”

“Please touch me-”

“Oh, don’t worry, darling. I will- I’ve been wanting to taste you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

He finally makes it down to where you need him, and he licks a stripe over your underwear, groaning.

“Fuck, you smell and taste so good, and I haven’t even gotten the real thing yet,” he says, more to himself than anything.

He tears off your underwear, needing to get to the real thing immediately and starts messily licking and sucking at your core. Chan never really goes down on you as you usually just skip to the main event, so, it has definitely been a while since you had this. You can’t stop all the noises escaping you, and they only make Minho even more feral. He is obsessed with hearing you, and he thinks he could honestly die like this and feel completely content. You taste that good. He swears he’s never had pussy this tasty, and he’s officially whipped without even being inside you yet. 

He doesn’t even have a strategy as he eats you out- he’s more just being selfish. He just wants to get as much of your taste as he possibly can, and if you happen to cum in the process, then that’s a win in his book. His unpredictability in the way he licks and sucks and moans against your cunt is making you quickly approach your high, and the second you mention any word of being close, Minho proceeds to tongue fuck you while his nose rubs against your clit. The combination immediately tips you over as you chant his name. Even after you start to come down from your high, he's desperate to keep going down on you, and you have to pull his hair to get his attention. When you do pull his head up, the look in his eyes is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. He looks starved and desperate to taste more, pupils dilated, his mouth slightly open as he’s panting, waiting for the second your hand gives so he can go back to the task at hand.

“I need you inside me, baby," you say slowly. Minho almost throws a fit but decides there’ll be more time to eat you out later. He peels off his boxer briefs, and his member slaps up against his stomach. You’re shocked to say the least. You didn’t expect him to be so… big. He was definitely bigger than Chan. I should not be thinking about Chan right now. But it’s true! Not that Chan’s small, but he’s definitely not this big. You’re practically drooling watching him stroke it.

“You can have a taste later,” he smirks, reading your mind, “I need to feel that delicious pussy suck me in.”

He rubs the tip up and down your slit, groaning, coating it with every drop of wetness he can get. He thinks he could probably get off on just rubbing up against you with how wet you are. 

“Are you ready for me, baby?”

You can only nod in response, since you’re sure you’ll start whining if you open your mouth.

He thrusts in just a little bit, and your body is already overwhelmed in the best way. Your body has to be at peak sensitivity right now because the way his cock feels entering your tight hole is otherworldly, and you’ve barely begun. When he finally fills you completely, his face can’t help but show how amazing you feel. “Fuck,” he gasps, his eyes shut, mouth open, and eyebrows knit. He might’ve been joking when he said you should propose to him, but he feels 100% serious that he would marry you right now. 

“God, please move,” you moan, barely able to keep it together.

“Whatever you need, baby.”

As he starts to move, you see stars. Your body is completely overwhelmed, and you're grasping at the sheets, trying to ground yourself. You wrap your legs around him desperate to feel all of him all over you, and he gets the hint, leaning down to kiss you while continuing to plow into you. He starts kissing your neck and groaning in your ear and saying the dirtiest things. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking tight, and you’re taking me so well,” he says, continuing at a brutal pace, “You’re being so loud, too- I bet the neighbors can hear how loud you are. I bet you love that you’re putting on a show for them- probably want them to watch, huh?” he feels you clench and he slows down, lifting himself back up to be able to see your face.

“Oh- you like being watched, huh, baby?”

You shake your head, your face getting hot knowing how turned on you were by the thought of someone seeing how good Minho is fucking you. 

“No? Are you sure because that’s not what that slutty pussy is saying, is it? I think you love being watched, and you’d let me take you in front of all my friends, huh? Hyunjin and Changbin wanted a piece of you- maybe I’d let them watch.” You clench again, unable to keep yourself from babbling and moaning. You’re almost at the edge as Minho keeps ramming into you at the same pace, hitting the perfect spot everytime.

“Fuck, baby- you’re squeezing me so fucking tight- just a little slut wanting to get passed around by my group of friends, aren’t you?” he says as he wraps his hand around your throat, “You wanna get fucked over and over, baby? That it? You aren’t satisfied with one dick?” 

“Daddy, please,” you whine, feeling yourself nearly over the edge. He leans back down to kiss you, hard. The intimacy of the close proximity, the dirty talk, the new angle he’s hitting inside of you. It’s all getting you closer and closer to your high. Then, he goes and whispers in your ear.

“Just a desperate, needy, little slut-” nibbling on your ear. This light stimulation is enough to send you over the edge, as you cum the hardest you have in a while, leaving scratches all over Minho and practically screaming his name. Minho is rapidly approaching his orgasm as your pussy tries to milk his cock for all it’s worth.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby- where do you want it?” he says, getting ready to pull out. You wrap your legs around him tighter and say, “Inside.” 

“Fuck- oh my god. Shit- fuck, oh my god,” he says, releasing inside you, unable to stop himself as he continues to pound his cum deeper into your pussy. Finally, when the overstimulation is too much to bear, he pulls out, watching his cum trickle out of your hole in awe. He cleans you up before lying alongside you and wrapping his arms around you. 

“I promise I don’t usually do this on first dates,” he says, kissing you on the cheek.

“Don’t worry- I won’t slut shame you,” you joke.

“I can be a slut,” he admits, “But this is not that. I really had a good time with you today, fully clothed, and I'd like to see you again- if that’s okay with you.

Wow. He fucked you, and he still wants to see you again. In public. On a date. With the intent of something serious developing between you two…

“I would actually love that,” you smile.

---

It's now been over a month with Minho, seeing him nearly every day. You always have a good time, and he always eats you out at the end of the date. He's so into you, and it’s a really refreshing change of pace. (But that hasn’t stopped you from seeing Chan on the days that you aren’t with Minho). 

You aren’t exclusively dating Minho yet, but he has made it abundantly clear that he is okay with taking things slow, per your request. He’s so sweet- he even (re)introduces you to his friend group. 

“This is Seungmin, who was at the game night,” Minho says as the boy shyly waves. “Then there’s Chan and Felix, who you already know.” Chan gives you a tight lipped smile. “There’s also Jeongin- he couldn’t be at game night because he had a music assignment to do.”

“Nice to meet you, Jeongin,” you say, and Jeongin just smiles in return. 

“Then, there’s the troublemakers,” he jokes, and it makes you giggle a little bit which Chan notices. Chan actually notices everything. How Minho has his arm around you like it’s where it belongs. How you’re looking at him with stars in your eyes. How he is introducing you to his group of friends like you’re his girlfriend, which you definitely aren’t because he was deep inside you 2 nights ago, making you beg for his cum. 

“There’s Hyunjin who you met,” Minho starts as Hyunjin pulls you in for a hug and whispers just loud enough for Minho to hear, “There’s still time to leave him.” 

You giggle as Minho pulls you away and glares at Hyunjin. 

“Hey! This is not why I’m doing these introductions… This is Changbin,” he says, turning back to you, “He was at the party, but I don’t think you two spoke.”

“No, we did not, and that was a big mistake on my part,” Changbin says, going in for a shorter hug than Hyunjin. When he pulls away, he keeps his hands on your waist.

“Nice to meet you officially, gorgeous. I second what Hyunjin said- it’s never too late to pick the better member of the friend group.”

You are now officially flustered. Did Minho tell them about the comment he made the first night you slept together? (and several nights after that) 

You look around the group and a few of them are looking at you like they’d also like a taste… except for Chan who is glaring at Felix for staring.

“Yah! Stop it! I didn't bring them here for you guys to all stare and latch on. They’re here so that you all can meet the person I'm going to marry,” he jokes. Chan chokes. Why did Minho have to say that while he was drinking water? Now all of the attention is on Chan, everyone trying to figure out what happened. Finally, Chan is able to properly breathe again and Minho says, “Okay, well, moving on. I saved the best for last. This is my best friend Jisung!" 

The boy smiles big and gives you a hug, just like the other boys (minus the suggestive comment) and says he’s happy to finally meet you, and apologizes for being so shy previously. The boys go on having independent conversations in small clusters, and you stick by Minho’s side listening to his conversation with Hyunjin and Changbin, that is, until you feel like someone is trying to make your head explode with their stare. You turn and look over to see none other than Chan who is not giving any attention to what his cousin has to say. He is instead trying to make not your head but Minho’s head explode. He thinks that if he hopes and prays enough, Minho’s head will just roll right off his body.

“I’m gonna go catch up with Chan,” you say, and the boys let you go but not without watching you leave. Minho slaps both Changbin and Hyunjin and says, “Hey! Stop it! You’re gonna scare them away!”

“Listen, you might have called dibs, but you aren’t married yet,” Changbin says.

“I have to agree,” Hyunjin adds.

“Guys, this isn’t funny anymore- don't even look at them!” They both immediately turn to look at you and Minho sighs, exasperated.

“Hey Chan,” you say, interrupting Felix’s rant about god knows what, “Can I talk to you about that thing?” You grab Chan’s arm and walk out of earshot before saying:

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“What are you talking about?” Chan asks, knowing all too well what you’re talking about.

“Chan, don’t play dumb- you’re looking at Minho like you want to kill him!”

“Am I not allowed to look at people?” he says, nonchalantly.

“Not when you’re looking at them like you want to kill them!” you whisper-yell.

“It’s just funny to me that he’s introducing you to everyone as if I wasn’t in your guts basically any day you weren’t with him.”

“Shhhhhhut the fuck up,” you hiss, looking back to make sure no one heard you two. “We aren’t official yet, but I like him, Chan- and you’re going to have to be okay with that.”

“Dude, he’s corny like- does he even know how to fuck you right?” he says in a cocky tone.

“You don’t want to know the answer to that, Chris, stop doing this.”

“What I can’t ask about your sex life with one of my friends?”

“No, actually. You can’t. Because you’re just going to start a fight, and look we’ve been on a few dates now. Talks are getting more serious and him introducing me to his friends is serious,” you respond.

“Minho is never serious about anyone-” he deadpans.

Your heart kinda breaks at hearing that, but you won’t let Chan know that so you throw it back on him. 

“Okay well, that’s even more of a reason for you to not be concerned and to remember that it’s none of your business. If he’s not serious, then why is it a problem- how does it affect you?”

“It doesn’t- I’m just letting you know,” he mumbles.

“Well, I didn't ask for your input. You are going to have to act normal and not be a dickhead out of spite-”

“It’s not out of spite,” he interjects, “It’s-”

“It’s? It's what, Chan?” you ask, officially heated from this conversation.

“Hey, is everything ok over here?” Minho says, coming to your rescue and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Yeah, we were done actually,” Chan says before walking away.

You nearly roll your eyes. You look back to Minho, smiling, and wrap your arms around his neck. You stay like that, talking about anything and everything while Chan glares from afar.

---

You've been spending a lot of your days waking up in Chan’s bed and then going to sleep in Minho’s. All this juggling has you feeling all sorts of things, but also, a pro is you have never been fucked so good and consistently. It would almost be worth it if it weren’t for all of the emotional turmoil and distress you’re feeling. Minho is so incredibly sweet and he fucks you so good, but the second you get a text from Chan, you’re down bad all over again. 

For example:

3:25pm

minho: are you free tonight, beautiful?

3:25pm 

channie: babyyyyy

channie: you’re coming over tonight right?

No! Enough is enough. You decide it’s time that you fully give yourself to Minho. If you’re still sleeping with Chan, there’s no way you’ll ever be fully focusing on Minho. 

you: we need to talk

Chan's heart drops to his ass. This can’t be happening. He knows exactly what you’re going to say, and he actually thinks he will collapse this time. Maybe he does have feelings for you, but what’s he supposed to do about it now?

You show up at Chan's door, feeling like you’re going to puke out your heart. It’s just sex, right? You’re just friends who have sex, and so, this will be nothing. This will be a super easy conversation that will go so smoothly, and neither of you will feel any differently. You try to convince yourself all of that’s true and knock on the door. 

“Hey, baby,” he greets you, already looking like something’s up. 

“Hi Channie, how was your day?” you respond, walking in.

“Oh, it was pretty good. The same old shit. Hyunjin was nagging me about our group project, but it’ll be fine. What did you want to talk about?” he asks, cutting to the chase. You take a seat on the couch right next to him and try not to think about your knees touching and how you desperately want to touch more of him.

“So… as you know… I’ve been seeing Minho, and we’ve been on several dates…” Chan’s jaw clenches, “and things are going really well, honestly…” you smile genuinely. Minho has truly given you butterflies and is constantly making you feel like you’re the most gorgeous person he’s ever met. You have never ending conversations, and you truly have insane sexual chemistry. He's just not…

“Chan… we have to stop sleeping together. We always said if one of us needed to end it, we would- and I really like Minho, and I don't really want to be sleeping with anyone else while he’s trying to start a relationship with me-” you ramble, looking at the ground on that last part. “Is that okay?”

“Oh yeah- of course that’s okay! You know I can always get sex somewhere else, Y/N. It’s not a big deal,” he comments.

Well, that stings.

“Oh- okay. Great! Well… are we still friends?”

“Yeah, of course we’re still friends,” he smiles.

---

THAT WAS A LIE 

It has been two weeks since your talk with Chan, he hasn’t so much as looked at you. He hasn’t been around his group of friends, and he’s been ignoring your texts. The only time you see him is at school with his arm around random girls or one time, at a party walking up to his room with- you’ll never guess- a random girl. You try not to let it bother you, but you’re failing miserably. You’re currently at a party glaring at him with a girl sitting on his lap when Minho comes up. Minho who you have been seeing for two months and who you still haven’t let be your boyfriend.

“Hi, baby,” Minho says, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. You turn around and see he’s a little pink. He's definitely drunk. 

“Minho- honey, how much have you had to drink?”

“Like- literally nothing? I had like 4 shots of vodka,” he says, holding up 2 fingers. “Oh! And I only had a few hits off Jisung's bong,” He smiles. He's so cute. You can’t believe how cute this grown man can be. 

“Okay, maybe we should go home- how does that sound baby?” you say in your sweetest voice because you know the cuteness overload will get him to listen to you.

“Aw- I can’t say no to youuuuu,” he smiles, booping your nose.

You walk him through the crowd as he has both arms wrapped around your shoulders so as to not lose you. He decides he isn’t ready to leave just yet and pulls you in the direction of dancing bodies. 

“Minhoooooooo-”

“Come on, baby, just one dance? Please?” he pouts. You may know his weaknesses, but he knows yours too. 

“Fineeeeee,” you sigh. “Just one,” you say, holding a finger up to let him know you’re serious.

Chan sees you two dancing and fights every urge to not get up and steal you away from Minho. He hates how happy you look and how close the purple-haired boy is to you. He hates knowing that you’ll be in his bed tonight or maybe he’ll be in yours, but either way you’ll definitely be with Minho and not with him. He wishes once again that he would’ve never taken you to that stupid game night. He thinks about how he lost his chance as he watches you full of joy with a man who is giving you everything you’ve ever asked for.

---

You luckily were able to get Minho home safely and stayed the night at his place to make sure he was taken care of. You wake up to the smell of him making breakfast, and you walk into the kitchen absolutely gobsmacked at how normal and not hungover he seems. 

“I don’t understand how you just never suffer the consequences of your actions.”

“Someone up there really wants me to make you breakfast without being hungover- I don’t know what to say,” he laughs before turning to kiss you on the forehead. “How’d you sleep, gorgeous?" 

Everything is so domestic with him. It just works. So why does it feel like something’s wrong? All of a sudden you’re hit with so much emotion, and you start crying in Minho’s kitchen. 

“Whoa, are you okay? What's wrong? What did I say?” he asks, concerned, pulling you in for a hug.

You start crying harder because it’s not Minho’s fault, and it could never be Minho’s fault. All this time, you’ve been repressing your emotions, and this is how they boil over. Over a forehead kiss from the sweetest, hottest, best man because you know you can never truly belong to him. 

“It's Chan, isn’t it?”

“Wha- huh?” you look up and Minho isn’t mad or angry, but he gives you a look of compassion and understanding.

“I mean, it is Chan, right- like it’s not Hyunjin or Changbin or something? I’d be pissed if it was either of them,” he shakes his head, keeping his arms around you.

“Minho, I'm so sorry. I really do like you- I just- I'm a mess, and I thought I was over Chan and being with you made me feel like I could get over him, but it wasn’t fair to you- and it didn’t even help-” you cry a few more tears into his chest before looking back up at him, “How did you know?”

“If I’m being honest… I knew from the day I met you. That’s why I had to double check you two weren’t dating. You looked at each other with stars in your eyes. I'm definitely interested in you, but it was clear to me that something was going on between you two, and that I, more than likely, wouldn't be able to tie you down.”

“I’m sorry, Minho. I’m so sorry. I mean, I know I have feelings for Chan but I doubt he feels that way about me-”

“Oh. He definitely does. He has not been able to stop staring at me like he wants to rip my head off in class. He’s definitely jealous,” he laughs

“Yeah, but jealousy doesn’t need to involve feelings,” you retort.

“Trust me, it does. I've known Chan for a while, and he has never been so upset or jealous over someone. And he has never targeted that jealousy at me. Not to be crass, but… we’ve sort of shared before.”

Your jaw drops. “WHAT? What do you mean shared??”

“Why? Are you interested?” he smirks. 

“Minho,” you deadpan (though you definitely are interested, but that’s not the priority right now). 

“I mean that we have actually shared… you know, been in the same bed? Tunnel buddies? Crossing streams? But we’ve also found out that we slept with the same people and sort of… compared notes once we realized.”

“Ugh, Minho, ew! Why would you do that?”

“Listen, it was just out of curiosity! In my defense, I am not typically interested in relationships and usually just sleep around. And also to be fair, we only compared like twice, okay?? But regardless, we have shared and also slept with the same people, and he has never had an issue with me going for anyone he’s ever slept with.”

“Okay…” you respond, skeptical.

“Okay. So that means you’re special, duh” he rolls his eyes.

“Minho, I just really don’t think that Christopher Chan Bang likes me the way you think he does.”

“I don’t think he likes you. I know that he loves you, but I think I know a way to help you out and prove it,” he says with a mischievous smile.

“What are you going to do?”

---

Another day, another party. Chan shows up with Felix and looks around the room, not really interested in seeing anyone but you. He's really hoping you’re not near Minho right now- but well, there’s Minho, surrounded by their group of friends, and he looks awfully smug. 

“Dude, I can’t believe you’ve been playing them this whole time! It looked so real,” Jeongin looks incredulous. 

“Wait, but do you think I have a chance? What was it like?” Changbin asked, desperate to know more.

Minho sees Chan come up and says, “They tasted so good,” provoking the already annoyed older man. “No wonder you kept Y/N around for so long,” he says, now making direct eye contact with Chan, “but they just never. stop. yapping. Like sometimes, I just want to stick my dick in their mouth to get them to shut up.” 

Jisung knows that these aren’t Minho’s real feelings at all and is very confused as to why Minho would say these things in front of his friends. He’s ready to stand up for you when he sees the look on Chan’s face and suddenly understands what’s going on.

Chan is fuming. He can’t believe his ears. This is the guy you chose over him? This is the guy that’s going to sleep in your bed every night? He’s fighting every urge to rip Minho’s head off until Minho makes a pointed comment:

“That’s all Y/N’s good for. Am I right, Chan?”

Chan is not in control of his body when he swings at Minho’s face, hitting him square on the nose. Felix and Jisung have to physically pull Chan away as he continues to try to swing at him.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Minho screams.

“Y/N’s too good for you-” he hisses, thrashing against Felix and Jisung.

“Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it?”

“Fucking- let go of me!” he pushes the younger boys off and storms off.

There is only one thing he can focus on right now: finding you. He sees you off in another corner of the frat playing beer pong with Hyunjin by your side and fights the urge to punch another one of his friends for being within 2 feet of you.

“I need to talk to you-” he grabs your arm, dragging you away from the game.

“Wait, I was playinggg,” you whine.

“Don’t care.”

“Where are we going?” you ask, now extremely confused.

You finally make it to one of the bedrooms, looking around at the decor, this must be Felix’s room if the gaming setup is telling you anything.

“I'm with Minho,” you say indignantly as a reminder to Chan, knowing full well you aren't with Minho. His plan must have worked if Chan is in such a fuss over needing to talk to you.

“He’s a bitch, and you need to break it off with him.”

“Um… are you going to elaborate? You being pissed that I’m not fucking you anymore is not a good enough reason to end things with Minho.”

“He doesn’t give a shit about you, Y/N!” he responds, frustrated that you aren’t listening.

“Oh and you do? You haven’t even talked to me since I ended things with you, Chris!”

This is it. He’s going to say it, and it is in fact even scarier than he could have ever imagined.

“Yes, actually, I do- I’m in love with you and I give every shit about you and you’re the only person or thing in the world that I actually give a shit about!” he almost screams.

He sits down on the bed, unable to deal with the silence as you stand there shocked. You heavily doubted but thought maybe he harboured some romantic feelings for you, similar to a crush. Love? That is not what you were prepared for.

“I’m sorry he just- he talked about you like you were a piece of meat… and- and he’s not good enough for you! And I know I'm not either but… please,” he says, not even knowing what he’s asking for, “Just- please. I’m sorry it took me so long and I know it doesn’t seem genuine because of everything that’s happened but-” He stands up and takes your hands in his.

“I promise that I have felt like this the whole time. Since meeting you on that stupid vacation, I have not been able to control how I feel about you, and when we started sleeping together- it was like I was in heaven. But I was scared of losing you. Minho coming into the picture scared my ass into taking action after realizing how close I was to actually losing you. I promise I love you even if you don’t love me… and even if you don’t love me, please don’t be with him because he-” you kiss him to end his little rant. 

Having his mouth against you again is better than anything you could’ve imagined. He’s hesitant at first, completely shocked at what’s happening, but immediately, he’s kissing you harder than he ever has. You can feel the desperation and every built up emotion he’s been holding back. Not even fireworks are enough to describe the atomic explosions going on inside you.

“Huh?” he says, completely dazed after you break apart, “Um, what was that? I-uh, I thought you were with Minho.”

“I’m not, actually,” you smile awkwardly.

“Bro, wh- what do you mean?” he asks, completely disoriented.

“Minho and I aren't together, and he was convinced that you had real feelings for me but I didn't believe him, so-”

“So, he said something that would make me want to punch him in the face,” he sighs.

“You punched him in the face??” you stop, your eyes wide.

“He was asking for it, quite literally, if what you’re telling me is true.”

“Oh wow. I really owe him big time.”

“Ummm… I don’t think you owe him anything. In fact, maybe you just never perceive Minho ever again. Sound like a good plan? I sure think so,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“So… does this mean you have feelings for me? Real feelings?”

“Yes, dummy!” you say, nudging his shoulder, “I thought that would’ve been clear to you- you’re the one that was always out of reach.”

“I know, I know. It was like I was trying to avoid my real feelings for you and ended up self sabotaging.”

“How about now?” you ask softly, “Are you still trying to avoid your feelings?”

“Are you joking? There is absolutely no way to deny it anymore- I just punched my friend! Oh my god, I just punched my friend,” Chan repeats, in shock at the realization of what just happened. 

“It’s fine, I'm sure he’ll forgive you. I'll put in a good word for you,” you joke.

“Actually, executive decision- starting now, you can never see any of my friends ever again, you’re too hot.”

“What? They’re literally my friends now!” you argue.

“I don’t care! They think you’re hot, and now after Minho’s little stunt, they know you taste good.”

“They know WHAT?”

“Let's not think about that right now. I'm going to make love to my baby without any interruptions,” he says, tugging your hips to be flush against his.

“Oh? Your baby huh? I don’t remember you asking me to be in a relationship,” you tease.

“Baby, beautiful, love of my life, will you please let me be your boyfriend?”

“I guess,” you sigh, pretending not to care before pushing him on the bed and straddling him. “This has been a long time coming, Channie. I can't believe you made me wait so long,” you say grinding down on him. “That's not very fair to me, huh?”

Chan is unable to think, feeling you rub against him for the first time in a long time. God, he’s missed you.

“Now tell me. Do you have a condom?” 

“Wait, why would I need a condom?” he sits up, confused, way too distracted by how good you feel against him. 

“Chan, I know you’ve been sleeping with other people,” you stop your maneuvering on his lap, anticipating an argument.

He whines, “No, baby, I haven't.”

He's tried to fuck other people, but he hasn’t been able to follow through with sleeping with anyone since you left. 

“I wasn’t able to stop thinking about you. There was no interest for me. I couldn’t fuck someone else even if I tried.”

“But- you had girls on your lap and you’d take girls upstairs?”

“That was like one time, and it was just to make you jealous” he sinks. “I never did anything with her. I couldn't. She wasn’t you…” he trails off, looking embarrassed. 

“Look at me, and tell me you didn’t sleep with anyone else.”

“I didn’t sleep with anyone else, my love. I couldn't. I only want you. I have always only wanted you. I love you.”

Finally.

You kiss him, and it’s the explosions all over again, but it’s even more emotion-filled this time. You were ready to experience what you always have: a passion filled desperate kiss. However, that isn’t the kiss you get. You can feel the love through the softness in the way he kisses you. He really wasn’t lying when he said he was going to make love to you. This lovestruck boy is going to make up for lost time. 

He gently takes you off his lap, making you stand up, so that he can get you completely naked before laying you down. He moves his lips down to your jaw, kissing down to your neck and shoulder. He removes your shirt and leaves your torso completely bare before continuing to kiss down your body. He’s on his knees when he takes your bottoms off and looks at you in awe.

“God, I’ve missed this.”

He spreads your legs and kitten licks at your slit, immediately groaning at the taste he has craved for weeks. You’re so wet and he’s barely started touching you. You whine, and he realizes that keeping you standing is probably not ideal for what he’s trying to do. He gently lays you down, kissing you softly once again before going back to where you need him most. He doesn’t lick lightly this time, and he immediately captures your clit in his mouth. He begins to eat you like a man starved, as if he’s in a desert, and you are the last glass of water. The man cannot get enough of you, messily making out with your cunt, groaning and making the dirtiest sounds. You can hear how wet you are from the squelching sounds he’s making and if it wasn’t for how insanely good it feels, you might feel embarrassed. Chan has never eaten you out like this- it’s something you didn’t even know was possible from him. He almost never went down on you before, but now it’s like he needs your pussy to survive.

Chris cannot get enough of you. He is so lost in your cunt that he doesn’t realize that you’re telling him you’re close. You start grinding against his face chasing your high, and he decides to help the process by harshly sucking on your clit. You throw your head back and swear you see stars because you’ve never cum so hard from head before. You have to pull on Chan’s hair to get his head away from your core, and when you do, his face is covered in your slick. The way he looks at you is completely animalistic and it takes everything in him to not go right back into eating you out.

“Daddy, I need you- please,” you beg, as he moves his hands up and down your thighs, wanting to feel and caress all of you.

“Sweetheart, I have been thinking for weeks nonstop about how I needed to taste you again. You can give me one more orgasm, right? You’re gonna let me stretch you out on my fingers and tongue fuck that pretty pussy, right?”

You almost whine, but he’s never been so eager to go down on you. As much as you’ve missed his cock, this new side of Chan is turning you on so much. He sees the look on your face and knows you’re giving in, causing him to dive right back in. His digits slide into you with ease, slick from your first orgasm. Your walls are already clenching around his fingers, sensitive and still reeling from cumming so hard. It turns him on so much- he starts moaning into your pussy. Chan is so desperate to rip another orgasm out of you before finally getting to feel you around his cock.

“God, yes, just like that, Daddy,” you writhe underneath him, already close.

“Play with your tits for me, baby-”

You tweak your nipples, arching your back, but Chan presses his hand onto your lower abdomen, making the sensations even more overwhelming. Chan’s fingers curl perfectly against your g-spot and your whole body feels like it’s on fire. This orgasm feels like it’s radiating even more than the last one. He eats you through your high, not stopping until you’re pushing him away. 

“How was that?” he checks in, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Are you okay? Do you still want me inside you, baby?” “Yes, Chris, please- need to feel you,” you pout.

He immediately gets up and gets naked as fast as is physically possible.

“How do you want me?” you ask, still fuzzy from your two intense orgasms. He puts you in missionary, without answering, before lining himself up with your hole.

“I’m not going to last very long, sweetie. Eating you out nearly made me cum untouched.” You almost moan at this admission. “Wanna look at you when I fill you up with my cum,” your boyfriend states. 

He thrusts in, filling you to the brim, and both of your mouths fall open into a gasp. The sensation is so overwhelming, you can hardly breathe. 

“Baby- please,” you beg, needing him to move. 

“Feels so fucking good, pretty,” he grunts.

He begins to slowly thrust in you and bends down to attach his lips to yours. Once your lips smash together, he begins to roughly and desperately ram his hips into yours as he chases his high. Chan keeps his lips on yours, swallowing all your moans. He slightly changes the angle and his tip begins to hit your sweet spot, already bringing you close to cumming again. Chan can tell from the way that you’re sucking him in that you’re going to cum with him, and he needs just one thing from you.

“Tell me you love me,” he pleads, eyebrows scrunched together in pleasure. He’s so close, and he needs these 3 words from you to tip him over the edge.

“I love you, Chan. I love you I love you I love you,” you moan, not stopping. I love yous flow out of your mouth in every breath and soon Chan is filling you up, the sensation ripping one last orgasm out of you.

Chan pulls out of you, not caring about the mess that would definitely be left on his cousin’s bed. The two of you lay there, panting messes. He feels like he’s dreaming, and he’s in disbelief that he has you back. Upon the realization, Chan immediately wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck and squeezing you.

“What are you doing?” you laugh. He responds but it’s muffled. “Channie, I can't hear a thing you’re saying.”

“I’m just so happy to have you back and so happy that I get to be your boyfriend,” he responds looking up at you, and would you look at that- he has stars in his eyes.

---

It's the first game night since you started dating Chan seriously. 

“Babe, do we have to go?” your boyfriend groans, sitting on your bed. He’s looking at you through the mirror as you get ready for a return to the friend group. He has made it a point to walk you to every class since you became official, and he told you it was to make sure you know he’s proud to be your boyfriend. (But if you actually ask him, he did it so that none of his friends would be able to talk to you for more than 30 seconds.)

“Yes, of course we have to. Literally, everyone has been asking for us to go. We’ve missed 3 weeks already.”

“Yes, but everyone includes people who want to fuck you, and that’s not really people I want to be around,” he whines.

“Channie. They don’t all want to fuck me.”

-

“Thanks a lot, Minho. You could’ve let us know they were gonna end up together, so we could’ve had a shot before it happened,” Hyunjin groans.

“Listen, I would've, except I think that it’s way funnier to watch you thirst for Y/N from afar,” he laughs.

“Do you think Chan would be down to share one time for the one time?” Changbin asks.

“Listen… never say never, but if anyone is going to convince him first, it’s going to be me,” Minho winks before walking up to greet you and Chan.

“Hi, Y/Nie!” he says, giving you a big hug that lasts longer than Chan would like.

“Hi Minho,” you smile.

“I hope you know that everyone here wants to fuck you,” the mischievous purple-haired boy loudly whispers.

You slap him on the shoulder, “And whose fault is that?”

“Listen, I wasn’t going to lie about my personal experience at the Y/N establishment,” he says, hands up.

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to say all that. Now everyone knows how they taste,” Chan butts in, grumbling.

“Well listen, I have to keep you on your toes, Bang Chan. Now you know that if you slip up, Y/N has several guys waiting desperately to swoop in and save the day.”

“And now you know,” Minho says looking at you now, “if he ever fucks up, I can fuck you real good and make you forget all about it.”

“We’re going to go now,” Chan says, dragging you away. “I told you they all want to fuck you-” he groans.

“Okay, I didn’t think it would be this bad. Lucky for you, I’m ending up in your bed tonight and every night til you get sick of me.”

“Lucky for me, that’s never going to happen,” he says, giving you a wet sloppy kiss.

----------

a/n: lol it only took me a year to complete pt 2. sorry! since the first part was based on my real life it was hard to decide where part 2 should go. this was genuinely like a therapeutic exercise lol i wasn’t sure if i wanted the mc to end up with chan or minho because i wasn’t sure what made the most sense. i ended up choosing chan over minho because i thought that might be the best idea for what most people would want. plus i think creating a story where the person does change and does become the guy you deserve is very sweet and hopeful. while in real life i think the minho character makes more sense, i think chan being endgame is romantic. i also SUCK at writing smut i think i just don’t have the creativity for it- it was SO HARD however i did entertain the idea of writing a side bit where chan actually does allow minho/hyunjin/changbin a shot to sleep with y/n because i love 3some/4some/5somes hahahah but anyway thanks for reading this far i hope you have/are having a beautiful day!! <3

[weirdsht]

I have this random idea and I neeed to yap about it here lmaoo

I'm just thinking about krs taking care of a teen around locks age, he met them at some point of the apocalypse and decided to take them under his wing.

let's say they transmigrated together or reader a bit after krs, but they meet at some point in the novel, anyways bc krs!cale took care of them for a good 3-4 years before the transmigration he subconsciously does the things he did before without noticing.

another random thing that came to mind:

idk someone: "wow young master, you really know this kid"

cale: "I hope i do i took care of them for a good 3 years"

random person: "when???"

ignore how this might not make sense storywise and probably characterwise, I'm really sleepy 🙏

Homecoming - Cale & Teen! Reader

a/n: i want to write more but my brain is all out of creative juices because almost all of my profs are making us write essays every day. not to mention that directing thingy i need to do for that stupid uni short film

tags: fluff, platonic, reader is unhinge if you squint, gn!reader

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Requests are open and welcome

Navigation Masterlist

“...What are you doing here?”

That was the first thing Cale asked you as soon as he saw you.

“And you are..?”

Was your question to respond to his question.

Because why is this random nobleman talking to you as if he knew you? Sure he reminds you a bit of Kim Rok Soo but still.

This guy is essentially a stranger and your big brother Rok Soo has taught you stranger-danger.

You can see the redhead sigh before pushing his hair back with his left hand. There’s a look of fondness and frustration in his eyes, another thing that reminds you of your big brother.

Kim Rok Soo wasn’t actually your big brother biologically speaking. Both of you were orphans who found each other in the middle of a ruined world. Two abandoned people who found solace within each other. 

You quite literally tripped into Rok Soo’s life a few months after he became a team leader.

The same way how you literally tripped into this weird noble’s porch. 

Speaking of which, that said noble is now telling everyone to give the two of you some privacy. He even asked the cute baby dragon to put a soundproof barrier around the room.

“Are you doing that to mask my screams when you kill me?”

You couldn’t help but ask once everyone was out of the room. Rok Soo had always told you about not letting your impulsive thoughts win but you couldn’t help it.

Cale sighed loudly and tiredly, exactly the same reaction your Rok Soo would do when you said something stupid.

“No I’m not gonna kill you, and no I’m not going to eat you either so don’t even ask.”

You clamped your mouth shut after that. The question dying on your tongue before you could even ask it.

“I’m going explain myself and then you’ll do the same okay?”

You nodded seeing as you don’t really have a choice. You’re in this guy’s turf and there’s no way you can outrun a dragon and whatever monster of a people this guy has with him. And so you behaved yourself and settled on the plush couch you were escorted to.

“My name is Cale Henituse, or at least that’s my current name. I used to be Kim Rok Soo back on Earth before I died.”

…okay what?

What now?

He was who?

Kim Rok Soo— well you guess he goes by Cale now — knows you well enough to know that this information would cause your brain to overdrive. And so he has a glass of iced water prepared for your poor self to drink.

“Wha- how- huh?”

You tried to formulate words after gulping the water but your mind is still reeling. There’s simply no comprehending this new information bought upon you.

But it’s fine since Cale is willing to wait for you to come around.

Even after 3 weeks of waiting, his still very patient.

He knows when to give you space, but also knows when to spend time with you. Cale knows exactly when you need him to be there for you and when your mind is confused about him being a stranger but also being the big brother you dearly love.

Of course, this raised some questions with the others. Cale suddenly took in another teen one day and he seemed to have known them all his life even though he just met them 3 weeks ago.

“Young master you seem to really know that kid.”

Hans asked one day. In a short distance, Ron was also listening in while dusting some decorative vases.

"I hope I do, I took care of them for a good 3 years."

Was Cale’s nonchalant answer before leaving the room in order to go to your bedroom. He had promised you that he’ll let you wander around the forest today after all. 

Meanwhile, the two servants are flabbergasted — Ron was just hiding it better than Hans.

“...3 years? How did he hide from us that he took care of a child, an entire human being, for three whole years??”

Hans asked and the only answer he got was the dust from Ron’s feather duster flying towards his face.

[roseganymede95]

WIP Word Train! (Again!)

Rules: tagger gives a word, then for each letter of that word you share a sentence/excerpt from your wips that start with that letter.

Tagged by @fairandfatalasfair, the word is SCARY

These are all from the post-canon fic because that's basically all I've been working on lately.

S - “She apparently knows where the office is,” Charles says. He pulls Edwin into the sitting area and points him at the largest bookshelf. “So we’re packing our shit and getting away from the office until we know more. Go on, grab the books you want to have with us.” 

C - Christ alive, has he been like this the whole time? Now that he’s aware of it, hardly a single conversation goes by when he doesn’t catch himself chucking flattery and winks and innocent insinuations at Edwin.

A - At first, it was just nice. Having Crystal around made Charles feel alive, almost. Like a real sixteen-year-old with a future, rather than a bundle of decades-old bones buried in a church yard.

R - “Right, so, ever since I met Gertie I’ve been coming back to keep up ties with the neighborhood cats once or twice a year,” Charles explains. “And I obviously talk about you when I come by, because what else am I gonna talk about? So I’ve been bragging about you since before this lot’s parents were born. You’re kind of a legend around here. Can’t blame them for being excited to meet you.”

Y - “You don’t understand,” says Crystal despairingly. “He’s a good person. He deserves nice things. If I were a good person, I would want nice things for him. But I’m an awful person, so instead I just want to hog him all to myself forever, even though I won’t actually date him.”

Thanks for tagging me! I now summon @williamvapespeare and @tumblerislovetumblerislife and challenge them with the word CRIME.

(Also if you fine folks ask nicely I'll tell you the title of the new fic!)

[crowsofdarkness]

Just For Tonight: Part One

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Content Warnings: 18+ smut which includes spanking, voyeurism, oral with male receiving, protected p in v with reader being on birth control, anal, and m/f/m relations.

Summary: Steve lets you live out your secret fantasy. Just for tonight.

Authors Note: This is basically porn with some plot. Part Two will be posted later. Enjoy!

Tags: @that-blonde-girl @bookofriverr

-this is not connected to my other Stucky fic Ménage a Trios-

PART TWO

“You’re such a little brat,” Steve stumbled into his bedroom with me attached on his lips. 

My hand worked at the buttons of his jacket, trying to get it off, but he smacked them away. 

“Steve,” I whined, my pussy clenching around nothing. 

His hair wasslicked but he blew away a few loose strands. There was a darkness in his eyes, something I didn’t recognize, and for a brief moment it scared me. 

“You’ve been riling me up all night knowing I can’t do anything about it. Then when I finally think we’re going to fuck, you stop and talk to an old friend for twenty minutes,” I angrily gruffed while crossing my arms over my chest.

Steve cocked his head to the side, those eyes glazing over the pout of my bottom lip before glancing over my shoulder briefly. 

“Haven’t you learned anything? Don’t you want to be a good girl for me, Y/N?” 

I gulped loud in the quiet darkness of his bedroom, knowing that whatever I was in for tonight wouldn’t be good. 

Not like I would complain. 

“Take it off,” he plucked at the strap of my dress. 

I quickly shimmed out of it, letting the silky material pool at my feet. Steve’s hungry eyes raked over my bare chest and pebbled nipples, licking his lips ever so slowly. He closed the distance between us, engulfing me in a feverious kiss that was filled with biting lips and crashing teeth. His tongue devoured every inch of my mouth, reveling in the taste of my drink earlier. I scratched and clawed at his shirt, wishing he would take it off so I could graze my teeth over every inch of skin. 

“You’re such a pretty little thing,” Steve bit along my jawline, down to my neck as his fingers worked circles on my clit.

I hissed in pleasure, trying to remove his clothing while I stood bare for him.

“I’m fucking tired of all the teasing, Steve,” I grumbled and began working on his belt.

The sound of skin on skin echoed in the room and I cried out in ecstasy when he slapped my ass again.

“I’m tired of you being a brat. Get on your knees,” his eyes darkened.

I stood tall to him, not backing down with a wicked smirk on my face.

“No.”

Through the darkness of his bedroom, only cast in the ever-growing light of the moon, Steve stepped back into the shadows with a playful gleam in his eye as a darker voice sounded from the corner of the room. My shoulders went stiff as the smirk was wiped off my face, knowing exactly who that voice belonged to.

“You heard him, doll. Get on your fucking knees.”

I blinked rapidly, trying to gather my bearings as I turned slowly towards the voice, now seeing the figure sitting in the corner of Steve’s bedroom. His ankle was crossed over to his other knee, tattooed hands resting on the arms of the chair. 

“B-Bucky,” you gulped. “How long have you been sitting there?” 

A soft click echoed in the room and it was soon bathed in an orange glow thanks to him turning on the lamp next to him. I sucked in a breath at the sight before me. 

Bucky was still dressed in his party clothes and his hair somehow managed to stay perfectly combed back from when I last talked with him last on the couch less than an hour ago. 

There was a typical monthly party at the Avengers Tower and even though I’d been glued to Steve’s hip all night, I found myself slipping away to talk to Bucky. 

“Wait,” I turned back to Steve. “Did you two plan this?” 

He gently cupped my cheek and left a chaste kiss on my lips. “I see the way you look at him, Y/N. How your eyes linger when he walks away.” 

My lips parted to speak but felt a swift smack to my ass. 

“Don’t lie,” Steve clicked his tongue. “It’s clear you want him to fuck you.”

“Steve,” I breathed, trying to figure out what to say. 

It was futile though because it was true. 

While I loved Steve with every part of my soul, lately I couldn’t ignore the way my heart leaped into my throat when Bucky walked into a room. It wasn’t always like this, I’d grown up with both of them. But recently, as Bucky started becoming healthier and growing into the man that sat before me, something in my brain kept telling me to let my gaze linger a while longer than what’s deemed normal for someone who was in a relationship. 

“I know what happened in the kitchen,” Steve chuckled. 

My head snapped back to Bucky, anger radiating off of me in waves. “You told him?” 

He tried to wipe the smirk off of his face, failing miserably. “I don’t keep secrets from Steve.”

It felt as if a weight had pulled down my stomach when I remembered what happened in the kitchen three nights ago. 

Tiptoeing down the stairs quietly in fear of waking up the rest of the house, I pulled on the bottom of Steve' shirt hoping it would cover my ass. Unfortunately it didn't and part of my yellow panties peaked through the end of it. 

“Just a quick snack,” I muttered into the dark air, reaching for the fridge. 

“Did you want some popcorn?” 

Screaming, I whirled around to see Bucky sitting at the kitchen table, lit up by the faint light of his phone. He extended a bowl of popcorn towards me. 

“What the fuck!” I held a hand to my racing heart. “You scared the shit out of me, Bucky!” 

Chuckling, he rose from the table to slowly stalk over to me. “Steve asleep?” 

I raised a brow. “Yeah, why?” 

Bucky shrugged before running a hand through his long hair and I did my best not to gawk at his bare chest. 

“My room is next to his and you’re not exactly quiet,” he said while standing in front me, towering over with his tall frame. 

Heat rose to my cheeks when I realized exactly what he was talking about. 

“Uh,” I pulled down the end of my shirt, hoping to cover my ass. “Sorry. Sometimes I don’t even realize how loud I can be.”

He hummed, the noise vibrating in his chest, and his vibranium fingers swiftly brushed over the heated skin of my thigh. 

“Don’t apologize, Y/N. I liked what I heard.” 

My gaze flashed down to his cock when I felt it brush up against my thigh, feeling exactly how much he liked what he had heard. Every part of me ignited with a burning desire that seemed to only be lit when Bucky was around. The guilt wouldn’t stop eating away at me though because I knew it was wrong to feel this way, especially because Steve also made me feel the same. 

I loved Steve so much, I saw a future with him. We’d been together for years. 

But the prospect of something new lingered on my mind for quite some time and the more I tried to ignore it, the harder it became to tell myself I didn’t want Bucky as well. 

“Bucky,” I breathed as my eyes fluttered shut. 

His fingers grazed up the skin of my thigh, burrowing up the shirt so they could rest on my hips. His warm breath tickled the side of my neck as he breathed me in deep. I didn’t push him away, I let his lips graze over the purple marks Steve left earlier and my fingers wrapped around his thick biceps. My nails dug into the skin, claiming what wasn’t mine. 

“Yellow is your color, doll,” he ghosted over my lips before stalking out of the kitchen, leaving me in a pool of my own desire. 

“It wasn’t anything,” I tried to tell Steve, hoping he would understand. 

With his hand still resting on my cheek, he grazed his thumb just underneath my eye. 

“It’s alright, honey,” he reassured you with another kiss. “I talked with Bucky and I have something to run by you.”

A sudden chill brushed over me, causing my nipples to peak. 

“What is it?” 

Bucky spoke next, still sitting in the chair in the corner of Steve’s room. “One night. You can have the both of us for one night.”

I nearly choked on my spit when I realized my darkest desire was about to come true. 

“You’re joking, right? This is some kind of prank?” I asked Steve. 

He sternly shook his head. “It’s the truth, Y/N. As long as you agree, you can have Bucky either along with me or just him. Just for tonight.” 

My jaw fell to the floor in shock. There was absolutely no way that Steve was being serious. The second I touched Bucky, would he freak out and break up with me? 

“How do we expect things to go back to normal after tonight? You can’t possibly think we’ll all forget this happened,” I snorted. 

“Doll.” 

Turning my head towards Bucky, he beckoned me over with a crooked finger but I was still unable to move. I felt Steve slink up behind me, his hands trailing up my stomach. 

“It’s alright, honey,” he whispered. 

Swallowing thickly, I took a step towards Bucky but he sharply shook his head. 

“Crawl.”

Heat shot straight down to my core, that fire igniting as I slowly dropped to my knees so I could crawl over to him. His ocean eyes were blown wide as they tracked my every movement until I stopped in front of him. 

“I need you to agree, doll,” he said, body vibrating with adrenaline. 

I threw a look over my shoulder at Steve who had sat on the edge of the bed resting his elbows on his knees. He gave me another reassuring nod so I looked back to Bucky. 

“Yes,” I breathed. 

The pale skin his neck bobbed slightly as he swallowed. “Take my cock out and stroke it.” 

Fucking finally. 

My hands worked quickly to undo the button and zipper on Bucky’s pants and I gasped when I noticed how hard his cock was in the confines of his briefs. 

“Do you see what you do to me?” He groaned while his cock sprang free.

I licked my lips at the sight of precum that beaded at the head of his cock; so pretty and pink. 

While Steve’ was a bit shorter and thicker, Bucky’s was longer and had a vein that ran underneath. It looked angry, like he’d been fighting a boner all night long. My hand worked up and down, squeezing every so often as I went, and Bucky’s head fell back against the chair. 

“Fuck,” his jaw went slack when my mouth began to take all of him. 

His hands found my hair, keeping me locked in place as he fucked into my throat. My feet dug into the carpet trying to keep myself locked in place and my nails dug into his clothed thighs. 

“Easy, Bucky,” Steve warned. 

“She can take it. Can’t ya, doll?” Bucky’s one hand cupped my cheek, working out the tightness. 

I nodded, urging him to keep going with a pat to his thigh. 

Now he didn’t hold back, rising up from the chair as he fucked the back of my throat all while keeping my head in place. 

“Shit,” he cursed. 

Opening my eyes, I glanced up at him with tears, begging him to keep going. 

“Beautiful,” he mused while holding his arms out wide moments before I felt his warm seed shoot down the back of my throat. 

I hummed in such delicious delight, swallowing all of him, before falling back to my knees and wiped the drool with the back of my hand. Bucky was still slumped in the chair, breathless, and I dared a glance over to Steve to see that he was gripping the blanket tightly. I feared that maybe he was angry with what happened but realized he, in fact, loved what he saw because I could tell how hard his dick was underneath his pants. 

Large hands gripped me from my armpits and forced me to sit on a lap, Bucky’s warm breath fanning over the back of my neck. He spread my legs wide, giving Steve a preview of how wet I was between them. 

“Do you want to be a good girl and give him a show?”

I nodded to Steve. “Can I?” 

He palmed his dick. “Of course, honey. I want to see you fall apart.” 

“Touch yourself,” Bucky rasped while biting my ear. 

Moaning out in pleasure, my fingers worked in fast circles against my clit and when Bucky’s cock brushed along my folds, I shivered in his embrace. 

“You want my cock, doll? You’re so fucking needy for it like the slut you are.” 

“Please,” I choked out. “I’ve wanted it for so long.” 

I felt Bucky’s chest rumble underneath me. “Did you hear that, Steve? Your girl has been wanting my cock for a long time.” 

Steve snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know.” 

My entire body was red from not only the heat of my growing orgasm but the fact that these two could read me like a book. Knowing what I wanted before I even knew. 

I jerked, halting my actions slightly, when Bucky pressed himself inside of me. 

“She has an implant,” Steve answered for me when he realized I was too far gone with touching myself that I wouldn’t be able to answer. 

Slowly but all at once, Bucky filled me completely and I groaned out his name. My hips rode against the length of it and my hand, that familiar white haze creeping into all of my senses. 

Unlike how he fucked my throat, Bucky was soft and gentle while dragging his cock in and out of my pussy. 

“So tight,” he bit down on the skin of my shoulder, causing me to cry out in ecstasy. 

“I’m so close,” I panted, fingers working even faster. 

Grunting filled my ears and through lidded eyes, I watched as Steve pumped his cock desperately trying to chase his own release. The sight of me being speared open by Bucky’s cock drove him wild, his hair no longer slicked back. 

A hand turned my face and now I was staring at Bucky, whose eyes glanced down to my lips; a silent question. 

“Please,” I sighed. 

His lips tasted different than Steve’s. They were softer, more plump and the few hairs that peppered around his mouth tickled my skin as our tongues danced slowly together, getting used to each other. 

Without warning, my orgasm tore through me violently and I screamed my release into Bucky’s mouth. His cock twitched inside of me before I felt that familiar feeling coating my insides, spilling onto my thigh and his pants. 

“Fucking hell, doll,” Bucky tried to catch his breath and wrapped his arms tighter around me. 

Steve halted his grip on his cock to lift me off of Bucky, tossing me onto the bed. I was exhausted but knew we were only just getting started. 

“I need you now, honey.” Steve made quick work of discarding all of his clothes. “Is that alright?” 

I reached out for his hand, pulling him down on top of me. “Please, Stevie.” 

His eyes fluttered shut at my nickname for him and then he lined his cock up with my pussy. “I won’t last long. Seeing you on Bucky’s cock nearly tipped me over the edge.” 

I ran a hand through his long hair and gave a lazy smile. “It’s alright.” 

The vast difference between the two men was evident as Steve’ cock filled me. His pace was erratic, him pulling my knees to my chest so he can fuck into me even deeper. 

The bed creaked beneath us, the headboard slamming into the wall, and Bucky chuckled from his corner of the room. 

“This is what I would hear every fucking night. Imagining this scene in front of me; although seeing now, it’s much better than what I thought,” Bucky said. 

I turned my head towards him, watching as he slowly rose from the chair to toss his clothes to the growing pile on the floor.

“Holy shit,” I mused at the sight in front of me. 

Bucky was like a god, as well as Steve. A pair of super soldiers. The muscles of Bucky’s stomach constricted as he began lazily stroking his cock. I held out a hand, inviting him over to us. He was too far away, I needed to feel his body heat against me again.

“Honey?” Steve whined in my ear, causing my attention to snap back to him. “I can’t hold on.” 

I pressed a kiss to his lips. “Cum for me, Stevie. It’s alright.” 

I knew he wanted to try and bring me to another orgasm and felt bad. But I reassured him it was alright and soon felt himself spill inside of me; his cum mixing with Bucky’s. 

Spent, he fell to the bed beside me and I gazed tiredly up at the ceiling, noticing all the faint hairline cracks that ran along it. The bed dipped at my feet and I felt Bucky’s long vibranium fingers gather the cum that started to run down my legs, forcing it back inside of me. 

“We can’t have this go to waste, doll,” he pressed a kiss to the inside of my knee. 

“Bucky,” I whined when he slipped in another finger. “I don't think-.” 

“You can. I know you can,” his voice was gone, taken by the lust that consumed him. 

Steve rose from the bed to help Bucky position me on my knees. Bucky then slipped underneath while Steve knelt behind me. His finger grazed over my puckered hole and I shivered. 

We’d only have done anal a few times, more recently the last few days. It was then that I realized he was preparing me for this moment. 

“Stevie,” my head fell against his shoulder. 

He kissed me long and slow, savioring how I faintly tasted like Bucky. 

“You can back out if you want,” he reminded me. 

I shook my head. “No, I want this.” 

I then looked down to Bucky, who gave me a warm smile. “I want both of you.”

It took a bit of finessing but we managed to get a perfect position as I slowly sank down on Bucky’s cock. Steve then pushed me over so my breasts could press against Bucky’s chest. His arms held me in place while Steve gathered some of the cum inside of me, coating his cock with it. 

“Safe word?” He asked. 

I glanced over my shoulder at him, remembering that we came up with one a while ago when we decided to start experimenting sexually. 

“Mercy,” I breathed. “But don’t stop.” 

“Keep her distracted, Bucky,” Steve ordered. 

He did by capturing my lips in a feverish kiss, one that was a fight for dominance and ultimately, he won. My nails scraped along his scalp, causing Bucky to hiss out in pleasure. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long, doll,” he admitted while moving his hips, fucking me all over again. 

I brushed away the sweat sticken hair from his forehead, agreeing with a nod. “I feel the same.” 

Steve left a kiss to the base of my spine. “Ready?” 

I nodded and slowly, the head of his cock began to press inside of my ass and my cries were swallowed by Bucky as he kissed me again. I’d never felt so full in my life and it took me a moment to adjust to having both of their cocks inside of me at the same time. 

“Tell us when, doll,” Bucky’s voice cooed in my ear. 

“Go,” I urged them on. 

After a moment, Steve and Bucky figured out the best rhythm that worked best and my body felt like it was in overdrive. All of my senses were heightened as both of their cocks worked in spreading me wide for them. The room filled with the scent of all three of us, tangling together with the tellings of our ever growing affair. Some might have thought this was wrong but it felt so right; so free. 

This was supposed to be one night and then we would go back to our normal, everyday lives. Bucky would have to watch Steve and I be in love while he received none of that. 

How was that fair to him? 

How was it fair to my heart that always yearned for him?

Bucky’s vibranium fingers wrapped around my throat, his thumb titling my chin up so he can leave bruising marks there with his lips. 

Steve' pace was slow, not wanting to hurt me, while Bucky’s was fast paced and down right ruthless; the perfect mixture that brought me closer and closer to the euphoric release I’d been craving. 

“Doll,” Bucky bit down on the sensitive part of my neck when his second release of the night filled me. 

His body fell limp underneath me but we dared not move, fear of stopping how good Steve felt inside of me. 

“I love you,” Steve panted into the skin of my back. 

“I love you too.” 

My eyes hooked with Bucky’s and for the briefest of moments, I could see something twinkle in them. Our lips met in another kiss and not a few seconds later, both Steve and I let out our releases at the same time. 

The three of us lay in a mess of tangled limbs, me snuggling up in Bucky’s chest while Steve held onto me from behind. I was sticky and wet between my legs but I couldn’t be bothered to clean up. Sleep was beginning to sink its claws into me, desperate to pull me into the darkness with it, until I felt the bed beneath me shift. 

Bucky was getting ready to leave after noticing Steve was asleep, an arm draped over my stomach. But I grabbed onto his arm, stopping Bucky. 

“Where are you going?” 

His ocean eyes motioned to Steve behind me but I pulled him back into bed with us. 

“Y/N,” he breathed. 

“Please stay? For me?” I begged with bright eyes. 

He brushed away a strand of hair from my face and eventually agreed with a gentle kiss to my lips. “Anything for you, doll.” 

None of us knew what this meant but I think we all could agree that we’d be unable to go back to our old lives after this. I’d have to be open to Steve about my feelings for Bucky and I could only hope he’d understand that my heart was big enough to love both of them; equally. 

For now though, I lay with both of them. Feeling both of their heartbeats and skin on mine lull me to the sleep my body was craving. 

[eggscaffolding]

My biggest most secret confession go:

I knew nothing about Supernatural. I was eleven-ish when I was looking through Netflix and I found it, wow!!

I was pretty sheltered so I had no idea it was insanely popular, I just went “wowoahh monster killing fun”

However, my mom was iffy on horror/monster-y things (see above about being sheltered) so I felt as if this was the eighth deadly sin, and hid the fact I was watching it like I would be sent to the stocks or something

Here’s where it actually kicks in.

A while later, I’m still enjoying Supernatural (still unaware of its popularity) and my mom has gotten way more chill

My mother, brother, and I tended to watch an episode or two of a show together as a family each Friday night or something

You might know where this is going

SO IMAGINE MY 11/12 YEAR OLD SURPRISE WHEN

I hear the DREADED, the FEARED, the MOST AWFUL THING POSSIBLE

“Oh this looks fun” and I LOOK UP TO SEE SUPERNATURAL (my mom was ALSO like “woah!!!! killing monsters! Fun!!)

So I’m freaking out but I stay calm

I was built for this

I had years of drama camp under my belt and I was ready to put on the act of my life

And like any logical person, instead of saying ANYTHING about the fact I know it, or even know it exists, I go “yeah sure seems cool” when they ask if we should watch it

THEN

For the next like… FOUR OR FIVE SEASONS??? I watch with them SLOWLY and the ENTIRE TIME I am pretending I have NEVER seen ANY of it and went “oh wow I hope he makes it (😰)” and stuff for the WHOLE TIME

then after a point, I got tired of hiding the fact my Netflix account (which was very much able to be seen by them) was like three seasons ahead, so I told them I just watched ahead on my own account because I wanted to find out what happened next

And THAT is how I explained that away

But wait

It gets BETTER (maybe)

To this day, they still have NO clue that this happened. I have never told them that we did not discover Supernatural as a family, I will never tell them just found it and watched it in secret.

It’s too late to go back and this will be kept to my grave.

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[lavander-galaxy]

man what’s got him so flustered huh

@sonderfairy

[hplonesomeart]

Hey. Sorry about the inactivity, but pretty sure no one cared that much anyways lol. Been a looooong time since I kept that distant from Tumblr…at least now I know I’m able to survive without checking posts every day/being chronically online! I’ve got an intense love-hate relationship with this lifestyle I’ve dug myself into. Think I’m getting a little bit better with the balance even if school isn’t really giving me an option. Got a load of work I need to keep catching up on if I don’t want to disappoint my professors. We’ll survive somehow. Here take a quick batch of Puzzle doodles k bye

[murdleandmarot]

The gang’s all here!! They’re on the case!! And there’s no ghost that they wouldn’t chase!!!!!

@mysticalcats’s Foxglove, @toki-toro’s Chaumet, @emimii’s Clownaire, and my own Bluebelle :)

[stellewriites]

thanks for the tags @dwarvenagenda & @pricegouge !! 💓

it was fun to check my stats for this year :3

funny to compare how i started my year vs how its ending (fandoms im writing for, fic length range, themes and tropes i’m preferring, etc).

i’ve found that although ive maybe written less and had less interaction in general from readers this year i’ve truly found some amazing people that i consider good friends on here now :’) and i wouldn’t swap that for anything!!

blank copy below and npt: @pricetagged @ohlawdthebirds @sentientcave @syoddeye @gloard @wraithdance @buttdumplin @luvrodite @mikichko @lewistoferrari @disgustingtwitches

[suhnflowerstay]

game night pt 2

taglist: @sunnybutcloudy @sofix-hc7 @laziestasitgets @desiree-lee

mark lee x afab!reader, jaemin x afab!reader

wc: 10.9k

tags: toxic situationship vibes, high emotions, light angst, smut, fluff, love triangle

part 1

----------

jaemin: yo so is your friend single

Your eyes open, and Mark’s still not awake. Mark typically wakes up before you do, but your brain was so restless thinking about the text from Jaemin and what it could mean. Mark being deep in sleep has to be a sign, you tell yourself, and your heart starts racing all over again. A large part of you knows that Mark would purposefully sabotage any potential fling with Jaemin over the weird possessiveness he feels and the double standards he holds. Luckily, you both know each other’s phone passcodes. While that knowledge typically leads to arguments and broken hearts, this time it can lead to something good. (for you at least)

In a burst of impulsivity, you grab Mark’s phone and unlock it to reply, acknowledging in your heart that there will be a fight that happens as a result of going through Mark’s phone to give your number to someone else. That, however, is a problem for future you to deal with. 

mark: yeah, y/n’s single why do you ask

You bite your lip, (im)patiently waiting for him to reply, hoping so desperately that he’s also awake right now. To your surprise, the bubble pops up to show that he’s typing, and you internally squeal, looking over to ensure that Mark is still asleep.

jaemin: well after last night, i just couldn’t stop thinking about how y/n’s really funny and so insanely pretty it’s crazy 

jaemin: and i figured if you two aren’t dating, why don’t i give it a try?

Fighting the urge to throw the phone across the room, you send Jaemin your number before setting Mark’s phone back on the nightstand. You already know that when he sees the messages, it’ll start another fight, but by that point, it won’t matter since you just received a text from Jaemin asking how you’re feeling after last night’s drinking.

Mark wakes up an hour or two later and finds the bed empty. He assumes you’re in the living room and groggily reaches for his phone, squinting while trying to read the notifications on his screen. He sees the group chat has been blowing up, and when he opens his messages app, Mark notices something weird. In his thread with Jaemin, your phone number is the last text sent. Mark’s sure he’s not the one who sent that, which means you must have, and he feels sick. He tries to suppress the anxiety rising from the pit of his stomach and opens up the group chat. Where everyone is talking about how hot his friend was. Cool cool cool.

johnny: bro mark

johnny: next time you bring a baddie to game night please give me a heads up

johnny: i was in no way ready to talk to someone who was both hot AND funny

jaehyun: no seriously

jaehyun: i also held myself back because i really thought you two were dating

jaehyun: i didn’t realize i missed my chance until jaemin yelled from across the room asking if you were dating and then whispered dibs

jaemin: you snooze you lose

jaemin: y/n is single but not for long

Mark immediately shoots into panic mode, his worst fears realized. Jaemin is going to ask you out. You’re going to say yes. He’s going to be amazing, and you are going to fall in love with him and get married and have 12 kids and a farm and like puppies and kitties too probably. Okay maybe he’s spiraling but…

How the hell is he supposed to compete with that and what the fuck is he going to do about it?

“You went through my phone and gave Jaemin your number???” Mark storms into the living room.

“Well, good morning to you too,” you say casually, looking back down at your phone to text Jaemin like you’ve been doing since you woke up.

“Are you going to respond at all, dude?!” Mark asks, bewildered, “Why would you text him your number from my phone? What happened to ‘I’m never gonna see him again’?”

“Well… that was before he asked if I was single, and like I told you last night, I am,” you say matter-of-factly.

Mark cannot believe what he’s hearing. His ears are ringing and he feels the blood draining from his body, especially from his face. He's sure he’s about to die because he has no idea what to do, but he knows he has to sabotage it somehow. Maybe he’ll tell all of his friends that you and he are secretly dating or maybe he’ll tell them you have an STI or that you torture animals. One way or another he has to make sure that not a single friend of his wants anything to do with you at all. He wishes so badly he never took you to game night and that they had no idea that you existed.

Three of Mark's most attractive and charming friends all want you, and you’re clearly interested in at least one of them. If you knew the rest of his friends all had some sort of interest in you, would you also be interested in them? He’s spiraling and lost in the fear of what could possibly happen that he doesn't even realize you’re calling out his name. He looks up and he’s now sitting on the couch. How did he get here?

“Mark! Markie, are you okay?” your voice slowly fades in. You look so concerned. Have you always looked so beautiful in the mornings? Mark thinks.

“What happened?”

“You didn’t say anything for a bit, and then you straight up looked like you were about to collapse onto the floor! Your face is so pale- are you okay? Do you have alcohol poisoning?”

Mark’s face turns red, and he can’t believe he just almost fainted in front of you at the thought of you going out with Jaemin. He needs to learn how to hide his feelings better, and he needs to do it fast.

You make sure he’s okay and that he’s eaten before you let him know you have to head out to do homework. This, of course, is a clever lie so that you can text Jaemin all weekend without an extremely jealous and possessive man peering over your shoulder, watching your every move. 

What you don’t know is that Mark knows you’re doing this, or at least assuming you are, which is enough, and it’s making him progressively spiral and further lose his mind. He is overthinking every possible outcome. What if you’re talking about him? What if you don’t actually like how he is in bed and you tell his friend and now his entire friend group thinks he’s bad at sex? What if you say you don’t think he’s funny? What if you send Jaemin nudes? What if you send Jaemin nudes that he will never get? Mark doesn’t think he can handle that, and the room starts spinning again. 

What if Jaemin does ask you out, and what if you say yes? The yes feels like a guarantee to Mark. Not for nothing, but Jaemin is a super good looking guy. He’s super sweet and exactly what you would describe as your type, so there is nothing stopping you from saying yes. What happens next? Will you be Jaemin’s girlfriend? Will he have to stop sleeping with you and jacking off to your nudes on the nights he doesn’t see you? Will you even still consider him your friend after everything you two have done? Is he going to lose you forever to a man who can’t tell if two people are dating or cousins?

---

You’d been texting Jaemin all weekend, getting to know each other, and as you walk up to campus on Monday morning, you’re honestly disappointed that he hasn’t alluded to any plan to see you or take you out on a date. As you walk towards your first class, a boy with pink hair suddenly pops up in front of you.

“Hi, beautiful,” he smiles.

“Hi, Jaemin” you respond, surprised.

“How was your weekend?” he asks, now apparently accompanying you on your walk to class. You find yourself feeling so grateful this is not the class you have with Mark because you aren’t mentally prepared for that drama right now. It is way too early for that.

“It was great. I actually met this really funny guy. He was about yay high,” you say gesturing and putting your hand at his height, “kind of crazy hair and eyes… oh! and says fucko a lot.”

“Oh wow,” he says laughing, “That sounds like a super interesting and hot guy that you should seriously consider asking to marry you. Truly sounds like a keeper,” he kids.

“I don't know that I'm thinking about marriage right now,” you say, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Boo!” he jeers, before asking, “Well if you aren’t thinking about marriage, could I interest you in thinking about a date?”

Your brain shuts down.

“YES!” you say a little too quickly, “Uh yes, yeah. For sureeee, dude. Definitely. That sounds great! I’m so down-” you ramble

“Say yes one more time, and I'll be convinced,” he jokes

“I could change my answer to no,” you warn.

“Fine, fine, fine-” he concedes as you pull up outside your classroom, “I’ll text you the details, yeah?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” you smile.

“Perfect,” he smiles back, leaning in to give you a kiss on the cheek.

Internal screaming ensues

Safe to say that your heart is racing for the rest of the day, and you might as well not have gone to class because you were not mentally present and learned nothing. The only thought in your mind is Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin-

“Y/N!!!”

Your thoughts are interrupted as you turn around to see Mark jogging up to you.

“Hey, baby,” he says, kissing you.

“Hi,” you reply softly, a little worried that someone (Jaemin) might be around but melting into his arms anyway.

“How were your classes? Ready to go to the library?”

In the midst of the Jaemin flash mob going on in your head, you had completely forgotten about your usual study date with Mark on Mondays. How were you supposed to act normal when you were patiently waiting for whatever details Jaemin was going to send you related to your date?

Mark could sense something was off with you, so he said, “Let’s call off studying for the day and take a drive. What do you think?”

“Sure, sounds fun!” you said thankful to hopefully have more of a distraction than your usual table at the library would give you. You had no clue where he was taking you until you wound up at the beach.

“Hello? What are we doing here?” you laugh.

“Well clearly you’re feeling overwhelmed about something, so I figured a walk on the beach would help since it always does,” he takes your hands into his, looking down shyly. Mark’s behavior is throwing you off, and it feels like it’s coming out of nowhere. It all feels so intimate, making your heart do cartwheels. He knows something’s wrong, so he took you to your favorite place to try to help. You nearly melt.

“Awwwww, Markieeeeee! You love me, how cute,” you softly pinch his cheek, trying to play it off. Instead of joking back, however, he slides his hand to the back of his neck with a little smile and deflects, “Let’s go get you something to eat before we take a walk, and maybe… if you want, you can talk it out, o-only if you want though.”

Talking it out isn’t really an option for you, seeing as your inner turmoil is coming from potentially being in love with Mark and definitely having a crush on Jaemin. You do, however, feel stress-free spending time with one of your best friends, just listening to the sounds of the ocean and giggling at whatever dumb jokes Mark makes. The familiar feeling comes creeping over you again, as you fall back into comfortable silence alongside Mark.

You are definitely a little bit in love with Mark, and there’s really no doubt now. You’ve been in denial for a very long time because… it’s Mark. He is probably your best friend in the whole wide world, and you refuse to be one of the many people that just fell in love despite him being very clear about his disinterest in relationships. It’s also not something you’re proud of. You were supposed to be totally cool and distant, and it’s entirely too late now. Both of you may have been wrong when you thought it would be simple transitioning from being best friends with someone to having sex with them without some sort of romantic feelings developing.

Even though you know Mark will never want anything other than something casual with you, seeing him in the sunset, smiling and laughing, makes your heart yearn for him even more. You think about how easy it all is and how right it feels. It's him. It just sucks that you are not the one for him... that you aren’t enough. Not enough to get him to want to commit, at least, because otherwise, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. 

The sound of your phone buzzing throws you out of your depressive spiral, the screen lighting up with texts from the man you’ve wanted to hear from all day (and the only man who might be able to help you get over Mark).

jaemin: hi beautiful how was your day?

jaemin: are you free tomorrow night?

You smile a little at your phone, and Mark takes notice. He does his best to not look suspicious as he peeks over at your phone screen to see what Jaemin texted you, and his heart sinks.

“Who's that?” he asks, defeated.

“Oh, it’s just Jaemin,” you say, looking at your phone, unaware of the frown Mark is now wearing.

“What does he want?”

You look up and see Mark clearly not doing so well, and you begin feeling defensive and ready to remind him that he’s the one that doesn’t want to commit.

“He asked me out on a date earlier and texted me just now to see when I’m free,” you reply, waiting for whatever angry or annoyed response you’re about to get.

“Oh…”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, oh…” the boy looks down, “Did you want me to say something else?”

“No...” Yes! I want you to ask me not to go! you think. I want you to tell me you’re in love with me too and that you will never want anyone but me and that no one else could possibly be me. I want you to tell me that you want me just as much as I want you!

The two of you continue your walk in the sand after you let Jaemin know that you are indeed free. There is far less laughter, and there is no longer a carefree feeling. Mark drops you off at home, and you feel a bit sad over the shift that’s happening with Mark but hopeful and excited about your date with Jaemin.

---

Jaemin does not tell you what you two are doing on the date, so you have absolutely no idea what to wear. You decide to go for something casual enough that you wouldn’t feel too overdressed if you wound up at the movie theater but not so underdressed that you’d feel uncomfortable at a higher end restaurant. At least that’s how your best friend and roommate Felix tells you to dress. He lends a helping hand by telling you if you look absolutely horrible or like you’re trying too hard. It may seem like it’s harsh, but he is tired of watching you cry over Mark on a weekly basis.

Being your roommate and best friend means that he hears about every fight with Mark and every girl you see Mark with. He sometimes even hears your fights if they happen in your shared apartment. He wants this to go well as much as you do, for your sake. You deserve someone sweet and caring who is serious about you, and from what Felix has heard so far, Jaemin seems like he might be all of those things. This sentiment is reinforced when Jaemin picks you up.

Jaemin shows up to pick you up, but he picks you up. He doesn’t just text you that he’s outside. This man actually walks up to your door with flowers, and you are completely shocked. He's dressed in a button down shirt and some black pants, so you definitely feel comfortable with your choice of outfit.

“Wow, your place is really nice. It definitely feels like you,” he says, taking time to look at all the pictures of you and your friends, while you put the flowers in a vase. Then, he sees a picture of you with Mark.

“How long have you been friends with Mark?”

Taken aback by his question, you nearly drop the vase.

“Um- a few years. We met while both our families were on vacation, so we had a long distance friendship for a while before we decided to go to the same university,” you say, finally putting the vase down with the flowers arranged nicely. 

“Well that’s lucky. I'm glad you did because now I get the pleasure of getting to know you,” he says, grinning as he walks back up to you. 

Your cheeks warm, “H-how long have you been friends with Mark?”

“Oh, since childhood, like basically my entire life-“ he laughs, “I was always closer with his cousin Haechan since we’re in the same year, but Mark was always around as well. It’s actually super lucky that we met because I actually wasn’t going to go to the game night at all, but when I heard Mark was going, I knew I could get him to help me with the homework.”

“Oh wow, so we only met so that you could cheat on your homework?” you fake pout. 

“Nooooo! Don’t say it like that! We met because fate wanted us to meet,” he smiles dreamily.

“Whatever you say, Jaemin,”  your cheeks warm as you both make your way out the door to his car. 

He opens up the door for you like a true gentleman and slides over to the driver's side. 

“Do you have any idea where we’re going?”

“I do not!”

“Okay, perfect!” he responds, as he speeds off. 

You chat a bit on the drive, just getting to know each other more. You learn that he’s obsessed with skin care and coffee, and also, that he hates artificial strawberry flavoring. He tells you about his cats and how in love with them he is and how much he loves his family. The ride to your unknown destination is basically never silent and filled with lots of teasing and giggles. 

Finally, you arrive at your destination, and you look up to see you’re at the beach, once again. 

“I remember you mentioning in one of the messages that the beach is really relaxing and a safe space for you, so I thought it would be a good idea for a first date to quell any nervousness” he says, looking unsure of whether you are happy with his choice or not.

“Jaemin… this is so sweet. This is a great idea, thank you-” you hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek. He blushes lightly and leads you on your way. 

Jaemin planned for you two to have dinner at this small restaurant with a perfect view of the sunset. The meal was amazing, and the company you had was even better. Dinner was just an extension of the conversation you were having on the drive over, and after dinner, you then walked around the pier and decided it might be nicer to walk along the beach to avoid the crowds and have a more intimate and private date. 

Jaemin made you feel so secure, and he made you feel so heard and validated. You never ran out of things to talk about. This dynamic isn’t something you’ve experienced before, and it’s a refreshing change of pace. In fact, it’s such a change of pace that it’s kind of making you…

Is basic affection and respect making you horny?

You are suddenly hyper aware of your body and its proximity to Jaemin’s body. Your hands keep drifting closer to each other as you walk alongside each other, lightly touching but never making that connection. Your eyes move to his lips as he talks, and you can’t believe how gorgeous his smile is. He probably has the softest looking lips you’ve ever seen on a man. He must use a lot of lip balm, you think. Men usually don’t have such moisturized lips. Then, you realize that the lips you’re looking at are no longer moving and neither is the body they’re attached to. 

“Can I interest you in anything?” Jaemin asks smugly once you finally look up at his eyes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I can't believe I zoned out like that,” you reply, mortified.

“I’ll forgive you if you tell me what you were thinking about,” he smirks.

“I was thinking about how soft your lips must be,” you say matter-of-factly.

Jaemin’s facade crumbles a bit as he wasn’t expecting you to be so direct, and he looks down at your lips before looking back up into your eyes.

“Would you like to find out?” he asks and you immediately smash your lips against his. He has no idea where to put his hands. All he knows is he wants them all over you before finally landing on keeping them on your face. You finally part for air, and Jaemin has a hungry look in his eyes. 

“So my place or yours?” you say, chest heaving as you catch your breath.

“Definitely yours.”

Thank God Felix decided to give you the apartment.

You tumble into your little apartment with Jaemin, hands grasping at each other, desperately needing to feel each other. One by one, articles of clothing are getting strewn about on your path to the bedroom before you finally land at your final destination, and the two of you are basically naked. He lays you back in bed and leaves kisses as he makes his way down to where you need him most. You haven’t really had sex with anyone but Mark for a while, so having a new set of hands and lips on you is making you more sensitive than you thought you’d be. You shiver at every light touch and Jaemin notices. 

“What’s wrong baby? Been a while?” he smirks. You decide to ignore him and instead say, “Please-”

“Please what, sweetie? I need words.”

“Please touch me-”

“Oh, don’t worry, darling. I will- I’ve been wanting to taste you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

He finally makes it down to where you need him, and he licks a stripe over your underwear, groaning.

“Fuck, you smell and taste so good, and I haven’t even gotten the real thing yet,” he says, more to himself than anything.

He tears off your underwear, needing to get to the real thing immediately and starts messily licking and sucking at your core. Mark never really goes down on you as you usually just skip to the main event, so, it has definitely been a while since you had this. You can’t stop all the noises escaping you, and they only make Jaemin even more feral. He is obsessed with hearing you, and he thinks he could honestly die like this and feel completely content. You taste that good. He swears he’s never had pussy this tasty, and he’s officially whipped without even being inside you yet. 

He doesn’t even have a strategy as he eats you out- he’s more just being selfish. He just wants to get as much of your taste as he possibly can, and if you happen to cum in the process, then that’s a win in his book. His unpredictability in the way he licks and sucks and moans against your cunt is making you quickly approach your high, and the second you mention any word of being close, Jaemin proceeds to tongue fuck you while his nose rubs against your clit. The combination immediately tips you over as you chant his name. Even after you start to come down from your high, he's desperate to keep going down on you, and you have to pull his hair to get his attention. When you do pull his head up, the look in his eyes is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. He looks starved and desperate to taste more, pupils dilated, his mouth slightly open as he’s panting, waiting for the second your hand gives so he can go back to the task at hand.

“I need you inside me, baby," you say slowly. Jaemin almost throws a fit but decides there’ll be more time to eat you out later. He peels off his boxer briefs, and his member slaps up against his stomach. You’re shocked to say the least. You didn’t expect him to be so… big. He was definitely bigger than Mark. I should not be thinking about Mark right now. But it’s true! Not that Mark’s small, but he’s definitely not this big. You’re practically drooling watching him stroke it.

“You can have a taste later,” he smirks, reading your mind, “I need to feel that delicious pussy suck me in.”

He rubs the tip up and down your slit, groaning, coating it with every drop of wetness he can get. He thinks he could probably get off on just rubbing up against you with how wet you are. 

“Are you ready for me, baby?”

You can only nod in response, since you’re sure you’ll start whining if you open your mouth.

He thrusts in just a little bit, and your body is already overwhelmed in the best way. Your body has to be at peak sensitivity right now because the way his cock feels entering your tight hole is otherworldly, and you’ve barely begun. When he finally fills you completely, his face can’t help but show how amazing you feel. “Fuck,” he gasps, his eyes shut, mouth open, and eyebrows knit. He might’ve been joking when he said you should propose to him, but he feels 100% serious that he would marry you right now. 

“God, please move,” you moan, barely able to keep it together.

“Whatever you need, baby.”

As he starts to move, you see stars. Your body is completely overwhelmed, and you're grasping at the sheets, trying to ground yourself. You wrap your legs around him desperate to feel all of him all over you, and he gets the hint, leaning down to kiss you while continuing to plow into you. He starts kissing your neck and groaning in your ear and saying the dirtiest things. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking tight, and you’re taking me so well,” he says, continuing at a brutal pace, “You’re being so loud, too- I bet the neighbors can hear how loud you are. I bet you love that you’re putting on a show for them- probably want them to watch, huh?” he feels you clench and he slows down, lifting himself back up to be able to see your face.

“Oh- you like being watched, huh, baby?”

You shake your head, your face getting hot knowing how turned on you were by the thought of someone seeing how good Jaemin is fucking you. 

“No? Are you sure because that’s not what that slutty pussy is saying, is it? I think you love being watched, and you’d let me take you in front of all my friends, huh? Johnny and Jaehyun wanted a piece of you- maybe I’d let them watch.” You clench again, unable to keep yourself from babbling and moaning.You’re almost at the edge as Jaemin keeps ramming into you at the same pace, hitting the perfect spot everytime.

“Fuck, baby- you’re squeezing me so fucking tight- just a little slut wanting to get passed around by my group of friends, aren’t you?” he says as he wraps his hand around your throat, “You wanna get fucked over and over, baby? That it? You aren’t satisfied with one dick?” 

“Daddy, please,” you whine, feeling yourself nearly over the edge. He leans back down to kiss you, hard. The intimacy of the close proximity, the dirty talk, the new angle he’s hitting inside of you. It’s all getting you closer and closer to your high. Then, he goes and whispers in your ear.

“Just a desperate, needy, little slut-” nibbling on your ear. This light stimulation is enough to send you over the edge, as you cum the hardest you have in a while, leaving scratches all over Jaemin and practically screaming his name. Jaemin is rapidly approaching his orgasm as your pussy tries to milk his cock for all it’s worth.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby- where do you want it?” he says, getting ready to pull out. You wrap your legs around him tighter and say, “Inside.” 

“Fuck- oh my god. Shit- fuck, oh my god,” he says, releasing inside you, unable to stop himself as he continues to pound his cum deeper into your pussy. Finally, when the overstimulation is too much to bear, he pulls out, watching his cum trickle out of your hole in awe. He cleans you up before lying alongside you and wrapping his arms around you. 

“I promise I don’t usually do this on first dates,” he says, kissing you on the cheek.

“Don’t worry- I won’t slut shame you,” you joke.

“I can be a slut,” he admits, “But this is not that. I really had a good time with you today, fully clothed, and I'd like to see you again- if that’s okay with you.

Wow. He fucked you, and he still wants to see you again. In public. On a date. With the intent of something serious developing between you two…

“I would actually love that,” you smile.

---

It's now been over a month with Jaemin, seeing him nearly every day. You always have a good time, and he always eats you out at the end of the date. He's so into you, and it’s a really refreshing change of pace. (But that hasn’t stopped you from seeing Mark on the days that you aren’t with Jaemin). 

You aren’t exclusively dating Jaemin yet, but he has made it abundantly clear that he is okay with taking things slow, per your request. He’s so sweet- he even (re)introduces you to his friend group. 

“This is Chenle and Jisung, they're the babies,” Jaemin says as the boys shyly wave. “Then there’s Mark and Haechan, who you already know.” Mark gives you a tight lipped smile. “There’s also Renjun- he couldn’t be at game night because he had an art assignment to do.”

“Nice to meet you, Renjun,” you say, and Renjun just smiles in return. 

“Then, there’s one million guys with J names- don’t ask me why we all have J names but we do,” he jokes, and it makes you giggle a little bit which Mark notices. Mark actually notices everything. How Jaemin has his arm around you like it’s where it belongs. How you’re looking at him with stars in your eyes. How he is introducing you to his group of friends like you’re his girlfriend, which you definitely aren’t because he was deep inside you 2 nights ago, making you beg for his cum. 

“There’s Johnny who you met,” Jaemin starts as Johnny pulls you in for a hug and whispers just loud enough for Jaemin to hear, “There’s still time to leave him.” 

You giggle as Jaemin pulls you away and glares at Johnny. 

“Hey! This is not why I’m doing these introductions… This is Jaehyun,” he says, turning back to you, “He was at the party, but I don’t think you two spoke.”

“No, we did not, and that was a big mistake on my part,” Jaehyun says, going in for a shorter hug than Johnny. When he pulls away, he keeps his hands on your waist.

“Nice to meet you officially, gorgeous. I second what Johnny said- it’s never too late to pick the better Jae.”

You are now officially flustered. Did Jaemin tell them about the comment he made the first night you slept together? (and several nights after that) 

You look around the group and a few of them are looking at you like they’d also like a taste… except for Mark who is glaring at haechan for staring.

“Yah! Stop it! I didn't bring them here for you guys to all stare and latch on. They’re here so that you all can meet the person I'm going to marry,” he jokes. Mark chokes. Why did Jaemin have to say that while he was drinking water? Now all of the attention is on Mark, everyone trying to figure out what happened. Finally, Mark is able to properly breathe again and Jaemin says, “Okay, well, moving on. I saved the best for last. This is my best friend Jeno!" 

The boy smiles big and gives you a hug, just like the other J names (minus the suggestive comment) and says he’s happy to finally meet you. The boys go on having independent conversations in small clusters, and you stick by Jaemin’s side listening to his conversation with Johnny and Jaehyun, that is, until you feel like someone is trying to make your head explode with their stare. You turn and look over to see none other than Mark who is not giving any attention to what his cousin has to say. He is instead trying to make not your head but Jaemin’s head explode. He thinks that if he hopes and prays enough, Jaemin’s head will just roll right off his body.

“I’m gonna go catch up with Mark,” you say, and the boys let you go but not without watching you leave. Jaemin slaps both Johnny and Jaehyun and says, “Hey! Stop it! You’re gonna scare them away!”

“Listen, you might have called dibs, but you aren’t married yet,” Jaehyun says.

“I have to agree,” Johnny adds.

“Guys, this isn’t funny anymore- don't even look at them!” They both immediately turn to look at you and Jaemin sighs, exasperated.

“Hey Mark,” you say, interrupting Haechan’s rant about god knows what, “Can I talk to you about that thing?” You grab Mark’s arm and walk out of earshot before saying:

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“What are you talking about?” Mark asks, knowing all too well what you’re talking about.

“Mark don’t play dumb- you’re looking at Jaemin like you want to kill him!”

“Am I not allowed to look at people?” he says, nonchalantly.

“Not when you’re looking at them like you want to kill them!” you whisper-yell.

“It’s just funny to me that he’s introducing you to everyone as if I wasn’t in your guts basically any day you weren’t with him.”

“Shhhhhhut the fuck up,” you hiss, looking back to make sure no one heard you two. “We aren’t official yet, but I like him, Mark- and you’re going to have to be okay with that.”

“Dude, he’s corny like- does he even know how to fuck you right?” he says in a cocky tone.

“You don’t want to know the answer to that, Mark, stop doing this.”

“What I can’t ask about your sex life with one of my friends?”

“No, actually. You can’t. Because you’re just going to start a fight, and look we’ve been on a few dates now. Talks are getting more serious and him introducing me to his friends is serious,” you respond.

“Jaemin is never serious about anyone-” he deadpans.

Your heart kinda breaks at hearing that, but you won’t let Mark know that so you throw it back on him. 

“Okay well, that’s even more of a reason for you to not be concerned and to remember that it’s none of your business. If he’s not serious, then why is it a problem- how does it affect you?”

“It doesn’t- I’m just letting you know,” he mumbles.

“Well, I didn't ask for your input. You are going to have to act normal and not be a dickhead out of spite-”

“It’s not out of spite,” he interjects, “It’s-”

“It’s? It's what, Mark?” you ask, officially heated from this conversation.

“Hey, is everything ok over here?” Jaemin says, coming to your rescue and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Yeah, we were done actually,” Mark says before walking away.

You nearly roll your eyes. You look back to Jaemin, smiling, and wrap your arms around his neck. You stay like that, talking about god knows what while Mark glares from afar.

---

You've been spending a lot of your days waking up in Mark’s bed and then going to sleep in Jaemin’s. All this juggling has you feeling all sorts of things, but also, a pro is you have never been fucked so good and consistently. It would almost be worth it if it weren’t for all of the emotional turmoil and distress you’re feeling. Jaemin is so incredibly sweet and he fucks you so good, but the second you get a text from Mark, you’re down bad all over again. 

For example:

1:27pm

jaemin: are you free tonight, beautiful?

1:27pm 

markie: babyyyyy

markie: you’re coming over tonight right?

No! Enough is enough. You decide it’s time that you fully give yourself to Jaemin. If you’re still sleeping with Mark, there’s no way you’ll ever be fully focusing on Jaemin. 

you: we need to talk

Mark's heart drops to his ass. This can’t be happening. He knows exactly what you’re going to say, and he actually thinks he will collapse this time. Maybe he does have feelings for you, but what’s he supposed to do about it now?

You show up at Mark's door, feeling like you’re going to puke out your heart. It’s just sex, right? You’re just friends who have sex, and so, this will be nothing. This will be a super easy conversation that will go so smoothly, and neither of you will feel any differently. You try to convince yourself all of that’s true and knock on the door. 

“Hey, baby,” he greets you, already looking like something’s up. 

“Hi Markie, how was your day?” you respond, walking in.

“Oh, it was pretty good. The same old shit. Renjun was nagging me about our group project, but it’ll be fine. What did you want to talk about?” he asks, cutting to the chase. You take a seat on the couch right next to him and try not to think about your knees touching and how you desperately want to touch more of him.

“So… as you know… I’ve been seeing Jaemin, and we’ve been on several dates…” Mark’s jaw clenches, “and things are going really well, honestly…” you smile genuinely. Jaemin has truly given you butterflies and is constantly making you feel like you’re the most gorgeous person he’s ever met. You have never ending conversations, and you truly have insane sexual chemistry. He's just not…

“Mark… we have to stop sleeping together. We always said if one of us needed to end it, we would- and I really like Jaemin, and I don't really want to be sleeping with anyone else while he’s trying to start a relationship with me-” you ramble, looking at the ground on that last part. “Is that okay?”

“Oh yeah- of course that’s okay! You know I can always get sex somewhere else, Y/N. It’s not a big deal,” he comments.

Well, that stings.

“Oh- okay. Great! Well… are we still friends?”

“Yeah, of course we’re still friends,” he smiles.

---

THAT WAS A LIE 

It has been two weeks since your talk with Mark, he hasn’t so much as looked at you. He hasn’t been around his group of friends, and he’s been ignoring your texts. The only time you see him is at school with his arm around random girls or one time, at a party walking up to his room with- you’ll never guess- a random girl. You try not to let it bother you, but you’re failing miserably. You’re currently at a party glaring at him with a girl sitting on his lap when Jaemin comes up. Jaemin who you have been seeing for two months and who you still haven’t let be your boyfriend.

“Hi, baby,” Jaemin says, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. You turn around and see he’s a little pink. He's definitely drunk. 

“Jaemin- honey, how much have you had to drink?”

“Like- literally nothing? I had like 4 shots of vodka,” he says, holding up 2 fingers. “Oh! And I only had a few hits off Johnny's bong,” He smiles. He's so cute. You can’t believe how cute this grown man can be. 

“Okay, maybe we should go home- how does that sound baby?” you say in your sweetest voice because you know the cuteness overload will get him to listen to you.

“Aw- I can’t say no to youuuuu,” he smiles, booping your nose.

You walk him through the crowd as he has both arms wrapped around your shoulders so as to not lose you. He decides he isn’t ready to leave just yet and pulls you in the direction of dancing bodies. 

“Jaeminnnnnn-”

“Come on, baby, just one dance? Please?” he pouts. You may know his weaknesses, but he knows yours too. 

“Fineeeeee,” you sigh. “Just one,” you say, holding a finger up to let him know you’re serious.

Mark sees you two dancing and fights every urge to not get up and steal you away from Jaemin. He hates how happy you look and how close Jaemin is to you. He hates knowing that you’ll be in his bed tonight or maybe he’ll be in yours, but either way you’ll definitely be with Jaemin and not with him. He wishes once again that he would’ve never taken you to that stupid game night. He thinks about how he lost his chance as he watches you full of joy with a man who is giving you everything you’ve ever asked for.

You luckily were able to get Jaemin home safely and stayed the night at his place to make sure he was taken care of. You wake up to the smell of him making breakfast, and you walk into the kitchen absolutely gobsmacked at how normal and not hungover he seems. 

“I don’t understand how you just never suffer the consequences of your actions.”

“Someone up there really wants me to make you breakfast without being hungover- I don’t know what to say,” he laughs before turning to kiss you on the forehead. “How’d you sleep, gorgeous?" 

Everything is so domestic with him. It just works. So why does it feel like something’s wrong? All of a sudden you’re hit with so much emotion, and you start crying in Jaemin’s kitchen. 

“Whoa, are you okay? What's wrong? What did I say?” he asks, concerned, pulling you in for a hug.

You start crying harder because it’s not Jaemin’s fault, and it could never be Jaemin’s fault. All this time, you’ve been repressing your emotions, and this is how they boil over. Over a forehead kiss from the sweetest, hottest, best man because you know you can never truly belong to him. 

“It's Mark, isn’t it?”

“Wha- huh?” you look up and Jaemin isn’t mad or angry, but he gives you a look of compassion and understanding.

“I mean, it is Mark, right- like it’s not Johnny or Jaehyun or something? I’d be pissed if it was either of them,” he shakes his head, keeping his arms around you.

“Jaemin, I'm so sorry. I really do like you- I just- I'm a mess, and I thought I was over Mark and being with you made me feel like I could get over Mark, but it wasn’t fair to you- and it didn’t even help-” you cry a few more tears into his chest before looking back up at him, “How did you know?”

“If I’m being honest… I knew from the day I met you. That’s why I had to double check you two weren’t dating. You looked at each other with stars in your eyes. I'm definitely interested in you, but it was clear to me that something was going on between you two, and that I, more than likely, wouldn't be able to tie you down.”

“I’m sorry, Jaemin. I’m so sorry. I mean, I know I have feelings for Mark but I doubt he feels that way about me-”

“Oh. He definitely does. He has not been able to stop staring at me like he wants to rip my head off in class. He’s definitely jealous,” he laughs

“Yeah, but jealousy doesn’t need to involve feelings,” you retort.

“Trust me, it does. I've known Mark for a while, and he has never been so upset or jealous over someone. And he has never targeted that jealousy at me. Not to be crass, but… we’ve sort of shared before.”

Your jaw drops. “WHAT? What do you mean shared??”

“Why? Are you interested?” he smirks. 

“Jaemin,” you deadpan (though you definitely are interested, but that’s not the priority right now). 

“I mean that we have actually shared… you know, been in the same bed? Tunnel buddies? Crossing streams? But we’ve also found out that we slept with the same people and sort of… compared notes once we realized.”

“Ugh, Jaemin, ew! Why would you do that?”

“Listen, it was just out of curiosity! In my defense, I am not typically interested in relationships and usually just sleep around. And also to be fair, we only compared like twice, okay?? But regardless, we have shared and also slept with the same people, and he has never had an issue with me going for anyone he’s ever slept with.”

“Okay…” you respond, skeptical.

“Okay. So that means you’re special, duh” he rolls his eyes.

“Jaemin, I just really don’t think that Mark Lee likes me the way you think he does.”

“I don’t think he likes you. I know that he loves you, but I think I know a way to help you out and prove it,” he says with a mischievous smile.

“What are you going to do?”

---

Another day, another party. Mark shows up with Haechan and looks around the room, not really interested in seeing anyone but you. He's really hoping you’re not near Jaemin right now- but well, there’s Jaemin, surrounded by their group of friends, and he looks awfully smug. 

“Dude, I can’t believe you’ve been playing them this whole time! It looked so real,” Jisung looks incredulous. 

“Wait, but do you think I have a chance? What was it like?” Jaehyun asked, desperate to know more.

Jaemin sees Mark come up and says, “They tasted so good,” provoking the already annoyed older man. “No wonder you kept Y/N around for so long,” he says, now making direct eye contact with Mark, “but they just never. stop. yapping. Like sometimes, I just want to stick my dick in their mouth to get them to shut up.” 

Jeno knows that these aren’t Jaemin’s real feelings at all and is very confused as to why Jaemin would say these things in front of his friends. He’s ready to stand up for you when he sees the look on Mark’s face and suddenly understands what’s going on.

Mark is fuming. He can’t believe his ears. This is the guy you chose over him? This is the guy that’s going to sleep in your bed every night? He’s fighting every urge to rip Jaemin’s head off until Jaemin makes a pointed comment:

“That’s all Y/N’s good for. Am I right, Mark?”

Mark is not in control of his body when he swings at Jaemin’s face, hitting him square on the nose. Haechan and Jeno have to physically pull Mark away as he continues to try to swing at him.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Jaemin screams.

“Y/N’s too good for you-” he hisses, thrashing against Haechan and Jeno.

“Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it?”

“Fucking- let go of me!” he pushes Jeno and Haechan off and storms off.

There is only one thing he can focus on right now: finding you. He sees you off in another corner of the frat playing beer pong with Johnny by your side and fights the urge to punch another one of his friends for being within 2 feet of you.

“I need to talk to you-” he grabs your arm, dragging you away from the game.

“Wait, I was playinggg,” you whine.

“Don’t care.”

“Where are we going?” you ask, now extremely confused.

You finally make it to one of the bedrooms, looking around at the decor, this must be Haechan’s room if the Michael Jackson merch is telling you anything.

“I'm with Jaemin,” you say indignantly as a reminder to Mark, knowing full well you aren't with Jaemin. His plan must have worked if Mark is in such a fuss over needing to talk to you.

“He’s a bitch, and you need to break it off with him.”

“Um… are you going to elaborate? You being pissed that I’m not fucking you anymore is not a good enough reason to end things with Jaemin.”

“He doesn’t give a shit about you, Y/N!” he responds, frustrated that you aren’t listening.

“Oh and you do? You haven’t even talked to me since I ended things with you, Mark!”

This is it. He’s going to say it, and it is in fact even scarier than he could have ever imagined.

“Yes, actually, I do- I’m in love with you and I give every shit about you and you’re the only person or thing in the world that I actually give a shit about!” he almost screams.

He sits down on the bed, unable to deal with the silence as you stand there shocked. You heavily doubted but thought maybe he harboured some romantic feelings for you, similar to a crush. Love? That is not what you were prepared for.

“I’m sorry he just- he talked about you like you were a piece of meat… and- and he’s not good enough for you! And I know I'm not either but… please,” he says, not even knowing what he’s asking for, “Just- please. I’m sorry it took me so long and I know it doesn’t seem genuine because of everything that’s happened but-” He stands up and takes your hands in his.

“I promise that I have felt like this the whole time. Since meeting you on that stupid vacation, I have not been able to control how I feel about you, and when we started sleeping together- it was like I was in heaven. But I was scared of losing you. Jaemin coming into the picture scared my ass into taking action after realizing how close I was to actually losing you. I promise I love you even if you don’t love me… and even if you don’t love me, please don’t be with him because he-” you kiss him to end his little rant. 

Having his mouth against you again is better than anything you could’ve imagined. He’s hesitant at first, completely shocked at what’s happening, but immediately, he’s kissing you harder than he ever has. You can feel the desperation and every built up emotion he’s been holding back. Not even fireworks are enough to describe the atomic explosions going on inside you.

“Huh?” he says, completely dazed after you break apart, “Yo, what was that? I-uh, I thought you were with Jaemin.”

“I’m not, actually,” you smile awkwardly.

“Dude, wh- what do you mean?” he asks, completely disoriented.

“Jaemin and I aren't together, and he was convinced that you had real feelings for me but I didn't believe him, so-”

“So, he said something that would make me want to punch him in the face,” he sighs.

“You punched him in the face??” you stop, your eyes wide.

“He was asking for it, quite literally, if what you’re telling me is true.”

“Oh wow. I really owe him big time.”

“Ummm… I don’t think you owe him anything. In fact, maybe you just never perceive Jaemin ever again. Sound like a good plan? I sure think so,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“So… does this mean you have feelings for me? Real feelings?”

“Yes, dummy!” you say, nudging his shoulder, “I thought that would’ve been clear to you- you’re the one that was always out of reach.”

“I know, I know. It was like I was trying to avoid my real feelings for you and ended up self sabotaging.”

“How about now?” you ask softly, “Are you still trying to avoid your feelings?”

“Are you joking? There is absolutely no way to deny it anymore- I just punched my friend! Oh my god, I just punched my friend,” Mark repeats, in shock at the realization of what just happened. 

“It’s fine, I'm sure he’ll forgive you. I'll put in a good word for you,” you joke.

“Actually, executive decision- starting now, you can never see any of my friends ever again, you’re too hot.”

“What? They’re literally my friends now!” you argue.

“I don’t care! They think you’re hot, and now after Jaemin’s little stunt, they know you taste good.”

“They know WHAT?”

“Let's not think about that right now. I'm going to make love to my baby without any interruptions,” he says, tugging your hips to be flush against his.

“Oh? Your baby huh? I don’t remember you asking me to be in a relationship,” you tease.

“Baby, beautiful, love of my life, will you please let me be your boyfriend?”

“I guess,” you sigh, pretending not to care before pushing him on the bed and straddling him. “This has been a long time coming, Markie. I can't believe you made me wait so long,” you say grinding down on him. “That's not very fair to me, huh?”

Mark is unable to think, feeling you rub against him for the first time in a long time. God, he’s missed you.

“Now tell me. Do you have a condom?” 

“Wait, why would I need a condom?” he sits up, confused, way too distracted by how good you feel against him. 

“Mark, I know you’ve been sleeping with other people,” you stop your maneuvering on his lap, anticipating an argument.

He whines, “No, baby, I haven't.”

He's tried to fuck other people, but he hasn’t been able to follow through with sleeping with anyone since you left. 

“I wasn’t able to stop thinking about you. There was no interest for me. I couldn’t fuck someone else even if I tried.”

“But- you had girls on your lap and you’d take girls upstairs?”

“That was like one time, and it was just to make you jealous” he sinks. “I never did anything with her. I couldn't. She wasn’t you…” he trails off, looking embarrassed. 

“Look at me, and tell me you didn’t sleep with anyone else.”

“I didn’t sleep with anyone else, my love. I couldn't. I only want you. I have always only wanted you. I love you.”

Finally.

You kiss him, and it’s the explosions all over again, but it’s even more emotion-filled this time. You were ready to experience what you always have: a passion filled desperate kiss. However, that isn’t the kiss you get. You can feel the love through the softness in the way he kisses you. He really wasn’t lying when he said he was going to make love to you. This lovestruck boy is going to make up for lost time. 

He gently takes you off his lap, making you stand up, so that he can get you completely naked before laying you down. He moves his lips down to your jaw, kissing down to your neck and shoulder. He removes your shirt and leaves your torso completely bare before continuing to kiss down your body. He’s on his knees when he takes your bottoms off and looks at you in awe.

“God, I’ve missed this.”

He spreads your legs and kitten licks at your slit, immediately groaning at the taste he has craved for weeks. You’re so wet and he’s barely started touching you. You whine, and he realizes that keeping you standing is probably not ideal for what he’s trying to do. He gently lays you down, kissing you softly once again before going back to where you need him most. He doesn’t lick lightly this time, and he immediately captures your clit in his mouth. He begins to eat you like a man starved, as if he’s in a desert, and you are the last glass of water. The man cannot get enough of you, messily making out with your cunt, groaning and making the dirtiest sounds. You can hear how wet you are from the squelching sounds he’s making and if it wasn’t for how insanely good it feels, you might feel embarrassed. Mark has never eaten you out like this- it’s something you didn’t even know was possible from him. He almost never went down on you before, but now it’s like he needs your pussy to survive.

Mark cannot get enough of you. He is so lost in your cunt that he doesn’t realize that you’re telling him you’re close. You start grinding against his face chasing your high, and he decides to help the process by harshly sucking on your clit. You throw your head back and swear you see stars because you’ve never cum so hard from head before. You have to pull on Mark’s hair to get his head away from your core, and when you do, his face is covered in your slick. The way he looks at you is completely animalistic and it takes everything in him to not go right back into eating you out.

“Mark, I need you, please,” you beg, as he moves his hands up and down your thighs, wanting to feel and caress all of you.

“Sweetheart, I have been thinking for weeks nonstop about how I needed to taste you again. You can give me one more orgasm, right? You’re gonna let me stretch you out on my fingers and tongue fuck that pretty pussy, right?”

You almost whine, but he’s never been so eager to go down on you. As much as you’ve missed his cock, this new side of Mark is turning you on so much. He sees the look on your face and knows you’re giving in, causing him to dive right back in. His digits slide into you with ease, slick from your first orgasm. Your walls are already clenching around his fingers, sensitive and still reeling from cumming so hard. It turns him on so much- he starts moaning into your pussy. Mark is so desperate to rip another orgasm out of you before finally getting to feel you around his cock.

“God, yes, just like that, Daddy,” you writhe underneath him, already close.

“Play with your tits for me, baby-”

You tweak your nipples, arching your back, but Mark presses his hand onto your lower abdomen, making the sensations even more overwhelming. Mark’s fingers curl perfectly against your g-spot and your whole body feels like it’s on fire. This orgasm feels like it’s radiating even more than the last one. He eats you through your high, not stopping until you’re pushing him away. 

“How was that?” he checks in, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Are you okay? Do you still want me inside you, baby?” “Yes, Mark, please- need to feel you,” you pout.

He immediately gets up and gets naked as fast as is physically possible.

“How do you want me?” you ask, still fuzzy from your two intense orgasms. He puts you in missionary, without answering, before lining himself up with your hole.

“I’m not going to last very long, sweetheart. Eating you out nearly made me cum untouched.” You almost moan at this admission. “Wanna look at you when I fill you up with my cum,” your boyfriend states. 

He thrusts in, filling you to the brim, and both of your mouths fall open into a gasp. The sensation is so overwhelming, you can hardly breathe. 

“Baby- please,” you beg, needing him to move. 

“Feels so fucking good, pretty,” he grunts.

He begins to slowly thrust in you and bends down to attach his lips to yours. Once your lips smash together, he begins to roughly and desperately ram his hips into yours as he chases your high. Mark keeps his lips on yours, swallowing all your moans. He slightly changes the angle and his tip begins to hit your sweet spot, already bringing you close to cumming again. Mark can tell from the way that you’re sucking him in that you’re going to cum with him, and he needs just one thing from you.

“Tell me you love me,” he pleads, eyebrows scrunched together in pleasure. He’s so close, and he needs these 3 words from you to tip him over the edge.

“I love you, Mark. I love you I love you I love you,” you moan, not stopping. I love yous flow out of your mouth in every breath and soon Mark is filling you up, the sensation ripping one last orgasm out of you.

Mark pulls out of you, not caring about the mess that would definitely be left on his cousin’s bed. The two of you lay there, panting messes. Mark feels like he’s dreaming, and he’s in disbelief that he has you back. Upon the realization, he immediately wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck and squeezing you.

“What are you doing?” you laugh. He responds but it’s muffled. “Mark, I can't hear a thing you’re saying.”

“I’m just so happy to have you back and so happy that I get to be your boyfriend,” he responds looking up at you, and would you look at that- he has stars in his eyes.

It's the first game night since you started dating Mark seriously. 

“Babe, do we have to go?” Mark groans, sitting on your bed. He’s looking at you through the mirror as you get ready for a return to the friend group. He has made it a point to walk you to every class since you became official, and he told you it was to make sure you know he’s proud to be your boyfriend. (But if you ask him, he did it so that none of his friends would be able to talk to you for more than 30 seconds.)

“Yes, of course we have to. Literally, everyone has been asking for us to go. We’ve missed 3 weeks already.”

“Yes, but everyone includes people who want to fuck you, and that’s not really people I want to be around,” he whines.

“Markie. They don’t all want to fuck me.”

-

“Thanks a lot, Jaemin. You could’ve let us know they were gonna end up together, so we could’ve had a shot before it happened,” Johnny groans.

“Listen, I would've, except I think that it’s way funnier to watch you thirst for Y/N from afar,” he laughs.

“Do you think Mark would be down to share one time for the one time?” Jaehyun asks.

“Listen… never say never, but if anyone is going to convince him first, it’s going to be me,” Jaemin winks before walking up to greet you and Mark.

“Hi, Y/Nie!” he says, giving you a big hug that lasts longer than Mark would like.

“Hi Jaemin,” you smile.

“I hope you know that everyone here wants to fuck you,” the pink-haired boy loudly whispers.

You slap him on the shoulder, “And whose fault is that?”

“Listen, I wasn’t going to lie about my personal experience at the Y/N establishment,” he says, hands up.

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to say all that. Now everyone knows how they taste,” Mark butts in, grumbling.

“Well listen, I have to keep you on your toes, Mark Lee. Now you know that if you slip up, Y/N has several guys waiting desperately to swoop in and save the day.”

“And now you know,” Jaemin says looking at you now, “if he ever fucks up, I can fuck you real good and make you forget all about it.”

“We’re going to go now,” Mark says, dragging you away. “I told you they all want to fuck you-” he groans.

“Okay, I didn’t think it would be this bad. Lucky for you, I’m ending up in your bed tonight and every night til you get sick of me.”

“Lucky for me, that’s never going to happen,” he says, giving you a wet sloppy kiss.

----------

a/n: lol it only took me a year to complete pt 2. sorry! since the first part was based on my real life it was hard to decide where part 2 should go. this was genuinely like a therapeutic exercise lol i wasn’t sure if i wanted the mc to end up with mark or jaemin because i wasn’t sure what made the most sense. i ended up choosing mark over jaemin because i thought that might be the best idea for what most people would want. plus i think creating a story where the person does change and does become the guy you deserve is very sweet and hopeful. while in real life i think the jaemin character makes more sense, i think mark being endgame is romantic. i also SUCK at writing smut i think i just don’t have the creativity for it- it was SO HARD however i did entertain the idea of writing a side bit where mark actually does allow jaemin/jaehyun/johnny a shot to sleep with y/n because i love 3some/4some/5somes hahahah but anyway thanks for reading this far i hope you have/are having a beautiful day!! <3

[mylove-thresher]

I keep trying to post shit I been drawing lately BUT I CANT. I CANNOT BRING MYSELF TO. THE WORMS INSIDE MY HEAD DO NOT APPROVE OF THEM. I CANNOT FUCKING DRAW. PUT ME DOWN. I DONT FEEL THE SILLY IN ME.