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chanluster · 3 years

Text

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

oneshot | friends with benefits! au | 18.7k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyunjin.”

Don’t say it, girl! Don’t you dare!

“It’s...it’s not you.”

You put your hand on your heart.

“It’s me.”

Oh, Jesus.

Your eyes raised to his own, wide and glistening.

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

Face it, ____. You’re done for.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were almost delighted to let Hwang Hyunjin go.

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

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

It was partly you as well.

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

bitch have you done it?

CHRIS THE PISS :

helloooooo??

CHRIS THE PISS :

hoe answer the phone i’m dying!!

CHRIS THE PISS :

or prolly hyunjin at this moment lmaooo

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

unless this is hyunjin and u killed her FUCK

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

YOU :

chan i will kill u :)

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

that was ur girl putting words in my mouth

YOU:

omfg chan STFUUU i’m coming

CHRIS THE PISS :

PLS HYUNJIN I SWEAR UR SEXC

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

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

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

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

You cursed at the man who welcomed you.

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

“Sad it didn’t kill you off, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, we’re getting Indian.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____?”

“No, you’re not having any of mine.”

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

Your mouth dropped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s do it, Chan.”

His hand went limp in your hold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had all the time in the world for this.

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

You wanted this as much as he did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like your best friend promised.

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

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

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

You blinked.

Imagine what he could have done with his dick.

“____?”

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

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

Pride washed over his features. “Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He read your every plea.

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

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

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

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

Nodding, it was all the signal he needed.

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

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

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

Your best friend could see right through you anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Hyuck.”

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

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

YOU WOKE UP WITH CHAN ALREADY GONE.

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS:

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

CHRIS THE PISS:

cause im sure asf u can’t walk rn

You rolled your eyes until it hurt. Stupid prick.

YOU:

i haven’t gotten out of bed actually

CHRIS THE PISS:

oh damn

CHRIS THE PISS:

i PARALYSED u??

CHRIS THE PISS:

why am i so powerful

“This asshole,” you muttered.

YOU:

STFUU COCKY MF

CHRIS THE PISS:

It’s ok you’ll cute in a wheelchair

YOU:

?!?!?!?!!?!

CHRIS THE PISS:

but tell me

CHRIS THE PISS:

how good was it

This had you pausing.

CHRIS THE PISS:

outta ten

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

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

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

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

Again, the situation here was different.

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

YOU:

2/10 :)

You waited for his text.

However, you did not receive it.

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

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

“Now I know you’re lying!”

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

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

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

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

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

God, you could almost feel your nose growing.

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

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

“Shut up, Chan.”

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

“Try me, buddy,” you jeered.

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

“A Hyunjin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did change your life.

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

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

Hopefully tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jisung!”

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

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

“Boo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The joy was not returned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He narrowed his eyes. “Share.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Permission to punch him in the face?”

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

“Fuck.”

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

You played with his curls. “How angry?”

He held onto you tighter. “9/10.”

That certainly made you do a double take.

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

Of course, because you were his closest friend.

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

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

Suddenly, a very pleasing idea came to mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come here, then,” he guttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The image had you remembering your Lord and Saviour.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OF COURSE YOU WERE GOING TO THAT PARTY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did you even come here?

You instantly soured at the thought.

Still, you could not help pondering further.

You should have stayed home. With him.

You groaned out loud.

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

Then were you feeling miserable?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lust. Pure lust swirling in his eyes.

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

“Oh my God!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud this time.

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

Were you really just friends?

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

But...to be more?

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

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

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

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

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

There was a reason he rated it 9/10.

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

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

Stop worrying. Chan is your best friend.

You turned the knob.

Your best friend.

Pushed the door open. Stepped inside.

Right?

“Back so soon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I know Chan practically adores you.

The memory brought chills all over you again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because maybe she liked Jisung all along.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like you!”

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

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

I like you too.

Well, shit. There it was.

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

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

You had finally told him of your feelings.

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

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

God, you were such a bitch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cum for me, baby.”

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

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

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

All for him. All. For him.

Your best friend’s smile was positively wicked.

“I will completely ruin you, ____.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, Chan. Please.”

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

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

“Donghyuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

Bang Chan, your very best friend.

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

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

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

“Cum for me, ____.”

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

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

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

You decided to break the silence first.

“I’m sorry for saying his name.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chan!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

“Chan?”

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

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

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

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

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

He parted his mouth.

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

You blinked.

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

“Yes.”

Your best friend paused.

Turned, ever so slowly, towards you.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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linorachas · 3 years

Text

sunday's best. | bang chan

⁍ pairing — bang chan x reader ⁍ genre — fluff and smut ⁍ word count — 11.2k words ⁍ details — established relationship, domesticity, producer!chan, choreographer!reader, lots of cuddles and kissing (again), you're both really in love (again), hard smut | details under the cut ⁍ notes — part 2 of for the weekend is here! thank you so much to everyone who supported part 1 and asked for more. it gave me so much motivation to start and finish this one and i maaay have gotten a little bit carried away considering it's almost triple the size. and the smut... yea.... this could be read as a one-shot, but there’s a lot of elements from pt. 1 that i referenced in here, so please check that one out first! and also please please lmk if you enjoyed! ♥️ ⁍ summary — Day 2. Holding up your end of the deal, strawberry ice cream, and Ugly Cat bowls.

⁍ smut specifics — dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, one mention of the word "daddy", possessiveness on chan’s part (but not the asshole kind), a smidge of oral (f. receiving), orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, choking (but not really? just hand on throat), reader talks about liking the pain a lot, dry humping, slightest bit of cum play ⁍ little side note — please practice safe sex u guys. wrap it up. these guys are not good role models at all. be safe. also always pee after sex. plz. also this isn't proofread god bless

Saturday, 3:20 pm

“Time to fulfill my part of the deal so we can get on with yours.”

You hold your breath, stunned at the determination in Chan’s eyes. You’re distracted at the way his lips curl and at how his dimples pop out, your eyes following the line of his broad shoulders. You eye the ridges of his arms, down to the veins in his hands, parched throat swallowing when you get to his defined abs.

God, he was sexy.

You follow his happy trail, down and down until-- ah. Right. He was still naked. In the kitchen.

Your face scrunches up comically, desire disappearing as you hop off the counter and shoo him away.

“Go get some clothes, what the hell. Do you know how unsanitary it is to be naked in here? Gross, Chan.”

Staring at you in disbelief, Chan gapes, “after you just blatantly checked me out? I saw that!”

You walk past him, rummaging through the cupboards for food. “Unless you want me to come near you with a pair of scissors close to your-”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Chan shouts, as he rushes back to the bedroom, the panic in his voice making you laugh.

You’re just starting to fill up a pot with water when arms sneak around your waist and a very clingy but now fully dressed Bang Chan nuzzles his face into your neck, humming.

“What do you want me to cook for you, baby?” He asks excitedly, ready to do anything.

You snort. “Unless you can magically conjure up some groceries, I don’t think you can cook me anything at all.”

Chan freezes at that, releasing his hold on you so he could open the refrigerator and cupboards, mouth dropping in shock when he sees that there really was no food. You’ve both been so busy this week, spending most of your meals at that company, that you both probably forgot to do mini-grocery runs.

“Though we do have like, 4 packs of ramen left and half a can of spam.” You call Chan’s attention back to you, gesturing towards the food on the counter. Chan, the big eater that he was, deflates at the sight, looking exactly like a kicked puppy.

“Aw, I know that’s not enough for you, baby.” You coo, shuffling over to Chan to pinch his cheek. It starts gentle at first, but then you put a bit of pressure, narrowing your eyes. “But if you eat more than your share, I’m biting you.”

Chan yelps, nodding rapidly as your pinch his cheek harder, “okay! Okay! I won’t steal from your share, I promise, baby- ow!”

You relent soon after, pressing a sweet kiss to Chan’s reddened cheek as he scowls at you. “Good. Now let’s get cooking, because if I don’t have food in me in the next 3 minutes I really might start biting you.”

Chan jumps out of your reach at that, and you watch him with a smile as he bustles around to prepare your food. You get a bowl each after it cooks, perfectly equal in portion size. There aren’t any words being shared as you both settle on the couch, your thighs pressed together as you slurp on your noodles, putting on a drama you were both invested in. Chan doesn’t notice when you slip your one last remaining piece of spam into his bowl, too busy berating a main character for being stupid, but he does let you finish off the soup in his bowl.

You and Chan start working on chores after that, because when you were looking for the remote control under the couch, you’re greeted with a cloud of dust, making you sneeze thrice.

Chan laughs at you, but then he’s cut off by his own sneeze too. You share one look before you’re both scrambling towards the cleaning supplies.

It takes you both hours just to clean the whole apartment and do some laundry, the sky already dark when you settle back down on the couch.

Considering you literally had no ingredients to cook with, you decide to order for dinner, and there’s a small dispute as to who has to get up to accept the food and pay the delivery man. The fight is resolved with a quick game of rock, paper, scissors; Chan winning fairly, but you still complain on your way to the door.

“We should work out,” Chan pipes up suddenly when you’re both lying on your sides on the couch, him being the little spoon. Dinner was a quick affair, and now you’re both just basking in the happiness of having a full stomach.

You make a face. “Was that not enough of a workout?” you ask, referring to your spotless apartment.

Chan snorts, turning around so his front was facing you. But he slides down, making a sound akin to purr as he buries his face in your neck. “I mean, like. Yoga. Leg day reps. Jogging?”

You groan, pinching his side. “I dance for a living. You go work out. Let me rot on this couch for tonight.”

Chan laughs at that, but doesn’t pester you about it anymore. You let him rest on your clavicle as you focus on your attention to the drama that was currently airing on the TV, slightly interested now.

You’d have thought Chan was asleep if it wasn’t for the kisses that he presses on your neck, harmless little pecks that soon have a bit of teeth in them. You lean your head back, finding the action more comforting than anything, but then Chan’s tongue suddenly darts out to lick at a spot near your jaw, and you shiver.

You sigh, but you don’t push him away. Instead, your fingers card through his hair, making Chan groan happily. He stops pestering your neck then, enjoying your fingers massaging and scratching at his scalp.

But your first mistake was thinking you were safe, because suddenly, there’s a thigh slipping in between your legs, pressing against your covered mound.

“Ah,” you moan, surprised, but Chan doesn’t do anything else after that, just lets his thigh rest there. You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “I thought you were going to work out.”

“This is my workout.” Chan whispers, and when you feel his devilish smile against your skin, you knew you were doomed.

Chan presses his thigh against your clothed pussy more insistently, making you squirm. The thin material of your panties and sleep shorts barely provided any layers between you, heightening the pleasure.

His thigh flexes, and the feeling of your clit grinding down on the hardened muscle was simply too good to ignore, and you’re humping Chan’s thigh before you could even think twice about it.

“Good girl,” Chan praises when he notices your hips gyrating, leaning up for a second to press a sweet kiss to your lips. He continues to adjust, helping you find the best position for your pleasure. “Keep rubbing that pretty pussy on me, baby, that’s it.”

You moan when a hand slides under your shirt and brushes against one of your nipples, Chan rolling the slowly hardening nub between his fingers. You feel yourself getting wet embarrassingly quick, and you knew you could cum like this. Chan has made you cum multiple times before just from clitoral stimulation alone, and dry humping was no exception to that.

You’re just about to ask if he was really going to let you cum, but then Chan pulls his thigh away, and the knot in your stomach disappears.

You groan for an entirely different reason now, upset at your orgasm being taken away from you. But Chan busies himself with tugging at your shirt until you get the idea and take it off, and he immediately latches his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking.

You suck in a breath through gritted teeth, pressing his head closer to your chest as he paid attention to both your nipples, licking and sucking and biting. You were getting uncomfortably wet now, your panties damp, and you convey this to Chan in hopes that he would speed things up.

You should have known that it would just spur him on.

“You wet for me already?” Chan asks once he stops marking your breasts, facing you with a grin.

You nod rapidly. “Yes, so if you could fuck m-”

“Ah,” Chan tuts, “let me feel first.”

You don’t even get a chance to protest because Chan’s hand is already disappearing, slipping under the waistband of your shorts and panties to slide two of his fingers between your folds. You jolt at the contact, moaning as he uses those two fingers to rub circles on your clit gently.

“Chan,” you moan and he hums distractedly, leaning down to suck more marks on your skin. He slips in a finger without warning, but since you were so wet and ready for him, you took his finger in easily.

Chan curses, testing the waters by slipping in a second finger slowly, and though there was a bit of a sting this time, his second finger slides in just as easily.

“God, baby, you’re soaking.”

Chan crooks his fingers, brushing against your g-spot almost immediately, making you jolt and whine. He picks up the pace, fingers fucking in and out you fast despite your underwear and shorts restricting most of his hand movement.

He comes up for a kiss, your mouth opening automatically for him to slip his tongue in. He groans into your mouth at your obedience, free hand gripping your jaw tight. He sucks on your tongue just as he adds a third finger, and you pull away to hiss.

Chan’s fingers were long and filled you up nicely, and with how he was rubbing at your g-spot insistently, it wasn’t long before you felt your orgasm climbing up again.

“I’m prepping you, but it looks like you don’t need it with how you’re sucking my fingers in, baby.” Chan shakes his head, playful disbelief coloring his tone. “Did you think about my cock in you all day? Wanted me to fuck you that bad?”

“Yeah, yes, I- ah,” you gasp, nodding at his words rapidly. Chan leans in to kiss you again, but you manage to stop him with a shaky hand pressed to his chest, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“You held up your end of the deal,” you whisper, already breathless, “it’s time I hold up mine.”

Chan’s eyes darken, and you squeak when he suddenly sits up on his knees, free hand yanking your shorts and underwear down in one swift motion. He leans back down to get the kiss you stopped at before, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and making you moan.

“But first,” Chan murmurs against your lips, voice leaving no room for discussion. “You cum for me now.”

Now that there was no clothing to restrict his hand movements, the pace of Chan’s fingers picked up faster, driving you crazy and making you squirm on the couch. Chan pins your hips down with his other hand so he could drive his fingers into you easily, and the wet sounds of his fingers thrusting inside your cunt was so lewd you felt yourself blushing.

It only takes a quick brush of Chan’s thumb against your clit to have your body snapping, trembling in Chan’s arms as your hole convulses against his fingers. Chan groans like he was the one having an orgasm, eyes appreciatively staring at the way your head was thrown back, chest heaving up and down.

Chan pulls his fingers out carefully, planning to just wipe them on his shirt, but then you make a noise, catching his attention. He looks up, confused, but then sees the way your gaze was trained on his fingers— which were slicked with your juices— and his cock got so hard, it started to hurt.

“Fuck, you’re filthy.” Chan whispers, but he brings his fingers up to your lips, letting you lick and suck to your heart’s content. Chan swallows as you look up at him through your lashes, cleaning his fingers thoroughly with long swipes of your tongue. For each glimpse he sees of the wet appendage around his finger, his dick jumps in his sweatpants.

You pull off slowly when you finish, eyes still locked with Chan’s. The both of you were breathing hard now, gazes intense as you stared each other down. At first, you felt like both the predator and the prey. Chan could destroy you with his fingers alone if he wanted to, but he was easy to fluster as well.

But then Chan tilts your head up with a single finger, leaning down to press a soft, slow kiss to your lips, a kiss so full of intent, lust and— love, that it leaves you breathless, eyes wide.

Chan lips quirk. “Bedroom?”

Saturday, 10:41 pm.

“Arch for me, baby.” Chan orders, breathless, hand smoothing down your lower back. You were truthfully too weak to hold yourself up already, mind numbed with pleasure, but you do your best, legs shaking with the effort to present yourself. But the pleased grumble that immediately comes out of Chan definitely makes the grueling position worth it.

You were both naked now, having shed Chan’s clothes as soon as you stumbled through the bedroom door, after you spent a good ten minutes just making out against it. Chan had shut the door with a quick kick, carrying you on the way to the bed even though it was only a few steps away.

But you didn’t complain, not when he dropped you in the middle and immediately manhandled you to your hand and knees, tugging your hips close to him with a grunt.

“That’s my good girl,” Chan leans down, whispering the words against the nape of your neck as the tip of his cock slid between your folds.

You start whining, because you were much more exposed in this position and you were being good but Chan wasn’t doing anything about it and you just wanted to be fucked. You convey your displeasure by pushing back against Chan’s cock, trying to get it to slip in you without his help.

“Want it inside, sweetheart? Hm?” Chan mumbles against your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe teasingly. “I can feel your greedy little hole twitching against me. Shit, you want it that bad?”

You nod rapidly, uncaring of how desperate you looked. Mostly because Chan liked that look on you. He liked knowing that you let your guard down around him, that nobody in the world could bring you to your knees and have you begging to be filled like he does.

Chan never explicitly shows how much he likes thinking that you belong to him, because he really does believe you’re your own person and not an object to be owned. But here, like this, with your throbbing pussy against this cock and your teary eyes pitifully looking up at him to do something, anything— it brought out a sense of possessiveness in Chan that he never knew he had.

These were the kind of feelings that only you could bring out of him. You were the only one who ever made him feel like this, and the rush of both excitement and fear over it admittedly has him going crazy at times.

But there’s nothing in the world he loves more than knowing you feel exactly the same.

He sees this in the way you tilt your head up, begging for a kiss. It has him breaking out of character, lips tugging up into a fond smile, since he’d planned to be mean and tease you for a bit. But he doesn’t resist when he leans down to kiss you, not when the urge is so strong. Especially not when your smile against his lips felt like the world’s most addicting drug.

Ah, how lucky was he to have fallen in love with you?

“Channie,” you hiccup once he pulls away, and he presses kisses down your shoulder, hiding a smile. This is why he could never be a hard dom with you. One kiss and he’s weak.

“Mhm, I got it, I got it. Just relax for me, yeah? I’ll fill you up real good, sweetheart. Just relax for me.” Chan soothes, pulling back to sit up on his knees.

He grabs a hold of his cock so he could line it up and push in, but then he can’t stop the groan that comes out his throat when the contact eases the pressure on his cock. He hasn’t been touched since you started, and with how wet you were when he pressed against you, he didn’t even need lube. His hand slid up and down easily.

You bit your lip. You were torn between enjoying the godly image of Chan jerking off to the sight of you bent over for him or finally enjoying the feeling of being filled up. Chan pleasuring himself was always a sight to see, veiny arms flexing every time his hand moved.

His eyes fluttered close, and your eyes greedily followed the line of his jaw and the long column of his throat, mouth dry with how much you wanted to suck marks on it.

But you were once again reminded why you can’t, and you were in this position for a reason.

“My end of the deal,” you start, catching your boyfriend’s attention, “was to let myself be fucked six ways to sunday.”

You pause, your hand sliding behind you to slip your own fingers into your soaking pussy. You moan when one finger slips right in, bright eyes meeting Chan’s dark ones.

“Should I have just done that myself?”

Nothing could have prepared you for the way Chan yanked your finger out, gaze hard as he locked both your arms behind you back. He was only holding your arms back with one of his hands, but the grip felt as tight as a rope.

You shiver in anticipation.

“Oh, don’t worry, baby.” Chan hisses, finally pushing his cock inside, easily slipping in with how wet and stretched you were from his fingers.

He moves slowly, determined to make you feel every inch and ridge and vein of his cock against your clenching walls. You squirm and gasp as he pushes and pushes, filling you up so well until his hips are finally flushed against your ass.

“I’ll fuck you so well you’ll feel it here,” he slides his free hand down to your lower stomach, pressing down until he almost feels his cock bulging in you, “and you’ll feel it until next weekend.”

Then he pulls back and thrusts inside again, this time slamming in hard.

You choke on a breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Chan goes in deep and fast. The position allowed him to reach inside you deeper than ever, and you almost swear you feel him in your stomach.

He finds your g-spot again in no time, knowing your body better than you do. You jerk in his hold when he does and a scream gets stuck in your throat, and the fact that you could feel Chan’s amusement from your reaction just made it even hotter. You had no time to breath from how hard and fast Chan was fucking you, let alone make a sound.

God, you loved it.

It’s what has you cumming in no more than three more thrusts, mouth gaping like a fish out of water as the knot in your stomach finally snapped. Chan seems to have noticed, given that you were clenching around him like crazy, and the laugh he lets out is so attractive that you feel yourself clench again.

“Aww, already, Y/N?” He teases, making you flush. He sounded smug, and you made a mental note to kick him for it later.

And though he seemed to have noticed your orgasm, Chan doesn’t stop. In fact, he shifts his position and somehow finds a way to push himself in deeper, forcefully pushing a long, drawn out moan from your throat. He makes you ride out your orgasm, eyes staring intently at the way his cock slid in out of you, covered in your juices.

“Shit, Channn,” you groan out his name, voice breaking as he continues to drive his cock into you. “I- ah, ah, Channie, please, I can’t-“

“You can,” Chan grunts out simply, as if he knew your core was already tightening for your second orgasm in a row.

You open your mouth again to plead— for him to stop or keep going? you didn’t know— but then Chan slows down, and you finally manage to suck in the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Keeping his cock in you, Chan lets go of your arms, both of his hands now sliding under your torso to pull you up. You gasp at the sudden change in position, now sitting back on your knees as Chan’s arm wrapped snugly around your waist.

“Fuck,” Chan grunts in your ear, inhaling through gritted teeth as he thrusts into you again properly. His fingers trail down your hips and up your stomach, hands brushing up and down your skin like he was mapping it out. It tickled, and with every brush of Chan’s hand against a sensitive part of your body, you clench.

He moans lowly, the sound right by your ear and making you shiver. “You open up so well for me. You always do. So perfect for me, beautiful.”

Chan presses heated kisses on your shoulder, hands now gripping your waist tight so he could position you in a way that was pleasurable for both of you. When Chan’s lips trail higher, you subconsciously bear your neck to him, making him smile.

“Please,” you breathe out, your eyes stinging from the almost painful knot in your stomach, back so soon even though you’ve just calmed down.

“Again.” Chan exhales against your ear, hips picking up that demonic pace again. “Cum for me again.”

You moan, nodding mindlessly as Chan pulls you back onto his cock at the same time he thrusts forward. His big cock fills you up in all the right places, brushing against your sweet spot constantly and driving you crazy each time.

Since you were now being held up by Chan himself, you didn’t know what to do with your hands at this point, nails digging into your palms and creating indents.

But Chan, as attentive as ever even when he’s fucking you into oblivion, notices your hand situation and guides your arms upwards, pushing them back until your hands tangle in his hair instead.

The new position worked well for the both of you, because your back was arched to accommodate your arms, and Chan could drive his cock in that good kind of deep again.

Chan’s grunts by your ear just get you even hotter, along with his hisses every time you clench around him. He murmurs dirty praises in your ear, telling you over and over again how good your cunt felt around him and how you were taking him so well and how he’d love nothing more to be buried in you forever, so you’d never feel empty again.

The last straw is when his free hand comes up to your neck, fingers closing around your jaw so he could tilt your head up. You gasps noisily at that, tugging on his hair in surprise. You and Chan have talked about choking before, and though he wasn’t really cutting off your air, the feeling of his hand around your throat was more than enough to get you locking up around him.

Chan coos, lips brushing against your cheek as he talked you towards your orgasm. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Let me feel you cream around my cock again,” he grunts, pushing through the tight vice-like grip your walls had around him, “Come on, gorgeous. Let me feel it. Want you to cum for me again.”

You sob out Chan’s name, unaware of the tears slipping down your cheeks as you squeezed your eyes shut and came for the second time in a matter of minutes. It was too fast, too sudden, still too sensitive from your last orgasm—

—and it was everything you ever wanted.

Chan immediately slows down when you start spasming around him, letting you ride out your orgasm slowly this time. He continues to murmur praises in your ear, pressing open mouthed kisses on the shoulder nearest to him.

You’re hiccuping and gasping his name, fingers tugging on his hair desperately. You were so lost in pleasure that you don’t notice him slowly pulling out and sitting back on his knees, pulling you back with him. He untangles your hands from his hair gently, and your arms limp at your sides now that you’re slumped over.

Chan brushes your hair back from your sweaty face when your head lolls back, and you easily accept the searing kiss that he presses on your lips. Though you were barely kissing back, breathing too hard to move your lips, you refused to let him pull away.

Chan’s kisses were like air for you during times like this, and you drink them in greedily.

“You were so good for me.” Chan praises once he pulls away, eyes bright as he stares down at you lovingly, thumb brushing against the tear tracks on your cheeks. “My good girl.”

Slipping an arm under your knees, he rearranges your positions so you could lie down on the middle of the bed. Chan lies on his side next to you, one hand propping his head up while the other hand intertwines with yours, squeezing every few seconds.

You were in a limbo, somewhere between still being conscious of your surroundings and feeling floaty, but Chan’s murmured praises and constant touches bring you back to the ground fully.

“Good?” Chan asks, sounding genuine, but you catch the smug look in his eyes.

You laugh quietly in response, eyes rolling good-naturedly, hand coming up to punch him playfully. Chan grins wide, leaning down so he could press a sweet kiss to your lips.

And when he pulls away, he brings your intertwined hands up to his face so he could place a kiss on the back of your hand too. You shudder from the sudden wave of affection going through you, feeling so lucky to be taken care of by someone as caring as Chan.

But. There was one issue.

“Channie,” you exhale, shifting to your side so you could plaster your sweaty body close to his, burying your face in his neck and breathing in his scent.

“Hmm?” He lets go of your hand so he could tuck your hair behind your ear, wanting to see your face.

“You didn’t-“ you start, indicating to the hard-on pressed against your thigh. You hear the breath he sucks in when you grind against it, but then there’s a hand stopping your hips from moving any more.

“We don’t have to.” Chan reassures, referring to your fucked out state as nicely as he could. It made you chuckle, until— “I already made you cry, anyway.”

You swat at his stomach, making him groan and laugh at the same time. He falls back onto the mattress, giggling as he shielded his torso away from your hands.

He was right, though. Your legs were already shaking, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how sore you would be tomorrow. Not to mention the different bite marks around your body. You look like you’ve just been mauled by a wild animal.

But—

“I want more.” You whine softly, knowing it got to Chan whenever you vocalized what you wanted. You crawl up his body slowly, watching as he licked his lips. You hips lower, sitting right on Chan’s cock and grinding, and you relish in the way his teeth grits.

You lean down, letting your lips brush against his ear before whispering, “Want you to cum in me.”

“Shit,” Chan curses, hands coming up to catch your hips in a bruising grip, halting your movements again. He was definitely holding back for your sake, but you didn’t want that. You had a deal to uphold.

“Come on, daddy.” You purr in his ear, grinning when he tenses again. “Don’t you want to fuck me full of your cum?”

You squeak when Chan flips your positions, him now on top of you and your arms pinned above your head. You breathe heavily, watching as his glazed eyes rake over your marked form, like he was taking you in. Carving the way you look into his memories.

He leans down then, arms caging the sides of your head. “You drive me crazy.” He admits, voice fond despite his heated look, and you blush all the way to the tip of your ears.

“Crazy enough for you to fuck me into the mattress?” You ask, voice tilting up hopefully as you flush, but you’re cut off by your own moan when Chan suddenly spreads your legs and ducks down, tongue licking a fat stripe up your slit.

“Fuck!” You gasp at the sudden attack to your sensitive pussy, head throwing back and hands immediately coming down to grip Chan’s hair. “You- what are you- oh, fuck me.”

You could feel the puffs of breath against your clit as Chan laughed, and you hit him on the back using your foot, annoyed that he was laughing as you lost your mind. He ignores you, swirling and flicking his tongue around the sensitive nub, before continuing to dip his tongue inside you.

The moan he lets out rivals your own, and you gasp as Chan eats pussy like he’s a starved man and it's his first meal, the slurping noises he makes sounding lewd even to your own ears.

You chant his name like a prayer, squirming on the bed as you tug on his hair hard. That only serves to make him moan, which in turn also made you clench again.

“Baby,” you sob, “please. If I don’t get your cock in me, I’ll- I- please.”

Chan finally lets up at that, pressing one last kiss to your swollen clit before he kisses his way up your body.

“Yeah? You need it?” He asks, breathless, but it was clear he wasn’t waiting for an answer. He must be as worked up as you are, because there was no more teasing this time, and you gasp when you feel the head of his cock brushing against your slit.

“What the hell was that,” you demand, voice clipped because Chan was pushing inside you again, testing the waters with miniscule thrusts. You jerk each time.

“Wanted you to shut up.” Chan chuckles, but he’s cut off by his own groan when he feels your hot, velvety walls clamp around him in response. He sucks in a deep breath, feeling how wet you were from both your juices and his spit.

“Shit, baby, how are you still so tight?” Chan sighs contentedly, pressing open mouthed kisses to your cheek. He’s got his upper arms on either side of your head, and you’re so close together that your breasts press against his chest, making you jolt with every brush of your nipples against his pecs. “You fit my cock so well, got me so hard-“

“It’s cause- ah, I’m made for you, shit, right there-” you slur mindlessly, head thrown back from the pleasure as Chan drove straight into your g-spot again and again. The way he hit it so precisely each time should have freaked you out, but you were far too out of your mind with pleasure to think about it.

Chan’s hips falter at the words.

“What did you say, baby? Say that again.” Chan demands, sounding desperate, and you gather all the strength you had left to pick your head up and look up at him. With how close you were, you were pressed nose to nose, Chan leaning down even further so your forehead pressed together. You meet eyes, and you shudder at the intensity of his gaze, suddenly looking much more animalistic than before. Ah.

Bullseye.

“Was made for you.” You murmur again, clearer now, arms coming up to wrap around Chan’s shoulders for leverage as he used you to get to his own orgasm. “I take your cock well because you’ve ruined me for anybody else, Chan,” you admit, eyes shaking. “Nobody’s ever— ever going to make me feel like this. Like you do- oh, fuck!”

You feel Chan bristling at the mention of someone else, and despite your fuzzy mind, you rush to placate him. “I’m yours, baby. Just yours.” you swear, cupping his cheek and forcing him to focus his gaze on you. You needed him to understand. “Any way you want. All of me. I’m all yours.”

Chan’s hips stutter, and he leans down to press your mouths together again. He’s moving too much to have your lips locked in a proper kiss, but he nibbles your lips, breathing heavily as he whispers, “Mine.” over and over again against your jaw.

Your legs come up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking behind him. The pleasure and pain was so blurred that it was making you tear up again, but you pull him closer and beg him to go harder.

There’s a certain urgency to his thrusts now, more frantic and more desperate now that he’s let himself go, and you relish in his unrestrained groans and moans mixing with your own.

“Y/N,” he calls, voice guttural, and just the sounds of his fucked out voice saying your name has you tightening immediately again, making both you and Chan gasp. “Shit, baby, wait, I’m close- where-“

“Inside.” You beg, now nose to nose to Chan as he leaned his forehead on top of yours, eyes searching frantically. “Inside. I told you earlier, didn’t I?”

Chan groans, a loud and raw sound that vibrates against your chest, especially when he ducks his head down to the side so you were cheek to cheek now. You feel his teeth nip at your earlobe, low moans loud in your ear as his thrusts get more sloppy and uncoordinated.

“Y/N, are you-“

“I’m sure, Chan.” You turn your head, and your lips brush against his ear when you beg, “cum inside me. I want to feel it, want you to fuck your cum back into me. Please.”

Chan grunts, cock pulsing inside you at the thought. He was so close— teetering right at the edge as you continued to clench around him and whisper filthy things in his ear.

The last straw is when you tug his head back just in time, forcibly making your gazes meet when you whisper,

“Please, baby. Remind me that I’m yours.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, teeth grinding together as he finally stills and pumps his cum into you. The first spurt has you gasping noisily, clutching onto Chan tightly as he fills you up. You maintain eye contact for one glorious moment, but Chan’s eyes eventually flutter shut due to the overwhelming pleasure. You watch as his head lolls back, throat working out grunts and moans, complete bliss on his face.

The look is what triggers your fourth and final orgasm; dry and painfully, painfully good.

When he picks his head back up, your lips meet in a bruising kiss, tongues sliding against each other and teeth clacking as you both ride out your orgasm, him milking his cock inside you.

If you were filled before, you were bursting at the seams now.

Chan doesn’t pull out for a couple of minutes, the both of you catching your breath. But when he does finally pull out you immediately hiss, clearly oversensitive.

You clench unconsciously, but it’s no use, because you’re already shuddering from the feeling of Chan’s cum trailing out your hole.

Chan swallows, eyes staring intently at the way you clenched and unclenched with his cum dripping out of you, and he curses when his spent dick gives an interested twitch.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you croak out, shaking as you stretch your legs out. “If you so much as touch me right now, I might pass out.”

Chan’s lips quirk at the playfulness in your tone, but he knew there was some truth to your words. So he asks you if he can go get something to clean you up, only moving when you give him a clear response of yes. He’s back with a clean, damp cotton towel a minute later, as well as a bottle of water.

You groan in thanks when he makes you drink, patiently waiting until you’re finished to call your attention.

“Baby,” he calls, and you turn your head to face him. He holds the towel up as a form of a question, and you sigh, knowing it was better than nothing. You weren’t in any position to shower right now.

“Be careful, pl-“

“Shh.” Chan smoothes, starting by rubbing a thumb on your thigh. You were so high-strung that even that simple touch startled you, but Chan takes his sweet time and doesn’t rush you, distracting you with kisses every time you spasm.

He finishes cleaning you up soon enough, doing all the work and refusing to let you lift even a finger. You end up cuddled together after, just basking in each other’s warmth and your post-orgasm glows.

Sex with Chan was always amazing, because no matter how slow or how hard and fast you two went, it always ended in sweet kisses and cuddling. Chan never takes his hands off you, not even for a second, always attentive to your needs and wants. You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the whole wide world.

In the background, a phone pings, jolting you out of your daze.

“Babe,” Chan calls when he unlocks his phone, chuckling under his breath. “I really did fuck you six ways to sunday.”

You prop your head up on his arm, peering up at his phone lazily. The first thing you see is a picture of you on the lockscreen, taken from when you were napping on his studio couch. The second thing you see is the time and date.

Sunday, 1:34 am.

You snort, turning away from the harsh glare of his phone to bury your face in his bicep. “That wasn’t even six. That was like— three. Or four at most. I don’t know. I blacked out.”

Chan snickers, locking his phone and tossing it on the nightstand. He’ll deal with the notifications tomorrow. For now...

He turns back to you, lips tugging into a smirk as he trails the tip of his fingers down your back, making you shudder.

“Wanna make it six, then? We still have time.”

You immediately yelp, slapping his hand away and rolling off him. You wiggle under the covers, tucking it around you to shield your body away from Chan’s hands.

“Are you crazy?! I can’t even feel my lower half!” You squawk, glaring at him from where you’re peeking behind the covers.

Chan laughs, that squeaky loud laugh you love that has his whole body shaking and eyes crinkling. He crawls over to you and nuzzles his face on top of your head, giggles pressing against your hair.

“Babyyy,” he whines, still laughing. “Let me in. I’m cold.”

You narrow your eyes at him playfully. “What will you trade me?”

Chan’s eyebrows wiggle. “Your blanket for my body.”

You groan in disgust, turning your body away from your laughing boyfriend. Chan usually thinks he’s soooo hilarious, and he believes you do too.

Hiding, you bite back a smile.

“Yah,” he complains now, wrapping his lanky limbs around your burrito looking form from behind. “Come out already. I wanna cuddle.”

You wiggle out the covers soon enough, because you truthfully wanted to cuddle too, and plus, Chan’s pecs were nice to lie on. He welcomes you in his arms easy, huffing out a laugh when you smooch one of his pecs lovingly.

“I’m kinda hungry.” You admit after a few minutes, making Chan groan in disbelief.

“You’re insatiable. There’s no end to that stomach, is there?” Chan asks rhetorically, and you open your mouth to answer because you want to annoy him, but Chan catches you before you could. His hand comes up to cover your mouth, though his hand was so big that he ends up covering your nose as well. “Nope. Shut up. Quiet now.”

You laugh behind his hand, squirming and struggling until he finally relents when you lick his palm. And as if he didn’t just fuck his cum into you earlier, Chan scrunches his face and says, “Gross.”

You scoff. “You fuck me well into the next day and you’re expecting me not to get hungry?!”

“But this kitchen is so far,” Chan whines, even though you didn’t really ask him to get food for you. You’re just about to tell him that, when he adds, “-but fine. I’ll miss you for all the time that it takes you to get food.”

Chan flops back on the bed, eyes shut and clearly expecting you to leave. You squawk, pretending to be offended and swatting at his chest. “You’re just going to let your girlfriend go out into the night like that?! When I can’t even walk?!”

Chan opens one eye, amused. “The night is just 15 steps away.”

“Fine.” you huff, scooting back to your position. You drop your head down on Chan’s chest-- hard-- making him yelp. “I wasn’t even that hungry anyway. And we don’t even have food.”

He laughs, hand automatically finding its way to your hair. “I’ll get you whatever you want tomorrow, I promise. We’ll get brunch on the way to getting groceries, okay? How about that?”

You sniffle. “I want chicken.”

Chan rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind it, just fondness. “Then we’ll get chicken.”

“‘kay.”

You sigh happily, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of Chan’s fingers carding through your hair. His pecs were the perfect pillows, and combined with your post-sex exhaustion and Chan’s warmth, you were sure you were about to fall sleep. Dreamland was one step away, and you’re just about to fall into the waiting arms of a deep sleep when suddenly--

Chan’s stomach growls. Loud.

You burst out laughing, body curling up and shaking as you turn to Chan, who was hiding his face behind his arms in embarrassment.

“And I’m the insatiable one?”

“Not one word.” Chan huffs, refusing to meet your eyes as he grabs some clothes to throw at you. They land on your face, a move you knew was deliberate because you were still giggling.

Chan was the cutest when he was flustered, and even in the dim lighting of your room, you could see how red his ears were.

So you both bundle up— in only a few articles of clothing since it was an unusually hot night— just for the sake of looking decent. Chan wiggles in some sweatpants, and you slip on his shirt and boxers.

When you get up from the bed, Chan-- ever the gentleman that he is-- genuinely panics when you flail due to your legs buckling, and his arms are around you holding you up before you could even blink.

“You really can’t walk?” Chan asks, sounding hilariously horrified.

“No-” you laugh, “don’t look so scared. You didn’t break me, idiot. I can definitely still walk, just let me get used to it.”

But Chan seemed to think otherwise, because suddenly, your feet are off the ground and you’re being carried bridal style. You yelp, arms coming up to lock around Chan’s neck so you don’t fall.

“What.” This is the second time you’ve been carried to the kitchen in under a day, courtesy of your muscly boyfriend who seemed to think picking people up was something you can do casually.

“It’d take too long. I’m hungry.” Chan huffs, and you roll your eyes, amused. Chan could be a baby when he was hungry, and this was evident in how he rummages through the fridge with little huffs after he sets you down.

“There’s nothing to eat.” He sighs, as if the both of you didn’t already know that.

You groan, leaning against the counter. “I’m pretty sure we have ice cream?”

“That’s not very healthy.” Chan frowns, but opens the freezer door anyway and grabs the tub when he sees it.

You only turn around for a second to get a spoon, but when you face Chan again, he’s already sitting cross-legged on the floor, brows furrowed as he attempts to use the lid to scoop out some ice cream. You huff out a breath, exasperated and fond at the same time.

He looks up at the sound, then grins when you meet eyes. He opens his arms then, beckoning you over, and you carefully sit between his legs. Chan shifts a little bit to the side, hooking his chin on your shoulder. You move your hair to the other side so it won’t bother Chan, and he presses a quick peck to your now exposed cheek in thanks.

You yelp when Chan places the icy tub on your bare thighs, then glare when he just giggles. Chan’s shirt was huge on you, so he pulled it over your knees, giving the tub of ice cream a blanket of sorts to sit on and sparing your thighs.

Then, he takes the spoon from your hand, stabbing it through the iced treat with all the strength of a man who works out.

It barely pokes through. The ice cream was too frozen.

But you still wow exaggeratedly in an attempt to boost his ego, squealing when Chan digs his free hand on your side and tickles you. The spoon still gets a tiny, tiny bit of ice cream though, and you hate that you still blush when Chan feeds it to you.

“I think we have to wait for this to melt.” Chan says, blowing on the tub. Your eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, giggling.

“Why are you blowing on it, then?”

“Why am I- oh.”

You laugh at the dumbstruck expression on Chan’s face, finally realizing he was unconsciously blowing on frozen ice cream. Your laugh echoes throughout the apartment, and it’s only at that moment that you realized how quiet it was. The refrigerator hums beside you two, but other than that and some cars passing by outside, it was complete silence.

You realize how dark it was too, the only light sources coming from the refrigerator, and your bedroom.

“Shouldn’t we turn on the light?” You ask, and Chan looks up from where he’s violently stabbing the ice cream.

“Eh. Fridge works. Plus it’s hot, so I’m not closing this.” Chan shrugs, then pauses when he sees the look on your face. He chuckles, pulling you closer to him by the waist. “Don’t be scared, baby. I’m right here, remember?”

“I’m not scared,” you scoff, but scoot closer to Chan anyway.

The ice cream eventually melts enough for the spoon to dig in, and you and Chan take turns feeding each other. Chan had his back against some drawers, while you were tucked between Chan’s legs, head on his shoulder and ice cream tub on your stomach. The condensation was wetting your shirt and making the cold seep to your stomach, but you didn’t mind. You were too comfortable to move.

Chan was making a habit of kissing you after he fed you a spoon, and you liked the feeling of his cold lips tasting like strawberries more than you’d like to admit. Some tongue slips in after a while, but it doesn’t go any further than that, both of you too exhausted.

The dim light of the fridge casts a yellowish hue on yours and Chan’s lower halves, creating shadows. You play with that for a moment, wiggling your legs and making shadow puppets of animals with your hands. Chan watches you silently, so silent that you think for a moment that he’d fallen asleep.

But then he drops the spoon into the tub— and all while keeping his other arm around your waist— reaches a hand out to the light so it creates a shadow, and shapes his hand into…

...half of a heart.

You grin stupidly, and the way your heart rattles inside your chest shouldn’t be normal. At all. You had to get checked out. This was the type of cheesy things Chan loved to do daily, yet you reacted to each and every one of them like it’s his first time doing so.

He loved leaving heart doodles on the whiteboard by the fridge that had your schedules in it, particularly hearts that were next to your name. He dedicates songs to you, writes about you, and even sings to you when you want him to. He stops by the practice room when he knows you’re inside, slipping in quickly to say hello and kiss your forehead, uncaring of the loud teasing from trainees.

But if you couldn’t say hello, if you were in the middle of something, he always, always made sure to leave a heart on the mirrors that were fogged up from intense dancing. Sometimes it would just be a heart, sometimes it was a doodle. Other times it was a message like; good luck, or see you at lunch, or hey sexy with a winking face.

Most of the time, it’s three simple words.

I love you, it would read.

“Yah,” Chan complains, jolting you out of your sappy stupor. “Are you going to leave me hanging?”

He’s frowning now, wiggling the little half heart around impatiently. You grin at that, muttering about how he was being a baby and making him huff. But then you finally reach forward, painfully aware of how your heart jumped from doing this one simple action.

You complete the heart, and you both watch the shadow that it forms.

Chan sighs happily, turning his head to press a quick, cold kiss to your cheek. You knew the heart wasn’t going to stay for long, since your arms would get tired, but Chan doesn’t break the heart to pull away.

Instead, he intertwines your fingers, letting the shadow from some weird version of your hands together, and it’s only then that he brings your hands back. You grin as you lean back against him again, Chan wrapping both arms around your waist and kissing the top of your head.

At 2:04 am, you sit with Chan on the kitchen floor, the refrigerator both illuminating and cooling your bodies, empty ice cream tub beside you.

2:08 am, Chan carries you back to your bedroom. Not because you couldn’t walk still, but because he loved the feeling of you in his arms, head tucked safely into the crook of his neck.

2:09 am, you and Chan slip under the covers, and you giggle when he scolds you about kicking off the blanket in your sleep. You placate him with a kiss and a promise to keep him warm.

And at 2:16 am on a Sunday, after a couple more kisses and hushed sweet nothings, you end up with your ear pressed against Chan’s chest, the beating of his heart combined with his quiet breathing lulling you sleep.

Chan stays awake for a couple minutes more, ensuring you were comfortable and finally resting. He wraps his around you when you shift in your sleep, hand automatically cupping the back of your head. Keeping you close, right where his heart was. He knew you weren’t going anywhere, but every second with you was something he knew he had to treasure.

“Y/N,” he sighed, burying his face in your hair. “I love you. So much. Too much, I think. Sometimes I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.” he pauses, swallowing. “Honestly… just saying it doesn’t feel enough anymore. How can I show you I love you? At this point, I want to grab every person in the street and list out all the reasons why.”

He snorts at the mental image, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. “That sounds a bit crazy, isn’t it? I have an infinite number of reasons… so if I do that to every single person, how long would that take me? Huh. Should I really do the math on that?” he pauses, then: “God, even in your sleep you’re driving me crazy.”

You murmur something in your sleep, catching his attention. You were mumbling nonsense, but when his hand cups your cheek, you quiet down.

Smiling wistfully, he adds, “but... I don’t care. Really, Y/N, I’ll give you all my love if it means staying like this with you forever.”

Pressing one last kiss to your forehead, Chan finally gets comfortable and closes his eyes.

He’s much more vulnerable when he knows you’re asleep because he’d be too flustered if you replied, but the responding snore you give him a few seconds later makes him laugh again. Maybe you were unconsciously trying to respond to him, maybe you were just really deep in dreamland.

Either way, Chan falls asleep with a smile on his face, and the love of his life in his arms.

Sunday, 12:47 pm.

The brunch Chan had promised turns into a late lunch, because by the time you both woke up the next-- the same?-- day, it was already quarter past noon.

True to your predictions last night, you were sore. Chan runs you a hot bath, genuinely looking worried now, but you assure him that it wasn’t something that a few painkillers couldn’t fix. But he still looked uneasy, so you raised an eyebrow.

“What, you’re gonna regret the way you fucked me until I cried?”

Chan turns as red as a tomato, and you laugh as he spins on his heel and leaves you in the bathroom, shouting something about getting the medicine.

It did hurt, but you kind of liked it, considering the reason why you were sore. Chan frowns and questions why you were red in the face when he gets back, worried you were getting a fever, but you just flush even more and shoo him away.

When you get out of the bath, the first thing that greets you is the smell of chicken. Chan must have ordered while you bathed, and your heart warms at the thought of your boyfriend remembering your hunger and craving for chicken.

That is, until you find Chan on the couch already munching on a drumstick. He looks up at you in alarm when you walk in, face guilty.

“God, you’re insatiable.” You mock with your best impression of Chan’s voice, and the attempt makes him laugh too much to be mad about it.

You gorge yourselves on chicken and soda, some reruns of an anime you both love playing on the TV. You’re barely paying attention, more focused on the fan you had turned on blowing cool air on your face and the feeling of Chan massaging your feet.

You don’t even notice that you drifted off, jolting awake to the sound of an explosion coming from the TV. You must have been asleep for a while, because the table was clear of any takeout boxes and soda cans. At that moment, Chan comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered. He smiles when he sees you squinting at him, disoriented and half awake.

“Come on, baby. Time to get groceries.”

You didn’t bother to dress up much, considering it was hot out and you were not about to put fashion first and experience a possible heat stroke. So you steal another one of Chan’s shirts, ignoring his half-hearted protests.

He had plenty of other shirts. He could use those.

Chan gives you a look when you come bounding out of the bedroom in his shirt, but you knew he liked his clothes on you. The pink tinging his cheeks was more than enough proof. Plus, you had a diversion.

“Help me?” You ask, and Chan tilts his head, confused. But then you bring out a box, velvet and rectangular and blue.

It was the box that holds the necklace Chan gifted you for your birthday, and considering your profession, you couldn’t wear it everyday, hating the thought of it being drenched in sweat or god forbid, breaking while you dance.

So you wear it on your off days, keeping it in the box most of the time to be safe. Chan chuckles, smiling stupidly as he takes the necklace out the box, snorting when you scold him to be careful with it.

“Alright, alright. Just turn around, will you?” You huff, but turn around obediently, moving your hair away so Chan could do it easily. The cool metal of the necklace settling against your neck has you shivering, but so does the soft kiss that Chan presses on your exposed nape and shoulder. The pendant— a compass— sits between your collarbones, and you hold it between your fingers gently, feeling giddy.

Chan watches you with a soft smile for a few seconds, taking you in. It’s only when he notices the time that he regretfully bursts your bubble, grabbing your attention with a kiss to your cheek and taking your free hand in his.

“Ready?” he asks, eyes shining, and your heart flutters.

“Yeah.” You smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Let’s go.”

And though your diversion had worked for a moment, you knew yourself that it wouldn’t last. Chan still complains as you walk down the street, intertwined hands swinging between you, talking about how he had nothing to wear.

“You should just walk around shirtless then.” You suggest, winking, and you barely manage to stop an embarrassing shriek when Chan pretends to trip you. There was no way you were going to fall though, because Chan had a tight grip on your arms, but you still punch him on the shoulder for it.

Chan reacts dramatically, exaggerating his yelp of pain, as if he didn’t have hard muscle surrounding his entire body. You roll your eyes, leaving him on the sidewalk, ignoring his calls of your name mixed with his laughter.

You laugh and stumble on the way to the grocery store like idiots, and the time it took for you to get there probably took twice the time than it originally would, with how much you two were goofing off. But you do eventually get there in one piece, albeit breathless and giggly.

You guys had no specific routine for grocery shopping, just that there was a limit to snacks, and it was 5 for each of you. No more than that.

(This rule is usually never followed, but you guys keep it and remind each other of it at the entrance, just for the sake of acting like you were responsible adults who could control their cravings and knew how to stick to their budget.)

Thus, grocery shopping with you was always an experience, because you and Chan were both very passionate about food and would sometimes have different opinions. It would end in tiny fights, but it gets resolved just as quickly as it starts.

Either Chan relents because you looked cute and he secretly wants it, or you relent because Chan looked cute and you secretly want it.

So more often than not, other shoppers would find two people disputing in the middle of some aisle, and it’s just the two of you hissing back and forth about the pros and cons of a certain product.

Like now.

“We don’t eat that cereal. You don’t even like how it tastes.”

“You don’t like how it tastes. I ate the entire bag when we last bought this.”

Chan raises an eyebrow. “And did you do that willingly?”

“Well, no, but-” You stomp your foot, frustrated. All the tantrum does is bring a smile to Chan’s face, which wasn’t what you wanted. You weren’t being cute. You needed him to understand. “Ah, you know I don’t like wasting food!”

“So, why, pray tell, do you want to buy that?”

“Because-” you start, and Chan flicks his gaze down to the cereal in your hands, confused. But then you turn the box around and-

Ah.

“Look,” you point at the bowl stuck on the back of the box, grinning excitedly. “They have an ugly black cat now.”

Simply put, the box that you were holding was a brand of cereal that was for kids, and the taste of the actual cereal was too medicine-y for you and Chan. However, the sole reason you had bought one before is because of the freebie the cereal came with, a small plastic bowl with a white cat painted on it.

To be honest, the cat was kind of ugly and terrifying looking, but you were drawn to it for inexplicable reasons. Chan, who was unknowing of the taste of the cereal at that time, simply nodded and let you take the box home.

The cereal itself was crossed out from the very first taste, but you’ve both grown fond of the ugly white cat bowl, sometimes using it for non-cereal things.

(Like wine, after a long, long day at work. It typically consists of the bowl being passed back and forth between you two, instead of just chugging the entire bottle down like animals. You both had too much class for that.)

Chan sighs exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. But your excitement was infectious, and he finds himself smiling at the ugly little thing too.

Still, he tries to be the responsible adult and reasons, “you’re already 3 snacks past the limit. Plus, don’t we already have a bowl at home?”

“I know we do! But look at this black cat, Channie. Ugly White Cat can get a friend, plus if we get another bowl, that means we can match. Matching ugly cat bowls.” You explain, holding the box up to his face and wiggling it. “Think about it.”

And Chan did think about it for a moment. You really didn’t need another bowl, having plenty enough for the two of you and possible guests, but the prospect of matching with you…

And ugly white cat did look kind of lonely...

Fuck. He was getting too weak for this. You look at him with wide eyes, pleading and seemingly innocent, but you knew what effect that had on him.

He sighs, but there’s a smile on his face when he grumbles. “Fine.”

You cheer, pressing a long kiss to his cheek before you scramble away again, mentioning something about juice boxes.

Chan watches you skip down the aisle, grinning at the way your arms clutched the cereal box close to your chest, as if someone was going to take it away from you. He watches until you reach the end, crouching down at the selection of juice boxes.

He knew you took your juice box selection very seriously, evident in the way you were frowning and reading label packages. You looked kind of ridiculous, Chan’s old shirt bunched around your waist and a cereal box with some toy for kids tucked in your arms.

His shirt, which was entirely too big for you, starts sliding down your shoulders due to your crouched position. This reveals your neck, and he flushes when he sees memories of last night blooming on your skin.

And even from this distance, he sees the necklace and the way it glints, making you look much more ethereal.

After a few seconds, you apparently read something you didn’t like, because your head snaps up suddenly, catching Chan’s attention just so you could point at a box and make a disgusted face.

Chan laughs, despite not knowing what the hell you just pointed to. But you seem to be satisfied by his response, because you grace him with the prettiest smile, the one that he loved among your many other smiles— the one that makes your eyes crinkle and your cheeks bigger.

Chan’s breath catches in his throat at the sight. Something in his heart sings.

He loves you. He was so in love with you that it hurt, and he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life by your side. To sleep with you, wake up with you, argue about groceries in pajamas with you, have matching ugly cat bowls with you, and come home with you— all of that. Always.

So when you turn back to your juice boxes, Chan hurriedly pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contact list quickly and tapping the call button on a familiar name.

Chan and you meet eyes again when you hold up two juice boxes of different flavors for him to pick. He knows immediately that you picked the orange one because he likes it, but Chan also knows that you couldn’t stand the orange flavor. So he tilts his head to the right, choosing apple.

You blink in surprise, but he could tell you were trying to hide the fact that you were giddy he picked apple. He smiles softly, heart singing again.

On his phone, the call he made finally picks up on the fifth ring.

“Hey, Bin? You busy? No, no, we’re fine. Yeah, I just-- remember the jewellery shop we went to last month? Do you still have their address? Yeah, that one. I threw mine out because I didn’t want Y/N to suspect anything.”

A pause, then he snorts, “I’m aware I just bought her a necklace, yes. But I’m not buying a necklace this time. Really. Yeah, um. Well, I think I—�� Chan swallows, eyes nervously going back to you.

You had both the cereal and juice box in your arms now, seemingly on your way back to Chan, but then you get distracted by free samples of cheese. You pretend to reject the offer for a moment, but falter in your step when the saleslady tries again. Chan snorts softly when you take five samples unashamedly, heart singing louder.

Will you wait for me? / Of course. You know I always will.

You were the only one who ever made him feel like this.

Honestly… just saying it doesn’t feel enough anymore. How can I show you I love you?

I’ll give you all my love if it means staying like this with you forever.

Your eyes meet again. You’ve balanced the plate of cheese on top of your boxes, face looking all too proud and excited as you gestured to the cheese, beckoning him over. He nods, indicating he’ll be there, and you go back to talking animatedly with the saleslady.

“Hyung?” Changbin’s voice on the other line calls, waiting for him to continue. “You think...?”

“Ah, no… I’m sure.” Chan smiles giddily, heart now creating symphonies in his chest. He’s never been more sure in his life.

All of this. Always.

“A ring. I’m buying a ring.”

#bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #stray kids imagines #bang chan imagines #stray kids smut #storiesatsea #me: scared of commitment #also me: indicates a wedding in 2/4 of my fics #chan i have feelings for u #stray kids #bang chan as a boyfriend #stray kids as boyfriends #stray kids fluff #stray kids au #skz au #skz imagines

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kiridarling · 3 years

Text

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

request | Can I have royalty au (soon to be king bakugou) (and soon to be queen reader) , katsuki and reader are supposed to be getting married (not to eachother) but they end up sneaking around and doing IT with eachother so top!kats , exhibition , begging , dumbification and spanking THANK YOU💞💞

this lovely request was submitted for the kissing booth event (the rest of the drabbles come out soon, ahem :)) so, if this was your request, um...hAHA whoops.

katsuki bakugou | f!reader, royalty!au, infidelity, nondescript!fiancés, angst (gasp), fingering, exhibitionism, dumbification + more! minors dni!

— 3.7k words

“C'mon, princess...can I make you feel good once last time?

You're getting married.

No more ignorance is bliss, no more I didn't know any better—this is when you put all your childish antics to the side and fucking woman up, now in charge of the safety of your kingdom and its inhabitants and whatnot. So yes, you must snuff all your adolescent tendencies, and that includes sleeping with the Crowned Prince of the neighboring kingdom behind your fiancé's backs.

But, boys are stubborn. And stupid.

Ding ding ding!

"Excuse me, Everyone!" Your fiancé announces to the crowd in your dining room as he stumbles to his feet, spoon clinking against his glass. He nearly trips, but no one sees except yourself. "I would like to make a toast."

You frown. This wasn't a part of the rehearsal dinner.

"First of all, I would like to thank you all for being able to be with us tonight," he says, shoving the glass higher in the air. As red wine splashes over the rim, you think to remind him that isn't a toast, it's the beginning of a speech, but your comments have rarely deterred the man in the past. "As you’re all aware, this marriage is vital. Not only for our kingdom, but for the neighboring kingdom as well."

Your fiancé regards the Bakugou’s with a lift of his chalice. In the coming weeks, two arranged marriages will melt the four most influential kingdoms into two, and your fiancé and his family had the genius to throw a massive Gala to celebrate it. You wouldn’t be surprised if they got off to the idea of stretching themselves so thin their hair falls out at age thirty; they won’t even allow you to choose the type of dress for your wedding.

"I would also like to thank my lovely, lovely wife, for just being so... lovely.” Your fiancé chuckles, accompanied by an uncomfortable massage to your shoulder. The guests find amusement in how whipped he is as he gazes your way expectantly, conceivably wishing to see you swoon at the compliment. All you give him is a blank face. His elation falters.

"You know, when I first met this woman, I knew she was going to be the love of my life," your fiancé shakes your glare off. You purposely block out the rest of his story in favor of folding and unfolding your napkin again, puffing under your breath at the cheesy comment.

"Sap," you grunt to yourself, obviously. You don't expect anyone to hear, but there's a snort to your right. Your eyes lift from your lap—and straight into Katsuki's smug blood red ones. He winks at you from across the table and your eyes roll at that, though there's a small smile playing on your face that's impossible to hide.

"Isn't that right [Y/N]!...[Y/N]?"

You blink yourself back to life, eyes reluctantly leaving Katuski's hypnotic ones for the pair that make you nauseous, "Oh—u-um, yep!"

The place bursts in laughter and there's even a little smile dancing on Katsuki's face. He catches you staring so your eyes divert to your lap, but his remain a physical force against you for the rest of the night.

*selene — the greek goddess of the moon

The balcony is much nicer than the ballroom.

For one, it's the farthest place you could have gone from the commotion, all the way on the opposite side of the castle. It's a solid five-minute walk when you aren't in heels and a heavy petticoat, but it provides a lovely view of your front yard, subjecting you to watch the early-sleepers leave in their carriages to call it a night. Meanwhile, *Selene watches you from her telescope the moon with a sigh and a sad smile, because she's the only one who knows how completely and utterly alone you will be.

You glare at her—the goddess doesn't waver.

Bitch.

It's no secret that Gala’s like these get overwhelming—especially when you're the center of attention. You see Lord Shinsou (Earl) stuff the eager Lord Kaminari (Baron) into his silver-plated carriage before looking around to ensure no one saw, and blanche upon seeing your figure stood on the balcony. You salute so he knows his secret is safe with you, and relief washes over his face before he too hops into the carriage. What a scandal, you giggle.

Plenty of couples resign home after that; it makes you uneasy. You're unsure as to why, but you have the ever-increasing urge to nip at your fingernails until you don't have them anymore, and jamming the sharpest point of your heel into the concrete seems like the only proper way to release enough kinetic energy before you explode.

"He loves me."

He does, embarrassingly so—so what's the issue?

There isn't an issue; there shouldn't be. He reminds you how pretty you are and you compliment his influence. Neither of you are marrying down. You look good together. The kingdom's future power couple if you will, where you two supposedly mold the great future in your peculiarly young hands. There isn't an issue. You're the one for him, and he's the one for you.

The balcony door whines open. You don't turn around, praying whoever it is will see that it's occupied and turn the other cheek. Yet, the stomp of whoever's boots only grow louder until you’re adjacent to a shadow of a being, his chin lifted towards the stars. You catch a glimpse of blond hair, though dyed a pale white by the silver moon, and you two stand in a strangely comfortable silence, watching carriages roll out of your driveway.

The silence doesn’t last for long, though. It never does.

"D’ya always go disappearing like that?"

You frown. "What?"

"I don't fuckin' know," Katsuki grumbles—he has yet to look at you. Seems like Selene captures more than one person's attention tonight. "Blinked and you were gone."

Your frown only deepens, and you return your attention to the courtyard. "I didn't know you were paying attention."

The ash-blond presses his forearms against the railing for support. "I wasn't. He was."

Oh.

"Said he wants you to come back, so," Katsuki clicks his tongue, carmine red eyes finally flicking your way through the darkness. You don’t dare look at him. “You run off often, or what?"

"Tell him I'll come back in a second," you sigh, balancing your face in your hand. Katsuki says nothing, but he doesn't leave, and you hate that you don't mind.

Until he points towards a couple crossing the lawn and says, "Oi, that's the Duke from my fiancé's kingdom. Fucker tried to poison my dad for the throne—straightened him out real quick.”

"Why are you talking to me?" You snap like a cornered animal. Katsuki lifts an eyebrow.

"What? I can't have a goddamn conversation?"

"I—" your chest rises and falls with a reason to why he can't, but you can only come up with one—and you don't want to think about it.

"Listen. I don't like these things either, alright?" He huffs defensively, so defensively that you have to take a step back. "If I have the opportunity to get some fresh air, I'm gonna fuckin' take it."

You shrug, supposing it makes you one and the same. The wind blows, not harsh, but harsh enough to ruffle your gown, and make the gold jewelry decorating Katsuki's tunic jingle.

“So. I guess this is it, ain’t it?”

You sigh, “Katsuki, you know we—“

"Yeah yeah, that's all you fuckin' say," he growls bitterly, and you blink in a poor attempt to find where the animosity came from. His face twists in an ugly way as he sits his hands on his hips, nose scrunched to mockingly pitch his voice that doesn't sound like yours at all. "We can't, we shouldn't—"

"Because we shouldn't!" You nearly shout, and Katsuki jumps from how quickly you raise your voice. "Because—because if we get caught, we're fucked. And I can't go to sleep terrified that I'll wake up to an exposé tomorrow morning and get beheaded by the afternoon. So...please. Just stop."

Katsuki clicks his tongue.

"You don't love that asshole."

Your throat feels tight—much too tight to be comfortable, and your chest rises and falls with disbelief as you search for the words before you can talk again, eyes never dropping from the stars. You've had this conversation, fuck, you have it too often; often enough to know that he would say those exact words, and enough to know precisely what you'll say in response.

"I love him, Katsuki."

"No, no you fuckin' don't," the ash-blond chucks a laugh and it's nothing short of acrid, his words eating away at your skin more than you'd like them to. You sigh, resting your forearms on the railing too.

"I'm not having this conversation with you."

"Always gotta be so goddamn emotionally unavailable, huh?" He growls, glare set on the mountains presented in front of you. You feel his suit jacket hit your freezing shoulders, unaware of the cool temperatures until you feel the cloth brush against goosebumps. It’s your turn to laugh bitterly.

“Careful. People might think we’re getting married to each other.”

“One day you’ll let me fuckin’ live,” he grunts, and your eyes meet for the first time. His usual red is dyed a deep purple by the moonlight, their usual hardness traded for something much softer. “Can’t even give you a jacket when you’re shivering like a goddamn leaf in the wind.”

You give him a look of utter exhaustion because you’re tired—tired of all this running around and hiding, the secrecy. It eats at your insides like a caterpillar does a leaf, knowing that you go to sleep every night to a man who’ll barely touch you, but at the same time, feeling guilty that you don’t need nor want him to.

“Why are you here?”

Katsuki clicks his tongue. His warm body settles behind yours, close enough to feel the warmth but not close enough to feel him. “You looked lonely.”

“I thought my fiancé told you to get me?” You ask, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Katsuki rolls his eyes, his arms settling on both sides of yours.

“He did. But I didn’t refuse the damn request either.”

“You saw my loneliness all the way from the ballroom. What an eyesight,” you scoff. Katsuki’s eyes narrow, but it’s clear he’s fighting a grin because you’re a little shit who loves giving him a hard time. The ash-blond’s chest rises and falls, and he bites the inside of his cheek.

“You know what I mean.”

You snort, tilting your head to the right. You suppose you do.

“And I’m marrying a bitch,” he adds to his list of grievances, his hands finding yours to gently play with your fingers. You nod in agreement. A bitch she is.

“And...I’m really going to fuckin’ miss you.”

It might as well pass for nothing but a breath, eyes trained on your held hands. His chest suspends like he has more to say, but his teeth tear at the inside of his cheek before he can. “I—fuck, I get it, okay? I’m a selfish asshole—“

“This doesn’t have to do wit—“

“And I really, really need to get my fuckin’ priorities straight. I mean, they are, just not in the way they should be.”

“Hey,” you chastise, shaking his hands for his attention. “You can’t control who you love, okay?"

Katsuki grumbles at that but you refuse, turning around to look him in the eyes.

"And neither can I.”

You let go of his hands in favor of pulling him down via his cheeks and giving him a big fat kiss on the lips. It’s peckish and brief, but it’s sweet and gets your point across. It's comfortable.

“The hell was that for?” Katsuki asks once you pull away. Though you see him struggle to hide a grin, eyes squinting more than they should.

“Easy,” you say, stepping forwards (as if there’s any space for that), “You looked lonely.”

Katsuki snorts, dropping his head, “Bastard.”

“And I’m being married off to an asshole,” you lament, pulling his face so close to the point you’re sure the strain on his back has got to be anything but sexy. He accommodates anyways—Katsuki always has; and night seems to suspend along with his baited breath as he waits for the next line, eyes shining with a painful hope you’re about to confirm.

“And I’m really, really going to miss you,” you say, shaking your head at how utterly true that statement is. Fuck.

The vulnerability slowly fades from his eyes at that, and Katsuki hums, clammy hands finding their rightful place around your hips.

“You shouldn’t call him an asshole, you know,” he says, face inching so close you can smell the champagne on his breath. “He means well.”

“I didn’t know you cared,” you quip back, raising an eyebrow. Katsuki shrugs, and you don’t realize he’s backing you up until your back kisses the cool railing.

“Well. I can’t help but feel a little bad,” he says cheekily as he inches closer, “‘Cause I make you feel so good, don’t I, Princess? Last time I checked, better than he ever could.”

You scoff at his audacity though it’s all good-natured, eyes preferring the moon over his heated gaze as he turns you around to face the courtyard.

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, redirecting your attention using a finger on your jaw, “Eyes on me, Princess. You look really fuckin’ pretty under the stars, y’know.”

You snort at the compliment, rolling your eyes.

“‘M serious. A fuckin’ goddess,” he growls, leaving wet kisses up the column of your neck. Your breath hitches as he reaches your sweet spot and sucks, and you’re swatting him away before he can leave a mark.

“I sai—“

“One last time, Princess,” he bargains lowly as his hot hands slide their way from your waist to your breasts, taking their sweet time. Katsuki hooks his chin on your shoulder. “Lemme—Can I make you feel good one last time?”

You’re nodding with a whimper before you can berate yourself for being so fucking easy, the thought of not being able to indulge yourself with this, with him, any longer tosses any and all resistance out the window.

“Good,” Katsuki hums, tweaking your nipples through the bodice. “‘M gonna pay you back for being so good to me, yeah? For puttin' up with all my shit."

You scoff, mouth dropping to tell him you weren't putting up with his shit, but then a warm hand lands on your thigh—somehow, he's found a way under your dress. The hand slides up inner thigh and you feel Katsuki's chest shudder against your back as he finally reaches where you need him most.

"K-Kats—"

"Shhh, you don't want them to hear us, do you?" He grunts, pulling your panties to the side. You shiver from the change in temperature, watching another Duke and Duchess of half-drunkenly stumble into their carriages for the night, before there's a crack of a whip and hooves beat towards the exit. It's only a reminder of how painfully exposed you two are—one glance towards the balcony and any onlooker would know exactly what's happening. You hate it.

You hate that you don't.

"Atta girl," Katsuki purrs, groaning as he inserts a finger. You shiver, the weight of his being practically trapping you against the railing. "Always so fuckin' tight. I swear that asshole never fucks you right."

Katsuki's never been an impatient man and fills you with a second finger awfully fast, chuckling when you bite into the meat of your palm to hold back a whimper. His hips start to grind against the puff of your dress and he groans as quietly as he can, carelessly shoving down the sleeve of his suit jacket to bite into your shoulder.

You let out a broken moan much too loud for this time of night and it prompts Katsuki's free hand to stuff an equal amount of fingers into your mouth. "Y'know, something tells me you wanna get caught. You want the whole world to know how much you fuckin' hate that bastard, huh?"

You choke as Katsuki slides in a third digit next to the second, the slap of his palm against your pussy becoming nothing but obscene as your slick accentuates the sound. His hips speed up against your ass and that's enough friction to have the ash-blond groaning, along with the spit that drips down his forearm.

"So dirty for me, Princess," his hips stutter when you push back, tongue laving over the bite mark you'll probably have to conceal in the morning. Asshole. "You wanna cum like this, don't you? You're gonna cum all over my fingers in front of the entire royal court. Dumb little girl, can't even keep her mouth shut to keep us from gettin' caught."

You jam your heel into the balcony concrete so hard you positive it cracks before you're coming all over Katsuki's fingers, nearly choking on the ones in your mouth as you release the loudest broken moan you have that night. Katsuki's hips stutter against you and you're positive he's filling his boxers from the airy moan that follows, and his hand goes limp in your mouth before it slides out completely.

Your chests balloon in unison, his body draped over yours, and as you two catch your breath under the moonlight, you can’t help but think how much you’re going to miss this.

"Run away with me."

"I—" he does this. He always does this. He makes you feel on top of the world, acting like everything's fine, and then he pulls this shit on you. You look everywhere but him, nearly scoffing in disbelief. "Katsuki—"

"C'mon, Princess," Katsuki scrambles to flip you by the waist until your back is flush against the railing again and he’s cradling both your hands in his semi-damp ones. There’s a look in his eyes you don’t like, and it makes your chest burn. "Across the sea, people are movin’ over there and I—I know someone there, okay? Someone we could stay with, maybe help us get back on our feet an-and I found a fuckin’ ferry guy to take us across, and I can even pay him a little extra, o-or you, or—"

"Katsuki," you give him a sad smile, squeezing his hands tight. There's hope, too much hope in his eyes and it's fucking blinding. "Running away? I—this is—we have an obligation, we can't jus—"

"It'll be fine," he insists, stepping forwards and squeezing you back twice as hard. You sigh."I—the two kingdoms can merge or whatever the fuck they wanna do and then we'll be—"

"Katsuki."

"I—fuck Princess, I don't beg but goddammit, I'll do whatever you fuckin' want, get on my knees, I ca—"

"You really want to know what I want?"

Katsuki freezes. It's the first time you've ever seen some semblance of emotion in him that isn't anger or lust, with carmine red irises swimming in unshed tears—and fuck, you hate the sight. You want to shoot yourself in the fucking foot for what you’re about to do, but it’s for the best. It always is.

"Love her."

Katsuki looks at you, and his face drops, chest shuddering.

"I can't."

You drop his hands in favor of holding his face, thumbing at the hot tears running as they fall. God, Katsuki’s pretty—too pretty for his own good and he doesn’t even know it. His unsteady hands find themselves massaging your ribs and your foreheads knock together. "You need to try. Love her as much as you love me, yeah?"

"'S fuckin' impossible," Katsuki says with a wet snort, shaking his head with eyebrows raised. You giggle, throat impossibly tight.

"Almost, then? For me."

Katsuki’s red eyes stare at you through the darkness. You have half a mind to look the other way, but you figure you owe him this if nothing else, and as he lovingly absorbs your being under the moonlight for the last time, you really wish you could take your words back.

"I'll...fuck. Fine. I'll try." Katsuki resigns with a shrug, shaking his head. You two sniffle in unison and you suppress the strange urge to pinch him. "'M not gonna try to get over you, though. Sorry, not sorry."

You roll your eyes at that but it's all good-natured, followed by a choke you struggle to hide as his arms coil around your waist, "Then I won't either."

A genuine grin spreads across his face, and it’s borderline giddy—and a stark contrast against the waterworks. "She finally fuckin' admits it."

"Figured it was about time," you give him a wobbly smile before your eyes flicker to his, red blurring from being so close. Selene looks upon both of you with a reminiscent sigh.

"I love you, Katsuki Bakugou."

Katsuki sniffs before he laughs; it's wet, and near bitter, and he pulls you so close your face nearly shoves into his chest. "Fuck. Fuck, you're an asshole, you know that?"

"This is when you say it back," you bargain, squishing his cheeks. Katsuki presses his forehead deeper into yours.

"I love you too, Asshole."

He speaks with a softness you've never heard and it's like a gunshot to the heart, and as his lips inch closer to yours as your hands slide to thumb at his ears. One last kiss wouldn't hurt, would it?

Until there's a whistle and the click of footsteps. You and Katsuki jump a mile apart.

"Oh, [Y/N]! You're still out here in the cold?" Your fiancé asks with a raised eyebrow, but it seems like that's only an afterthought as he turns to Katsuki to say, "Your wife’s found the alcohol."

"Great," the ash-blond groans, understanding the translation—your fiancé is piss drunk in the ballroom.

"I do recommend you take her home. She's making quite a mess of the eclairs. And her face."

Katsuki heads inside without giving you a second glance, and your fiancé gives him a solid pat on the way in before turning to you halfway through the doorway, "Are you coming inside, Darling?"

"In a moment," you say with a smile. Your hand never leaves the railing. "Just getting some fresh air."

"Alrighty, then. I'll be in the bedroom. Waiting~" he winks, and with that, he's spinning on his heel, and you're alone with the moon again.

You watch Katsuki guide his inebriated fiancé into the carriage lovingly, with a smile on his face that isn't quite the one he wears with you but close enough, whispering whatever pleases her at the time with a chaste kiss on the cheek. You feel comfort in knowing that he has someone to love and someone to be loved by. He doesn't look your way—not once.

It's not until they drive away that you realize you still have his suit jacket draped over your shoulders. You don't doubt he did that on purpose, either.

Asshole.

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #bakugou smut #mha smut #bnha smut

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silversatoru · 3 years

Note

I take a sip of my tea “hear me out” I say, “jealous eren / armin / levi / and erwin headcanons, i just want to give everyone want they want” i set my tea cup down then walk off, but i come back and say, “maybe oluo too cause some people are closeted oluo simps, they’re just too scared to admit it, like me” i add then turn back around and walk away.

... why am I laughing at my own request 🧍🏻

a/n: hi anon, this was hilarious and i cannot believe u simp for fucking oluo,, i’ll be honest he’s a pretty irrelevant dude and i don’t remember a whole lot about his personality but i tried real hard for you <3 u better come back to me as an emoji anon or something ok i wanna be friends

headcannons: how the aot boys get jealous

includes: eren jeager, armin arlert, levi ackerman, erwin smith, and oluo bozado (?)

t/w: nsfw 18+, angry sex, mild degradation, mention of impact play, breeding kink, some of the boys being awkward

eren jeager

he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you know your his and only his

if eren sees someone flirting with you or being a little touchy with you, he will not hesitate to make a scene

like depending on how confident he’s feeling he might just walk up and grab your ass in front of the guy

but he’ll most likely just make a few snarky comments to scare the guy off

“hey babe, is this creep bothering you?”

“why the fuck are you talking to my girlfriend like that dude?”

so unafraid of confrontation it’s almost scary

eren’s the type of dude to question you about it too (kinda toxic but he has some insecurities ok)

“do you like it when other guys talk to you like that?”

“why didn’t you walk away?”

and then you’d go home and have semi-angry sex filled with lots of reminders that you belong to him

“you’re my dumb little slut, aren’t you?”

he’d slap your ass if you don’t say yes

“that’s right, no one else is ever gonna make you feel this good, baby”

and honestly he’s right

levi ackerman

levi’s real quiet when he gets jealous

he’ll watch from a distance with a scowl on his face but he won’t know how to approach the situation

it bothers him a lot that other men are flirting with you, but he truly doesn’t know what to say

he’s also kinda insecure, so he might convince himself that you like flirting with those other guys

he’d get pissed, annoyed, frustrated, embarrassed — and he wouldn’t know how to handle any of it

so he’d leave and go home

of course you’d see him leave and you’d be quick on his tail, meeting him at home and questioning why he’d left

“seemed like you were having a good time”

he’d be passive aggressive and make it obvious that something was bothering him

it would take some sweet talk and a lot of coaxing but eventually he’d admit to being jealous

you’d have to give him a lot of reassurance, both verbally and physically

remind him how much you love him, and only him

eventually he’d get over it and the two of you will have only grown closer from the whole experience

dating levi is hard work — he’s gotta learn how to understand his emotions and come to terms with them (and he’s not that great at it yet)

armin arlert

poor armin

he’s really not quite sure how to approach jealousy either

his little cheeks get red and he’s all flustered with anger as another guy flirts with you across the room

he’d probably consult a friend first (which is most likely eren)

“hey eren, do you think he’s flirting with y/n? should i do something?”

to which eren would obviously tell him to go make a scene (as we’ve already covered in his list)

he approaches you with a lot less confidence than his hotheaded friend would, but he tries his best

“h-hey y/n, can you come here for a second? i have something i need your help with”.

of course you immediately comply, walking away with him and asking him what he needs

he would embarrassingly admit that he was just jealous and didn’t like watching that guy get so close to you

you’d reassure him by giving him a big kiss in front of everyone, including whatever guy had been talking with you

he’d get flustered and his heart would beat out of his chest bc he hates all the attention on the two of you,,, but he’s so happy and relieved by your bold reminder that he’s the one you love

erwin smith

erwin approaches this like the calm, well-mannered individual he is

he gets irked when he sees another guy chatting you up across the room, his eyebrows knitting together

but he’s a gentleman, so he takes a deep breath and approaches the situation with complete professional poise

“hey honey, have you heard from the baby sitter lately? how are the kids?”

you’d flush with embarrassment, because the two of you certainly don’t have kids and aren’t even married either

the flirty culprit would get visibly uncomfortable with the knowledge that he was flirting with a married woman with kids, and he’d immediately spin on his heels and find someone else

erwin would chuckle to himself,, all too proud with his little stunt

you two would have crazy sex that night,, and he’d make several comments about how he wanted to actually have kids with you

“maybe i should fill you up and give you a baby, how does that sound?”

“gonna pump you full of kids, make you a mom and make you my wife”

whew,, daddy erwin

oluo bozado

oh god ok here we go,, (i watched youtube compilations for this anon, don’t say i don’t put in the work for u guys)

oluo’s kind of cocky, overconfident, speaks his opinion even when it’s not wanted — so when someone’s flirting w his girl he gets pretty heated

at first i think he’d shoot some dirty glances, because as cocky as he is he’s also kinda insecure and he wouldn’t know how to approach it

when he finally works up the courage to intervene he’d say some real awkward shit

“hey uh, this is my girlfriend you know”.

🤡 thats clown shit oluo

the situation would get so awkward; tension thick enough to cut

the two of you would uncomfortably leave the situation and you’d question his actions

he’d say some shit like:

“that asshole bastard was hitting on you!”

“stupid piece of shit thinks he’s good enough to talk to you. he’s not!”

you’d have to calm him down and remind him that you love him, all while trying not to laugh bc if you laugh he’ll just get more upset

honestly this is all a guess but i hope i did you well anon 🥸

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hornime · 3 years

Text

mutually assured destruction | kyoutani kentarou x gn!reader

he pushed your cheeks in with his fingers, effectively quieting your protests. “be quiet,” he spat, “and take what i give you. or nothing at all.”

warnings: 18+, fwb!kyoutani, hate sex, degradation, orgasm denial, fighting for dominance (idek if that’s a thing but it should be), both you and kyo are BRATTY AS HELL, some choking, spitting, CHAIN BITING, kinda toxic ?? but like mutually so it cancels out cus pemdas ???

w/c: 1.7k (i got carried away but kyoutani is just so sexy)

a/n: the way i came up with this title while studying for apush and then kyoutani flooded my mind and suddenly the catalysts of the cold war no longer mattered to me anymore.

you and kyoutani were not a good mix, not by a long shot. simply being in the same room was a disaster waiting to happen; he was a bundle of tnt and you were a lit match. for all that you hated each other, though, both of you needed the other for something: a fuck that would never disappoint.

the sex, just like your relationship, was explosive. it was heart-stopping, ab-clenching, vision-blinding, breath-stealing, hardcore-as-fuck sex. neither of you could get enough of it nor wane yourself off it. you were addicted.

it made you hate him even more.

[11:05 PM] kyo-kyo: come over

you cringed at the contact name. you must’ve changed it after the last time you hooked up, all stupid and cock-drunk. you quickly retyped his contact info before responding to his message.

[11:05 PM] you: why

[11:05 PM] kyoutani: are you an idiot? you know why

[11:05 PM] you: ik i just wanna hear u say it

[11:05 PM] you: say that ur soooooo horny that you just haddddd to text me

[11:06 PM] kyoutani: no. fuck you.

[11:06 PM] you: fine. im not coming over then.

you both knew that was a lie.

[11:08 PM] you: have fun taking care of urself.

[11:08 PM] you: needy bitch.

[11:08 PM] kyoutani: watch it. i wasnt this mean when you were begging me to fuck you last week.

you sighed. that was a moment of weakness.

[11:08 PM] kyoutani: whatd you say last time? something along the lines of “ill do whatever you want just come fuck me”?

[11:11 PM] kyoutani: *attachment: one (1) screenshot*

[11:11 PM] kyoutani: ohh it was “ill do whatever you want PLEASE just come fuck me”

[11:12 PM] kyoutani: youre so much nicer to be around when you use your manners

definitely a moment of weakness.

[11:12 PM] you: fuck off i get it. im coming

[11:12 PM] kyoutani: doors unlocked

the moment you nudged your way into his apartment, he was on you, hands gripping tightly at the flesh of your hips and teeth nibbling at your bottom lip.

“get off,” you groaned, pushing him away. as you peeled off your jacket, you glanced down at his pants and looked back up at his face with an amused expression. “are you hard already?”

he met your eyes with a gaze of lust—and was that desperation?—before turning to walk towards his bedroom, expecting you to follow. “no.”

“yes you are,” you teased. “you really needed me, didn’t you? you’re absolutely pathe—”

before you could finish, kyoutani grabbed your wrist before practically dragging you to his bed. he pushed you onto the mattress and, with his hands on your waist, maneuvered your body up until your head rested between his two pillows. “stop fucking talking. your voice is annoying.”

“at least i can keep it in my pants,” you retorted. “you’re just embarrassingly horny.”

“you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.” that shut you up.

he crept towards you until the gold chain around his neck dangled tantalizingly in your face. in an instant, you were kissing, aggressively melding your lips together in a mess of teeth and tongue. kyoutani’s hands clumsily reached for your bottoms, briefly breaking the kiss to unbutton your pants and yank them, along with your underwear, off your legs. he then did the same to himself, giving his leather belt a thoughtful once-over before glancing back at your face. he was clearly deliberating about something in his head, though you were completely clueless as to what, but he ultimately threw the belt to the side alongside his jeans with a shrug of his shoulders. maybe next time, he thought.

meanwhile, you’d taken off your shirt and were tugging at the hem at kyoutani’s. he seized your forearm, “stop being so impatient,” he chastised, before pulling the cloth over his head and letting it drop to the floor.

breathless, you both marveled in the glory of the other’s naked body. kyoutani, a lot more eager than you—though he’d rather die than admit that—closed the distance between you, leaning down to suck on your tongue. when he separated from you, his eyes cloudy and cheeks flushed, you spit in your palm, maintaining eye contact while feeling blindly for his cock.

he hissed, briefly shutting his eyes, as your fingers closed around his shaft, leisurely stroking up and down.

“where’s the lube?”

“in the,“ his voice became strained as your thumb swirled his pre-cum around the tip, “the bo-bottom drawer. i’ll,” he groaned. “i’ll get it.”

you released his cock as he leaned over, opening the drawer and pulling out the bottle. he dribbled some of the liquid on the pads of his fingers and brought them closer to your hole. you tensed, eyes squeezing in anticipation as you prepared for the intrusion.

nothing happened.

in confusion, you opened your eyelids only to be met with the mildly-entertained expression of the man above you. “so hasty,” he tsked. his fingertips circled your fluttering hole but did nothing more.

“stop teasing,” you pleaded.

he slowly inched his fingers in, groaning as he watched your walls stretch to accommodate him. for a few minutes, he did nothing but push in and out and scissor his fingers, making you wider and wider.

“put it in.”

your words were met with little resistance—he wanted this as much as you did, if not more—and he repositioned himself, aligning his cock with your hole, now stretched and slick with lube. he moved his hips in, moaning lightly as he bottomed out.

“f-fuck,” he mumbled. “you’re so tight.”

“just move.”

he obliged, thrusting in and out, faster and faster, until you both were crying out in pleasure, scrumptiously close to your orgasms.

“i’m gonna cum soon,” you babbled. “don’t s-stop.”

“oh, are you now?”

you nodded mindlessly, brain hazy and unable to register the sinister undertone of his question.

“y-yeah. i’m so close. so. close—fuck i’m gon-”

kyoutani suddenly halted his movements, eyes blazing as he looked down at you.

“wha-why’d you stop?” you couldn’t help but whine. “i was so close.”

“are you seriously asking me that? why i stopped?” he taunted. “who’s the one that called me a ‘needy bitch’? huh?”

shit. if you’d known that he was going to use your jabs against you like this, you never would’ve made them. hindsight is a bitch.

“i didn’t mean it, kyo,” you pleaded, innocently using the cute nickname. “you know that. so why don’t you just give me what i wan-”

he pushed your cheeks in with his fingers, effectively quieting your protests. “be quiet,” he spat, “and take what i give you. or nothing at all.”

he thought for a moment. “and call me ken.”

he resumed his thrusts, significantly more erratic than before, and you couldn’t help but call out his name: ken, k-ken, fuck ken, more.

however, you’d sobered up from your denied release, and a wicked plan was beginning to formulate in your head. kyoutani, actually ken, now, was losing his composure even faster than you were—he’d denied himself an orgasm for the sake of punishing you, after all. you could tell that his dominance was crumbling—his shaking forearms and barely concealed moans had not gone unnoticed—and now was a good a time as ever for revenge.

and his chain, his stupid, fucking, gold chain, was getting on your nerves, clashing with your face every time his hips met yours. fed up and driven by vengeance, you clasped your teeth around the glimmering necklace, catching him off-guard.

he looked down at you, curiosity shining through his lustful gaze. “what’re yo-”

you quickly jerked your head to the side, yanking him off balance and making him land on his side. in an instant, you’d forced him onto his back and straddled his muscular thighs, a triumphant look visible on your face.

“how’d you even d-” ken choked on his words as you slammed back down on him again, taking him impossibly deeper. his hands scrambled to grip the bedsheets, “shit.”

“for the record,” you panted in between heavy breaths, rocking your hips, “i called you a needy bitch because you are a needy bitch.”

“shut up. no i’m no-”

your hand closed around his neck, preventing him from continuing. “yes you are,” you insisted, “and you’ll take whatever i give you.”

he shook his head out of your grasp, gasping for air. “i fucking hate you.”

“open your mouth,” you ordered. he glared at you defiantly. “open,” you purposefully clenched, tightening your hold on his cock, “up.”

at the sudden change in pressure, he couldn’t help but throw his head back and moan, allowing you to harshly grab his chin and let your salvia drip off your lips onto his awaiting tongue.

“swallow,” you demanded.

overwhelmed by the undeniable pleasure coursing through his veins, he did so without complaint. why does it taste good, he sighed internally. now i’m gonna want more.

just a few thrusts later, you both reached your orgasms, moaning far too loud in a room of walls that were far too thin. the intensity made your muscles turn to jelly and you collapsed onto ken’s chiseled chest, your bodies both trembling.

“‘m tired,” you mumbled into his collarbone.

“yeah me too,” he snapped. “you’re fucking exhausting to be around. i don’t know why i do it.”

“i do,” you teased, raising your head, “‘cus you’re a needy bi-”

he mashed your cheek back into his shoulder. “don’t finish that.” you weren’t sure if the fuzziness in your mind was clouding your judgement, but you swore you could hear the hint of a snicker in his voice.

gradually shaking the exertion out of your limbs, you picked up your clothes and got dressed, walking out ken’s front door with a middle-finger throw over your shoulder.

“i hope i never have to see you again!” he called out behind you.

as you headed back to your apartment, your phone buzzed with a text:

[02:01 AM] ken: i have a team dinner on tues and its gonna be annoying and ill probably be frustrated as hell

[02:01 AM] ken: so

you hesitated before responding.

[02:01 AM] you: i can be there around 10

[02:02 AM] ken: cool. sounds good

you couldn’t help the corners of your mouth from turning up. you were happy—in a sick, perverted, sex-crazed kind of way—but happy all the same.

tuesday couldn’t come soon enough. you were going to absolutely destroy each other.

#the chain biting was such a sexy brain move on my part #like how did i even think of that #that one paragraph literally belongs in a museum #spreading my gold chain kyoutani agenda #kinky.inky #haikyuu smut #haikyuu! smut #kyoutani x reader #kyotani kentaro x reader #maddog #maddog x reader #tw.hate sex #tw.degradation #tw.toxic #tw.choking #tw.spit #kyoutani

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nikrangdan · 3 years

Text

babysitter!jungwon

pairing: babysitter!jungwon x reader

genre: fluff

description: your mom hired a babysitter for your little sister since you were out with friends often and she worked most of the week... but once you meet the babysitter you have second thoughts about going out with your friends

———

“the babysitter is almost here y/n! greet him before you leave!” your mom yelled at you while she put on her shoes to go run some errands

“but mommmm!” you whined

“i have to leave now! my friends have been waiting for like 20 minutes!” you frustratedly said back

you had planned to go bowling with your friends after school BUT your mom said you had to let in the babysitter first

obviously you were annoyed like the teenager you are

your 6 year old sister wooyeon was sat on the couch watching some cartoon on the tv

“im leaving sweetie, you better stay put before he gets here or youre grounded.” she didnt even let you respond before she was out the door in a flash

you huffed and sat next to wooyeon

“is my babysitter here yet?” she looked up at with you big eyes

“i dont even know when hes getting here” you pouted and began to text your friends to let them know you were gonna be late

y/n: gona be late guys🙄 mom made me wait for the babysitter so i cant leave until hes here

riki: we dont care

y/n: stfu asshole

jinah: awww man can we start without u 😓

sunoo: LMAO JINAH

sunoo: jinah is so funny bc we already started without u y/n

y/n: I HATE U ALL SO MUCH

jinah: BYE

riki: y/n can u bring gummy bears plz

y/n: fine

y/n: ill be there in like 40 mins idk when this guy is getting here

y/n: hello

y/n: where did u guys go

y/n: you all burn in hell

you laughed and rolled your eyes at your stupid friends

god it feels like its been FOREVER when is this guy getting here

idk what happened but it seems like god answered your prayers

*knock knock knock*

FINALLYYY

you jumped up and ran to the door while wooyeon curiously peered over the couch

swinging the door open you were about to start spewing stuff like “so theres wooyeon and theres a note of all the stuff you need to know so ive gotta go now bye”

BUT..............

lord have mercy

what did you do in your past life to deserve such a beautiful human being arrive at your doorstep

“oh um hi... are you wooyeons babysitter?” you shyly asked

YOU COULD BARELY LOOK HIM IN THE EYE

“ah yes, im jungwon! nice to meet you” he smiled

HIS DIMPLES OH MY GOD

wooyeon popped up next to you

“hi! im wooyeon, are you my babysitter? you’re cute, i like your face!”

“oh my god im so sorry” you embarrassingly put your hands on wooyeons shoulders and tried to lead her back to the couch

jungwon laughed “its fine haha” he followed in after you and shut the door behind him

wooyeon sat back on the couch, waiting for you to leave so she could talk to jungwon herself

“so um.. i’ve got go now. theres notes on the counter by the way. how long are you gonna be babysitting wooyeon?” you were standing next to the front door now as he was facing you from next to the couch

“oh your mom hired me on the weekdays for the rest of this month. from 4 to 8” he said

“wow thats a long time.. well thank you by the way, ill see you later i guess”

he grinned and waved bye to you with wooyeon

and then you just walked out of the door

but you really really didnt want to

your mom did not tell you she hired the Cutest Babysitter Ever wtf!!!!!

when you finally got to the bowling alley you wouldnt shut up about jungwon so they just started to ignore you

you were out with them until 7 so now you were on the way home

and hopefully your mom didnt come back early so jungwon could still be there

AND HE WAS <33

your keys rattle in the lock and you open the door almost excitedly

you peeked your head through the door to see jungwon and wooyeon at the kitchen counter making what seemed to be cookies

“hey you two” you grinned at them

“hi y/n! how are you? sorry i couldnt open the door for you, im kind of occupied here” jungwon giggled and you saw his hands covered in greasy cookie dough

“y/n we’re making cookies!” wooyeon exclaimed

“i can see that, they smell yummy” you started to walk over to them

“im doing great” you smiled at him AGAIN.. “oh and its okay, i can see you’re very busy being a baker here” you laughed

you and jungwon would just make small talk here and there while wooyeon was in her own world playing with the cookie dough

he was so nice it made your heart hurt

it turned 8pm quicker than you thought sadly

“jungwonie!” your sister fake cried “i dont want you to go”

she was literally stuck on his leg refusing to let him go

“ahh wooyeon dont worry! go to sleep now and ill be back tomorrow!” he bent down to pat her head

“wooyeon.. if you dont go to your bed now then jungwon wont come back tomorrow!” you tried to scare her

it definitely worked because there was sheer horror on her face and she ran towards her bedroom

you and jungwon laughed at the sight

he had his stuff gathered in his hand and stopped at the door

“wooyeon is really sweet, im glad shes not a scary child like the other ones ive babysat”

“really?” you gasped “shes a demon to me”

he chuckled at that

his laugh is so cute Omg

“well ill get going now..” he opened the door

“okay.. bye! thank you jungwon, ill see you tomorrow” he gave you a small wave before walking out the door to his car

you dreamily sighed

would it be so bad if you ditched your friends from now on to stay with jungwon and wooyeon

but if you just stayed home with them wouldnt that eliminate the need for a babysitter

its a lose-lose situation 😞

maybe you would go out with them but then come back really early so you could spend more time with him

yes thats it!

#enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #jungwon #jungwon imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen reactions #kpop #enhypen gifs #jungwon x reader #enhypen imagine #enhypen drabbles #enhypen blurbs #jungwon fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenario #enhypen fic #yang jungwon

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jincherie · 4 years

Note

Yes, please to Jinkook wolf au!!!!

alright, here u go!!

wolf jinkook x reader (jungkook x reader x seokjin)

5k // sfw // wolf au, mates au, college au // drabble/excerpt

“Are you sure its okay for me to becoming?”

There’s nerves evident in your tone,but even still you can’t help but recognise the contrary ball of excitementbeginning to unravel in your stomach. You know this feeling, these butterfliesare familiar, but you haven’t felt them in a long time—you’re not sure whyyou’re feeling them now, when you’re just going to meet friends of yourfriends.

“Of course it is!” Taehyung skipscloser to you so that he can swing his arm around your shoulders, almostknocking you flat on your face from the force of it if it weren’t for the griphis hand has on your arm. “I know I kind of intimidated you with all that talkof it being a monthly wolf thing, but to be honest a bunch of supernaturalstend to rock up—for the alcohol and the entertainment, presumably.”

“Hell, last time we held it at thebeach there were even some sirens that came out to mingle.” Jimin sidlesup next to you, grinning brightly—something about the incriminating twinkle inhis eyes told you that he was one of the ones being mingled with. “You don’thave to worry.”

“Uh, sirens are a pretty big stepaway from humans so,” you scuff your feet and pretend you don’t nearly tripfrom the action. “I think I do.”

“Nonsense!” Taehyung booms,embarrassingly loud as his voice echoes down the street. You’ve never been morethankful that it was night and people weren’t out and about to stare—thenagain, it’s probably a bit more of a commotion to be occurring at night.“Humans are welcome and come all the time! Well, a few of them. Anyway, wealready told the pack that you’re coming so they’re expecting you and if youchicken out it will be humiliating for all three of us.”

You gasp at him, appalled at how hewas abusing your overactive empathy by saying you’ll embarrass them by being ano-show. You can’t let him know he got you, though. “I’m not chickening out! Inever said I wouldn’t go!”

Taehyung only responds with asnicker, and you resist the urge to yank a lock of his blond hair like a child.The further down the road you get while bickering, the more the bundle ofnerves and anticipation inside you grows; you’re not sure what to do with it,the sensation broaching on unfamiliar. You elect to ignore it and simply hopeit will take the hint and go away.

“Yeah sure, whatever you say…”Jimin’s response grinds your gears further and you can’t help but wonderexactly how you ended up becoming such good friends with these two when they’reboth so annoying. Perhaps it’s because like attracts like, notthat you’re ever going to admit that out loud for them to hear.

You grumble indiscernibly, both maleshearing it easily with their sharper hearing. At once, they protest to thewords that left you, and the three of you are thrown into another of thehallmark arguments that seem to provide the scaffold of your relationship. Youbicker as you walk, the night breeze cool and damp from the shower that haddanced over the city barely an hour ago. As you reach further down the street,the houses becoming more and more sparsely situated, the familiar thrum of bassbegins to shake your chest and your ears begin to pick up on music carried by thebreeze.

You’re only just hearing it now, butyou don’t doubt Taehyung and Jimin heard it much earlier and it is the sourceof the sudden energy renewal that hit them a few minutes ago. With each stepyou take your stomach trembles and tightens, the sensations completely bizarreat this point. You’ve never been this nervous before—are you nervous? Is thatwhat it is? You shouldn’t be, you have no reason to be and you never usuallyare in situations like this. You have no idea what to do with yourself.

It’s as the three of you finallyapproach your destination— a pack dorm styled in a modern townhouse fashion,grey cement outside reflecting the strong, silver glow of the waxing moon,nearly full, so strongly it’s almost like a beacon before your eyes— that yourtwo friends finally stop, just at the gate that marks the beginning of theproperty. The music comes from somewhere within, a heavy trap beat at thecurrent moment. You can see figures in the windows, very suddenly recalling howmany new people are going to be here—new creatures.

“Your heartbeat is a bit uneven,”Taehyung observes, and instantly you flush in embarrassment that they’ve bothnoticed and are acutely aware that you are, in fact, nervous. You can’t evenoffer an explanation or defence because you don’t even know why! “You don’tneed to be nervous, but since you are…”

“Don’t worry!” Jimin chimes, loopingan arm through yours. The button on the sleeve of his blue leather jacketalmost catches on your shirt and he ignores your resulting glare. “We’ll bewith you! You have nothing to worry about, you’ll be safe here, and in the incrediblyunlikely event that something does happen, we’ll protect you, our favouritesquishy human friend.”

He finishes off his heartwarmingsentiment by squishing your cheeks, pulling at the fat there like an auntie.Whining, you immediately smack his hand away and shrug out of Taehyung’s arm.

“I don’t need you!” You declare,already stomping up the path and feeling the way the booming music movesthrough your chest. You know it’s going to be much, much louder on the otherside of the door. “Screw both of you! I’m a strong, independent woman, and I’mgonna go in there and I’m gonna get a strong drink and—and – I won’tneed your help! You’ll see!”

… …. ….. .. …. … .. .. . . . . .

You’d needed their help the secondyou got inside.

You’re in the kitchen now, sipping ona very strongly spiked glass of juice, reflecting on the embarrassment of thepast few minutes.

First of all, there was a group offeline shifters in the foyer that happened to be having a particularly heatedcatfight the second you walked inside. If someone hadn’t drunkenly stumbledinto you and conveniently knocked you out of the path of one of the shifter’sclaws, then it might have been you on the receiving end of a nasty gash on theface instead. You’d felt bad that some drunk stranger had taken the fall foryou for about a split second, before they healed within the next few momentsand let out a growl before unceremoniously throwing themselves in to join thefight. Right, you forgot for a second that you were surrounded bysupernaturals.

Of course, Jimin and Taehyungwitnessed the entire affair and snickered at you from the side. No help hadcome from them, contrary to what they’d announced outside about being yourprotectors for the night, so you’d let out a huff and turned on your heel tocontinue in search of drink. You realised very quickly you’d need it if youwere going to survive this night with minimal trauma.

This is your first time in theirpackhouse, so naturally you have no idea where you are or where you’re going.Like the terrible friends they are, Taehyung and Jimin just let you walk aroundboldly, acting like you know where you’re going. Apparently it was very funny.You’d be inclined to agree with them, if it weren’t for the fact that yourwandering led you to stumbling across not just one, or two, or even threeheated moments, but five in total. This is the opposite of what you hadwanted and you grew so flustered after the fifth time discovering a bunch ofsupernaturals in a borderline orgy (all of them had at least one nymph in them,you noticed wryly) that the two finally took pity on you and dragged you theright way to the kitchen, still laughing all the while. Yes, hilarious. You’regoing to have to work for years to unpack all you’d just seen.

You’d only arrived in the kitchenjust over a minute ago, long enough that you were able to finally get a drink,but even that entrance had been met with embarrassment. You stand inmortification now, taking a large sip of your drink as you continue to feeleyes boring into you from the side.

“This is y/n, Yoongi. She’s the onewe always tell you about! You know, the one who we met because we sat behindher and caught her streaming Ouran Host Club in our Art History lecture.”

At every incriminating word thatleaves Taehyung’s big mouth, you feel humiliation crawling further up yourspine and colouring your face even more. You can’t even bring yourself to lookat Yoongi, the pack member you’d been introduced to quite unceremoniously justa few minutes ago, but you can still— still— feel his eyes boring intoyou. It’s only as he snorts that you manage to risk a glance his way, shoulderstense with discomfort.

The second you lay eyes on him, youvery suddenly recall the very recent humiliating event that just occurred andinstantly wish to die.

(The kitchen, your main destination,is the source of the drinks for tonight, and hence your two friends drag youthere. Taehyung announces he knows just what to get you, and makes a show ofmixing a secret drink. You know exactly what he’s going to give you and yetfind yourself hoping he won’t.

Of course, you have no such luck.

“Taehyung, don’t you give me anythingmalty.” You warn, pointing your finger at him. The smile that touches his lipsis borderline cherubic as he holds out a cup, the smell of that damnalcohol and coke breaching your nostrils.

“Drink it.”

“Taehyung,” you warn again, taking astep back. “Don’t you dare. You know I can’t drink it.”

“How do you even know what it is? Imade it in secret!” He argues, advancing a step and making you retreat one inturn. He might have the face of an angel but you swear there’s horns stickingout from his wavy hair.

“Do you think I’m stupid? Huh?” Youraise your hand, threatening to push the cup away if he brings it any closer.“You always try to give me whisky, or beer—you know ever since that time itmakes me want to vomit—”

Long story short, Taehyung attemptsto feed you the cursed drink, and in your struggle to get away you end upsmacking it out of his hands.

Of course, right in the line of firehappens to be someone approaching the three of you, mouth open to saysomething. The drink ends up all down their shirt and that is the very firsttime you unknowingly receive the infamous Min Yoongi Glare.

Which you realise moments later whenTaehyung laughs and introduces him as one of the members of the pack. Is it toolate to leave?)

You drink might have gone on Yoongi’sshirt and rendered it gross, but without even a blink he’d just taken thet-shirt off and revealed a pristine long-sleeved shirt underneath. You’d havebeen impressed if you weren’t so mortified at the time.

He doesn’t seem to be holding itagainst you, but you can’t really help the way you’re acting. There’s somethingabout him, an air that seems to reach and raise the hairs at the back of yourneck. He’s intimidating, even if he does look like a cat when he smiles atTaehyung being a dumbass. His energy says ‘I could snap you in half over myknee if I so wanted’, but his face says ‘All I want is a cookie and warm milk’.It gives you a bit of whiplash.

“There’s less people here than Ithought there would be,” Jimin comments after Taehyung finishes embarrassingyou. Yoongi hums, downing a generous shot of straight vodka and then smackinghis lips. Maybe you’re right to be scared.

“Nah, it’s the same as usual, it’sjust that they’re all outside.” Yoongi leans against the bench with his hip,scratching behind his ear. You refuse to acknowledge the thought you have thatlikens him to a dog using their back leg to scratch. No, that’s gonna get youbeat up and evicted from the party. Best to ignore that one.

“What are they doing? It’s kind ofcold for the pool.” Taehyung tilts his head.

Yoongi blinks at him, seeming amused.“They’re watching the usual event that goes down at these things. We’ve amassedquite the crowd for it tonight. Must be all the ones that Shownu’s packinvited.”

His words are vague, but both boysbeside you light up, apparently much more clued in than you.

“Oh, yes! I love it when thishappens! Plus, it’s been a while since I last joined in… I might have totonight. You wanna be my partner, Jiminie?”

Jimin snorts, already pushing offfrom the bench and grabbing your arm to begin dragging you. Yoongi watches themfor a moment before growing bored and turning back around, reaching for thebottle of Smirnoff.

“No thanks, I nearly wiped myself outlast time, remember? Just ask Kookie. You know he’ll be up for it the secondyou challenge him.”

Taehyung hums, joining his friend indragging you in the direction of two glass sliding doors. You’re so confused,and kind of scared. They won’t listen to you asking them where the hell you’regoing, though. Head empty, ears turned off.

Before you know it, you’re steppingout of the house and into the ‘yard’, for lack of better word. Your drink isstill in your hand and you’re trying desperately not to spill it as yourfriends grow more careless in their movements. Sometimes, you think they forgetthey’re werewolves with werewolf strength.

Outside is illuminated by stronglights attached to the back of the building, a pool set to the side and avast, clear field directly centre before you. There are a few groups of peoplejust milling about, minding their own business and having their own fun—inmultiple senses of the word, you note as you tear your eyes away from a couplein the corner with flaming cheeks. Will your mind have no choice but to leavethis party tainted? The rest of the people, what you would argue is a largechunk of the attending partygoers, are cheering and hollering towards the edgeof the clearing. Jimin and Taehyung seem unbelievably excited at this fact, andare quick to drag you over.

Very quickly are you enlightened asto what is happening, and you’re equal parts incredulous, impressed, andbaffled.

Put bluntly—they’re having werewolfraces.

Teens and young adults around youholler and cheer, a large portion of the amassed crowd hooting as two wolvestear across the grass, going so fast you almost fall over from the shock of it.You had no idea anything in this world could move that fast! Well, that’s alie, you knew about it. Still, seeing it is different!

Both wolves are massive, one colouredrosy gold and the other dark, speckled grey. They’re about the same size, youmanage to observe despite the blur of their movements, but the grey one is justa bit bigger, and leaner, while its companion is stockier. Oddly, despite thefact you’ve been here all of thirty seconds, you find yourself becomingentranced as you watch with bated breath to see who will be the winner of thisrace. What can you say, you’ve always been a sucker for a competition.

The finish line is marked by two binson the far right side of the clearing, and as the two wolves grow closer thesmaller one seems to gain more ground. The crowd goes off in anticipation. Youreally think that it might be the one to win, until the grey wolf lets out ashort yowl that sounds suspiciously like a laugh, and then proceeds to launchitself forward and to the side, just barely feet from the bins. It goes rightin front of the gold wolf, of course, and with an irate bark and a short growlthe two of them go down in a tangle of limbs, the race devolving into anabridged form of wolf wrestling. When they cross the finish line it’s as oneunit, and you can hear the disappointment in the crowd behind you.

“HAH Yugyeom is always such a dirtycheat, I don’t know why Jackson never remembers and always agrees to race him.”Taehyung is cackling beside you, Jimin joining his amusement, while you watchthe two wolves tumble and roll in a blur until they separate and instead of twohulking wolves, it’s two shirtless males falling back on the damp grass, theirpants looking like they’d seen better days.

“Woah,” you can’t help but remark,eyes wide. You’ve heard a lot about wolf transformations, but you didn’trealise it was so quick.

Almost as though he can read yourmind, Jimin shoots you an amused smile. “The closer it is to a full moon, theeasier it is to transform. It’s a lot harder, longer, sometimes more painfulwhen it’s a new or waning moon.”

You wince, but Taehyung’s optimisticchime clears the expression from your face. “Yeah, we’re so close to the fullmoon right now that we can change in just a few seconds. It’s much smoother,and less stressful on the body. Which is good, since the nearer we are to afull moon the more our wolf itches to get out.”

“A lot of little details go into yourlives huh,” you comment, marvelling at all the things you’re learning even now,almost half a year into knowing them.

“Yup,” Taehyung answers, though he’sremarkably distracted as he does so. He seems to be searching the crowd behindyou for someone, and you find out exactly who in the next moment. “Ah, there heis— Namjoon!”

You turn in the direction Taehyungwaved, catching sight of a tall male with an ashy, silver-hued undercutstanding a good few metres away, pink drink to his mouth. He nearly spills itwhen his name is called, though, and you quickly connect the stories you’veheard of him and his clumsiness with his face. Ah, at last, the man, the myth,the legend himself – the resident Wolf God of Destruction.

Clearly a little bit drunk, if theway he wobbles as he turns to face you, long limbs like jelly, is anything togo by, Namjoon waves enthusiastically.

“I thought I smelt you,” he says, andit takes a moment for you to remember that’s something normal for them. “Whattook you guysh so long?”

He’s much less intimidating thanYoongi, you observe, but at the same time there’s a different sort ofundercurrent that surrounds him. He’s intimidating in a different way, a waythat you can’t quite name or put your finger on—despite the fact you think youjust saw him spill a bit of his drink on his white t-shirt. Your suspicions areconfirmed when you see a splotch of pink bloom in the fabric moments later.

“We were dragging this one out,”Taehyung happily responds, slapping you on the back. You narrow your eyes athim; oh, you’ll remember his eagerness to humiliate you.

Namjoon, you’re pretty sure, hadn’teven realised you were there until Taehyung just pointed you out. “Oh, hello!”

“Joon, this is y/n, the friend wealways tell you about, the one we said we were bringing tonight,” Jiminintroduces, prompting you to do an awkward little wave. He then gestures to thetall male currently beaming at you with dimples on display. “y/n, this isNamjoon, our leader and one of the alphas of the pack.”

“It’s nice to meet you!” you greet,smiling brightly and allowing yourself to slip comfortably into your moreextroverted persona. “Thank you for letting me come tonight!”

Namjoon seems somewhat flustered atyour words. “Nice to meet you too, and it’s no problem—you’re welcome to come,you know, these things aren’t anything exclusive. Um, it’s kind of justwhoever… yeah.”

Taehyung snorts, apparently findingthe partway inebriation of his leader very funny. “Great, now she’s met almosteverybody. Where’s the rest?”

“Hope’s inside, probably practicingthe karma sutra with some poor soul,” Namjoon answers, swaying as he sculls therest of his drink. It takes all of your willpower not to sputter and guffaw athis words. He then jerks his thumb behind him. “As for dumb and dumber—they’reover there. They’ve been bickering about who’s faster for the past ten minutes,so they’re probably going to race soon.”

“Again?!” Taehyung groans, and you’reonly left wondering why for a moment before he continues and answers the silentquestion in your head. “I have hardly anything left in my wallet from lasttime, why are they going again?”

Jimin snorts. “It’s your own faultfor betting on the wrong party. You know it’s actually kind of impressive howyou manage to choose the one that loses every time. Maybe you’re a bad luckcharm.”

Insulted beyond belief, Taehyunggapes at his friend and packmate, looking to Namjoon every few seconds like achild looking to their parent and waiting for them to step in and scold theirsibling. Namjoon isn’t going to be any help anytime soon, however, as you turnyour gaze and catch him staring with a frown into the bottom of his cup withunwavering focus, like he was trying to figure out where his drink went. Apparently, this wasn’t his first one of the night.

Before Taehyung and Jimin cancontinue bickering any more, there is a commotion behind Namjoon that catchesyour collective attention. There’s movement in the crowd, people shuffling andshouting, some laughing and cheering, before two figures break out. One of themis in a headlock but quickly wriggles his way out, bolting your way—the otheris hot on his heels.

“You’ll never catch me, old man!” Itdoesn’t take you long to figure out that the one in front has no apparent fearof god or man. “You’re as slow as ever! I’m gonna run laps around youagain, just you watch!”

“YAH! If I’m so old then where’s therespect, huh?! I’m five years older than you, that’s five years I’ve spentrunning more—”

You knew they were heading in yourgeneral direction, but you didn’t realise that they were quite literallyheading straight for you, and by no means looking where they’re going. Theymove so fast that not even Taehyung or Jimin, let alone yourself, can warn themor move out of the way. All you know is that one second you’re standing therenursing your drink and preparing to take a sip, and the next you’ve been bowledto the ground, dampness seeping into your back and front.

(Faintly, you realise your drink hasended up all over your front, and you think you can hear Karma laughing in thedistance.)

Blinking, for a moment you worryyou’ve been concussed before your vision clears and you’re made aware of a veryheavy weight atop of you. Somewhat delayed, a small noise of pain escapes youand it seems to be what kicks the person atop of you into gear.

“Oh!” They’re scrambling off of youinstantly, still kneeling on the ground but no longer atop of you as you bringyourself to lean on your elbows with a groan. “Oh, I- I a-am so sorry, I w—”

You expect the apologies to continuewhen they cut off abruptly, and when the silence stretches on another momentyou look up in confusion. You feel your stomach flip at the sight of the boythat had knocked you over, boyish features frozen in a look that you have noidea how to interpret except for complete and utter surprise. He’s cute,you observe with only the slightest amount of shame, even when he looks like adeer caught in headlights. The dark curls atop his head and the dark cocoa ofhis eyes do him justice—wait, you could have sworn they were dark brown, but asyou look at him you swear you see the outside begin to tinge gold.

“Uh, it’s okay—” the words are moreautomatic than anything, and an attempt to fill the space left by the boy whois still sitting frozen and staring at you. You don’t even get to finishthough, cut off by the voice of the person who had been chasing this boy thatknocked you over like a pin in a bowling lane.

“Jungkook, you little brat! Look whatyou did, you went and knocked some poor girl over! You even spilt her drink onher shirt—what are you doing, get off her already you bratty pup—”

Arms slip under the boy and almosthaul him away, but froze in their motions. Your eyes fly to the face of theperson they belong to, and you feel your stomach flip once more, nerves andheartbeat off the charts. He’s older-looking, less boyish in the face than theboy that ran you over, but even so he’s probably one of the most strikinglyattractive people you’ve ever seen; and he’s frozen, staring at you with thatexact same caught-in-headlights look as the boy in his arms. You feel a wash ofheat flow along your back and crawl up your neck at the attention. Suddenly,your insecurities return from earlier. God, you knew it, you shouldn’t havecome—it’s because you’re human, isn’t it? They can clearly tell, and—

“y/n!”

It seems that Taehyung and Jimin’sfriend instincts have finally kicked in after a prolonged amount of timewherein you were left on the ground, and they both grasp an arm to haul you uponto your feet. The change in angle makes you acutely aware of the drinkdrenching your front and sliding down your skin. Oh, god, that’s going to be sosticky later.

“Are you—” Jimin barely gets tofinish asking if you’re okay before a sound you’ve never heard so close beforesplits the air and instantly raises the hair on the back of your neck, yourentire body stiffening.

Growling, low and so strong itresonates through your chest. Your eyes whip to the source, surprise washingover you to see that its those same two boys, eyes no longer dark as you’d justseen but flaring a peculiar gold that whirls like liquid. Instantly, you’reaware of how the air and crowd around you has suddenly stilled, all attentionon your little group. The growls continue until Jimin and Taehyung’s handsleave your arms, and then their attention is on each other.

If you thought the first sounds letout were terrifying, then the snarls that were let loose at each other weredownright bloodcurdling. You have no idea what has caused thesudden animosity between them, since they seem to be packmates, but for amoment you think they might be about to fight for real. The tension in the airmakes it hard to breathe as the sounds grow louder, boys leaning away from eachother and their forms beginning to tremble. Just as you think they’re about toshift, a stern voice cuts through the air.

“Stop.”

Instantly the snarling and growlingceases, the two boys stilling completely. The tension is cut as something elsewashes over the field.

It’s Namjoon who spoke, and thecommand in his tone makes your stomach clench and shoulders pinch in tension.He seems to be momentarily sober enough to reprimand the two, incredulous eyesgoing between each of them.

“Are the two of you seriously growlingand snarling at each other like pups right now? Are you kidding me?” He soundsalmost like an exasperated father as he snaps at the two, gaze whipping toTaehyung and Jimin to deliver a nod over his shoulder, before he continues hisscolding. “Both of you are fast! My gods, do you have to fight about this everytime we have a celebration? Honestly. Both of you go inside and cool downbefore I tell Yoongi and he beats your asses. I’m drunk, I shouldn’t have toeven—”

Regrettably, you don’t get to hear therest of the reprimanding. Taehyung and Jimin step in front of you, nudging andpushing you back before you realise they’re herding you away and you look tothem in confusion.

“Jungkookie and Jinnie are about toget in a lot of trouble, and there probably won’t be much fun and games afterthat, so we may as well go,” Taehyung says with a shrug, nonchalant as ever.There’s something different in his expression though, the barest hint ofconfusion; apparently his two other packmates don’t fight to that extent veryoften.

“But—but I’m not even drunk! I didn’teven get to finish my second drink!” you protest, eyes going to your shirtwhich now displays the fate of your poor, unfortunate drink.

“That’s fine, you have vodka at yourhouse right?” Jimin asks, continuing to urge you. “We’ll just get shitfacedthere. Dibs on the couch for sleeping tonight.”

At the unexpected and cruel twist offate that has left him allocated to sleeping on the floor of your unit,Taehyung lets out a whine. You leave the property at their urging, but can’thelp but feel a certain two pairs of eyes boring into your back the entire wayout.

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