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#idk man. i just can’t see it being done well. feels like a twist for the sake of a twist

daechwitatamic · 1 year

Text

VI. Don't Think About Him || KNJ

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love.

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

You try - and fail - to figure out who and what you want.

Section Warnings: excessive drinking, bar scenes, language, kissing, groping, maybe grinding idk

WC: 6k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sunday October 28th

Fire burns low in the hearth, but my feet itch and beg to go, into the night where the wolfpack hunts, into the storm of wind and snow.

I can hear only their hunting song. The blizzard steals from me my sight. I have no map to traverse this land, But I peer wistfully into the night.

The wolves, the storm, the wild land, Even still I must decide. I know despite the dangers, I can’t afford to stay inside.

“That’s fucking terrible,” you mutter, closing your book and scooting it away from you in disgust. “Wolves? Am I fourteen? For fuck’s sake.”

Still, it does touch on how you feel: like proceeding forward will result in you getting ripped to metaphorical shreds - but staying here, stuck in the familiar just because you’ve deemed it safe, would somehow be worse.

“Talking to yourself?” someone asks, and you jump with a shriek.

“Namjoon!” you scold, as you register that it’s him in the doorway. “I thought you weren’t home for a few more hours!”

He crosses the room and tosses his bag onto his bed. “Yoongi has a lead foot.”

“How was it?” you ask mildly.

Namjoon wiggles his head, indicating both good and bad. “The brewery was really fun,” he says. “And it was nice for us all to hang out and talk at the house. We all used to dorm together… it’s been weird not living in the same place as them. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”

This makes you smile. You’d been to that dorm once or twice, but you’d refused to hang out with Taehyung there because… well, dudes are stinky. And you’re not a clean freak by any means, but it was a little gross over there.

“Well it was lonely and boring here,” you report. “I’m glad you’re back.”

You’re instantly unsure if that was too forward, too much. Namjoon going away the literal day after you’d kissed him had given you plenty of time to think in private, but it had also given you room to sow doubts in your own mind. But Namjoon smiles shyly, pleased, so cute it makes your toes wiggle.

“I’m glad to be back too,” he says. “I’m gonna go shower and unpack. Have you made plans for dinner yet? We could order later?”

You hadn’t, but you have a feeling Taehyung will want to hang out after two days away. “I have plans,” you lie, figuring it will end up being true.

“Ah, no problem then,” Namjoon says easily, and heads into his room, closing the door behind him with a little wave.

You text Taehyung - “welcome home!! dinner later?” - and get up to start some laundry. By the time it’s done washing, and drying, and you’ve folded it, he still hasn’t answered.

You try again - “hello??? this is y/n, looking for signs of life???”

This time, the response is almost immediate.

[4:56 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: sorry [4:56 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: can’t tonight

In the end, you walk to campus alone, eating by yourself in the far corner of the cafeteria. You’ve splurged on ordering too much lately when these meals are built into your tuition. Besides, you don’t want Namjoon to know that your “plans” fell through.

Friday November 2nd

Angel on the right… Devil on the left…

You look side to side, conflicted. Such a strong case for each.

“Are those for tonight?”

You jump, spinning away from the two Halloween costumes you’ve laid out on your bed. It’s not like Namjoon to come over to your side of the apartment; in fact, you’re not sure he’s ever talked to you while you’re in your own room. It’s usually you going over to his door to bother him, if you aren't both in the living room or kitchen.

“Yeah,” you say. “I can’t decide. You’re coming?”

“I think we all are, except Yoongi,” Namjoon tells you. “I’m going as a detective. I have a magnifying glass and everything.”

You laugh. “I can’t wait to see that. Any thoughts on which way I should go tonight?” You mean the costumes. You’d texted Taehyung for his opinion and he’d returned with, “flip a coin”. You’re not sure why you expected anything else from him.

“I think that’s going to depend on your mood,” Namjoon teases. “How are we feeling today? Naughty or nice?”

You raise your eyebrows. Was that… outright flirtation? “What if I’m feeling both?” you ask.

He laughs. “You need one of those half-and-half costumes. I’ve seen them in the stores.”

You have too, but you think they’re cheesy. “I think I’ll go devil,” you muse, a finger on your lips as you consider. “The angel wings are pretty cumbersome. And the bars are going to be slammed.”

“Naughty it is.” Namjoon flashes you a grin and disappears from your doorway, throwing over his shoulder, “No complaints from me!”

You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the giggle. Well this is new, and damn, you want to keep playing.

You Uber together to the first bar of the town’s Halloween pub crawl, the guys waiting for you outside. Taehyung howls in laughter at Namjoon’s long coat, fedora, and magnifying glass.

“I see the devil won the coin toss,” he says to you, grinning.

You roll your eyes, still a little peeved that he couldn’t take anything seriously, even when you needed him to. This was a trivial thing, but still. It wasn’t a lot to ask.

Jungkook hands you and Namjoon a flyer with a QR code - it listed the locations of each bar and what time the group would move, in case you got lost or missed the exodus. Inside, you have to pay to get wristbanded, but the wristband earns you special prices at each of the stops.

“This does not go with my costume,” you pretend to pout, the bright yellow wristband glaring against your short, red dress.

“I think everyone will understand,” Namjoon teases. Taehyung appears on your other side, pointing out the little laminated sign that advertises this bar’s drink specials.

“You two need to catch up,” he insists.

Three hours and two bars later, you think you’ve achieved this. You and Taehyung cling to each other’s arms, holding each other up, somehow taking turns being the one who needs help staying upright. The first two bars had offered specials on shots, but this one only has special offers for mixed drinks and beer.

“Do we pay full price for shots, or do we let The Man tell us it’s time to settle down?” you muse loudly into Taehyung’s ear.

“Don’t start with that shit,” he tells you. “This is Halloween, not a hippie convention.”

“I see at least four hippies,” you sniff indignantly.

“I think you’re seeing double,” he counters. “No more shots for you.”

“You aren’t in charge of me!” you yell, and head for the bar at a clip, ankles crying for mercy in your heels. You grasp the bar in both hands when you get there, steady yourself, and then reach up to fix your horn headband, which had been starting to slide. You thought Taehyung was right behind you, but when you turn to look, he’s talking to a girl in a mermaid costume.

Of course.

It’s fine.

The bartender finally catches your eye and you flash your wristband, indicating you’ll take the special. He nods, turns and picks up a bottle. A body settles beside you; you turn, expecting that Taehyung caught up, or maybe Jungkook stopped by for a beer. Instead, a guy you’ve never seen before smiles at you.

He’s in scrubs, complete with a fake stethoscope (you think it’s fake, anyway) slung around his neck. His nametag reads Dr. Love. You laugh out loud. “That’s so corny,” you say, your filter well and gone for the night.

Luckily, he laughs too. “It’s sewed on!” he protests. “I honestly almost Sharpied it out, but I thought that would look even stupider.”

He’s really cute, you notice. He looks… clean. Older.

“You look…” he trails off, letting his eyes roam to your feet and back appreciatively, “phenomenal. Is there an angel wandering around here looking for you?”

You grin. “Just me.”

If Kim Taehyung can find a hookup everywhere he goes, why can’t you?

But as you lean against the bar and take a sip of your drink, your eyes scan the bar before you. In the mirrored wall behind the team of bartenders, you can see a slightly distorted view of the patrons and all of their costumes.

Your eye catches on a detective.

Namjoon’s eyes hold yours through the mirror, though he’s about six seats down from you. There’s a tiny smile on his lips as he sips at what looks like a beer. A smile that says maybe he should have expected this. It’s the same face he’s seen on you when Taehyung does exactly what he did tonight.

Beside you, Dr. Love is asking you something, but you don’t hear him at all. You don’t want to be here, in this spot, anymore. You want to be six seats over.

“I’m sorry,” you say, interrupting him, plastering a sickly-sweet smile on your face. “I just found one of my friends, and I’d lost them. Enjoy your night, though!”

You slip away before he can protest more than a syllable, before you can really register the disappointment on his face and feel guilty about it. Better luck next time, Doctor, you think, as you make your way to Namjoon.

As soon as you’re close enough he extends an arm, making a space for you right next to him. His arm tucks you closer, protective. He walks with you towards the far end of the bar, where it’s marginally less crowded. Once you settle into a spot there, he doesn’t remove his arm. His fingers rest on your bare, body-glittered shoulder, moving imperceptibly now and then, as if they have their own agenda.

“Are you having fun?” you ask him.

“Loud bars aren’t usually my thing,” he answers. “But the costumes are great.”

There’s a lot of alcohol in your system; your filter’s taken a hit. “I like this,” you sigh happily, closing your eyes for a second. You think you sway on your feet a little. The arm around your shoulders tightens.

“Like what?” His voice has gone deep, and you shiver a little. You want to kiss him again; you’d blame the shots but you’ve been thinking about it since it happened. The drinks just make it louder.

“Your arm around me,” you tell him honestly, and he ducks his head, dimples appearing along with a blush.

He shakes his head, still smiling. “You’re drunk,” he accuses playfully.

“It’s a Halloween pub crawl,” you point out flatly. “I’m supposed to be drunk.”

“That’s a fair point,” he allows. Then, he peers at you through squinted eyes. “Are you okay, though? How drunk are you?”

You consider this. “Drunk enough that I want to kiss you again, to hell with the consequences. Not too drunk to remember that there would be consequences.”

The playfulness leaves his face; it’s too obvious not to notice. “Consequences like what?”

It’s a challenge. He knows you know it.

“Namjoon,” you say, a little pleading. Don’t.

“Consequences like Taehyung would see?” he presses. His voice has gone hard. He’s tiptoed around this issue before, but it’s the first time either of you have ever really given it life.

You feel like you want to cry. “Are you mad? About Taehyung?”

He softens. His fingers brush your shoulder again, absently. “No,” he admits, deflated. “No, I guess I’m not. But we both know that’s what you meant.” He removes his arm from your shoulders. It hangs listlessly at his side. You feel its absence painfully, like it had kept you tethered and now you might float away.

“Hey,” you say sharply, and reach for his hand. You miss and get his wrist, but you hold it like your life depends on it. He looks at you curiously. “I like you,” you tell him firmly. “A lot. I’m trying not to mess everything up - with anyone. But he’s my family, and if I lose him…” You take a deep gulp of air, trying to will your pulse to calm, your stomach to settle, your eyes to clear of stupid tears. “I have no one left. It feels… delicate,” you finish finally. You need him to understand. You wish you were better at explaining.

Namjoon twists his wrist from your grasp gently, but takes your fingers in his. “What about me?” he asks, voice a little pouty. “We aren’t delicate?”

You smile at him, relief giving you more of a high than anything else could right now. “No,” you say, and touch his chest lightly, just over his beating heart. You brush your hand down his chest, drop it to your side, and turn to stare out at the crowd. “No,” you say again, finishing the thought. “You aren’t delicate at all. You’re steady. That’s something I really like about you.”

There’s a moment of silence that stretches between you, tension building like a bassline, and then he gives a tug to the hand he’s holding. You turn back to look at him.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he asks plaintively.

You open your mouth immediately to answer, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t think about him when you answer that,” he commands seriously, fingers clutching yours so tightly it almost hurts. “Don’t think about anything else but you and me. What do you want?”

What do you want?

“I…” you start feebly, unsure how you’ll even finish the sentence. “I want…”

Jimin rushes up to you, breathless, grabbing both of your arms. Namjoon drops your hand like it’s burned him. If Jimin notices, he doesn’t let on.

“We have to go,” he pants. “Literally right now. Jungkook hit on some huge guy’s girlfriend, it’s about to be a thing. Help me find everybody?”

“Where are they?” Namjoon asks, quickly setting his beer glass on the bar and reaching for your drink too. You let him take it, eyes wide.

“Taehyung grabbed Jungkook and ran - I think they’re outside. Have you seen Hobi? Or Jin?”

“Jin left with a girl two bars ago,” you supply, glad to be able to help.

“I see Hobi,” Namjoon says, craning his neck to scan the crowd. “I’ll go get him. Y/N, go with Jimin, we’ll meet up outside.”

He moves without waiting for an answer, wading through the crowd in what must be Hobi’s direction. Jimin takes you by the hand - it feels much different than it had felt a minute ago with Namjoon - and leads you through the crowd hurriedly, dodging people left and right. You look over your shoulder as he pulls you, trying to find Namjoon in the sea of people, but you can’t.

Outside, Jungkook seems to be arguing heatedly with the bouncer.

“Come on,” Taehyung is telling him, looking honestly pissed. “Let’s just go. The night’s already ruined, let’s just leave.”

You pull away from Jimin and head for Taehyung.

“Hey,” you say softly, resting a hand on his arm. He turns on you, still furious, but you don’t waver. “Take a breath,” you tell him softly.

His temper gets the best of him sometimes.

He shakes his head, angry, but you see his chest move as he obeys anyway. A second later he says, more calmly, “Come on, Jungkook, we can even go somewhere else if you want. We won’t have fun here, that guy’s friends are all worked up in there.”

Jungkook relents as Hobi and Namjoon join you on the sidewalk. You slide your hand off of Taehyung’s arm, feeling weirdly guilty.

“We rallying?” Hobi asks hopefully. “Or did we kill the buzz?”

“Rally!” Jimin cheers, going over and shaking a sullen Jungkook’s shoulder. “Come on! The night prevails!”

“I’ll go somewhere else,” Taehyung says.

“I think I’m done,” Namjoon says, glancing at his phone for the time. “I’ll Uber from here.”

“Y/N?” Taehyung asks, looking to you. For a second, you’re not sure why. Then you realize - you either have to Uber home with Namjoon, or opt to continue on with the rest of the guys.

The angel whispers that you haven’t hung out with Taehyung as much lately.

The devil whispers that you and Namjoon could be all alone.

0-2 for the angels tonight.

“I’m tired,” you say. “I’ll Uber with Namjoon. You guys have fun though. JK, try to keep it in your pants.”

He flips you off wordlessly, still sulking.

They all tell you goodbye, Taehyung giving you an extra-tight squeeze with his hug, and they walk down the block to find another bar. You turn to Namjoon, who’s tapping at his phone to order a ride.

What do you want? His question floats in your head.

You don’t know. You want too much, too many things, too many contradictions.

It seems like Namjoon knows, and forgives you. He silently holds out a hand, waiting. You take it, keeping it tight in yours, not letting go even as you slide into the backseat of the Uber, as it weaves through the neighborhoods until it stops in front of your building, as it drives away, leaving you lit in red taillights before vanishing around the corner.

You’re standing on the sidewalk in front of your building’s front door, Namjoon’s hand in yours, your eyes sleepy but your pulse racing.

He tugs you towards the stairs, and you think he’s going to lead you inside. Instead he spins you and presses you back against the stone balustrade, one hand splayed across the middle of your spine, the other cupping your jaw as he kisses you insistently.

You open immediately for him, giving a happy noise low in your throat. His spare hand, the one not holding you up off the rough stone below, grips the back of your neck for the barest of seconds before continuing down - rubbing patterns past your shoulder blade, the middle of your back, down to the dip of your waist, the swell of your hip, the meat of your ass. He’d better appreciate every curve, you squeezed into spanx for this dress.

You grip at the lapels of his ridiculous detective coat, the earth spinning in circles around you in a blur. You’re aware of only where your hands bunch the fabric, of only where his teeth and lips and tongue clash with yours, of only the fiery path his hand traces up and down your body. You melt into his touch, wanting more, trying to pull him closer, trying to get lost in each sensation.

He breaks the kiss to nip a line of sharp nibbles down your neck. You whine, trying to give him more room. His hands come to rest on your ribcage, thumbs not quite reaching your chest, which has to be a conscious decision on his part. You can feel the cold night air on your thighs; your dress has ridden up. This snaps you out of the moment a little.

“Namjoon,” you murmur, but it comes out a little whiny as he continues to nibble down near the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “We should go inside.”

He stills, then pulls away, eyes seeking yours for any signs of discontent. “Yeah,” he says finally, one syllable all he can handle. “Come on.”

He releases your body gently, letting you find your balance on the pavement. Then, he leads you up the stairs and inside. In the threshold of the apartment, you look at him, a question on your face.

“We’re both really drunk,” he says apologetically, reaching out to brush some stray hairs away from your face. “We should probably cool down a little.”

He’s right - you know he’s right.

“Yeah,” you say, letting the front door close behind you. “Okay.”

You press one palm against the wall for balance as you fight with your shoes, sliding them off one at a time.

Namjoon’s in his room, but the door hangs open. You pause in the doorway of your bedroom, realizing you have a problem.

“Um, hey,” you call across the living room, and he takes a few steps to come look at you. He’s lost the hat and the long coat, and his button-down is undone, revealing a tight, white undershirt beneath. “I promise this isn’t a come-on,” you say, biting back a smile. “But I legitimately can’t reach the zipper on this. Can you-?”

“Of course,” he says, crossing the living room. You turn your back to him, presenting the zipper. He gently sweeps your hair off of your nape and places it over your shoulder. You shiver, goosebumps rising along your arms, and you hear him hum a pleased noise at your reaction. You feel him fumble with the hook-and-eye at the top, and then the zipper sounds. He pauses halfway down your back.

“That good?” he checks. “You can reach that?”

“Yes,” you say, turning back to face him. He’s still got a bit of your lipstick on his mouth, and it makes you have to fight off a smirk. Down, girl. “Goodnight, Namjoon.”

He looks at you for a long minute, expression unreadable. Finally, he says, “Goodnight,” and steps back out into the darkness of the living room. When he gets to his room this time, he closes the door behind him with a soft click. You stare at the inch of light that comes from under his door for a minute before hurrying to close your own door against the dark.

Sunday November 4th

You spend most of Saturday in bed, heart and head both pounding, which means you have a lot of homework to cram in on Sunday.

After you shower and eat, you set up in the living room to get some work done. Namjoon’s door is halfway open, and you can hear the clacking and bass thumps that mean he’s writing in there.

Midafternoon, he appears in his doorway, stretching widely. Your eyes skim the inch of stomach exposed with the stretch and then flick back to your page before he can catch you.

“How’s it going?” he asks, heading into the kitchen.

You twist your mouth, eyeing your laptop and the text spread open on your lap. “I guess it’s going. Sort of.”

“What are you working on?” he asks.

“A paper for one of the bullshit general classes,” you tell him. “Which makes it more challenging, because I deeply do not care.”

He laughs at this, then plops onto the couch a few feet away from you, a water bottle in his hands.

“How about you?” you ask. “It sounded like it was going well.”

“It was going okay,” he agrees. “I reached the end of a scene, so now I need to like… process, look at what’s coming next. I might take a short walk and let it marinate in my brain a little.”

You smile. “How come you never work out here?” you ask him, just curious.

He gives a quick, self-deprecating laugh. “I wouldn’t get anything done. I’d just talk to you.”

You flush, feeling your face heat up, and bite back a smile. “What if I refused to answer?” you offer. “I could just sit here like -.” You mime zipping your lips, still fighting a smile. For good measure, you lock it up and throw the key over your shoulder.

His smile grows. “Wouldn’t help. I’d still be able to look at you.”

Your blush intensifies; you’re tempted to go stick your head in the freezer to cool your cheeks down. “I’ll turn around, then,” you tell him.

His grin turns wolfish. “I assure you, that will not solve the problem.”

Your jaw drops. “Kim Namjoon!” you scold, but you’re giggling.

“I’m just being honest!” he defends, laughing deeply, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Anyway, why? Does it bother you that I stay in there?”

“No,” you say immediately. “You can do what you want.”

He gives you a knowing look, like he’s used to your bullshit and isn’t falling for it. When did that happen? “Don’t get prickly,” he warns.

“Don’t compare me to plants,” you grumble.

“Do you want me to work out here instead?” he asks gently, smiling at you like you’re adorable, which just sets your prickliness off even more.

“I don’t know what I want,” you retort.

There’s a long, stretchy silence as you both consider just how true those words are, on several different levels.

Finally, Namjoon gives you a nod in goodbye and heads back to his room.

This time, he closes the door gently behind him.

–

Taehyung invites you out that night, to see a movie you’d been talking about. You tell him yes, as long as you can go to the earlier showing. But then you start to feel… guilty. Unsure.

You want to ask Namjoon if he cares if you hang out with Taehyung still. He’s bothered by some aspect of your friendship, obviously, but you don’t know what it is. Is it only the fact that Taehyung is a bit of a barrier for you two? Or is he threatened by the whole friendship?

You lay sideways across your bed in the fading late afternoon light, considering this. You imagine asking Namjoon. You think his answer would probably be, do what you want, I’m not your boyfriend.

Which, fair. That conversation needs to come first. Are you together, do either of you even really want that?

In the end, you don’t bring it up. When it’s time, you do your best to sneak out of the apartment, hoping to avoid any conversation about it at all.

Taehyung’s car idles on the street below, and you let yourself in the passenger side and buckle up. You’re anxious, you realize, as Taehyung starts complaining about an argument he had with Jimin back at their place. You’re afraid he’ll ask something that will lead the conversation to Namjoon, afraid that he’ll catch you tripping up, clue in that there’s something worth his attention there.

You can’t lie to him. He knows this as well as you do.

That’s why he never asks you questions he doesn’t really want the answers to.

You’re anxious for nothing, because Taehyung talks about his own shit for the whole drive to the movies, and the whole time you’re in line for snacks, and for the whole time before the movie starts as you sit in the back row of the theater munching on overpriced popcorn.

But the movie is good, and you get pulled into the fictional world, and when the lights come on you find Taehyung’s arm casually over the back of your seat. You hadn’t even noticed it was there.

“I can’t believe Jimin wouldn’t come see this,” Taehyung scoffs as you file out of the theater and back to the lobby. “That was so good! Just because he doesn’t like that one actor?”

You’re curious if Taehyung would have still asked you to join him tonight if Jimin hadn’t turned him down first.

But, like Taehyung, you don’t ask questions if you aren’t prepared to hear the truth. So you don’t ask. What would be the point?

You wonder during the drive home if you’d feel better talking to Taehyung about what was going on with you if the guy in question wasn’t his friend.

Maybe.

But only a little better.

Monday November 5th

Unlike the Monday before, Namjoon leaves for campus without you on Monday morning. You aren’t sure if he’s upset with you, or if he just needed to be there early. You’re too cowardly to ask.

You need some support.

If it’s not coming from your “best friend”, you’ll have to outsource.

You trudge through your morning class, eat as fast as you can - alone - in the cafeteria, and head to the student center. You get to the store well before your shift starts.

You aren’t allowed to clock in yet, so you kill some time doing reading for class in the stock room. The second your shift starts, you’re at the front registers, uncomfortably close to Kris’s personal bubble.

“Yes?” they ask you archly, eyeing your proximity suspiciously.

“I… have a confession to make,” you say, your voice as quiet as you can make it. You’re barely moving your mouth, you’re trying so hard to not actually say these words. “There… has been… perhaps… some kissing.”

Kris is stunned into silence for the first time since you’ve known them. Eyes wide and jaw slack, they stare at you. Then, they clarify loudly, “By you?”

You growl in exasperation. “Don’t be cute.”

Kris beams. “Can’t help it, it’s ingrained in my DNA.”

“I need you to be just a tiny bit serious,” you tell them, “because I am having a full-blown crisis.”

Kris sobers instantly. “Wait,” they whisper. “Crisis? Explain.”

“I kissed…” you cast your eyes around the bookstore, making sure no one’s lurking, “...the one I live with.”

Kris gasps. “You did not! You kissed him? Not the other way around?”

“I did,” you admit, feeling yourself flush again. “Twice. Well, the second time he started it, if you want to get technical.”

“I do want to get technical,” Kris whispers, voice almost reverent. “I can’t fucking believe this. So, why the crisis?”

You take a deep breath. Which factor to start with? Because you don’t want to give up on Taehyung yet? Because you don’t want to risk altering that friendship beyond repair? Because you don’t know if Namjoon will be able to handle your best friend being a guy - a guy that you’ve had feelings for?

“Because I don’t know what I want,” you say, the simplest truth. “I can’t get my head straight.”

Kris cocks their head. “If you didn’t know Taehyung - if you removed him completely from the situation -.”

“Impossible,” you protest.

They hold up a finger to silence you. “If you removed him from the situation,” they continue over you, “would you want to pursue things with Namjoon?”

Guilt hits you like an ocean wave, tugging you down, down, down. “Yes,” you whisper, because that part is just true. There’s no wiggle room, no if’s. You like him. You want to see where it will go. If there were no chance of losing Taehyung in the mix, it wouldn’t be a question at all.

“Y/N,” Kris says insistently, leaning towards you. “You are not doing anything wrong here. Taehyung is your friend. Nothing else - and that’s his fault. You aren’t, like, betraying him by catching feelings for someone else. He can’t expect you to sit around waiting for him until you die!”

“He doesn’t expect that,” you say, still in a whisper, because suddenly your throat is tight in that way it gets when you’re upset.

“You need to talk to Taehyung,” Kris tells you gently. You groan. “And the conversation should not be you asking for permission, either!” they continue, impassioned. “You need to tell him I’m seeing someone and you need to be okay with it.”

“But they’re friends,” you protest. “It’s so messy. I’ve never had messy before.”

“You’ve never had anything before,” Kris points out.

“That wasn’t nice,” you grumble. “Yes I have.”

“Nothing that mattered,” they correct. “Nothing with feelings.”

You slump onto the counter. “I hate this.”

“I’m telling you,” Kris says airily. “If you don’t talk to them, this is all going to blow up in your face. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too.”

“Why do you have to be right all the time,” you complain. Kris smiles beatifically.

When your shifts ends, your feet take you not towards home, but towards the academic building where Namjoon’s “office” is.

You’re thinking about your conversation about Kris; you’re thinking about the idea of fairness.

It isn’t fair, as Kris said, for Taehyung to expect you to wait indefinitely for something that was probably never coming, to hold you emotionally hostage.

It isn’t fair for you to do the same thing to Namjoon - to keep him waiting, wondering, unsure if you’ll ever be completely in it. You know that’s the reason things have kept progressing so slowly between you. You’ve felt guilty letting it get any further, felt afraid of those damn consequences. And if you had to bet, Namjoon has been trying to wait for you to sort it out, to make the choice - to choose him.

You can hear the low tones of his voice as you approach down the quiet hallway. Only the staff are normally back here, sometimes one or two students who need to speak to a professor, so there’s not a lot of foot traffic.

You linger in the hallway, leaning against the wall and messing around on your phone, far enough away to not be able to tell what Namjoon and the student are discussing. When the student - a young guy who looks absolutely dejected as he passes by you - exits, you slip past him and lean against the doorway. Namjoon doesn’t notice you right away. It’s clear that his hours have ended and he’s packing up his stuff. When he does notice a body in the doorway, he jumps, inhaling sharply in alarm.

He slumps against the back of the chair when he registers that it’s you.

“I’m usually the jumpy one,” you giggle.

He gives you a sideways smile as he leaves over his bag on the floor, messing with the clasp. “I didn’t expect to see anyone else. What are you - I mean, what’s up?”

“What am I doing here?” you tease, catching his slip. You feel a little nervous, but you’re determined to do this correctly, to treat him better. “I came to see if you wanted to walk back together.”

Namjoon goes a little still, and you hurry to add, “It’s okay if you don’t! It didn’t make my walk longer or anything to come here first. I just thought I’d check.”

He lets you babble. He does as he’s been doing since the beginning - he waits you out with a patient smile.

“So…” you finally finish, the nerves fluttering and hopping around your stomach. “Do you? Want to walk back with me?”

He stands, lifting his bag from the ground and hoisting it onto his shoulder. “Yes,” he says simply, giving you a tiny smile.

You follow him down the narrow hallway, back down the stairs you’d climbed a minute ago, and outside. It’s a nice day - bright and sunny, chilly but not freezing. Campus is busy, and you have to people-dodge a little as you cross the main section, the crossroads of the two main paths.

The second you cross through the front gate and step onto the city sidewalk on the other side, Namjoon silently reaches for your hand. It’s different from last time, in the rain - not urgent, not pulling. It’s gentle and tentative and, weirdly, somehow sensual the way his thumb runs over your knuckles as he glances sideways at you to see if you’re okay with this.

You give his fingers a tiny squeeze.

You walk together in silence for a few minutes, and then Namjoon asks you quietly. “How was your day? You had class this morning? Was it for Thesis?”

You smile up at him, happy to have someone to talk to about this. Kris would listen, you’re sure, because Kris is a good human, but they would much rather talk about romance. And Taehyung… it’s November, and Taehyung has asked you about your classes or your thesis exactly zero times.

“No, not for my thesis,” you tell him. “Just a regular lit class. It was okay! I was so tired, I could barely stay awake… I think I’m still recovering from the weekend.”

He laughs. “Can’t imagine why,” he teases, voice going a little deeper. “I’m sure you were a perfect angel all weekend long.”

The joke - that you’d dressed as a devil - is not lost on you, and you grin up at him. “Clever,” you say.

He beams back, proud. “Sometimes,” he allows.

“How about you?” you ask. “Did you have class before your TA hours?”

“Yep,” he says, nodding. “Unfortunately, it was a research-based class.”

You groan in sympathy. “First thing on a Monday morning? Fucking ouch.”

“Tell me about it,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m not much of a napper, but damn, I could use a nap.”

At the apartment, you decide to watch a show you’re in the middle of, and you settle on the couch with a throw-blanket over your legs. Namjoon appears in the doorway of his bedroom, looking at you a little balefully.

“Can I… do you mind if I read out here?” he asks.

You scramble to sit up a little making room on the other side of the couch. “You don’t need to ask,” you say, a little appalled that he’d felt the need. “You live here! I never mind, I promise.”

Appeased, he makes his way over and gets comfortable on the other side of the couch. It occurs to you that this is how you and Taehyung usually spend your time - on opposite ends of the couch - but you shove the thought away.

You glance at him now and then as your show plays, and a few times you think you catch him watching more than reading. In between episodes, you notice his book face-down on his chest, rising and falling in deep, even motions. His head leans back against the arm of the couch, and his eyelids flutter as he dreams.

Smiling a tiny smile, you fluff your blanket to cover his legs, and press play for the next episode.

<- Prev || Next ->

Thank you so much for being here!!!!! What did we think of what I lovingly call "the Halloween Pub Crawl Fiasco"?!

Section VII will drop on Friday, February 24th! I hope to see you there!!

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hypaalicious · 7 months

Text

Why I think Nocturne is way better than the OG Castlevania series

Sorry, when I try to shut up about this show I be like

so here’s my unsolicited, highly biased word vomit that will contain spoilers at the end (but those will be under a cut) so read at your own risk! Okay, leggo

It’s actually diverse.

One thing about high fantasy is that it’s almost always Eurocentric. Even if it’s not set in Europe, the characters are gonna inexplicably have British accents because we associate that with high fantasy. We’re gonna have European style “old” clothing choices. And if everyone isn’t white, they might as well be because they’ll only throw in a couple ambiguously brown side characters and call it a day. Or if they make a main character a POC then best believe everyone around them will be white.

Nocturne, tho? Oh, you can tell it’s made with more than just a sprinkle of representation. They didn’t just make Olrox indigenous, they tied his Aztec lineage in beautifully. Annette was a slave but it’s not flattening her character because of it. Drolta came to slay but even she has her authentic background. Which leads me to my next point!

The Black characters especially are done tastefully.

Like… don’t get me wrong. I love Isaac. He was the only reason I stayed tuned into Castlevania past season 1, LMAO! But his backstory felt like straight trauma porn cooked up by a non-Black person who wanted an excuse to see a Black man whipped for character development.

Zodwa Nyoni wrote some episodes for Nocturne and she put her FOOT in it. When it came to addressing Annette’s time as a slave, her connection to the Orisha through her bloodline… I was gobsmacked at how accurate everything was and now I know why LOL! Like, for me, it’s always gonna be hard to see slavery in fiction but I can’t say shit bad about how it was tied into everything in this show. Annette’s ancestors play such a huge part in her growth and it just warmed my heart to see a Black girl whoop some colonizer ass without it feeling hamfisted. 🥹

The token relationship is the cishet one, everyone else is gay asf

I love that trope flipped on it’s head, ngl LMAO! I, by default, HC everyone as bi anyway but MAN was it nice to see Olrox and Mizrak speedrun enemies to lovers and a hint of Drolta’s devotion/gayness to Erzsebet.

I know the majority of my fictional character thirsting leans male but don’t get it twisted; I jump for JOY for gay shit in media 😂 The only reason I don’t thirst as hard for female characters is because I prefer my men fictional but my women real.

That being said, this series sent me into bi panic and I’d like to be manhandled in a room by Drolta and Olrox.

Nocturne’s first season plays out neater than the OG’s first season.

Like… okay. My main beef with the OG series was that after they defeated Dracula, the rest of the show felt like a meandering fanfic. Sure, there were a few badass moments, but the energy kinda faltered for me and I was bored with a lot of it. I hope they don’t do the same with Nocturne; they left off at a nice cliffhanger which builds anticipation for the next season and… idk it feels more cohesive already? They coulda speedran kicking Erzsebet’s face in like the OG trio did to Dracula but I’m so glad they left us a lil something to look forward to.

Alucard’s glow up >>>>>

I’m chronically online but I’m so glad I went into this series blind because the way I GASPEDT when he showed up at the end

Like damn for the past fifty-leven years he was in that castle by himself going “do I wanna talk to Sypha and Trevor plushies again or do I wanna make myself even more of a bad bitch?” Then he chose the latter, went to the salon, got his hair bleached platinum along with some sew in extensions for volume, beat his face with Fenty, and said “sorry Drolta but there can be only one vampire baddie on this earth and hunny I’m TAKIN IT”

He looks more like his video game design this way too, which I love! I hate that he took out Cuntress McSlay tho 😔 Drolta I will always love you!!

Mmkay. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to start a cult to Olrox real quick. Erzsebet ain’t the only god walking the earth and I feel he just needs good marketing!

#I don’t know what to do until season 2 😩#there’s just so much I want to see but I have to WAIT #Annette is badass now but I know her character development bout to go CRAZY #her and Richter gone have biracial babies just watch!!#wonder what her ancestors gone think about her being with a colonizer tho 👀#ah well Richter will treat her right I know it #oohhh I bet her locs will be down her back by the end of this series #Richter better get his long hair too!!#castlevania nocturne

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002yb · 1 year

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Idk why, but I really like to think Jason is lowkey happy when everyone just assumes Dick can't cook, because then he's the only one eating his boyfriend's food

Accepted and appreciated headcanon, anon. So good!! Ahhhhhhh I just really enjoy when someone headcanons this man knowing how to take care of himself. Dick is so fiercely independent and stubbornly tenacious - of course he’d learn to feed himself. (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

Dickjay portion of content under the cut (a few paragraphs down lol).

Personal headcanon: Dick doesn’t particularly care about food past calories in. So long as he has energy to burn, it's whatever. It’s a productivity thing. That changes when he wants to cook for someone else. ;u;

Another headcanon: everyone assumes he can’t cook because the first time Dick tries to cook for his friends he gets distracted with work and gets so caught up in it he forgets. Leading to burned food and blaring smoke alarms. After that, it’s just an assumption that Dick sucks at cooking so he ought to stay out of the kitchen and not touch anything that requires heat or electricity because disaster man.

Bringing it back to Dickjay though because fffffffff all the thoughts. So Dick doesn’t care about food past calories in. Jason, given his history, just isn’t a picky eater. He’s happy if it’s not rancid; if it’s not some desperate game of food poison roulette. Been there, done that - he’s lost way too many times for comfort.

Anyway, Dick’s cooking not being great but Jason being more than pleased because Dick, well. Maybe the first time Dick didn’t cook for Jason, but Dick shared the food he made for himself. And it’s well balanced and thoughtful and a sort of kindness Jason associates to the kindest person in his life (Alfred). And Dick being caught off guard and a little overwhelmed by just how pleased Jason is.

After seeing Jason like that - Dick puts more care into his meals. So that when he has the opportunity to feed Jason again, it’s actually nice.

Dick paying attention to what Jason seems to prefer (difficult because Jason really does like everything) and trying out new recipes that take those preferences into consideration.

Jason noticing all Dick’s unwitting affection and getting overwhelmed - overfull. Well fed with food and love and ahhhhhhh.

And of course Jason eventually overhears a teasing jab at D’s ‘inability to cook’ and being so ??? Looking to Dick, who looks at him and just smiles something private and just for Jason before returning to whatever conversation - laughing and playing along, playing dumb.

It’s a secret just between the two of them. Nothing twisted or sinister about it, a novelty for the sort of lives they lead. Jason smiling to himself, too. Feeling special and spoiled because he really sort of is.

Loose tie-in: Jason cooking for Dick for the first time. It’s a critical hit. Dick is mesmerized for the longest time, but then he flusters and has to drop his head to the counter. Hiding because he’s got the dumbest smile on his face. Jason is just so sweet though and lbr, for all the kinks Dick may or may not have - domesticity kink is always present lol.

But yes, Jason being pleased that Dick's cooking is just for him. Dick gives so much of himself to others; having this one thing for himself (something that resonates with Jason so profoundly, too) just means so much to him. ;U; Sweet boys.

#dickjay #jaydick

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moxfirefly · 2 years

Note

Hey hey. Hope you’re well. Could I please request bayverse Mikey crushing bad on a female friend? His feelings towards her both romantically and sexual. How he acts around her and how he finally tells her he’s into her?

You’re writing has impressed me for so long so thought I’d send u an ask! ❤️❤️❤️

I miss writing for this lad and idk I love writing feelings with him so much so I wanna try this out.

Rated Feels/Fluff/Steamy (18+ only)

He’d known he was done for the moment he had held her hand, mid shake he had felt soft skin and the fragility her human hand held against his own.

And it had been so stupidly comforting and enticing all in one go.

Mikey crushes over anybody pretty fast but the drop in his gut and the way he was impossibly silent when it came to you just proved that this wasn’t some school boy crush. He likes to think there’s more beneath the surface, a simple answer to a series of difficult brain busters and tongue twisters. He’s aware how subtle it is, how is starts to manifest in slow intricate moments shared with you. In a simple conversation, with you smiling and giggling your way through his peculiar thoughts and jokes. In his innocent flirting and wow is that one telling, because Mikey doesn’t innocently flirt, he’s pretty forward about it.

Thought meet mouth, hello pickup line.

It’s like that but complex, he’s bashful about it almost, worried it’ll come out wrong or you’ll take it in bad stride. He’s lost count of how many times he’s just honest to goodness gazed upon you, watching you talk to the group and become the center of everyone’s attention so effortlessly. His smile will grow slowly, eyes following every quirky gesture that’s so second nature to you. He’s invested hours of his time memorizing the most bizarre things about you, the quirk of your lip when you think, the way you run a hand down your throat when you’re sweaty...

How your tongue darts out to lick your lips.

That’s a new one, thinking about somebodies tongue. He’s thought about every part of the female body at least once but somebodies tongue?

How can it be such a turn on? To wonder what his friends tongue would feel against his own, against his neck, up the length of his plastron... around his cock.

Mikey sticks his arms between his legs and moves his gaze away from you, he needs a cooling period. The come down from having you buzzing around his brain can really do a number on him.

You always manage to twist his guts around when he’s indulging in fantasizing about being deep in yours. For once he’s kinda embarrassed about it, sure he’d thought up April six ways from Sunday but that had quickly lessened. You though? He doesn’t just want to be deep in you, he wants so much more than just the fleshy desires, he wants the before and the afters of it. The mere thought of waking up to you somehow gets him harder than the act itself. Just the concept of watching you sleep next to him, have that possibility of casting an arm over your sleeping form and tugging you close. He craves that so deeply, so irritatingly much he feels annoyed by it. It’s alleviated briefly whenever you snuggle up to him during a long night, where it’s movies all evening with the gang and you somehow always managed to sit next to him.

What else can he do? He can’t ignore the growing obsession that is you.

The other day you had wrapped your arms around his neck and crushed his head in a hug and he felt that if he had to die it would be the best place to do so. He remembers the whiff he caught of your perfume, the warmth of your skin, the sound of your laugh when his fingers dug into your sides to tickle you. It’s loud man, it’s so loud in his chest how his heart beats to a tune that is your voice just saying his name in the most softest of ways.

And you stay stuck to him, the side of your body to his own and god he’s never felt a buzzing current in his arm before. Not even when Raph’s got him during chin ups till he sees spots. Never had he felt an urge so annoying to wrap his arms around you and keep you glued next to him.

Possibly forever if you’d allow him to.

He feels a kick under the table, probably Raph because he’s been staring like a love sick turtle for the last ten minutes. You’d been relaying some tale about some event in god knows where New York, but your lips are shiny from lip gloss and every time your eyes fell on him he felt close to evaporating from the dinner table.

So he sits there quietly, admiring as per usual, trying not to smile in a way that gives him away too easily. Trying not to picture what life would be if he had a chance with you, if he could even kiss you even if it was just once. He didn’t want that bitterness that every so often reared it’s ugly little head to set in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to think about you going off and falling in love and having all the normal things that he couldn’t have with you.

Normal was such a brutal word.

He wished he could remove it from his vernacular, maybe the dictionary in itself. Fuck normal, fuck it seriously…

But life can be so funny at times, it can throw you a metaphorical bone. Because on some random day, on some random spot in New York, the subject of crushes had come up and ever the ‘shoot my shot’ type, Mikey had let his words linger in the air about his feelings for you.

“Wait, you like me back?” He hadn’t meant to sound so taken aback but given his predicament, could it be helped? You had smiled sincerely, not in the gotcha way, just that devastating smile he had come to think about a hundred times a day. “I thought I was being pretty obvious at some points, guess my game is off” There was just the faintest hint of a blush and it ate him up, wanted to chew up his heart because the girl who had occupied his inner most thoughts was confessing.

Confessing to liking him back.

He had to blink, and for the hottest of seconds he could’ve sworn he swallowed his tongue.

She had simply giggled, eyes a bright and lips shiny. She wanted him to make that final move though. Cross the finish line, come in with that clutch he so often did when patrolling.

So on the rooftop ledge of some building, in somewhere New York, he had leaned in a pressed his lips to her own.

And for the first time in a long time, the somersaults in his chest came to a screeching halt.

Because kissing you felt so normal in just one go, so perfectly perfect.

Just right.

Meant to be.

He couldn’t hate normal now.

#ask #nittleboo #this tool for fucking ever and I’m sorry #feels #fluff #tmnt michelangelo x reader #tmnt mikey x reader #michelangelo x reader #mikey x reader #tmnt michaelangelo #tmnt mikey #requested oneshot

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antiloreolympus · 1 year

Text

10 Anti LO Asks

(Note: All of these asks are before episode 206 (Season 2 finale) so some may be dated.) 1. I can't even trustt this "cute" moment between zeus and artemis bc rachel is just way too anti zeus and too big of a fan of "twist" villains that I just have the feeling she's going to use this as a stepping stone to set up artemis the next villain because idk she doesnt like hades still and be like oh what BETRAYAL of persephone! now both of the twins should be punished now! or w/e.

2. It's not just that a time skip is lazy and out of place, if you're just going to flashback to explain what happened anyway, then don't do a time skip? Just show the progression as you already have done? Why skip ahead only to jump back? She's basically trying to do too many things at once and none of it is done well.

3. the wild part to me is has rachel ACTUALLY read the old texts? because they're way more progressive than her work. demeter's hymn praised her and persephone while calling out the abuse of men, women like aphrodite (who has a ton of sex with many partners) or artemis who didnt have sex were all held to high respect and never shamed for their choices, and stories like the odyssey/Iliad explicitly called out slavery, yet rachel is here in 2022 being ore conservative than men from 800 BC. like???

4. A time skip in LO isn’t a bad idea in and of itself. We’ve been complaining about RS’s slow pacing for years and she’s finally taking a different approach, which is good! The only problem is that her execution of the time skip ends up leaving out integral and interesting details about how the characters’ relationships with each other have changed in the decade since we’ve seen them. I was looking forwards to Minthe and Perse reconciliation arc but we don’t even know how they grew to that point

5. I love the her current look is a "turn off" line tho bc it's both persephone being aware hades is a gross old man who only dates under 25 years olds but doesnt seem to linger on this realization (P is legit so stupid) but also that rachel has zero self awareness that shes not a very good artist bc persephone still looks exactly the same despite being ten years older. like rachel will just say whatever lie she thinks up despite direct contradiction in comic and be like wow im such a good writer

6. Out of all things wrong with LO, I don't think I mind the switch from serious to silly in the mid-season premiere chapter? The part where Zeus gets threatened with ConSEqueNCEs for punishing Persephone is dumb as hell, but the transition to her speaking to the screen like she's talking to the audience before revealing something ridiculous is a tried and tested way of moving to a new scene, so I kinda like it. It's marred by her talk of pierced ears and green hands, but it's not bad.

7. How did you get into Lore Olympus in the first place?

From OP: I found LO after seeing a lot of ads for it. I already knew of its existence but decided to try it because why not (I think I got into it around episode 70ish). I was obsessed with it, not solely because of the romance but because of the art. However, I started to question a lot of the stuff in the story and looked through youtube and tumblr to see if I was the only one feeling this way. Surprise surprise, I wasn’t and now I’m here lol.

8. I'm confused with the whole Artemis being called protector of women. You'd think she would do something to earn that title, but all she did was ask to be with Persephone in the mortal realm? It makes zero sense.

9. I know changing your physical appearance is sometimes an external sign that a change is going on internally but... did RS really have Persephone pierce her ears as the ONLY sign of her taking her life into her hands? I don't mind it as a heavy-handed metaphor but girl has done the bare minimum in ten years (a punishment she was happy with until they actually sentenced her with it) and you're telling me it's #girlboss because she pierced her ears???

10. What's so annoying about the timeskip too is it's not just lazy, it makes the last FOUR YEARS be for nothing. HxP relationship is exactly the same and their characterization is stagnant, big deals like Leto and Kronos are just swept to the side, Eros and Psyche was dropped I guess? Minthe and Daphne is resolved off scrteen, and the now the actual myth is supposed to start after FOUR YEARS of nothing happening? It's just a waste of everyone's time, but Rachel gets rich off of it at least 🤨

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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about-faces · 1 year

Note

oh man the stuff with his dad is... Something. TW for abuse and being apologetic towards abusers.

Misha!Harv's dad is given a completely made up thing called 'identity dysmorphia' and they try to equate love-bombing that abusers do as "actual" love. Like that his dad was a 'really good person who really loved Harvey' he just was... mentally ill. Idk as someone who's been through abuse and had love-bombing done to me, I dont think any mental illness would be excuse enough for me to forgive them? I remember the psychologist telling him to forgive his dad, i'm not sure if that was said verbatim could be misremembering, but as someone who is working towards being a therapist that is something you do NOT tell a survivor to do.

Ohhhhhh boy then I’m definitely gonna have shit to unpack with this when I see it. Time to overshare a bit!

My Dad was an alcoholic, and while he was never physically abusive beyond threats, he would vacillate between syrupy sweetness and adoration of me one moment and bitter, resentful abuse the next and back again, with no warning or acknowledgement. I’m sure my dad had some undiagnosed disorder on top of the alcoholism, which just twisted and magnified his issues that were already present.

My own therapist can’t really understand how living with this fucked me up, or at least I feel like I can never explain what it was really like. It’s why I kept going back to Eye of the Beholder and Crime & Punishment all these decades, because they capture the experience better than anything I’ve seen outside of Immortal Hulk. And even there, the father was just a monster. Whereas Harvey’s dad in those stories always struck me as more like my own: a man who did, in his own way, have genuine love… but it was twisted by something inside even before it was drowned in booze.

(What’s really fucked up is that I think I actually DO forgive him… but that only happened with a decade of him being dead and the gradual acceptance that my mother was worse and more damaging to me than he was.)

Which is to say, I may well have some huge problems with this take on Harvey’s dad when I see it. But it sounds like there’s at least more to chew on here than in most of the other (very few) takes on the abuse which acknowledge it happened but minimize it to just a violent monster, without the Jekyll/Hyde factor of alcoholism meeting unexamined mental illness.

And while I don’t expect the show to do this, I think it WOULD be valid to have a story with some well-meaning, dangerously-misguided therapist pushing for forgiveness, which is where EotB’s Gilda can come in and say “fuck that, he’s a monster, he’ll never change.”

#abuse #child abuse #alcoholism #child abuse cw #abuse cw #abuse tw #child abuse tw

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trashexplorer · 2 years

Text

BLCD Review: Re:birth

Title: Re:birth (リバース)

Author/Artist: Asou Mitsuaki

Release Date: 2021/04/07

Cast:

Ono Yuuki x Okitsu Kazuyuki

Kumagai Kentarou

Yashiro Taku

Saitou Masaki

Ishikawa Kento

Synopsis:

Habaki (police officer) and En (writer) are a pair who grew up together in the same orphanage. En struggles with abnormal pheromone secretion: sensitive not only to his partner, but to others as well. To make things worse, En developed a genetic mutation where common suppressants are no longer effective - at least, that's how it appears.

A clueless Habaki continues to neglect his career prospects for En's well-being. On his first day as a transfer at a new jurisdiction, he begins to investigate an omega rape case. Meanwhile, producing excessive amounts of pheromones, En reaches out for Habaki as he enters his estrus cycle — almost as if he's an omega...

Review Proper

So, I actually listened to this right after I did Kurui Naku, but I dropped it because following it with the manga was such a chore. I mean, it was already hard seeing as how different the pacing was in the BLCD as opposed to the manga, but there was also the issue of the mistranslations in the scanned version of it. Don’t kill me for this, Chrima, y’all know I love you guys, but why so many? 😢 However, since my love for Ono and Okitsu outweighed me spazzing over every little thing, I just decided to not read the manga and be done with it. I wasn’t too sure if it was a good idea to put this right after Takane no Hana ‘cause it was a tough act to follow, but I didn’t want to move on to the next log without trying. THERE’S GOT TO BE A REASON WHY THIS WAS SO ACCLAIMED, RIGHT??? IT EVEN GOT 12TH PLACE IN BLIND CHIL-CHIL, YANNO???

Tbh, I’ve already read chapter 1 from Daddy even before the BLCD, and the plot didn’t really grab me ‘cause idk. It just gave me weird Memento Scarlet vibes lmao. Thankfully, however, it got super interesting towards the climax! I did not expect that En was just pretending to be an omega! WHATTA TWIST! I might just been dumb for not reading the signs, but whatever. Damn, I knew it was gonna be melancholic, BUT I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS GONNA BE THAT SAD! IT’S ALMOST LIKE KASHI-

EXCUSE ME??? DID Y’ALL REALLY PUT OKITSU IN HERE BECAUSE OF KD???!!!

HOW—HOW DARE YOU!!!

AND HOW DARE ME ‘CAUSE I WOULDA KNOWN IF I JUST IDK READ???!!!

I was so preoccupied with this being a reversed Coyote, so I definitely did not see that Miyauchi Ichirou revival! UGH! I FEEL SO VERY BETRAYED!!! Don’t get me wrong, I mean, KD and this is only similar in regards to that beta wanting to be another gender thing. It hurts different and all, BUT I WON’T BE ABLE TO GET OVER THIS, OKITSU. IT’S MY FAULT FOR BEING DUMB, BUT I JUST DIDN’T SEE IT UGHHHHHH

Okitsu also didn’t use his Miyauchi tone here, which is nice ‘cause I just heard from his KD partner, Maeno, one CD ago, who also didn’t use his Kudo voice. I believe this is the highest tone I’ve heard him in recently. His bedroom voice threw me off a little though ‘cause it felt a little too pornstarny and awkward, BUT THEN I FIND OUT THAT HE WAS PURPOSEFULLY ACTING THAT WAY AND WHEN THEY HAD REAL SEX LATER ON, IT WAS BACK TO NORMAL??? OKITSU HOW ARE YOU SO TALENTED??? I HATE YOU FOR FOOLING EVEN ME LIKE THAT??? Man, I just really can’t with Okitsu. He will be the death of me. 😩

As for OnoYuu,

Finally, OnoYuu redemption arc!!!

Nothing better than this to revive my faith in OnoYuu ‘cause the last BLCD of his I listened to was Yuukyuu Omega where he voiced that horrible alpha, well, horribly. It’s actually been a whole year since I’ve heard him in a good top role, with the last one being Sohei-san in Love Hole 303. He’s a bit less daddy here but more nice next door onii-chan, so that was welcome change. I’d argue that he did better here than his Kimi to Boku to Sekai no Hotori, which is the closest role I can think of dynamic and tone wise. But I mean, he’s playing opposite Okitsu, a BLCD being magic is almost always a given when you put those two together (read: Coyote). It’s a bit sad, but I only have Coyote and Nikurashii Kare on my next log, but I find solace in the fact that he’ll be in his middle tone in Nikurashii too.

Everyone else did spectacular too. I was so absorbed in their performances that I didn’t even realize that Kumaken and Takuchan were in this. Kumaken as Saginuma really surprised me ‘cause I always say that he and OnoYuu sound simi-

WAIT

DID Y’ALL CHOOSE KUMAKEN FOR SAGINUMA ‘CAUSE HE CAN SOUND LIKE ONOYUU???

KILSCUDCHERRY, I HATE Y’ALL SO MUCH

SEE??? IF I READ, I WOULDN’T HAVE SUCH BAD LATE REALIZATION HEADACHES!!! UGH

I’m tired

Whatever

Bye

For however jumbled the events were in the BLCD, I would still 100% recommend it to fans of the manga. I didn’t have any issues with Kilscud this time ‘cause the sound engineering was actually great here. Also, to whoever casts for them, I really don’t know if I should praise or curse you. Again, this is plot heavy and had frequent flashbacks, so it would be tough to follow if you’re a beginner at the language. I fervently hope that this gets licensed sometime soon. This is me deluding myself that June would somehow get it ‘cause nobody else does Kaiousha. Recommendations? Look at me. Closer. You know I’m gonna say Kashikomarimashita Destiny, don’t pretend. 🤧

And that is my first 2021 log finished. I still have, like, 30 more to go. Wish me luck omg. I don’t think I’m gonna make it.

#blcd reviews #blcd 2021 reviews #re:birth #asou mitsuaki #kilscudcherry #ono yuuki #okitsu kazuyuki #kumagai kentarou #yashiro taku

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fighting4ml · 2 months

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Learning lmfaooo I can’t give my attention to nobody not even friends cause wtf let’s not get besides ourselves. Tryn find balance cause idk guess it was to make me more aware. Cause idk in what twisted mind mfs mistake admiration for I think im better than you. It’s likeee bitch what now it’s like well I probably am. And I see that a lot w Aquarius then we da bad guys when we finally say fuck yo feelings and everything u stand for 😭 so it’s always fuck everybody feeling lawd cause what just being more intentional to is what I gotta work on. As well as building by myself because that’s just what it is for me that’s aqua that’s me and it’s funny cause it’s like idk how I tapped into the bitch ass feminine energy. I’m a boss. I get shit done. I manifest and put in work everytime it’s that mix of bullshit emotion in da rest of my chart be having me fucked up. But it’s like at the same time I need it cause if I ain’t have it be hell on earth for folks. Talk about demon yea ite 🤣🤣 God keep me bro. Keep my head on. You my keeper man. I ain’t sure or dc bout nobody else but I’m sure about you. Ofc keep my family as well, health, mentally , physically, wealth, emotional health as well G. Everybody I hold close. Even the ones that plot against me. It sucks and i don’t get why the ones I fw da most b da main ones against me and da people it be like ite it be like wtf that’s why I gotta treat everybody da same jhi like til I get a reason cause wtf. Ugh and why am I feeling people so deeply wtfffff do u want from meeeeee rl feeling people symptoms and pain bruh it’s crazy.

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faithfromanewperspective · 5 months

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I can’t stop thinking about the expectation ingrained in culture that women will be the emotional supports and de facto therapists for their (male) partners. I can’t stop thinking about how I saw it in my (female) friend’s marriage and how good it is if bittersweet to see her free from that. I can’t stop thinking about how I saw it in my flock, they’re just birds, surely this isn’t a thing, but it is clear as day and the aging widowers in the flock, many of them are proof of that and I wish I did better by my girls. I can’t help think of a (male) friend who I’m usually really close with but I feel like I’m losing him, I’ve felt that before, I can’t help seeing how free his ex gf seems since they broke up and I wonder if she’s another one of the bisexual girlies I know who’ve sworn off men and this gives me such a new way to look at my queensland best friend and I hate it I want to throw up because I know he’s better than that. and there’s nothing I can do because he has to do the work himself and it’s the same isn’t it? with my other friends ex husband and my old birds and how do you even do the healing work when you’re a bird?? maybe I can do something there. but how many generations has this happened? have my great grandmothers gone to their graves believing they’re good for nothing but emotional support? have yours? good on my mum for never being that for anyone. her children did the work ourselves, didn’t we? and I can’t even grieve for us, we’re too stubborn anyway just like my dad, we were always made to make it through the world through observation and art and may we never bleed down the generations or just shut out that softness like our grandparents. may we always rebel against gender roles the way we do, may we be the queer icons that we are always, may we show the world somethjng else. when did my sisters grow up to become this?

but while I celebrate us I also look at gender roles again, I’m not usually one for them, I’m just against being told to do things that don’t work for us and aren’t natural already but I’m obsessed with finding the good in everything and I think that I can, not these kinds of gender roles, not the provider and the therapist that became two incomes but one still provides the emotional labour. I look at lines like ‘love your wife as Christ loved the church’ and ‘respect your husband’ (which btw are about mutual love and submission and anyone who twists that is trying to hold a sense of power over someone and they’re Officially Wrong) but maybe the weird and potentially sexist wording had a point?? self sacrificial love of a god who dies for a bunch of people many of whom hate him: that’s something that women through history have done naturally, people pleasing, connection seeking, fear, it’s not actually natural but something we’ve been socialised into. and isn’t the gospel about liberation, what a better way to be liberated than having a mandate that the men in our lives do the exact same thing?? so much giving, that no one can take more than their fair share when they need that love? builds the connection we all seek that can heal?? maybe that’s the reason behind it idk who am I to say?? and maybe respect is refusing to treat a man like a child who can’t meet his own emotional needs? maybe it’s saying you can do this, but this is something you have to do yourself. you have to step up. you can’t bleed out on your partner and kids and expect them to clean it up, if you respect yourself you get your shit together yourself and it doesn’t mean you’re mentally well all the time just that you take responsibility? and I respect you enough to know you can do it and I don’t have to do it for you. so many of us as women do it for the men around us and it doesn’t work. I only hope it isn’t too late for my loved ones (human) to see this. of all genders. and all take responsibility but also have access to healthily given love to let in. It’s the same thing for all genders. but the backdrop is different. for cis men and women. for trans and nonbinary folk or anyone of any gender who just refuses to go along with any of it. and so watch me randomly deconstruct (Christian) bible passages one anti-sexist privilege and culture-aware hot take at a time. may you find any good that’s in this if there is any there, regardless of what you think about these texts or religion

#punk christianity #progressive christianity #gender #feminism between the lines #lmk if this is actually feminism tho #bc it’s just a thought dump. unprocessed

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outofcontexturi · 1 year

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Mon 7th feb 2023 journal 7:11am

The sky is a nice light blue this morning. I’m thinking about life right now. I keep thinking about whether I’m good enough for things. I’ve lost a lot of self esteem recently and I just can’t seem to find it or a reason to be doing the things I’m doing. It’s like I make myself cringe whenever I do things. Apparently this is a habit that can be changed and I want to change it cause it’s ruining my livelihood and I can’t live like this. It’s far too volatile and more time depressing like this. I’m being mean to myself. I don’t really know why I’m struggling to love myself the way I want to. But it’s to do with the fact that I think too much about what others think. I can’t help it. I put a massive spotlight on myself all the time. It’s like I’m super conscious of myself and my movements in the world. I sometimes listen to people and how they get things done and have achieved the things they want and I think to myself “am I even doing this thing right?” cause I feel wrong and I feel like I’m doing the wrong thing. It’s like I’m a prisoner trapped in my own golden cage of negative self thoughts where every thought is negative but the mind of this cage looks well presented. Life is going whether I like it or not. I can’t stop it. This is actually what I wanted to talk about actually : control. I need control and I need to not need control. I want to control the outcome of things into my favour cause I believe that’s how you live a good life. I just caught myself in the act of internalising something and how subconscious it is. I finally know what subconscious is. I’m deeping how much I think about myself. It’s like 98% of the time I’m just focused on me. Because i care about what I think but too much. It’s 7:29am. I’m on the toilet just thinking will I ever make it? It’s been a wild ride and don’t get it twisted I’m good but am I good enough. I’ve managed to change the font of their text. I’ve been trying to be the perfect person for 10+ years now and it’s not working. But idk if I know myself enough to be myself or if I am myself but just can’t accept myself. I just thought about the height of my human consciousness is someone else praising me for my work. I know more people alive than I know dead and I’d like to keep it that way. I thought that sounded cool. I think the reason I’m awkward is because I think too much. I’m listening to Beyoncé’s Renaissance album. I wanna see how this makes me feel. It’s 7:59am. I went outside to feel something and look at the sun. I questioned why I didn’t feel good about myself I just have low self esteem and want control. I need to believe in myself again. I feel like I’m ugly. But I know I’m not ugly. Like I can’t be ugly but you know when you just feel it so you can’t fake confidence man. You can feel when you’re confident and when you’re trying too hard. Cuff it is such a feel good song. What a beautiful funky song. This is an amazing album. The production on this is crazy! I’m looking for something that lives inside me word to B! But I feel like my soul is broken. Going back to the drawing board. I feel like this is a constant feeling I feel though. I feel like I’m always failing at things and it’s making me self conscious of the fact that I may not be as good as people say I am or I think I am at times and it’s ruined my love for performance and creating. I can’t control these things. I can’t control these things I can’t control these things they are not in my control. How can I be honest with you when I’m lying to myself? Oh my god im just deeping that I’m lying to myself or am I convincing myself I’m lying to myself? questions plague me everyday. Every single day I’m here a question about myself plagues me. It’s 8:24am. I’m in bed. The room is a nice temperature. I think my conditions are nice but I’m not happy with myself. I’m not accepting this though cause fuck not being happy for yourself. You need to happy yourself nigga. Feel the fear and do it anyways. I need to get that shit tatted on me somewhere cause that should be the way I live. I spoke to Reba yesterday. SOT: 8:28am.

#journal

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tteokdoroki · 3 years

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baby, you’re tiny | k.bakugou.

⇝ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

⇝ word count: 2.3K

⇝ rating: mature, 18+.

⇝ genre: first time!au, smut.

⇝ summary: there were many things katsuki loved about his girlfriend, the main being how tiny she was compared to him; more specifically, how tiny she looked when they were in the bedroom.

⇝ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to 18 ), size!kink, protected sex, fingering ( female recieving ), virginity loss, sub!reader + dom!bakugou,spitting?? y’all idk its just smut ok!! katsuki is soft <33

⇝ author’s note(s): hello hello hello!! it’s been a while since i posted my lastr request so i hope you enjoy this!! this was a request by anon, apologies for the delay. also :( my blog has grown so much so i want to thank you all for 1K, ilysm <3

⇝ masterlist | requests

you were tiny.

and if there was one thing katsuki bakugou loved most about you, his girlfriend, his how tiny you were.

at least compared to him.

most of class A had been shocked when you started dating at the start of second year; since in first year, all katsuki had done was pick on you for your height ( or lack thereof ) and nag you for your quirk— lullaby hadn’t been quite so powerful back then. but your fondness for him grew that summer, having spent time with he and eijirou over the break.

bakugou was sweet when he wanted to be, soft and attentive to you and you only. his teasing gradually let up, turning into sweet gestures or whispered praises and then finally stolen kisses under the night sky.

that’s what lead you both to date, in the end; but everyone supported you nonetheless. it was quite funny to see the great katsuki bakugou help fix your uniform in the morning or make you breakfast in the dorms and even if he yelled at the others for mentioning it— he loved the weight of your barely-there palm in his and the way you pouted up him with faux anger when he rested his elbow on your head.

you were short enough for him to tower over you and twirl you in his arms, small enough to look like you drowning in his hoodies that he gave you. even if he stopped mocking you for your height, over a year ago— even now, in your third year he still loved it.

you were so tiny and he loved it.

he especially loved the way you looked under him right now.

“ka-katsuki-!”

your moan fills his ears, overloading each one of his senses and he thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard in his life. pulling his fingers from your slick heat, bakugou’s eyes stay trained on yours as he brings them up to his lips and sucks the remainders of your orgasm away. he lives for the way your face twists with a fresh wave of pleasure and your eyes plead him for more through the dimmed light of his dorm room.

he pinches your thighs, the ones that quiver from your second release of the night, and leans above you to pry your arm away from your heated face. “feel good, sweetheart?” the blonde asks softly, now that he can see you, fingers weaving between your bodies to draw shapes into your swollen clit. you nod once and screw your eyes shut, bare chest arching into katsuki’s at his simple touch. “need another?”

peeking up at him, your boyfriend can see the internal debate dancing in your lust filled eyes. bakugou had fingered you twice to orgasm already and asked if you needed another only to prepare you. for weeks now; you’d both entertained the idea of being one another’s first’s— of course you’d done more than just makeouts and heavy petting but after a year of dating, you finally wanted to be together as one ( bakugou’s words not your own ).

finally, you answer him with a soft ‘no, think i’m ready now,’ and the hot headed boy can barely contain his excitement. he presses a searing kiss to your lips— tongues sliding together while bakugou swallows your helpless whimpers from where you taste yourself on him. your own hand slips between you both now, curling around your boyfriend’s hardening length to palm him.

meanwhile, with a breathless groan, katsuki’s lips slip down to suck love bites into the column of your throat, but only gently. he knows you hate marks but’ll get a kick out of the others fawning over them the next day. the speed of your hand picks up, jerking him off as if for revenge— you knew how easy bakugou could come undone with just your touch and he revels in the way your tiny hands wrap around his thick girth, barely grazing the circumference of it.

just like how you could barely fit his cock in your mouth when you sucked him off—

“baby— fuck,” the blonde’s breath stutters, mind becoming foggy with thoughts of your lips on his girth egging him on. he should stop you before he cums; stop himself from rutting into your small fingers and the thumb that brushes over the glands on his head. bakugou doesn’t want to cum before he’s got a chance to take you for the first time— even if he’d given you plenty of chances to. “slow down little bear, gotta fuck you before— before i cum…”

you grin at him from behind the warmth beneath your skin. “then get to it, katsu…”

the explosive third year gives you one last pinch to your clit and leans back on his thighs ever so slightly to reach for a condom. he quickly rolls it on, tapping his latex covered length against your dripping entrance as he prepares to make you his. you squirm underneath bakugou, fingers reaching up to weave their way into his blonde glossed hair— yanking him closer to you while he finally makes an effort to push into your needy heat.

crimson gaze fluttering down, katsuki looks to where your bodies begin to become joined, your tiny cunt fluttering around the head of his cock as he slides himself inside of you. he feels thick drool pool on his tongue at the very sight, he’s not even half the way in and your gushing pussy is already struggling to take his cock. “would’ya look at that little one,” his words are slurred around the saliva building up in his mouth. you’re so fucking small it’s driving him insane. you follow your boyfriend’s gaze, spasming at how he begins to stretch you out. “seems like your little pussy’s too tight, too small to take your man’s fat cock, huh?”

a strangled whimper sounds in the back of your throat, making katsuki smirk as he taps your cheek with a freehand. he feels a sense of pride lurch in his, how good it feels to be so big that his pretty little princess can’t take him all but he wants a verbal answer from you, wants to hear you struggle just like your glistening heat does.

“yes, ’s too small…” you sigh, chewing on your bottom lip as you meat his eye again—moving to wrap your thighs around his waist.

“should i fuck you open, baby?” you moan lowly at his words, hips bucking up and pussy clenching around his girth involuntarily. “yeah? your greedy little cunt likes the sounda that…” bakugou tries again, leaning over you as he slowly drives his hips forward to push more of his cock into you.

his head drops to your neck, puffs of his breath warm against your skin while he uses all of his willpower to hold back. katsuki knows he’s big, that he can make you feel good because of it too, but he doesn’t want to hurt you. he never wants to. when his dribbling length is half plunged inside you, the ash blonde’s fingers drop to your clit once more— soothing the burn of his weighty dick to help you suck in more of him.

your head thrashes in the sheets while he whispers praises against your bruised and bitten flesh. “you can take it baby, i know you can…”

and you do.

the pair of you groan in unison once katsuki is fully sheathed inside of you, twitching at the feeling of your soft velvety walls finally engulfing him. you can feel the leaking head of his cock prodding at your cervix, stimulating you without your boyfriend having to even move and sending shivers down your spine.

“p-please, katsuki…move.” you growl hungrily, pulling him down to smack a wet, passionate kiss against his awaiting lips. although your teeth and tongue clash messily in your liplock, bakugou doesn’t need to be told twice, drawing back his hips from the comfort of your warmth to thrust into you. the pace is slow at first, sensual grinds against each other as he stretches you out, moulding your walls into the shape of his cock.

it’s not until bakugou’s hips reach a certain angle, prodding against your sweet spot that things take a turn. a high pitched squeal dances through the room, mingling with the sound of your lover’s harsh thrusts as he claims your insides over and over. he revels in the way you suck him in and squeeze around him, painting his cock with your sweet nectar and earlier releases. “taking me so fucking well little one,” bakugou spits out through gritted teeth, barely hanging onto his last thread of sanity, the way you look right now, so flustered and messy with arousal almost pushing him over the edge. “look at you taking such a big fat cock in this tiny fucking hole, you love how big i am don’t you?”

you can barely form an answer when your eyes are rolling to the back of your head at the sheer amount of pleasure, incoherent babbles filling the little space between you both, only urging katsuki on. he already knows how much you love the size difference between you. outside of the bedroom, bakugou uses his height to tease you— putting things on the top shelf to watch you struggle to reach them but inside; he’s absolutely relentless.

he knows you adore the way he uses his larger size to dominate you, stuff your mouth full of his cock or fingers and he adores the way you take him contentedly no matter what.

“mmf— fuck, right there katsuki, feels so good!” you sigh, eyes still closed but your tongue now lolls out of your mouth— creating the perfect lewd picture that your lover will commit to memory. while his large hands sear bruises into your hips he holds still, a free hand comes up to pull down your bottom lip before he spits sweetly into your open mouth. your eyes slowly open to look at him, locking on his ruby stare as you blissfully smile up at him. katsuki swears he almost creams on the spot. “thank you katsu…”

“that’s fuckin’ right princess, thank me for my spit. thank me for making you feel good.” bakugou’s guttural moans dip into low growls, his pace picking up as your iron hot cunt clamps down on him which causes the head of his cock to drag against the spongy spot inside of you— making you see stars and your hips jump to meet the blonde’s erratic thrusts.

hot slick gushes down the your thighs from the sinful way he moves and absused your tightness, evidence of your arousals shining under the moon that slips through his drawn curtains. you can feel his balls slap feverntly against your ass that katsuki spreads apart to plow into you, latex covered length going as far to brush against your womb. each grind, each thrust has your moans rising an octave to the point where your lover has his hands clamped over your mouth to keep you from being too loud.

bakugou sits back on his haunches, pulling you up into his chest with him. you rest weakly in his lap as the explosive boy angles his thrusts upwards and straight into your oozing heat. a broken whimper breaks free from his lips as katsuki catches sight of the slight tummy bulge his fat cock gives you and you see it too, your own whines mingling with his to form a lovers tune.

he knows you’re close by the way you suddenly become tighter and he fucks into you, deeper, harder, faster.

“close katsu, ‘m getting close…” you slur into his shoulder, biting at his skin to keep control of your hazy, lust filled mind. you paint love bites in shades of blues and indigos across the canvas of his shoulders and neck while katsuki uses his pure strength to lift you up and down onto his cock. he groans every time your heat welcomes him again, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. your nails dig into his back, forming sweet creasent moons and making him moan loudly. “gimme it little one, gimme your fuckin’ cum, gonna cream on my cock? yeah? oh fuck yeah…”

his lewd words are what push you off the edge, the coil of desire that had been building up inside you finally snapping. your third release of the night gushes all over your lover’s thick girth, which he still pushes into you, helping you ride out your high. black spots paint your vision as you cum, cunt clamping down on bakugou while he chases his own release.

“cum for me bakugou, please…” you breath gently against his skin, pressing small kisses over his sore love bites. “love you so much, please…”

that’s all he needs to hear from you before spilling his seed into the condom with a shout, twitching as he collapses onto the soiled sheets of his bed with you. the pair of you lay together, still locked together while bakugou calms down from his high in slow grinds, fingers searching for yours to intertwine your tiny hands with his. “love you more dumbass,” he says eventually, smile on his face betraying him against the harsh petname.

you smile at him even as he pulls away to throw away the condom, returning with a wash cloth to clean you both up. “not true, katsuki, i love you most!” you exclaim, tail end of your words falling into a stream of giggles as bakugou presses a flurry of kisses to your face. “with every inch of my body!”

“must not be a lotta love then, y’know, since you’re so fuckin’ tiny.” the blonde hums into your hands when they reach up to cup his face lovingly.

you huff and pinch his cheek after that, calling him a meanie.

but katsuki bakugou doesn’t care, he’ll always love you, no matter how tiny you are.

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chanluster · 3 years

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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

back to masterlist

“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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oilivia · 3 years

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“Be a good girl and spread your legs” - w/ Kuroo, Atsumu & Suga

request: Ummmm, idk if you're still taking requests, but could I get prompt 20. With Atsumu, Kuroo, and Suga? Pls and thank chu!

a/n: these were super fun to write and i somehow ended up with three very different things, but i hope you’ll enjoy! please be mindful of the tws, i’m posting them separately for each drabble. no beta! smut under the cut.

pairings: Kuroo w/ virgin reader & slight corruption; Suga w/ daddy kink & dumbification; Atsumu w/ cowgirl, wholesome

wording: 2.1k

if you want to request drabbles, i have a list of prompts here, but please read my rules first here.

Kuroo

tw: implied virginity, fingering, oral (f receving), slight corruption

“Tetsu-” you moan softly, your hands sinking in his hair, his lips sucking at the delicate skin of your neck. That will leave a mark, but you don’t care. The fact that you are in his dorm room and his roommate could open the door any minute slips from your mind as you feel his hands knead your clothed breasts. All that matters is how good it all feels, how it leaves you wanting more, how his calloused fingers know just where to touch you.

“Be a good girl and spread your legs,” he asks, voice laced with honey. If it was up to him, he’d rip the clothes off of you, free your pretty tits so he could sink his teeth into your perky nipples. But no, he has to take it slow. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you from the start, he doesn’t want you running away from him. You’re so sweet and innocent and your body isn’t used to being touched by a man. You writhe under his fingers, goosebumps littering your skin. He won’t lie, he loves it. Even though his cock twitches painfully in his pants from the lack of friction. He’ll just build you up, steadily and patiently, until you’re on your knees begging for him to fuck you.

Kuroo can see just how shy you are, how you hesitate for a second at his command, your eyes darting to his as if you want to make sure you understood correctly. He smiles sweetly, pressing his hands on the inside of your thighs and pushes them apart slowly. He watches you intently, grinning internally when he sees how you cover your mouth with your hand, averting your eyes as if to hide from his gaze. It’s so cute how embarrassed you are.

Your chest heaves, your breathing shallow. Your whole body feels as if you have a fever - your skin’s burning up, a dull ache in your abdomen. He kneels in front of you and when you feel his finger lightly trace your clothed slit a loud whine escapes you.

He would tease you, tell you that he knows how desperate you are for his cock by the way the wet spot on your white panties grows with his every touch. But he can’t do it yet. He’ll keep the teasing remarks to himself for now, content to watch the string of slick still connecting your folds to your panties when he tugs them down. Your body isn’t as innocent as you are.

“Can I?” he asks, a playful smile on his lips when he sees you nod sheepishly.

Kuroo can’t help but grin when he sees how tight you are, how he’s barely able to push his finger past your entrance. Your moans get louder when you feel his tongue press on your clit, swiping the sensitive nub as his digit thrusts in and out of you incessantly. Will you really cum just from this?

Your walls clench, your body twisting as the pressure in your abdomen snaps, waves of pleasure rippling through you. Your juices spill on his hand as he keeps fucking into you, savoring the lewd expressions on your face as you come undone for him. You’re so beautiful, exquisitely so.

And if that’s how you react to just one finger and a few strokes of his tongue, he can’t wait to see how pretty you’ll look creaming on his cock, the fucked out expressions you’ll be making. Sometimes being patient pays off and Kuroo is sure this is definitely one of those times.

Suga

tw: hard dom Suga, daddy kink, dumbification, infantilization, praise, edging, overstim, dacryphilia, sex toys, mentions of alcohol

When you met Suga you thought he was just another pretty boy, nothing too special. The kind you take home to your parents or marry after you’re done experimenting.

“Be a good girl and spread your legs,” he commands, sharp eyes fixed on your body.

Turns out, his favorite pastime is watching you squirm as he fucks your brains out. All it took was stumbling into his bed one night after work, both of you drunk and lonely. And now you spent most evenings on your knees servicing his cock and waiting for him to take pity on you and stretch your walls.

You comply, opening your thighs and giving Suga a perfect view of your pretty cunt, soaked and throbbing. A small vibrator buzzes happily inside, pulling soft whimpers from your throat. He pushed it inside you on the lowest setting more than an hour ago - punishment for being late. The setting that isn’t high enough to get you off, but it’s high enough to make a mess out of your hole, to have you begging for him to let you cum.

“You look so good like this, you know? Like a dumb little baby, look how your cunny gushes.” He kneels between your legs, scooping the liquid between your folds with a finger “You like having that vibe inside you, hmm? Does it feel good?” He questions, his tone belittling. But you don’t care. All you care about is how good that tiny touch felt. You want to ask for more, but you know how much Suga hates it when you speak out of turn, so you settle on answering his question.

“I-It feels good, daddy,” your voice feels so small and broken as soft moans escape between each of your words. He smiles and your heart swells. You did good, he likes your answer. He watches you proudly. When you two met you were such a little brat. He worked so hard to make you behave, to make you into the dumb little fuckdoll that you are now. He loves you so much.

“That’s my baby. Now, tell me, will you be late again?” His palm is raised over your aching clit, ready to slap the bundle of nerves if you say the wrong thing.

“N-No, daddy,” you try. He smiles again. You sigh with relief, your chest rising and falling with your every breath, your nipples perked from the rush of emotions.

“Good girl,” he coos. His fingers find your clit, rubbing and pinching. “Is this what you want? You want me to let you cum?”

You nod desperately, cries and pleads erupting from your throat as you feel your climax within your reach. Just a little bit more and you’ll cum. You let out a whine when he stops and pulls the vibe out of you - you were so close.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Suga tugs down his boxers, his cock springing, large and throbbing. You lick your lips in anticipation. He gets between your thighs once more, aligning his tip with your hole. He pushes it in, torturously slow. Your legs are on his shoulders, your hands pinned above your head by his strong grip. He chuckles when he sees the way you squirm, how hard you’re trying to get more of his cock inside your plush walls. “You’re such a dumb little baby, so needy for me. You can’t cum without daddy’s help. What would you do without me, hmm?”

“I-I need m-more, daddy, please,” you beg, tears welling up in your eyes. Your insides felt like they were on fire. And you were so close to the sweet release of your orgasm. If only daddy took pity on his little baby and helped her cum.

“If you’re asking so nicely.” Suga slams his hips into yours, shoving the rest of his cock against your cervix all at once. He thinks you look so cute with your salty tears streaming down your face. You don’t last long, not with the pace at which he’s rutting into you. Your mind goes blank, tongue lolling out of your open mouth, your body convulsing under Suga’s. And he keeps thrusting into you, not even letting you catch your breath. You climax again, harder than the first time, your head dizzy, body going limp. Your walls are clamming on his cock, squeezing it and milking him for every last drop of his cum.

“My pretty baby, so good for me,” he whispers as he gives you a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth. “Let me clean you up and I’ll cuddle you.” You don’t even hear his last words as you succumb to sleep, your exhaustion overtaking you.

Atsumu

tw: cowgirl, nipple play, kinda wholesome, Atsumu says baby twice, somehow this one ended up super sweet

Were you always such a tease? Atsumu asks himself as he stares at the way your tits bounce, threatening to spill from your low-cut dress. You’re skipping towards him, huge smile on your face and arms open to engulf him in a hug. You haven’t seen each other in a while, not since you moved to a different city for your job. But none of that matters now - you’re back.

Just like you’re back on his lap fifteen minutes later. Your lips are wrapped around his, your hands playing with the hem of his pants. You taste just as good as he remembers. God, how he missed you. He sucks on your tongue, his fingers pinching your nipples. He smirks when he realizes you’re not wearing a bra. He always hated how those pesky things got in the way of his touches. You bite his bottom lip when he pulls away from the kiss and you smile, a devilish glint dancing in your eyes.

“Did I give you permission to stop?” You tease and he laughs. You’re even feistier than he remembers.

“Fuck, baby, I missed you so much,” his fingers dig into your back as he breathes deeply, taking in your intoxicating scent. “Be a good girl and spread your legs.”

He thinks your cocky smirk is adorable. “When was I ever a good girl, ‘Tsumu?” Still, you oblige, not because he asked you to, but because you want it just as much as he does. You move to straddle his lap, your hand between your bodies, stroking his cock through his pants. His mouth crashes with yours again in a sloppy kiss, tongues twisting as you swallow each other’s moans.

“You want me?” you question, your clouded eyes lying on his, mouth slightly open as you pant trying to catch your breath. His cock twitches at the hypnotizing sight - you could’ve asked him for anything right now and he would oblige.

“What do you think?”

“I think you can’t wait to bury your cock in my cunt,” a smirk plastered on your face as you reach for his boxers, rubbing your thumb in circles over his leaking tip. He hisses at the unexpected touch.

“You know I do.” Lifting yourself on your tiptoes, you pull your panties aside with a grin, placing Atsumu’s tip at your drenched entrance. You gasp as you slowly sink on his cock, relishing the way his girth spreads your ravenous cunt, inch by agonizing inch. You’re not prepped and even though you’re wet, your tight walls burn as his tip pushes inside you. But you couldn’t wait, not with his tantalizing cock finally within your grasp.

The way you’re riding him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, naked tits pressed against his taut chest is driving him crazy with lust. Why did he ever let you go? Your moans sound so sweet and he whispers your name in your ear, over and over, like a prayer. He licks at the shell of your ear and your cries get louder. You gyrate your hips, his palms resting on your waist as he meets your thrusts halfway.

“Your cock feels so good, ‘Tsumu,” you mewl as you pick up the pace, chasing your high with each slam of your hips.

“And you’re so fucking tight. Fuck, baby, look at me. I want to see your face when you cum,” your cunt is clenching snugly around his cock at Atsumu’s words. You indulge him. He watches you bend and undulate as you grind against him faster and faster. He feels his own climax build up and just as your body thrashes in his arms with your orgasm, he fills you up with his cum, his tip resting against your cervix.

“Let’s stay like this for a bit,” Atsumu mutters and you nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck, humming in agreement.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #kuroo x reader #sugawara x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #atsumu x reader smut #atsumu miya #kuroo #sugawara #atsumu #kuroo x reader smut #kuroo smut #sugawara x rreader smut #sugawara smut #♡.cherry #♡.cherry's requests #tw.dumbification

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rezzyromance · 3 years

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can i request a heisenburg x reader where they take a shower together and it starts getting freaky B) idk if im aloud to add kinks but maybe praise :D

This one was written from the heart.

(CW: Sex +18)

Once again, I've written this story with a gender neutral reader until it gets to the sexual part. I am not experienced in writing any sexual scenarios for gender neutral people or people with penises. I'm very sorry for this and hope you enjoy the story anyway. "I'm not going to ask again, Karl. Will you please take a shower?" You've been pushing Karl for the last 30 minutes to take a shower. It had been so long since he took a break from his work to actually take care of himself. It worried you, so you'd often try to take care of him here and there without getting on his nerves. But now, he's being relentless and stubborn. "For the last time, (Y/N) I don't have time to shower." His tone was aggressive as he refused to look away from his work to face you. "When's the last time you change your clothes? You sweat so much during some of the shit you do to these robots, or whatever they are." "It'll all just get dirty again, so what's the point of cleaning anything?" His gross words made you shiver. You loved him, but the man had nearly no concept of personal hygiene sometimes. A small part of him did care a little bit. He didn't want you to see him as gross. He's never had someone who he's felt the need to impress or look good for until you came along. But still, his work mattered so much to him that he casted hygiene to the side more often than you'd both like to admit. "What if I joined you?" You ask. He froze in his place, nearly choking on his own tongue. But he was quick to regain his composure. He looked over at you from the chair he was sitting in. You couldn't tell due to him wearing his sunglasses, but his eyes were scanning every little detail of your face. "Well?" You cross your arms and stare at him waiting for a response. He inhaled through his nose and tried to cover his excitement with a false sense of aggravation. "Fine. As long as it gets you to shut up." He rises from his chair and you can't help but smile knowing you won the argument. "Leave your coat, hat, and gloves here. We'll clean those later." "Yeah yeah whatever." You excitedly make your way to the bathroom. You set the shower temperature to a comfortable level of heat. The room began to fill with steam. Karl stood against the wall with his arms crossed, still wanting to seem reluctant even though he already agreed to the shower. "Alright. Water's ready. Now strip." You demand with a cheeky smile. "You first." "Sorry, can't do that. I wanna make sure you actually get in the shower before I do so you can't run." This makes him roll his eyes. But, once he's done pouting he begins to remove his shirt. You do the same, hoping it will coax him into continuing. Once his shirt is off he throws it to the side and smiles once he notices you stripping as well. It doesn't take long for you both to be completely unclothed.

He pulls back the shower curtain and steps inside. "Ah! Son of a bitch! Why's the water so hot?!" he yells out and begins to twist the metal shower knobs with his powers. "I didn't make it THAT hot." You step inside and feel a shiver crawl up your skin. "Now it's too cold." You complain. "You are not making this easy, are you?" He turns the knob to warmer. As uncomfortable as it was for him before, he didn't want to hear you fuss more than you already were. "That's better." You smile and relax as the water covers your body.

You stood there for a while, just enjoying the feeling of the heat around you. For a second, you zoned out. The whole time he stood there staring at you. Seeing you so happy and at peace made his insides start to feel as hot as the water that bounced and ran down his skin. All of his own discomfort fled as he watching, lovingly, at the smile growing on your face. Your eyes began to flutter open and he quickly looked away, not wanting it to be obvious that he was staring. But, you could tell from his flushed face and wandering eyes that he had been watching you.

You had placed 2 wash clothes on the side of the tub. You bent over to grab them and again he can't help but stare. This time, his feelings are a little less innocent as he gazes upon your body in a position that drives his mind wild. "Here's a wash cloth." You rise up and turn to hand him one. His body was closer to yours than it was just a few seconds ago, but you didn't mind. "Thanks." His voice was rough and low, almost as if he spoke in a growl. You supply both rags with soap and begin to rub down your body as he does the same.

You sit back for a moment, not really putting in much effort into cleansing yourself as you were too distracted by the sight in front of you. The way his silver hair stretched and clung to his face as the water weighed it down drove you mad. The way the water trickles off his muscular arms and powerful body absolutely hypnotized you. "Having fun there, (Y/N)?" You look up from his chest to his eyes. "Sure am. And you?" You use the cloth that you were previously bathing yourself with and begin to rub across his chest. "I'm fine, but I can bathe myself." He jokes. "Are you sure about that? It looks like you missed a spot." You point to a random area on his chest. "What? Where?" He looks down to where you were pointing and you take the opportunity to place an unexpected kiss on his lips. The initial shock causes him to almost pull away at first, but he soon pushes into the kiss, making it more passionate.

Your back was now pushed against the wall as you both continued your heated kiss. He was first to slip in tongue and you followed, ignoring any drool that leaked from your mouth as it only blended in with the shower water. His hands were gripped tightly to your hips. He begins to bring his body closer to yours. You can feel something poking you before the rest of his body makes contact which causes you to smile against his lips.

You place a hand on his wet chest and slowly make your way lower and lower until you can feel the light scratchiness of his pubes. he nibbles lightly on your bottom lip, signaling for you to go even further. You follow through and reach down you grasp his hardened penis. He inhales sharply and you begin to rub it back and forth, teasing him with your soft touches. He grunted quietly and tightened his grip on your hips, digging his fingers in slightly. You whimper and wrap your fingers around his cock as you begin to jerk him off. "Fuck yeah. Just like that." He groans in your ear before placing scattered kisses on your neck. You use your free hand to reach up and tangle your fingers in his wet locks. He begins to bite down on the more tender spots on your soft neck, leaving marks all over.

After more and more stroking, he grabs your wrist and pulls it away from his crotch. "Do you want me?" He says in a husky voice directly into your ear. "Mhm." You try to not moan as you feel his hand rub down your stomach and making its way in between your legs. "Say it. Say you want me." He demands. "I want you." You gasp lightly as his fingers begin to play with you between your legs. Your knees come together and he uses one of his hands to move them apart. You wrap your arms around his neck, using him as support as your legs shake beneath you. His rough and calloused fingers toy with your clit, causing you to dig your nails into his back. This causes him to inhale through his gritted teeth, but he didn't mind.

After almost rubbing you to completion, he pulls away to torment you some more. You let out a dissatisfied groan as his hand pulls away. His smirk was as egotistical as ever. "What's wrong? You want a little more?" He places his hands on the wall with your body in-between them. He slowly began to bring his body closer to yours, trapping you against the wall. His hard dick was between your legs and resting eagerly against your pussy. He slowly rocked his body, moving his dick across your needy region. He stared into your eyes and watched the agitation grow stronger. "Having any regrets about this yet?" He holds in a chuckle. "No. But if you don't fuck me stupid then I might." "Is that an invitation?" He leans in more and places a hand on the side of your face, cupping it while his thumb played with your bottom lip. You open your mouth and lead the tip of his thumb in before slowly biting now. You didn't bite hard at all, just enough to make him pull his dick away from you and begin to position it for entry. "I'll take that as a yes, Buttercup."

With his thumb still in your mouth, he pushes the first few inches of his dick in. Your breath hitches and you accidentally bite down harder. "Bite any harder and I'll leave right now." He threatens. You immediately loosen your jaw and begin to suck lightly as he pushes more of himself into you. You moan and he pulls his thumb out but continues to hold your face in his hand as he slowly rocks his hips, giving you a little time to adjust. But, it was only a little bit of time. Once your body loosened a little bit he began to thrust. in and out, holding into your waist to keep you from slipping. The sound of wet skin slapping filled the room along with overwhelmed moans that you couldn't keep quiet.

A few grunts left his gritted teeth as he pounded into you relentlessly. "C'mere" He grabbed you by the arm and pulled you away from the wall and turned you so your back is facing him. He bends you over and places one of his hands underneath your stomach to provide you for support. You felt as his tip wandered around in between your legs before finding your vagina again. Once he filled you up with his dick again, he began to pound into you even harder. Both of his hands gripped tightly on each side of your waist as he pulled your entire body into him with each pound.

You felt like you could feel it in your stomach. His dick was harder than ever and you swore you could feel it throbbing and twitching inside of you. Your vision was blurred from the sheer amount of overwhelming pleasure so you closed your eyes. Your moans had become quiet little whimpers that were pushed out of you with each thrust. You feel his hand make its way through your hair as he grips a handful of it and pulls your head back slightly. "Fuck yes (Y/N).." He moans as your body limply swings against his pounding. You could feel a burning feeling growing between your legs. Your climax was near and you wanted so badly to finish. He could tell by the way your legs were trembling that you were close.

He reaches one of his hands between your legs and feels for the clit as he continued to slam into you. A loud moan escaping from your lips helped him navigate to eventually finding your sweet spot. So now he was drilling into you while also destroying your clit. You shut your eyes tight and let loose all of the swears, grunts, and moans you were holding back. His climax was approaching as well. You could hear him grunting and swearing louder and louder, occasionally saying your name. "Karl! Karl I'm gonna cum!" You cry out. He doesn't change his pace until he feels you release onto him. Your body goes completely limp as your vagina floods with your orgasm. You couldn't feel your body and your brain felt foggy.

He still had an orgasm to reach, though. So, he pulled out and made sure to keep a tight grip on you to make sure you don't collapse. You followed the motion of his movements as he turned you around and put his lips to yours as he stroked his cock. The kiss was messy, but loving. He stopped jerking himself off and grabbed you by the waist again. "Wrap your legs around me." He says. You nod, too dazed to give a verbal response. He lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist. You also wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head against him as he sticks his dick in you again. You give no protest and close your eyes as he pounds in and out into your comfortable body that engulfed him. While you were quiet, he could still hear you moaning under your breath. He bounced your body up and down, kissing you over and over again. Once he knew his orgasm was rising, he pulled you off and came, letting it drip down his shaft and onto the wet shower floor. You were both breathless but gained a sense of comfort from feeling each others chests rise and fall.

"So," He spoke in between small gasps. "I might need to shower with you more often." You laughed softly into his shoulder, too tired to give any real reaction. He twisted the knob to the shower off with his powers. His hands never left your body as he held you against him. "Here. Sit." He sits you down on the side of the tub and grabs a towel. He softly began to rub your wet hair, attempting to dry it while you rested. You stared into his eyes as he did so. They had their usual sharpness to them, but something about him in this moment was so much more tender than his usual self. You didn't complain though. When he was done, you took the towel from him and returned the favor by drying his hair. He closed his eyes and relaxed against your gentle touch. Once you finished, you placed a kiss on his nose that immediately created a smile on his face.

"How about we go relax a little more before I get back to work." He offers. "I'd like that." You respond quietly. He wraps a towel around his waist and then wraps a towel around you before picking you up bridal style and carrying you back to the bedroom. There, you both curled up against each other and fell asleep.

#re8 #resident evil village #heisenberg x reader #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg x you #karl heisenberg headcanons #karl heisenberg headcanon #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg fanfic #karl heisenburg x reader

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thetoadghoul · 3 years

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Volunteering: (Ohtani x Reader) <333 (Part - 2)

part 1!

plot: Wednesday’s game arrives which Ohtani invited you to, some bonding time before the first pitch <3 slowwwburn, long cause idk details are fun lol

Wednesday quickly arrived, made much faster by the crazy amount of work you were required to do for your ‘actual’ job. The last three days had been spent with you running around the LA area, as well as cyberspace, to serve your role as interpreter. It was hell, for more reasons than one. The biggest of all being that even though you were not in Japan at the moment, you were still required to wear a proper suit. That meant a tight navy skirt, stockings, and some blasted heels. Sexist men, long meetings, and endless paperwork aside, you enjoyed your job for the most part - but this aspect really wore on you. However, the pain in your feet wouldn't damper your excitement for tonight’s game. Today you were not actually volunteering at the Angels stadium.

The day before yesterday, when you were actually volunteering, a bashful Ohtani had tapped you on the back while you were picking up baseballs from the batting cages. When you turned around the giant man was holding out a lanyard with an attached document, marked ‘VIP Guest of Player’. It took all you had not to let your hands shake with nerves as you reached out and grabbed it gingerly.

“Uh, see you on Wednesday.” The man looked to the side awkwardly, running a hand through his hair.

“...Yeah.” You responded with a small smile, feeling stupid, but it was all you could think of.

“Well, uh, I better go...” He motioned behind his back with a lazy thumb, staring to jog backward.

You nodded quickly, rushing to go back to picking up balls before you said something super lame, or weird.

It wasn’t till you were on the way home did you take a look at the back of the stadium pass. It read ‘Guest of Shohei Ohtani’. So he had put in the request for you, that was just like him, so kind. It would be an understatement to say you weren’t excited for tomorrow.

-----

Currently, your heart was still racing, but for another reason other than a certain super cute and insanely talented baseball player. It was because it was almost three-thirty in the afternoon and you were running around your company-provided apartment, trying to get ready as fast as you could. Ippei let you know you should get there around four-thirty, by then the team would have been done warming up and starting to enjoy a pregame meal while the away team got the field to themselves. From that point onwards, pretty much everyone was free to relax in the clubhouse till just before the first pitch.

With little time to consider, not even enough time to take a shower after having just got off work, you went with an oversized red T-shirt, baggy jeans, and some cool Jordan’s. This was your go-to, and it was comfortable. You don’t have many clothes anyway, living out of a suitcase.

Right as you were about to run out of the door you remembered to grab your standard Angels cap, it had been provided to you as part of your volunteer uniform a while back, slipping it on over your tight work bun. You would let your hair down later.

All right, everything was in order, Uber scheduled, lanyard secured.

It took about half an hour to arrive at the stadium, and once it came into view, you instructed the driver to let you out in front of the ballpark entrance. It had been a long time since you got to go through the gates as a member of the audience, it actually gave you a wave of nostalgia seeing everyone in their gear, so hyped up for the game, tailing gating outside for what was probably hours.

Once you were through, you started walking through the concession stands and various other stalls, dodging around the fans that were already inside watching the warm-ups, as well as hanging out drinking and eating. There were pictures of Ohtani everywhere, people taking turns snapping pictures of each other in front of the various cutouts of him. The air was buzzing with energy, and it seemed like all for that guy. Honestly, you had worked for a couple different teams over the years, but you had never seen hype like this. It was surreal, seeing a legend in the making.

You smiled, gripping the lanyard around your neck, making your way through the stadium. Shohei was super nice to do this for you, really, you should show him your support. Maybe a quick peek in the team store would do? Plus, you deserved to spend some money on yourself. After all, this was the first time you had really been ‘out’ in the almost three months you had been in California. Your free time was either working, volunteering, video games, or sleep.

You took a couple moments in the Angel's merch shop, quietly perusing the aisles, keeping an eye out for any Ohtani-themed items. Unfortunately, there weren’t really that many, probably sold out by the fans. What was there, was way too small for you.

“Y/n, you here to watch the game?” A young voice sounded.

When you turned to see who addressed you, a familiar girl was standing there grinning.

“Hey Jordan! I didn’t know you were working tonight.” You grinned back.

Jordan worked at the store as a stock manager, she was close in age to you so the two of you often hung out. You had invited her over a couple times, both bonding over your love for crappy reality TV, beer, and of course, baseball.

“Yeah it was last minute, a girl was feeling sick and there wasn’t anyone else cept’ me.” She sighed.

“Bummer, text me if you need help?” You offered, to which she waved you off.

“Nah, you enjoy being here and NOT working.” She chuckled, walking over to organize a messy shelf.

“So, you looking for something in particular?” The girl glanced over her shoulder.

“Uh yeah, you recommend any cool Ohtani stuff? Or is there any at all... seems wiped clean in here.” You said while looking around.

“Ohtani? You here to cheer him on too then. Wanna catch his eye.” She teased.

“Don’t say it like I’m just here for my like, prince charming.” You snapped back playfully, but, maybe a little too fast.

“Aren’t you?” She pressed with an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’m leaving.” You pouted, fake walking away.

“I’m just kidding, actually, stay here for a second I might have something you’ll like.” Jordan yelled as she jogged off to the back room behind the counters.

You did as you were told and when she came back there was a large white Angels jersey in her hands.

“Ta-da!” She grinned, twisting it around to show the player’s name on the back.

“Oh, it’s in Kanji? That’s cool, I didn’t know these existed?” You questioned, running your finger over the ‘tani’ character of Ohtani.

“It’s the last one on the floor, had to grab it off the mannequin. Hope it’s not too big? It’s XL?” She questioned, passing it to you to hold.

“Nah it’s perfect, can’t you tell.” You joked holding the jersey next to you, while you showed off your oversized clothes.

“Figured it'd be fine, wanna get rung up? I’ll give you that ‘good good’ employee discount. But, don’t tell anyone.” She smiled, heading to the register, to which you nodded and jogged after her.

After you finished your purchase and waved bye to Jordan, it was time to head to the clubhouse. It was around five, so you were later than you planned but Shohei usually practiced batting in the cages a little while longer while everyone headed in. Slipping the plastic shopping bag into your purse, and ripping the tags off your new jersey, you slipped it on over your T-shirt, smoothing out the material as best you could. It felt great to finally have some real merch from the team, and part of you sort of wondered what Ohtani would think when he saw you. Hopefully, it wasn’t too much to just show up in his gear after he pretty much randomly invited you, let alone in the stadium-specific one, as you just learned from your colleague.

After you got to an employee-only doorway, you pushed on it hoping it was actually open. Ippei had also let you know via text that it would be unlocked for you. Another kindness of Shohei, not just inviting you, but making sure you had access to all the catering and AC inside the resisted area of the building. You slipped in and locked the door behind you, not wanting to encourage some intoxicated fans to follow. The hallway was empty and cool as you started making your way to the clubhouse.

You were admittedly a bit nervous by the time you got to the doors, feeling a bit awkward about strutting in as anyone other than a volunteer for the first time. Carefully you pushed open the door, making sure not to hit anybody. The room was full of chatter, some players eating, some playing cards, others watching TV on the room's monitors. You looked around for Ohtani, but he wasn’t there yet apparently. No matter, you strolled in and went for the snack area. Truthfully you hadn’t eaten since that morning, and that was just a toasted bagel. Turning your back to the rest of the room, you began filling up your plate with cocktail shrimp and grapes.

“Nice jersey.” Ippei said, coming up next to you, grabbing small sandwiches for his plate.

“Is that sarcastic?” You questioned with a smile, finishing your plate.

“Nah, I’m sure he likes it.” Ippei jerked his head to the left.

He? You leaned back to see around the man, meeting Shohei’s surprised face almost immediately. Had he been standing there the whole time? He had obviously been staring at your back, at his name, bashfully looking up to your face when you moved, blinking a couple times to clear his eyes.

“I uh, got it ten minutes ago.” You grinned awkwardly, pointing your thumb proudly at the jersey, hoping he wouldn’t think you were a weirdo.

The large player didn’t say anything, blinking more slowly this time before opting to just nod gently, with a quick “thanks for your support”, hurriedly leaning forward to start filling his plate with all kinds of foods.

—-

Once everyone had their food the three of you found a place to sit while you ate, it was at the back of the room away from the noise, and where the two usually sat before a game anyways. A small conversation started while the three of you ate calmly.

“Why... do you only have grapes, and shrimp?” Ohtani questioned suddenly, looking at your plate baffled. You looked down at it as well, pausing for a moment trying to find out what was so weird about that.

“Uh, well, it’s because... these things are... super expensive in Tokyo. It’s like a rich person food to me.” You smiled, eating a couple shrimps happily.

“Wow. That’s so sad.” Ippei chuckled before taking a bite of his sandwich.

Shohei on the other hand burst out laughing at your response, making you laugh a bit too at your pitiful confession.

“Seriously, I feel like a mega-rich, and very posh, Ginza lady right now - eating nothing but shrimp and fruit. So fancy right? ” You exclaimed, popping a grape in your mouth.

The Japanese player laughed even harder, tears building up as he wiped his eyes.

“Those people wouldn’t touch that stuff with a three-meter stick.” Ippei stated, letting out a small laugh.

“Just let me have my moment.” You pouted through a smile, shoving more shrimp in your mouth.

The other man calmed down finally and was now sitting there smiling while he ate.

“So, fancy y/n, are you okay to sit in the dugout tonight. Not too unrefined for you?” Ippei questioned with a smirk.

“That’s, allowed?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah, if you want to. Can’t stay there the whole time, but.” The man responded nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s the best place to hear, ‘the surprise’.” Shohei added, food in the process of being shoved in his mouth.

“Well, doesn’t seem like there’s any other option.” You smiled at the player, who nodded in acknowledgment.

“He’s batting first tonight, you won’t have to wait long.” Ippei spoke, starting on the next sandwich.

“Hope me being in there won’t be bad luck.” You joked.

“You believe in that?” Ippei smirked.

“My family ingrained it into me, wasn’t allowed to watch a single super bowl game in the living room till I literally moved out.” You frowned, stabbing a grape.

“Harsh.” The man smirked with a small laugh under his breath.

“You will be good luck, for sure.” Shohei leaned forward in a hunch to take another bite of food, smiling sincerely at you as he looked up from his food.

“Then, I will see to it that will become a very good omen. Please believe in me.” You responded in the highest form of keigo you knew, bowing rigidly from your seat for comedic effect. Since you never studied that level of grammar, it was really freaking bad, causing the two men to laugh again.

“You’re funny.” Ippei chuckled.

“Yeah, and your Japanese is so good though?” Shohei exclaimed, eyebrows raised, eyes wide.

“Nah it’s pretty bad, I fell off the study wagon a long time ago.” You laughed awkwardly, waving a hand in front of your face.

“You’d be there forever if you stayed on.” Ippei chuckled again, while Shohei nodded in sullen agreement.

“Writing would be nice though, having to look up every other kanji at the doctor's office, or like city hall makes me literally sweat, like, a lot. Buckets. But when I look around, I'm the only one.” You giggled.

“You’re so honest.” Shohei chuckled, wiping his mouth with a napkin, still leaning forward in his chair, you grinned back at him. Your eyes locked for a while, you had never noticed, but his eyelashes were sort of long.

At that moment Ippei had to take a call, letting the two of you know he’d be back in a bit, walking off. The two of you looked away and finished eating in silence.

When you looked up from your empty plate, the large player was now staring at you with a soft expression. The warmth in his eyes made you blush, he didn’t even break his gaze once he was caught like he usually did. You responded back to him simply with a shy smile, before being the one to avert your own eyes to the floor again.

Thankfully at that moment, a group of Angels came over, slapping the Japanese man on the back, starting up a conversion. They were going over strategies for the game and overall just getting hyped up. You didn’t have much to input, so you just kind of sat there enjoying the excited chatter. Shohei smiled merrily the whole time, inserting little jokes, completely affected by their excitement. The way he carried himself really reminded you that the essence of baseball was really just about having fun with your teammates and giving it your all. He looked simply happy to be there, and it made you smile too, just watching him goof off. It was charming to see his duality of being a just big kid with endless laugher, versus the super-serious, and seasoned player he was on the mound.

You were really trying hard not to but, you were rapidly developing feelings for Shohei. The last three months of volunteering here, you of course thought he was really cute and kind, classic boyfriend material. A simple crush, like many of the girls working around him, surely had as well. However the possibility of you two actually dating had always been a foreign concept, one which stopped you from even considering it, at all, you just didn’t know if you even could. With you both traveling for work, how would there be time? Plus, what about the media? His family? Yours? All those things seemed unscalable walls, that is, until this moment, when you could feel his gentle eyes on you once again.

Maybe, there was something? Or maybe, he was just a super nice guy, and you were treated no different than anyone else.

When you snapped out of your thoughts, Shohei was starting to stand up, grabbing everyone’s empties plates. He reached his hand towards you, asking for the one in your hand with a tiny nod of his head, to which you thanked him, stood up, and handed it over.

Well.

Either way, you were so screwed.

-------

Hope you enjoyed! <3

#大谷翔平 #ohtani shohei #shohei ohtani #ohtani shohei imagines #shohei ohtani imagines #ohtani imagines #ohtani x reader #ohtani #ohtani angels

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