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sapphire-writes · 11 months

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Faking It ~ modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: You and Aemond decide to fake date in order to make your exes jealous.

word count: 4.8k

note: a request fulfilled for the lovely @oneeyedvisenya! Rae, I remember you were one of the first blogs I admired and I remember squealing with joy when you interacted and followed me and now we're bestie ilysm I'll cry rn. I hope you enjoy 🩷

rating: Explicit (see more descriptive warnings under the cut)

warnings: p in v, fingering, titty sucking, choking, degradation, slight praise

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Aegon asks, frowning as you take your shot.

You glare at him before signaling to the bartender you’d like another. You’re going to need a lot of tequila to get through tonight. You’d come to your favorite club after another horrible week. The world just seemed to be against you.

“Don’t say panties to me, you sound like a pervert,” you tell him, causing Aegon to chuckle.

“Your undergarments then,” Aegon decides, bumping his shoulder against yours, “your lingerie.”

“That’s even worse,” you tell him, sucking the juice from your lime.

“It can’t be Qyle again, please,” Aegon says groaning.

You bite your lip. You hadn’t expected to see your ex-boyfriend out, he always used to tell you he hated going to bars or clubs. Yet, here he was with his mates for a night on the town, effectively ruining yours.

“You need to get laid, I’m saying that as your friend,” Aegon tells you, clasping a hand on your shoulder.

“Very funny,” you tell him.

“I’m serious. I’m always down if you need a body, just as friends,” he teases.

You’ve hooked up with Aegon before. A long time ago in the grand scheme of things. You’ve always been better as best friends. You’d been nearly inseparable since your days at university.

“You’re too kind,” you tell him, scrunching your nose at the offer.

“You’re a great shag,” he continues.

Aegon furrows his brow suddenly, placing a hand under his chin as though he’s lost in thought.

“I still don’t know how you get your leg-”

“Aegon!” you say, putting your hand over his mouth to stop him from continuing.

Aemond saddles up on the other side of Aegon, trying to get the bartender’s attention. He barely pays him any mind as he places another shot in front of you before moving to the other side of the bar to attend to other patrons. Aemond sighs, a low growl releasing from deep within his chest.

Aegon’s frown deepens at his brother’s appearance.

“What’s your problem?” he asks his brother.

The bartender returns for Aemond’s order before dashing away to retrieve your shot.

“Nothing,” Aemond says, though his sulking says otherwise.

As the bartender returns with Aemond’s drink and your shot, you dash some salt on the back of your hand, licking it up before downing the tequila. Aegon glances between you and Aemond, as Aemond sips his old-fashioned and you squeeze the juice from your second lime onto your tongue, trying to get rid of the burn of cheap tequila spreading down your throat.

“Well, as much fun as you grumps are, I’m going to go see Jace,” Aegon says, clasping a hand on your back before moving to leave.

You sigh running a hand through your hair before awkwardly glancing at Aemond. You’ve never really interacted with him much before. Sure, he was your best friend’s brother, but you’re in totally different social circles. Aemond meets your eye, glancing at you sideways. You both stay silent for a moment, unsure of what to do now that Aegon has left.

“So,” you both say simultaneously.

You give him an awkward, nervous giggle. Aemond smiles tightly, nodding for you to continue.

“So…what’s up?” you ask, nodding your head to the beat of the music that blares from the speakers.

“Not much,” Aemond says, leaning against the bar, “What’s got you upset?”

“I’m not upset,” you answer a bit too quickly, a bit too defensively.

Aemond raises an eyebrow at you, turning so his whole profile faces you. You try not to stare at the scar that runs down his face; through his eyebrow, split only by the sapphire blue prosthetic that sparkles in the low lights. You swallow the lump beginning to form in your throat.

“Sorry, yeah I’m a bit upset I guess,” you tell him, “My ex is here. We literally just broke up a couple of weeks ago and yet here he is, drowning in a sea of horny women.”

You click your tongue in annoyance at your confession. For some reason, you feel compelled to continue speaking.

“I guess I shouldn’t be upset though, right? I mean we are broken up but it’s like, the principle of it I guess? We were together a while, you don’t see me just jumping onto someone-”

“Why not?” Aemond interrupts your rambling.

Your lips part slightly, brows knitting together at his rude interruption.

“Why not what?”

“Why not get with someone?” Aemond asks, sipping his drink.

“Did you miss the part where I just got out of a relationship?” you ask him, tilting your head to the side.

“Well that certainly doesn’t seem to matter to him,” Aemond tells you.

You frown, crossing your arms.

“Gee, thanks for that,” you tell him, before moving to leave the bar.

You’ve got to find Aegon, tell him what a shitdick his brother is. Aemond follows close behind as you begin to walk into the crowd.

“Hey! Shit, wait, I’m sorry,” Aemond says to you.

You barely look back, before he tugs on your arm and you turn to face him. You roll your eyes as you do so.

“See, look over there,” Aemond says, jutting his chin to the left.

You follow where he motioned, eyes landing on a beautiful dark-haired girl clad in a black bodycon dress, seated on the lap of some golden-haired guy.

“That’s Floris, my ex-girlfriend,” Aemond tells you, leaning down so he can speak directly in your ear, “We just broke up a couple of months ago. I get it.”

You watch Floris laugh and twirl a strand of hair around a delicate finger. You wonder if Aemond feels the same pain you do when you’re watching Qyle with someone else. A glance at his expression answers your question.

“It’s rough,” you tell him, nodding.

“The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else,” Aemond muses.

You snort, shaking your head.

“You sound like Aegon,” you playfully accuse.

“Yeah, I’m quoting him,” he admits, causing you to laugh.

You continue giggling, a mixture of alcohol and the ridiculousness of your ex causing you to feel like your sanity is slowly slipping away from you. You groan loudly and Aemond tears his gaze from Floris, to look down at you.

“Fuck I don’t know how to do this anymore,” you groan, “I just wish there was a way to make him regret it, without actually having to begin tragically scouting dating apps again.”

You shake your head but an idea suddenly pops into Aemond’s head.

“Maybe there is a way,” he says suddenly.

“Don’t tempt me,” you tell him but he shakes his head.

“I mean it,” he tells you, “What if you and I pretend to date.”

“What?”

“C’mon, think about it,” Aemond says, leaning closer, “You and me, together. It’ll drive Floris up the wall, I know it. And Qyle too I bet.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. You give him a once over, eyes scanning past the planes of his chest, down his dark jeans. Aemond’s always dressed in black when you see him. His black t-shit hugs the lean muscles of his chest and arms, you can see the ripple of his biceps flexing. His silver chain catches the light as you drag your gaze back up to his face.

“How do you know that?” you ask.

Aemond wets his lips, running a hand through his long silver hair. He shrugs, smugly pursing his lips.

“She was always threatened by you,” he admits.

“Me?!” you ask, eyes widening, nearly popping out of your skull.

“Don’t act so surprised,” Aemond scolds, and you feel your cheeks blooming with blush.

How on Earth were you a threat to Floris Baratheon?

“She didn’t like that you were always around,” Aemond begins, “You’re Aegon’s best friend, you’re gorgeous-”

“Am I?” you ask, a sharp laugh escaping your lips, a smile playing on your face.

Aemond hums, downing the dregs of his drink. His violet eye flickers to your face and you hope he can’t see how flushed his comment made you in the low lights of the club. It’s not every day Aemond Targaryen dishes out compliments, especially to his brother’s best friend.

“Of course you are,” he tells you, “Which is why it's perfect.”

You glance around the club, unconsciously looking for Qyle’s dark curls. You shake your head. You’re not sure what compels you to keep indulging Aemond. Maybe it’s the tequila.

It’s cause he called you gorgeous, your inner thoughts tease.

He’s simply stating facts, you tell yourself. You are gorgeous. And you would love to see Qyle squirm a bit. Even if you’re pretending.

“Okay,” you tell him, “I’m in.”

Your plan goes swimmingly.

It’s not hard to run into Floris and Qyle, you and Aemond make sure to stop by all of your favorite haunts. Aemond takes you to the bookstore downtown, with an adjoining cafe where you run into Floris and her sister Maris, who glares daggers at you the entire time you enjoy your brunch.

You take Aemond to the Water Garden museum, which Qyle told you was one of his favorite places. Sure enough, you have an awkward encounter with your former beau as he’s sketching some lilies that float by on a lapis-colored reflection pool.

Qyle’s smile falters when Aemond laces his fingers through yours, demanding you show him your favorite parts of the museum. You hate to admit it but you like the feeling of his hand in yours, how Aemond actually listens when you explain which exhibits are your favorite. He’s surprisingly easy to make conversation with and a great listener. You never felt like Qyle listened.

Your scheming pays off, both you and Aemond receive heated texts from your exes which you examine weeks later while hosting a party with the gang. The gang being Aegon, Jace, Sara, and Baela. Baela and you have been roomies since university, now sharing an apartment together. You cheers Aemond as he hands you your drink, knocking your red solo cup against his.

“You and I make a fabulous pair, if I do say so myself,” you tell Aemond, taking a sip.

“Yeah, you’re alright I suppose,” he teases and you nudge him in the ribs with your elbow.

The doorbell rings and Baela rises from the couch eagerly. You frown at her.

“You invited more people?” you ask.

Baela nods while heading toward the door.

“Just a few! Alyn from boxing and one of his friends!” she calls to you.

You roll your eyes at her. Baela loves a good party and she makes a good host. You find a seat on the couch, Aemond sitting next to you, watching as Aegon versus Sara in beer pong. When Baela reenters she’s joined by Alyn and another guy.

“Guys, this is Alyn, and his friend Cregan,” Baela introduces.

You smile politely, and all introduce yourselves. Cregan is cute. Like, really cute. Ruggedly handsome, built like a total beefcake. When his brown eyes meet yours you glance away shyly.

“Get wrecked, Sara!” Aegon cheers, successfully winning the game of pong.

“Whatever,” Sara says rolling her eyes.

“Okay let’s do doubles now, Jacey boy be my second,” Aegon says, clapping his hands on Jace’s shoulders.

Jace laughs but begins to reset the cups.

“Y/N, come on be Sara’s partner,” Aegon says, waving you over.

“Fuck you Egg, you’re a cheat I’m not playing again,” Sara says, huffing as she walks away.

She’s historically a sore loser, and she doesn’t budge even when Jace pouts and begs her to play. You stand in front of the table hands on your hips.

“It’s fine, I can take you both,” you tell them, causing Aegon to raise an eyebrow.

“Kinky bestie,” he teases and you throw the ball at his head.

He ducks, dissolving into laughter as Jace blushes.

“I’ll play,” Alyn's friend says suddenly, walking to stand next to you.

You glance at him, smiling softly which he returns with a smile of his own.

“You should know, I’m pretty shit at this game,” he admits, and you giggle softly.

“No worries, I’ll carry us,” you tease, “But beware, that one is a cheater.”

You point at Aegon, and he opens his mouth dramatically, placing a hand on his heart.

“That’s a pretty harsh accusation coming from the master of distraction,” he accuses.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, blinking innocently.

“Don’t let her fool you, Cregan,” Aegon says shaking his head and bouncing the ball against the table, “This one is known for flashing her tits if it means she can win.”

“Aegon!” you hiss, blushing furiously, “He’s lying.”

“Mhmm, we’ll see,” Aegon teases and the game begins.

While Aemond enjoys watching you play, he decides rather quickly he does not like Alyn’s friend Cregan. Specifically, the way he stands so closely next to you, and the way he seems to be so hilarious. Every laugh he steals from your lips sends Aemond’s heart racing, his blood boiling in his veins.

He stays seated on the couch for the entire game, eye never leaving you. Baela plops down next to him at one point, her gaze following his and landing on you. Aemond notices he’s being observed a second too late, tearing his gaze away and nonchalantly taking a sip of his drink.

“Mhmm,” Baela says, fighting a smile.

“Shut up,” he snaps at his cousin.

The shenanigans continue late into the night, with Sara and Jace leaving first. You raise your eyebrows at Sara. They’re not technically together, but the sparks are there. You know Jace will have to make a move soon, he just needs to get a little braver. Aegon is picked up by Rhaenyra next, he’s too drunk to drive. He places a sloppy kiss on your cheek as you help Rhaenyra lift him into her red Cadillac.

“I love you so much, you’re my best friend,” Aegon slurs.

“I love you too, Egg,” you tell him, laughing at his ridiculousness.

He sits up in the backseat looking around.

“Is this Nyra’s car? Is Nyra here??” he asks loudly, eyes wide.

“Yes you idiot, you called me!” Nyra says getting into the front seat.

“I’m so glad you’re here, my big sister!!” Aegon says, pressing his face against the leather seats, “Can we get McDonald's?”

For some reason, Aemond lingers behind as the party dies down, it's only you, Baela, Alyn, and Cregan left. As the hours get later, Alyn and Cregan finally decide to leave, but not before Cregan insists you take his number.

You’ve started picking up cups and plates, not one to find sleep easily after a rager. Baela turned in for the night, you can hear her noise machine blaring even though her room’s on the second floor. You roomed with her in college, she can’t sleep in silence. Noise machine, fan on, and she’s out like a light.

“You really got his number?” Aemond asks, from the couch across the room.

You glance at Aemond as he sits, legs splayed out, arms draped over the back of the couch. One of his large hands holds a now empty red solo cup. He taps a long finger against it.

“Who?”

“Alyn’s friend,” Aemond says, not taking his eye off you.

“Oh...Craig?” you tell him.

Shit, that is totally not that guy's name.

You frown, standing straight, a red solo cup dangling from your fingers. You put his name into your phone as an emoji of a wolf. It seemed funny at the time though you can’t remember why.

“Or Connor? Something with a C I think,” you tell him, shrugging.

“What about us?” he asks.

“What about us?” you ask, placing a hand on your hip, “Aemond, we’re not really dating.”

You move closer to him, holding your hand out to take his empty cup. Your hand nearly wraps around it when Aemond pulls it out of your reach. You narrow your eyes playfully at him, reaching once more. Aemond’s free hand wraps around your thigh, pulling you closer.

A blush creeps up your neck, heat floods your face as Aemond lets the cup fall, bringing his other hand to pull you completely onto his lap. Suddenly straddling him a gasp falls from your lips before Aemond swallows the noise by placing his lips against yours.

Holy fuck.

Aemond Targaryen is a good kisser. You admit, you thought he must be with that perfect pout on his handsome face. As you whimper against him, Aemond slides his tongue into your mouth, hands gripping your waist as you roll your hips against him.

You slide your hands around his neck, running your hands through the silky strands of his hair and letting your nails drag across the nape of his neck. He shivers against you and you do it again. Aemond’s hands slide underneath your shirt, dancing up your ribs leaving a trail of goosebumps behind at his surprisingly gentle touch.

“What were you saying?” Aemond murmurs against your mouth.

“We…” your voice trails off as Aemond moves his lips from your mouth, ghosting them across your jawbone, down the column of your neck.

“Mhmm,” he murmurs, the vibrations tingling against your throat.

Aemond nips at the skin of your neck before pressing hot, wet kisses along your throat. Gods you are so wet already, squirming anxiously in his lap as one of his large hands squeeze the swell of your ass, the other continuing its exploration under your shirt, over your breasts.

“Aem-” you whimper as he palms your breast in his hand.

Gods he feels good, just squeezing and kissing you, showering you with affection.

“You like that?” he murmurs, teeth scraping against your collarbone.

“Yes,” you breathe, rolling your hips against the growing hardness you feel between his legs.

He’s packing, you can tell by the way he’s pressed against you; hard and demanding. Though you suspected as much with how tall and lean he is, by the size of his hands. You’d been thinking about Aemond a lot actually.

“What do you like?” Aemond asks between kisses, “Tell me.”

“Aemond please,” you moan, “Please keep touching me.”

“Where, baby?” he asks, pinching your nipple between his fingers.

“Please touch my pussy,” you beg.

Aemond grins wolfishly, bringing his hand to the hem of your shirt. You release your grip on his neck as he pulls your shirt over your head. You assist him, eager to keep going as you unclasp your bra and fling it across the room.

Aemond’s eyes fall on your heaving breasts before he leans forward burying his face between them. Your head falls back with pleasure as he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly on the sensitive peak. He alternates his attention between both mounds, being shamelessly lewd with the wet sounds his mouth makes. You’re desperate at this point, breasts covered in red marks, nearly soaked from his mouth.

“Aemond please,” you beg once more and he lets his hand trail up your thigh and under your skirt.

His long fingers easily slip under your lace underwear, spreading your slick folds and swirling around your clit.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” Aemond murmurs, mouth still buried in your tits.

Your head is spinning, ears ringing from pleasure as he sinks two fingers easily into your clenching center. You inhale a sharp breath as he crooks his fingers into the perfect ‘come hither’ position, determined to find your sweet spot. Which he does, with impressive speed as your eyes squeeze tightly shut, jaw slack with pleasure.

“Eyes on me,” he demands, “Don’t be rude, look at who’s making you cum.”

You force your eyes open, staring at him as fingers you relentlessly, rubbing your inner walls while his thumb rolls even circles around your clit. Pleasure blooms in your abdomen, it tingles up your spine. Your imminent orgasm sends warmth spreading through your limbs, your pussy clenching around Aemond’s fingers, a vice-like grip.

As you’re nearing the edge, breaths becoming desperate pants, Aemond slows his movements, swallowing your disappointed whine with a kiss.

“I know,” he sing-songs, so smugly, so condescendingly, “but you haven’t learned your lesson yet.”

He slowly removes his fingers from your dripping cunt and wraps his hands around your thighs pushing you off of him. You stand in front of him on shaky legs, and Aemond takes in the sight of you standing in your heels and skirt, topless and marked by him.

“Take off your panties,” he softly commands.

There’s no need for him to ask you twice, you move to the buttons of your skirt, but he stops you.

“Leave that on,” he tells you.

Your hands move underneath your skirt, pulling your lace panties down slowly. Aemond moves his hands toward his belt buckle, releasing his cock as you do so. Your eyes widen, at the sight of him; fully erect, pink tip leaking with precum as he slowly runs his hand along his shaft. You can see every vein that runs along his pale cock, and you were right about him being well-endowed. He’s thick and long and your mouth nearly waters at the sight.

Aemond’s mouth quirks into a smile at your staring, before he reaches out to pull you back onto his lap. He reaches for his wallet, but it's your turn to stop him.

“I’m on birth control,” you tell him, “And I was recently tested.”

“Me too,” Aemond says, “The tested, not the birth control.”

You giggle at his joke, and he grins.

“I want to feel you,” you tell him, a rosy blush blooming across your cheeks.

Aemond pulls you into another bruising kiss, as you lift your hips. You can feel the fat head of his cock kissing your slick folds, and you shiver before lower your hips onto him, engulfing him fully in your tight, wet heat. Aemond lets out a shuddering moan as he bottoms out.

Your pussy clenches around him, and you can feel him pulsating inside you like a second heartbeat as you gingerly roll your hips against him. Aemond’s jaw slacks, his violet eye blown black with lust as you begin to ride him.

He lets you for a moment, before he wraps his hands around your waist, pressing you into the couch on your back. Aemond snaps his hips against you, pulling nearly all the way out until you can just feel the head of his cock, before slamming into you once more.

Whimpers and moans fill the living room, along with skin slapping against the skin as he fucks you into the couch.

“I want you to call him,” Aemond growls in your ear, “Tell him you’re seeing someone.”

“I will,” you promise him, as he delivers another punishing thrust.

“Now.”

Your breathing stops, your heart pounding erratically in your chest.

“Aemond, no,” you whimper, as his hand wraps around your throat.

“Yes,” he tells you, kissing you sloppily eliciting another moan from you.

Thighs trembling, your pussy spasms around his thick cock and he slows his punishing pace suddenly.

“If you want to cum tonight, you’ll call him now,” Aemond tells you.

You weigh your options for a moment.

“My phone,” you choke out, motioning to the side table.

Aemond smirks, moving his hand to the back of your neck, reaching for your phone with his free hand. He hands it to you and you take it with a shaky hand.

You scroll through your contacts to find wolf boy and press the call button as Aemond lets his hand run down your chest, between the valley of your breasts and lower to play with your clit. Your pussy clenches around his still cock, desperate for him to move.

Please don’t pick up.

The phone keeps ringing, your orgasm building with each ring, each swirl of his dexterous fingers.

Please don’t pick up.

Aemond kisses your neck, your collarbone. Mumbles filthy words against your skin like a prayer.

“You like warming my cock, baby?”

Please don’t pick up.

He takes your nipple in his mouth, tugging on it with his lips, his teeth. Oh god you’re going to-

The sharp cut to wolf boy’s voicemailbox brings you back to reality. Aemond removes his fingers from your clit and you whimper with disappointment before the beep of the answering machine.

“He-hey! Hello there,” you try to sound casual, “this is um this is Y/N from the party and I just-”

Aemond sinks his teeth into the junction where your shoulder meets your neck and your jaw drops.

“I just wanted to tell you, I’m actually, um I’m-” your voice trails off, eyes fluttering shut as Aemond sucks harshly on your neck.

Aemond pulls away, a wolfish grin on his face before he plucks your phone from your hand, pressing it to his ear.

“She’s seeing someone, and she’s busy right now,” he says roughly, “Delete this number.”

Aemond hangs up, tossing your phone to the other end of the couch. Your eyes are wide as he spreads your legs wide, pressing them back into the cushions of the couch as he begins to pound into you.

The sound of wet slaps fills the room and you’re thanking every deity you can think of that Baela is a heavy sleeper.

“You liked that didn’t you?” Aemond taunts, “Calling him with my cock inside you?”

Whimpers and moans leave you with every snap of Aemond’s hips.

“Yes,” you admit, feeling a rush roll through you at his possessiveness.

“Naughty girl, you are,” he chastises, “I don’t think naughty girls deserve to cum.”

You let out a desperate whine and Aemond chuckles darkly at your disappointed reaction. You bite your lip, the delicious sting of your hamstrings paired with Aemond’s precise thrusts sending you closer and closer to the edge.

“Please, Aemond,” you beg, eyes glassy with want, “Please make me cum, I want you to.”

“I bet you do,” Aemond tells you, bringing a hand to rest against your throat once more, “Needy sluts, always want to cum.”

“Aem, please,” you continue to beg, voice hoarse, “I’ll be so good.”

Aemond quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Will you now? That’s what I like to hear,” Aemond praises, “How?”

“I’ll be all yours, only yours,” you tell him, toes curling with the building pressure in your abdomen, “Fuck, I’m yours.”

“Hmmm that’s better,” Aemond tells you, “It’s you and me, baby.”

“You and me,” you repeat, nearly dumb with pleasure, “you and me.”

“That’s a good girl,” Aemond praises, releasing your throat and bringing his hand to play with your clit, “Cum for me, cum all over my cock.”

Your belly tightens and with a strangled cry, you’re clenching and coating Aemond’s cock and lower stomach with your release. Aemond continues to fuck your sensitive walls through your orgasm, as you run your nails down his back, holding him closer. He lets go of your legs and you wrap them around his waist.

“Cum inside me, please,” you whimper.

Aemond kisses you harshly, his thrusts becoming frantic as you feel him release deep inside of you. You whimper with pleasure, sinking your nails into his shoulder and keeping him inside you. Aemond kisses you again, more gently this time, and brushes some hair from your face.

“Holy shit,” you manage to say, and Aemond smirks.

“I didn’t plan on that,” he tells you, “but seeing you with Cregan-”

“Cregan! That was his name,” you interrupt.

Aemond furrows his brow.

“I fuck you that good?” he teases.

“I forgot his name before you fucked me,” you tell him.

“I can always try again,” he tells you.

“Maybe we can move it to my room this time?” you ask, “It is, three feet away after all.”

And that’s exactly what you do, leading Aemond into your room where he fucks you with his fingers, his cock, and his tongue until his name is the only one you can remember at all.

“Y/N?” Baela calls from the living room the following morning.

You open your eyes and turn, greeted by a sleeping Aemond Targaryen. You put on his shirt and open the door to your room, peeking your head out.

Baela stands, arms crossed, a knowing smile on her lips.

“Have fun last night?” she asks.

“Yeah…” you answer slowly.

Baela’s eyes flicker across the room and you follow her gaze. Your eyes land on your monstera plant that rests in the corner of the room, and your cheeks begin to burn as you see your bra strung over the leaves.

“Tell Aemond good morning,” Baela teases as you back into your room, and close the door.

You pad back over to your bed, sinking down onto the mattress. Aemond groans before his hand wraps around your waist pulling you closer.

“Good morning,” you whisper, bumping your nose against his.

note: HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT ILYSM

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rebelontheroad · 2 months

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Illuminiamo il Cammino: La Giornata del Fiocchetto Lilla

Ogni anno, il 15 marzo, il mondo si unisce per celebrare la Giornata del Fiocchetto Lilla. Questa giornata speciale è dedicata a sensibilizzare e sostenere coloro che affrontano sfide legate a disturbi alimentari, autolesionismo e problemi di salute mentale.

Il fiocchetto lilla, simbolo di solidarietà e comprensione, diventa un faro di speranza per coloro che combattono silenziosamente le proprie battaglie interiori. Questa giornata offre un'opportunità di riflessione sulla necessità di abbattere gli stereotipi e di promuovere una maggiore consapevolezza sui problemi di salute mentale.

Mentre indossiamo il nostro fiocchetto lilla con orgoglio, ricordiamo che ogni gesto di sostegno conta. La Giornata del Fiocchetto Lilla è un richiamo alla compassione e alla comprensione, invitando ognuno di noi a contribuire a creare un ambiente in cui chiunque possa sentirsi accettato e supportato. La lotta contro il pregiudizio e la discriminazione diventa centrale, aprendo la strada a un dialogo aperto e inclusivo sulla salute mentale.

Attraverso la consapevolezza e l'empatia, possiamo contribuire a spezzare il silenzio che avvolge le sfide della salute mentale e ad aprire la strada a una comunità più compassionevole e inclusiva.

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astro-royale · 9 months

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「Astrology: What Men find attractive」

A man with Moon in Aries likes brave, strong, capable women subconsciously seeking a leader in her; Venus in Aries provides preference for women with crew-cut who go in for sports, are slightly muscular, skinny and even bony. Such man also likes a woman to “ get “ him.

A man with Moon in Taurus likes affluent women, good cooks, women who are thrifty and who economise; with Venus in Taurus he likes plump women with pronounced feminine characteristics, courting takes place over a good meal without fail…

A man with the Moon in Gemini likes talkative, intelligent women, he goes for a “ good conversation”, likes women who look and act young and enjoy going for a spin and short trips. Venus in Gemini produces preferences for women of a very narrow waist, fine hands and shoulders …

A man with the Moon in Cancer likes women who cry easily, are stay-at-home types, good housewives and subconsciously, in a woman he seeks his mother. Venus in Cancer expresses preferences for nice breasts, provocative cleavage and likes to see his woman looking nice even at home.

A man with Moon in Leo likes successful women in high places from well-known and reputable families, he likes to be proud of his wife. Venus in Leo – a woman must be dressed exceptionally well as if she was about to take part in a beauty contest …

A man with the Moon in Virgo likes diligent women, pedantic and neat, the ones who take care of their husband’s health …Venus in Virgo provides special liking for sexy belly button, fine tummy and ordinary clothes…

A man with the Moon in Libra likes sweet and good-looking women, models, politicians, lawyers, women active in public life. With Venus in Libra he is very much receptive to women’s buttocks …

A man with the Moon in Scorpio likes women who came into a property of some kind, women with pronounced sex appeal who do not hide their charms, women whose looks and appearance imply “ a straightforward offer “…With Venus in Scorpio he likes see-through dressing style and goes for gipsy music …

The Moon in Sagittarius produces a man with a special liking for women who follow the fashion and in their appearance resemble the women from foreign countries; he likes educated women with university degree who go in for sports, especially tennis … Venus in Sagittarius makes him responsive to long legs, short skirts, shorts …

A man with the Moon in Capricorn goes for a darker complexion, dark-haired women of a serious and even melancholic expression; he also likes older women…Venus in Capricorn produces liking for conventional clothing style, women wearing leather and dressed in darker shades.

A man with the Moon in Aquarius likes outgoing women; his motto is “ friends first, relationship later “, he likes intelligent women …With Venus in Aquarius he likes eccentric-looking women of an eccentric style, is responsive to women’s legs, and especially calves.

A man with the Moon in Pisces likes mysterious, withrawn, shy women who always seem as if they are in need of protection…Venus in Pisces produces liking for fine stockings, shoes, lingerie …

What’s your opinion🤔✨?

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Original article link, by Nikola Stojanovic

#astrology notes #astrology observations #astrology #astro community #aries #pisces #gemini #taurus #cancer #leo zodiac #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #aquarius #capricorn #horoscope #moon signs #venus signs

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scoonsalicious · 19 days

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Unwanted: Chapter 16, Unaccompanied - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, allusions to sexy stuff, a long overdue conversation with Steve.

Word Count: 2.4k

Previously On...: You went to Tony for answers about how Carthage ended up on the Quinjet; he asks you to attend his annual shareholder gala on Saturday. You, vomiting, + a bunch of stuffy rich people. What could go wrong?

A/N: Quick note about how text messages are written herein: Outgoing messages (in this instance, from Pocket to Bucky) will be indicated by ">>" in front of them. Incoming messages are labeled with the contact name the phone owner has for that person in their phone. In this instance, Pocket has Bucky saved in her phone as "Magic Dick🍆🦾" lol

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Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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The gala had barely begun and you were already exhausted. Your stomach bug hadn’t let up, and you’d been vomiting for the last two days. Fortunately, you were able to get an injection of an anti-nausea medication from one of the interns down in the med bay, so even though you didn’t currently have to worry about puking your guts out on some obscenely wealthy financier, you just had to deal with the constant exhaustion you’d been feeling from your illness.

Just a few more hours, you told yourself as you brushed off the advances of yet another man old enough to be your father. Not once had anyone actually wanted to discuss the Crisis Prediction Algorithm System. It seemed you were being viewed more as potential arm candy than Stark Industries’ CTO. That alone was enough to leave you longing for an early night in your bed.

You did look amazing, though, you had to admit, even if you’d had to go a little heavy on the makeup to mask your pallor. When you asked Tony for a new dress, you’d anticipated taking the girls on a shopping trip. Tony, however, had other ideas and had sent a designer from one of the city’s top fashion houses to the Tower to collect your measurements, and then, the following day, a garment bag appeared in your room containing a striking dress in shimmering Iron Man-red. The bodice was form fitting and strapless, with an asymmetric neckline, and the skirt was full and came down to just below your ankles.

It was gorgeous, and when your hair and makeup had been completed, you looked like a princess straight out of a fairy tale. You’d sent a picture to Bucky and he’d immediately sent you back a series of panting emojis that had you laughing. The following string of text that described exactly what he wanted to do to you in the dress then had you panting, yourself. Fuck your parameters, apparently.

But now, you couldn’t wait to get out of it for an entirely different reason. The call of your pajamas was so alluring. Not only were you physically tired, but you were bored out of your mind. As this was a Stark Industries party, and not an official Avengers gathering, most of your friends had opted not to come. Rhodey was here, now almost fully recovered from his gunshot wounds, but Tony wouldn’t leave his side, so he was constantly being surrounded by people and you couldn’t really find an opening to go talk to him.

When you’d asked Nat and Wanda if they wanted to come with you, Wanda had politely declined, letting you know that she and Vision already had plans to go out of town for the weekend, while Nat just scoffed at you. “I would literally rather swallow broken glass, Pocket,” she’d said. “Those things are boring as fuck and there is not enough money you could possibly pay me to go to one, sorry.” She’d ended up going bar hopping with Clint and Sam, instead.

So, there you were, all by yourself, not even able to distract yourself with the elaborate spread of food that Tony had provided, as the thought of eating still turned your stomach, when you felt a hand at your elbow.

“Hey,” Steve said softly. His presence took you by surprise– you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d truly spoken to one another, aside from clipped conversations about work and missions. “That’s a lovely dress.” A slight blush tinted his cheeks. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Steve, hi. Um, I’m good, thank you. Just really tired. Not quite in the right headspace to schmooze, you know?” you asked him, trying to fight off the awkwardness you were feeling at speaking to him again after so long. “You look very dashing tonight.” And he did, with his dark navy suit and cream button-up.

He smiled, then held out a hand. “Would you care to dance?” he asked. You thought about it for a second. You didn’t want to lead him on, let him think you had any interest beyond the platonic relationship you’d always shared, but you were so fucking bored. One dance couldn’t hurt.

“I’d love to,” you said, taking his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor.

He was surprisingly light on his feet, given his hulking frame, and he led you through the steps with ease. You somehow managed to only step on his toes twice, which gave you both a good laugh.

“I must have forgotten all my finishing school lessons,” you teased.

“Nah, you’re doing great.” Steve sent you out for a spin, but as he twirled you back into his arms, you were overcome with a wave of dizziness and stumbled. You felt your knees give out and your body begin to collapse in its exhaustion.

“Whoa,” said Steve, using his super soldier reflexes to grab you before you could fall and hold you steady. “I got you. You wanna sit down? Rest a bit?”

You nodded and he led you over to a quiet corner where some couches had been arranged for that very purpose. He guided you down to sit, then placed himself next to you, concern clouding his features.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “Just, you know, between the nausea and the vomiting, I haven’t really been able to keep a lot of food down over the last two days. It’s got me so tired. I think I overdid it with a dance number.”

Steve chuckled, then stood up. “Let me go get you something to drink,” he said. “It’s important that you stay hydrated.” You nodded, and he was off.

With a sigh, you reached into your clutch and pulled out your phone, sending a quick text to Bucky, but knowing that, due to the time difference, he was probably sleeping.

>> I miss you.

You were quite surprised, then, when you saw the three dots appear almost immediately.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Not that I don’t miss you too, because I desperately do.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: But aren’t you supposed to be livin' it up like Cinderella at the ball?

You chuckled at that before responding.

>> This Cinderella is tired and bored and would much rather be snuggled up in bed with her metal-armed Prince Charming watching a movie or literally any other activity aside from being at this ball unaccompanied.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: You better be talking ‘bout me, doll.

>> How many other metal-armed men do I have in my life, dipshit?

>> Why are you even awake, anyway?

Magic Dick🍆🦾: I’m just teasin’ you, smart ass ;)

Magic Dick🍆🦾: I’d much rather be curled up in bed with you doin any variety of bedly activities, too >:)

Magic Dick🍆🦾: And I’m up because we’re getting ready to act on our intel and raid the communications office we were sent to find.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Hit 'em at dawn when they’re least suspectin’ it, ya know?

>> Jesus Christ, baby! Be careful!

Maybe it wasn’t a good thing you hadn’t gone on the mission– you didn’t even have the energy to imagine yourself having the energy to conduct a raid in your current state.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Always, doll. Gotta get back to my best girl, don’t I?

>> You absolutely do. Cause if I found out you died, I will kill you.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: I have no doubt that if someone were to find a way to murder me from beyond my grave, it would be you.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Shit. Sorry sweets, I gotta go.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Try to have fun. I love you.

>> I love you too, Buckaroo.

You stared at the screen for a moment longer, but there was no further reply. Wonderful. Now you would be spending what little energy you absolutely did not have to spare worrying about Bucky’s safety.

Steve returned then, handing you a cold glass dripping with condensation. “It’s lemonade,” he said as you took a sip. “I know how much you like lemons.”

You smiled in thanks, but it came out more like a grimace. Steve noticed immediately.

“Are you alright? Does it not taste good? I could go get you something else…”

You put a reassuring hand on his arm. “No, Steve, the lemonade’s fine. Thank you for getting it for me; that was very thoughtful. It’s just,” you sighed, “I was texting Bucky. He and Carthage are running a raid on a communications office as we speak, and now I’m just nervous and worried about him.”

Steve’s brow creased. “Oh,” he said, though you could tell there was more behind the word than the single syllable would imply. “I didn’t realize the two of you had gotten back together.”

Fuck. You were by far too tired to be having this conversation. Squeezing your eyes shut for a moment, you decided it was time to confront the giant elephant that had been sitting between you and the Captain for far too long. “We haven’t, not officially, anyway, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t still love each other, in spite of everything that’s happened. We’re just working on building trust. Or rather, he’s working on building trust, and I’m working on determining if I can trust him again. It’s a process.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged, the movement so minute you would have missed it if you hadn’t been watching him so closely in the moment. You took a deep breath before you continued.

“Look, Steve,” you began, “I know about your feelings for me.” His eyes shot up to meet yours, and he opened his mouth to protest, but you gently held a hand up to stop him from speaking. You needed to get everything you had to say out while you still had the energy to do so. “I’ve known for a bit, and while I’m truly flattered, and honored, that you care for me, I’m also so sorry that I don’t feel the same way about you. You’re a good man. A wonderful man, and I know most people would tell me I’m an idiot for not reciprocating, but I just don’t share those feelings.”

“It’s because of Berlin, isn’t it?” he asked softly, not meeting your gaze, and for a moment, you could see the small, shy boy Bucky had told you about from his youth.

“Berlin altered our relationship, it’s true,” you told him, “but the nature of my feelings for you were cemented long before that. You’re my family, and do I love you, but I love you as a member of that family. The way I love Tony, and Nat, and Thor, but maybe a little better than I love Clint.” Steve chuckled softly at that, and you smiled, glad you could make him laugh even a little. “I’m sorry this isn’t the answer you want to hear, and I’m sorry that you’ve had to watch me be with your best friend. None of it was ever done with the intention of deliberately causing you pain, but at the same time, I need to do what’s going to make me happy, and I hope you can accept that, as my friend and a member of my family.”

Steve looked like he was going to argue with you for a moment, but he kept his mouth shut and just nodded. “Yeah,” he said eventually. “I can accept that. It hurts,” he chuckled humorously, “but I want both you and Bucky to be happy.”

“Thanks, Stevie,” you said, suppressing a yawn. “Holy shit, I’m tired. I think I’m going to call it a night. I put in enough time to fulfill my obligation to Tony.” You stood, but immediately stumbled, the motion of standing enough to make you dizzy.

Steve was instantly on his feet, an arm out to steady you. “I got you,” he said. He put a hand to your forehead, checking your temperature. “You don’t seem to have a fever, but I’m getting worried about you, Pocket. I should escort you down to med bay.”

You waved the suggestion off. “No, it’s fine. The last thing I want is a bunch of doctors poking and prodding at me all night. I’ll be fine, I just need to sleep.”

“You can barely even stand up on your own,” Steve protested. “Let me at least walk you back to your room. Make sure you get there without falling over.” You were going to tell him you’d be fine on your own when a wave of nausea overtook you.

“Yeah, okay,” you said, clutching tightly to his arm for support. You had planned on going over to Tony and Pepper to say a proper goodbye, but given the way you were currently feeling, an Irish one was going to have to do, instead.

Steve put a hand to your back and led you out of the banquet hall. You had to stop more than once to steady yourself, and you were grateful for Steve’s assistance. By the time he’d walked you to your door, you were running on fumes.

“Do you need help getting inside?” he asked, looking worried.

“No,” you assured him. “I’ll be okay. I am literally just going to collapse into my bed. Might not even bother taking the dress off, to be honest.”

Steve blushed, and you regretted putting the idea of you getting out of your clothes into his head. “Well, if you’re sure,” he said, running a hand behind his neck, the movement so similar to Bucky that it threw you for a moment. “If there’s anything you need in the night, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me, alright?”

“Sure, Steve,” you said as he placed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. You were grateful for his help, but you knew that, even if you were suddenly dying, you would not, in fact, be calling him. “Thanks for your help.”

You wished each other a goodnight, and soon you were once again within the sanctuary of your room. Managing to summon the will from somewhere, you shimmied out of the dress, draping it over your vanity chair; it was, after all, probably far too expensive to either sleep in or leave in a puddle on the floor overnight. You debated whether or not to take the time to remove your face full of makeup but, God, your bed was just so inviting, you’d deal with the consequences in the morning.

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

162 notes · View notes

roseykat · 3 months

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TITLE: Play Night

SUMMARY: Things between Jisung and Hyunjin are heating up, and leading towards their group trip to Jeju, Jisung needs to clear a few things up with Chan; about you and him and the current secret bet in place that he unintentionally started.

TAGS: smut, handjobs, orgasms, kissing, making out, hickies, soft/fluff/slice of life moments, swearing, slight confrontation (nothing toxic), use of alcohol (Hyunjin is slightly drunk but what takes place after is consensual), some Harry Potter spoilers/references (sorry if you haven't watched HP)?

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with me, my work, or page whatsoever.

MASTERLIST - PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

🏷️LIST: @chillichillicrabcrab23 @broken-glowsticks @ihatemen55 @boi-bi-ahaha @galamxy @weareapackofstrays @anglerfishiey @elizalabs3 @princejisung @fr34k4c1dr41n @stayconnecteed @imnotjjini0325 @twinklix @meilix @dawn-iscozy @valibals @oiikaro @im-sinking-in-mud @aalexyuuuhm @baby-yongbok @1dk-anym0r3 @wealwayskeepfighting @flowersun @huening-kawaii @newhope8 @leftkittenface @20minsat180degrees @itsthatbri 🩷

“Oh, now this - what about this one?”

Hyunjin hears Jisung’s voice from the aisle beside him where all the cold drinks are located. He himself had been scanning vigorously among the shelves for his favourite brand of ramen, only to come up short. They had been to four convenience stores prior and not one had what he was looking for. It landed them a trip further away than they had expected, but neither of them complained about wandering around far from where they were supposed to be.

After he straightens up and peeks his head over the snacks to see what Jisung was talking about, he shakes his head solemnly.

“No. No, that one's grape flavoured and it tastes like children’s medicine,” he says to him.

Jisung looks down at the purple can in his possession, “that’s oddly specific - oh, then what about orange-“

“Same thing.”

Jisung huffs and gives up, placing the can back where he found it in a disgruntled fashion, “you’re an easy man to please you know, but the minute it comes to food you’re so picky.”

Hyunjin strolls around to meet Jisung on the other side after filling his basket with snacks that had caught his eye and wanted to eat during their movie night, “drinks aren’t food.”

“Then what’s soup? A drink or a food?” He fires back.

“Not this again,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes and closes the fridge for Jisung who follows behind closely.

They’ve been debating about this for a while now which started off as a very contentious pillow talk topic that now crops up frequently. Of course, they wouldn’t be themselves if they didn’t have opposing opinions. Jisung, who thinks that soup is absolutely a drink, has been pushing that agenda ever since the night he tried to cook French onion soup to impress Hyunjin.

Only, it wasn’t that impressive, and was rather just a slurry of tasteless onion water and zero seasoning. In order to not upset his friend for trying his hardest, Hyunjin did his best to stomach the interesting creation and honestly hoped that he never tried again.

“It’s an important question!” Jisung begins to protest, ready with an army of rebuttals and arguments.

“Soup is a liquid food. That doesn’t mean to say it’s a drink, because you can eat soup. Plus, some soups have chunks of food in it too.”

“That’s just vegetable water or meat water.”

“Meat water,” Hyunjin repeats in a disgusted tone. “So you’re also saying that plain water is soup too?”

“Well, if you heat it up-“

“Okay,” Hyunjin interrupts as he dumps all their items onto the counter and takes out his wallet to pay. “Stop talking.”

“Make me,” he mouths and teases quietly so that the cashier couldn’t hear him. “If you stuff my mouth with something big then it might get me to stop talking.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, again.

Nearly every waking moment that he’s around Jisung, there’s always a guarantee that he’ll make Hyunjin’s eyes roll; whether it’s because of some weird shit that comes out of his mouth, or whether it’s giving him an orgasm. Whatever the reason, Hyunjin pretends to ignore him as he collects his goods, then heads out with his best friend at his side.

The entire commute back to his apartment, Jisung kept talking. On and on, and on about an assortment of subjects that Hyunjin had no interest in. At least not now. Not when all he wanted to do was go home, not speak, and just laze around with Jisung like he has been for the past few weeks. That thought seems to trigger a very sobering realisation that dawns on him as they ride the train back to his place.

As Hyunjin looks at the side of Jisung’s face who’s been rambling on about his opinion on the best types of pasta, he realises that they’ve been hooking up for the past few weeks. They kiss, make out, do other things, but not once have they had sex. Yet. They haven’t even talked about it, and yet, a part of Hyunjin had to wonder; was there any point in even talking let alone thinking about it if whatever is going on between them, isn’t going to last?

His eyebrows knit together. He doesn’t want to think about that. Hyunjin doesn’t know whatever feelings Jisung has right now, but the one thing he knows is that he likes the sense of comfort that hanging around him brings. What if he asks and disrupts what they have? What if he asks and ruins Jisung’s thoughts on him?

As those questions infiltrate his psyche, his head lowers and comes to rest on Jisung’s shoulder, eyelids closing softly, “wake me up when we get to our stop please.”

Jisung’s big brown eyes turn into the size of plates, a little bit taken aback that Hyunjin, a person who isn’t that huge on public displays of affection, is resting on him right now. Not to mention the privileged feeling that inflates Jisung whenever a person rests their head on his shoulder, which is very rare. It’s like some physical way of saying that Hyunjin trusts him, or feels comfortable around him at the very least.

He scans up and down the cart where no members of the public come into his view. Grateful for their absence, Jisung feels safe by reciprocating the same affections. So he places his hand on Hyunjin’s upper thigh, and he too rests his head against his friends’.

For the next five minutes, Jisung and Hyunjin would ride the train back to his place in peace. Neither of them spoke a word until they reached their stop. The pair of them hop up, Hyunjin stands and stretches his long limbs as he and his friend head inside the apartment complex.

Once they return to his place, Hyunjin prepares all the snacks for them on his coffee table, while Jisung gets the movie ready that they - he - wanted to watch.

“Harry Potter? Again?” Hyunjin groans, taking the plastic wrap off of the kimbap to share and setting it down on the surface once they’ve both sunken down onto the couch.

“What do you mean ‘again’?” Jisung shoots him a dirty look. He’s always been pretty serious about his Harry Potter, having watched the movies over a thousand times and read the books back to back. “This is the next part of the series, thank you.”

Hyunjin sighs and makes himself comfortable. He then heads to his fridge to grab a couple of bottles of soju and some shot glasses. Back at the convenience store, he meant to buy something non alcoholic, had he not been so picky about the flavours Jisung presented to him he wouldn’t be deciding on whether he should have alcohol or not. In saying that, it was nice to have a drink.

He strolls back to the coffee table with their final items and places them all down.

"Oh, yum," Jisung gasps and reaches for the bottle, unscrews the cap and starts pouring the clear liquid into both shot glasses already.

Hyunjin stares at him as he downs the alcohol in one smooth go, "alright then..."

Jisung holds up the other shot glass for Hyunjin, "your turn."

He takes it in hand, careful not to spill it on the rug beneath him - then again, it's seen a lot more messier liquids on it than alcohol.

"Yuck," Hyunjin retches after swallowing half of the contents in the glass.

"Come on, you know you like it," Jisung nudges him. "You know the saying; if you can handle cum, you can handle alcohol."

Hyunjin nearly sprays out the rest of the alcohol from his mouth as a muddle of amusement, concern, and curiosity wakes him up more than the semi-burn of the drink does, "and who said that exactly?"

"Me," he answers. "Hence why I can take both so well."

Like some of the time, Jisung wasn't wrong and summed it up with another shot before he picked up the remote to play the movie. He settles back comfortably while Hyunjin takes another shot of the soju.

He makes it through the first twenty minutes of the film, then reaches the part where Harry Potter suddenly gets selected for the Triwizard Tournament. By that point, Hyunjin was sure the alcohol had fully trickled into his bloodstream when he wasn't able to tell the difference between Mad Eye Moody and Hagrid.

Frames started to blend together and yet, he thought it was still a good idea to continue drinking to see if that would help. However, most good idea turn to bad ones. The alcohol began to play absolutely no part in trying to help him make sense of the plot and made him focus on other things rather than the movie.

It was safe to say that he grew steadily bored when it came to watching it. At the same time, he didn't have the heart in him to express his opinion to the person beside him who was so wrapped up in the universe on screen. Jisung's eyes were completely glued to the digital motions before him whereas Hyunjin's eyes were glued to him.

Boredom strikes him bad when he feels the need to lean over and make his long body comfortable on Jisung. Hyunjin's upper torso stretches over his friend's lap who doesn't pay too much mind to it. Jisung even hangs his arms over Hyunjin's abdomen while he watches the film contently.

It's not the type of physical contact he wants right now.

"Jisungie," he mutters into the couch.

"Hmm?"

"Can we do something else?" Hyunjin pleads rather than asks.

He never gets a response. The lounge continues to be filled with dialogue - something along the lines of Ron Weasly now having a go at Harry for being inducted into the tournament and not telling him. Hyunjin's had enough of it and for whatever reason he feels like, he slides off of Jisung's lap. Half of his body slumps onto the ground while the other half remains somewhat on the couch.

"What are you doing?" he snorts, grabbing onto Hyunjin's hands and trying to hoist him back up.

He awkwardly anchors his legs around Jisung's body in an effort to help pull himself up as well but ends up knocking his head on the edge of the coffee table. With a delayed reaction, Hyunjin winces and then laughs as he tries to rub his own head even while Jisung is still trying to save him from falling off completely.

"Here just - just stop moving so I can help," he leans back and uses all his arm strength to move what is practically dead weight to him.

Hyunjin puts in zero effort to help and instead becomes a giggling mess the second he's actually able to get back into Jisung's lap. When he does, his long limp limbs wrap themselves around the man beneath him. He hides his face in the crook of his neck, the sudden whiff of Jisung's skin almost makes him dizzy, making his mood do a complete one eighty degree turn.

It creates immense difficulty in trying to swallow the urge to plant a kiss over the soft area, earning a very quiet yet distinct hum from Jisung. Hyunjin repeats the same action, longer this time and in different spots that his tongue can swipe over. The grip Hyunjin barely knew was there on his hips, twitched in place. As if Jisung's nails are trying to dig into Hyunjin's flesh had he not worn clothes.

"Hey," Jisung alerts him. “Can’t watch the movie if all you’re trying to do is get on my dick- ah…”

Hyunjin’s mouth shuts his right up from one sharp suck into his skin. His tongue flattens over the fresh red plum mark. The sight of it alone makes Hyunjin want to decorate them over every inch of Jisung’s body, similar to the style of how he would paint a canvas - which he does. Over as much skin as Jisung lets him when he moves his head to allow Hyunjin to cover more skin.

“Y-You’ll…you’ll get me hard,” he warns, now unable to concentrate on the film.

Hyunjin pulls away from his neck, giving him a rest from the myriad of hickies he’ll have to worry about later, and looks him down in the eye, “that’s sort of the point.”

Their mouths draw together like magnets, like they’ve been doing for weeks. Every day they find their lips on the others or some body party of theirs. Jisung gets to relish and dawn in the softness of Hyunjin’s lips, letting him slip past further to explore his mouth. His needs not only start to show through in his pants, but in his breathing and frantic pace of trying to feel Jisung that he almost can’t keep up with him.

So he decides that he needs to contain him a bit, bring him down a few notches to reminds him that he’s not in charge - at least for now.

With that, Jisung wraps his hand right around Hyunjin’s waist and manoeuvres him onto his back. The abrupt shift in control makes him act up almost instantly. Hyunjin is grabbing at Jisung’s shirt trying pull his body back down to his, but his muscles are weak and tired from drinking that it makes it too easy for Jisung to straddle his hips and pin his hands to the side of his head.

“Look what you’ve done to yourself,” he tells Hyunjin right in his ear while he rolls his ass down over the dick that's hardening underneath him. "Gonna be fucking begging when I'm through with you."

At that point, the pair had gone beyond the fact of not completing a full movie night. With the way that Jisung continues to pin Hyunjin back and exchange the manifold of hickies across the planes of his throat and neck. If anyone walked into the apartment, they would’ve thought vampires truly existed with the way Jisung’s mouth was latched onto his best friend’s skin.

“T-The movie,” Hyunjin stammers hopelessly with his words. “Jisung…the movie…”

Jisung lets out a sinister chuckle as he pushes himself back up to take off his shirt and tosses it somewhere around the lounge, "fuck the movie. You started this. This is what you wanted, isn't it? To rile me up and now you've gone all shy on me."

Hyunjin doesn't listen. His first instinct is to reach out and grab Jisung’s waist, to caress his hand freely for a few moments before gliding down and grasping the flesh over his hips. The slight sting in it makes him buck his hips forward and over Hyunjin’s clothed cock, making him groan lowly. He could cum easily like this - so easily and has done.

Every position they get into to practically dry hump each other, he always imagines that this is what it would be like if Jisung was riding his throbbing cock. To cum inside him and watch his face contorts the way that it does whenever Hyunjin makes him orgasm.

That thought sparks a wire in his brain, causing him to suddenly jerk his hips up and into Jisung. He smirks down at him, soaking up the state of the man beneath him. The hickies, red and wet kissable lips, dozy eyes that slowly blink up at him…

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Jisung mutters in exasperation like he's never seen Hyunjin's body before. “Just wanna f-”

Blaring on the coffee table next to all of the opened snacks was Jisung’s phone, he quickly bends over to the side to reach for it in urgency while still trying to straddle. Hyunjin twists his body carefully with Jisung still on top, picking the remote off the floor that had fallen after being pinned back. He pauses the movie for a moment to let Jisung answer his call.

A small weight sinks in his stomach as he speaks in shock, “it’s Chan."

"M-Maybe you should answer it," Hyunjin tries his best to talk over the exponential rate of how much he is turned on right now.

“Hello?” He answers.

“Jisung! Do you not answer your texts? I sent about six just before!”

He pulls his phone away from his ear and checks his notifications. His friend was right, Jisung had in fact missed his messages. But not on purpose of course. If he hadn't been so busy provoking Hyunjin whose hands started sliding up Jisung’s thighs, dangerously close to his tented crotch, he would've seen the texts.

Hyunjin's fingertips delicately trace over where Jisung's cock begins to harden. His eyebrows furrow immediately as Chan continues speaking on the other end of the line about how he’s still surprised that Jisung didn’t answer him right away.

“You’re always on your phone, I thought you might’ve been quick to respond,” says Chan.

“Oh, yeah not this time,” he responds truthfully, to some degree. “I’ve been watching Harry Potter all evening and-“

The words ready to leave Jisung's mouth die before they make it out as Hyunjin mischievously, and very clearly, starts to palm Jisung’s hard length over his pants. It didn’t take him that long to start leaking from his tip, creating a very visible dark patch over his shorts.

“…and-“

Hyunjin then reaches into the slot of the material, past his boxers and frees his cock. For a few moments, he takes away his hand just to admire how Jisung looks right now. The fact that he tried to finish what Hyunjin started, only to have the tables turned on him again. He flushes with embarrassment at the fact that without Hyunjin’s grasp around his length, his dick was able to stand tall on its own; so needy and desperate for touch.

“And what?” Chan’s voice suddenly startles him out of his situation.

“And I just lost track of time, that’s all,” Jisung continues as calmly as he can.

“No worries. I haven’t watched Harry Potter in years. I think the last might’ve been Prisoner of Azkaban? No, Goblet of Fire? It was the one where…”

Chan’s voice drifts out of Jisung’s mind despite the fact that he’s right in his ear on the other line. His face contorts at the sudden pleasure he receives as Hyunjin takes hold of his neglected cock once more. His eyes dart sharply down to his own length and the large hand which begins to slowly tug.

“…he gets chosen for the tournament when he really didn’t put his name into the cup…”

Jisung brings a shaky hand to his mouth, covering it immediately so as to mask and muffle something that could end up as a future regret. Hyunjin knows all too well what sort of sounds can come out of that mouth of his too, for it has reverberated around the walls of his apartment, stifled into his pillows, caught in the back of his throat which usually serves as a path for Hyunjin’s cum these days.

He’s heard it all before.

For Jisung to keep a lid on all of those possibilities is a smart move, especially if they want to uphold the secrecy of their situation.

“…and I’m pretty sure it’s the one where Cedric dies.”

“Y-Yeah,” he responds shakily. “That’s the one we - I’m watching at the moment.”

“Maybe I should rewatch the first two,” Chan suggests to himself. “It’s the only series I can actually watch and understand without it being too complicated. I tried watching Lord of the Rings before but it’s too…”

Once more, Chan’s voice becomes a distant sound as Jisung tries to stop himself from bucking his hips into Hyunjin’s hand. But it’s not possible. He can’t just ignore the fact that he’s been horny since Hyunjin made him all hot and bothered, and now he’s built up to maximum capacity where his body craves release.

“So what time suits you?” Chan asks randomly.

“Time for what?” Jisung responds back in confusion, his mind blending together like mush when Hyunjin has gotten into a steady pace.”

“To hang out tomorrow!”

“Oh, right! Ah - um, lunchtime? Twelve…” He suggests, his hips still rutting.

“Alright sounds good. I’ll see you there okay?” Chan asks.

“I’m cumming - I mean, I-I’ll come! I’ll be coming - going there,” Jisung stammers terribly with his words. “F-Fuck sorry, just…I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Chan laughs on the other end of the line, “see you then.”

Jisung has never hung up faster, the phone toppling out of his possession as he rocks his hips into Hyunjin’s grasp. It also gave him the ability to rut his ass against Hyunjin’s hard length below him. Then within a split second, the lid that Jisung was trying so hard to contain over what his body needed to do, came off.

“Fuck, gonna cum, m’cumming!” He cries out.

Hyunjin grins, and does not dare let up on his hand twisting and gliding on the length currently in his power, “I heard you the first time. How humiliating would that have been for you if Chan realised you were getting a handjob. Too bad he can't hear you whining so pathetically-“

Air hitches in Jisung’s throat, and for a few seconds too long Hyunjin looks into his eyes and sees tears welling up. A terrible, cold sinking feeling expands in his stomach, making him realise that he just said something awful to Jisung.

“W-Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t-

It was too late. Loud moans rupture violently through Jisung’s chest - ones that Hyunjin knows his neighbours are familiar with by now because by no means is Han Jisung quiet. He will let Hyunjin know how he’s making his body feel now explodes from immense pressure.

His rutting against Hyunjin’s cock becomes staggered as a result of trying to chase his orgasm. Jisung clutches onto Hyunjin’s shirt, the fabric balling up tightly along with his fist. He can’t stop, he doesn’t want to stop, until eventually that buildup releases erratically in flows of white that spill over his tip and dribble down Hyunjin’s hand. Jisung had never cum that hard from a handjob before.

He finishes gasping for air when he starts coming down, slowly rocking his ass over Hyunjin’s crotch to ease himself off the euphoria. Beneath him is a different story.

Hyunjin was mortified for making him cry, so shocked that he was frozen and couldn’t take his hand off of Jisung’s dick. But that didn’t matter. Jisung had the intention of finishing what he started, to feel so good that all his problems melted away.

Hyunjin sits up immediately, so close to Jisung’s face as he needs to check in with his friend, “are you okay? I’m so, so sorry, I don’t even know why I said that. It just...it just came out of my mouth.”

He wipes his eyes after a couple of tears fell down his face in the process of dry riding Hyunjin. Part of what just happened makes him laugh breathily and nods, “yeah. I’m okay.”

“Jisung, I’m really, really sorry,” he quickly says and means it, trying to look him in the eye.

“No, oh my god don’t be sorry,” he assures him. “I’m fine, seriously.”

“Then…then why are you crying?” Hyunjin asks the million dollar question, still acting out of horror.

He gives a lazy shrug, “I dunno how to explain it properly, but I like that kind of talk. It just…yeah. I’m not too sure. I suppose I teared up because I haven't actually cum that hard before.”

“I…didn’t know you were into…that,” Hyunjin doesn’t know how to reply to that type of statement, now that he just found out his friend likes being humiliated. Out of all things Jisung would be into, it had to be that.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know,” he replies, leaning over to the coffee table just a bit to pick up the box of tissues to clean Hyunjin’s hand.

“W-What did Chan want?” He asks even though he doesn't want to stray away from the topic to make sure his friend is still okay.

Jisung slides off of his body and in between his legs rather awkwardly. From this stance, it’s easy to see the large tent in Hyunjin’s pants that he was grinding on as he made himself comfortable. He smooths the palm of his hand over Hyunjin's hard length and slowly back down. In doing so forces a couple of strained sighs out of his mouth.

“Wants to hang out tomorrow,” he answers, reaching into Hyunjin’s shorts to feel his hard cock. The same cock that keeps him coming back, that makes him feel heated and irrational.

In Jisung’s opinion, anyone would be lucky to have someone like his friend in front of him. Even though they haven’t had sex, he knows how Hyunjin fucks, having seen the way he made you cum weeks ago - it only makes Jisung wonder what it would be like to actually cum around Hyunjin’s cock.

It’s what he wants, needs in fact whenever they’re together.

Hyunjin bites his lip and throws his head down onto the couch, “y-you going to?”

“Course I am,” Jisung replies, thumbing over the dark pink tip that leaks clear glossy precum. “Need to ask him about Y/N and what the situation is there.”

A dreadful ball of weight pummels Hyunjin from behind when he hears your name in the same sentence as ‘Chan’. Not to mention, as Jisung said, your ‘situation’ with him currently which Hyunjin doesn’t want to process. He likes being oblivious to the fact that Chan is sleeping with you. That he gets to fill you up, that he just gets to see you. Whether Jisung was telling the truth or not about you and him sleeping together, he acts as if you’re not to save himself from the reality of it.

“D-Do you really need to?” Hyunjin asks hesitantly, fumbling terribly with his words as Jisung lowers his head down and licks one long stripe from the base of Hyunjin’s cock, right to his dark pink tip.

“Yes,” he confirms, but doesn’t truly tell him why for reasons far too similar to his friend here.

After giving his answer, Jisung sinks his mouth onto Hyunjin’s cock, just half of it to tease him. Bobbing his head a couple of times causes Hyunjin’s to grab the side of the couch while the other flies to land on top of Jisung’s head.

“What if…if he doesn’t say anything?” He questions breathlessly.

Jisung pops back up, and leans over Hyunjin’s abdomen to ask him in his face, his question bears some perspective to the situation, “do you want me to blow you, or not?”

Hyunjin uses the hand that’s not ready to brace his body by the side of the couch and tucks a long lock of Jisung’s dark brown hair behind his ear, “yes.”

“Then please shut your mouth and let me,” he demands.

It wasn’t hard for Hyunjin’s eyelids to shut and squeeze together. Receiving a blowjob from Jisung always feels like he’s had his soul sucked out of him; he doesn’t know where he learned it, but isn’t complaining either because it put Hyunjin to sleep ten minutes after they cleaned themselves up. By the time he and Jisung crawled into bed together, he had forgotten having the conversation with Jisung about you and Chan. Yet, only to be reminded of it the following day when Jisung woke up at half past eleven in the morning.

He was scheduled to meet Chan at one of his favourite lunch spots nearby and was in no mood to meet him. Being the morning person he is not, Jisung found himself struggling immensely to get out of bed and Hyunjin’s long arms that were encasing him.

Although he didn’t feel like leaving, he thought it would be best to just go as it had been a while since he saw Chan last. More importantly, he needed to confront him about what’s going on. Mainly for his own piece of mind.

He remembers something in his stomach sinking when he read that text on your phone. Despite the intense shock he felt when he discovered that you and Chan were hooking up, he wasn’t able to diverge from his own feelings. Something which he struggles to get across and might depending on the outcome of the lunch with one of the people in question.

Jisung steps out of the shower with a towel around his waist as he goes to sit on the end of the bed to open some of the drawers to his dresser. He pulls out a cream coloured jersey, some underwear, and a pair of sweatpants.

The fact that he needs to borrow so many articles of clothing is just another potent reminder that he should be packing and taking an overnight bag whenever he goes to hang out with Hyunjin. Nine times out of ten, Jisung will always say he’s only coming over for the afternoon then ends up staying for more than one day at a time.

The sheets ruffle beneath Hyunjin’s body as he stirs himself awake. He sits up, bed head on full view and eyes barely open, “what are you doing?”

“Borrowing some clothes,” Jisung answers trying to ignore how hot his morning voice sounds. “I’ll bring you back some food to compensate.”

“You said that last time,” he grumbles sleepily. “I’m also down four of my favourite jerseys because of you.”

Jisung throws on the material over his top half before crawling his way on the mattress to Hyunjin. He kisses him unexpectedly yet expectedly on the lips.

“Just go back to sleep,” he whispers. “I’ll see you after.”

With his confirmation, Hyunjin’s top half flops back against the mattress before Jisung pulls the white duvet back over his body, tucking him in. He had no trouble falling back asleep when Jisung lightly brushes some strands of his hair out of his face. However, without the distraction of him touching Hyunjin, Jisung couldn’t help but feel nervous.

He already knew that you and Chan were sleeping together. That text long affirmed that. Yet for how long and what for remained to be a sickening twist of fearful questions lugging Jisung’s stomach down. He didn’t really want to hear the answers from Chan if he can even stomach that conversation. He didn’t want to hear ‘yes we’ve been fucking’ or the ‘yeah, it’s true’ answers.

In saying that, Jisung has a trait of bottomless curiosity. That itch to find out for his own personal gain was going to make or break him. At that, he dons on the matching coloured sweats, grabs his phone and wallet, and then heads out of Hyunjin’s apartment.

After a train ride away, it doesn’t take long for Jisung to arrive, and apparently not for Chan either, who was already seated, waiting for his friend. An assortment of dishes had already been brought to the table, making Jisung realise how hungry he was since breakfast was no longer.

“How the fuck did you get here so fast, you live on the other side of the city,” Jisung exclaims to him from behind as he approaches.

“Hey. I couldn’t wait any longer because I was hungry,” Chan complains in a whiny tone. “Came here earlier to order, so I couldn’t wait.”

“Good, that makes things easier because I didn’t know what I was going to get anyway,” he replies and sits down in the booth opposite Chan. He hasn't changed much. Then again, it hasn't been too long since he's seen him last. “Been busy?”

He shakes his head, “you have no idea.”

“Thought you might’ve been,” Jisung responds, eyeing him intently to see if he gives off even the subtlest signs of a lie. “Haven’t seen you in almost a month, what’ve you been up to?”

Chan shrugs, “work and tutoring some of these students at the University.”

Jisung gives a firm nod, believing him and understanding how tiresome that must be to help teach students. It’s not until he pauses and realises that Uni semesters haven’t started yet. Even summer semester students are on break. He could’ve called him out on his bullshit now to see what answers he would get, but for the sake of wanting to find out other information, he keeps that to himself.

“Shit, sounds tough,” Jisung sympathises with him, or at least tries to if he was lying.

“How ‘bout you?”

“Same old. Working - you’re still coming to Jeju right?” He asks on a different subject.

“Yeah, of course. I took leave for it,” Chan answers as a puzzled look then befalls on his face. For a moment, his eyes narrow at Jisung, or rather his chest, trying to decipher what’s wrong with the picture he’s currently seeing.

“What?” He asks, trying to follow his gaze.

“You and Hyunjin have the same jersey,” Chan points out, realising what the flaw was.

“Oh, I know, that loser keeps copying everything I wear,” Jisung quickly plays it cool because unbeknownst to Chan, it is in fact Hyunjin’s jersey.

“Why are you wearing a scarf by the way?” Jisung tries to direct the attention away from himself

He hadn’t noticed the black item wrapped warmly around Chan’s neck until he began to panic whilst digging up something else to switch topics. The heat Jisung feels like he’s already being dragged under was starting to make him feel uneasy.

“The same reason you’re wearing a jersey on a thirty degree day,” Chan fires back just as fast but more nonchalantly to just about make Jisung sweat.

It forces him to wonder what on earth this reason is that his friend is talking about, and why he’s being so cryptic.

His face twists into confusion, mildly surprised when he realises Chan is trying to clock him for something that he doesn’t even know about or what for. Then again, it’s Chan. When is he not this observant?

“And what reason is that?” He responds with an accusatory tone.

Chan doesn’t answer, not directly. He only lifts his chin up slightly and points to his own throat, confusing the hell out of Jisung as to what he means. When it’s clear that the message can’t cross his mind, Chan rolls his eyes, and reaches into his pockets to take out his phone. He pulls up the selfie camera mode and hands it to Jisung to look at.

Apart from seeing his own reflection, he can see something else; a few splotches of dark, reddish marks littered all over his throat. At first he thought he had a rash, but wasn’t too sure what he was looking at. However, upon closer inspection, he moves the camera a bit closer to his throat and takes a photo on Chan’s phone to see it better.

After his quick analysis, Jisung knew instantly what they were. More importantly, who it came from. Hickies, and from none other than the only person he’s been messing around with, Hyunjin. Jisung didn’t even bother covering them up.

He hastily hands Chan’s phone back after deleting the photo, “so what?”

“Suppose you forgot you had them, judging by your reaction,” Chan guessed correctly, completely stumping Jisung who’s nearly lifting his own body off his seat as he tries to come up with an argument.

“Well…I suppose you didn’t know that I know you and Y/N are fucking which explains the scarf too but here we are!” He blurts out before he even has time to think about stopping the words from coming out of his mouth.

Chan’s hand stalls over the pot of stew while Jisung’s lips are pursed together. All the colour in his face has drained, almost making him feel lightheaded that he just said that out loud. In saying that, this is exactly the topic he wanted to discuss - you and Chan. He just wasn’t expecting the conversation to meander in such a way that nearly exposes himself and threw him way off the track of ever raising the subject.

“And what makes you think that?” Chan resumes ladling some of the hot stew into his bowl of rice.

Jisung knows that you can’t unring a bell so makes the split decision and decides to come clean, “I was using Y/N’s phone for something, and that’s where I saw a text message from you, hinting that you guys were sleeping together.”

“Ah,” Chan recalls immediately at the sudden confession. “From that little truth or dare game you, her and Hyunjin played?”

Jisung’s jaw unhinges, staring across the table towards his friend who seems to be a search engine for the topic of ‘everything Jisung has done lately.’ Nearly every minute that passes, Chan slaps him with a new fact that his friend wasn’t expecting him to know.

“You - but, how did- did Hyunjin-“

Chan’s already shaking his head before Jisung can muster a proper sentence, “Hyunjin never said a word. In fact he hasn’t been replying to my texts so I haven’t heard from him.”

“Then…then Y/N?”

“Well it couldn’t have been you or anyone else that was there.”

Jisung isn’t angry. He’s just shocked that he keeps getting one upped. Chan finding out that Jisung had a threesome with two of his best friends - one of them who he’s been fucking for some time now too - was far more of a juicy topic than just you and Chan seeing each other casually, which Jisung still doesn’t know the full details of.

“Said she had never cum like that in her entire life,” Chan adds, burying Jisung another meter or so deeper into this hole of new scandalous information.

His body freezes over. Suddenly, it’s not thirty degrees and everything feels cold. Jisung doesn’t ever really hear Chan talk about his sex life. Even when he was in a relationship with his ex, each of his friends tried to dissect as many details about it as they could. But they were never successful. That was a result of keeping things as private and low key as possible.

Nevertheless, Chan’s crude and very straightforward words had knocked Jisung right off his feet. The fact that you had told him what must’ve been very clear details of that night at Hyunjin’s was a sign that it still lingered on your brain. Part of his ego secretly swells with joy because of it.

“Then I felt like I needed to outdo you guys after that,” he adds.

“What do you mean?” Jisung questions with a tone of an impending doom that looms over him.

Chan smiles sweetly, memories stirring of that night in particular he had with you. It had to be one of the best times by far to him, “you know what I mean.”

Jisung’s skin stings with scorching hot jealousy; he knows exactly what Chan means. The fact of the matter is that he can’t believe he’s saying these types of things to him. Then again, there’s only one reason why Jisung would be so affected by it and he didn’t want to display that in front of Chan without figuring out what it means. But whatever it is that’s tugging at the organ beating hard and fast in his chest, makes him furious.

“Alright then,” he replies unfazed as he possibly could, swallowing the tough pill before realising there was one other thing he wanted to mention. “Suppose you guys are still seeing each other.”

Chan looks Jisung right in his eyes as he slowly retracts the spoon out of his mouth, “maybe.”

“So yes then.”

“What does it mean to you?” He tests him, almost sadistically.

“It means nothing to me,” Jisung answers rather bitterly and nastily, his entire aura switching up before he finds a new tether to lure the spotlight away from himself. “Just the fact that I told the others about you two, and they made a bet.”

Chan looks up, “a bet?”

“None of them believed me, so they made a bet to see whether you guys were or not even though I said so.”

If he didn’t have food in his mouth, Chan would’ve laughed, instead a disgruntled chuckle came out along with a couple of specs of his rice, “course they wouldn’t! Why would they believe that the two polar opposite people would be screwing behind everyone’s back?”

“You're not mad?” Jisung checks to be sure.

He shakes his head, “course not, dunno if Y/N won’t be though. She said she likes keeping things pretty private-“

“Clearly not if she told you she had a threesome,” Jisung cuts him off at that point.

“Well, there’s some exceptions to that,” Chan shrugs, finishing off his bowl of rice. “I don’t know if this means anything to you but, she wouldn’t shut up about sleeping with you and Hyunjin. She told me every single detail like for instance, when you and Hyunjin made out-“

The tongs fall out of Jisung’s tight grip and clatter onto the table. He brings his hands up to his eyes, covering his entire face to hide whatever embarrassing feelings that start to simmer on the surface. However, Chan didn’t seem to care and continued on with his points to prove.

“-how she liked it when you went down on her, how you watched Hyunjin fuck her - I told you what I meant about the details, right? Anyway,” he says. “She was raving about it. And yet, when she and I started seeing each other casually, she said that she didn’t want me to tell anyone else. That I needed to take what we have to the grave.”

Jisung removes his hands away from his face and looks down at his own food, unsure if he can stomach any more of it with the way the conversation has been handled. The more he talks and thinks about you, the more he feels like he’s being filled up with this bad gloomy feeling. He has to wonder if Chan is just being plain cruel to him by dumping all of his thoughts and information onto him.

He has to wonder, would it have been better to stay oblivious rather than being teased with snippets of what you’ve been saying to Chan these past few weeks. Hearing about how much you enjoyed yourself with him and Hyunjin yet haven’t directly spoken to them since that night.

“What are you saying?” Jisung questions, tired with the bullshit that’s starting to spike in their discussion.

“The fact that she wants to keep our…activities a secret from people and rather them not find out about us, yet is the first to speak highly of what you, her and Hyunjin did, means something more than you think.”

More than he thinks? Jisung can’t understand what that could’ve possibly meant. He sits there, bewildered and stumped. Unsure of what else to say.

“Right,” he responds.

Chan watches him warily, trying to gauge his behaviour as he decides to change the topic, “so, what’s on the table for this bet?”

Jisung quickly pries himself away from his messy mind and answers, “losers have to buy a days’ worth of food when we go to Jeju.”

Chan nods, impressed as he reaches for more meat on the grill and loads it into his bowl, “even less of a reason to be mad. Looks like I’ll be eating for free either way.”

"Yeah, looks like it."

The span of Jisung's vocabulary seemed to fail him. That and the fact that he didn't really want to talk anymore. Yes, it was good to see one of his best friends, but the circumstances that developed throughout their lengthy conversation made him wish he stayed in bed with Hyunjin just the extra bit longer so he would have to cancel lunch.

He managed to finish off small bowls of food to not make himself appear out of character. One whiff of anything remotely aberrant on Jisung's behalf, and Chan would hold him hostage in the restaurant until he tells him what's wrong. Despite that, Chan noticed something off anyway.

He saw the way Jisung's face fell when he confirmed that he was sleeping with you. He saw how his shoulders drooped and then picked up when he mentioned that you told him about the night at Hyunjin's. He saw how defensive and sceptical Jisung became whenever he would just simply mention you.

He saw that Jisung was hiding something.

When both friends had finished enjoying their meals, they were greeted with a downpour of rain that would have them seeking refuge under the veranda of the restaurant once they were outside. Just before they bid farewell to each other, Chan quickly turns to Jisung and calls out.

“It’s okay if you like her,” he says out of nowhere. “Y/N and I are not what you might think we are and we made it clear to each other that we never will be. There’s nothing between her and I, just so you know.”

Jisung stares at him, not showing any emotions on his face even though deep down, his brain and insides are whirring with emotions he can't even fathom, “I don’t like her like that.”

Chan laughs at him, unfazed with the sudden tension that seems to be slicing through them, “keep telling yourself that. See you next week.”

Through the deluge of rain and shadows from the dark, dense clouds above, Chan runs off in the opposite direction to where he needs to head home. Jisung stands there defeated and shocked that Chan is onto his tail that he likes you. He knew that heading into meeting up with him meant that the truth was going to come out one way or the other. Suppose it was just not on his terms.

It stirs many thoughts as he throws his hood up and ducks out into the rain to head to the train station and back to the safety of Hyunjin.

When he returns, Jisung keys in the passcode to unlock the door to the apartment, and is smothered with a waft of a sweet decadent scent. Standing in the kitchen, Hyunjin was at the stove flipping over what looked to be pancakes which suddenly reminded Jisung-

“Fuck, oh my god. The food, I forgot to even order it,” Jisung groans when he closes the door behind him.

Hyunjin turns the element dial on low and spins around to lean on the counter, away from the stove tops, "it's okay. I felt like something sweet anyway."

Jisung sighs. It felt right to be back with Hyunjin once more even though he had only been out for a couple of hours. In saying that, his conversation with Chan was good but draining. It’s not that he doesn’t like him for telling him the truth, there’s absolutely no doubt about that. Chan is and will always be his friend.

There is no emotional connection between you and him and that’s all that matters to Jisung. However, it’s just the truth in itself that he has an issue with - you hooking up with Chan every now and then that is. It makes him feel uneasy and almost makes him feel like he’s doing something immoral by just sitting back and watching it happen.

The reality stings where he doesn’t like it so pushes himself from the edge of the bench and walks into Hyunjin’s body to retreat from his thoughts. Slightly taken aback but not oblivious to the strange display of emotions Jisung is presenting, Hyunjin sets the spatula down beside him and hugs his friend back.

“You okay?” He questions, concern dripping all over his face.

Jisung nods his head on his chest, “yeah. Just socialising, now I’m tired.”

It wasn’t a lie, but not the truth either. Regardless, Hyunjin takes his word for it without thinking twice about it. He had completely forgotten why Jisung had gone to see Chan for in the first place.

“Wanna nap together?”

“Didn’t you just wake up?” Jisung pulls one arm away from Hyunjin’s body while the other still rests there so that he can rub his eyes.

"Well," Hyunjin looks away from him. "That's beside the point. Just...missed you is all too.”

"Cute," he grumbles, ignoring what the weight of those words truly means. "I should pack for next week though because knowing me, I'll leave everything until the last minute."

Hyunjin lets out a long sigh. He hasn't even thought about putting a suitcase together yet either, "true. I should probably start packing as well."

"Okay then let’s both get ready," Jisung looks up at him before leaning in to plant a soft kiss on Hyunjin's lips, slowly pulling away and says quietly; "see you in Jeju."

Hyunjin responds, look at him, “see you in Jeju.”

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#stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin x jisung #rosiewritesskz #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut

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