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#and the other two managers’ reactions and only one of y’all cared! that’s bullshit!!

chanluster · 3 years

Text

10/10 | {m} ; {c} ; {f}

oneshot | friends with benefits! au | 18.7k words

“Because what you feel for your best friend cannot be described in words, but in numbers.”

s u m m a r y > > you and bang chan had no secrets between one other. each detail of your life would be discussed with your best friend of forever, no matter how insignificant it may be, through a little system you both had concocted — through a small rating. a number out of ten. a simple concept, used from being a child and rating your cookie a solid eight out of ten to your later years in high school, giving your first kiss a measly five. however, when you confess an average rating of your sex life in one hazy evening, chan decides this dilemma cannot be solved with buying you consolation cookies. he must simply raise that rating, all by himself.

w a r n i n g s > > friends to lovers! au, college! au, music! major chan, music! major reader, you both are literally soulmates, came out the womb holding hands, so much teasing, sexual! tension! chan has a massive fucking cock (i mean isn’t it obvious already), shit loads of making out, aggression, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe homies!!!), kinda hate sex, orgasming left and right, ex! hyunjin, who’s also really bad at sex lmfaoaoao sorry king, chan is hella soft dom at the start but goes !!! hella hard later!!!! (i mean idk but) shit ton of fluff, friend! jisung which chan gets soooo jealous of, reader is so fucking annoyin, teensy weensy bit of angst, and yeh basically me venting out my love for chan once again

p l a y l i s t > > here!

a u t h o r ’ s n o t e > > this is dedicated to my dear friend chloe, boo i love u so much and thank you for that insane prompt :( also help this feels so rushed to me at the end but i hope y’all do enjoy <3

t a g l i s t > > @hanflix @thatonepieceofpineapple @kimkailover @decembermoonskz @smilesohwas @missskzbiased @illicit-roses @embroideredstarz @freckledquokka @moonluvbunny @aliceu @coupscarat @maedesculpaeusoubi @baby-wolf @multi-fandom-kpop-stan @minaamhh @leescrt

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“I’M SORRY, BUT I DON’T THINK I CAN DO THIS ANYMORE.”

Hyunjin’s face faltered completely at your words. It was expected, really. The poor boy was not anticipating this news.

“Wh-what?” he asked, a little too loudly, catching the stares of a few others in the coffee shop. You immediately glared at him, and he retracted back into his seat, but still had a befuddled expression on his face.

You sighed a little. “Look,” you started, swirling your latte with a thin, wooden stirrer. “I’m going to be completely honest with you. I just think we’re much better off as friends.”

“Friends?” the boy flinched at the term, and even you had to hide your self-distaste. God, ____, at least try to be a little nicer! “Damn it, we’ve been dating for nearly three months, and you think we’d automatically become friends?!” he leaned in, knitting his eyebrows in growing desperation. “What the hell happened?”

You fought hard to not scratch the back of your neck. And possibly run away from the shop. Taking a long sip, you tried to feign the most sympathetic expression you could muster. “Hyunjin, please…”

“B-but, babe—” he started, and his eyes widened, trying to grab onto your hands which cupped the latte. “I don’t understand, we were so happy!” He huffed a smile, trying to convince you of your oh-so heavenly times spent with him. “Why are you thinking like this?”

You tried not to retract your hand from his — not only because it was hard to console him, but because they were embarrassingly sweaty. “Don’t think I have just done this on a whim. I have thought long about this decision.”

Finally, something out of your mouth which wasn’t a blatant lie. You had been thinking of breaking up with this goon — had the notion in your mind for half the time you dated him.

“____,” he said, and the melancholy you heard in his voice had you silencing your tongue. “What’s happened?” He began to caress your hand with his fingers. “Have I...have I done something wrong?”

Oh no. There it was. The reaction you dreaded.

Well, kind of. But still. Not the reaction you imagined in the perfect situation.

Reluctantly, you put a hand over his fingers, hoping that your face was a painting of sympathy.

“Hyunjin.”

Don’t say it, girl! Don’t you dare!

“It’s...it’s not you.”

You put your hand on your heart.

“It’s me.”

Oh, Jesus.

Your eyes raised to his own, wide and glistening.

Now, you knew Hwang Hyunjin was not the brightest kid on campus. The boy, who once asked you what the purpose of a spork was, may not have possessed the most intelligence, but you were scared that he may be smart enough to figure out that what you just said was complete, utter bullshit.

Face it, ____. You’re done for.

A few tears spilled from his eyes, and a pang of guilt shot through you. “I-I see.”

He did not let go of your hands. “We can still be...friends, right?” he sniffled, blinking at you rather irritatingly. “Like, we can still hang out together?”

You raised a brow, but reigned in a sarcastic reply. The boy would probably not even understand. “Of course,” you replied, a saccharine smile on your face. “But I think it’s best if we had some space from each other, okay?”

That was not the answer he seemed to be looking for, but he nodded, a little sadly. “Okay.” He still refused to take his hand away. “Does that mean I can’t rock up at yours midnight anymore if the junior needs a little taking care of?”

Your brows could not help furrow in absolute exasperation. “Yes, Hyunjin,” you monotoned, unable to believe that you put up with this man for three months. “Now can you let go of my hand?”

Realising his clammy hold on you, he flushed, looking away from your directory gaze. “I...should go, then.”

“No, no,” you insisted, getting up from your seat as you grabbed onto your drink. “I shall leave. I’m the one who dumped this news on you.”

You debated leaving without paying for the latte — you knew the boy was still infatuated enough to cover your expenses. Sadly, shame coursed through your veins, and you cursed yourself for feeling a little sympathy for your now ex. “Here,” you offered, fishing out a little cash from your jacket. “For the drink.”

When you nearly stepped past him, you stopped, looking down at him as he tilted his head upwards. Your hand itched to put upon his shoulder, but you knew better. Hyunjin would only take that as a hopeful sign.

“I’m sorry,” was the last thing you said before you left the coffee shop.

Upon falling into a leisurely step onto the street, you let out a harsh breath, an endless amount of relief washing over you.

You were almost delighted to let Hwang Hyunjin go.

Now, it was not like he was a monster who had caged you into his two-feet-squared, dingy flat. In fact, the boy was, in almost every way, a decent boyfriend, whose stupid personality earned him a few laughs.

Although extremely corny, the problem was not truly all him.

It was partly you as well.

Hearing your phone vibrate, you brought it out from your jeans pocket, already having an inkling on who the sender was, spamming you with messages.

CHRIS THE PISS :

bitch have you done it?

CHRIS THE PISS :

helloooooo??

CHRIS THE PISS :

hoe answer the phone i’m dying!!

CHRIS THE PISS :

or prolly hyunjin at this moment lmaooo

You could not help the eyeroll which escaped from his words, and you decided to ignore him until you arrived at your destination.

Which, evident from the persistent vibrations still, you figured you could not do.

CHRIS THE PISS :

i KNOW ur reading my messages DAMN just tell me!!

CHRIS THE PISS :

unless this is hyunjin and u killed her FUCK

CHRIS THE PISS :

haha dude whats poppin!! best man for ____ by far don't know why she was breaking up w u

YOU :

chan i will kill u :)

CHRIS THE PISS :

hyunjin i promise i didn't mean it when i said u looked like a cheese string w ur new hair

CHRIS THE PISS :

that was ur girl putting words in my mouth

YOU:

omfg chan STFUUU i’m coming

CHRIS THE PISS :

PLS HYUNJIN I SWEAR UR SEXC

Letting the man panic, you turned a left into student residence, buildings lined down the street, providing accommodation for hundreds of people like you in need of a place to sleep, eat, party, and contemplate the inevitability of death under.

Smiling at a few acquaintances, you entered the designated building, finding yourself with dozens of doors of the same, dead colour. Walking along the hallway, you stopped right at the very last one, bringing out your keys.

With a single twist you unlocked the door, but before you wrapped your hand around the knob the door swung open, catching you completely off guard.

“Funny, Hyunjin, how did you manage to transform into a little bitch so quickly?”

You cursed at the man who welcomed you.

“Damn it, Chan,” you said, hand on your chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Sad it didn’t kill you off, then.”

You heard him splutter into laughter at your sad attempts to pinch his shoulder, glaring daggers into his crescent eyes. The bumbling idiot was Bang Chan, the one man you managed to keep for your entire life. That too is purely because none of you could manage a stable, healthy relationship — which was a shame, of course, when your best friend, with his fluffy, raven curls, black-oversized hoodie and sweatpants, was admired by so many. You often wondered how you had not fallen at his feet when he smiled at you, but then he’d open his mouth and all would be understood, as your anger would flare up, and rush to hit him as hard as possible.

He gave you such a smile then, fingers gripping the doorframe. “How is Rapunzel, then? Sent him back to the tower?”

Wrenching his hand off the frame, which nearly had him falling onto the floor, you side-stepped past his stumbling figure, peeling off your jacket. “Rapunzel is never stepping in our lands again.”

After regaining his step, he muttered a cursed endearment your way and sat himself down on the couch, instantly settling his laptop upon his legs. “Oh, God. How badly did you break his heart, ____?”

Smiling, you dumped the jacket on the side table as you entered the living room, settling on the other end of his sofa. Propping your legs upon his, you pondered over the answer, and said, “At least a good seven.”

Chan let out a little whistle. “Oh, he’s definitely causing a shitshow on the groupchat tonight.” A huffed laugh was his answer. “Want Chinese or Indian tonight?”

“Surprise me,” you said as he brought out his phone. He dialled a number, and then you added, “Actually, can we please get Chinese?”

“No, we’re getting Indian.”

You raised a brow. “Didn’t you cry the last time you had their special curry?”

The man stared at you for a minute before sighing, putting the phone to his ear. “I’d like your least spiciest dish please.”

He groaned as you pushed his legs off the couch, laughing at his pathetic tolerance towards spice. As he carried on with his order, you grabbed the TV remote, surfing through the channels.

Even after all these years, you still found it endearing how Chan understood the depth of the numbers you tell him. The system between you two had been created during kindergarten, when, on the last day, you both had received such delicious cookies that words could not express the joy you felt when having the first bite. It was a mere joke at first, rating random classmates despicably low in middle school to even more serious situations, when you moaned to your best friend of your mundane kiss, expecting fireworks and butterflies yet were only met with an over-enthusiastic tongue.

Chan himself used this system — it was the reason you knew of his distaste towards spicy food, and certain girls he had dated in the past. Even now, when the two of you had started college together, working on the same projects and going to the same parties, this concoction had not been shelved in your memories. Although this may be something which others might deem insignificant, the concept had become a pillar of your friendship with this absolute loser.

The food arrived within the hour, and you both continued your box set as the plastic containers were cracked open, the pungent smell of curries and biryanis filling the room. Chan provided the plates and cutlery while you poured him the sufficient amount, and you rebuked his whining as you added the spicier dishes onto his plate.

“I refuse to let you eat only korma, Crispy,” you scolded. “Prick, careful! Don’t spill it on your laptop!”

“Bitch!” he yelped as a bit of the residue nearly stained his sweats, but was saved by his hands. “Just ruin everything I wear, why don’t you? Now I got curry on my fingers!”

You propped your legs over his again, eyes upon the screen once more, and the action occurring. “Just lick it off?”

“How about you do it for me?” the boy then simpered out, and you nearly tossed your entire dish on his head.

“Let’s just focus on Tommy and his cocaine problem,” you dismissed him, but returned his impish smile as you elbowed him, nearly causing his food to stain his hoodie.

The two of you seemed to settle down after a bit and watched the show, commenting on the terrible choices the characters were making, and then boasted of how you and him could easily be the better leader from the protagonist. Soon, you had finished your takeout, and after Chan followed, he got up, hurrying into the kitchen situated behind the doorway in the lounge. He then came back, you delighted to find his hands occupied with two tubs of Ben & Jerrys’.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme!” you sang, snatching one of the tubs from him and pulling open the cover, digging straight in. “I didn’t know you brought ice cream!”

“Thought it’d help with the breakup,” he confessed, settling back into the sofa, shuffling closer to you. “But it doesn’t look like you need it.”

“Oh, I can’t believe Hyunjin broke my heart like this!”

Chan shook his head at your melodrama. “You may fool the looney princess, but you’re not fooling me.”

“You know me too well,” you said, which he agreed to with an absent-minded hum, eating his dessert.

There was a short pause, a comfortable silence reigning upon you both for a little before your best friend broke it, gulping down his ice cream.

“____?”

“No, you’re not having any of mine.”

Chan prodded you lightly with his foot. “No, I don’t mean that. I was just wondering something.”

“Shoot.”

“You’re not...upset, right?” He took a bite of his ice cream. “Like, I know you always complained about him, but breakups can be difficult.”

You looked at him, and saw genuine concern painted on his face — along with a little vanilla stain on the corner of his lips. “You don’t have to pretend to be happy if you’re not, okay?” he continued. “Especially with me.”

Your heart melted slightly. “Of course, Chan, don’t worry. I wouldn’t ever lie to you.”

Turning to the TV screen, you sighed as you thought of your recent relationship. “There were good moments for sure. He was still a sweet guy, you know?” You then stabbed the creamy plains inside the tub. “It was just so...dull.”

The man beside you took in another bite, if a bit slow. “What do you mean?”

Following him, you relished the chocolate goodness, swallowing. “Dates were kind of boring. I carried most of the conversations because he’s too thick to talk about anything.”

Chan let out a soft snort. “I remember you telling me about it. I can certainly believe it.”

“Well, you won’t believe what I’m about to tell you next.” You focused on your ice cream, a sarcastic smile plastered upon your face. “Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin was terrible at sex.”

You did not need to see your best friend to sense his shock. “What?”

A small chuckle escaped you. “First time he fucked me, I think I cried. Not because it was so good, no, but because it was so bad.”

“No way,” Chan said, brows furrowed. “Didn’t you say he had a big dick or something?”

“That’s the downside, bud,” you countered, halfway through your tub. “Because he had a massive cock he thought that was enough for me to enjoy. But it’s not. He just did not know what to do with it!”

The man had been silenced. He took another bite of his ice cream, in disbelief. “So you were...deprived of pleasure?”

“Deprived?” You scoffed. “Chan, I thirsted for a crumb of pleasure. God, can you believe I’ve faked nearly all my orgasms with him?”

This time, your friend glanced at you in horror. Carrying on, you said, “The only real orgasm I had was not even because of him. God, I was thinking about Lee Donghyuck singing between my legs.”

A soft growl entered your ears. “Oh Christ.”

“Bastard was so proud when I came all over him,” you crowed, trying to sweeten your bitterness with the dessert. “If only I told him I undid myself for an idol I’m never going to meet.”

Your friend did not say anything. The episode finished, and when you noticed his further silence, you used it to your advantage, starting a romantic comedy before he could even complain.

Even with the movie on for about twenty minutes, and the romance you thoroughly enjoyed, the man stayed quiet, idly stirring his melted ice cream in the tub. You ignored his rather odd behaviour, assuming he was either thinking of his assignment or had gotten a brain freeze. Either way, it let you watch your movie in peace, swooning outwardly at the man’s teasing to the girl.

One hour in, and you asked if Chan was okay. “Yeah...yeah, I’m good,” was his answer, sending you a second-long smile before going back to his brain freeze. You raised a confused brow, but went back to the chick flick, gasping when the boy went back for his love.

This was it. The fireworks, the passion which exuded from the mere actions of lips enveloping lips, hands holding onto waists or necks or locks and refusing to let go. You craved for your heart to drop down in lust as you let yourself fall, be wrapped up in another as you undid yourself. Where was this? Where was this for you?

Did you not deserve your desires to be fulfilled? Did you not deserve to have your entire world turned upside down in pure exhilaration?

Before you knew it, the credits rolled, and you let out a long, laboured sigh, leaning into the cushions. “Maybe it’s time I find myself a millionaire who’d pay me to have sex with me.”

The man was still looking at the now black screen. “Do you mean a prostitute?”

“Well, yes, but—” you groaned. “You know what? Maybe I’m meant to stay forever displeased.”

It was after a long time your best friend spoke. “Or…” he cleared his throat. “You find yourself someone who would pleasure you.”

You turned to him. “Wowie, thank you for a perfect solution! I really wouldn’t know what I’d do without you.”

Then, you saw his eyes darken. “____.” He propped the tub upon the coffee table. “Why search for other alternatives when you have options right here?”

Confusion marred your mind, not just from his words, but his entire change of character. “Chan, what are you on about?”

“____,” he said, and his hand inched closer to yours. “ I’m saying you should have a friends with benefits.”

The silence was suddenly heard. You did not realise the sheer weight of this man’s gaze till his very stare gravitated you to him. The lights were dimmed, and all you could see from the laptop’s light was his face — his beautiful face.

What was all this? Why was your best friend looking at you like that? Why were you being affected by his gaze?

“I…” You could barely get the words out. “I never thought about that before.”

Chan had no such problem. “Well, maybe you should. There are many who would gladly be that person for you.”

You gave him a look. “And who would they be?”

A slight cock of his head. “____, who is your best friend, in the same class as you, share the same interests and would help you out in any way whatsoever?”

The question rather befuddled you. Why couldn’t the man just say the answer already? You thought of the few viable options, tossing, turning the names.

Then it occurred to you. Your friend’s face sparked a little in what could only have been hope.

“I know!” you exclaimed, holding onto his arm. “I should ask Jisung!”

The little sliver of hope in his eyes morphed into annoyance. “What the fuck?”

Raising your brow, you asked, “Is that not the right answer?” You listed out the evidence. “He’s basically my best friend, is in music with us, we like similar things and would be willing to help me in any situation. I think.”

When you were done, you found yourself more confused when Chan closed his eyes, shaking his head. “What?” you demanded.

“Oh my God.”

His fingers caressed yours, and you gasped to find your skin prickling at the touch. You raised your eyes to his, and found yourself lost for words.

“You dumb bitch, I should be your friends-with-benefits.”

Your mouth dropped.

Perhaps you would have said something, but then his thumb began stroking your skin, and you figured it was better to relish that instead. Thus, you looked at him, gobsmacked, not entirely sure what to say to his declaration.

It seemed Chan was a little nervous too. “Look, I can tell you��re surprised…” he paused, a little lost for words as well. “Fuck, I guess I shouldn’t have suggested so early into the breakup, but you just…”

He pinned you with his gaze. “I couldn’t have my best friend miss out on the pleasure she deserves. And if that means giving you the pleasure myself, then I will do it.”

Bang Chan. Not just the best friend you’ve ever had, but the man who proposed benefits to this certain friendship.

“Well,” you got out, after what seemed like eternity. “Well damn.”

“We don’t have to do anything right now. Or even anytime soon.” He let go off your hands, and you did not know why the touch was missed so greatly. “Just...think about it for me, will you?”

You didn’t really have it in you to refuse. “Of course,” you said, feeling the need to touch something. Your eyes fell upon the remote, and figured you should distract yourself by watching the next episode of the series you previously watched.

You needed a clear distraction, or else Chan would not need to wait long for his answer.

The episode began, and you watched, clamping your lips together as you felt the man shuffle closer to you, one hand sprawled on the top of the couch with his other hand idly surfing on his laptop. You rooted your eyes to the screen, finding yourself engulfed in 1920s England, trying to forget that your best friend left no space between you two.

Managing to somehow distract yourself from the lack of distance, you even began to relax, swooning softly of the gangster’s mannerisms towards his love interests, their intimate dancing in her bedroom. It was touching, and you even let yourself lean into your friend, who, too, glanced every now and then, a little smile upon his face.

Everything was fine and dandy until the characters started to kiss.

Now, there was nothing wrong with kissing. You were a hopeless romantic, and adored to see the actions of love on screen, the final breaking of barriers between two characters.

The problem was, the kissing did not seem to end there. The bigger problem was that this lust on screen made you all the more aware of your best friend beside you.

You froze, watching with no small amount of confused shock as the characters increased their desires, unbuttoning their clothes, discarding them as their lips moved against each other’s. Your eyes widened at the nudity, once never a bother but suddenly extremely embarrassing, as they collided, bare chest to bare chest.

The matters did not help at all when you sensed the increased beating of Chan’s heart, almost as loud as the instruments harmonising in the background. His searching on his laptop had ceased, as frozen as you were as his eyes refused to look away to the man and woman making love.

It was too much. You had seen much worse scenes in your life before, but never had one made you so hot and bothered. Of course you knew why, though. Of course you knew, when the man you laid your head upon was breathing harder than you do when you walk up a flight of stairs.

You did not waste a minute longer as you pointed the remote to the TV, and switched the screen off. Completely black, void of further lust radiating through the glass.

A shuddered breath escaped Chan. “Well...double damn.”

You did not answer back. Only distanced yourself on the sofa, his fingers on the couch brushing against the back of your head. His touch may have been the last thing you needed then.

But that was not true. Seeing that sex scene, all glorified and affectionate, had you craving his touch. Your eyes could not bear to meet him, but his presence was suffocating enough. God, if you did not leave that couch now, you would dare to do something quite unimaginable.

Chan did not seem to move either. Your presence, too, had him nearly choking out a pained sob. Anymore time spent, and he would have another problem erecting soon.

At last, when a few minutes seemed like hours, you felt your friend stir. You were surprised to be devastated at the prospect of him leaving.

You were further shocked when, as Chan mustered all the strength in himself to get off the couch, he was stopped by your hand encircling his wrist.

Whirling his head at your direction, his eyes widened. He was met with your own aghast ones, as your hand tugged him back to the couch.

You did not let go of his wrist as you whispered the words you never thought would have left your mouth that night.

“Let’s do it, Chan.”

His hand went limp in your hold.

For a second you thought he died under your grasp, but the way he parted his mouth went against your judgement. Perhaps you had sent his living soul flying out of his body, but you could not blame him — you did not feel at all like yourself just then.

“I wanna do it,” you murmured, refusing to let go.

Chan’s eyes darted to the tight hold upon his wrist, and then to you once more. He opened his mouth, closing it straight after as he glanced away.

With a heavy sigh, he looked to you once more, an abundance of emotions swirling in his usually mischievous, soft eyes.

“Are you sure, ____?” He leaned a little closer, causing your heart to malfunction for a second. “You don’t have to think about it now—”

“Well, it’s all I can think about,” you cut him off, eyes never leaving him, despite the reddening of your cheeks. “And I want to do it.

“Like I said, Chan.” You shuffled a little closer, and your knees brushed against his. “I am deprived of pleasure.”

The man blinked once, twice, taking your declaration all in. He had to tell himself that this was not a dream, but a very much a fortunate reality, and that you were asking him of something he had been wanting to give you for a very long time.

There it was. Something he wasn’t quite ready to admit. You wanting your desires met by him was so much more than enough.

Dreaming still, he slithered one hand around your waist, almost like second nature as the other found refuge upon your face. His fingers were tender, softly caressing your cheeks as his eyes beheld you in a way he had never before..

This change of sight had you unable to look away from him.

“If you feel uncomfortable with all this…” he swept away a stray curl. “I will stop. That’ll be the end of it.”

You nodded, finding solace within his eyes. “I know.”

But there was no discomfort. Rather an impatient welcome, a growing urge for your needs met. Promises fulfilled.

When you sensed him lean closer, so shy and yet so determined, hands still holding you, those vows were sure to be carried out.

You found out in the best way possible — the second when Chan brushed his lips against yours.

His touch had you flying out your skin; well, not really, but it sure felt as such, when his mouth moulded with yours, a confirmation that he was strangely perfect for your own two lips, that he was meant to embed himself upon your mouth.

You closed your eyes, heart climbing up your chest as your hands skimmed around his neck. Chan began his movements, and you were so unaccustomed to the actions that you could not help but be led by his kiss. The man had a way of making you listen to his every order, vocalised or not.

The kiss was so...unreal. It was all that rang in your mind, over and over as the man took his time; he carried out a sensual rhythm upon your lips, not only to avoid overwhelming you, but to fully take in his situation — that he was kissing you, and no other girl who he had never dreamed of.

He had all the time in the world for this.

The hand upon your waist gripped onto you a little harder, nails skirting around the hem of your shirt. His tongue teased you now, running along for entrance, to delve inside and drink in your every essence. Your mouth practically begged the man to prowl inside, opening up to him completely, a signal of full trust.

You wanted this as much as he did.

His elated rush was expressed through his tongue, when it slithered inside your mouth. Butterflies erupted in your body at the way he swirled it along with yours, almost playing with your tongue as if you both did. Of course, this is slightly different, because your gimmicks with Chan never had you salivating at the mouth. Nor feeling like you’re about to leak into your clothes from his touches.

Which really was the situation you ended up in; Chan, his hand now skimming under your shirt, revelling the skin of your abdomen, warming beneath his touch. The hand, once upon your face, had latched upon your locks, while you ran your fingers through his own velvety hair, nearly undoing yourself over the soft feel.

Just when you thought he was going in for more, he broke away, hands still upon you — your breathing was ragged, the man in front of you panting slightly as well. His eyes, with no small amount of surprise, seemed a little feverish, whether that be from a random cold he contracted during the minutes he kissed you, or…

Or, as you found yourself biting your lip, he took an intoxicated toll over you, and how exquisite it was to drive his tongue in your mouth.

“Better than Rapunzel?” He whispered, so close his breath fanned your lips, spit-slick thanks to him.

You made sure he was aware of your fingers threading in his locks, eliciting a low murmur. “Rapunzel better not leave the tower again.”

Chuckling, he wasted no time before he was upon you again, an invisible leash on him threatening to snap. He drove the shirt higher, skirting up your sides until he broke away from you for a mere second before peeling the shirt off of you and tossing it beside him.

Heaving, the sight of you in a bra was making the leash all the more tight, hands never leaving your sides as he latched onto your neck. Leaving open-mouthed kisses, down and down until his lips trailed past your collarbone, you let the moans leave your mouth, heightened and quick and unexpected. Suddenly he descended on you, kneeeling on the floor with hands following suit.

Pleasure. You were oozing with pleasure as you hurried for the hems of his black hoodie, needing to have it off and run your hands on the expanse of his chest. Chan, a little preoccupied, did not realise your demands until you whined out your request.

“Chan—!” you gasped out as his lips left your belly, fingers upon the buttons of your trousers. “Hoodie, I need it off!”

The man only continued with his task, taking the zip down. “Up,” he rushed out, gesturing with his hand.

Dazed, you replied with a confused murmur, only understanding the need to take his stupid hoodie off.

He looked up from his endeavours, and the sight of him hovering between your legs nearly undid you. “I mean your hips, baby, put them up.” He grabbed onto the sides of your jeans. “I wanna take this off.”

Gulping, you raised your hips, giving Chan ease to pull your jeans, all the way down until your legs were bare, save for the soiled underwear which he instantly landed his eyes on.

His mouth slipped out an uneasy fuck, which was just the right way to have you leaking even further. “Chan, come on,” you hurried, seething at the throbbing.

His hands pushed you back on the couch, travelling down until they caressed the back of your knees. Pulling you closer from there, he leaned in until he was a few inches away from your moistened cunt, hurting more the longer he made you wait.

It wasn’t his fault, really. He still felt as if he’s living a dream he did not deserve.

Fingers drumming against the back of your knees, the man blew a little upon your folds, and you let out a strained hiss at the soft breeze. This hypersensitivity was going to be your undoing, but even the smallest of actions brought you such thrill.

“I’m about to spoil you good, ____,” he whispered, and before you could reply, he descended.

The first kitty lick along the surface had you in shock.

Tendrils of pleasure gushed inside you, lurking all over your body as Chan swiped his tongue along the outside of your cunt, teasing, shying away, awaiting your reaction. You answered him with an indecipherable noise, a sound which had never escaped you before.

Maybe because no one had ever played with your cunt like this.

You truly had wasted your time with Hyunjin — this man, tasting your arousal, let out a satisfied hum, and when he dug deeper with his tongue, spreading your legs further, the moans you let escape were, for the first time, absolutely real. No acting, no bullshit.

Just like your best friend promised.

“Chan—!” You stuttered out, when he began circling your clit. “God, just like that!” You encouraged further, hips shaking at the way he made a mess of you.

In response his hands left your legs, pressing them upon your hips. To your horror he paused his actions, peering up from your legs.

The slick shining upon his lips could well have made you cum on his face right then and there. “I need you to stay still, baby,” he said, his hands on your hips keeping you in place, as his eyes did the same. “So I can do this properly.

“I don’t want you getting half-assed pleasure, okay?”

His soft demands, his calm explanations brought you in a further state of frenzy. You could not nod faster, chuckling emitting from him as his hands travelled down once more.

“Good girl.”

And his mouth was upon your cunt again, this time the leash finally snapping as his tongue hardened against the seams. Your moans could have been heard in the hallways, but you didn’t particularly care when Chan, in the midst of his ravenous lapping, introduced the prospect of his fingers, caressing your dripping folds, swiping them over around the edges.

You didn’t know what to do — your hands scrambled to fist the fabric of the couch, laying back against the pillows. The hold grew tighter when your best friend slid his middle finger inside of you.

The journey may have been slow, but that was what made it all the more delightful. Feeling it go deeper and deeper had a particularly loud groan flying out of you, but the rhythm he adopted, pulling it out, but then diving it back again without leaving your cunt, had you delirious.

A once foreign, unimaginable feeling you never thought you’d experience, was back inside — the heavy sensation deep within your gut, like a dull ache which grew more known the harder Chan worked between your legs. The feeling you had only ever experienced when you imagined Donghyuck instead of your ex-boyfriend in this similar situation.

Fuck, there it is, you thought. The feeling of your incoming orgasm.

And it was not going to go if this man worked harder than the devil tonight.

“Chan—fuck—” you got cut off when he increased the speed of his finger inside of you. “I-I’m close.”

Never ceasing his finger, he looked up at you, hooded eyes welcoming you despite the tenderness on his face. “You’re doing so good, ____. So fucking good for me,” he cooed, melting your heart despite the situation.

This time, he accompanied his fingering with a second digit, stretching out your walls and working harmoniously together in making you submit to him. Already you felt as if he’d filled you up, and the actions of his digits practically scissoring inside of you had every muscle in your body readying for release.

He dove back in, merciless to your clit, and all this work, everything at once, was so much that when you cried out, your release had to follow through. You couldn’t control yourself as you let your cum escape, staining the couch and the floor — most importantly, how most of it landed in Chan’s mouth.

Breathing unevenly, and louder than you ever thought possible, you closed your eyes, slumping further into the couch. You sensed an emptiness inside you, and figured Chan had taken out his fingers. Opening your eyes, you saw him close your legs together, propping his head upon your lap, hands supporting his chin. He looked up at you, licking his lips free of your residue.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

The man smiled at you. “Satisfied?” he asked, fingers caressing your skin.

Oh, of course you were. Damn it, you were more than satisfied — you were positively elated. If he had managed to make you cum with his fingers and tongue alone, imagine what he could have done with his dick.

You blinked.

Imagine what he could have done with his dick.

“____?”

Perking up, you looked to the man kneeling before you still, anticipation brimming in his stature. “Please tell me you didn’t fake it.”

Embarrassment engulfed your body at the idea. “Chan, if you really think I faked all of that then I deserve an Oscar.”

Pride washed over his features. “Good.”

You then watched him slowly get up, climbing over you, hands skirting up your figure till he captured your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. You had enough strength to kiss him back, but failed to exceed him when he began nibbling upon the swell of your lip, making you revert to stage one of your growing need all over again.

Breaking away, you glanced up at him, holding onto his hoodie. “I want...more.”

The man stilled his actions, hands going limp upon your skin. You had about three seconds of panicking as you tugged on his clothes, whispering, “Wait, Chan, it’s okay if—”

But suddenly, his hands left your face, and the panic increased with you being lifted into the air, his hold under your knees and back as he brought you close to his chest.

His eyes upon you were a hazard to your well-being. “God, ____, you could really ruin me.”

Your flustered nature was interrupted by Chan rushing to his bedroom, kicking the door open with his feet and pressing quick kisses upon your mouth, your cheeks, all over your face as you giggled out in reaction, arms locked around him.

His room was the same as his attire, black on black on even more black, save for a few gold corners and grey instruments settled in the far end of the space. His bed, however, was vast and comfortable, a place you have slept in many a time when late night recording sessions turned into sleepovers.

Gently, he laid you down on his bed, feeling the cool sting of the night air on your cunt, making you shiver. Your bra was useless in keeping you warm, but when Chan began to take off his hoodie, shirt dragging out along with it, you suddenly began to feel a lot hotter.

Discarding the clothes, you were rewarded with the image of shirtless Chan, slightly disheveled due to his endeavours between your legs. His smile revealed a hint of arrogance as he acknowledged your blatant staring, slowly taking off his sweatpants.

“Careful, baby, or you’ll cum right there,” he mused, noticing the way your legs shivered in ecstasy. He dumped his clothes along with the others, catching sight of his Calvins barely containing his erection.

You felt the mattress press down as he prowled to you upon the bed, the more chaos erupting in your gut the further he came closer. You could barely contain yourself when he hovered over you, lips mere inches from yours. A powerful force within you halted your very breath — you knew, though, that at this particular moment, your entire soul rested in the hands of this man, looking at you through long lashes.

He enveloped your lips, grinding his clothed erection against your cunt, drinking in your whines, your silent pleas of replacing it with the real deal. He smirked against your mouth, opening the seams as his one hand grabbed onto yours, leading it to the waistband of your boxers.

Your fingers fumbled to take peel down the fabric, Chan parting from your lips to take it off entirely. His cock sprang free, and you let out a god-awful, shrill-like noise at the way it stood, red and angry and so very fucking big.

“Fuck me,” you slipped out in a breath, earning a chuckle from him.

“I very much plan to,” he had the nerve to reply, you wanting very much to slap his shit-eating grin off of him. Or perhaps kiss it till your breath was lost.

Embarrassed, you tried to look away, but his fingers gripped your chin, leading your eyes to his. Other hand holding onto your hip, he gently positioned himself between your legs, precum already staining your folds. Breathing stunted, your stare reflected subservience, a request to bury his dick inside you already.

He read your every plea.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he let out a shuddered breath before beginning the final descent.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Chan slid his cock inside — your mouth parted from the transition, at the tightening sensation as he kept going, burying those inches until your eyes were as wide as saucers, unable to look away from him. You dared not move, fear of snapping more a reality in your head than some far-fetched delusion.

Dragging his stare from your slit to your face, he caressed your cheek, offering you a small smile.

“Don’t be quiet, okay?” he asked, hand on your hip like iron.

Nodding, it was all the signal he needed.

Just as gradually, he began to slide out, and, with his words in mind, you let yourself be shameless. The rhythm of his hips, the pain-stakingly tempered movement, made you whine profusely, and when the man slithered inside once more, moaning lewdly was your only reaction. It was all your brain could think of, when his cock was the sole deity which mattered in this moment.

His pace began to fasten, though, grunting erratically as his grip on you tightened. Your cunt was taking a toll, your second orgasm of the night a great possibility as you felt it inside you, as tangible as the dick being pushed and pulled out into you.

“F-faster!” you wailed out, and God bless Chan, for he obliged you completely, increasing his rhythm, practically abusing your slit with the way he fucked into you. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes, and you let them fall, for there was no hiding your emotions with this man.

Your best friend could see right through you anyway.

Chan’s strength seemed unhuman as he thrusted his cock into you faster and faster, and you knew if he did not stop then you would cum all over for the second time. The very image had you on the edge of your sanity.

When his cock hit your g-spot you really believed yourself hitting seventh heaven of delight. White spots blurred your vision, tears now your beloved companion as they trailed down your cheeks. “I’m c-close, fuck—” you tried to voice, but were cut off when slid out once more, tip never leaving your folds.

His hair stuck to his forehead, beads of sweat peppered on his face as he crushed you with his lips, relishing your whines. His tongue befriended yours, and the swirling of your muscles with each other had brought a new form of high bubbling within you.

You moaned his name onto his lips, hands sliding around his neck, pulling you as close as physically possible. This was it. You could not wait any longer. You wanted your undoing, and you wanted it now, in these sheets, within his arms, within his hypnotic presence.

It was incredibly fortunate that Bang Chan could read you like the back of his hand.

Parting from your mouth, he kissed a sloppy trail all the way to your ear, lips grazing against the lobe.

“Go on, then,” he purred, leaving a small kiss to your skin. “Cum for me.”

His words were all you needed before you let yourself go, crying out as release poured from the tight spaces your cunt offered, and onto the sheets below. You wheezed in a few breaths, tired gasps gripping your body.

Chan, within the second, pulled out, just in time for him to let out a pained growl as he came onto his bedsheets. Some of the fluids sullied your legs, but seemed the perfect time as he collapsed right beside you, breathing as heavily as you were.

You and Chan were the only noise in the room — however, if one could translate emotions into sound, that would be an entirely different matter.

At least for you. You could barely contain your elation.

An emptiness may be present inside of you, but it was now replaced with a full heart. Fuck, you could not believe you had finally been given pleasure, such unadulterated satisfaction that you wondered whether it truly occurred, or was just another fantasy — this time with Chan’s face plastered rather than your infatuation of the month.

Sensing the said-man move, you turned to your side, smiling to see his stare fixated on you. Shifting closer, he curled a stray lock from your face behind your ear. “How’re you feeling?” he asked gently, hand on your face still.

You laid your head against your arm. “I am so pissed I didn’t break up with Hyunjin sooner.”

Laughing, his fingers trailed downward, sketching onto your collarbone. “You…” he paused, biting his lip with what you saw, surprisingly, as apprehension. “You really liked it?”

Your eyes darted to the surroundings, smirk spreading across your lips. “I mean, I am an insanely good actress...”

His shock horror had you spluttering into laughter. When he tried to turn his back to you and sulk, you held onto his arm, keeping him in place. “Oh, stop! You know I’m joking, you big oaf.”

Pouting, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “You better be,” he muttered, earning further giggles from his truly. The laughter was replaced with your yawning, which Chan instantly picked up on. “Hey, ____, you should sleep.” He began stroking your hair. “You’re really tired.”

You tried to object, but your intended groans become more deep yawns, proving his point. He passed his fingers over your eyelids, fluttering them close. “I’m not hearing anything else!”

Stinging out your tongue in what you hoped was at his direction, you grudgingly obliged. “Fine.”

You felt him sigh upon your face. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, Hyuck.”

“Nevermind, I hope you have a terrible sleep.”

With your last round of exhausted laughter, you let yourself fall into oblivion, safe in your best friend’s arms.

YOU WOKE UP WITH CHAN ALREADY GONE.

It was not such a huge disappointment. The man had warned you before that he had to leave early to meet up with his supervisor. In all honesty, maybe it was good he was not there, next to you in his sheets.

Your hands gripped those very sheets, raising them right under your chin as you looked up to the ceiling, watching the dried swirls of black paint overlapping each other.

“Oh my God.”

Indeed. Here you were, in your best friend’s bed, basking in his scent, in his world. Of course, you always seemed to smell of him, considering you both never seemed to let go of each other, but last night was different.

Obviously, because Bang Chan had never rocked your shit before.

Your legs began to tingle at the thought. Even the mere memory had you feeling a mysterious sensation all over your body, reminders of the places Chan had looked, touched, tasted. God, you did not think, did not let yourself think further or you’d be calling that man this second.

You knew you had to get up at some point — you had some recording to do today, and more assignments to hand in. You had tasks, obligations to take care of. Unfortunately, the warmth of your best friend’s bed was much too enticing for you to submit to the requests of reality, and so you let yourself lay there for moments longer, in hope you can recreate the scene in your head once more.

There was no lie about this. Bang Chan knew how to fuck you into another dimension.

Just when you were about to dream into last night, your phone vibrated harshly against the bedside table. Curious, you stretched out your hand, grabbing the object and checking who so rudely disturbed your shameless manifesting.

CHRIS THE PISS:

just stopped by the medical room,,, want me to get a wheelchair?

CHRIS THE PISS:

cause im sure asf u can’t walk rn

You rolled your eyes until it hurt. Stupid prick.

YOU:

i haven’t gotten out of bed actually

CHRIS THE PISS:

oh damn

CHRIS THE PISS:

i PARALYSED u??

CHRIS THE PISS:

why am i so powerful

“This asshole,” you muttered.

YOU:

STFUU COCKY MF

CHRIS THE PISS:

It’s ok you’ll cute in a wheelchair

YOU:

?!?!?!?!!?!

CHRIS THE PISS:

but tell me

CHRIS THE PISS:

how good was it

This had you pausing.

CHRIS THE PISS:

outta ten

Now here was a rating you couldn’t bring yourself to confess.

All you wanted to do was give him a solid ten — the man finally offered you a better view of sex and how it can be appreciated, and the way he guided you through it was more than just adequate.

But the thing was, you and Chan hadn’t ever given each other 10/10s.

A perfect score was a rarity in your dynamic; possibly a rating never revealed before because you and Chan had promised each other never to exaggerate on this system. The only time you had ever used the solid ten was when he made you his first ever song at the tender age of nine. At the time, it was a terrible tune, with beats all over the damn place with no form of rhythm, but because he made it especially for you, you voiced your true opinion and rated him the perfect score.

Again, the situation here was different.

So, instead of the truth, you resorted to irritation.

YOU:

2/10 :)

You waited for his text.

However, you did not receive it.

Only the shrill ringtone of your phone, snapping you further into consciousness.

Groaning, you swiped right onto the screen, pressing the speaker button.

“Now I know you’re lying!”

Laughing, you propped the phone beside you on the bed, upon the place where Chan would have been. “You got a big ego there, hun.”

“That may be true, but my cock is bigger, so I still win.”

You were glad he was not here — the man would have sensed your embarrassment in an instant.

It was worse because he was not lying. “Now tell me, Pinocchio,” he continued, voice interrupting as the noise of the students around him came through the receiver. “Out of ten.”

“I already messaged it to you, buddy,” you said impassively, or at least you tried. “A solid two would suffice.”

God, you could almost feel your nose growing.

Perhaps he felt it too, for he answered, with no small amount of pride, “I’m gonna pretend I fucked you so good you forgot how to think properly.”

You could not help gulping, raising the sheets over you. It wasn’t exactly hard on boning, but even so...you really thought for a second you’d lose all feeling in your legs last night.

“Shut up, Chan.”

“Shut up, Chan,” he parroted, which had you threatening to hang up. “Don’t think I’ve let you go on this subject.”

“Try me, buddy,” you jeered.

“And for Christ’s sake, stop calling me ‘buddy’,” he demanded. “Or else I’m pulling a Hyunjin.”

“A Hyunjin?”

“Yeah, a Hyunjin.” You heard the sound of horns blaring at the end of his call. “Ruining your sex life.”

That nearly made you freak. “Damn, I won’t say it again, Christopher Bang, musical name Bang Chan, nicknamed Chris the Piss—”

You heard his chuckling through the phone. “All that for my dick. I must have changed your life, ____.”

Heating up from his stupid comments, you grabbed the phone from the table. “I’ll see you in the studios, asshole.”

His smugness ran rich in his voice. “Buh-bye, baby.”

The minute the call ended, you sighed heavily, clutching the phone to your chest.

He did change your life.

Not necessarily your entire life, but certainly a huge aspect of it. A small part of you was horrified at how easily he shifted your daily balance, making you ponder over him more often, with much more intensity than before. Were you a sex maniac? Were you so deprived of being touched that one night of fun had you begging like a woman starved?

“Whatever,” you groaned, swinging your legs to the side of the bed, and upon the carpet. “Fuck Chan.”

Hopefully tonight.

FUCKING AROUND WITH CHAN MIGHT HONESTLY BE THE BEST DECISION YOU HAVE EVER MADE IN A LONG, LONG TIME.

And you weren’t the one to make good decisions. You get up an hour before the afternoons, drink Pepsi Max to compensate for your lack of water drinkage, and worst of all, you would gladly sell your body for Colin Firth, especially if he dressed himself up as Mr. Darcy at his age. Whatever setbacks you possessed, you knew that this, at least, was a step in the right direction.

Bang Chan may have been as big a loser as you were, but the man made you feel like a powerful entity. Hell, in all the state, with the way he made you act.

Never before had you become so daring — libraries, which were once your place of study, became a rendezvous for his slender fingers inside your cunt. The living room had become a breeding ground, and even your shower was stained of your promiscuity. There was no place left where you and Chan hadn’t done something scandalous, and you wondered, with no small amount of excitement, on how this new side of your friendship with him would progress.

These thoughts accompanied you as you walked to your destination. It was not far off as you entered campus, and smiled at the few students who passed by.

Soon, you found yourself in the music department, and walked through the familiar halls, littered with posters of different artists and singers in their peak careers. A few trophies were boasted of behind a glass screen, but the surroundings all became irrelevant when you approached your designated music rooms.

Expecting Chan to be inside, headphones adorned, you did not bother knocking, strolling straight into the room. However, you stopped completely when a giant, hoodie-clothed back did not greet you.

Instead, it was a tinier hoodie-clothed back, faded yellow over the trademark black. Although not your best friend, you instantly recognised the alternative, and smiled.

“Jisung!”

The boy did not seem to hear, for he kept bobbing his head, no doubt trying out beats.

You tiptoed slpwly until you stood right behind him. Then, in a flash, you snapped your hands upon his shoulders.

“Boo!”

A shrill, terrified yell erupted, chair being swivelled suddenly as the back hit against the controls. You took a step back out of shock too, a choked giggle escaping when you beheld the face of Han Probably-shit-his-pants-Jisung.

“Oh my fucking God,” he rasped out, hand on his chest. He then locked eyes with you, and suddenly his quivering mouth melted into a smile of relief. “Ah, ____!”

“The one and only.” You sat down on the neighbouring chair. “Sorry if I made you shit your pants. It was fully attended.”

“Stop,” he insisted, taking off his headphones and scooting a little closer to you. “These are new jeans as well.”

“Not my fault if you’re a pussy,” you chanted, picking up the headphones, settling them upon your ears. “Can I listen?”

“Of course!” Jisung pressed a few keys on his laptop, and the music began.

Your eyes widened in surprise to hear pleasant, almost lo-fi background before his voice flooded in, comforting you with his soft lilt and meaningful lyrics. On instinct your head bobbed along to the rhythm of the beat, smiling at the wordplay and the rising vocals.

“Jisung, this is really good!” you exclaimed. The boy waved off the compliment, but you instantly saw his face reddening. “Oh, stop it, you know that you’re one of the best out here.”

If you thought he couldn’t get more flustered, he proved you incredibly wrong. “Don’t say that,” he shrilled, propping his feet up on the chair and hugging his legs tightly. When he saw the look on your face, though, he smiled, teeth and all. “Thank you, ____. It means a lot coming from you.”

“Oh, I’m no musical genius,” you said, pressing the play button to hear his music. “Just a motherfucker who can appreciate a song of the year when she hears one.”

Jisung nearly passed out from your compliment, but you did not take it much into account as you focused all your attention on the piece. It was an undoubted fact that Han Jisung was an extremely talented dude. You already knew you could never compete with him, but he was certainly up to Chan’s level of musical expertise. With all this talent brimming around you, you made a mental note never to make more gifted friends in the future.

Once the song ended, you took off the headphones, propping them gently upon the table. “I think you’ve inspired me to do some actual work.”

The boy was still smiling as he reached his hand out, planting it upon your own on the table. “Well, I’m honoured to be your inspiration.” His eyes reached yours, and you were engulfed with his warmth. “The feeling is more than mutual.”

You offered him a grin, and were about to say something when the door opened.

Turning, you were welcomed by Chan’s dark figure at the studio entrance, holding two cups of coffee. Despite his black attire, you found yourself admiring a little too brazenly the bare face he never exposed in public, the beanie hiding his curls, and the tick in his jaw, which heightened further when he took in the scene.

The actions were quick — the darting of his eyes as they started on you, then travelled to your hand, engulfed with another’s. He raised them to the man guilty of the touch, and found himself staring at Jisung, beaming not only from you anymore, but at the arrival of his friend.

The joy was not returned.

“Chan!” Jisung greeted, letting go of your hand innocently as he ushered your best friend over.

He nodded in return, gaze back to you as he walked, a little too slowly, to the two of you. He put the two beverages upon the table next to the keyboards. “I didn’t know you were in as well,” he said. After a pause, he added, “I would have gotten another coffee.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” he assured him, even though it did not look like he needed any reassurances.

Catching onto Chan’s attitude, you slid your coffee to the boy beside you. “I don’t want any right now. You take it.”

You took note of the pursed lips, and ignored it as Jisung widened his eyes. “No, no, it’s okay—”

“Ji, I insist,” you pestered him, driving the cup within his grasp. “You look so tired.”

He offered you a lovely smile before taking the beverage. “Thank you.”

Chan, watching this little conversation, had him clamping his lips together, possibly to not say something stupid. It was a little habit of his, thankfully in action. He slid the other cup to you. “You can have mine.”

You looked up at him. “I’m good, buddy.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Share.”

You rolled your own, taking a sip of the coffee, and thanked yourself for not being petty enough to refuse him. “Fine.”

Jisung swivelled his chair so he faced Chan, fingers upon his laptop. “Do you wanna listen to the demo?” He grabbed the headphones, holding it out to him. “I’m nearly done with it.”

“You can send it to me later,” was his curt answer, as he took the cup from you and drank.

You looked at him in exasperation, but the boy nodded in satisfaction, picking his bag off the floor. “That’s chill!” he said, heaving off the chair. “I got all the time, so don’t worry too much about it.”

He then turned to the two of you as he strolled to the door. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you both something.”

“Spit it out, then,” Chan jeered, which had you glaring at him. What the fuck was his problem?

Jisung did not catch on, continuing. “So, later this week, Changbin and I are throwing a party, and I was hoping you both would like to come.”

You perked up at that piece of information. “That’s something I like to hear!” Snatching the coffee cup from your friend, you purposefully took a huge gulp. “Any specific date?”

“I was hoping Friday night.” A small sip of his drink. “We just wanted to have some fun after a difficult week, dissertations and all.” His gaze never faltered from yours. “You in?”

Chan, noticing, settled in the space previously taken, and raised a hand in objection. “Sorry, Ji. ____ and I always do something Friday night. Gotta uphold the tradition.”

You turned to face him, a brow raised. He wasn’t wrong, in all honesty. But why did he mention it now?

Jisung, too, was a little curious. “Oh?” He fixed the strap of his bag. “I won’t get in the way, then.”

He turned, and you made to open your mouth only to have Chan press a finger to your lips. His brows were furrowed, which you matched until he left the finger as the boy looked back once more.

“I’ll see you around, guys!” he exclaimed, eyes sliding to you before opening the door, and leaving the studio.

After a few seconds of silence, you faced your friend, who had the audacity to sigh in relief. “What the fuck was that?”

The man shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes you do!” you finished the last of the coffee, throwing the empty cup in the bin nearby. “Why were you being such a dick to Jisung?”

“No I wasn’t,” he only said. “I was being the perfect gentleman.”

“Stop it, man!” You couldn’t believe his stupidity in the situation. “He was being so lovely, asking for your opinion on his music, inviting us to his party and shit. Why were you being so mean?”

Chan only shook his head, turning away from you as he made to put his headphones on. You, on the other hand, were not going to be satisfied with silence, and grabbed his arm, wrenching him toward you. “Chan?!”

He turned to look at you, and you hitched in a breath — you had never really pondered over your friend’s angered face, nor really drank in his heightened features before. However, in this moment in time, with his eyes darkened, bare face twisted, frizzy morning curls all over the place, you had to stop yourself from the butterflies fluttering downwards. You’re supposed to be mad, not horny.

Your hand upon his arm — his tensed bicep, specifically — seemed almost feeble now. Still, you were glad it was on there, if only to feel his muscle bulge.

Chan studied you and your dazing, and made you jump when he guttered. “What?”

Instantly getting back to the situation, you cursed yourself silently for letting your desires try to take the reins. “I said,” you continued, trying your hardest not to be fazed by his eyes, “Why are you being such a massive prick to Ji?”

He cocked his head slightly, and if he leaned any further his lips would brush against yours. “I’m being a massive prick, ____, because he really fucking likes you.”

You felt hands upon your waist, tugging you off your seat. With a yelp you found yourself upon the man’s lap, hands encircling you fully.

Even though you looked down at him, his stare had you shaking. “And that really fucking pisses me off.”

You couldn’t suppress a shudder, an action which had not gone unnoticed. A smile ghosting his face, he craned his neck upwards, catching your lips and rendering you completely at his mercy. Your fingers went straight in his morning curls, carding through the locks as he captured your bottom lip in his, sucking on it to the point a whine escaped you, helpless and shameful.

He left a trail of heated kisses down your throat, fingers skirting underneath your cardigan, your shirt, and savouring the skin. His mouth landed on a particular part, grazing his teeth against it as he softly nipped at the skin. Your breath quivered at each flushed kiss he branded upon you, but when his free hand began undoing the top buttons of your shirt, you finally called out his name.

“Chan!” you gasped out, shivering at the lovebites stinging your throat. It did not seem like the man would stop, unbuttoning your shirt just so he could glimpse the sliver of your lacy bra, humming with satisfaction. “Chan, w-wait!”

He paused his actions, tilting his head upwards in irritation. “Do you mind?” he asked, pouting too cutely for his words.

“Yes, I do,” you answered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Why are you so mad, buddy?”

A harsh scoff was your reply. “Well, first of all, because you never stop calling me that.”

You pinched the back of his neck, but when he pursed his lips, you leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. “Chan, you’re overreacting. He’s just a motherfucker trying to gain your approval.”

“I think it’s more your approval,” he countered, nuzzling his head against your shoulder. “With the way the asshole can’t keep his name out of your mouth. God! And the way he held your hand? Like you were his one and only?!”

“Jealousy isn’t a cute look on you, hun,” you mused, but in reality, you were lying through your teeth. His jealousy was like fuel to your turned on fire.

“Permission to punch him in the face?”

“You might have to put a hold to that.”

“Fuck.”

Raising his head, his agitation grew in his eyes as you beheld him. “He just...goddammit, he just makes me so angry at times.”

You played with his curls. “How angry?”

He held onto you tighter. “9/10.”

That certainly made you do a double take.

9/10. A rare rating, you noticed with quite some surprise. It did reflect the fury which Jisung unintentionally ignited, but you did not realise how much it truly affected him. The two had always been friends, as far as you were concerned, but you had to admit that Chan never really felt as easy with him as he did with you.

Of course, because you were his closest friend.

“I know,” he said then, snapping you out of your thoughts. “It’s...unreasonable...but I don’t care. I really don’t give a shit.”

Clamping your lips together, you watched him look away, swaying you back and forth upon his lap. Well, you couldn’t have a dear friend sulking away when you knew Jisung meant nothing and less to you.

Suddenly, a very pleasing idea came to mind.

“Chan,” you murmured, fingernails grazing against his neck.

Sensing goosebumps form there, you were met with his undecipherable gaze. “Yeah?”

You brushed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “How about,” you began, trailing down to his nose, “I help…” you carried on, another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Soothe your irritation?”

Although completely compliant to your touches, he grumbled, “The only way you can do that if you consent to me giving Jisung a broken nose.”

“Hmmm…well...” you peppered another kiss, and felt his hands wander lazily once again. “This is a very close second.”

Catching the implications dwelling in your gaze, you could have sworn the man’s breathing halted. His tongue swept along his teeth, and you had a dire wish to replicate that action with your own tongue.

“Come here, then,” he guttered.

The lower octave had you nearly squealing as you pressed your lips fully onto his, giggling when he responded with twice more ardency, the desperation lurking beneath his physique. He pried your mouth open with his tongue, swirling it along with yours as he pressed your body completely against his, refusing to let you go.

On instinct you grinded against him, sensing the outline of his boner beneath you with no small amount of excitement. He groaned into your mouth at the friction, digging his fingers into your skin.

It was a dire shame you had to break away from the kiss, catching his disappointment. “Tease,” you heard him mumble, which had you pecking his lips quickly before sliding your own down his neck, leaving his skin altogether.

Slumping downward, you kneeled before Chan as he spread his legs before you, struggling down his black trousers till he revealed the angry outline of his erection underneath his dark boxers. You noticed, with pride, how the top of the fabric was stained with arousal.

“I think your dick is angrier than you around Jisung right now,” you said, failing to contain your amusement.

Chan’s eyes promised murder. “I’m so glad my cock will shut your stupid mouth up,” he jeered.

Thank God you were kneeling, cause that comment alone would have made you fall.

Shuffling closer, you raised your hand to his boxers, feeling his clothed length between your fingers. The touch had your friend growling much too loud, a reaction you enjoyed thoroughly.

“How about a little less teasing,” he seethed, gripping onto the arms of his chair, “And a little more sucking, baby?”

Baby. You didn’t know why now, of all times, it struck a deep chord within you. His command had you reaching for the waistband, pulling his boxers down until his cock sprang free.

The image had you remembering your Lord and Saviour.

You don’t know why you kept forgetting how insanely big Chan’s cock really was. Its length was inside of you on almost a daily basis, so maybe all this foolery had finally gotten to your head. Observing it now, hard and veiny as it curved against his stomach, the only reaction you could offer was your mouth breaking its seams.

“Staring at it won’t be enough, ____.”

Gulping, you planted one hand upon his leg, the other wrapping around the shaft. Even the slightest contact had the man hissing, making you smirk at his helplessness. Slightly gurgling, you spat on the head, lubing his member with your fingers, and then you began.

A string of groans escaped him as you commenced, a slow rhythm of pumping his cock as your hand moved up and down. The repetition was constant, neverending as Chan’s grip on his chair threatened to snap the plastic, but you dared not slow down. You knew this was not how he gained his satisfaction — he needed a perfect graduality, a refined art-like stroke or else he’d lose his high. Fortunate for him, though, you never let him down.

You increased your pumping, sensing him containing his moans. You could feel him holding back, but that didn’t stop you at all. In fact, that only had you progressing to the next step, an action that would have him screaming your name.

Shifting even closer, you spread his legs further, Chan’s eyes rooted to you as you directed the tip to your mouth. Letting your tongue free, you swept it along the shaft, and sure enough, an obscenely loud moan emitted from his truly. Chuckling, you carried on, trailing all the way up to the head and ending your journey with an ironically chaste kiss. Staring up at him, you smugly observed his lust-struck face, mouth releasing irregular breaths already. You couldn’t wait to have him curse at you.

Eyes back on the task at hand, you grabbed the base of his cock, opening your mouth. Slowly, aggravatingly slow, you sunk down, taking in inch by inch — Chan pushed his hips forward, and you nearly gagged at the impact of his head hitting the back of your throat.

“Shi-shit baby,” he sputtered, watching you in awe at your work. “You better tell me if you don’t want your throat fucked.”

You answered him with your progression, slowly releasing his cock from your lips, tongue licking his slit before descending back on him again. You tried to be slow — you didn’t want to go straight to deepthroating, but the way Chan choked out his curses was sweet encouragement. Holding his dick still, you began bobbing your head and down, shallow at first, testing the waters.

When the man instinctively began bucking his hips, pushing his cock into your mouth further, you opened your jaw wider, taking in the remaining inches. The gag reflex kicked in like a bitch, but you refused to cease your labour as you increased your pace. Chan leaned in a little, caressing your cheeks as he rutted against your mouth.

“God, you’re fucking perfect, baby,” he cooed breathlessly. “So good for taking my cock like that.”

Unable to smile, you answered him with your hands, now playing with his balls, slapping them slightly to make him groan out in pleasure, head laid back against the chair. “I’m close, ____,” he warned, never stopping his own thrusts. You hoped he never would, when his end was so near.

Taking all of him in, you pressed your hands on his legs, urging you to look at him. With one final home run, you hollowed in your cheeks, surrounding his entire cock in your mouth as you imprisoned him with your hooded gaze.

The image of you, a beautiful ruination, was his undoing.

Chan let out a vicious string of curses as he released, ropes of cum spilling inside your mouth. He slumped into the chair, breathing in the entire county’s worth of oxygen as all energy left him. This time, to add to his lust-driven shock, you swallowed his release, thanking your lucky stars that your friend finally listened and ate some fruit. His cum, at last, tasted more than bearable.

After a few silent moments, the man finally raised himself from the dead, sighing as he beheld you kneeling still. “I think I can’t live without you.”

Chuckling, you heaved yourself up, legs unsteady. “That’s just your inner horny speaking,” you said, nearly falling over on your own feet. Quickly, Chan brought you back onto his lap again, creating an iron grip around you.

“Think what you like,” he began, peppering small kisses on your neck. “But your head game is stronger than my will to punch Jisung, that’s for sure.”

You hummed as he plunged his teeth upon a certain spot, pressing your legs together. “It better be.”

Finding your lips, he lazily kissed you, hands skirting higher as you move your mouth against his, never tired from his touches.

“Have we christened the studio yet?” The man asked in between kisses, pushing his chair forward till your back hit the table.

You shook your head no, already sensing his unbearable grin. You could not help returning his enthusiasm.

And as you both continued in your shameless arrangements, there was one thought that lingered in your head.

There was absolutely no way you were going to that party.

OF COURSE YOU WERE GOING TO THAT PARTY.

You looked to the building, the whole ground floor alight with different, ever-changing lights, and a dim pandemonium welcoming your ears. Your phone pinged with messages, but you dutifully ignored them, taking a deep breath as you took a step inside.

Greeted with a half-full hallway, it was not hard to find the party house, greeting awkwardly to a few drunk acquaintances before entering Jisung’s dorm. You were instantly hit by the smell of sweat and alcohol as the noise of popular music made your ears ring in discomfort. An abundance of students were cramped as they danced along to the tunes, screaming and laughing and simply enjoying themselves.

While observing the scene, a small part of you wished your best friend was with you, an arm slung around you as he makes a comment on the specific people dancing rather terribly in the centre. You could already imagine him in his Friday attire, midnight-kissed with gold chains dangling off his belt, rings adorning his fingers and a little makeup to elevate his already exquisite features. Maybe, if you had insisted, he would have let you paint his nails, something which you adored on him.

Fuck, you thought, searching through the crowd for a place to get a drink. Maybe you shouldn’t have come.

You shook your head, though, beginning to squeeze through the partygoers. No. You can’t let Chan win in this.

And so you found your way to the kitchen, cans of beer, vodka and tequila stacked in broken pyramids to drink away. Just as you made to grab the Smirnoff your hand brushed against another’s. You turned to the direction, and beamed to see Jisung holding out the can for you.

“____!” he exclaimed, barely heard from the commotion yet could feel his joy radiating from him. “Don’t you have a thing with Chan on Fridays?”

“Well, that can happen every Friday, Ji, but your party was only today,” you answered him, and he was more than satisfied.

He grabbed the same drink as yours, cracking it open as he looked at you, stare lingering upon your black dress. “I’m really glad you came, love.”

You blinked at the sudden endearment, but before you could say anything Changbin had interrupted the both of you, threatening to bring the roof down with his whining.

“Pleeease Ji, get me away from her!” he begged, holding onto Jisung’s arm and rocking it back and forth. “She keeps tryna drag me into the bedrooms and I can’t do it with her, bro!”

The boy adorned hints of irritancy, but he let himself be led by his friend, glazing at you. “Wait for me,” he requested.

His answer was a little wave, which he returned dutifully as he began to berate his friend for tearing him away from you. Raising your eyebrow, you turned back to the alcohol, finding some soda water and pouring it into the empty cups along with the Smirnoff. You would have drank the vodka straight from the bottle but you decided against drinking your tits off tonight. You didn’t really have a great desire for intoxication.

You cursed at a few passersby as they bumped against you, nearly knocking the drink off your hands. Fixing your dress, you took the first sip, relishing the strong taste. The songs kept changing, the dancing getting wilder, and at this rate you knew someone was going to get handsy soon.

Drinking away, you snapped the cup on the table beside you, waiting for Jisung to come back.

Why did you even come here?

You instantly soured at the thought.

Still, you could not help pondering further.

You should have stayed home. With him.

You groaned out loud.

It was ridiculous how you were unable to have any idea which didn’t centre around that prick. If he did not want to join you that was on him.

Then were you feeling miserable?

Great. You poured yourself some more diluted vodka. Now you’re a full-time simp.

That helped you down the drink some more. At least this time, in fortunate circumstances, you were not a lightweight, and so were still completely aware of your surroundings.

Aware enough to see a more tousled Jisung stagger toward you, giggling like a little child.

You watched him lunge towards the tequila cans and crack one open, downing half the thing in one go. “Careful, Ji, or you’ll fall to your death!” you warned him, laughing as he exhaled with great exaggeration.

He staggered to where you were standing, slumping against the wall and taking another can. “I’m so sorry!” he simpered, much too loudly for your sober ears.

You raised a brow, about to ask him for what but he was already answering your question. “I made you wait so looong!” he dragged, drinking some more. “Look at you! Leaving you all alone.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly, crossing your arms, drink still in hand. “Just say I have zero friends.”

“Hey, don’t say that!” You were taken aback by Jisung grabbing onto your arm, pulling him to you. He looked you dead in the eyes, wide and alive. “You do not have zero friends!” he declared, louder than before. “I’m your friend.”

Your poor ears hurt like a bitch, but you smiled at his words. “Yes, indeed you are,” you said in earnest. “Thank you, Jisung.”

It was then he blinked slowly, parting his lips as his fingers upon your arm began to wander. “But I wish you didn’t think like that.”

His touch did not go unnoticed at all. You looked at him, raising a brow, but that action went unnoticed. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, you’re a smart girl,” he slurred, voice still soft and innocent as his hand travelled to your shoulder. “You know exactly what I mean.”

Freezing up, you felt the pads of his fingers caress your face. When he tilted his head, you finally saw what he had been trying to show you since the start of the year, the emotions he was too drunk to hide any longer.

Lust. Pure lust swirling in his eyes.

It was like a lightbulb had finally switched on in your grape-sized brain.

“Oh my God!”

Instantly, you pressed your hands to Jisung’s chest, pushing him completely off. He nearly fell flat on his ass, but grabbed the table just in time to stagger back to balance. He glanced upwards, and you saw his eyes widen.

“____?” he got out, but you raised a finger, which he was still intelligent enough to figure out to shut up.

“Ji, what the fuck?” You slapped your drink down on the table, making him jump.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, taking another can. “But it’s the truth, damn it, and I’m tired of having to pretend all the time about it!”

Fuck, you suddenly thought, realising that you needed to get out of this crammed residence. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Jisung, look—” you started, but he groaned out loud, waving off your answer.

“No, no, I know what you’re gonna say.” He then did a terrible impression of you, simpering, “Oh, Ji, I can’t go out with you because I’m soooo in love with my best friend in the whole wide world!”

You snapped your head to his direction. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me clearly!” He finished off his nth can. “Okay, maybe it isn’t a Romeo and Juliet shit going on, but I know something is going on between you two!”

A laugh huffed out of you, but the boy was not convinced. “We’re just friends. Good friends, that’s all.”

Your answer was a hysterical bout of laughter, confusing you even further. “Come on, ____. I’m stupid, but not completely braindead.”

He took a step closer to you, careful of your hands still. “I know Chan practically adores you.”

This little statement made your shit freeze. “Stop it,” you murmured.

“Why?” he demanded. “Because I’m saying something the both of you refuse to listen to?”

“It’s none of your business,” you snapped. “Don’t get mad because I don’t wanna go out with you.”

“I’m not mad because of that.” With one last tequila can, he grabbed it, turning on his heel. “I’m mad because the both of you keep lying to yourselves.”

Before you could counter back, the boy stumbled away from you, hollering to the crowd to leave some space on the dance floor for him. You wondered for a second how he’d handle dancing when he could barely walk properly, but then your thoughts drifted back to the more dire subject at hand.

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud this time.

There it was. The question you should have addressed ever since you started this arrangement with Chan.

Were you really just friends?

You knew the question to that yourself. Both you and him had transcended past that point now, and in a horrifying realisation, you didn’t mind it that much. After experiencing his touch, his whispers, you doubt that you could ever see him as a friend again.

But...to be more?

Fuck indeed. You had a lot to think about tonight.

“But first,” you muttered, “To be out of this stupid party.”

Quickly, after taking two Smirnoff cans, you squeezed past the million drunkards, making your way to the exit. When you were out of the residence, you breathed in the cool night air, a rarity in these sweaty dorm rooms.

You had a small hope, as you walked down the lanes, that Chan would be there, right at the entrance as you left, but he was not there. He had a little habit of going wherever you were supposed to be if you were not home at the expected time, worried sick if you had drank or done something more stupid than usual.

But he was not here today. Maybe going to Jisung’s party made him extremely pissed.

There was a reason he rated it 9/10.

Soon, you were at your building, entering inside and finding your door at the very end of the hallway. Fishing out the keys, you slid them into the lock, careful of the cans, hearing the click! of the unlocking.

Your hand rested upon the doorknob. Eyes staring at the lifeless colour of the door, you closed your eyes, letting out a deep breath.

Stop worrying. Chan is your best friend.

You turned the knob.

Your best friend.

Pushed the door open. Stepped inside.

Right?

“Back so soon?”

Your body shivered at the words. Quickly walking inside the living room, you found the back of the sofa greeting you as per usual, with Chan’s head peering on top as he watched the TV. Walking further, you noticed yours and his favourite show playing on the screen.

“Yeah, it was quite boring, but the real question is,” you began, irritation marring your features, “Why are you watching this without me?”

He didn’t even glance back at you, nor pause the TV. “Oh, I don’t know, ____, maybe because it’s Friday night, and it’s our thing to do this every time? Do tell me if I’m wrong!”

“Shut up, Chan,” you seethed, dumping the Smirnoff on the coffee tables in front of him. “This is the one time I missed this, so stop being such a baby.”

“Oh, so you tell me to shut up,” he jeered, snapping the remote on the table, making you jump slightly. “Fine, I’ll shut up. You won’t hear a word from me again.”

You took a glimpse of his face, and caught this cold fury simmering beneath his skin. Oh no. Had you going to Jisung’s party made him this angry? It was beyond nonsensical now. Bang Chan was the most reasonable man you ever befriended.

Taking in the emotions inhabiting on his face, however, proved otherwise.

I know Chan practically adores you.

The memory brought chills all over you again.

Making your way into the kitchen, you figured to make yourself a midnight snack, hearing the crack! of a can opening behind you. Asshole, you refused to voice out loud, but opened the fridge, taking out leftovers and heating it up in the microwave.

“Anything interesting happened, then?” you heard the dry question travel to you.

Scoffing, you turned, taking out your food. “Oh, I thought I wasn’t hearing a word from you again.”

Your best friend’s smile was anything but sweet. “Well, I figured if you weren’t going to tell me things, I had to ask you myself.”

That snatched any faux amusement you might have harboured. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“You know what the fuck that means!” he snapped, getting up from the couch, pausing the screen. “I can’t believe you’re not telling me.”

“How about a little less attitude and a little more truth, you prick,” you rebuked, putting the cartons on the kitchen counter.

“Fine, I’ll tell you the truth that you’re too much of a pussy to say yourself!” He thundered into the kitchen, Smirnoff still in hand.

You backed up against the counter when he caged you with his glare. “Since when did you start going out with Jisung?”

Instantly your brows furrowed. “Who the fuck told you that?”

“Shit, I knew that bastard wanted to get in your pants,” he roared. “And you let him use you!”

“Woah, woah, buddy, slow down there!” You raised your hands in objection. “I’m not dating Jisung!”

“What?” He took a gulp of the vodka, confusion mixing with his fury. “You’re not?”

“Of course not, the fuck?! Who told you this?”

“He—” but then the cogs turned in Chan’s head, and suddenly it made sense to him. “Oh, for Christ’s sake!”

“What happened?” you asked, but he was drinking some more, cursing himself for even believing such nonsense. “Chan?”

“That son of a bitch called me before you came,” he started, swirling his drink in the can. “And I don’t know why he did, but he kept telling me to back off from you.”

You let out a low curse, but your friend was not finished. “I told him to get some sleep, cause clearly he wasn’t right in the head, but then...he said some words which literally shut me up.”

Then, you saw him hitch in an uncertain breath. “____, he bragged that he asked you out and...and you said yes.”

His reaction had you widening your eyes, mouth parting just a little. “And, damn it, I thought that this is why she’s so nice to this little fucker, giving him my coffee, or missing Friday night for his stupid party. Hell, even suggesting him first to be her friends-with-benefits.

“Because maybe she liked Jisung all along.”

You watched in horror as he finished his drink, crumbling the can and throwing it in the bin beside you. A shuddered breath escaped you at the explanation, but you sucked it in once more when you blinked back the sheer intensity of this man’s stare.

“So...yeah.” He ruffled his hair, breaking the stare as he looked away, face flushing with colour. “That’s why I just...yeah.”

A small part of you melted at his words, and his now embarrassment after expressing his desperate worry for you and your potential relationship.

Still, you had some problems that needed solving. “Chan, then why were you so angry at me?!”

You crossed your arms. “You didn’t even wait to hear what I had to say on the matter.”

“I don’t know, okay?!” he exclaimed, propping his hands to his sides. “I heard Jisung saying all that bullshit, and at the time I was so pissed that…”

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d go out with him, you dumbass!”

“Well, I don’t know, he’s just such a nice guy like you keep saying, and all that flowery poetry for him just went straight into my head!”

The situation almost seemed comical now. “Oh my God, did you really think I liked him?!

“Of course” he cried out, slapping his hands on the counter top next to you, unable to let you escape. As if you even wanted to. “Of course I thought that or else I wouldn’t be shitting my pants all night!”

“Then you’re the dumbest fucking prick I’ve ever met!” you screamed, as you grabbed hold of his hoodie, pulling him closer to you. “Because I don’t like him!

“I like you!”

“Well, I like you too, you stupid bitch!”

The confession had you both stopping, preventing the two of you going deaf from your shouting. The whole fight was completely ridiculous, but when you looked at each other, drinking in the words that just left your lips, the realisation finally dawned on you.

I like you too.

Well, shit. There it was.

The one thing you’d been hiding ever since you decided to fool around with him.

Maybe this was the last way you wanted to tell him, shouting out your declaration to prove his suspicions wrong. It was almost like something out of an unfunny American sitcom — this weird, comic deflation, but at least it was out in the open now.

You had finally told him of your feelings.

A pinch of that anger brewing within his features settled a little, hands still fisted on your sides. His eyes darted on every point of your face, as if he’s trying to memorise every inch, every detail etched upon your skin.

Although his blatant awe made you flustered, the aching inside spoke for you. “Are you going to keep staring all night or just kiss me already?”

God, you were such a bitch.

Chan seemed to think so too. “Nevermind, I fucking hate you,” he snarled, capturing your lips with his in an instant. You smiled against his mouth as you kissed him back with the same intensity, the same need which spread like wildfire in your body.

Kissing him should have become a routine with the amount of times you did it, but every locking of your lips with his sent you in a frenzy, lust-driven emotions spiralling out of control. You welcomed his tongue inside your mouth, the strong taste of tequila and desperation enlivening your inner workings, heightening your need for him, him, and only him.

His hands had no restrictions — the pads of his fingers had their very own needs, their own desire to feel every crevice of your body, your every curve and corner till you have no secret stored in your figure which they did not know of. You welcomed their ravaging, embraced their interrogation as they tried to uncover everything you held dear.

Once these hands found a weakness in the form of your dress altogether, they cleverly found an opening, reaching for the end of your dress lined at your thighs. His fingers hitched the hem upwards, skirting it higher until it bunched at your waist, revealing a red, silken thong, embroidered with black thread. You relished in Chan practically salivating all over the image, but his lust slapped him out of his dazing, and hurried to get it off, hands slipping it down your legs until it was discarded on the kitchen floor.

In an instant the man thrust two fingers inside of you, stretching your walls and creating a hypnotic rhythm of removing and inserting them back again. Your moans could bring down the whole residence, but none of you cared when Chan was scissoring you with his digits on the kitchen counter, desire radiating off his stature, and a determination to completely ruin you stark on his face.

“M-more!” You begged, knowing you could take it, and you were rewarded with a third finger, filling you up as you cried out in pleasure. His mouth quietened you, sucking on your lower lip and then taking all of you, had you delirious, but this insanity only progressed as the thrust of his fingers hit lighting speed.

The three digits had quickened your potential release, right on the tip of your cunt if he did not stop. “I’m g-gonna—fuck—!”

You were interrupted as Chan’s lips left yours, trailing down to your neck, collarbone, brushing his teeth between your chest as he fell to his knees. Pulling you forward, on the edge of the countertop, he spread your legs apart, cock twitching at the drenched cunt which awaited him, like a feast displayed for a starved, wild animal.

Looking up at you, he growled, “Cum when I say so, understand?”

Your hurried nods was all he needed as he dove right in, tongue sliding up your slit, lapping up your arousal as if it was an eternal cure. He fastened his stroke as he welcomed in his sight your clit, swiping his tongue along the bud.

You moaned out his name like a cry for help, and he answered at first ring when his fingers still laboured, faster and faster, along with his heavenly tongue licking your clit like ice cream on a summer's day.

“Chan, please—!” You choked out, one hand carding through the man’s hair, driving his face deeper into your cunt. “Please, I need to cum!”

Completely ignoring you, he carried on his ravishing, making you shake your legs to a point your body was beyond your control — you were at his mercy when his head was between your legs, when he prodded at your core as if it was no one else’s but his.

When Chan brushed against your g-spot, it took every muscle in your body not to cum on his face then and there. He was being cruel; this was punishment for going to that party, justice for choosing Jisung’s company over his.

You did not know punishment felt so pain-stakingly amazing.

Calling out his name for the last time, you knew that if the man carried on, you would go against his wishes and free yourself of the burden pushing down on your gut. Gripping onto his hair hard enough to rip right off, Chan spared a single glance at you from above, licking his lips off your mess.

“Cum for me, baby.”

That was the first time you came that night. Shaking as you freed your juices unto him, he gladly accepting the release. It was like you possessed a vessel of your release, the way you kept it inside for so long. He could never refuse though, when he knew he was responsible for driving you down that road of vulnerability.

However, even with all of that, you still wanted more.

And as Chan ascended on his feet, yanking his fingers out of you, he saw it in your eyes. The uncontainable passion. The unadulterated desire.

All for him. All. For him.

Your best friend’s smile was positively wicked.

“I will completely ruin you, ____.”

He was upon you like a beast, no mercy upon your lips as he bruised them with his teeth, your pleas drowned out by his mouth as he lifted you in his arms. His kisses never ceased as he led you in his bedroom, nearly ripping the hinges at the sheer intensity of slamming his door shut.

Throwing you on the bed, your breath whooshed out of you at the free fall, heart running miles as you witnessed Chan take his shirt off, his entire chest glistening with sweat, no doubt from the work he put in mere minutes ago.

Upon you in seconds, his mouth robbed you of any more oxygen, prying it open as he attempted to unzip your dress from the back. Then, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your throat, he tried to loosen the zipping, but the damned thing got stuck in it’s trail, unable to satisfy.

Letting out an angry growl, he damned the dress when, using his hands at the front, he ripped the fabric in half, completely down to the hem.

“My dress!” You gasped out, watching him discard the torn fabric as if it were a minor inconvenience in his path.

You were cut off by his mouth, scorching you down to the bone. “I’ll buy you ten more, baby,” he muttered, skimming his hands down your bare sides.

You had the audacity to roll your eyes at his words. “Why do you keep forgetting you’re a college student?”

It seemed Chan did not take kindly to your comment. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he snapped, resulting in you leaking right onto his sheets.

That kept you wilfully obedient, and rightfully so, when he unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, and settled upon your breasts. Grinding his clothed cock upon your bare slit, he licked your right nipple, making you whimper out at him. His reply was swirling his finger on your left nipple, toying with your body as if it was his plaything. You would have had a right mind to shout at him if he didn’t bring such euphoria along with it.

“Chan,” you whispered, gripping onto the sheets as he continued sucking your breasts. “Chan, I...I need you to fuck me already.”

He paused his assault on your bud, raising a groomed brow. “What do you say to that?” He asked, too calmly in a crazy situation like this.

Of course, he wanted to make you beg. Considering you did not care the least for your self respect, or lack thereof, you completely obliged him, rutting your bare cunt upon his trousers.

“Please, Chan. Please.”

Hearing the little pleases had him kissing you insane as he urged you to take his pants off. You willingly obeyed, tossing the clothing along with his Calvins, and when his cock sprung me you felt the inside of your mouth water at the sight.

The man hovered just above you as he positioned his dick right at the entrance, poking between the folds. “Say the magic word, now, baby,” he commanded quietly, and just for the last time, you had to be the most annoying person in the world.

“Donghyuck!”

The second that damned name slipped out of your mouth, you completely regretted it as instead of making sweet, slow love to you, Bang Chan thrusted his cock so hard into you your whole body flinched with the impact. You couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped, tears settling in your eyes, but alas, your best friend had little sympathy for you.

“Bitch,” he seethed, pulling out, widening your eyes only to have him slam his cock back into you, sending you into another universe entirely.

You envied his strength — you could barely hold onto his arms while his grip on you could probably compete with the Earth’s gravity, stable and safe and inescapable. He imprisoned you in his hold as he pulled out slowly, and then drove back inside, but you wanted to be in this cage, to never leave his midnight eyes that offered something other than rage and lust and humour. You dared not wonder what it might be, but when you closed your eyes, your mind began to ponder, float amongst the stars of ideas and questions which defined your relationship.

As Chan began to fasten his pace, thrusts more erratic, you held onto his dark curls, mouth never refraining every moan and whine which he fucked out of you. There he was, the man who deemed you worthy of being pleasured, despite risking your decade old friendship to see you have the same advantages as any old person who was sexually frustrated.

But this man did not just give you any old advantages — he offered the whole world in his hands to you, knelt before you, fulfilled your every waking desire, held onto you before you could ever slip away into the chaos of your mind. Even now, with you getting lost into the galaxies of his eyes, it was solely his hands which were the anchor to reality, a reality he made better by his offer.

Bang Chan, your very best friend.

When he caught the tenderness radiating on your face, he could not help stealing a little for himself, moulding his lips upon yours as he pistoned you in the bed. It was perhaps this small warmth, along with his perfect rhythm of his cock that had you crying out, barely able to contain your second release.

You broke away from the kiss, and uttered his name like a prayer. “Chan,” you whimpered, not needing to say anything for him to realise that you were so very near.

He pressed his forehead against yours, unable to keep away from you. “Fine then,” he grumbled. “I’ll go easy on you.

“Cum for me, ____.”

The words weren’t fully out when you stained Chan’s bed with your release, pushing through the tiny spaces in your walls. He, too, let out an aggravated cry as he spilled into you, most mingling along with your cum upon the sheets.

A heavy silence fell upon the both of you, both of your breathing harmonising with each other in the cold midnight. Chan toppled on the side of the bed next to you, closing his eyes as he breathed from his mouth, chest rising unevenly.

For minutes none of you said anything to each other, simply basking in each other’s peace. You felt the eyes of your best friend, and locked them with yours.

You decided to break the silence first.

“I’m sorry for saying his name.”

Brilliant. Why would you mention that stupid idol once again?

Chan, surprisingly, burst into laughter. You were caught completely off guard, but seeing his smile lighten up his face had you reflecting his happiness.

“You are,” he rasped out, holding onto his stomach, “The most annoying bitch I’ve ever met.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed, smacking him on his arm, which he responded with threats of pushing you off the bed. “You wouldn’t dare!”

His hands were upon you in seconds, steering you at the edge of the mattress. He cackled at your shocked yelping, and you glared at him as he pushed you away from the edge, and into his arms. “Asshole,” you murmured, burying your face in his chest, which he gladly welcomed as he stroked your hair softly with his fingers.

You both found solace in each other’s embrace for a little while before Chan let go of you. “Hey, I completely forgot, but...I got you something while you were out.”

Your eyes perked up at the idea of a gift, which the man tutted when he noticed. “Greedy whore,” he crowed, getting out of the bed as he strolled to his desk, grabbing a brown paper bag. His marble-cut ass was out for you to see, and you took full advantage, watching it with no small amount of admiration.

“Enjoyed the view?” He asked innocently as he slithered right back into bed again, offering you the paper bag. Sticking your tongue out at him, you took the offer, opening it up to see what was so special inside.

Catching sight of the gift had you bursting into a smile.

“Chan!”

You whipped the goods out of the bag, hand on your mouth.

The man bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling too wide. “You like it?”

“You like it?” You parroted, already digging in. “Where did you even find these?”

“Oh, I visited my mom earlier in the day, and she got the cookies from the old shop,” he explained, taking one of the sweets for himself. “I instantly thought of you as she gave them to me, so I saved them for you.”

You widened your eyes in affection. These sweets may have been normal, bakery cookies, but they held a significance for the both of you: these cookies were what started the whole trend of you and Chan rating certain objects or situations for each other, and whenever you were on an academic break, you made sure to drag your friend back to our hometown, where you could always grab a dozen of your favourite snack.

“Thank you for these, bud,” you said, eating away the first cookie. “I think they’ve become better than an eight now.”

Chan hummed in agreement, finishing off his one too. Licking the crumbs off his fingers, he then turned to you, a question riddled all over his face. “Hey, ____?”

“Yeah?”

When he didn’t say anything, you focused your attention on him, propping your head on your elbow. You saw with slight surprise that his cheeks were reddening by the second.

“Chan?”

“It’s just…” he raised his hand, holding your own. “I’ve been thinking about…all of this.”

You raised your brows, refusing to reveal the dread rising in your gut. “Us?”

“Yeah, us,” he confirmed, stroking his thumb across your fingers. “Now, remember that you’ll always be my best friend, okay, like I don’t want you thinking that this would be the end of us or something—”

“Get to the point, buddy,” you hurried along, earning a glare from him.

Then, he licked his lips in anxiety, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Hand never leaving yours, he pinned you with a stare, making you even more nervous.

He parted his mouth.

“____, would you like to go on a date with me?”

You blinked.

Your delayed reaction had Chan groaning. “Fuck, nevermind, just forget I said anything!” He swiped his hand away from yours, holding his head in shame. “I should have kept my big mouth shut, your bad habits are really growing on me—”

“Yes.”

Your best friend paused.

Turned, ever so slowly, towards you.

“What?”

You could not contain your smile as you took his hand once more. “I’ll go on a date with you, you big oaf.”

For a second you truly believed you had killed off Chan with that declaration. Then, his face exploded into pure joy, and he tackled you in a massive hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Oh my fucking God!” he cursed, “Don’t do that to me again!”

You laughed heartily as you put him at arms’ length. “You were the one doing mental gymnastics!”

Refusing still to let go of you, he played with your hair as he clamped on his lips. “One more thing.”

“Shoot.”

“How good was I?” He looked at you, a vulnerable expression etched onto his beautiful features. “You know...with all of this.”

You stared at him, drinking in his face, his every detail, as if you had all the time in the world. Firstly, you had a right mind to pull his leg one more time, but you feared that if you made fun of him again, he might die of a heart attack.

And you still had many more years of tormenting your best friend.

So you brought him towards you, pressing your lips onto his. He seemed very much obliged to go deeper, but you pulled away just as quickly, offering him a ghost of a smile.

“I think you were a 10/10,” you whispered. “From start till finish.”

Hearing the score, and sensing your sincerity along with it, had him in near tears. He enveloped your mouth with his, backing you against the divan as he expressed his affection within the rhythm of his lips.

When he pulled away, still mere inches from you, he said the words he’d been meaning to say since the day he first laid eyes on you — since the day you two contacted this system, since the day he knew your rating as if he knew his own name.

“Well, baby, you’ve always been a 10/10 for me.”

#stray kids smut #bang chan smut #stray kids oneshot #bang chan imagines #bang chan oneshot #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids dark hours #bang chan dark hours #bang chan hard hours #stray kids hard hours

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quindolyn · 3 years

Text

Better Kisser Part 2 || James Potter and Lily Evans

Request: “istg i need a fic or a blurb or something about being in a poly relationship with lily and james...after reading Better Kisser it’s all i can think about 😭” -anon

and

“hiii !! first of all, i love your writings they’re so amazing honestly !! could you maybe write something with hot lily from “better kisser” ? i’d love it if it was both sensual and fluff :) thanks so much if you ever do something like that! hope you have a nice day/night!“ -anon

and

“QUINN HEAR ME OUT

imagine a part two to better kisser but like smutty bc Lily starts bragging about how she thinks she’s better at other things since she’s the better kisser so they make it a competition over who can like... get the reader off fastest... and then it’s like a competition to see who can get her off the most...

good ideas here right...? N E ways love u bestie <3″ -anon

Word Count: 4,752

Notes:I got three separate requests for this so obviously y’all wanted it and I want to write it. This is smut! I could also do headcanons on Jily x reader and even if you guys don’t request it I’ll probably still write them because it sounds like fun.

Warnings: poly sex, jily x reader, dom!James, dom!Lily, sub!reader, LIly’s a sex god, prove me wrong, they’re both cocky as fuck

Part 1

Masterlist

Lily Evans was the stars, she was mesmerizing and mysterious. Just as they decorated the night sky, accentuating the darkness through their beauty she too brought out the best in those around her without dulling any of her own shine. She was sly smiles and gentle touches, slender pale fingers and long, swishing red hair. She was wondrous and beautiful, complex and absolutely gorgeous. Lily Evans, she was the stars.

James Potter was the sun, he was bright and glowing and impossible to ignore. James was messy black hair, and goofy grins, strong hands and bear hugs. He attracted all of those around him, sucking them into his gravitational field, giving them purpose, warming their souls. A centering person when the rest of their lives were crazy and unpredictable and scary. James Potter, he was the sun.

Where Lily was understated and controlled with her witty remarks and sharp quips James was loud and boisterous, trying to get the biggest reaction out of people. Where Lily was calm James was chaotic. Where she was focused on her end goal he was everywhere, practically bouncing off the walls.

Together they were perfect.

And somehow they were yours.

One thing was for certain, Sirius Black was an upright prick, and you owed him, bigtime. If it weren’t for Sirius Black you would’ve never kissed Lily Evans on a dare. You would’ve never kissed James to satisfy his curiosities. You wouldn’t have spent weeks exchanging tense glances with the two, holding your breath whenever one of them so much as sat down one seat away from you in the Great Hall. Lily would’ve never found you, hiding away in the common room in the wee hours of the morning, pouring over your Transfiguration notes preparing for your test the following morning, or rather later in the day. She never would’ve brushed the hair out of your face with her elegant fingers, nails painted in a berry shade, complimenting her pale skin. She never would’ve told you that you really needed to go to bed, she never would’ve leaned down, meshing her lips with yours, allowing you to answer that question that had plagued you after you kissed Lily.

What did her lips taste like when she wasn’t drunk?

The answer?

Well at that moment, morning breath. Which brought a new question to the forefront of your mind, what did she taste like when she hadn’t just woken up in the middle of the night?

It didn’t take long for you to find out the answer. She’d brought you up to bed, her hand clasped with yours, telling you that she and James wanted to talk to you in the morning resulting in you tossing and turning all night in anticipation of the conversation that would take place the next day.

If it weren’t for Sirius Black you never would’ve had that conversation with James and Lily by the Black Lake. You never would’ve even had the opportunity to accept their offer not to join their relationship but to start a new one, with all three of you. You never would have never learned what Lily tasted like, it was maple syrup and cherries by the way.

If it weren’t for Sirius Black you wouldn’t be sitting in your dorm room with the two of them, skimming over notes for your potions midterm. Well you and Lily were looking over your extensive notes, James on the other hand was sitting behind you, pressing kisses to the side of your neck.

You hissed as he dragged his teeth over a bruised spot on your neck, sending ripples of both pain and pleasure through your body, leaving your fingertips tingling, dying to get themselves on his skin.

“Aw, baby,” He cooed in your ear as he registered your reaction, it’s not as though he could’ve missed it, not with your back pressed flush against his chest, “You a little sensitive there?”

“Come on Jamie,” You giggle trying to hide your neck from him, pressing your ear to your shoulder, “You already know I am.”

James slipped his rough, strong fingers under your jaw, using them to lift your head back up, away from your shoulder, “Don’t hide from me darling, wanna see the marks I left on you.” He returned his lips to the same spot on your neck, lapping slightly at the purple mark with his tongue.

Lily snorted from where she laid on her stomach a couple inches away from you on the same bed that had been transfigured to accommodate all three of you.

“What’s so funny Lils?” James inquired, peeking up from the delicate skin covering your thrumming pulse.

“Nothing,” She sang, twirling her pen in between her fingers, her feet hanging lazily in the air, “I just think it's funny you think you left that mark on her.”

“Well I did,” James said plainly, obviously not amused by Lily’s comment, “Didn’t I poppet?” He asked, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear.

You ducked your head, trying to hide your wide eyes and heated cheeks from the two of them.

“It’s okay (Y/N),” Lily cooed, setting her quill down in her book, marking her page as she closed the book, dropping it onto the floor, “You can tell him it was me who left that, his ego can take it.” She held eye contact with you for a minute, managing to keep a straight face before a smile broke out across her lips, chuckles erupting from the soft cushions of her lips, lathered in a light pink gloss, “Okay, it probably can’t but that shouldn’t stop you baby, Jamie needs to remember that he’s not the only one who can make you feel good.”

“I know I’m not Flower, but I left this one, I can tell, it's one of the darker ones.” And he was right, the entire left side of your neck was littered in bruises and bites, some lighter than others, some darker, but none as dark as the one he was currently tracing with his index finger.

“Nope,” Lily countered, popping her p before pushing herself up off of her shins in order to settle between your open legs, “I distinctly remember, I had her pressed up against the wall before you got back from Quidditch practice, she moaned so pretty for me, prettier than she ever has for you.” She grinned victoriously, turning her gaze back to you, and only you, “It’s like he cares more about that fucking snitch than he does us.”

“That’s bullshit love and you know it,” He murmured in your ear pressing a kiss against the corner of your mouth before dragging his lips, considerably less rough than they were before you started dating him as you’d made it your mission to apply lip balm to his lips every time you saw him, across the side of your face back to your ear, “She’s just trying to turn you against me, she’s so mean isn’t she.”

They loved doing this. Making you choose between the two of them, or trying to anyway. The power struggle between the two of them was hot as fuck.

Before you could so much as open your mouth Lily was responding for you, “I’m not mean doll,” She crooned, not looking at you but rather focusing on the dark haired boy whose nimble fingers were expertly pulling at the hem of your shirt, slowly but steadily rolling up the material until it covered just was much as your bra, “Jamie just needs to remember who the better kisser here is, who makes you feel the best.”

Ignoring her jab James murmured a quick, “Want this off,” In your ear before pulling the shirt over your head and arms, tossing it off the bed and onto the floor paying it no mind as soon as the material slipped from his fingers.

Desperate to prove his worth, to prove his dominance James’ hands ran up and down your thighs, inching your skirt up them, “You’re not the better kisser here Flower, you’re not the best anything. Our baby here loves me the most.”

“She told us James,” Lily sighed, clearly exasperated with your boyfriend, “After she kissed you for the first time she told us. I’m the better kisser, just accept it. She likes me the most don’t you (Y/N/N)?”

“Jamie you make me feel so good,” You began, hoping to soften the blow, “But Lily’s tongue is magic, feels so good in my mouth, in my-my…”

“It’s okay pretty girl,” She simpered, “You can say it, where does my mouth feel good?”

“My pussy,” You forced out, willing yourself not to stutter.

“That’s right my pretty little kitten,” She grinned, tilting your chin up with her index finger so that you were staring into her swirling emerald irises, darkened with obvious desire. “I make your pussy feel so good, better than Jamie.”

“Off.” James demanded, not taking kindly to Lily’s teasing, as he aggressively undid the clasp on your bra, the snide remarks obviously doing no damage to his ego as he pulled the straps from your arms. Taking no care with the expensive, luxurious garment that he himself had bought for you he flung the clothing over his shoulder. Clearly not caring about the money he’d spent on it as the silky material crumpled next to the bed.

“Not just my tongue that makes you feel better isn’t that right my darling?” Lily smirked, beginning to undo the buttons on her button up, “S’my fingers too, stretching you out on my fingers, they can reach so much further in you than his can.”

“Pfft,” James shook his head, one hand settling on your waist, gripping with a frankly frightening strength, no doubt melding dark purple bruises in the shapes of his fingertips on your soft skin.

“Gimme your hand Flower, let me show our baby that you’re wrong” James demanded as the hand not on your waist extended towards the redhead. When she dropped her hand in his he immediately lined them up, palm against palm, fingers against fingers, and much to James’ chagrin his hands were only barely larger than hers. His palm was much larger than hers leaving his fingers slightly shorter than his girlfriend’s.

Feeling benevolent, you grabbed his hand before it dropped down to his thigh in defeat, pressing your hands together as he had pressed his to Lily’s. Yours were considerably smaller than his, and therefore her’s too, your palm nearly half the size as his, your fingers dwarfed by his.

“See Jamie, your hands are bigger than mine.” You comforted, mesmerized by the contrast, “Your fingers make me feel so much better than mine ever could. They don’t even come close.”

“But that’s besides the point right poppet?” Lily questioned, grasping your jaw in her graceful hand, you noticed her ivory dress shirt now hung open, revealing her red lace clad breasts as she once again tilting your head up to look her in the eyes, “Because you’re not allowed to touch yourself, not without my permission.”

“Or mine,” James piped up.

Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend Lily released her grip on your jaw, “Keep your eyes on me darling, be my good girl.”

“You even like my strap more than you like James’ cock, stretches you out so much better than he ever could. Not to mention we don’t have to wait for his little blue pill to work do we?”

Being a muggle born you understood her joke but James was utterly bewildered by your shared laughter.

“You’re not laughing at me are you, you little slut?” James spat, his voice hard and unwavering as he turned your face with a single finger so that your neck was craned to look at him.

“N-no,” You shook your head pathetically, your eyes flashing downwards not being able to meet him.

“Open,” He commanded, tapping your bottom lip and you instantly obeyed, not daring to disobey him. You were rewarded for your obedience by the male spitting into your mouth, the taste of his saliva bleeding along the expanse of your tongue.

“What do we say to Jamsie, pretty girl?” Lily raised an expectant eyebrow.

“Thank you.”

“Good girl,” James muttered, watching as you swallowed the gift he’d given you, “Thought you’d forgotten your manners for a second.”

“Not our good girl,” Lily grinned, somehow now only in her thong, “No, she’s such a good girl for us.”

“Guess she is,” James agreed, leaving a trail of kisses between your shoulder blades.

“Bet I can make our baby cum first James,” Lily boasted, beginning to work on the zipper of your skirt, expertly pulling it off of your legs, “Being the better kisser and all.”

“Don’t get cocky Evans,” James tutted, pulling his shirt over his head as he had yours, “You know I love your strap baby but it just can’t compare to my cock. Mine’s real.”

Clearly unimpressed by his comment Lily pressed her lips to yours, maneuvering you so that you too were on your knees, giving James time to strip down to the same level of clothing as the two of you.

Smiling into the kiss she put but a millimeter of distance between the two of you to catch her breath, “You taste so good kitten.”

“You’re the one who tastes good Lily.”

“So nice to me, don’t deserve you,” She planted a kiss to the hollow of your throat, “Let me make you feel good baby.”

Not complaining, you let Lily lie you back on the bed where James was no longer standing, instead now standing behind Lily, letting his hands settle on her hips.

Once you were lying down she hooked her hands under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed as James helped her off the mattress, helping her plant her feet on the floor. It was things like this, the subtle loving gestures and actions even when they were practically at each other’s throats, that reminded you of how much they loved each other. Of how much they loved you.

“Look at these,” Lily lilted, her finger hooking under the silky material of your panties, “So pretty aren’t they J?”

“Very,” He whispered in her ear only loud enough for you to barely hear him, “Like her in red.”

Lily hummed in affirmation, tapping your hip as a non verbal clue to lift your hips so she could pull them off of you.

She didn’t waste a single second before kneeling down before you so that her face was level as your glistening pussy, already so wet from them just talking about pleasuring you.

After running a single finger through your folds Lily brought her finger to her lips, a hum leaving her lips. “You taste good down here too (Y/N), you have such a pretty pussy.”

“Thank you,” You murmured, attempting not to whine and be their good girl even though you desperately wanted them to touch you.

Without any warning Lily inserted two slender fingers into your cunt causing you to gasp at the sensation. “Lily,” You whimpered, trying not to buck your hips towards her hand, not wanting to let on quite yet how desperate you really were.

“See J?” You could hear the smirk on her lips as she slowly moved her fingers in and out of you, paying you no other mind, instead directing her attention to her boyfriend who still stood behind her, his hands now on her bare shoulders. “She’s really not all that hard to please when you actually know what you’re doing. Had my fingers in her two seconds and she’s already so needy for me.”

“Shut up Lils,” James growled, “Stop talking like I don’t know how to get her off, she’s my baby too, I know exactly how to get her desperate.” In his efforts to prove his point he moved onto the bed, taking one of your nipples into his mouth resulting in a whine to tumble from your lips as he raked his teeth over the sensitive bud.

As his mouth sucked on one his hand moved to the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers before pinching harshly making you gasp in pleasure.

Lily allowed James to have his moment before taking your clit between her lips and sucking. If you gasped for James you absolutely screamed for Lily, thank Merlin for silencing charms because otherwise someone would’ve probably thought you were being tortured. Once she had your sensitive bundle of nerves in her mouth she began humming, making wave after wave of intense ecstasy roll through your core and up your spine, leaving your nerve endings frayed and responsive to every single touch.

You could feel everything, the soft material of the duvet beneath your back, James’ tongue circling your nipple, one hand caressing your heated cheek while the other traced shapes down your stomach. You could feel Lily’s fingers continuing their assault on your cunt, reaching so deep inside of you that they almost touched your g-spot, but not quite, as your clit was set aflame by her mouth.

“You’re not even trying,” Lily snarked, coming up for a breather from in between your legs, “You really think you’re gonna get her to cum from playing with her nipples? I never realized you were that daft Jamsie.”

“If you’d give me a turn,” He began before Lily cut him off.

“Doesn’t look like she wants me to stop does it?” She nodded in your direction where you were writhing on the bed merely from her fingers. “Do you want me to stop, baby?”

“No,” You begged, “Please don’t stop, please! Need your fingers in me, make me feel so good.”

Grinning triumphantly Lily returned her mouth to your pulsing cunt, sucking with a new found vigor that had your back careening off of the mattress, hips bucking towards her mouth.

“Hey,” James scolded, moving his arm to keep your hips firmly on the bed, “Don’t be a desperate slut, take it as she gives you it okay? Be good for us.”

Nodding feebly you willed your hips still but it was nearly impossible as Lily replaced her fingers with her tongue, moving her digits to pinch your clit. Feeling the pleasure bubble up in your stomach you focused on your girlfriend’s ministrations, lapping at your hole with her tongue sent you into a whole new level of pleasure.

“Feels so good! Lily, that feels so good, please don’t stop!”

You could feel her smiling into your opening as she sped up her movements, bringing you closer and closer to the precipice of climax. “Am I allowed to cum?” You asked desperately, the only thing keeping your hips where they were being James’ strong forearm, digging into your hip bones.

“No,” He growled, slapping at your tit bringing you even closer to something you were apparently not allowed to do.

“Come on James,” Lily said replacing her tongue with her fingers as she moved her head to talk to the dark haired boy, “You can’t just tell her she’s not allowed to cum because it’s not you who’s going to make her cum,” Turning her attention back to you she smiled, “Of course you’re allowed to cum baby, don’t listen to him. Are you close, m’love?”

“Uh huh,” You screwed your eyes shut, the pleasure becoming overwhelming and only intensifying when Lily’s mouth returned to your clit, licking broad stripes up and down it.

“Baby look at me,” James’ deep voice commanded you, to which you promptly obeyed, “Wanna see you when you fall apart on her tongue, wanna see you cum baby, you’re so pretty when you cum.”

James’ words accompanied by a particularly harsh nip by Lily to your clit has you tipping over the edge, letting out a high pitched scream as pleasure took over your body, drowning you in the feeling of your lovers still working on your body, obviously not satisfied with leaving you with just one orgasm.

As you came to, your orgasm slowly seeped away from your cloudy mind, reentering you into your dorm room where you heard Lily’s melodic voice, “See James, told you I could make her cum first.”

“Didn’t even get a chance,” He grumbled from his place next you, brushing the hairs off of your forehead. “Wanna make you cum poppet, tell Lily to give me a turn.”

“L-lils,” You managed in your post orgasmic haze, “Want Jamsie, want his- want his…”

“Look at how good of a job I did on our baby,” The redhead boasted, “Just one in and already a blubbery little mess. How do you think she’s gonna be fairing when I have her on her fourth?”

“Only shooting for four Lils?” James raised a defined eyebrow, “I was thinking I could get at least five out of her myself.”

Your eyes widened, slightly in alarm, slightly in anticipation. “F-five?”

“Shh kitten, let us talk,” Lily chaisted lightly. “You really do think highly of yourself don’t you Potter?”

“I’ve done it before,” He countered.

“No, we’ve done it before, both of us. Neither of us have ever gotten her to five by ourselves.”

“Don’t think you can do it Flower?” As he rose from the bed and moved towards Lily you caught sight of his cock, already painfully hard, the tip a bright red and leaking with precum.

“S’not me I’m worried about, don’t wanna overwhelm our baby.”

“I can do it,” You piped in feebly, “I can take it, make me feel good please, wanna feel good.”

“See Lily? If she says she can take it, who are we to question her?”

“You sure poppet?” Lily asked you, her eyes on yours.

“Yes Lily, I’m sure.”

That was all James needed to nudge Lily out from between your legs, spitting on his fingers before rubbing them up against your pussy. “You need me to stretch you out darling?” His voice laced with absolute adoration as he took in your perspiring figure from this new angle.

You shook your head but James wasn’t satisfied, “Wanna hear your voice poppet, come on not too fucked out yet are you?”

“No, don’t need you to stretch me out, want your cock.”

He grinned, lining up the tip of his cock with your quivering entrance, “There’s my good girl.”

As he pushed into you you faintly questioned why you didn’t have him stretch you out beforehand, but once he was fully sheathed inside you all you could think about was the way his dick pressed perfectly against your g-spot.

You moaned out as he began thrusting into you, ruthless in his efforts to make you cum. He moved his hands to hold your hips at an angle where he could better reach deeper inside of you if that was even possible.

“So pretty baby girl,” His grin was wicked as he watched your cunt, reveling in the sight of his cock going in and out of your dripping pussy, “You look so pretty on my cock, you gonna make a mess f’me?”

“She’s not gonna cum yet you himbo,” Lily interjected, “You’ve been inside her what? Five seconds? You need her to cum soon? You close?”

Using Lily’s mocking as motivation he pistoned his hips in and out even more viciously, leaving you a bouncing mess on his cock as he pulled his prick almost all the way out, so that only the leaking red head was still inside of you before fully sheathing himself in you once more.

“Fuck!” You cried out as the tip of his member brushed against your cervix, “Don’t stop!”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” James managed through gritted teeth, throwing your legs over his shoulders so that he wouldn’t have to hold them in his hands any longer, giving him the ability to grip your hips.

So lost in your pleasure you hadn’t registered where Lily was until she sat next to you on the bed, moving her fingers to massage your clit pulling a strangled gasp from your throat.

“L-Lily,” You stuttered out.

“Hey there baby,” She cooed, like she was talking to an actual child, “Jamie making you feel good.”

You nodded, keeping your eyes locked on hers.

“You close, kitten? You gonna cum soon?”

A whimper escaped your lips this time as you nodded once more.

“Let me see if I can help with that then, wanna see you cum again pretty girl.”

You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against the mattress with a soft thud as Lily’s fingers started working magic on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your second orgasm.

A slap against your clit, combined with the deep, hard thrusts of your boyfriend, reaching depths within you you could’ve only imagined before him sent you careening. Your climax washed over you in waves, each stronger than the last making you twitch and spasm on the bed.

You hadn’t even registered that you’d squirted, not until Lily’s delicate hands were rubbing your release up and down your thighs, “Well would you look at that?” James grinned, “I didn’t see you make her squirt Lils.”

“Oh, you don’t get points for this one pretty boy,” Lily grinned, not making eye contact with him but rather focusing on your pulsing cunt.

“What?” James was incredulous, “What do you mean I don’t get credit for that one, she came on my cock.”

“Yes, technically, but she only came when I started on that pretty little clit of hers, so responsive isn’t it, doll?” She asked, punctuating her remark with a gentle slap against your still throbbing cunt and a quick wink that James was too bewildered to pick up on.

Over the next couple of hours they were able to lull a number of orgasms out of you, James making Lily sit in a chair next to the bed so that she couldn’t touch you at all and take credit for any of his hard work.

You’d cum on her tongue and his, both of their fingers, once at the same time, they split the credit for that one but it was worth it, getting to watch your cunt stretch around both of them. You came on James’ cock more times than you could count, and of course on Lily’s strap on because Godric, did she know how to move her hips.

By the end you’d cum a grand total of nine times. You weren’t quite sure how’d you’d done it but you had. And they were both so proud of you.

The final score was Lily, five. James, four. You’d better believe that James was butt hurt about it, not quite willing to accept his obvious defeat, instead of acknowledging it and conceding to his very talented girlfriend, working on getting you cleaned up.

Once James had left the dorm to run you a bath Lily scooped you into her lap, running her hands up and down your thighs but being careful not to touch your sensitive cunt.

“You did such a good job for us baby,” She cooed, pressing kiss after kiss to the back of your head, “Came nine times, can you believe that?”

“Is Jamie going to be mad that you made me cum more?” You asked in your degenerative head space not wanting to upset your boyfriend.

“Of course not,” Lily squeezed your hips, soothing your woes. “Especially not at you, he might mope around a little bit because he is a man,” She pulled a light giggle out of your lips with that one, “But he’ll get over it, it's just gonna push him to work harder next time when he’s making you feel good.”

“Flower,” James called from the bathroom, “Bath’s ready.”

“Come on baby,” Lily said, easing you up onto your feet, “Let’s get you in the bath and all cleaned up for us alright?”

“Okay,” You yawned, understandably exhausted by the events of the night, “Will you take the bath with me?”

“Of course my pretty girl, not gonna let Jamie join us though, s’my reward for being the best.”

You chuckled, nodding your head in agreement, “Sounds good Lils.”

As she settled you into the bathtub Lily ordered James out before he could step into it with you.

“But-”

“Out!”

“Fine! Fine, I’m going!”

Lily was the stars and James was the sun, and fuck did they know how to make you feel good.

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #the marauders #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders poly #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #james potter #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter x reader #lily evans #lily evans fanfic #lily evans fanfiction #lily evans x reader #jily #jily x reader

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

Text

Grunge-Metal Geralt 3

its finally time 😂 after months of staring at an empty google doc i finally had a useful idea - also y’all, go listen to ‘Brighter Side of Grey’ by Five Finger Death Punch bc that’s the song i based this on and its fire and i love it also all of ffdp is one whole witchery mood

Warnging: vague discussion of a car crash where Geralt was severely injured, big emotionaly vulnerability, swearing?, listen to the song then you’ll get the vibes i promise

__________________

“Give them a break, guys,” Eskel sighed as he wrote down his coffee order, “They had a close call. It’s not like they’re always this…”

“Gross. Skel. The word you’re looking for is gross.” Lambert snatched the paper out of his brother’s hand and stalked out of the room with Aiden in tow.

Jaskier scrunched his nose and called from where he was tucked under Geralt’s chin, “Did we drive them away? I can get up if it’s too much.” Even as he spoke, neither he nor Geralt so much as twitched to make good on the offer.

“Doesn’t bother me,” Eskel shrugged.

Lambert and Aiden, mainly Lambert, were getting fed up with Geralt and Jaskier cuddling and cooing and doing general new couple bullshit. Especially since they’d been together three years now. They were recording a collaboration song, meaning everyone had to be there, but it seemed the two vocalists only really cared about each other. Jaskier sat on Geralt’s lap, played with his hair, stole kisses whenever he could… at one point Lambert caught Geralt tracing Jaskier’s lips and forced a coughing fit to get his attention. He probably thought it was subtle, even if no one else did. So to take a break and get some of what he called ‘patience juice’ (coffee), Lambert ran to their favorite coffee shop while Eskel laid down his bass line.

It’s not that they were intentionally this annoying, not all the time at least. After the car crash, especially once Geralt started doing well in his physical therapy, the couple just couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Not to say that was the only relationship Geralt was suddenly extra involved in, it was just the most noticeable.

Finally, after tea and coffee was distributed to everyone it was time for Geralt and Jaskier to, well, do their jobs. Jaskier was fidgeting and humming little scales, doing anything to calm the sudden nerves he felt bubbling up in his stomach.

“You alright?” Geralt purred, nudging him with his elbow as they stood side by side at their respective microphones. When Jaskier only shrugged he continued, “What's wrong?”

“I’m just not used to so many people being here while I…” Jaskier motioned to the mic before glancing around him and taking a deep breath, “it’s a vulnerable song…”

Geralt’s worry lines in his forehead melted as he pulled Jaskier into his arms, “I can kick them out if you want?” he whispered.

Shaking his head and inhaling Geralt’s scent deeply, something Jaskier had learned not to take for granted, he steeled his nerves, “I’ll be fine. Maybe a little weepy, but fine.”

As they were about to start, listening to the instrumental track and humming their parts of the song, Lambert brought Jaskier a bottle of water and set it on his music stand. He gave him a quick side hug and kissed his hair, offering a small “sorry” for all his teasing. Jaskier just giggled in response, the kind that only bubbles over from too much anticipation. He missed it, but Geralt mouthed a small ‘thank you’ to Lambert as he sat back down on the other side of the glass.

Jaskier hooked his pinky around Geralt’s as the guitar intro started, needing that little bit of contact for the first line. When they’d written it it felt perfect. The audience knew exactly what kind of song they were about to hear and Geralt really hadn’t known if he would pull through. It took Jaskier right back to the dimly lit hospital room where he scrawled and scratched out lyrics to keep Geralt distracted from his upcoming surgery. The fear, the desperation, the little pockets of joy when they forgot where they were, the overwhelming love that Jaskier thought he’d never be able to fully give to Geralt all crept back up his throat as he took a breath for that stupid fucking first line.

His voice cracked partway through as he sang, making him fully grip Geralt’s hand, “I’m writing this in case I’m gone tomorrow,” By some miracle, he found his support for the next line, “I’m writing this in case I’ve moved along,”

For a moment he thought he’d gotten over the worst of it. A couple lines passed in relative ease, emotional but not so much it interfered with his craft. If he focused on looking at his microphone and keeping his breath supported he might make it through. Then Geralt joined him for the chorus.

“When the lights go down, Know that I am never far away. When the sun burns out, I’ll be waiting on the brighter side of grey.”

His harmony faltered and he involuntarily heaved a broken gasp in the middle of a line, desperately trying to focus on the mic that was now warped by the tears in his eyes.

Geralt broke off after the first word of his verse, turning to Jaskier and pulling him in again, “You alright, love?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry,” Jaskier groaned in embarrassment as he clung to Geralt’s frame, “I’m being a baby. I wasn’t even the one hurt.”

“No you’re not,” Geralt argued, running his knuckles over Jaskier’s cheeks to wipe away his tears, “Here,” he moved their mics and stands close enough that they were shoulder to shoulder and their fingers could comfortably lace together.

Jaskier squeezed his hand gently and gave him a brave smile, “From the top?”

“From the top.”

This time Jaskier tried watching Geralt as they sang. He made it through the first chorus and got to just watch as Geralt sang his verse. The pang of emotion in his chest was still ever present, but it was manageable. Until he noticed Geralt having trouble.

On “All you get to keep is what you’ve shared,” Geralt squeezed his eyes closed and his grip on Jaskier’s hand tightened. The folk singer prepared, relaxed, readied himself to take a breath in. He was expecting that one to hurt after how much Geralt insisted upon it. How he threatened to get out of that hospital bed and scribble the line himself if Jaskier didn’t put it in. He wasn’t expecting the last line of the stanza to hurt. It had been comforting to the both of them at the time.

Geralt’s lip quivered and his voice was almost pinched as he sang out, “Remember no one ever really dies.”

Even being the one to write the melody, Jaskier missed the first three notes of the chorus, “Fuck. Shit. I’m so sorry.”

“No, that was on me,” Geralt sniffed and chuckled, “I knew you’d lose it if I did.”

“How do you do this?!” Jaskier exclaimed, chugging half the water bottle to keep the breakdown at bay.

Aiden’s voice came over their headphones, “Half our songs are his trauma and another quarter are group trauma. He’s got practice sweetheart.”

They tried a couple more times, even got through the whole song once with only minimal tears and one tasteful cracked note. But it was still a struggle for Jaskier to keep it together, and the more they sang, the more Geralt lost his iron grip on his composure.

“Look at me,” Jaskier instructed, moving Geralt to face him and adjusting their mics so they could sing to each other, “Just like when we wrote it. Except a little less pain.”

The joke earned a snort out of Geralt, exactly what Jaskier was aiming for, “This is supposed to be easier?”

“We can try?”

Jaskier did wonderfully for his verse, singing to Geralt was familiar and safe, even if the subject matter was terrifying. The chorus went well, but as soon as Geralt started to sing, Jaskier couldn’t exhale and it was all he could do not to sniff and ruin the take.

“If you’re hearing this I know you’re probly scared,” had tears falling down his cheeks again and Geralt’s voice cracked as his eyes welled up, “Nope,” he choked, “that’s worse. Much worse.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier gave a watery giggle as he wrapped his arms around Geralt’s middle, “Why did we decide to do this again?”

Geralt pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s hair, sniffling and holding him tight, “I think we’re sadists.”

“Back to back,” Eskel’s voice crackled in their ears, “Try it back to back.”

Leaning back to watch Jaskier’s reaction, Geralt hummed, “Do you want to? Or do you need a break?”

“Fuck it,” Jaskier shrugged, spinning Geralt around and following suit as he moved his equipment.

As they stood waiting for the tech to start the audio, Jaskier felt like he could really inhale for the first time all day. Geralt was there, he could feel his ribs expand against his back and his fingers tapping like a metronome on Jaskier’s palms. This is what they were missing when they wrote the damn song. The comfort of knowing someone is always at your back, that they’ll be there when it’s hard and even when you’re separated.

A warmth spread through Jaskier as the intro started and he felt ready. He still pressed back into Geralt on the harder lines, reminding himself he was still there, but they both made it through two full takes.

On the final one, as the recording of the softly picked guitar faded out, Jaskier couldn’t help but repeat two more lines, “When the lights go down, Know that I am never far away.”

His voice hung in the air for a beat, the sense of finality reverberating through the studio and bringing everything else to a stand still.

Geralt was the first to breathe, “Shit, we made it.”

“We fuckin made it,” Jaskier huffed, emotionally drained but immensely satisfied as he turned to hug Geralt from behind and press his cheek to his spine, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Let’s get a snack?”

“Yeah.”

When the sound tech played the potential mix for the first time, he tacked on an echoing, distant sounding recording of their conversation. Everyone looked at each other and nodded, goosebumps on their arms and that feral sparkle in their eyes that every artist gets when they’ve stumbled on something really exciting. They re-recorded some guitar and drums, but they kept the vocals exactly the same.

For the album art they wrote “I love you” on the tattered hospital stationary that had the lyrics and chords written on it and took a picture. Jaskier had the original framed and hung in their house as a little reminder.

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Note

Hey hey pspspsps if ur down to write some genshin headcanons👀👀 I’d loveee to see some modern au Tohma, Xiao, Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli and Diluc headcanons 👀👀 like college age mayhaps 👀👀

Ohhh ok BUCKLE UP KIDS it’s Genshin modern college au headcanons here we go!

Warnings for alcohol mention and very brief mention of recreational drug use

I feel like I should disclaimer that I’m in a coed frat and went to a small to mid size technical school that’s pretty nerdy so my experience with frats is probably very different and not nearly as gross as the like general US State School experience can be

Tohma

Smooth talker, big man on campus 100%

Probably joined a frat literally the minute he could for the connections and so he could meet even more people

Dude has been throwing ragers since like the first month of his freshman year, you don’t know how he knows so many goddamn people on campus he just does

Seems like a player and hopeless flirt but is actually such a dorky little himbo when you get to know him

If you need any kind of recommendation on anything he’s your guy. From the best spots to nap on campus to the best restaurants within walking distance.

In a relationship he’s super open about his affection and probably is into PDA. It’s not a possessive thing, he’s just so in awe he gets to have you that he wants to enjoy every second of it so why miss out on a hug or kiss from you just because there’s a few people around

Xiao

The first several times you interacted you were probably forced too. Like you were partners on a group assignment so he had to deal with you for a little bit and eventually warmed up

Has a reputation among the rest of your class for how standoffish he is so when he started hanging out with you a few of the other people from your year legit were just like “h o w” and you can’t even give them a proper answer tbh because even you don’t know

Is probably some kind of writing/English/history major

Not only is willing to fight anyone who tries to imply his degree isn’t as useful as a STEM one, but actually has gotten in multiple, some of which almost came down to an actual physical fight before you dragged him away

Definitely pouted about you pulling him away but will yell at you if you call it pouting

In a relationship there is almost no PDA. He might hold your hand and if someone makes him jealous enough he may pull you a little closer and/or put himself between the two of you but for the most part he feels like his relationship is no one else’s goddamn business and he has no interest in giving people a show

Kaeya

The biggest little shit as always

Also joined a frat but is mostly in it for the free booze and he says the brotherhood but you’re pretty sure he just likes the way the other members hang on his every word when he speaks

Doesn’t believe in the cult-like level of loyalty some frats expect and so will 1000% report any of his fellow brothers who try to be shady/scummy/gross. No one would dare get mad at him for it so it’s actually helped the frat stay a healthy environment, 10/10 could trust the guys there with your drinks

Honestly at this point the frat is pretty much just Kaeya’s Followers(tm) and by his senior year the juniors get worried about it because “uhhh who becomes Kaeya when Kaeya graduates” and when they try to ask Kaeya this question he just winks and gives an answer that is entirely unhelpful and sounds like it’s at least 80% bullshit

Never seems to go to class and yet somehow always has amazing grades

In a relationship acts very flirty and is constantly teasing you in public, but stops short of anything above mild pda and in private gets really soft and sweet he’ll deny it if you try to point this out in front of others though

Childe

Is in the literal douchiest frat on campus fuck the Fatui like you’re constantly trying to get him to de-brother but he’s got a misplaced loyalty to them that keeps him in the organization

First time you met him you wanted to punch him in the face but he also quickly becomes the only thing stopping you from failing out of a class the two of you share and over the course of that time he manages to win you over at least a little bit

It’s all fun and games until someone pisses him off. He’s another one that you have to try and drag away from physical altercations on a semi-regular basis

Once he notices that you care enough to try and drag him away or worry about him if he’s injured in a fight, he starts picking more of them just to see your reaction

Even if y’all’s relationship is entirely platonic he flirts with you. He thinks it’s funny when he can manage to fluster you so he tries to make a game out of it even if he doesn’t actually mean any of the things he’s saying

If you guys are in a relationship he definitely packs on the PDA, partially to fluster you, partially because he’s possessive and he doesn’t like the way some of his frat brothers look at you sometimes so he wants everyone to be totally clear on who exactly you belong to

Zhongli

Still rich, still never has any fucking money on him. The number of times you’ve had to cover for this man because he’s forgotten his wallet in his dorm or straight up lost it is honestly ridiculous at this point but you can’t even be mad at it because he invites you to his family’s beach house and shit to compensate

He’s the kind of rich where his family has had money forever so he genuinely doesn’t even realize that some things aren’t normal experiences like not everyone grew up with a butler and all designer clothes, etc.

Definitely an Econ major because his parents want him to take over the family corporation but on the low has 0 intentions of doing so and actually intends to create his own start up after graduation and do something he wants to do without having to answer to anyone

He’s so pretty and for what? Mans is oblivious as fuck. Literally half the people on campus that are into dudes have a crush on him but he has no idea and if you try to point it out to him he’ll wave you off

In a relationship he’s either taking you to the shitty Mexican restaurant on campus that’s open until like 3am on weekends or five star restaurants, no in between. You’re either eating like royalty because he knows you deserve it, or eating like broke college kids because he wants the ✨experience✨

He gives me gentlemanly PDA vibes, like he’s not gonna makeout with you in the quad but he’ll kiss your hand or your cheek, hold you close to him, and otherwise make it clear that he’s very much happily in love with you

Diluc

Not only is this man not in a frat, he probably actively campaigns against their existence and isn’t quiet about hating them

Always goes to class and thus always has amazing grades

Won’t get into physical fights the way Childe and Xiao do even though he could hold his own in one if he wanted to, but regularly gets into debates with people and is not afraid to drag you into the middle of it even if it has nothing to do with you

Doesn’t drink which frequently means him playing caretaker/mom friend when y’all go to parties together and while he might complain about it he secretly loves that you trust him to take care of you if you get sloppy drunk/high/crossed

Flusters easily but good at hiding it. If you flirt with this man in public his expression won’t change while he’s telling you to stop fucking around but his face will be going as red as his hair

In a relationship he’s not a fan of PDA but is a fan of you, so while he probably keeps the affection to a minimum while you’re out and about he still is maintaining some sort of physical contact with you most of the time or at the very least is keeping you close

#hhrequests #hopeless.olivia #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin tohma #tohma headcanons #genshin xiao #xiao headcanons #genshin kaeya #kaeya headcanons #genshin childe #childe headcanons #genshin zhongli #zhongli headcanons #genshin diluc #diluc headcanons

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c-c-cherry · 4 years

Note

OOH I GOT A GOOD REQUEST,,,, How about Jonathan’s reaction to each of the jojos, and their jobros?

*Jonathan looking down at his absolutely fucked family tree, a single tear running down his cheek*

Listen...I always say that *insert literally any character* is the best parental figure but it's Jonathan hours which legally means I can call Jonathan best dad in this post regardless of anything I’ve said in the past about any other best dads.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Lemme just implement my soft Jonathan headcanons first:

-Soft man. The king of manly tears. Tears down toxic masculinity like a fucking bulldozer

-Knits AND crochets. He never had a mother growing up so when Erina came in with all these lovely, traditionally feminine skills, he wanted to learn ALL OF IT

-Arguably gives the best hugs out of every Jojo (Josuke is a pretty close second, though)

-Since this post is just an impossible dimensional pocket where anything can happen, him and Erina live in one of those old grandma cottage-houses with a comfy, old couch and tacky curtains and a really cute little garden

-Again, if this is a pocket dimension he’s definitely hosting the Joestar family reunion there

-Just one of those houses where everyone feels comfortable

-Is impossible to piss off (except if you do anything to the people he loves)

-Always speaks in a very soft, understanding voice even when he’s mad/disappointed

-The father figure all the Jojos wish they had

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Part 2:

-You know that face you make when you watch someone you love do something insanely stupid but you’re still trying to keep positive because you know from experience that trying to stop them is futile?

-Just this constant, wincing smile?

-Yeah. That pretty much sums up Jonathan’s expression within any vicinity of Joseph Joestar

-He loves the man. He really does. But oh my god is he a dumbass

-Jonathan is the type of man to like,,,make bread and talk about his feelings but Joseph wants none of that shit and that’s ok,,,Jonathan can and will find another way to bond

-Regardless, he loves his Himbo grandson and the two of them end up talking about Erina and Speedwagon and a lil bit of Hamon too :3

-CAESAR on the other hand—Jonathan is so fucking happy to see a descendant of the Zeppeli’s continuing the whole Hamon thing and managing to be friends with Joseph

-Although Joseph never wants to talk about it outside of fighting, Jonathan and Caesar both share this tender love for the healing aspect of it :’)

-He teaches Caesar how to do stuff like grow/heal plants and flowers and Caesar ends up growing his own sunflowers in Jonathan’s backyard :)

-Smokey reminds him of Poco and he literally just wants to protect him with his whole heart hhhhhhhh

-Suzi Q also reminds him of Erina, but he still has no idea how she puts up with Joseph’s bullshit (and whenever she can’t decide what to wear, he always helps)

-He penalizes Lisa Lisa for being a fucking Hamon coach and also smoking cause like-

Part 3:

-Hgggghnn HEAR ME OUT but between him and Joseph, Jotaro arguably has more qualities of Jonathan including this wonderfully secret, sweet, sensitive side

-Jonathan grows flowers using Hamon and braids them into Star Plat’s hair (he has practice when doing it with Erina) :))))

-Joot claims to hate the bread that Jonathan bakes but if he DOES make it y’all know you’ll find him sitting there, eating it, and talking about his feelings like a good man should (but only if no one else is around)

-Arguably the only responsible father figure in his life and the only one who would scold him for literally going to jail

-Also apologizes profusely for not killing DIO the first time ;(

-Kakyoin is the kind of person you could just sit in silence with for hours doing shit like reading or painting or something and Father Jojo is loving the vibe

-YES JONATHAN WOULD HAVE A HOME GARDEN and every year he grows cherries for Kak >:)

-Pol is a bit extreme for him, but if he can handle Joseph then he can handle this man

-As rich, Victorian boys often did, he definitely studied french as a kid and can surprisingly hold a pretty good conversation

-Him and Avdol!!!! Feed his chickens together!! And engage in lovely, civil conversation :)))))

-Holy definitely inherited Jonathan and Erina’s sweet nature and she’s always down to compare knitting techniques with him :)

Part 4:

-Is it....is it safe to say that Jonathan just adopts all of Morioh?

-Ok but Josuke gets along with everybody (Rohan doesn’t count hgfjgh) so you already know he’d be up for some nice familial bonding (though he wouldn’t show it initially)

-I feel like he’d be hesitant at first because him and Joseph are already on weird terms and he doesn't wanna “intrude” on the Joestar family or anything like that

-But our man Jonathan is here to reassure him that he’s still a part of the family and his cute little grandma house door is always open for him when he needs it

-Jonathan would bake that bread and Josuke would be sittin’ on that couch pouring his heart out before that shit even comes out of the oven

-Josuke’s the biggest out of his friends so getting completely engulfed in a nice, warm, loving Jonathan hug is the best shit

-Like instant serotonin :)

-Crazy Diamond doesn’t have any hair so no stand braiding :( BuT Josuke will let his hair down sometimes and you already know master weaver Jonathan Joestar is braiding in some purple flowers and shit :)

-Okuyasu isn’t that smart academically, but our man has a big heart and that’s all Jonathan cares about

-Jonathan always makes soup for him whenever he’s down because Oku’s mama used to make him soup when he was sad too ;-;

-The two bond over losing a mother at a young age and never being close with their father and feeling unwanted growing up and its the sweetest shit

-Koichi would just,,,,stare in awe because between Jonathan, Joseph, and Jotaro he feels like a fucking ant (and is honestly kinda scared)

-The first time they meet, Jonathan tries to ruffle his hair and accidentally PUSHES THE BOY INTO THE CONCRETE and he feels so bad after, that he spends all night knitting him a new sweater

-He gives it to Koichi with apologetic tears in his eyes and Koichi fucking LOVES IT with all his heart

-Rohan is extremely intrigued by all of this shit and they two of them spend hours talking about Jonathan’s life

-Rohan ends up giving him a painting of Erina and now Jonathan sends him his favourite cookies on his birthday every year

-Also him and Tonio are real good buds and Tonio never yells at Jonathan for “eating impolitely” like George used to because he knows its just a sign that he loves his food :)

Part 5:

-What can I say? Both Jonathan and Giorno got a love for flowers and life, and that’s literally all they do together

-Like,,,their happiness is in one giant, contagious loop because when Jojo’s really happy, his Hamon will just make shit bloom everywhere and when Giogio is happy, his stand will go fucking bonkers and change shit into plants

-Ok but what if,,,they braided flowers into each other’s hair? :D

-Jonathan would bake the bread. Giorno would sit hesitantly on the couch. The moment this kid takes a bite with that GOOD jam he’s like “HAHA there goes my stoic front whoops-”

-Jonathan thought Giorno would get cold in the winter so he crocheted a heart the size of his tiddy window and gave it to him for Christmas

-As I said previously, him and Bruno would go fucking hard on tea parties and all that shit -Both are the obvious mom friend, it’s impossible for them not to get along

-Abba’s a little,,,iffy about him, but eventually grows on him the more Abbacchio actually starts warming up to Giorno (for whatever reason)

-Jonathan’s never really had to deal with teenagers that much (aside from when he was one himself,) so he really has no idea what the hell to do around Narancia and Mista because they’re so young and he feels like a fucking grandma around them

-But they’re always really sweet to him and ask if he wants to play COD but Jonathan has no idea why they could wanna play with a fish so he just smiles and laughs and hopes its a joke :’)

-When Trish wants her nails done, best jonadad is here to do it. She wants her hair done? Jonathan’s got that special brush that doesn’t hurt when you’re doing tangles. Hugs? Infinite hug supplier, babey. He’s really out here doing whatever it takes to keep best girl happy

-Fugo is,,,quiet,,,but he always comes over and eats the strawberries in his garden when they’re ready for harvest

-He even helps make them into jam :)

-He also teaches Fugo Hamon breathing techniques when he caught wind of his anger and it actually helps him a lot

-He considers everyone in that house his family too, and always invites them over for social events at his pocket dimension grandma house

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Jonathan Joestar lives in my head rent free...

If you’ve got a head canon idea, my ask box is always open!! <3

#jjba #jojos's bizarre adventure #jjba headcanons #headcanons #jonathan joestar #joseph joestar #jotaro kujo #josuke higashikata #giorno giovanna #jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind #diamond is unbreakable #battle tendency #ask-c-c-cherry #phantom blood #cw: smoking

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blackvelvetwriteson · 3 years

Note

Hi baby🥰🥰 please don't feel obligated to answer this or anything. But could you write some headcanons for Tendou & Sugawara? They could be platonic or not, nsfw or sfw, idrc. I just wanna see some Tendou x Suga headcanons 😌 oki bye I love you💖

Hi baby! Of course I’m gonna answer, don’t worry. Amidst all of this Thanksgiving bullshit, I’m already watching Haikyuu so I decided to whip up some of these HCs for you bc 1) you asked, duh, 2) I need to write for Haikyuu anyways, and 3) SUGAAAAAA BEBEIIIII imsorryiminlovewithHIMMMM-

Anways, so have some nipple sucking HCs because that’s what came to mind first- I love you so much and I hope this is what you wanted!

𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

-- 𝘍𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘚𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘢 𝘒ō𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘶 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪

GENRE: Smut

FANDOM: Haikyuu!

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUT! Just overstim, slight dacryphilia, nipple sucking- duh, and swearing!

SUMMARY: Just Reader-Chan (gender neutral) sucking on best boi nipples.

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈

He’s always enjoyed your guys’s encounters ever since the two of you first met.

You started off as a friend of the team of course, introduced to the other members by Hinata with his extroverted self.

Immediately, you took a liking to Sugawara; I mean y’all did go to the same school for awhile and were in the same class so it only made sense.

Everyone around you already knew you and him would make it out of high school.

You’d always hang out with each other, and when you two were alone, that’s when he asked you out.

Hell yeah! He cared for his team, so it only makes sense that he cared for you a little more because you were his S/O

It goes without saying that he was fairly traditional.

… And sensitive.

So when you asked him- directly- if you could suck on his nipples, he instantly turned red and fell silent.

At first, you thought you struck a nerve and hurt him in some way because his eyes started to glisten more.

“I-It was just a suggestion- we don’t have to do it.”

He looked even more red, this being one of the only times he’d let you dom him.

“Get on top.”

No other direction had to be said, and he quickly- and easily- forced you into his lap.

You couldn’t help but to notice- already- how hard he was under you.

I guess he really is an imaginative character, huh?

He closed his eyes and looked away, his nipples already hard and peeking at you from under his shirt.

The both of you were in college, but it was apparent that something like this had never happened to him before.

You couldn’t help but to run your hands under his shirt first, feeling around his toned chest.

Just to fish for his reactions, you palmed his hardened nipples and smirked as you waited.

It was a short wait; instantly, his back arched and his body pushed into yours as he clenched his eyes shut.

You thought you’d hurt him until he leaned into you and let out one of his breathy moans that you loved so much.

“Harder,” he panted at you as he whined, wrapping one of his dainty hands around your wrist, forcing you to press into his pec more.

He looked like he was about to cry already as he got more antsy.

He knew that his body was sensitive and he’d easily cum from just you teasing his nipple with your hand.

“Someone’s a little needy tonight, hm?” You couldn’t help but to smirk down at him.

He couldn’t do anything but nod and clumsily move to try and pull up his shirt, panting like a dog without water after a run.

You laughed and ducked your head under his shirt that was halfway lifted and instantly locked your lips around his puckering nipple.

He was excited, maybe a little TOO excited.

Instantly, he threw his head back and let out a loud moan before slapping a hand over his mouth as to not alert the others that also live in the college dorms.

You pressed your tongue against it, pushed and teased and felt his cock throb in his pants as he started to tremble under you.

From how he was breathing, he sounded like he was about to pass out.

You had to pull away and remind him to calm down.

“Slow down your breathing, babe. You’ll pass out,” you cooed at him softly.

“I-I’m sorry, Sugar,” he whimpered quietly as he bucked his hips into you. “I-It just f-feels too good! I ca-can’t-“

Without letting him finish, you nipped at his swollen nipple gently with your teeth.

As if he wasn’t already pushed over the edge, he jolted and practically stopped breathing, his toes curled as he let go of you, burying his hands into the bed beside him.

“S-Sugar! S-Su- S-Suga-“ he whined out as his tears rolled down his face, his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he trembled and melted under you.

You took in every single one of his moans and cries, his chest heaving as he became more overwhelmed.

You didn’t want to stop until he begged you to, so you bit his nipple again as you sucked hard.

Even though his shirt was over your head, he still managed to tug your hair at least a little, his free hand holding your hips down as he humped into you.

“I-I’m gonna c-cum S-Sugar,” he whimpered in between his uncontrollable, breathy, whiny moans.

You, of course were ready. You knew his day had been stressful and he’d been completely overwhelmed by you just teasing his nipples whether with your mouth or your hand.

So in response, all you did was suck harder hearing every peak of his moans and cries as he trembled and bucked his hips harder, orgasming as his toes curled, his nails practically ripped the sheets on his bed, his eyes still streaming tears as they rolled back into his head and he made no noise, not even breathing.

You had to pull away, fearing that he was already overtimed and you gently slapped his face.

He was trembling, and finally he took a deep breath, opening his pretty eyes to look up at you.

“I-I’m sorry Sugar,” he whispered softly as he nuzzled into your hand a little more. “I-It just f-felt too good,” he whispered as he closed his eyes, practically purring under your soft touch.

“There’s no need to apologize baby boy,” you cooed out quietly to him, gently swiping tendrils of ash grey hair from in front of his face. “Just relax and I’ll go order us some dinner. You have early practice tomorrow.”

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈

Of course it was the typical story of a forbidden rival school love.

not.

All in all, most of the schools respected Shiratorizawa back when you were in high school.

And to see him lingering around Kurasuno both made everyone’s morale leap at least 50% but also made them question wtf dude was doing there all the time.

He often helped the team practice and gave them pointers on how to get better, and also got you more involved too.

He’s always teasing, cracking jokes etc.

Sometimes it pissed you off; your name in his phone was “Itty Bitty Panda-Chan”

It didn’t help that you loved it and every time he called you his Itty Bitty Panda-Chan, it made you flustered.

Like usual, he played on it. All of the time.

Even alone.

You were hanging out with him at his house because he lived away from the college dorms and the two of you had finished with your work and had things for your next class situated for the next day, so you were playing games and he was… Well… Staring at you like usual.

“Is there a reason you’re staring at me, Idiot-San,” you mocked him constantly.

“Well… I have something in mind, Pan-Chan,” he dubbed you for short. You were interested but said absolutely nothing.

“Oh little Pan- Chaaaaan,” he teased as he climbed on top of you while you were still rested on your stomach.

He really didn’t have to do much to tease you or make you flustered since teasing was only natural for him.

Your body tensed up because of course your boyfriend was up to something. He always was.

“Answer me when I’m talking to you, my cute little Pan-Chan,” he whispered in your ear causing you to squeak.

“W-What d-did you have I-in mind, Satori,” you murmur as the next match of your game begins.

“Wow! I’m so happy you asked,” he teased as he forced you on your back and he laughed softly.

You’re just looking up at him like “I can’t pause it. It’s online.” And of course he doesn’t care.

Disrespectful bitch.

“How about…. Mmmm…. You give me the controller. I wanna play.”

That grin on his face when he was up to something said it all and you forked the controller over.

“What do you want, Ten?”

He looked like a little kid, slinging his feet over the bed with a laugh. “Chu chuuu~ This game is so… Cute,” he trailed off, seemingly sucked into the game in front of him.

That was, until you felt his strong hand on your hip, pulling you into his lap.

“T-Ten-“

“Shh,” he whispered as he lifted his hoodie, playing the game momentarily with one hand. “Suck… I want you to suck on them,” he whispered as he ‘dodged’ to one side, acting like he was the character in the game.

‘What is it with him tonight,’ you thought to yourself, just staring at his muscular chest.

You felt his gaze on you and you looked up with a soft gasp.

His cat-like eyes immediately locked with yours as he respawned in game. “I didn’t ask, Panda- Chan,” he said quietly, sternly, clearly. Honestly it kinda scared you.

“U-Um… O-Okay,” you thought you could handle him, but when he got like this, you couldn’t really. You liked how he had control over you no matter what.

As soon as your tongue pressed against one of his nipples you felt a flutter in his chest. And yours. His breathing got quicker and his eyes fluttered, but he still continued with that stupid demeaning tone of his.

“Chu chuuu~” He practically squealed. “That’s… N-Not g-good enough, Pan-Pan-Chan,” he gasped out softly as he leaned back.

Obviously, it was a lie. You could tell by how his legs jolted a little or his breathing quickened. He was loving every second of your teasing.

“C-Cut the shit, Satori,” you whispered softly, your hand timidly resting on his hip, the other one running over his abs.

“Mouthy, hm?” He looked down at you with that piercing gaze again. “Use all that spunk and suck harder,” he growled as he focused back in on the game, bucking his chest at you.

You did as instructed, savoring his sweet and salty taste, humming as you did so, your other hand palming at his sensitive chest as you stared up at him.

He threw his head back and let out a soft groan as he felt you get amped up and he laughed softly as he continued to play the game.

“Fuck yeah,” he whispered out softly as he grinded into you, not caring too much about the game at this point.

You were too far into it by now to just stop, and you loved every reaction you could get, and you let yourself go, accidentally biting his nipple, causing him to drop the controller, his eyes crossing a little as he tilted his head back.

You let out a little hollow laugh of your own and continued nibbling and kissing on his nipple feeling him practically melt beneath you. You held the power and you loved it.

Also hearing his moans and praises was definitely a huge boost for you to keep going.

You grinded your hips down into his bulge and moaned softly feeling how well he fit in between your legs.

It was apparent that this wasn’t enough to get him to cum, but close.

He tangled his fingers with your hair as he edged closer and closer to cumming, pulling you closer as he let out a strangled groan.

Obviously, this is gonna escalate into a lot more.

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shimmershae · 4 years

Text

Sometimes logic is the most, I don’t know, logical thing to apply to a situation.

Because Daryl Dixon has shown every*damn*body who his number one priority is this season.

He’s dropped wholeass conversations and pretended like people in front of him were all but invisible to meet Carol Peletier halfway on a dock when her ship come in and sweep her up in his arms and off her feet in the most exuberant and happily relieved hugs ever and essentially ignored the rest of the people loitering around because his vision narrowed strictly to her.

Right before that, he blew off discussions and scouting trips to investigate whether the latest big bad threatening the communities’ safety had returned in favor of waiting for her ship to come in and he continued to blow the whole situation off to get Carol alone for some quality just Carol and Daryl time.

Knowing the Whisperers were still out there, he still daydreamed of escaping to somewhere new and leaving everybody behind—everybody except Carol because she’s the only person he can envision actually escaping for and with.

The man made her a friendship bracelet and flirted and blushed in her presence like an awkward dork with a crush.

He expressly told Carol he needed her to stay.

He bodily restrained her from taking a second shot at Alpha when the bald baddie taunted her and he looked past any misgivings he might have had to tell her he believed her about the Whisperers nobody else had seen but Carol.

Before that, he came running when Carol screamed his name in that old school and fat chance convincing me he didn’t help carry her injured ass all the way to the same infirmary that he waited outside of like a worried husband.

He’s made her dinner trays with flowers, looking out for her physical well-being when she’s been lost in her ongoing grief and he felt powerless to help with it.

His thoughts, this season, have rarely strayed from her and his eyes have been open and watching out for her because he wants to be her safety net while she’s been struggling so very much with Henry’s loss and her consuming need for vengeance. I mean, granted. Daryl Dixon is no fuss, no muss pretty much 24/7, but have y’all ever seen a man get his ass ready that quick to follow a woman without some kind of promised benefit to him? Yeah. Naw.

He did his version of getting the Dixon flirt on again when they were tossing acorns at a can—because they be cutely competitive af.

Daryl Dixon when teased by Carol Peletier about whether his budding friendship with a sweet and seemingly perfect fellow community member could be more? Deadass told her with utmost seriousness and sincerity that it wasn’t like that—not at all.

And then proceeded to pocket the double capper acorn Carol gave him as a good luck charm right over his heart and later gaze at it longingly in the privacy of his own room.

When they were doing their good cop/bad cop routine with the captured Whisperer, Daryl only really lost his cool when the Whisperer made some lewd and disrespectful comments to Carol.

The man has argued for her to sit the more potentially dangerous missions out and remain in the relative safety of Alexandria.

When she went along anyway? Again she was his primary focus. So much so he stopped her from walking into a literal trap, called her on her bullshit, and comforted her when the tears come in a way that honestly? Daryl Dixon has never really shown the inclination to do. By thumbing her tears away from her cheeks, hugging her tight and nuzzling her hair while telling to tell him. To open up to him with her feelings and her fears. And that they “have a future.”

Carol was so much in his sights on that same mission that he immediately recognized when her attention strayed and sent their group running after her into the unknown.

He followed, of course, and Carol’s name was the only name that ever passed from his lips. She was the first person he sought out in the darkness. The first one he encouraged to follow him to relative safety.

When her claustrophobia reared its ugly head, he was the one informing others so that they might offer their own comfort and he didn’t stand a second for Magna getting all up in Carol’s face.

He asked Carol to follow his light when her claustrophobia had her frozen. Everybody else, including a dear sweet deaf woman and her sister—also losing her hearing, were told to follow his voice. 🤦‍♀️

He let Kelly’s ass somersault at his literal feet and gently tugged Carol to safety.

He followed her back into that dark cave and pleaded to her with tears in his eyes and emotion tightening his voice to come back with him and he was all about getting her to safety when that faulty dynamite slipped.

Daryl Dixon didn’t even look back to make sure any of his other friends and community members had made it out of that cave until he knew Carol Peletier was a safe distance away.

Try convincing me his ensuing emotional breakdown wasn’t just as much, probably more about Carol breaking her recent promise to him to think more clearly and be more cautious. Helpful word of advice? Stop while you’re ahead.

Instead of scouting out an alternative way back into the cave to possibly rescue C0nnie and Magna later? The man tried to singlehandedly take on the source of so much of Carol’s grief—Alpha herself, when he so recently discouraged Carol from such a lone wolf action—and ended up seriously injured as a result.

Back at Hilltop? In spite of the hurt he felt, Daryl told Carol perhaps the truest truth there is when he said “I’m never gonna hate you.”

During this same time frame, he made little reference to the two people lost at the cave. Not because he doesn’t value their lives because he does. But he values the community’s overall safety more and the only times he’s ever been shown to blink in that regard? It’s always been because of Carol Peletier.

After the fall of Hilltop, when he and Negan crossed paths and Negan alluded to Carol as Daryl’s girlfriend? Daryl doesn’t even blink. And whereas before, the safety of the community mattered more? The man chills with someone he deadass hates waiting patiently all night for Carol to come back to him. Let’s not even talk about how many hours he probably paced and waited inside Alexandria’s gates.

So. Who do y’all suppose has been Daryl’s number one priority all damn season? Huh?

I’ll give you three guesses and the other two don’t count. Just for giggles I will demonstrate who it ain’t by giving a basic outline of the kind of focus her bond with Daryl has gotten.

At the beginning of the season, Daryl was on his way down to the docks to wait for Carol’s boat to come in with he crossed paths with a new friend and Dog happily sought out pets because what Doggo of any salt or intellect will turn down pets from a pair of kind hands that have fed it before?? Daryl and this friend shared a cute little two second convo that was interrupted and abandoned with his first sight of Carol waving at him like he was her sweetheart there to welcome her home and this friend basically ceased to exist from that moment until her sister went missing for a short while.

Daryl, already being present after accompanying Siddiq to Hilltop and caring about the overall welfare of the communities and such, helped in the search for Kelly and even told this new friend a funny story about his own (departed) sibling as a means of comfort and gave her hand a reassuring maybe two second long squeeze. Honestly? There were so many echoes of his friendship with Denise when I see these two together. So many. But I digress.

Once Kelly was found and safe, Daryl’s attention reverted back to form and he didn’t linger at Hilltop. They had a weird little interlude where I still can’t figure out whether she was trying to butter him up to keep her own family’s secret or was genuinely welcoming him as a fellow found family member.

Anyhoo, their paths didn’t even cross again until they did a combined search for Alpha’s horde and Lydia and Daryl acknowledged her with a shoulder tap to get her attention—I mean, he was approaching her from behind and she couldn’t hear him so.

What little bit of interaction they had in the cave basically came about because of Carol and I gotta tell you. The man deadass forgot she existed when he was trying to help get Carol out of there.

We’ve already kinda covered what I thought about his reaction to the cave in, but I will say this. Leave y’all with a little food for thought: if Carol was underneath those rocks, can any of y’all logically see the man leaving there for any reason short of Judith and RJ being in immediate danger?

Can you? Because I can’t.

If they had managed to tear him away even briefly, his ass would be right back first chance he got. And suppose he’d run into Alpha in the meantime. I don’t think he would have attacked her until he found a way to get to Carol. Naw. That attack was all about Carol (and maybe Lydia) from the word go. Else Daryl would have been smart and patient and found his way in that damn cave to mount a rescue.

You know why?

Because logic. The story’s shown us the way this season. Logic and history. A whole ten fucking years of history.

Daryl Dixon can’t lose Carol Peletier anymore than she can lose him.

Only in the absence of all logic can anyone ever think differently.

Explains a lot, huh?

And some people are still up in arms over Daryl simply soldiering forward and not having the singular thought of C0nnie, C0nnie, C0nnie in his brain when his communities, his long established found family, and the one person he absolutely cannot lose still need safeguarding.

I mean, he cares but Daryl done told every*damn*body already. Take it from the man himself, the reason why.

“It’s not like that. Not at all.”

I know logic isn’t really this show’s strong suit, but in this case? The story has been leading us to one logical conclusion all season, and I don’t think it’s the one that some people out there are prepared to accept. I mean, yeah. I’d feel some kinda way, but.

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side-effect-of-the-meds · 4 years

Text

So, it seems that some of y’all have taken an interest in Niko!!! I’m so glad. Anyway, here’s part two

Nikoshi is torn between charging up to hug his literal fucking idol and keeping up a cool kid facade. Fortunately, the cool kid facade wins out. If Niko had touched Kevin, he would not have been able to stop himself from flinging the kid across the lawn. There’s something that’s just so… so… Riko about the kid that Kevin is on the verge of breakdown.

Ichirou kind of ushers him into the house and Kevin sits down very mechanically on the couch. From the kitchen, Aaron walks out and is faced with Niko for the first time. Niko’s heard about Kevin Day’s husband before but he’s never seen him.

“You’re really short,” is the first thing out of his mouth. This kid, this absolute asshole, walks into his fucking house and the first fucking thing he says is ‘You’re really short’???? Aaron is so stunned by this kid and his bullshit that he doesn’t even say anything.

Amalia wanders out from the kitchen at the commotion in the living room and the second she sees Niko her first reaction is friend????? New fren??????? She’s very excited. Before she can go out and say anything, Aaron snags her and makes his way into the living room to sit beside Kevin and sets her in his lap. She keeps squirming bc she wants to meet new fren.

Anyway, Ichirou has already called the two of them and has informed him of who the kid is. They’re going to have to take him to the doctor and get some ‘blood work’ done to confirm Ichirou’s suspicions but they already know. He looks too much like Riko to not be his kid

Ichirou asks a few questions, all of which Aaron has to answer seeing as Kevin is too busy silently flipping his shit. Both Niko and Kev spend the whole half an hour just staring at each other in awestruck silence.

Ichirou leaves and Aaron says it’s time for dinner. They all eat at the dinner p quietly, except for Amalia who has run out of patience. She insists on sitting next to Niko and blabbering on and on about something or the other. She’s 5 at this point so she’s mostly talking about her crayons and showing Niko that she can count to fifty. For the most part, Niko is content to listen to her bc it means he doesn’t really have to talk.

After dinner, Aaron takes Niko upstairs to show him his room and hands him some clothes. As soon as Aaron heard the news, he’d gone down to target and just picked some random basic shit out. He tells Niko that they’ll go to the mall soon so that they can pick up a few things that’ll actually fit him. Niko’s never had new clothes in his life. He doesn’t know how to feel about it.

He puts all of his emotions aside for the time being. He’ll have to evaluate them later. Niko starts to pull his shirt off and he hears Aaron gasp. Only then does he realize that the bruises from his last foster haven’t faded yet. He goes red and backs away, trips over something and falls onto his butt.

“Niko-” Aaron started, moving forward. Immediately, Niko flinched violently and Aaron stilled. Schooling his face into neutrality, Aaron dropped his hands to his side. “Get changed and come down. I want to see the bruises.”

“No,” Niko spat.

“I’m not asking,” Aaron countered flatly. “As soon as you’ve changed, you will come downstairs and we will treat the bruises. Are we clear?” Niko nodded. Aaron backed out of the room, shutting the door to give Niko some privacy.

“What bruises?” Kevin asked, starling a curse out of him.

“Kev, he’s covered in them,” Aaron replied. Anger burned in his chest. In that moment, there was nothing Aaron wanted more than to hunt down whomever had hurt Niko so badly and beat them black and blue. All that kept him grounded was the pain of his nails biting into his palms. He felt Kevin’s arms wrap around him and he left himself be held. “He looks worse than I ever did,” Aaron whispered. His voice sounded hollow, even to his own ears.

“He’s going to be okay, baby. He’s here now. We’ll take care of him,” Kevin assured as he stroked his hair.

A few minutes later, Niko steps out and lets them take him downstairs. Amalia is long gone, put to bed so that she doesn’t witness this absolute horror that her dads are about to see. Aaron has a makeshift clinic set up in the house and he makes Niko sit down on the little bed and take his shirt off.

Kevin curses and gets smacked for cursing in front of Niko. After figuring out how old they are, Aaron sets to work massaging creams into them to heal them faster. His hands are firm, unyielding, but gentle enough that they don’t hurt. It’s a foreign feeling to Niko. He’s never not been touched by anyone without them intending for him to hurt.

Aaron asks Niko if there are anymore. Niko is tempted to lie to him but something in Aaron’s dark brown eyes coaxes him into telling the truth. He wriggles out of his pants to show him the bruises on his legs.

Lashes from rulers stripe his legs. A few scars have accumulated from the metal part cutting into his skin. Kevin sucks a breath in through his teeth when he sees them. He’s been hit with the metal edge of a ruler before. He’s got the same scars on his legs.

Aaron rubs scar cream into them and takes care of the remaining bruises. He’s so pissed off and it shows on his face. Niko, the poor, sweet bean thinks that Aaron is mad at him. So many adults have gotten angry with him for being such a problem.

He slides off the table when Aaron tells him to and changes back into his clothes. They dismiss him so he slips back upstairs. Kevin and Aaron stay downstairs to talk for a little while. Neither of them say it outloud but they both come to the consensus that, Riko’s son or not, they will protect Niko with their lives.

It’s not quite as easy as you’d think. Riko was such a bitch and he caused them and their families so much pain. Over the course of the next few months, every time Niko raises his voice, Kevin flinches violently. There are times when Aaron has to discreetly escort him away to help him avoid the impending panic attack.

They’d told Bee that they were taking in Riko’s son and she’d mentioned that it would be hard on Kev but Aaron hadn’t thought it would be this bad. It’s been almost twelve years since Riko’s death but Kevin is still such a broken man.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t trying. Kev drives Niko to school himself every day and picks him up from the bus stop every morning. They work on his history projects together and stress out over math together. Aaron is an amazing science tutor but he’s also very insistent that Niko actually learns things for himself.

Over the summer, Kev takes Niko to the court Every. Single. Day. Aaron, who’s the head physician for Kevin’s team is almost always sitting on the sideline with Amalia to keep an eye on them. He doesn’t need Kev killing their kids.

Most of Kevin’s frustration comes from the fact that Niko shows absolutely NO POTENTIAL. I mean, baby boi is just tripping over his own two feet and can barely keep track of his steps while holding the ball only to have Kevin just FUCKING BARREL INTO HIM BC HE KNOWS NO RESTRAINT ON THE COURT BC HE’S A DUMBASS!

Anyway, Aaron eventually intervenes and kicks Kev off the court. He just kinda sits a really huffy Niko down on the bench and asks him if something’s wrong. After a great deal of gently coaxing, Niko admits that Kevin is kind of scary.

Aaron digs his shit out of the closet and steps on the court and he helps teach Niko the basics. In a week, Niko is playing incredibly well for his age and Kevin is pissed bc how tf did Aaron manage this????

Anyway, Niko is playing really well by then so he tries out for the team and makes it! He’s playing varsity despite being in 7th grade and is a starting offense dealer.

He tried out for dealer in middle school but he only ever plays as a striker at home. It’s his secret and he’s not keen to show his hand just yet. He’s also a halfway decent goalkeep. That being said, both Aaron and Kev are comparing him to the best goalkeep in the Southern circuit so calling him half-way decent is an understatement but I digress.

Anyway, he’s an incredible player bc he has a lot of individual skill but he’s not much of a team player. More than once, he’s mouthed off to the wrong kid and gotten himself into trouble. That being said, he’s really fast so he’ll just nyoom off before anyone can beat his ass and no one has the time or energy to pursue him for it.

It’s not until 8th grade that he gets into serious trouble.

Kev and Aaron are called down to the school bc Niko’s gotten himself into a fight. When they get there, they just about die. Their baby boy has a massive black eye and there’s bruises on his arm from someone holding him down. They are so so so pissed off.

When they ask what happens Niko doesn’t say anything. One of the kids says that he was bullying them. Neither Kev nor Aaron buy that.

What happened was a bunch of kids were picking on someone and Niko was having none of that shit. He absolutely unleashed and shreds the kids, picking out insecurities they didn’t even know they had and trashing them. So caught up in roasting these ho’s Niko didn’t realize it was time to dip until it was too late. The kids beat the crap out of him and he can barely stand.

When the kid Niko was defending ghosts into the room Kev and Aaron immediately know what’s going on.

Niko,,,,,,, has caught feelings. Babie is looking at this kid like they hung the goddamn moon and, honestly, they couldn’t past them. Winter Aziz (they/them) is,,,,, stunning and it wouldn’t surprise either of Kev or Aaron if they’d crafted the moon. The two of them are now betting on how long it’s going to take Niko to figure out he likes the kid.

But back to the actual story.

Anyway, once Winter gives their side of the story, the dean admits that the boys were in the wrong. Two of the boys end up getting suspended. Apparently, Winter’s parents are busy so they offer them a ride home. In the rearview mirror, Kev can see Niko squirming bc Winter is just sitting so close!!!! They stop by this lil diner that Niko loves and buy him a milkshake. They offer to buy Winter one too but they decline. Niko ends up offering to share and its ADORABLE!!!! Aaron snaps a pic and sends it to Kev so that they can both be reminded of this cuteness.

Anyway, needless to say, Winter and Niko are now best friends. They do everything together and have a lot of,,,,,,, sleepovers in which Kev and Aaron feel really bad bc Niko’s gone gone for his best friend and Winter doesn’t seem to notice.

That’s bullshit. Winter knows Niko likes them. They’re just not ready to admit that they like him too.

Over the summer before 9th grade, Winter becomes a part of their summer practice. They’ve taken an interest in sports medicine bc they can be close to Niko.

Midway through July, Kevin gives up trying to get Niko to be a team player. He’s just not the kind of person who can teach him how to be that kind of person.

But he knows someone who can.

It’s a late night on the court and Niko’s run himself ragged.

“It’s no use to play against an empty goal,” a voice Niko knows too well said. It took every ounce of his energy to sit up enough to see Neil Josten standing above him. “Why don’t you give him a real challenge?” he asked as he stepped aside, revealing a man who looked exactly like Niko’s dad. The man said nothing. Instead, he moved quietly to stand in the goal. “Better hurry up, Niko. Andrew doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” With that, Neil left Niko on the court to face off against the best goalkeep in the Southern circuits all on his own.

#just a pipe dream #the foxhole court #all for the game #tfc #aftg #aaron minyard #aaron micheal minyard #kevaaron #kevin day #kevin day hc #ichirou moriyama #riko moriyama #neil josten #andrew minyard #andrew joseph minyard #nikoshi doe #winter aziz

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kunderdogs · 4 years

Text

VAV / Calling Them Daddy In Front Of The Members

So I might have had a little too much fun with this...It’s long lol to all my hispanics/latinas, don’t hate me for Ayno’s...oh god I feel like i need to go to church after this one. I’m not even gonna front, this was probably the most I’ve laughed doing a reaction.

I’m not a big fan of the daddy kink. I’m more a “papi”, “sir” but I can really see the appeal in it. Lord please forgive me for I have sinned...

St. Van:

Geumhyuk is the perfect example of daddy, idc idc idc. But you hadn’t noticed the boys in the house when you bust in the front door, wine drunk after your friends had a girls night. You had been missing your incredibly handsome boyfriend and, instead of crashing at your friends house, you called a taxi to take your drunk ass home. On the way back home, you forgot the members were over to watch that new superhero movie.

“Daddy~! Daddy, where are you~!” You called, voice loud in the hallway and almost purring. “Your baby girl is home for some good dic- JESUS FUCK!”

There were seven wide eyes staring at you. In the darkness of the living room, you noticed that the members were either huddled under blankets or on the couch, a big bowl of popcorn on the ground. Ayno smirked and smacked his leader playfully.

“Ooooh, what is this?!” He teased, before the others quickly recovered and focused on a red-faced Geumhyuk, who looked absolutely mortified.

He would be so shook that you would say that in front of the members even if you didn’t remember they were around. Is sooooo embarrassed for them having found out one of his kinks. He doesn’t blame you though, it’s not your fault you’re drunk and horny. He takes the teasing very well because as soon as the boys had their fun, he gives you a dark look and in that authrotive deep voice he knows has you weak in the knees, he says,

“Get in the room. I’ll deal with you in a second.” DADDY MODE ACTIVATED.

Ohhhh yeah, he’s going to punish you even if he’s not mad at all. If anything, he’s a bit smug about it but will hide that well just so he can justify spanking you. Is it really a punishment if you like though...

Baron:

It slips one night at dinner when the members were talking about kinks and the nastiest shit they’ve ever done. Chunghyeop was naturally shy, the opposite of you - who had no problem talking about the details of your sex life with your girlfriends. You kept your mouth shut to save him the embarrassment though as you figured he wouldn’t want his closest friends to know what y’all did in the bedroom. During that conversation, Jacob teases you two that you seem like the most vanilla couple ever but you just roll your eyes, one foot rubbing the side of Chunghyeop’s leg under the table.

An hour later, when the rest of the boys were distracted with cleaning or playing video games in the living room, you leaned over Baron’s shoulder as he sat on the couch to whisper, “Come to bed, daddy. It’s cold without you...”

There was a choking sound near the side of you and you saw Lou pounding his chest, water cup in hand as Ziu smirked at you before looking to his older member. “You guys are into that freaky shit?”

“What freaky shit?” Jacob was immediately interested and you two didn’t get to stop Heejun from spilling what you just said.

Soon enough, they were whooping and hollering you two like a bunch of teenagers (save for Lou who was still semi-choking off to the side).

At first, Chunghyeop is so embarrassed. He’ll bite his lip, hide his blushing face in his hands or into your body so you’d shield him from all the teasing they were throwing at him. Feeling your reassuring hands rubbing his back to comfort him would make him realize that you two were both adults and having kinks were normal and healthy.

He would glare weakly at the giggling members and say something along the lines of, “At least I’m getting some. Don’t kink shame me.”

He was too cute to be taken seriously but they wouldn’t push him too far. For the next month, he would definitely have to endure them giving him kissy faces and calling him daddy.

Ace:

When he unlocked the door to your apartment, flicking the lights on to see the romantic set up of candles and rose petals scattered along the living room floor with a single chair in the very middle, he knew he should’ve called instead of texted you. The six boys behind him piled in then stopped immediately as they noticed the atmosphere. St. Van was saying something about how they should leave just as the sharp sound of stilettos echoed when you rounded the corner. “I’ve been waiting for you, Daddy. It’s been such a long t-”

Wooyoung bit his lip, eyes narrowing on you instantly. Yep, he really should’ve called you so that you would’ve gotten the memo that he was bringing the guys over to drink in celebration for their successful tour.

You were dressed very scantily in a crimson babydoll lingerie set, a matching silk robe slipping down your shoulders. Upon noticing more than one person at the door, you screamed a very loud “WHAT THE FUCK”, quickly scrambling to cover yourself with the robe before rushing back into the bedroom as fast as you could in those damn stripper heels. With the loud slam of the door behind you, you knew the damage was already done.

There was such a tense silence that followed that Wooyoung did not know how to break it. All of them were wide-eyed at the place you had been standing previously.

It felt like an eternity passed before someone cleared their throat and Ace heard Baron say, “So...daddy, hm?”

It took about two seconds for him to push them all out of the apartment, and lock it loud enough to cause chuckles to be heard through the door.

Taking a deep breath to collect himself, Wooyoung quickly stripped of his shoes and the hoodie he had was discarded on the back of the couch before he stalked into the room you were in. Out of all the members, Wooyoung wouldn’t care if you said it in front of them on accident. A slip of the tongue is just that. However, he is very possessive and does not like sharing, even going so far as trying to monopolize your attention when you were with the group. So this incident would test him in ways he was not ready to be tested. You were punished for “ignoring” his texts but rewarded for planning such a sweet surprise for him.

Either way, the boys couldn’t look you in the eye for weeks after that but Wooyoung was ten times more cocky whenever you were around them all. His kink was exposed to the members but hey...he was the only one you called daddy so he didn’t mind them knowing that little bit of information.

Ayno:

Just before VAV went on tour, you had mentioned to Ayno that you wanted to try the daddy kink after hearing one of your friends say it was a huge turn on. He had blushed and stuttered so hard you felt bad for bringing it up. He reassured you that he would try it out but when you saw his cherry-red face, you dropped it all together. It wouldn’t be fun if he didn’t enjoy it as well.

Weeks went by and honestly, being as busy as he was, Yoonho totally forgot about it. That was, until they were on tour and you called him while all the guys were huddled in St. Van’s and Baron’s hotel room, all hovered over the large spread of food on the floor.

Unfortunately, you had chose the worst of times to call him that little nickname.

It was a long day for you, full of bullshit at your job only to come home to a cold home. You tried to distract yourself with a movie, only to find out there was an erotic sex scene in it. It was suddenly too damn hot and you had to get some kind of relief. However, after forty minutes of working yourself, nothing was working!! You reached for your phone - usually just hearing Yoonho’s deep voice was enough to send you in a frenzy so you hoped this would be enough. If you had known he was around all the guys there was no way in hell you would’ve called.

Casual conversation was going around the circle as they discussed their upcoming concert the next night when Ayno saw your smiling face light up his lockscreen. Not thinking anything of it, he answered the call, putting it on speaker so he could hear you over the music coming from Ace’s bluetooth.

“Hey baby, I-”

A moan cut him off, completely taken him for a fucking loop. “Daddy, I need you right now. I can’t - Fuck, I wish you were here and I wish these were your fingers on me instead of my own-”

He dropped the phone in his utter panic, fumbling for the damn thing while you continued your dirty spiel, unknowing of the bug-eyed members of his group that were gawking at their blonde rapper. It was so silent on their end that they could hear everything.

“Shit, daddy, I miss you,” you whined and he finally grabbed the phone only to scream internally when he realized it was locked. “Daddy, I’m so close- ah, I’m almost there - Yoonho oh god-!”

Finally, fina-fucking-lly, he managed to unlock the phone and promptly hang up on you. There was absolutely nothing he else he could’ve done in that moment. Not with how there were six pair of eyes burning holes in his head. The phone was now in front of him on the floor, his hands tightly wound together as they pressed against his lips and your picture flashed on the screen again.

He didn’t dare fucking answer it. Nope. He swallowed the saliva in his throat and felt like the room was way too small in that moment. Had his pants shrunk? He had to leave before they said something about this.

Too late. Ace, his water bottle frozen in mid air, recovered first and gave him a sly-smile. “Does our Ayno have a daddy kink?”

Pink-faced and panic rising, Yoonho nearly threw his hands up in defense. “Wha- No, no, not me! I’m not the one, I swear! It’s her! She had - she -”

Seeing the shit-eating grins on their faces only grow, he did the only thing he thought of at the moment. He grabbed his phone and bolted back to his room to hide out. They did not let this go, oh no. The remainder of the tour, they spent almost all their down time to tease him and reveled in how red they could make their usually confident rapper. When he got home, he was still sulky about the whole thing, even if you apologized and promised not to call him that again. Yeah the members ruined it for him. But when you called him papi one day, he realized that’s the most arousing thing you ever called him.

Jacob:

Anyone could’ve guessed that Jacob had a slight daddy kink. It was so subtle though. You two had been good to not share too much of your sex life - it was private after all but it just slipped out one night when you were staying over the dorm. Usually you’d say without thinking and this time was no different. It was a pet name to you, even if it made his blood boil in lust. You thought his kink was kind of cute, and also you liked how his tongue rolled when he called you babygirl.

So when you stood up from the couch as he and the rest of the maknae line played FIFA with a weird intensity, your tired brain didn’t think to censor yourself when you said, “Daddy, I’m tired. I’m going to head to bed.”

With a kiss to his temple and one last squeeze to his muscled arm, you bid the others goodnight, oblivious to the looks thrown at your back.

The door closed behind you and chaos erupted in the living room as the others had too many questions for Jacob. He sat, rubbing the back of his neck while his teeth chewed his bottom lip. He would rather them not know about his kinks, but he knew you didn’t do it on purpose. You had been hella tired all day and it was a natural thing for you to say. He wasn’t upset with you, but it did arouse him just a bit to hear you say it in front of the others like that. Either way, he wouldn't really mind/didn't honestly care since it was an accident. He would let it go this time but if it happened again, you were in for punishment - and it would not be pleasant.

Later that night, when they were done poking fun at him and he was done entertaining their shit, he would wake you up with soft kisses, the exact opposite of his bruising grip parting your thighs. “Wake up, baby girl...Daddy needs some attention. Can you be a good girl for me?”

Lou:

Hosung’s voice was your favorite thing in the world. Being honest, it was the thing that attracted you to him in the first place. The way his voice could go deeper than it was normally, and made your insides turn to molten lava, heating the blood in your body made you crazy.

He didn’t even need to touch you to get you wet and it was soooo frustrating. Especially when he figured out his voice was your one true kryptonite. He used it to every advantage he could. In public when he knew there was no way you could avoid him leaning over to whisper dirty things in your ear, when you were driving, when you were miles away from him at work and just about every time he wanted you sexually frustrated.

Fed up with being teased so mercilessly, you did some experimenting to find out some dirt on him. It took a few history searches for you to find something. One day, when the members were finishing up practice for the night, you showed up to accompany Lou home.

He smiled and went over to greet you when you tippy-toed and kissed him sweetly. He pulled back after a minute, hands on your hips and a cocky smile.

“Can’t resist me for a minute, can you?” He teased, that damn voice of his thick like honey.

“I can never resist you, daddy,” you smiled innocently, tugging on his belt loops so you could feel his front on you once again. This was your first time calling him that title and you hoped your snooping was worth it.

His reaction was instant and just what you wanted - his dark pupils blown wide, narrowing on you like you were his prey and his fingers tightened their grip on your waist, yanking you into the hard surface of his chest. You two were too wrapped up in each other that you hadn’t notice the others make their way closer when you said with confidence, “Come home with me, daddy.”

The loud gagging caught your attention and you hid your face in Lou’s chest when you realized all six of them had bare witness to your dirty talk. Hosung smoothed down your hair before shrugging away their howling and banter, “What can I say? I’m daddy material.”

“Oh god, stop talking and take your nasty asses home.”

Ziu:

When you met Heejun, nothing in your mind told you that he would be into being called daddy. It did make sense when you thought about it though. He was the maknae, although he damn sure didn’t look it, and had no position of power or dominance in the group dynamic. It’s only logical that he’d want some kind of dominate role in the bedroom and you didn’t have a problem with calling him that. Not when he would push into the wall and devour you like a starved man whenever the nickname slipped by your lips.

So, after a particularly difficult day at work and not having any kind of sexual release in two months since your schedules were so busy, you were beyond needy. Rough sex against the wall sounded heavenly right now so when you strolled into your apartment, tossing your heels and purse, you didn’t take notice of two pair of shoes that were not your boyfriend’s.

“Daddy!” You whined loudly when you didn’t see him in the living room. Removing your sheer stockings, you let your back fall on the couch before kicking them off you with a huff. “Daddy, please, come here and fuck me! I need you, today was terrible. I need your mouth on me, ugh-”

Your lips clamped shut when you lifted your head up as you heard footsteps coming from the kitchen. However, Ziu was in the back behind St. Van and Baron, who had blushes on their faces before grabbing their things and nearly tripping over themselves as they bolted out of the house.

You didn’t get to feel mortified for your words because the heated glare on your figure directed to you made your eyes turn to Heejun. His jaw was clenched just how you like it, arms crossed over his solid chest and head cocked to the side.

“You’re naughty as soon as you get in the door, huh? Get your ass on the ground, on your knees. You need to learn some manners.” He growled, fingers making quick work of his belt and jeans.

Honestly, you had no qualms about this punishment. He knew just what you needed to relieve the stress of the day but afterwards, one glance at his phone had him groaning and smashing his face in a pillow. Not after quickly typing out a text.

Asking him what was it, he just grunted and handed you the device. The messages were of the members group chat and they were blowing it up.

Is it true Heejun? Tell me this is a lie. It will ruin the pure image I have of Y/N - Lou

I heard it with my own ears even though I wish I didn’t - Baron

HEEEEJUNNNNN-IE YOU ARE A CHILDDDD STOP BEING SO KINKY - Ayno

My man! I’ve taught you well - Jacob

YA HORNY KIDS JFC LOL - Ayno

Dear God I need to wash my ears with soap - St. Van

I can’t believe it, our precious maknae is a man now! - Ace

We should celebrate - Jacob

Wtf is wrong with you lol - Lou

This is a historic day! Heejun-ie is probably laying the wood right now - Jacob

STOP OH GOD T-T - St. Van

The imagery in my head rn...smh - Baron

STOP THINKING ABOUT ME HAVING SEX - Me

Hmmm, you responded thirty minutes late - Ace

YeeeeAAAAaaaahhhhhHHHH what were you doing HUH YOUNG MAN? - Ayno

There’s no way Ziu is ever going to forget this. Not just cause the sex was fantastic either but because the members will not stop talking about how he was now a “man”. They clowned both of you though so he didn’t feel too bad since you were in this shit show with him.

#vav reaction #vav #vav scenarios #vav fluff #vav smut #dear god #i had way too much fun with this #this is why im going to hell #anyway hope you enjoy it #cause i enjoyed writing it #i'd like to point out #that any and all of vav could get it #front back and sideways #upside down #ok let me stop #please don't read the tags

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ghost-ghost-baby · 5 years

Text

Yandere reactions to someone who isn’t interested in soulmates.

a/n; I fuckin,,, actually love this idea,,, if y’all want me to do a part two or you want to see some different characters p l e a s e lemme know

Izuku

You’d gotten used to ignoring it, the string tied oh so nice around your pinky, meant to be connecting you to you ‘other half.’ It was bullshit, of course. You’d seen what people could do to their soulmates, and you wanted no part in that. You’d been just fine on your own so far, and were determined to continue with that, despite your string seeming to have less slack than you remembered.

Maybe you didn’t have the best schedule, buying groceries at eleven pm wasn’t the best decision you’d ever made. Still, here you were, scurrying towards your car, thinking about how warm your bed was-

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry!” You hissed, barely managing to save your bags as you tried to recover from running into… well whoever they were.

“It’s no problem! You look like you could use a hand” A light voice answered you, and you finally looked up into green eyes, the moon reflected back in them.

“Oh no, I’m good, really.” You shook your head, the surprise fading into a feeling you could only describe as wrong. You averted your eyes, glancing down at the bags you were carrying and- oh. Your string was pulled tight, glowing in the dim lighting and connecting right to the strangers finger.

“Look, uh..” You started, frowning when you realised you didn’t know his name.

“Izuku.”

“Right, yeah. Well I’m Y/n. Uh… Izuku, look, I’m really not uh, interested in the whole soulmate thing. Good luck finding someone, though.” You smiled, nodding before you turned away, fully intending to go to your car. Izuku had other plans, however, his blow to your head making you black out.

You groaned as you came to, headache flaring to life and reminding you of everything that had happened. Fucking soulmates. That Izuku sure did pack a punch, you had to admit. How strong was he? Speak of the devil and he appears. The man of the hour came through the door just at that moment, carrying a tray and wearing a somewhat sheepish smile. He took a seat on the bed, setting the tray down in front of you. You didn’t speak, looking at him with narrowed eyes. Izuku was attractive, that much was true, you’d probably go for him if not for this whole… situation.

“I’m really sorry about all this! But you’re my soulmate and you were just going to walk away! I couldn’t let you do that, I love you Y/n!” He burst out, green eyes shining as he leant closer to you. Cool, of course your soulmate was insane.

“Look, you barely know me, Izuku.” You kept your voice steady, ignoring how intense his eyes were, you really weren’t in the mood to get on his bad side.

“But I do, you’re my soulmate!”

“I don’t want a soulmate, Izuku. I’m peachy keen on my own.”

He got closer at that, crawling over your legs and far too close to sitting in your lap for your liking.

“No you’re not, you need me, Y/n. You’ll see how much you love me!”

Katsuki

The bracelet dug into your skin, it wasn’t painful, just uncomfortable enough to be annoying. It was better than the alternative, inked words covered up by leather. You hadn’t seen any soulmate pairings turn out well, your parents had fought constantly, and your best friends soulmate had cheated on her. So yeah, you really, really didn’t buy into it.

You were walking back to your dorm when it happened. You’d barely slept for the past week, classes and finals taking up all the time you had. College was, to put it nicely, kicking your entire ass. Coffee could only do so much, and you could swear you were seeing double as you walked. When was the last time you’d eaten? You really needed to get back to your room. Strong arms caught you as you started to fall, to exhausted to register anything but words whispered in your ear.

‘Fucking idiot, don’t worry. I’ve got you now.’

The words were still ringing in your head when you woke up, feeling more rested than you had in far too long. You managed to get yourself into a sitting position, rehearsing what you’d say to whoever came in. The bed was far too nice to be yours, black duvet and dark red sheets. You were foolishly calm, this would be easy to sort out, right? The door finally opened, and you kept your eyes down as you spoke.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe in soulmates”

“Yeah, I fuckin know, had that shit tattooed on me my whole life.” His voice was gruff, prompting you to look up at him. Well, he was much more attractive than you’d originally thought, that wasn’t going to make anything easier.

“Right, okay, guess we can just… go our separate ways?” You were hopeful now, he seemed to be pretty reasonable.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” His laugh was rough, as though you’d told a joke. He set a tray down on the table next to you, pressing a glass of water into your hands before you could protest.

“You can’t even take care of yourself, Y/n, how would you make it without me? Now, are you gonna be good and drink that water, or am I gonna have to make you.”

Shoto

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d worn shorts, or anything that fell above the knee, really. The reasoning was solid, a heliotrope flower bloomed on your thigh, petals coloured blue and white. Everyone had a mark, and when they found it’s match they’d find their soulmate. You’d rather focus on becoming a hero, however, thus you covered it up.

Training wasn’t even done, and your pants were ruined, one of the risks of training with Mina. The girl in question was running towards you, along with Ochaco. Sighing, you took in the state of your pants, Mina’s acid had successfully ruined them, well, almost all of them. You didn’t have a spare, so you merely ripped the ruined rags away, leaving you in shorts, with the damned mark standing out against your skin.

“Y/n! Is that your soulmark?” Mina finally reached you, Ochaco hot on her heels.

“It’s so pretty, why’d you cover it up?” The brunette asked, head tilted to the side.

“Oh uh, I was always more interested in being a hero! So soulmates aren’t really important to me, I need to focus on school!” You smiled, thankful that even Mina left it at that, and you could get back to training, not noticing dual coloured eyes fixed to your form, on a mark that matched their own exactly.

Shoto tried to respect your wishes, but you were close friends, and you were always there. And having you so close was just… too much for him. He knew he had to do something, he just… couldn’t stand not having you anymore, it was driving him insane.

Your hands were bound when you woke up, not tightly, but cuffs on your wrist connected to the headboard, the chain was too short for you to move off of the bed. A frown crossed your features as you tried to remember what happened, the last thing you could recall was Shoto inviting you over for tea, and now you were here.

“Shoto?” You called out, voice rough from sleep. The boy was there in an instant, pulling you close and smoothing his hand over your hair.

“It’s okay Y/n, it’s all going to be okay. You’ll come to see that this is for the best, okay? I promise.”

#yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere izuku x reader #yandere x reader #yandere izuku #yandere reactions #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere shoto x reader #yandere bakugo #yandere katsuki #bnha x reader #bnha yandere #bnha headcanons #izuku x reader #yandere shoto

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always-and-forever-a-killjoy · 4 years

Text

Good morning again, I’m back on my bullshit (again) and this time I’m here to drop yet more fluff on you. Yes this is a Christmas time fic, yes it’s July, mind your own fucking business.

Anyways! Have some fucking FLUFF.

Title: There Are So Many Special Things About You

Wordcount: 1530

Summary: It's Fun Ghoul's first Christmas in the Zones, and xe ends up getting roped into way more decoration than xe would really like. But xe also ends up with something that used to feel impossible to find: a family.

Warnings: None, surprisingly!

Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)

AO3 Link

(Actual fic under the cut)

Fun Ghoul didn’t know exactly why xe was at the radio station, but apparently the Fabulous Four’s presence was necessary that particular day. So Party Poison had bundled everyone into the Trans Am and sped through the desert (far too fast, of course, they never drove safely or sanely), and now they were all standing in the living room of Dr. Death Defying’s radio station, waiting for…something.

It turned out what they were waiting for was Dr. D himself, rolling into the room with a tired but fond smile as he addressed them. “Thanks for coming out on short notice- I really need someone to help Cherri with the decorating before he gets himself hurt. He loves Christmas, but I have to keep telling him ‘Cherri, you can’t just run around for days on end making the radio station fancy’. Not that he listens,” he added ruefully.

Ghoul mentally tried to add up the weeks and months since he had arrived at the desert, and concluded that it could reasonably be December or so. Xe didn’t think the killjoys would celebrate Christmas, but then again, most killjoys would take any opportunity for a celebration.

Meanwhile, Poison was shooting Dr. D one of their bright grins. “No problem, D. We’ve got Pepsi’s back, an’ I’m sure Pone will help.”

“Sure will,” Show Pony chirped as ey skated into the room, followed by Cherri Cola himself, who was looking rather ridiculous with his sleeves rolled up and the amount of hair already falling in his face. But he was smiling, brighter than what Ghoul thought was usual for him, and everyone seemed to take that as good enough.

“Hey guys!” He greeted them. “D said you came to help with the decoration, so I’m putting you to work of course.”

“‘Course you are,” Kobra Kid snorted.

Cola just laughed. “So we have these shitty plastic garlands, two strands of lights which mostly work, and an assorted lot of random ornaments. I’m thinking the garlands can go around the radio station, and then we’ll need something to put the rest on.”

“Oh no. Oh no, no, no,” Kobra said.

“So I’m getting us a massive tumbleweed!”

Pony cackled, and Ghoul almost started laughing xemself at the look on Kobra’s face.

“Last time we got a tumbleweed, I nearly died!”

Poison let out their own cackle of laughter. “It wasn’t ‘nearly dying’, dearest brother, it was just you getting tangled in a massive tumbleweed. But if it makes you feel better, this year I’ll go with Pepsi to get the tumbleweed.”

Kobra sulked as Ghoul snickered and Cola grinned. “Thanks, Poison! If the rest of you could get those lights untangled and start hanging garlands, that would be great.”

“Pepsi likes me best now,” Poison declared and walked out the front door before anyone could protest that.

“For the record, I like you all equally,” Cola told them before heading outside after Party. “Wait up, you need me to actually drive the truck!”

Dr. Death Defying chuckled. “Well, I’ll leave you all to the decorating, I’ve got some other things to do. Thank you again for helping out Cherri, I know he appreciates it as well.”

Fun Ghoul ended up helping Kobra detangle and test the varying mismatched lights that Cherri owned, as Jet sat on the floor and patiently sorted ornaments. Pony skated around figuring out where to hang the garlands. Jet was humming under their breath, presumably some sort of Christmas tune, and Pony yowled along, but other than that the room was silent. Strangely so, given the usual loudness of most all killjoys, but no one seemed to feel like breaking the companionable silence.

Well, that is, until NewsAGoGo showed up.

“What the fu- oh, Cola got out the decorations, didn’t he?”

“Uh. Yeah?” Ghoul offered.

“And let me guess, he took….” She scanned the room. “Party Poison to go get a massive tumbleweed that will fill half our living room and be covered in glitter by the time Pony is through with it.”

“Sure did, and it sure will,” Pony laughed.

“Fuck yeah. Anyways, what do y’all need help with?”

Ey gestured to Jet. “Jet’s sorting ornaments all on their own.”

“Great, scootch over.” She settled next to them as Pony kept skating around, and Kobra and Ghoul kept working on the lights.

Most of the lights ended up working, and Kobra was able to fix most of the ones that didn’t. Ghoul tried to pretend that xe wasn’t peering over his shoulder, curious about how some of the circuitry worked. Xe knew a fair bit about technology, enough to make a fairly passable bomb, but Kobra was just a bit better. Still, xe at least understood most of what he was doing, which seemed like a victory to xem. Jet, meanwhile, had moved on to helping Pony hang the garlands, much to eir delight.

By the time most of the garlands were up and all the lights worked again, Poison and Cola were back, tromping through the door with a ridiculously large tumbleweed.

“Merry Christmas, fuckers!” Party hollered.

Newsie took that as a chance to shout “Merry Christmas yourself, bastard!”

“I thought I said a small tumbleweed this year,” Dr. Death Defying sighed as he poked his head into the room again, ignoring Newsie and Party.

“It was the only one I could find,” Cola defended.

“The only one. In the patch you call the ‘tumbleweed zone’. Which is utterly filled with them. And where I know for a fact you were going.”

“Mhm. Yep. The only one.”

“I love you, you Christmas-loving dork,” Dr. D sighed.

“Love you too, D.”

Cola and Party navigated the ‘tree’ to one corner, where, as soon as they set it down, Kobra, Jet, and Pony instantly descended on it with decorations. Ghoul glanced at Dr. Death Defying, who gave xem a warm smile and tilted his head at the tumbleweed as if to say ‘go on’. So Ghoul, alongside Party, picked up the remaining ornaments and started decorating.

Xe found that only a few of the ‘ornaments’ appeared to have been originally intended for that purpose, while most of the rest were scraps of paper painted in bright colors or shards of glass with wire wrapped around them to form a little holder. They looked lovely regardless, twinkling in the lights on the tumbleweed ‘tree’ as if they were always meant to be there. They had clearly been made by the careful (and not-so-careful) hands of many killjoys, and now were being placed by even more hands.

Even Dr. Death Defying had joined in on the decoration, although he mostly held back until most all had been placed. Then, he wheeled up, removed one of the brackets from his wrist, and hung it front and center on the tumbleweed.

Ghoul glanced at the others in puzzlement as Cherri Cola stepped up and repeated the process, followed by Show Pony and then Newsie. Jet shot xem a smile, which was reassuring, but not all too informative.

“Here, go on,” Cola said, nodding to the Fab Four as Newsie stepped back.

Poison gave a very dramatic gasp, grinning. “Really, Pepsi?”

“Yes, really.”

“And your husband’s okay with it?”

“Yes, I am,” Dr. D said with a smile.

Poison stepped up and hung one of their strands of beads on the tumbleweed as Ghoul glanced confusedly at the rest of xyr crew.

“It’s an old Zones custom, for those who celebrate Christmas, anyways,” Jet told xem in a whisper as Kobra pulled a bracelet off his wrist. “Family members hang bad luck beads or other jewelry together as the last ornaments on a ‘tree’. So they essentially just invited us to be a part of their family.”

“Come on, Jet!” Poison was calling.

Jet Star offered Ghoul another reassuring smile and approached the tumbleweed, pulling off one of their strands of beads and hanging it by Poison and Kobra’s.

Finally, it was Ghoul’s turn, and xe felt weirdly nervous about such a small thing as xe fumbled with xyr bracelets. It took xem a moment, but he managed to retrieve the very first strand of bad luck beads xe had been given.

The tumbleweed pricked Ghoul’s fingertip as xe lowered the bracelet onto the branch with shaking hands, right in the middle of the rest. Xyr hands still refused to hold steady, and he almost knocked off what xe thought was Cherri’s bracelet as xe added xyr own.

Cherri gave xem his warm smile as xe fumbled to fix it, finally pulling back from the tree to see the rest’s reactions.

Pony was the first to move, swooping in to plant a kiss on each of Ghoul’s cheeks as Poison grinned at xem.

“Welcome to the family, asshole.”

Ghoul flipped them off. “Love you too, asshole.”

Xe found xemself being completely lifted off the ground by Jet’s hug, and Kobra gave xem a brief nod that seemed to convey roughly the same sentiment as Newsie ruffled xyr hair.

Dr. D just smiled fondly at them all and took Cherri’s hand. “Merry Christmas, you all.”

“Merry Christmas,” Cherri agreed softly.

“Merry Christmas, gay desert dads!”

#cherri cola #dr. death defying #fun ghoul #party poison #kobra kid #jet star #newsagogo #show pony #auri writes #danger days #ttlofk #danger days fic #i keep almost writing 'danger gays'#but you know that's accurate #yes it's july #why am I writing christmas fic? because fuck you #no not really i just wanted fluff

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illshowyourhurricanes · 4 years

Text

Rewind, Restart (Prequel)

Instead of a part 2 this time, y’all are getting a little look at pre-Part One. Here’s Billy Russo, a few days’ time since his escape, all tortured mind and finding himself in the middle of a dangerous situation.

Trigger warning: weaponry, mentions of death, fighting

Rating: PG-13/R

Word count: 2066

Hope you all enjoy! If you want to be added to or removed from my tag list, just shoot me an ask!

Taglist: @dylanobrusso @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @ms-delos @madamrogers @lexxierave @agent-bossypants @yannii04 @gollyderek @carlaangel86 @bicevans @maydayfigment @thisisparadisemylove @ladyofnaps @malionnes @thesandbeneathmytoes

He was haunted with images of skulls and blood.

Every night, it was the same. Whenever Billy managed to fall asleep, to quiet the torment and torture that burned and branded his mind, even his restful moments were stained with terror-- terror that Billy couldn't make sense of. And every single night, his reaction was the same: a scream, guttural, from a place so deeply rooted inside him, he sounded foreign to his own ears. His eyes, black as coal, flew open, wide and wild, his gaze darting back and forth in the darkness. Damp with sweat, shivering in fear, he was deafened save for the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his chest, yet the part that Billy despised more than the repetitive night terror itself was, night after night, the last realization that hit him. His face-- ugly, disfigured, permanently slashed with scars-- was streaked with tears.

There was a hammering in his head, a rush of adrenaline that had his chest heaving. Paranoid and delusional, his eyes searched the parameters of the room once more as Billy pushed himself up into a semi-upright position. His back was rod-straight, his ragged breathing the only sound in the otherwise stark silent room. Collapsing back onto his pillows propped against the headboard, Billy struggled to steady himself momentarily, inhaling deeply, jaw flexing. He ran a hand over his face, fingertips brushing across thick, numbing scar tissue. It was a reminder; a realization; a reawakening of anger and self-loathing, anguish and absence, abandonment of his severed mind-- any trace of an answer condemned.

A sneer of contempt contorted his mangled face. Dropping his head into his hands, Billy cried without abandon, his body shaking, ransacked with sobs. Howling with torment and wretched in his agony, he abandoned his one perfected apathetic demeanor. He was an animal, a monster, a beast-- a vulgar, raging, impetuous abomination. Billy had lost everything he'd built from nothing and his stomach churned in disgust. He had returned to his birthright, had fallen to his roots. Billy Russo was a grunt, a gutter rat. He was cracking apart, shattering into splinters.

*** *** *** . ***

It was as if Billy was on autopilot. He walked purposefully along the streets of Brooklyn, his surroundings becoming more familiar with each block. Hands stuffed in the pockets of a worn coat, head covered by the hoodie he wore underneath, Billy found himself standing outside of the closest place he could ever call "home"- and it was gone. The Ray of Light Group Home had been bulldozed down. Apartments stood where housing had been, concrete poured and hardened over a lot that had served as a baseball diamond for generations of orphaned children.

There was little that he remembered, and less than a handful of his few, scrambled memories were tangible, concrete. One of those had a big part of Billy’s life that he didn’t necessarily want to remember, yet clung to in an effort to have some sense of self-- no matter how demeaning and lonely. And it no longer existed. It was a surprise, but when he laid eyes on what had been constructed, memory of the complex came back to him in a rush. It was familiar; he’d known before that Ray of Light was gone. There was an importance to the apartments, a reason he remembered them instead of things that were paramount: the company Anvil that he’d founded, his knowledge that Frank’s family would be killed staying tucked away without so much as a warning… what had happened to his face. But he remembered this structure, and he stared across the street at the rows of windows built into the brick exterior.

Time was a feeble thing, and Billy had no estimate of how long he stood still, just staring at his surroundings, his breath puffing out in small white clouds of smoke. Shoes scuffing over pavement caught his attention, his eyes searching through the darkness. Across the street, just outside of the housing development, Billy found the source of the sound. A dull, dim glow from the closest streetlight did just enough to illuminate two figures. The shorter of the two turned to leave and was roughly grabbed by the arm. The street lamp glinted off the blade of a knife.

Agile and silent, Billy darted across the street. His hand wrapped around the barrel of the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

"Hey!" he called out, coming to a stop no more than a foot from what seemed to be a confrontation. "Is there a problem here?"

He was unfazed by the knife gripped in the male's hand, but with one quick glance at you- the one person the blade was threatening- it was obvious the woman in question was affected. She was frozen in terror. A bitter laugh dripped from the mouth of the male as he sized up Billy. Contempt darkened his gaze as he looked back at the assailant, silently daring him to make a move.

"I don't know. Is there a problem, freak?"

Freak. In one quick motion, Billy drew his gun, cocking the hammer as he pointed it toward the knife-wielding asshole. Billy looked at him, wild-eyed and silently begging him to antagonize either himself or the woman, who had slowly crept behind him further. Seconds later, the aggressor withdrew his knife, jogging in the opposite direction.

Pocketing his gun, Billy turned to face her. "Please," she begged, voice shaking, "Don't hurt me."

He shook his head slightly, most of his face shadowed by his hoodie and with help from the angle of the streetlight. "Are you hurt?" He looked over the stranger with a quick sweep of his eyes, a quick check for any signs of blood or other signs of foul play.

She was visibly shaking, still struggling with the previous situation as well as with the knowledge that this man that appeared to care about her well-being had a gun and seemed quick to use it. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth, dry like sandpaper. Taking a few deep breaths, she tried to steady herself, yet felt as if she could crumple to the ground at any given moment.

"N..no," she managed finally. "No, he didn't have the time to hurt me. He asked me for the time, and I stopped to check and..." She trailed off, looking across the parking lot, toward the general direction Billy had come from. "And you appeared." Finally, she peered up at his face, seeing not much more than the dark shadow of scruff over his chin. "Thank you."

Standing still for a moment, Billy nodded in response. Instinct told him not to leave her alone just yet; that asshole could be hiding around the corner and neither of you would know the difference. He'd be much more keen to violence after being threatened and humiliated.

"You live nearby?" Before she could answer, he cleared his throat and quickly scanned the premises. "You should let me walk you the rest of the way," he suggested, glancing back down at her. Without a beat of consideration, she nodded her head vehemently. This stranger had just saved her from another stranger, one who had pulled a knife on her. Somehow, she had faith that his motives were not ill-intentioned.

He took a couple steps, slowing as she began to walk by his side. "I'm Billy," he volunteered, attempting to put her at ease. There hadn't been a shadow of recognition in her eyes at any point since Billy and his gun came to her rescue, and he was fully aware of that; it was the only reason he'd thought to offer his name. He'd seen the news. He knew he was a wanted man. He also knew that he looked nothing like the wanted man in the photo the media was using for identification.

"Hi, Billy," she said with a trace of a smile over her lips. "I'm Caroline... I live in this complex, so I won't be wasting too much more of your time."

Billy's jaw flexed. He had mixed feelings about his former group home; he recalled the deep-seated knowledge that his mother didn't want him, the fucked-up things he'd had to endure as a child in the system. But, Ray of Light had provided him with a place to stay, food on the table, childhood friends he'd made until he was out on his own. It was no coincidence that he didn’t keep in touch; in the end, it was always everyone for themselves. Yet, throughout the years-- save for his time in Kandahar and seemingly endless torturous bullshit months he'd spent in the Sacred Saints-- it was Ray of Light that he'd come to when he needed to find some kind of fucking solace--to breathe. Had he visited in the past three years? Nothing came to mind: it was just another small, insignificant memory that he couldn’t recall. There was a hole in his life, a hole of the last three years, that plagued him more than the myriad of terrible things that had certainly happened to him. At least with those, no matter how much they stung, he was aware.

"It's not a waste," Billy replied with a shrug, turning his attention to Caroline as the pair walked side-by-side. "I lived in this area as a kid. Couldn't sleep and ended up out here.”

Caroline nodded politely, her pace slowing as the two of you reached your building. "This is it," she said, pulling her keys from her bag. She hesitated for a moment, glancing down at her boot-clad feet before attempting to meet Billy's eyes. From what she could see, they were unnaturally dark. It was as if they were all pupil.

"Thank you, Billy." Her voice was earnest, and she made a conscious effort to not allow herself to be overcome by emotion. The night had been quite overwhelming. "I wish I could find a way to repay you, but there's nothing that matches the value of not being tossed in a dumpster down an otherwise unoccupied alleyway." She forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes; she didn’t have the energy. The knowledge that she very well could have ended up in that very situation-- instead of safely at home-- sent a shiver down her spine.

Billy flashed a hint of a smile, gesturing toward the door. His feet stayed planted where he stood.

"Go ahead inside," he suggested. Seeing this woman disappear inside safely would give him the go-ahead to leave with a clear conscience. A sudden flash of anger sliced through him. If he ever ran into the asshole that had tried to hurt her, he'd kill him.

"Caroline?" Billy called out. She stopped and turned just after opening the door. "Take care of yourself." Eyes lingering on her until she disappeared inside, Billy turned and walked away from that apartment complex, one he was all too familiar with, as clear as crystal in his mostly foggy mind. He’d spent a nice amount of time there… time with you. He continued to walk through the gridlocked streets, remembering your apartment number, the layout of your place, your name and your laugh and the way you bit your lip to try to stifle your moans and how it never worked… the way he’d walked out of your life without so much as a word.

He needed to see you. Maybe you could help him fit some of those jigsaw puzzle pieces back together, jog his memory, sort things into the right order, a timeline that he could eventually use to think in a more linear fashion. Billy needed his life back, years of his life that he’d spent doing terrible things, unspeakable things he couldn’t imagine himself doing. He thought about the disfigurement of his face, upper lip curling in disgust as the mental image of his scars glared ugly in his mind. He knew he didn’t deserve to be allowed inside, much less any type of assistance in anything where you were concerned. But you were the only thing he had once, and for the only time since he could remember, you had wanted him too. Billy had grown to accept the fact that he himself was the one person he needed. But now, after all that had happened, he was a wanted man, a fugitive, a name, a fractured mind, and a hideous face. Now, Billy Russo needed someone other than himself, and that person was you.

#rewind restart #prequel #s2 billy russo x reader #my writing

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janiedean · 5 years

Note

I really, really love your metas! In "Why a Jaime/Brienne Endgame in the Books Makes More Sense Than One Might Think, Based on Previous Works of GRRM's" you wrote, that you have endless reasons to assume that both, J and B, will survive the whole series - can you please name some? Aside from this mentioned meta I've only read an explantion of the weirwood dream, which can be interpreted in both ways. Or can you link a good meta that explains other reasons? Thank you very much!

hey!

first of all thank you so much, glad that you appreciate my rants. ;) that said, sure I can go in-depth. in order (btw @ginmo has written also some excellent meta about this, just check on her blog), and also counting the weirwood dream which I’ve ranted on at length in that specific meta:

now, the first thing is how grrm strategically placed these two in the narrative, in the sense that:

brienne has spent her life being passed for a joke and she desperately wants for someone to see her worth as a person and she’d about kill herself for the people who manage to get as far as to gain her trust/love, jaime has spent his life loving people without getting much in return and with that trust being used/abused/thrown away and everyone taking it for granted... and we’re assuming they’re not set up to be together when as stated grrm has written them as romantic from the first moment?

(also, jaime’s entire first chapter in asos is basically ‘I find brienne attractive but since I never considered that I could be attracted to anyone but cersei I can’t understand I’m attracted to her so I’ll stare at her and think she’s ugly all along even if I really am attracted to her. brienne’s issues are also rooted in the fact that no one sees her as attractive. jaime does. hmmm?)

both of them start from a miserable situation from which they’re finding their own way up, not down - jaime is more obvious but brienne is too because she starts at the point where she’s so starved for recognition she would die for someone who just was nice to her but didn’t really gaf about her and now she’s... well, becoming a knight because sure af that is happening, I’m sticking with the theory that the knighting is book canon too -, and if they both end up miserable or one of them does it doesn’t work;

both of their chapters have heavy foreshadowing concerning possible marriage/having children/finding love - jaime wants to father his kids and at some point resents that other men are husbands and fathers but not him because he was always the warrior and he doesn’t say it happily, brienne is half-glad her first betrothed died because she thinks she’s not suited to typical feminine things/to fit into a woman’s role in society but she’s also sad at thinking she will never have children, these two are going to get together very soon, and I’m supposed to think they’re set up for failure? k but I can respectfully disagree;

also, this goes back to that meta I wrote in which I said that grrm does not do grim for grim’s sake and he’s actually way less cruel than it seems, likes a good love story and has more than once finished his other books with satisfying resolutions to that kind of storyline, but adding to that: in comparison to whatever calvinist crap message hbo wanted to send, I have to inform y’all that grrm is a currently agnostic lapsed catholic and it’s exceedingly clear in the way he explores/deals with redemptive themes.

now, let me break the jb narrative for a moment to inform you of a few things that as an atheist born and raised in a 99% catholic country whose literature’s funding works are heavily based on catholic themes/on stories rooted in catholicism:

the ‘you need to die to be redeemed’ narrative is 100% bullshit according to catholic morals and on top of that it’s opened to anyone at any time;

like, the basic distinction between catholic and calvinist approaches to the topic (and I can’t believe I’m defending catholicism but nvm that) is that calvinism preys on a narrative where your negative qualities define you and you cannot escape them (which is because calvinism accepts predestination ie the idea that seeing your lot in life you can deduce if you’ll go to heaven or hell, so if you’re poor/unsuccessful/you committed mistakes/a crime and so on you’re not redeemable and it’s proof you’re damned) and that meant that in societies with calvinist background the death = redemption narrative is extremely popular because it’s seen as ‘hey this person is wretched and they suck so they couldn’t have lived anyway and they did something good with it for once and it’s the best they could hope for’. catholicism, at the contrary, works on the basis that as we all have free will we can change for the better and if you repent for your sins/past wrongdoings/mistakes then that’s enough to be redeemed and if you do it on your deathbed.... you can still go to heaven, you’ll just have to atone for your wrongdoings (that’s the entire point of purgatory’s existence ie making people who repented near death or too late to gain heaven atone for their sins before they can enter heaven). and the moment you repent then you’re free to start your new life and do better and gain your place in heaven, which you’ll obtain in virtue of having turned a new leaf;

(again: not to be that person, but in luke’s gospel one of the two thieves crucified with him is like ‘can you save us since you’re the son of god’, the other thief is like ‘please he has done nothing and we have sinned we don’t deserve to be saved just please remember us when you go back to your father’ and jesus tells the second thief I won’t need to remember you because you’ll sit at my right. also, in dante’s divine comedy there’s a guy who had been excommunicated in the middle ages waiting to get into purgatory for having repented on his deathbed and in manzoni’s the betrothed ie italy’s funding novel the character who’s objectively better written is a dude so heinous for his crimes that he’s called THE UNNAMED and the moment this guy gets doubts and wonders if there’s any hope for him left the local arcibishop leaves everything saying that the moment someone like that is in need then they’re more important than his own parish, goes to receive unnamed guy, tells him that just wanting to be better is enough as far as god is concerned and he’s saved as far as he cares. like, as much as catholicism sucks for the entire rest of it and for how much the catholic church is the worst ideologically the fact that everyone can be redeemed is the basic staple of the entire thing.)

now, given the ^^^, this is where I tell you that most lapsed catholics/people who left catholicism for whichever reasons usually grew up catholic and if you grow up catholic you spend your first twelve years in church at least and if your parents/people around you are also catholic you will absorb it, good and bad, so if grrm grew up catholic, he grew up with that background. (I could again rant for hours about how atheist writers who grew up catholic differ from atheist writers who grew up protestant/calvinist because if you compare grrm and idk kurt vonnegut it’s glaring but this isn’t the place for it so nvm let’s go on)

now that I’ve told you this, I’ll get back to jaime and brienne’s canon survival chances. I needed to tell you that because...

all of the stories with redemptive themes in asoiaf (jaime, theon, sandor, whoever) are not by nature calvinist. whatever d&d think or hbo thought, none of them are written in a way where death is their best option/their only way to achieve redemption/to finish their story with dignity. theon has gone through hell and back and left and regained his sense of identity, he’s not built to die now, sandor has freaking gone to rehab and I’m 100% sure he survives the series and gets closure, while jaime is exactly a poster child for the above stuff I described. like, jaime is someone who’s fundamentally good who had the misfortune to spend his entire life jumping in different kinds of abusive situation one to the other (tywin’s parentage in general, his relationship with cersei throughout at least from the moment they were *experimenting* and like hell I’m going back on that sorry not sorry, guarding aerys, being with cersei at *her* terms and being forced to relieve his trauma all over and not having his needs met etc., tywin potentially ruining his only healthy relationship [with tyrion] and so on) who in turn has done exceedingly bad things/taken bad decision/committed heinous deeds that he regrets having done out of his bad reaction to all of that, not treating his ptsd and basically deciding to stop giving a fuck and embrace being the horrid person everyone thinks he is... until he meets brienne, remembers who he wanted to be because she’s posing an example of it and decides on his own to try and be better, which is... exactly... the entire fucking point. the moment he decides to try and be better and reclaims his dreams/the person he wanted to be/tries to do good he has automatically achieved a narrative status where he chose to be better and therefore the narrative is giving him a chance to be that, and usually those stories are meant to.... have the message that you can be better than the bad things you did and you can turn back the page at any point. like. jaime is written to show you that it’s not too late to get your shit together and not letting others/your surroundings define who you are;

on the other side, brienne is presented as extremely sympathetic from the beginning. also, grrm is very good at describing how shitty is your life if you grow up a woman who is not standard attractive, that everyone laughs at and who has endless insecurities for it.... and she’s the paragon of knighthood/everything good about chivalry in the goddamned series. brienne is legit one of the best people in these books and it’s not because I stan her - she’s kind, she’s just, she’s brave she’s everything a knight should be, she’s willing to change her mind when she misjudged people, she’s forgiving and life threw her crap all along and she’s still persevering from it. brienne is written in a frankly painfully objective way to eventually succeed at what she wants. if in affc she’s crying because she feels like she’s too much of a freak to be her father’s heir and she’s not woman or man enough for anything, the entire narrative point is that she has to succeed at both being a knight and a lady otherwise grrm can’t plant hints and believe me he can;

this means that jaime is headed on a redemptive path which in that kind of story when written by catholics or former catholics never ends up badly (also, aside: redemption is good for everyone and it can’t be just ONE character having it, you don’t buy it at the supermarket, so saying that if jaime has it then tyrion or theon or sandor or whoever can’t have it is just poor reading, people change all the time irl and in narrative you aren’t obligated to redeem one and kill everyone else) or in death, brienne has been written to succeed in her endeavors after she suffers a shitton and I think stoneheart has to be the worst and the end of it (in the sense that after that situation is resolved the way for her is down, not up). which if I do the math and we have stated they’re headed for romance, means the both of them should have a chance at a future together;

also, I can go and tell you that their asos road trip ending with harrenhal is bursting with symbolism that includes death and rebirth - not going into the weirwood dream and sticking to the basics... guys, jaime starts as a prisoner, then ends up losing a part of herself he thinks define him but in truth only defines what he thinks he is (and he’s not ie cersei’s double, the kingslayer, the person who has to drive himself crazy to protect everyone else), then ends up almost dying and sitting in the middle of his own filth for the entirety of the trip (and even then he does good things ie saving brienne from being raped *cough*) and then ends up in a scalding hot bath where he confesses his most well-kept secret and source of 50% of his trauma to someone he trusts regardless of how much he likes it or not, faints and then wakes up again when everyone thinks he might be dead. symbolically, I think it speaks for itself. thing is, during the entire thing *brienne* is there alongside him and while she’s also getting her own share of trauma/ptsd (I mean brienne has totally bloody mummers related ptsd and I’ll die on that hill) she physically is the reason he survives it - she cleans him up, she gives him enough pep talks to convince him to live, she hears his confession, she changes her mind about him for it (but imvho she had after he saved her from being raped because that’s where she calls him ser for the first time) and she catches him in the bath when he faints which is.... fairly symbolic in itself, and she is the one who puts him back on his feet after. like, while jaime’s choices after are all his own, his symbolic journey through his own physical/mental filth he has to go through during asos succeeds because she helped him even if she didn’t know she was doing it, and like... guys, there’s a reason why in the weirwood dream the brienne in jaime’s head which he has conjured and who is basically what jaime sees brienne as in that moment, not necessarily the real one..... keeps on telling him all the time she’ll keep him safe/protect him and she basically tells that to anyone he feels threatened by (or his subconscious feels threatened by), and as stated before, jaime lannister has never, until that point, assumed that *he* would be in the position where someone else gives a shit about him to the point where they will defend him rather than in the position where *he* is the person that has to protect everyone else regardless of how much appreciation he gets in return. like, excuse me but if I was writing my own book I wouldn’t put this much work and care and this symbolism in these two’s history if I meant to kill one of them off or to not have them be happy in the end.

like, the point is: grrm is an extremely meticulous writer with an astonishing attention to detail and who put in book two shit that made extra sense when reading book FIVE, see theon saying he wouldn’t go to his death wearing dirty clothing in acok which makes you go like ‘....... why’ the moment you read his adwd chapters. no one, unless they have a penchant for sadism, would put that much work with those themes in that specific kind of story if then it doesn’t deliver. or, in different words, using a character I love as well so no one can accuse me of being impartial: when grrm put the same kind of work in catelyn’s chapters from got to asos and then you read them knowing about lady stoneheart and the red wedding, it’s obvious that he built her up for being an extremely tragic character and that she was destined to die regardless of all her efforts to save her family (same for robb but we’re talking pov characters). but catelyn’s storyline doesn’t have redemptive themes. it’s about regret, loss, loving your children but being imperfect/not being able to be there for them, and so on. catelyn’s storyline never promises you a happy ending from the moment ned dies and probably even before then. catelyn’s storyline promises you endless suffering and that’s fine because that’s her point in the narrative.

on the contrary, brienne’s tells you ‘hey there’s this girl who has had it like shit all her life without deserving it and whose worth no one sees because she’s ugly and who at the same time is actually a genuinely good person who’s trying her best and okay, she’s gonna suffer but she’ll come out on top while getting what she wants which is recognition as both a lady and a knight’ and given that brienne is also an extremely rare rep (say what you want, cishet unattractive women with her issues and her backstory are basically only less rare than unicorns in media) that I’m 100% sure grrm knows speaks to a lot of people (because he writes her too well to not know), if brienne doesn’t get that after all that shit, the narrative would not deliver on a fairly huge promise.

even worse, jaime’s tells you ‘hey there’s this guy who has been an abuse victim to at least three different people who doesn’t even realize it and whose life is so fucked up you’d need fifteen psychology textbooks to even start grasping it and that everyone sees as the worst person ever and who has ended up believing he is out of not managing his trauma well and hey look at him going through an insane amount of extra suffering but coming out of it wanting to be better and sort of succeeding and hey he has setbacks but he’s starting to see himself as his own person and he’s out of his #1 worst abusive relationship and he can decide what to do with his life now and you should root for him’, which means that if he dies or worst of all dies like in the show (but that’s not happening) the narrative doesn’t deliver on a huge promise and gives you the message that you can’t escape your mistakes and the abuse you received...... which is not the message grrm likes/wants to pass. like, I’ll die on that damned hill.

and to finish it, that was for them as single characters, but going back to the beginning: love is a fundamental part of both their storylines. as I said in the beginning, brienne suffered because she wasn’t loved enough and would die for anyone she loves herself without even expecting anything in return because she thinks no one will love her like that, jaime suffered because he loved too much without getting anything in return (or better, getting cersei’s abusive crap for his entire life) and he turned it into something toxic that’s not what he thinks it should be (he sees his and c’s relationship as the best thing ever where they’re soulmates because she sold him that narrative, but that’s not the kind of rship where you *turn your partner’s blows into kisses* which is actual text). at this point, the narrative is telling you ‘oh hey here’s two damaged people who actually would be very good together because their personalities match in that sense [as in, brienne would thrive with someone who loves her that much openly and finds her attractive and respects her for all that she is and jaime would thrive with someone who would appreciate that tenfold and who’d love him back just as much and who’d die for him - canon! -, and it wouldn’t be the kind of rship where anyone’s blows turn into kisses unless they were friendly sparring before] and oh hey look at that they’re in a storyline where they both influence each other greatly and oh wait he’s attracted to her and she thinks he looks like half a god and she’d die for him and he was willing to get mauled by a bear for her and they’re obviously meant to hook up’, which automatically promises a resolution where they both get what they want or you basically spent all your time rooting for it.... for nothing. which would not give anyone reading it satisfaction unless you hate jb that much, but I’m 100% sure that most people reading asoiaf casually would not hate it that much and grrm likes that trope that much to not deliver on it.

so, tldr: if one of them dies or if they aren’t endgame with a reasonable happy-ish ending for the both of them, the entire narrative fails to deliver on the promises of their individual storylines and their shared one, and there’s nothing in grrm’s writing that suggests that he would not deliver on it. I mean, if it was stephen king I’d hold my breath because I love steve but imvho his endings suck 85% of the time and he manages to do 180° turnarounds that have no sense whatsoever, but it’s grrm, not stephen king, and everything of his I’ve read that actually had an ending ended in a way that was coherent with the overall storyline and maintained its promises, so here, the above is pretty much the summary. hopefully I haven’t exhausted you. ;)

#jaime x brienne #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf meta #janie writes meta #sorry for the lack of quotes but I'm on limited internet and I wrote this offline ops #long post for ts #abuse cw #anti-lannincest #anti-jaime x cersei #Anonymous #ask post

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aseriesofunfortunatetexts · 4 years

Text

Fic snippet time! We never got around to fawning over Dewey, did we? A gross oversight. Y’all remember this? This takes place a few scenes after.

You find yourself in a small room, its walls lined with drawers, and its doors adorned with the same symbol that graces your left ankle. The sight of it fills you with a sense of ease you haven’t felt since leaving the Mortmain Mountains.

A large desk takes up most of the space, a single thing lying on its surface; your file from the VFD, open on the first page. You’ve never actually read it yourself, and you’re tempted to take the opportunity, but before you get the chance the door to your left opens, and the third Denouement brother steps through it.

You take back what you said about Ernest looking friendly and open right from the start. Dewey’s smile when he sees you is stunningly bright, and his eyes are glinting with pleasure, as if just meeting you is enough to excite him. You find yourself smiling quite stupidly in return, and you can just imagine what Frank would have to say about that.

“You must be my new apprentice,” Dewey says, holding out his hand. “I’m Dewey Denouement. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you say, grasping his hand. His grip is firm, his fingertips ever so slightly calloused, no doubt from handling books all day long. “I mean, it’s an honor, really.”

Dewey lets out a chuckle. “I assure you, I’m not that special. At least not as special as you might have been led to believe.”

‘I’ll be the judge of that’ you think to yourself. Out loud, you tell him, “You’re the finest librarian our organization has to offer.”

Dewey smiles broadly at your praise, the slightest hint of a blush lighting up his cheeks. “I try my hardest,” he says. “Although I’ve never had an apprentice before, so you’ll have to excuse me if I do it wrong.”

“That’s okay, I’ve never been a librarian’s apprentice before,” you joke, too late realizing how silly that sounds. And your tone was borderline flirtatious too, this is outrageous.

“Meaning you don’t know what to expect, or that you’re willing to put up with anything?” Dewey asks playfully.

“Probably a bit of both,” you admit. “Although I imagine we’ll get a hang of it easily enough.”

“That’s what I’m hoping,” Dewey says. He gestures at the door he just came from. “Allow me to show you around.”

He leads you into what turns out to be part of the VFD tunnel network, which brings you the same feeling of comfort as the insignia on the doors. You read all the signs as your move past them, smiling at the familiar names.

You reach a pair of double doors by the end of one tunnel branch, and Dewey throws them open with a noticeable level of theatricality. You get why once you enter.

The library is gorgeous. And huge. Dozens upon dozens of bookshelves are visible from just where you’re standing, so tall that they tower over you. You walk further into the room, noting that it’s several stories tall, with walkways on every level to allow you access to all the books along the outer walls. The place is softly lit by golden light from several lamps, but there’s a rippling blue light coming from above as well. You crane your neck back and discover that you’re currently standing under the pond that you saw outside the hotel. The slight blueish glow lends the room an ethereal quality.

You make your way further inside, passing desks with comfy-looking chairs standing by them, finally reaching a fireplace, in front of which stands two very large padded armchairs with reading lamps on small tables by their side. Above the fireplace hangs a painted portrait of a Denouement sitting in the small office you were in earlier.

“You, I presume?” you ask Dewey, gesturing at the painting.

“Indeed. Although the painter thought it was Ernest he was painting.”

“Of course.” You continue looking this way and that, itching to explore.

“You can snoop all you want to,” Dewey tells you in an amused tone of voice. “There’s lots to see, and you will be working here, it’s given that you’ll have to know where everything is.”

You smile at him and do as you’re bidden, continuing deeper into the library, Dewey trailing behind you at a respectful distance. You notice several little reading nooks, all of them containing two chairs. That’s a bit odd, considering that Dewey works alone down here. Sad, somehow.

You reach a closed set of doors and throw a glance over your shoulder to confirm that you’re allowed to enter. Dewey nods at you, looking like he can’t wait to see your reaction to what’s inside.

It’s a movie theatre. The screen covers the entire wall, and there are a dozen chairs in green velvet in front. “You watch a lot of movies?” you ask.

“For work, mostly,” Dewey replies. A lot of debriefings are sent to me in the form of recorded films, I transcribe them for posterity. Film erodes over the years, as I’m sure you know. I’m also a great fan of Sebald’s work.”

You laugh. “For the artistic value?”

Dewey grins mischievously. “Don’t write them off as simply a mode of communication.”

“I guess I never saw them as anything else,” you confess.

“You should. There’s much to be gained from studying modern cinema.”

“You’ll have to show me some films then,” you say.

Dewey beams at you. “I’d be happy to.”

You don’t quite remember the last time you met a man who is so effortlessly likable and easy to get along with. It’s a damn shame that he has to spend his time down here, you imagine he would love spending time with people every day of his life, and they would love spending time with him.

“It’s amazing,” you tell him, mostly meaning the library. “I’m very much looking forward to spending time down here.”

“Don’t think it will be all lounging about, reading and watching movies. A librarian’s work can be tough, and it’s never finished.”

“I’m ready for whatever comes,” you say. “I managed my first day as a concierge all right, didn’t I? I never did that before either.”

“Is F working you hard already?” Dewey asks, half joking and half sympathetic.

“Not yet, but if I imagine he will be in the future.”

Dewey tilts his head. “Got off on the wrong foot, did you?”

You’re torn between being honest and being respectful of your new boss. You settle on something in between. “You might say that.”

“Frank isn’t entirely thrilled that you’re here, as I’m sure you’re aware,” Dewey says. “He thinks bringing other people in is a risk to my safety. And he isn’t in the business of hiding his disapproval.”

“I can sympathize with his concerns,” you begin, “But I have to believe that the VFD wouldn’t have sent me here unless they trusted in my discretion.”

“You should probably try telling him that,” Dewey suggests. “In those diplomatic terms.”

“How do you know I haven’t?” you ask.

“He was down here earlier,” Dewey says, and he doesn’t have to say anything else, you can imagine how it went.

“Right.” You sigh. “It’s important that we get along, I get that.”

“It’s for the best,” Dewey agrees. “Nothing good comes from having an antagonistic relationship with your boss.”

“Even if I have a perfect working relationship with my other bosses?”

Dewey lowers his chin and smiles. “You mean Ernest.”

You frown. “And you.”

“I am, aren’t I?” Dewey replies, looking like he only just realized that and is very pleased. “Your boss. I could ask you to do anything.”

You snort. “I have a feeling you won’t.”

“You’re a very trusting person,” Dewey asserts. “Which is why you should probably watch yourself a bit around Ernest. Just to be on the safe side.”

“What did Frank tell you exactly?” you ask, understanding full well how defensive you’re coming off.

Dewey chuckles to himself before answering, “Something about inappropriate, immature swooning.”

Your jaw drops. “That’s bullshit.” you insist, not caring about your crass choice of words. “I’ve been perfectly professional around him.”

Dewey obviously delights in your swearing. “A little defensive, aren’t we?”

“Defending yourself when you’re being unfairly attacked is an entirely warranted reaction,” you argue.

Dewey holds up with hands in an appeasing gesture. “A fair assessment. And don’t worry, I don’t believe F’s every word just because he’s my brother, I believe in forming my own opinions.”

Well, that’s a relief. “Thank you.”

“That’s enough chatter, I think, we should get to work. Or at least introduce you to it.”

You’re more than happy to put talk of Frank and Ernest behind you at the moment, so you nod. “I’d like that very much.”

“I’ve got plenty of incoming reports from associates all over the world coming in every day, they need to be read, categorized, and filed away correctly. That will be your main job on most nights. It can be tedious work, but it’s important to keep the library updated and functional.”

“Of course,” you say. “Show me where to begin.”

“I admire your attitude,” Dewey tells you, obviously pleased. “I think we’ll get along swimmingly.”

You assume you aren’t blushing, although you’re certainly smiling like an idiot. “I hope so too.”

#my fic #I want to get dicked down by the Denouements #can you tell how much I love this idiot?

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makeste · 5 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 240: PLIFF

Previously on BnHA: Shigaraki “Thanos” Tomura gleefully reduced an entire city to dust while laughing maniacally. You know, villain things. He almost turned Re-Destro to dust as well, but Re-Destro got around that by chopping off his own legs. Like it was no big. I still haven’t quite managed to process that yet. Anyway, so everyone was real impressed by Tomura at this point, because how could you not be, and to sum things up, Re-Destro basically accepted him as his lord and savior and handed the Meta Liberation Army over to him. So now Shigaraki Tomura, noted crazy person and heir to All for One’s empire, who has just upgraded his quirk so as to be able to destroy basically anything within an unknown range without even having to touch the thing directly, and who has also pledged to destroy the entire world, has an army. And he also has Gigantomachia, who was watching him all hearts-in-eyes while he did his thing. So all in all this has been a very productive arc for the League of Villains. And meanwhile, the League of Everyone Else may want to think about changing their name to “League of People About To Be Incredibly Fucking Screwed.”

Today on BnHA: The League of Villains, in what is clearly the best rebranding move since New Coke, renames itself the “Paranormal Liberation Front”, a.k.a. PLF, a.k.a. PLIFF because that’s what it instantly became in my head and you can’t stop me. Among PLIFF’s Finest is newly initiated member Hawks, whose mystery bag is finally confirmed to have contained exactly what we all thought it was going to contain. I don’t even want to talk about that. I’m still in denial. But also weirdly thrilled. I’m terrible. Anyway, so Hawks is all “:) we’re fucked,” agreeing with the consensus the general fandom has come to over the past week, and palling around with his new best friend Dabi as he frantically tries to come up with some kind of plan. Maybe the heroes can try rebranding themselves as “the Supernatural Emancipation Cavalry.” That wouldn’t really solve anything, but it’d be funny to watch the villains come to realize they’re being mocked. Sorry but y’all brought this on yourselves.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added a few ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

so I received an ask from a very kind anon warning me to be careful of spoilers for this chapter. thank you, anon! rest assured that I have been very cautious, and am pleased to inform everyone that I’m diving in spoiler-free this week. so bring on your Kacchan hero names, your Best Jeanist heads, your new Deku quirks, and whatever other twists you want to toss my way, manga. but especially that first one. this arc has been fantastic, but now that it’s wrapping up, I miss my kids and I would like to check in with them soon. they grow up so fast and time is precious

so apparently the title for this chapter is “Power”, which could mean lots of things, but I imagine it’s not something that bodes well for our heroes. honestly does anything bode well for them at this point. they’re not having much luck on the boding front

oh cool, a time jump! so this is apparently now one week after “the deadly battle.” wow, way to sum everything up in the blandest terms possible while still being accurate. like, yeah, that is what it was, but somehow it doesn’t quite communicate the full magnitude of what actually went down, you know?

anyway so the town basically looks like it got hit by a fucking meteor

new crack theory that a time-traveling Shigaraki Tomura is what actually killed the dinosaurs

wow would you fucking look at this

I guess this is the BnHA version of “an unfortunate training exercise”

also I like how they didn’t think it would be believable that one sleepy boi could cause all of this destruction, so they amped it up to twenty fucking guys instead. sob. why did they even bother giving Tomura an army. he is an army

lol the bullshit continues

“reporting to you live from Deika City, an innocent and wholesome country town in no way affiliated with an extreme right-wing quirk supremacist movement, where citizens recently found themselves victims of an entirely unprovoked attack by no fewer than twenty, and definitely more than six, villains. the brave citizens proceeded to fight them off, and definitely killed them all and didn’t surrender to them and elect their leader as their new god. also the president of Detnerat just happened to be there. just coincidentally. he definitely was not the one who instigated the entire thing. when asked for comment, Mr. Yotsubashi responded, quote, ‘nonsense, I’m no hero. would you call a man a hero just because he fought off an army of villains alone and selflessly sacrificed his own legs to ensure that justice prevailed? would you call that heroic? poppycosh. that’s just the kind of man I am. I wouldn’t call myself brave. ‘humble,’ maybe. ‘handsome’, perhaps. but a hero? no. I’m just an everyday, all-around good type of person, that’s all.’ so there you have it. truly a courageous figure. a gallant example of truly stellar fortitude and virtue. we need more Yotsubashi Rikiyas in these trying times. back to you, Jeff”

anyway, so the media in BnHA. fairly gullible, huh?

so now the report is concluding with a statement that the investigation is still ongoing. uh huh. damn they really got away scot-free with all this, huh

and we’re cutting to a close-up of sushi! oh my god. Compress have your dreams finally come true at last

yesssss oh my god. I’m so happy for him

(ETA: on my second read-through I paid attention to try to see whether or not Compress had finally gotten a new robot arm, but it’s impossible to tell. he’s only using his right hand here, and later on when he goes on stage with the rest of them he’s wearing his usual trenchcoat and gloves. I’m just gonna assume he finally got the upgrade he wanted, though. nice to see you so content, Mister I-Ran-Around-A-Lot.)

excuse me, what, Dabi? he didn’t even do anything?? as opposed to you, who basically just set yourself on fire and glared at Frogurt for half a dozen chapters?? don’t hurt yourself climbing back down from that high horse you punk

lol what

I don’t even have to scroll down to the rest of this page to immediately know this is some bullshit. she’s not dead. out of everyone in the League she’s probably third most important after Tomura and Mr. You-Didn’t-Even-Do-Anything above. her quirk is too plot-critical for her to actually be dead. you’re not gonna kill off the ONLY GIRL IN THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS, either. Horikoshi who do you even think you’re fooling

ah, yep

Togaaaaaaaaa omg. I’d hug you but you’d stab me. but I’m so happy to see you my precious baby girl

and it actually makes sense for Twice to be mourning the clone, though, and I’m glad they showed it. because he of all people understands that the clone is the person to at least some degree. like, it’s nice that he doesn’t just view them as disposable and he respects them. he’s so nice omfg

anyway so it looks like he’s back to being crazy though

oh well, it was nice while it lasted. at least he doesn’t appear traumatized anymore. and he has a boyfriend now too. where is Giran anyway

now fucking Skeptic is walking in like he’s on the set of a fucking sitcom

[canned audience laughter]

nice touch on the following page with Hanabata starting to refer to Re-Destro as “The Supreme...” before catching himself and amending it to just “Re-Destro”

oh wow

damn, LoV, y’all went from poverty straight to the .01%. talk about an upgrade

oh my god there’s a secret passage

oh my god it leads to a secret basement

trying not to think about the last time we were in a secret villain basement. this isn’t like that. relax. that arc is over now. deep breaths

holy shit

this is like the fucking Mines of Moria. complete with a Balrog. jesus christ

omg look who got himself a BRAND NEW SUIT AND TIE ENSEMBLE oh shiiit

is that a fucking fur-lined coat. Shigaraki Tomura has officially upgraded to KHR Villain status. what a little shit. I adore you, you son of a bitch

and I thought he destroyed all the hands?? come on dude, I know it’s like your signature look, but I was hoping we were going in a different direction from here on out. ah well

wow, Horikoshi

just once. just once I would like this man to leave a plothole unaddressed for more than one page. god I love this manga

anyway so they’re fully lampshading the fact that this one hand somehow miraculously survived, and they’re all “I guess it’s his trademark, huh?” yep, that’s right. his lewk. now be quiet, you two. which of us is doing the recap here

so now RD is up on stage showing off the weirdest fucking wheelchair I’ve ever seen, and singing Tomura’s praises

it’s remarkable how quickly his ego adapted to his brand new role as head of Tomura’s PR. he almost seems to be enjoying this more than when he was the leader

oh shit??

A NEW NAME?? oh my god. edge of my seat. can’t wait. take it away boys

LOOOOOOOL what

sob this makes it sound like they do ghost investigations. is there a League of Villains Buzzfeed Unsolved AU. this is what happens when you put the otaku in charge of the name

just. why paranormal. they thought it sounded cool?? and am I really supposed to type out PLF and not pronounce it like “pliff” in my head moving forward?? yeah, that’s not happening. you guys are now PLIFF. congratulations

thank god they’ve still got Tomura to lend legitimacy to this whole ridiculous operation. god, there’s something I never thought I’d say. Tomura why are you now the part of the League -- excuse me, PLIFF -- that I actually take the most seriously. god

y’all heard the man. whatever we want. this is happening. just remember kid, you gave me permission

holy shit you guys is that motherfucking Carvel!?!? I was staring at the panel all “WHO IS THIS” and wondering if they’d somehow brought Kizuki back to life, oh my god. I’m fucking dying send help. he looks like Galaxy Express 999. my brain is short-circuiting

anyway so everyone is all HOORAY WE LOVE THIS and they’re all cheering

HOMBGLKDF

DSLFKSHDLGK HEY BOY, HOW ARE YOU LIKING BEING A MEMBER OF THIS NEW HERE VILLAIN CULT. WHERE’S THE FUCKING BAG, HAWKS

SDFKSJDLFKSDLKFH A FLASHBACK AHHHHHH

I CAN’T TURN THE PAGE OH GOD NO SOMEBODY ELSE DO IT

OH MOTHERFUCKING SHIT

my jaw just. fucking. -- -----------

okay Hawks. fucking explain. how did you do it. is it a fake?? surely it’s not the real deal?? oh god, the memes have now become terribly real. I have no choice but to embrace this with even more stupid jokes and memes as a coping mechanism or I’m gonna lose it

but for real, they didn’t seriously do my boy Jeanist like that. Paramount Optimal Jeanist did not survive a point-blank attack from motherfucking All For One just to get shanked by Hawks so that he could get good with PLIFF, only to be, and I quote, “too late...!”

(ETA: and on readthrough #2, Dabi does indeed bring up the fact that this might not actually be Jeanist’s corpse. “setting aside the issue of whether he is who you say he is...” so even he acknowledges that shenanigans could be afoot.

but he seems convinced it’s a real body at the very least. though did it never occur to you that he could have just picked it up from the morgue, dude? that’s gonna be my go-to theory for now at any rate.)

is now a good time for me to bring up something I’ve been wondering about for a while, which is how Bakugou is going to take this? yes, Bakugou. “okay makeste, I know he’s your favorite and I know you miss him, but what kind of mental cartwheels are you doing in order to make this situation with Hawks and PLIFF somehow relate to Bakugou Katsuki, whom we last saw twenty fucking chapters ago, and who has absolutely nothing to do with this?”

well I’m glad you asked, and you see, it’s because (a) the internship, and (b) because we already know Katsuki blames himself for at least one hero’s downfall as a result of what happened in Kamino, and I could easily see him having a similar response to Best Jeanist’s injury and subsequent disappearance. like, we already know this shit is all over the news. and Bakugou knows Jeanist personally. and so now what with him being missing, I can’t help but wonder if he’ll blame himself again for being the reason Jeanist was there at Kamino, and lost a lung, and so forth

and I realize this tangent is coming sort of out of left field, but seeing as this arc is finally wrapping up, and we can expect to cut back to the U.A. kids again soon, I just figured I’d bring it up now, because we’ll see if I’m right or not shortly

anyway. so let’s get back on topic. best dead Jeanist. oh god

but it seems like it did, at least, finally convince Dabi of Hawks’s sincere villainous intentions. so we have that one minor win, I guess. congratulations Hawks, now you know about the secret villain basement and their new rebranding. was it worth it you bastard

oh shit. actually, maybe it was. because now he understands just how incredibly screwed they are sob

so he doesn’t know for sure about the Noumu yet. so Tomura still has that little ace up his sleeve. fucking great

but him knowing about the Detnerat thing is big, though. so now the heroes know not to trust any of their equipment, or any of their lackeys like fucking Slidin’ Go. that’s something, at least

and you gotta love the whole “equal to, if not greater than” bit, sob. never in my life have I ever seen something so egregiously understated. “Shigaraki might be more powerful than the heroes at this point” yeah, you think!? god

holy shit Re-Destro calm the fuck down

Tomura’s telling him to get lost, and he’s immediately making himself scarce lol. good riddance

and Tomura is now kneeling dramatically and pounding his fist on the floor. okay

hey

I take offense, sir. “League of Villains” had a timeless air about it. and more importantly, you couldn’t abbreviate it to the sound that someone makes when they plop down tiredly onto a couch

oh shit!!!!

THIS LAST PAGE HAD BETTER BE A TERRIFYING PANEL OF THE HIGH END NOUMUS, OMG. I’M HOLDING MY BREATH

GODDAMMIT IT’S JUST ANOTHER SEXY CLOSEUP OF TOMURA’S FACE

I mean, can you actually call it that at this point? can you actually “grant” something to someone if they already have more of it than they know what to do with?

but I mean, we know what he really means though, so fair enough

oh ffs now he’s saying “but first there’s something I’d like you to do for me” oh my god enough with these side quests!

he wants him to transport something, apparently. ARE YOU HATCHING SOME NEW SCHEME oh gosh

oh my god and meanwhile Hotwings is becoming canon right before our eyes holy shit

of course!! he’s fucking thrilled!! everything is just!! so great!! right now!! :)!!!!!

oh my god Hawks

“Endeavor, and everyone” I see what you did there kid

(ETA: and as far as I recall, Endeavor doesn’t even know about his undercover mission yet. I wonder how he’s going to react when he finds out. your adopted son is now best friends with your presumed-dead son! and in mortal danger omg.)

wow. wow. and that’s the end of the chapter. fucking shit

so! lots to process! Hawks really did it! the absolute madman!! and Dabi fucking loves him now, which is great, if you like things that inevitably end in tragedy. then that’s great for you. but otherwise I guess it’s not so great

so I wonder if our next arc will be the Undercover Hawks Antics arc, or if we’ll be getting back to Deku and the gang. I’m guessing the latter because it’s been a while, but it’s definitely exciting to see this particular plotline finally advancing and becoming more intricate

so basically I have no idea what to expect next week. which is amazing. I’m so fucking excited. now if Horikoshi could just leave us all a little pity disclaimer clarifying that no Jeanists were actually harmed in the making of this chapter and that it was all CGI or some shit, that would be great :/

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha 240 #best jeanist #hawks #shigaraki tomura #league of villains #excuse me -- pliff #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #so. hawks #like do you ever just straight up refuse to believe a guy is capable of murder #just because he's so handsome and charming #hawks: 'so anyway here's a bag with the remains of the man I killed inside'#me: 'nah you didn't kill anyone'#hawks: 'literally you saw me corner him in his apartment and draw a weapon and now I'm presenting you with a body and saying I did it'#me: 'nope. clearly there's some other explanation'#I'm joking but I'm also deadly serious lol #he's too soft. he pretends like he's not but he is!#mofo is out here feigning being all hardcore #but dammit we know the truth #anyways #rip to whoever's corpse that actually is #jeanist you punk I hope you're enjoying yourself wherever you are

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