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#we both literally only have one self care thing (washing our hair)
ragnar0c · 4 months
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Had a lot of life talks w/ my family and while expressing that I really just need money to exist rn had the terrible realization:
I think like Alope.
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stargazer-sims · 9 months
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Journal Entry #56 (part one)
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Journal Entry #55 (part two) // STORY INDEX
Yuri
Hello everyone.
I feel like it's been forever since I've recorded an update, or since I've recorded a sensible one, at least.
I'm more than a little embarrassed that I ended up posting my last one. Sharing it hadn't been my original plan, and my only excuse is that I uploaded it in a moment of poor self-control. Maybe I just wanted someone to feel as sorry for me as I was feeling for myself, or perhaps I thought it'd make me feel better to scream into the proverbial void.
In any case, I'm sorry.
Am I feeling better? The answer to that is complicated.
I assume Victor has told you about my G-tube? Once I didn't have any more pain from the surgery and my incision began to heal, I really did start feeling better physically. I'm able to be up and around for several hours at a time on most days, and I'm getting some of my strength back.
I'm not supposed to do anything too strenuous until my incision is fully healed, but I can do light housekeeping tasks like dusting furniture, washing dishes, and folding laundry, and I can manage all my own personal care now. I can finally give my poor neglected skin and hair the attention they deserve, and as soon as I'm up to it, I'm going for the most expensive and luxurious spa day anyone could possibly imagine. Manicure, pedicure, therapeutic massage, aromatherapy bath, facial... everything. Victor's already teasing me about it, naturally, but I don't mind.
Once I came home from the hospital after my surgery, Victor and I both got used to our new routine in practically no time at all. I was worried that Victor would be upset and stressed by the whole thing, and perhaps he was for the first day or two, but he seemed to relax when he realized how well I was coping.
Honestly, I've surprised myself a little with that. In the hospital, the nurses taught both Victor and me everything about the use and care of my tube, and I think at that point we all assumed Victor would be helping me tend to it a majority of the time. But, as it happens, I've been doing it almost entirely on my own, and it's... liberating. Yes, that's definitely the word. It's empowering to take charge of something, even if it isn't particularly important to anyone but me.
Usually, I have my formula while Victor eats, so we still share mealtimes. I can still eat and drink the usual way, so we enjoy our tea together as well, and sometimes I'll even have a small bite of whatever Victor's having. He's not allowed to feed me any more, though. The rule is that if I want to taste some of his food, I have to feed myself.
That may have been the most difficult adjustment for both of us, actually. We were put to our first test only a couple of days after I got home, when Victor made himself a fruit salad to go with his sandwich at lunch.
If I had to pick a favourite food, strawberries and peaches would be tied for top spot, and I'll confess, it was the aroma of the freshly cut strawberries that got me. That, and watching Victor handle chopsticks with his non-dominant hand. He made it look so effortless, and I marvelled at how quickly he'd mastered using them with his right hand.
The only thing at the table more beautiful and appealing than those plump, red strawberries in my husband's fruit salad was my gorgeous, talented husband, and I couldn't take my eyes off either one.
"Maybe it's a good thing you're not eating," Victor commented. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled at me, strawberry-laden chopsticks raised halfway to his mouth.
"What?" I stammered. "Why?"
"Because," he said. "You look so distracted, you'd probably drop half the stuff you tried to pick up."
"Oh. Sorry."
"You okay?"
"Yes," I said. "I'm just looking at your, ah... your strawberry."
Victor laughed out loud at that. "Mr. Okamoto-Nelson, are you trying to flirt with me?"
I could feel heat crawling up my neck and over my face. "Well, no. Not really. I'm literally looking at your strawberry. Could I... can I have it? Please?"
He flicked a glance down at the strawberry caught between his chopsticks, as if he was considering my request. Then he said, "Sure, you can have it," and reached across our tiny dining table toward me.
I started to lean forward out of habit, imagining he'd just pop the piece of fruit into my mouth. And then I remembered.
Victor must've realized at exactly the same time I did, because he abruptly drew his hand back. He dropped the strawberry onto the now-empty plate his sandwich had been on, and slid it across the table toward me with a murmur of, "Sorry."
The moment was jarring, and I almost changed my mind about eating the sweet fruit, but then I told myself that it wouldn't be polite to reject it after I specifically asked for it. I lifted my own chopsticks, thankful that Victor had the foresight to set out a pair for me, and plucked up the strawberry.
"You can do it," Victor said, his voice soft, as if I were engaged in some sort of contest and he didn't want to break my concentration.
I put the strawberry in my mouth, and I think I might've been close to tears with how intense the flavour was. I'm not sure why, but maybe it had something to do with not having performed the physical act of eating for well over a week. Without meaning to, I made a sound that was... Suffice it to say, it was the sort of sound Victor typically hears from me in a room other than the kitchen.
Victor was gazing at me with interest. "Okay, then. I guess you really were looking at my strawberry."
"Mm-hmm."
He pitched his voice low, and in a tone far too seductive for lunchtime on a Wednesday, asked, "Did you like it? Wanna do it again?"
I lost it, and my laughter must've been contagious because for the next minute or so, Victor and I could barely catch our breaths. My stomach was hurting by the time we both calmed down, but despite that, I felt good. Better than I'd felt in weeks, in fact. And I did eat another strawberry, which earned me a kiss from my husband who tasted slightly of strawberries too.
And before you ask, yes. 'Looking at one's strawberry' is now a playful inside joke between Victor and me, a euphemism for something entirely unrelated to fresh fruit.
Since then, I've eaten other foods, but for the most part I'm happier just to have my formula. The goal is for me to be able to eat normally and independently without the tube in the near future, but we're going to work up to that. For now, I only have to put food in my mouth when I'm comfortable doing so, which admittedly, isn't all that often. Honestly, it's been a huge relief not to have to worry about eating. It's taken an enormous load off me psychologically, which allows me to focus on other things.
There are plenty of other things to focus on. As relieved as I am not to have to struggle with food for the time being, my tube isn't a miracle cure for all my problems. There are still times when I don't want to do anything at all, even though I know I'm capable of it, and I still go to bed some nights vaguely hoping it'll be the last time.
When I feel that way, I tell Victor about it, and he does his best to reassure me. I didn’t want to talk about it with him at first, didn’t want to burden him, but I remembered what Mama had told me about keeping secrets. “A marriage can’t survive too many secrets,” she’d said, and I decided I needed to do my part to protect the bond Victor and I share, even if what I had to do would be hard.
It’s still not easy for me to open up about some subjects, but it’s getting somewhat less difficult with time and practice. I don’t think I could do it at all with anybody but Victor. He knows me better than anyone, and I trust him.
Oh… and since we’re on the subject of trust and sharing confidential information, I should probably finish telling you about my nutrition rehabilitation therapy, shouldn't I? In addition to working with the nutritionist and Dr. Kasongo, I've started seeing a psychologist, and believe me when I say that component of my therapy is not my idea of a good time.
There's no sense in mincing words; I hate it, and I don't think it's doing much good. Victor would likely say I need to give it a chance, considering that I've only been to two sessions with the psychologist so far, but I'm not certain I really want to.
As Victor might say, I'm not going to lie. I don't like the psychologist. He makes me uncomfortable and reminds me vaguely of my high school physical education teacher. That teacher was the sort of person who'd laugh and make fun of a student for not being able to catch a ball or for always finishing last in races instead of encouraging them and showing them how they could do better.
The psychologist gives off that same energy. I'm afraid to tell him my deepest thoughts. I don't trust him and I don't want to be judged by him for my anxiety and fear of something as inherent to life as eating. I'm not sure he'd even understand it anyway. Very few people do, but at least some try to, and those are the people I'd rather allow into my private life.
But, regardless of my feelings about the psychologist, I've resolved to keep seeing him because Victor really wants me to, and I don't want to disappoint him. It'll only be for a couple of months anyway, just until our move. I'm sure I can endure an hour a week with the man till then, and perhaps once Victor and I are settled in Willow Creek, I'll be able to find someone I actually like and who I might be able to build some trust with. I mean, I do understand the point of psychological therapy, and I might be willing to work at it if I thought I was being supported by someone who cares about my well-being.
If I could pick my ideal therapist, it wouldn't be a man. I'd choose a woman, preferably someone around my mother's age, and perhaps with a soft voice like hers as well. She'd be someone I could feel safe with, and who I might eventually start thinking of as an honorary auntie, if that makes sense. I don't think that's too high an expectation, do you?
But, enough about that. Besides my ongoing health issues, a lot has happened since the last time I was able to record a journal entry, and I'm not even sure where to start describing it all. I know Victor has been keeping our journal up-to-date, so perhaps I'll just hit the high points of what's been going on since his last entry.
I suppose the most significant bit of news is that Victor and I are officially uncles. Our nephew Kinai was born a week ago, on the fourteenth of March. He entered the world eight days past his due date, for anyone who cares about that sort of thing, and according to my mother, he's a very big newborn at 4.1 kilograms. Apparently, that's nearly three times as big as me when I was born. Mama says I was only 1.4 kilograms, which probably isn't all that surprising, considering I arrived dangerously early. She used words like 'solid' and 'thriving' to describe Kinai, which I'm sure are descriptors that never would've been applied to me during my first days of life. I was probably 'fragile' and 'high-risk'.
Personally, I couldn't care less how much Kinai weighs, how chunky he is, or whether he's got Hana's nose or Ren's ears. My plan is to stay as uninvolved as possible. If you want the truth, I'm quite literally repulsed by anything that has to do with my sister Hana and her deplorable boyfriend Ren, and although I know it's not Kinai's fault that he has monsters for parents, I really don't have any interest in interacting with him in any case.
Victor knows how I feel, but we only talked about it once because I don't think it'd be very nice of me to keep bringing it up and dampening his enthusiasm. He's thrilled about being an uncle, and I love seeing how excited and happy he is. I don't want to take that joy away from him.
Victor has already been to my parents' house to meet Kinai, and I think he fell in love with him at first sight. My parents are absolutely smitten with their grandson too, and I'm sure I don't have to tell you how Auntie Yuki is taking the situation. She's positively over the moon.
As for Hana, she was quick to flee as soon as she got out of the hospital. Initially, we thought she might try to cause trouble over Mama and Papa's intention to seek an order for custody of Kinai, but she shocked us all when she said it didn't matter to her who took him, as long as she didn't have to deal with it. Our parents had already engaged a lawyer, and she was able to draw up some sort of document for Hana and Ren to sign that effectively stated they relinquished all custodial rights to Kinai. I don't think Mama and Papa even needed to go to court at all.
According to Yuki, our resident source of family gossip, Ren's parents didn't object to our parents getting custody of Kinai. I figured it was because the judge and his wife are quite a bit older than Mama and Papa and they didn't want to take on the responsibility of raising another child at this point in their lives, but Yuki had a completely different theory.
"Know what I think, Yuri?" she asked. There was a conspiratorial little gleam in her eyes that can only be produced by a precocious ten and a half year old who thinks she's more clever than most of the adults around her.
Our parents had dropped Yuki off earlier that day, to have dinner and spend the night at our place. She was standing on a step-stool at the counter, watching me prepare my formula, while Victor was at the other side of our small kitchen cutting up chicken and vegetables to make stir-fry for her and himself.
"What do you think?" I responded.
"I think Ren's parents didn't want Kinai because they don't really believe he's their grandson," she said.
That was an angle that hadn't occurred to me. It obviously hadn't occurred to Victor either, because he set his knife down and turned in our direction. "What makes you think that, Yuki-chan?" he asked.
"Because," Yuki said. "I overheard Papa talking to Ren's father about a DNA test. I watch television. I know what DNA tests are for. And I know for sure it was Ren's father Papa was taking to because he called him by name."
"So, you think your dad wants Ren and Kinai to have a DNA test to prove whether they're related or not?" Victor said. "You think Judge Kitagawa's gonna go for that?"
"I think it was the judge's idea," said Yuki. "I think he wants to make Ren do it."
"Talk about legal drama," Victor said.
I don't think there'll be much legal drama on that front. If the judge is serious about wanting to prove Kinai's paternity, Ren isn't going to have much say in the matter. I'm not closely acquainted with Nori Kitagawa, but I do know him well enough to say with confidence that I wouldn't dare to disobey an order from him. Ren may be thuggish and stupid, but even he isn't dumb enough to contradict the judge when he means business. Plus, Ren can't run or hide from him now.
If anyone were to ask me, I think the real legal battle might come from that American couple with whom Hana and Ren had been trying to arrange the so-called private adoption. Yes, the people who wanted to name the baby Arrow. I'm sure Victor has told you all about that. Of course, it's just speculation on my part. I have no idea how the American family might react. We'll have to wait and see.
I may not know anything for certain about my parents' potential legal troubles, but something I can tell you about is the tangled mess Hana is in. The judge was not inclined to be dismissive when it came to the theft of his vehicle and credit cards and his wife's expensive jewellery, nor was Uncle Kaz well pleased about Hana breaking into the home Victor and I have been renting from him. It's no secret that Mama and Papa are making her take full responsibility for her actions, and that they aren't going to try to pull any strings on her behalf. We all know that taking responsibility isn't something Hana excels at, and I think she ran because she's ashamed to face any of them.
Currently, none of us knows where she is. It's safe to assume she hasn't left Japan because the police still have her passport, as far as I know, but she's definitely not anywhere in the town of Mt. Komorebi. She's got a handful of serious criminal charges against her now, and my guess is that she's with friends in Kyoto, probably trying to concoct some sort of scheme to get out of the legal nightmare she's created for herself.
Before I move on from the judicial updates, there's even more news that I'd be remiss if I didn't mention. We may not know Hana's whereabouts, but I'm able to say with satisfaction that we know where Ren Kitagawa is. He is in jail, which in my opinion is exactly where he belongs.
Ren's trial for assaulting Victor at the fitness centre was supposed to have started on the twenty-eighth of February, but due to Victor's accident and our concerns that he wouldn't be well enough to go to court and testify by then, the court agreed to push the trial date forward until the first week of May. We agreed because we really didn't have much choice, but that date gave Victor and me just as much anxiety as the February one did. We're leaving the country on the fifteenth of May and we were worried that any further complications in the process would interfere with our move.
In the end, fortune must've been on our side. The very day in February that the trial was originally scheduled to begin, Victor received a phone call from someone at the office of Kensatsu-chō — the public prosecution service — who told him that Ren had decided to change his plea to guilty. They explained that the matter would proceed directly to sentencing, which was scheduled for the tenth of March, and they asked if Victor and I wanted to be there. Victor told them no. Neither of us had any desire to make a trip to the district court in Kyoto for that.
We found out later that Ren was sentenced to eighteen months' imprisonment. Papa speculated that he probably won't serve the entire time in a jail cell, but that he'll be let out about a third of the way through and then spend the rest of the time on supervised release. From what I understand, that's basically house arrest. At this point, though, I don't even care. Victor and I will be long gone before he gets out, and we'll be far enough away that he'll never be able to hurt either of us again.
I thought I'd have a completely different set of emotions upon learning that Ren is locked up and being punished for what he did. I imagined I'd feel vindicated, that I'd be happy and excited and in a mood to celebrate, but that's not how it was at all. The moment we hung up from that phone call, I just clung to Victor and cried because I was so relieved.
All I remember about the following few minutes was Victor holding me as tightly as he could with his one good arm and murmuring into my hair, "It's all right, Yuri. The worst is over. We're going to be okay."
I might not have been able to believe that before, but each day I'm finding myself a little more hopeful that the worst really is over. I don't expect my life to be perfect, or even what most people would call normal, but I'll happily settle for being okay.
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chanluster · 3 years
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10/10 | {m} ; {c} ; {f}
oneshot | friends with benefits! au | 18.7k words
“Because what you feel for your best friend cannot be described in words, but in numbers.”
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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. 
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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.
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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. 
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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.”
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bokettochild · 3 years
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The Worries and Woes of Heroic Hair
Y'all were busting out hair headcannons before I left, so I saved a few and wrote a fic for them.
Featuring:
Pre-maturely grey Twilight
Curly haired Legend
Long haired Four
(As well as a reference to long hair Sky)
Warriors had gained the unfortunate title of ‘pretty boy’.
In a group of beautiful men and boys that literally sent women swooning, no matter what world they were in, he’d somehow been labeled the “pretty” one. Never mind he was more mature looking than half of their number. Never mind that Legend and Hyrule looked like a pair of porcelain dolls hand painted by a master artist. Never mind that Wild literally had half of his world falling heels over head for him. No matter how many women in the War of Ages had gushed about the adult Hero of Time (much to Mask’s annoyance). And sure, let’s just forget that Wars had heard not one, but two princess’s complimenting Twilight’s ass.
Yeah, okay, he was the pretty boy, sure.
Maybe that was because he was the only one in the group that actually had any understanding of a little thing called personal hygiene! Honestly! Had no one introduced the vet to a bathtub when he was younger? Or Wild to a hairbrush? And Hyrule... oh Hyrule...
Honestly, it was a pain, trying to not say something to his brothers that might be taken as rude or offensive. At least his own two boys were a bit better. During the war he’d pounded some sense into their heads after scrubbing their ears clean enough that they could actually hear him when he spoke, and Time and Wind both showed some (although not much more than the others) level of personal grooming, even if it was the basic wash and brush that Wars had required of all of his soldiers.
The others though? He had been beginning to think they might be hopeless, but then he’d had a chance to do something about it.
“Wars?”
“Hmm?” Bright blue darted up from the journal Warriors had been writing in, meeting Wind’s pout with a soft chuckle at his baby-faced brother. One day, Wind would be as grizzled and scruffy as his grandfather (would be his grandfather) but for now he would take him time teasing the kid for his baby-face. After all, it wasn’t like he’d be getting another chance to get revenge on the man who’d teased him up to his wedding day for his “lack of masculine charm”.
“My hair is knotted. In the back.” Wind didn’t even bother waiting for a signal, instead just plopping down in the captain's lap and dropping a brush by his knee. And really, with how the war had gone, Warriors should have expected that.
Any injury that impeded movement meant Wars was helping his two boys with whatever was needed during the war, and near the top of that list had been brushing hair. Broken arm or sprained wrist or whatever Hyrule had diagnosed it as (he’d been a bit too wrapped up in helping hold Wild still so he and Legend could treat the kid’s crushed hand to hear the healer’s final word), he was always happy to help the younger hero sort out his problems.
At least Wind let him help, instead of sending him scandalized looks and rude signs at the mere mention of a bath, like Legend did, or simply darting away like Hyrule.
“Wind,” Sky frowned slightly. “You didn’t have to disturb Wars, any of us would have been willing to help.”
The sailor cocked a brow, leaning back into his touch as he worked over the knot with nimble fingers well accustomed to working through tangled golden curls. “Says the Hero of Eternal Bedhead.”
Crystal blue eyes darted up to messy bangs. “Is it really that bad?”
“Yes.” Sailor and captain deadpanned together, matching grins on their faces as they stared at the Skyloftian.
“Oh feathers.” Sky huffed, running his hands through his hair and looking at the two expectantly. “Is that better?”
Wind snorted. “Sky, you need a hairbrush for your bird’s nest.”
“But,” Sky cocked his head like a confused puppy. “I don’t have a bird’s nest?”
“He means that your hair is a mess.” He chuckled, pausing in his work to pat the ground at his side. “Here, I’ll do you next, ‘kay?” And bless Sky for being a patient and reasonable person, because at the very least the Skyloftian just sauntered over easily and sat hot-cross-buns on the ground beside him, watching lazily as he worked at the sailor’s messy hair.
“It’s not that bad,” The Sailor huffed. “You can’t honestly be taking this long.” The kid wasn’t fooling him though, Wind was leaning into the touch, almost slumped against his chest in a boneless pile of teenager.
“You’re dry as a desert.” He scolded softly in response, rubbing some of the bristly hair between his fingers. “I’ve told you salt water dries your hair out, you need to take care of it or it’ll never grow out properly.”
Wind shifted awkwardly. “I didn’t have time. I did try, I mean it! It just... We’re always so busy and...”
His hands were already reaching for his pack. “You’re lucky mine dries out too. I’ll need to get more in the next town, but I think this oil can last us both long enough to get you some again.”
“Oil?” Sky frowned thoughtfully. “What for?”
“Split ends and dry hair.” Came the practiced answer as he rubbed the substance in question over his hands and began to card it through the sailor’s parched curls. “I suppose you could say it’s like with birds. They have to oil their feathers to stay healthy, right?”
“Oh! Okay, yeah, that makes sense.” The Skyloftian mulled over the concept for a moment. “We need to do that to our hair?”
Long fingers stopped mid stroke, royal blue blinking slowly in the clueless sky child’s direction. “Oh, you poor, clueless bird-boy you, your hair must be parched!”
Wind’s giggles shook them both, but Sky simply looked hurt. “I try. How was I supposed to know?”
Fingers slick with hair oil curled to point at the other hero. “I am massaging this stuff into your thirsty scalp right now. Wind, move.”
The sailor tumbled, giggling from Wars’ lap, leaving Sky to stare down at the captain’s crossed legs. “I’m- Warriors I am not sitting in your lap.”
“I don’t expect you to.” Brush in one hand and bottle of hair oil in the other, Warriors moved to stand behind the Skyloftain. “Just stay right there and let me work, and I swear if someone else tells me to my face that they’re not taking care of themselves- Sky! Look at this!”
The Skyloftian shifted, trying to look for only a moment before huffing. “Warriors, I can’t see the top of my own-”
“When’s the last time you trimmed this?” Brittle tips crinkled under his fingers as he stared at the mess that was Sky’s hair. “Your split ends are horrible!”
“Crimson usually trims it for me.” Came the softly mumbled response, and Wars had to hold back an affronted squawk at the words.
“You’re entrusting the care of your hair to a bird? Sky, my lovely, my dear friend, my brother, what the actual Ladies?”
“He does a good job!”
“If you call this rat’s nest a good job! Honestly, it’s no wonder Legend finally agreed to let you cuddle him, he must feel right at home with this mess!”
“Ouch.” Sky huffed, crossing his arms loosely and pouting.
“That aside,” He began working the first knot out, fluffing Sky’s hair lightly in his fingers. “It’s a good color, nice volume too. Have you ever considered growing it out? Without the split ends?”
“Huh?”
Caramel hair parted easily in his hands, springy and soft despite the brittle ends. “You’d look fetching with long hair, Chosen One. My, imagine what Sun would say if she saw you!” Sky stiffened as the soldier ducked down, voice lowering and eyes glinting with mischief as he whispered in his friend’s ear. “If she wasn’t already swooning at seeing you again, she’d be dizzy at the sheer beauty.”
“Wars!” Long ears twitched, tellingly red as the Skyloftian battled a fierce blush.
But the captain was already lost in his rant, taking pleasure in making Wind continue to giggle as Sky whined softly in protest at his teasing. “I can see it now! You arrive fresh out of battle, sword in hand and hair whipping in the wind, cape swirling like the wings of the goddess herself! She sees you. Your eyes meet. You shoot her one of your dashing smiles and she stumbles back, breathless, and you have to dart forwards to catch her before she swoons away altogether, so bedazzled she is by your handsome visage!” He flourished with a smile, letting oiled locks fall over Sky’s eyes with a laugh as the Skyloftian blushed brighter, not bothering to shift his bangs and instead hiding behind them, trying and failing to hide a pleased smile.
Wind didn’t stop giggling until Sky had had to punch the captain in the leg to make him finally cease the teasing.
“Smithy,” Twilight’s laughter rung through camp as he brushed long bangs out of the smithy’s eyes, the younger hero still smushed against the rancher's side sleepily, headband askew and half hanging in his eyes. The boy’s hair curtained his face, falling back into place the moment Twilight lifted his hand again, producing rumbling laughter form the farm-hand. “Four, you- when in Ordonia’s name did you last trim your hair?”
“’s not that long.” Came the murmured reply as Four pressed his face further into Twilight’s side, nestling closer with an irritable huff. “Leave ‘lone, Twi.”
The smithy might have denied it but... his hair really had grown out.
It wasn’t really that apparent with the headband keeping it back, and Four was decent enough at keeping his hair out of his face. But headbands, no matter how trusty, didn’t stay up forever, and when one was as active as a Hero of Courage, it wasn’t uncommon to find one’s self with their hair swinging loose in battle. Not that most of them minded, Wild kept his hair tied carefully and Legend tucked all of his under a hat, meanwhile the others all had shorter locks that, other than the swishing of their bangs, mostly stayed out of their faces.
Four on the other hand...
Four’s headband had fallen loose into a mud puddle, and until he was able to clean it the smithy had been walking around like a sheepdog, bangs fluffing into his eyes and making the shortest hero huff in an annoyed manner as he kept swiping his bangs aside. Unfortunately, they weren’t long enough to tuck behind his ears, only to hang in his face and send him stumbling over and into all sorts of things with sharp yelps and soft swears as the hero closest to him would have to offer a hand or scoop up the small smithy again.
Wars didn’t say anything, but when Four finally approached him one evening, eyes flickering icy blue as he dashed his bangs out of the way and tugged at the scarf draped around the captain’s neck (the others’ favorite way of getting his attention he had found).
“Hey there, smithy, what’s up?”
“Cut them.” Four huffed, pushing the loose hair back again only to have them drift back over his glinting eyes, and then, as if an afterthought, he tacked on ‘Please?’.
Royal blue darted up to Sky, who smiled on the edge of the campfire, a knowing look in his eyes. “Did Sky tell you I could help?”
“No. I figured that out myself. He just... pushed me.”
Laughter bubbled up in his chest. “Ah.”
“So, can you help? Or do I need to wander around looking like a Mogma?” Sky could be heard muttering across the camp at that, and Four’s ears twitched as he huffed, clearly having taken offense at whatever had been said.
He nodded, a bit unsure why Four glared across the fire at Sky, but willing to help. Oh goddesses, was he willing to help; Four’s hair bugged him nearly as much as Wild’s did, and he had been dying to fix it for the smithy. He wasn’t sure what Sky had said, but he was thankful for the other knight’s willingness to aid him in his battle against poor hygiene, and if he could turn another hero with the power of a good haircut, well! “Anything you have in mind? Just what you had before, or...?”
“Bangs.” Four dropped down hot-cross-buns, just like Sky had the other day, in front of him, arms crossed and expectant as he huffed at his long bangs.
“Right.” His brush and scissors were already sitting at the ready as he reached out to gently push the hair out of his friend’s eyes. “You good?”
“Annoyed.” Four sulked. “I can’t see anything and Twilight has been called me a sheep-dog.” Accurate. “I just want my hair short again, but the last time I cut it, it looked like I was attacked by a cat.” The smithy shivered, clutching at his sleeves as he shook his head, hair falling back into his eyes as he did so. “I just let it grow after that, but the bangs bother me if I can’t push them back.”
“Noted.”
Four’s hair was a bit silkier than the others’, but similarly brittle, although that was likely due to the heat of the forge rather than sea salt and extended time in the sky. He didn’t even bother asking about oiling the locks as he worked, brushing out all of Four’s hair with care and sectioning out the bangs with the same amount of agonizing detail Legend put into his paintings or Wild put into his cooking.
“Hair cut?” Twilight called from across camp.
“You could use one too,” Four huffed, unmoving save for his eyes darted to glance over his shoulder. “Your hair is beginning to look like wolf ears, rancher. Wolfie might take offense that you’re stealing his look and come maul you.”
Chuckles sounded around the camp, Legend wheezing lightly while Time and Wild shared a look. Wars didn’t know what that was about, but he smiled as he worked, humming lightly under his breath as he clipped a bit here and a touch there, releasing the hair to stare at it, adjusting it a bit, taking another section in hand and snipping it, and repeating the whole process.
Four was still as a statue the whole time, occasionally humming along to whatever tune happened to be on Warriors’ mind at the moment, but otherwise as poised and picturesque as a statue as the captain worked over the smithy’s blond locks.
This close up, Warriors was beginning to wonder why they never met any lovely admirers of the smithy, Four was certainly not lacking in the looks department, and had the kid lived in his time he’d find himself having to beat off girls with a stick. Honestly, how was he the pretty boy here?
“Nearly done?” Came the patient hum, and he snapped himself back to reality as he brushed Four’s bangs back into place, trimmed and tidy, along with the rest of his short hair.
“Yep.” The scissors finally came to rest in his lap as he whisked away the cloak that he’d used to catch the trimmed hairs. “My, my, smithy, you almost look as if you were going courting! Legend, lend a man your shield for a tick, would you? Four needs to see his new cut.”
The veteran rolled his eyes, but the shield was offered readily enough when Four trotted his way over, and while the smithy looked a bit surprised that Wars had bothered to braid most of his hair out of the way during the cut, he didn’t look at all displeased.
Wars counted that as a win.
He’d run out of oil a few days ago, and already his hair was beginning to frizz in this thrice-forsaken heat.
Being born with curly hair was nothing of the blessing his mother had made it out to be, no matter how she liked playing with her ‘baby boy’s’ hair. Of course, his beloved liked it too, but he was going to chalk that up to being a woman thing, curls were a pain if they weren’t on kids, especially if they were eon him.
Thank Hylia that Lilith had taught him to straighten it all out, he would have been driven half out of his mind if he hadn’t been able to control it on his way through basic, and the teasing would have been so much worse than it actually had been.
As was, the captain was only too happy when they next came to his Castletown, and after he’d made sure the others were settled in the castle with his cousin, he’d gracefully made his exit and headed out to the town. Getting through the streets was a pain, his armor and scarf giving him away as the hero and practically inviting the whole market to start competing for his attention, along with the hundreds of shoppers who surged close with questions and thanks and admiration. Not for the first time, Warriors found himself thankful that he handled crowds better than many of his fellow soldiers, and even if all the attention was a bit much, he wasn’t overwhelmed like poor Wild would have been.
Oh heavens, the day they finally figured out how to explain the portals and heroes nonsense to the public to excuse the sudden aging of the Hyrulian Hero’s child, Wild was likely going to have to start wearing a hood or something when they went into town.
The dye shop was a way into the market, and it had taken quite the bit of fancy footwork to avoid stepping on anyone as he’d answered questions and received thanks from the enthusiastic, if not slightly push, people of Hyrule. If he closed the door of the shop after him with a sigh of relief though, that was between him and Gyssel, the shopkeeper.
“Back again, Link? Same materials as the last time?”
“If you please.” He nodded with a smile. “Though I might have a bit of a glance around, I’ve a friend in need of a few things.”
The old woman nodded with a chuckle. “Right then. Oh, and if you see those two lovely gents who popped in here earlier, would you be willing to lend ‘em a hand? Poor dears looked lost as two minish in a fairy pond when they stumbled in here, but I’ve been batting a thousand with the customers all day and haven’t had a chance to pop over and offer help. You know the shop same as I do, so, if you have a moment, could you check in on them while I wrap your things?”
“Of course.” He nodded, smiling his best as he moved towards the back wall.
The other voices in the shop were mostly those of tittering ladies and mischief making pranksters, all too young and too high to belong to the ‘lovely gents’ that Gyssel had been speaking of, and it wasn’t hard to trail the rumble of a man’s voice to the back of the store where the hair dyes were. He grinned as he rounded the corner, but froze when he found himself face to face with a startled, and maybe somewhat abashed rancher.
“Twilight?”
“Warriors?”
“Shit, Wars is here?”
Royal blue darted down to meet the snapping violet of the veteran. “Legend? What are the two of you doing in here of all places? Are you lost?”
“No.” Legend huffed, foot tapping agitatedly at the floor as he gnawed his bottom lip, a sure sign of awkwardness if one knew the vet.
“What are you doing- oh.” Twilight’s face faded from confusion to understanding. “You’re the city boy, of course you shop in joints like this.”
He cocked a brow, hands coming to rest on his hips as he stared down the two other heroes. “Says the guy who’s been wandering around looking for something long enough the owners worried. Honestly, what could the two of you even need?”
Midnight and violet glanced warily at each other, and to his surprise, twin flushed lighted his friend’s faces as Legend had crossed his arms and Twi had rubbed at his neck.
“Hair dye.” The rancher admitted softly.
“And shampoo.” Legend had tacked on.
Warriors let his eyes blow wide an overdramatic gasp sounding in the small corner of the shop as he rested a hand on his collar. “Why, vet, you don’t mean to tell me you’re planning on actually taking a bath, are you! My heavens, what next? Will Hyrule somehow produce a wedding cake in time for Time and Malon to announce they’re having a baby?”
“They’re what!?!” Twilight yelped, sounding, ridiculously, like a dog that has just been kicked.
“I’m teasing, rancher.” He chortled. “Trust me, if Time knew of such a thing, he wouldn’t have shut up about it. Miss Malon’s still trim and terrifying as last we saw her; I have little doubt.” At the rancher’s breath of relief, he shook his head. “Honestly though, soap? Vet, last I checked-”
“It’s hot.” Legend interrupted, avoiding meeting his gaze by rolling his eyes.
“And?”
“And in case you didn’t know, our resident vet is a-”
“Don’t say it!” Legend huffed, glaring at Twilight and tugging his blue cap tighter over his head.
Come to think of it, Legend hadn’t taken the baby-blue cap off in ages...
“Is a what?”
Twilight looked down warily at the seething veteran, face twisted up between a playful grin and a wary frown, as if he didn’t yet know whether he wanted to tease and face the vet’s wrath or hold his tongue and avoid making a scene.
“Look,” Warriors sighed, glancing between the two country boys with a sigh. “I won’t tease at all, alright? But the sooner you own up to whatever nonsense you did to yourself, the sooner we can find you what you need and get ourselves out of here.”
The flush on Legend’s face darkened, eyes darting down as the vet shuffled his feet, and Wars found himself being reminded that for all the vet’s snark and sass, he really was as much of a kid as Wild and Wind were, just more accustomed at having to act otherwise.
Thin fingers rubbed at the rings on the vet’s pale hands. “Well, you see- that is- augh!”
Something inside him blossomed with warmth, a smile stretching across his face. Golden Three, Legend really was just an awkward teenager, wasn’t he? He even stumbled over his words when he was embarrassed, just like Time used to. Of course, Time had been twelve and Legend was nineteen, but that was beside the point.
“So-” The vet was nearly pouting as he struggled with his words, fingers rubbing steadily at his rings as he avoided Wars’ gaze. “You know how Ravio has curly hair?”
“Yes.”
“And you know how Ravio and I are- uh, each other's- reflect-”
A laugh bubbled out of his throat unexpectedly as he reached out to ruffle what could be seen of the vet’s frizzy bangs. “You’re a curly top! Why didn’t you say sooner?” Legend glared at him with a huff, but violet didn’t shift to indigo, so he knew it was all just an act. “Wind and I are too, I was actually in here to get some things for the two of us, and Sky too. I can help you as well if you don’t mind, just let me-” He motioned to the blue cap that was pulled snig down to Legend’s ears.
The vet huffed, but reached up to finger the blue fabric. “You won’t laugh, right?” Stern eyes met his own.
“Of course.” He smiled reassuringly.
Legend’s gaze searched his face for a moment, wary, but open, and even if it made him uncomfortable (the odd glint of gold at the edges of the vet’s eyes was a bit unsettling) he withstood it until Legend nodded, seemingly to himself, and pulled off his cap.
Pink curls spilled down to the vet’s shoulders as a bright blush colored pale cheeks. Twilight didn’t make it any better by reaching over to ruffle the vet’s head, chuckling soft and warm and surprisingly fond as Legend hissed back at him.
“Can I- that is- do you mind if I touch? I can help you find what you want better if I know what you need.”
A stiff nod.
The pink hair was just like fairy-floss, but less sticky (still dirty though) and he had to remind himself what he was doing once he got his fingers in it. A quick check at the texture and ends of Legend’s hair, as long as a quick check of the scalp and roots told him all he needed.
“Whatever dye you used to do this messed you up, vet. Honestly, I don’t know what you were thinking, but you’re dry as a mulduga’s arse. Did you bleach your hair before dying it or something?” There was a murmur in reply, but not anything he could really make out. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I said that’s me natural color.” Legend huffed, tensing under his hands. “I bleached it blonde a few months back, but no, I didn’t dye this shit, it just happened.”
Twilight, very unhelpfully, giggled.
Warriors blinked. “You have pink hair?”
“Yes.”
He fought the chuckle that built up in his chest, but it did little good as he ruffles the frizzy curls and let Legend replace his hat. “Alright then! Well, I’d avoid bleaching again if I was you. The pinks out and it’s healthier if you give it a rest between dyes. I have to admit though,” He settled his hands on his hips and looked between the two other heroes with a smirk. “I never took either of you two as the sort to dye your hair.”
“Throws off the guards.” Legend huffed, tugging his cap back over his hair and making Warriors wince. Ah yes, Legend’s Hyrule’s guards.
“Fair enough. I can find you something to help with the drying out and dye damage. Twi though...” He frowned, stroking his chin in thought. “Why do you even need hair dye? Trying something new?”
Now it was the rancher’s turn to look embarrassed, rubbing at his neck and ruffling his hair. “No, actually. I jist need- rather- want? I guess? I-”
Legend huffed, patting the rancher’s arm in a rare show of compassion. “He’s been greying early and it’s making him self-conscious. I told him we could look for a dye to hide it, since he didn’t want to go about stealing Time’s position as the resident Old Man.”
Oh. Well, that made sense. “Right! Fair enough. So, you want your natural shade, yes?” At the rancher's nod he pressed on, clapping his hands as he listed what they needed. “So, hair oil, some dye, and shampoo for Legend, preferably meant for damaged and curly hair. Anything else?”
Even though the two shook their heads, they all walked out with a bit more than what Warriors had listed, but despite the fact that Legend complained about it all, no one seemed to mind too much when he pulled the three of them together after the others had gone to bed and helped show them had to use the various toiletries without making too very much of a mess. It cost a pretty penny to get them all sorted, but Legend was clean, Twilight was a brunette again (the silver streaks were rather fetching though, and he’d made sure to make sure Twilight knew that before they dyed it all away) and Wind and Sky had what they needed to prevent their hair drying out again.
And even if it made a sizable dent in his wallet, he’d refused to be paid back. It was worth it anyway, since now he and Legend both had straight hair again (and the vet had actually washed!).
He could see now why Wild and Hyrule liked playing with their respective mentors’ hair though, it was almost addictive.
Time took one look at the three youngest and groaned, and Warriors almost echoed the action.
“What were you three even doing?” His now-eldest huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh as he tried not to look at the three teens, all of which were covered in mud and grass stains, and only looking slightly remorseful, despite their horrid clothing and scraped faces.
Had it been anyone but Wild and Wind, Wars would have sat back and watched as karma paid her long overdue visit to the mischievous mask-loving hero, but since it was his kids that caught up in paying back the silver in his own hair, Wars had to stand with Time and try his very hardest not to chuckle at the sight before him.
It took no trouble at all to picture Mask sitting, unrepentant, amid the other youngsters, a challenging look on his face as he dared the captain to even try and ground him for running off again.
“We were exploring.” Hyrule grinned sheepishly, rubbing at the mud that had dried on the side of his neck. “We um-”
“We fell in a swamp.” Wild snorted, wrinkling his nose and shaking some gunk from his hands with a pout. “Even I think we stink.”
Time’s lips twitched, brows struggling to remain in a scowl as he answered, voice wavering with a hint of laughter that made Wars smile to himself. “Is that so, Cub?”
“We smell like boko guts.”
“Or boko crap!” Wind cackled, the only one not soaked in swamp goo but instead spattered with ordinary mud that came from likely tripping and falling in the dirt from laughing too hard.
“Bathe.” Time chuffed, shaking his head fondly. “All three of you. Rivers there and I’m sure Wars has soap aplenty to help.” Hang on, what? Time’s eye met his own, blinking- winking? with a bright and shit eating grin. “Have fun with you sons, dad.”
Oh Ladies, Karma messed up again, didn’t she?
“Mask, I swear-” He growled, glaring at his- was Time his eldest now? His middle child still? The youngest since he’d been the last to join the family?
“Don’t, you’ll set a bad example.” The overgrown forest gremlin chuckled, walking away with a condescending pat of the shoulder.
Some things really never changed, huh?
“Right then.” the captain turned to glare stillness back into the three youngsters, two of which were already trying to sneak away, and the third- of thank Hylia for Wind, the kid was standing at perfect attention with a smirk on his face that screamed ‘I’m the eldest and I’m about to watch my little brothers get scolded and I’m going to enjoy every second of it’, snotty little salt-bathed brat. “Jump in or I punt you.”
Hyrule and Wild exchanged a look, a sure sign of danger, and both sprinted in opposite directions.
He huffed a laugh. Amateurs. Mask and Wind had run him ragged during the war, but once you’ve fought to pre-teens on the daily, there's nothing a pair of teenagers can pull on you that will truly surprise you or throw you off. It was the work of moments to have Wild slung under one arm (wolf pups, honestly, Mask was the same way) and Hyrule by the back of his collar (Wind’s customary position).
“H-how?” Both boys stammered.
“Experience, mud moblins.”
“Do I weight anything to you?” Wild stammered, staring up at him with wide blue eyes.
The grin on his face was easier than usual in situations like these, but then again both teens had given up fighting against him sooner than the last two had ever done. “Hardly. You’ve always been a lightweight.” And with those words he promptly administered a light kick to Hyrule’s lower back, knocking the kid floundering into the stream, and following up with a well-practiced toss that send Wild rocketing in after.
Wind, already stripped down to his shorts and standing waist deep in the water, raised his hands with a shit eating grin. “Six out of Ten, Wild.” The little sea monster called to a spluttering Wild as the kid surfaced, only his face peeking above the surface as he treaded water with a pout. “You need to work on your form, but otherwise- ack!”
A wave splashed up from Hyrule’s direction and Wild sent an appreciative grin the other boy’s way while Wind’s grin melted into a playful one, eyes glinting dangerously.
“Oh, that’s it! You’re just asking for trouble now! Never start a water battle with a pirate, you two, you won’t like how it ends!”
Another, mischief filled, glance was exchanged and both feral heroes descended on the young sailor. It was like watching cucco’s descend on a bokoblin, and Warriors watched with laughter bubbling in his chest as he stripped off his gunk-stained tunic, courtesy of the mud-covered boys he’d wisely decided to pick up, and moved on to his chainmail. The sound of the three youngest heroes' shrieking and shouting sweet music to his ears as Time and the other older heroes made camp just off of the riverbank, teasing each other and generally messing around.
“Wars, why are you- are you joining us?” Wild cocked his dripping head with a curious look as he watched him.
The undershirt slipped off easily as he waded into the stream’s center. “Of course, you two got me muddy too after all, and it’s not like I trust y’all to actually clean up by-” At the slowly spreading grins on the faces of the three, the captain realizes his mistake. “I don’t trust you all to clean up properly, so I’m-”
“Warriors said ‘y’all’!” Wind chortled, eyes glinting madly as a grin stretched over his face. “Oh boy! Just wait ‘till I-”
“Slip of the tongue.” He clipped back, hands settling on his hips as he stared down the three teens. “You tell Twilight about this and I will personally wash your mouth out with soap.”
“You’re the one who said it!” Hyrule pointed out.
“And whoever tells the rancher is committing a verbal atrocity that will only lead to far more in the future.” He huffed. “No one tells, you hear me?”
Wild looked between the others, brows furrowed and lips pursed as he took in Wind’s triumphant grin and Warriors’ scowl. “What’s wrong with saying ‘y’all’?”
The captain staggered back dramatically, hand on his chest and a horrified expression on his face as he stared at his son. “No! Never say that word! That word is an abomination!”
“What word?” Hyrule cocked his head, eyes glinting knowingly, but the captain failed to recognize it in time.
“’Y’all’!” He spat with contempt. “We do not say ‘y’all’ in this house! ‘Y’all’ is a cursed word and the next person who says it is-” - ‘Is on Mask watching duty’ was his go to consequence, but that wouldn’t exactly work right now; Time was a bit old to actually need a supervisor- “is on clothes washing duty with Legend.” He settled on at last, choosing the chore that everyone except, surprisingly, the veteran minded.
“Say the man who just said it four times in a row.” Wind teased, darting out of his grasp with a wide grin.
“Wind! I was trying to see how many times I could make him say it!” Hyrule huffed, pouting at his brother adorably.
“I still don’t get it.” Wild grumbled. “It’s a word? There’s nothing wrong with it as far as I know, ‘y’a-” The captain’s hand was clamped around the kid’s mouth before he could finish his sentence.
“Let's just not.” Warriors huffed; he was beginning to mourn Twilight’s mentor position at the moment. Fortunately, Wild was willing enough to still in is hands and not push the topic, unlike the other two who just egged each other on with ever widening grins. “Right.” He rolled his eyes. “First one with a clean face gets the strawberry scented soap; go.”
Silence fell as nothing save splashing rang over the stream as faces ducked beneath the water, all three boys falling for his favorite trick of all time. Heck, even the old man would probably still cave to the offer of strawberry soap, even now that he was an adult, and Wars couldn’t blame him at all; strawberry scented bubbles were the best bubbles and Twilight and his goat-milk soap could go sniff a skunk if they wanted to contest that.
It took hardly any time at all for all three to emerge, fresh faces and glowing, three sets of eyes al sparkling up at him as a warm chuckle blossomed in his throat. Naturally, he gave the promised soap to all three, citing the ‘I can’t tell who finished first so you all win’ excuse that Grandfather had taught him ages ago.
Wind dutifully set about scrubbing himself clean, and in the meantime, he guided the less experienced duo. “Take so much,” He dolloped a generous potion into Hyrule’s cupped hands. “And rub your hands together, yes, just like that, work it up to a nice lather and just scrub it all over. Take care you get the smelliest bits first so you don’t run out of soap before you get there, yeah?” Both forest children nodded, dutifully following his instructions as he moved to help scrub the traveler’s sopping curls.
It was an easy pattern to fall into, scrubbing the two heads with especial care to remove any sticks and twigs he found along the way. Hyrule was the easier of the two, but Wild held still better while he worked, almost melting under his fingers as he messaged suds into his son’s long locks, a light smile playing over both their faces as he worked, content to sit in the cooling water of the stream as the sun began to set, hands buried in his kid’s long hair as he worked out mud and filth and who knows what else.
Rinsing the sweet-scented bubbles started out innocently enough, but Wars was given a front row seat to watching an accidental splash descend into a full-on war on the water as he scrubbed his own hair clean, and well, if he joined in once he was finished, well, someone had to show Wind that he wasn’t the only hero with some experience on the water.
Wars sighed as he watched Time stirring quietly on his bedroll.
Honestly, his middle kid (he’d finally settled on letting Wind retain his position on oldest, since there was no way Time could be the eldest brother with his gremlin behavior) was something of an idiot. Oh, he loved all three of his boys dearly, but Time was an ass and everyone who knew him well knew it (except maybe Twilight, but that guy was an ass too).
Time hadn’t been sleeping recently, and it was easy to see in the dark bags around his eyes and the almost drifting expression on his face at nights. It was for lack of trying either, the kid- man? - the hero would settle down on his bedroll every night same as the others, but even with sharp eyes shut tight and blanket pulled to his ears, the ‘Old Man’ couldn’t lie still for more than thirty minutes, constantly shifting and fidgeting on his bedroll even as the other heroes steadily dropped off to sleep.
It was just the two of them now, the captain on watch and their leader trying to pretend he was asleep with a scowl on his face.
He was scratching again.
“Alright, that’s enough of that.” war clapped his hands against his knees and pushed himself p, staling over to stand over the largest of the bedrolls and staring down at the lump within. “What’s up, Sprout? You normally snore like a hinox all night long, what’s eating you?”
A single blue eye stared up at him wearily. “If I knew, I would have killed it by now.”
Oof, bad night then. “Do you have any idea what it could be?” He was already settling down next to the group leader’s head, hands reaching to grasp Time’s own and bring them down from where he was, likely unconsciously, clawing at the sides of his face.
“No.” Came the frustrated huff.
“Missing Miss Malon?” He suggested, running his fingers through short blonde hair thoughtfully, mind miles away in a two-story house at castle town as he fell into the all too familiar trap of playing with one of his boys’ hair.
“I thought so at first, and while I do, it doesn’t usually stop me from sleeping.” Time grumbled, staring up at the night sky with pursed lips. “It’s not nightmares or visions either, if anything my dreams have been normal for once.”
“Anxiety perhaps? Are you worrying about the others? Twilight, maybe? Wild?” At the questioning glance he received he shrugged. “Kept me up enough nights, even if you two were there. A bad thing happens once and you're not likely to forget it.”
“Hmm.” Time hummed, leaning unconsciously into his hands and settling on his bed-roll, shoulders falling lax as his single good eyes fluttered softly. “Maybe.”
Whatever it was, it wasn’t bad enough that War’s fingers didn’t put it to rest, and time was asleep in mere minutes, soft snores rumbling over the camp as the captain continued his ministrations, eyes and ears sharp and alert for any disturbance near in within the camp, but body relaxed as he kept the steady rhythm of his fingers through short and silky hair.
When his watch was over though, and it was time to wake the veteran to take his, Wars found himself stuck. Time's fingers were curled tightly in his blue scarf, the man’s head resting easy against his thigh, and any motion small of subtle, would likely send majestic blue fluttering open again with an exhausted air.
Ah well, time to be creative.
Legend grumbled, as usual, at being woken by having his feet touched, and the captain echoed his discomfort as he wrings is sore and likely sprained hand. Time was still asleep though, so there was that at least. Now just to figure out how best to position himself so he could sleep.
Soldier’s experience won over logic, and Wars was asleep in seconds, leaving the camp under Legend’s watch and Time snoozing blissfully at his side.
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Note
For the birthday prompt: [Winteriron or Stuckony] Omega Tony soothing Alpha Bucky after a panic attack/nightmare shortly after they get him back to the Tower/Compound. Maybe a little bit of the team being overprotective on the omega genius and had been keeping him away from the "dangerous" and traumatized alpha assassin. But in the end, Tony just struts in like it's nothing and Bucky just f'ing melts to do whatever Tony says (in a sweet way, not a creepy one). Please?
Tumblr is doing weird things with the asks so if this doesn’t work, bear with me and I’ll post the story in the notes.
This story got a little bit (okay, maybe more than a little bit) away from me so I hope this is still what you were hoping for! I went the Stuckony route here and I’m also headcanoning that after a few years of dating Steve, Tony has mostly gotten over his emotional constipation.
As always, everything I write is on ao3 but tumblr doesn’t like links so I’m not including that
~
The first time Tony sees Bucky Barnes, it’s through a screen.
It’s the first real lead they’ve had in months, since the flurry of sightings immediately following SHIELD’s collapse. The team had sent Natasha and Clint to check it out. They’re both betas, and Nat’s ability to control the calming pheromones all betas let off gives them an edge over an alpha they suspect is on the verge of going feral.
He’s not on the verge, Tony realizes when he sees Barnes on the screen for the first time. He is feral.
Eyes clearly gone red, clear even through the low saturation of the screen, baring his fangs at Natasha and Clint as they cautiously approach, growling so fiercely that the other people in the market are giving him a wide berth as they peer at him fearfully from under their lashes—Bucky has been pushed past the point of breaking into ferality. It’s not surprising. Their entire world crashing down—literally, in this instance—would be a lot for any alpha to handle, but for one trying to deal with seventy years of brainwashing and amnesia? Yeah, Tony’s not surprised.
There’s something slightly terrifying about it. Alphas going feral is supposed to be a nightmare story, something you tell children about at night to scare them into being good. It’s not supposed to be something you see in a crowded marketplace. And when Tony thinks about how easy it would be for something to go wrong, if they’d sent someone other than Nat or Clint—like Steve who had wanted so badly to be the one to bring his friend in or even Tony with his omega pheromones evolved to tempt alphas into paying attention to him and only him—he shudders.
But—there’s something almost piteous about it too. It’s clear that Bucky is terrified beneath his snarling veneer, clear that he doesn’t fully understand what’s happening, and something in Tony’s heart shifts the same as it had the first time he saw Steve.
Something thrums deep inside him to the tune of mine.
“I can help,” he says.
Beneath him, Steve shifts uneasily, saying, “Tony—”
“I want to,” he interrupts. He turns, Steve’s arm sliding from his stomach to his hip, and rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, watching Nat raise her hands placatingly out of the corner of his eye. “I’ve had six months to get used to—everything. It wasn’t his fault, I know that, and—and you still love him, Steve, I know you do.”
“I love you,” Steve says, which isn’t really much of an argument.
“I know.” He smiles when Steve rolls his eyes at the well-worn response. “But you love him too. And… he feels like you did when we first met.”
He can feel Steve tense, and he tucks his head deeper into the crook of Steve’s neck, purring quietly to force him to calm. He knows his alpha is only worried about his safety. Bucky isn’t the same person he once was and even if Steve still has feelings for him, it’s only instinct to be worried about the omega he’s also in love with. But he doesn’t need to be worried. Tony is more than capable of taking care of himself and his own instincts are screaming that Bucky won’t hurt him, that Bucky is his. Only once Steve is fully relaxed again does he continue, “Please, Steve. I want to help. I want to know him better and I want to know if what I’m feeling about him is real. Let me?”
Steve sighs but Tony feels his lips curve upwards where they’re pressed against his hair. “I don’t let you do anything.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
~
Bucky is still feral by the time he, Nat, and Clint return to the tower, but it’s tinged now with panic. Tony can smell the sour scent it all the way from where he and the rest of the team are waiting in the kitchen and Bucky’s still outside. He’s not sure if that says something about his strength as an alpha or the depths of his panic, but either way, it’s not good. He glances again at the screen where he can see Natasha trying to calm Bucky down enough to get him to enter the building—the windows blacked out so that Bucky doesn’t panic further at the sight of the team just inside the landing pad—but it’s no dice.
“I’m going out there,” he announces.
It’s meant to just let everyone know that he’s going, but everyone else seems to take it as an invitation to stop him. The noise in the kitchen swings up into an uproar. Even Steve, who knows that he has every intention of helping, has tucked him up against his side, keeping him from taking a single step out of the kitchen.
“He’s dangerous,” Bruce argues once the initial noise has died down a little. It’s telling that Steve doesn’t immediately argue with him the way he normally does when someone says something bad about Bucky.
“We’re all dangerous,” Tony shoots back, ineffectually trying to wriggle his way out of Steve’s arms. “I’m dangerous and biology practically dictates that my orientation is about as dangerous as a bunny rabbit.”
Steve, who has been on the receiving end of Tony’s intense heats, snorts.
“Look,” he continues, “Nat’s not having any luck getting him to calm down enough to come inside and right now I’m really worried he’s going to either steal the Quinjet and take off or jump off the tower and take off. Either option comes with a lot of paperwork that I have to sign so I’d prefer it if he just came inside so why can’t I try? We can’t send another alpha out there, he’ll take that as a sign of aggression, and we can’t send Sam. The last time Bucky met him, he kicked him off a helicarrier. So that means we’re down to me. Sucks that it’s me but I’m our best option.”
“If he hurts you—” Steve begins.
“He won’t,” Tony says softly and turns so he can nose at Steve’s scent glands. “You won’t let him. I know you’ll be right there, ready if something goes wrong.”
Steve clearly still doesn’t want to let him go out there but his arms loosen enough for Tony to slip away. He smiles at the others, hiding his own nerves beneath a façade of self-confidence that he absolutely doesn’t feel. It’s not like any of them are wrong: feral alphas are dangerous, and this one is more dangerous than most. But he’s not wrong either: Bucky is in more danger the longer he stays out there. Hydra is searching for him and it was sheer luck that the Avengers found him first. But he doesn’t know how long that luck will hold, so the quicker they can bring him in out of the cold, the happier he’ll be.
He straightens his shirt and steps outside, ignoring the way the rest of the team trails him to the door. Bucky’s red eyes snap instantly to him. It’s unsettling, a little terrifying, and Tony has to stop himself from reaching for his sunglasses or from jamming his hands in his pockets. Instead, he holds himself loose and open, hands at his side and palms open so Bucky doesn’t think he’s hiding a weapon in his fists.
“Tony, what do you think you’re doing?” Clint murmurs, alerted to his presence by the sound of the door closing. Natasha is still concentrating on Bucky, trying to soothe him. Even from where he’s standing, he can feel her pheromones washing calm over him and he revises his plan to include her. He’s never felt this kind of strength from her before but he’d be an idiot not to use it.
“It’s okay,” he says, keeping his eyes fixed on Bucky, who’s growling lowly now. “Go back inside, Natasha and I have got this.”
“Can’t do that,” Clint says. “Steve would have my head if—”
“Steve’s my backup. He’s right inside. Go inside; I can’t calm Bucky down if he’s worrying about you.”
“But—”
“Please.”
He thinks it’s the please that does it. By now, the team knows that the whole Tony Stark doesn’t use social niceties thing is bullshit but he still spends so much time in the workshop, and so much time teasing the others when he’s not working, that it’s still an indicator that he’s completely serious about something.
Clint doesn’t waste time asking any other questions. He, more than anyone else on the team except for Steve, knows better than to underestimate people and question them when they’re confident. And Tony is about as confident as he can be. There are ways that this can go wrong, absolutely, but they’re running out of options and what he’s about to try is something that’s been scientifically proven to be effective.
He doesn’t watch Clint go, though Bucky does, only to snap his gaze right back to Tony as soon as Tony takes a step forward. He places a hand on Natasha’s shoulder as he passes her, murmurs into her ear too low for even supersoldiers to hear, “Keep up the good work. You’re helping,” and comes to a stop within armlength of Bucky, knowing that Bucky could easily reach out and hurt him if he wanted to.
It seems to throw Bucky off, who blinks at him. Tony smiles at him and reaches up to his neck, loosening the scent blocker just enough to dilute the bonded scent pouring off of him and allow his own to filter in.
Bucky blinks again. “Omega,” he says eventually, voice rusty with disuse.
Tony smiles again. “That’s right.”
“And… Stevie?” Bucky guesses. In that moment, he sounds so young that it makes Tony’s heart break. Bucky had his future stolen away from him just the same as Steve did. He can’t fully regret that because it brought them both to him, but he knows how much pain and healing Steve had had to go through after waking up in this century and he knows what Bucky will still have to do, and he hurts for them.
“Steve’s my alpha,” he says. “Do you remember Steve?”
Bucky hesitates and then slowly nods. The red is slowly starting to recede from his eyes—though Tony isn’t sure that has anything to do with what he’s doing or if it’s just because he’s managing to baffle the alpha—and then Natasha shifts. It’s nothing more than a twitch of her leg but Bucky instantly notices it.
Before Tony realizes it, Bucky has snatched him to him, tucked him behind the mass that makes up Bucky’s body, and is snarling at Natasha, eyes scarlet red again. Just barely, he sees the door start to open and if it does, if the team comes out of it ready to fight, they’ll lose Bucky.
“No!” he shouts, startling Bucky. It’s enough though. The door pauses. Tony can see Steve through the crack, looking terrified, but he isn’t hurt. He’s okay. Bucky hasn’t done anything other than seemingly try to protect him.
He darts in front of Bucky again, wraps his arms around his shoulders, and tugs him down to his neck, tucking his face into the loosened scent blocker so he can inhale both Steve and Tony.
“Settle,” he commands. It’s usually a command an alpha uses for their omega but there’s precedence of omegas using it too. He draws on every ounce of strength he typically reserves for the boardroom and pushes it into his voice, ordering him again when Bucky lets out an answering growl.
It takes a moment but Bucky suddenly melts, going limp and boneless against him. Tony’s only half-expecting it; the alpha’s weight takes him by surprise and they sink to the ground, Bucky taking in huge gasping breaths as he breathes in their combined scents.
“Oh my darling,” Tony whispers, hands coming up to stroke through Bucky’s hair. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
~
Without quite meaning to, Bucky ends up moving into the guest room on his and Steve’s floor. Tony means to put Bucky on his own floor but then Bucky spends the afternoon following him docilely around the common areas, as sweet now as he was feral a few hours earlier. The others still seem a little wary but as time passes and it becomes obvious that Tony is in fact doing some good, they start to relax. By the time they’d be heading up to bed, Bucky is stretched out on the couch, head on Tony’s lap and feet tucked under Steve’s legs, as the team watches a movie.
“I think he’s imprinted on you,” Clint observes dryly as he heads for the elevator. “Like a duck.”
Tony doesn’t look up from where he’s carding his fingers through Bucky’s hair but he feels the alpha tense. “That’s okay, darling,” he comments idly. “I’m pretty sure Steve and I imprinted on each other once we started living together too.”
Natasha groans. “Don’t remind me. It was like watching a Disney movie without the singing animals.”
“Disney movie?” Bucky asks, voice muffled by Tony’s thigh.
“I’ll show you,” Tony assures him.
The rest of the team starts slowly filtering out until it’s just the three of them. Tony and Steve exchange a look over Bucky’s head, not needing to communicate with words after the years they’ve spent together. They’re both concerned about where Bucky will sleep tonight. With a quick glance toward Bucky and a tilt of his eyebrows, Steve tells him that he would be more than happy with Bucky staying with them, but he’ll leave the decision up to Tony. No one likes the scent of a distressed omega after all, and the easiest way to end up with a distressed omega is by inviting someone into their space that they don’t want there.
Fortunately, Tony would be more than happy with Bucky there. He hadn’t been joking when he’d said that one look at Bucky and it had felt like they were meant for each other, just as it had felt with Steve—and, he suspected, just as it had felt with Steve and Bucky, even if they’d never made a move.
But he wants the choice to be Bucky’s, so he gently lifts his hands away from Bucky’s hair and asks, “Bucky? Do you want to have your own floor? We’ve got a few extras for when we expand the roster. Or you could stay on our floor, if you’d prefer?”
Bucky doesn’t even hesitate to say, “With you.”
He knows Bucky doesn’t mean it the way he wants, doesn’t mean that he’ll join them in their bed, but maybe… Maybe someday, once Bucky is better (he isn’t so naïve as to think this is the end of it; he only has to look at his own history with backsliding after Afghanistan and Stane and the palladium reactor to know that) and if he and Steve can figure out the right words to invite someone into a triad bond…
Well. Maybe someday.
~
He wakes up in the middle of the night to Steve gently shaking his shoulder. “Waz wrong?” he mumbles, blearily rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Did I have a nightmare?”
“No, sweetheart,” Steve whispers, leaning over to kiss his bare shoulder. “Bucky wanted to know if he could join us. Said he was worried about Hydra.” He doesn’t say if Bucky was worried about Hydra taking him away or someone else, Tony or Steve, he notes, but the answer is the same either way.
“’Course he can, long as he’s not a blanket hog.”
He fully expects Bucky to climb in on Steve’s other side. It only makes sense: the two grew up together so of course, Steve would be the middle in this instance. Instead, Steve tugs Tony closer to him so that he’s spooning up behind him, and Bucky crawls under the blankets so that he’s facing Tony, looking more relaxed as soon as his head hits the pillow.
Huh. Maybe there’s something to what Clint was saying about Bucky imprinting on him. He would be more worried, but alphas don’t imprint on someone unless they feel safe with them, unless there’s the beginning stirrings of a mating bond in the back of their mind, even though a full bond takes time, communication, and love to develop. Considering that Tony’s pretty sure he’s imprinted on Bucky the same way, he really isn’t that concerned about Bucky’s feelings.
Still though, he makes a note to sit down and talk with Bucky eventually about how they can’t just rush into this. They’ve all been through too much to immediately strike up a relationship. Bucky isn’t in the right mental state at the moment. And as for Tony, he wants to make sure they’re all on the same page and that Bucky won’t regret this two years down the line. Hell, he’s still uncertain that Steve won’t regret this at some point, so he definitely wants to know that Bucky’s sure of his feelings.
But that’s a problem for tomorrow-Tony, he decides. Tonight, he’s going to snuggle into his alpha’s warmth and enjoy having Bucky close by instead of somewhere out in the world where Tony can’t keep him safe.
~
The next day is weirder. Not in a bad way! Just—here: when Tony finally drags himself away from the warm spots in the bed that his mates (not his mates; his mate and his mate’s best friend… who might one day be his mate), makes his way into the kitchen, and sleepily grumbles, “Coffee,” there are suddenly two steaming mugs in front of him, one from Steve and one from—someone else. He raises his eyes slowly to where Bucky is watching him with hopeful eyes. That answers that question then.
“Uh, thanks, Snowflake,” he says and takes a cautious sip out of the one Bucky put down. It’s not that he thinks it’s poisoned. It’s just that Bucky has been here for less than twenty-four hours, there’s no way that he know how exacting Tony can be about his coffee, how particular—how—how…
Huh. This is pretty damn perfect actually.
He takes another, larger sip and then looks at where Steve is busy making breakfast for the three of them. Steve watches him with an amused look in his eyes. Tony knows Steve isn’t concerned about someone else preparing his coffee—Bruce has done it plenty of times and whenever Rhodey’s in town, he insists that he’s the only one who can make Tony’s coffee—he’s just enjoying watching the two of them together.
He thinks about the nights he used to wake from a dead sleep to the sound of Steve weeping over Bucky, about the concerns he used to share with Tony that Bucky wouldn’t want to stay with them or would want to leave. He wonders now how much of that was fear that Tony wouldn’t want Bucky to stay because he wouldn’t be able to stomach housing the person Hydra used to kill his parents. Silly alpha, he thinks fondly. As though Tony wouldn’t love anyone Steve loves.
At least that’s a fear he can put to rest.
Gulping down half his coffee in one go, he leans back in his chair and casually says, “Steve, you’re fired. Pack your things and go. I’m keeping this one. His coffee is lightyears ahead of yours.”
Steve bursts out laughing and crosses the kitchen to pull him up and kiss him soundly. Tony purrs into the kiss, answered with a low rumble from Steve and then, so low he almost misses it—another rumble from Bucky. He smiles triumphantly and pulls away with another kiss, hands resting on Steve’s broad chest.
“Better finish up that breakfast, soldier,” he says teasingly. “Got things to do today in the workshop and I need my alpha down there to stand around and look pretty. You too, Bucky Babe,” he calls over his shoulder. “Universe gave me two supersoldiers, be a shame not to take advantage of that.”
He doesn’t know what Bucky looks like but the kitchen suddenly scents like contended alpha, and he knows it’s not Steve’s scent because he knows Steve’s scent as well as he knows his own. He smiles again, nuzzles deeper into Steve’s chest and hums happily.
It’s not perfect yet, he thinks, but soon—soon it will be.
~
Tony was right that first day—it takes time, months really. Time for Bucky to backslide and Steve to backslide and Tony to back-shimmy because he doesn’t do anything as gauche as slide. It takes months of therapy, days of consultation with the world’s top experts on how to remove the brainwashing and programming from Bucky’s brain, hours of working together in the workshop on Bucky’s arm as Tony comes up with improvement after improvement.
It’s countless bad nights where Bucky wakes up in a nightmare and reaches to strangle Steve—never Tony, never his omega, but always his best friend—and countless bad days afterward trying to convince him to come back to their bed. It’s figuring out how to work around the myriad of triggers all three of them have and sometimes it doesn’t work. Sometimes Bucky doesn’t realize that Tony can’t handle baths anymore. Sometimes Steve doesn’t notice that Bucky’s afraid of heights. Sometimes Tony misses that it’s the anniversary of Bucky falling from the train.
It’s bad sometimes.
But it’s good sometimes too.
It’s figuring out how they curl around each other in bed and waking up warm and rested. It’s feeding each other by hand in the morning when they’re too tired to bother with silverware. It’s cups of coffee and donuts with sprinkles and warm hugs. It’s Bucky resting his head on Tony’s lap and tucking his feet under Steve’s legs during movie nights.
It’s Tony and Steve dancing together around the kitchen island as Bucky cooks, watching them fondly. It’s Bucky crooning old songs from the 40s when Steve’s on a mission and Tony can’t sleep without his alpha. It’s Steve and Bucky spending hours walking the streets of Brooklyn, reminiscing about growing up together.
It’s love, blooming slowly but surely for everyone to see.
And when one night as Tony is changing out of the charcoal suit he’d worn for the board meeting that day and into his pajamas and Bucky stops him with a hoarsely whispered, “Doll,” he smiles and guides Bucky’s hand to his waist.
“It’s okay, darling” he murmurs. “You can.”
Bucky’s kiss, when it comes, feels like coming home.
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fruitcoops · 3 years
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could we see coops first big fight when they’re married? (essentially pure angst)
Yes, we can! Don’t worry, I got your follow-up ask about a happy ending as well--there are no sad endings on this blog, just some bittersweet ones, and this is very soft and fluffy. Hope you enjoy!
Combined with prompts for...
1. Another of Coops’ serious talks
2. Remus overworking himself to keep up
3. From @colored-rain: Sirius sleeping at Dumo’s for a night
4. Slow dancing in the kitchen
TW for couples fighting, suppression, and marriage issues
“Do you think we got married too fast?” a quiet voice asked in the darkness.
Remus paused for several heartbeats before opening his eyes and turning over; Sirius was staring at the ceiling, wide awake. “What?”
“Do you think we got married too fast?” Sirius repeated without looking at him.
“Do you?” Remus countered. Something panicky was starting to buzz in the back of his brain and he tried to keep his breaths steady. Sirius wasn’t breaking up with him. They had only been married for a few months. Things were really, really good—as far as he knew, they were both happier than they had ever been.
Sirius sighed through his nose. “I don’t know.”
“What?” Remus sat up against the headboard, wide awake. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“I—” Sirius shifted to sit up as well and crossed his legs. “I don’t know! People usually date for a lot longer than a year and a half before getting married, right?”
“We’ve known each other for seven years, Sirius.”
“Yes, and I love you, and you’re wonderful, but everything happened so fast.”
Remus wasn’t sure if his heart was trying to crawl out of his chest or dissolve into a puddle of pain. “Are you—Sirius, are you breaking up with me?”
“No!” Sirius said immediately. “I just said I love you, what the hell?”
“People can love each other and still break up!”
Sirius grabbed his hands, holding tight even when Remus tried to pull back and let his panic overtake him. Grey eyes locked on his, as solemn as he had ever seen them. “I’m not breaking up with you, Remus.” The clock on the nightstand beeped midnight and Sirius pressed his lips together. “We have early practice.”
“We need to talk.”
“We need to sleep.”
“Promise we’ll talk tomorrow, then.” We need to talk right now, actually.
Sirius squeezed his hands and kissed his cheek. His cheek. “I promise.”
Remus didn’t sleep much that night. His cheek burned with the memory of Sirius’ lips.
---------------------------
Their morning routine was stilted and quiet. Practice was awkward, and though neither of them let the previous night’s events influence their performance, he knew the tension was palpable. “Y’all good?” Leo asked under his breath as Remus filled his waterbottle up.
“We’re fine,” he answered, exhausted.
“Loops—”
“Stay in your lane, Knut.” He regretted the words as soon as they escaped his mouth—the kicked-puppy look on Leo’s face was more than enough to make guilt spike up—but he kept on moving down the hall and tried to wash the bitter taste from his mouth.
The ride home was worlds worse than he could have expected. Sirius turned the radio off the moment it started to play and kept his eyes firmly on the windshield the entire time, tapping his thumb against the wheel in the tic that always appeared when he was nervous. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t help us fix whatever’s going on.” Remus wasn’t angry, per say, but he was really fucking frustrated with Sirius’ sudden inability to communicate. “Talk to me. What happened?”
Sirius chewed the edge of his lip. “I was just thinking.”
There was a long stretch of silence between them. “Wow, thank you for that incredibly helpful information,” Remus said sarcastically when it became clear he wasn’t going to continue.
“You don’t have to be mean about it,” Sirius muttered.
“I’m not trying to be mean—”
“Well, you kind of were—”
“Then maybe you should talk about your problems for once!” Remus snapped before he could shove it back down. Sirius’ jaw clenched. “If we’re going to work through this, then you have to tell me what the hell happened to make you so worried and upset. Do you regret getting married to me?”
The response was immediate. “No.”
“Thank you.” He leaned his head back against the seat rest and closed his eyes. “Thank you, that was what I needed to hear.”
“Do you think we moved too fast?”
Remus scrubbed a hand over his face. “I used to. I don’t, anymore. There’s no rulebook for any of this. How long have you been thinking about that?”
Sirius started tapping the wheel again. “A couple weeks.”
He may as well have opened the passenger door and booted Remus from the car. A breath punched out of his lungs. “A couple weeks?” he whispered. The world was spinning, the floor was open, hell itself was coming to swallow him up. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I figured it was normal marriage stuff. That it would pass.”
“Oh my god.”
“I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”
“And I do?” Remus said incredulously. “News flash: this is the first time I’ve ever been married, too!”
“Please don’t be angry.”
“Being married means you share things, Sirius, not keep them bottled up for two weeks! Especially when they concern the other person!”
Something stormy came over his face. “Oh, really? So when were you planning on talking to me about the fact that you haven’t slept in six days?”
“I literally sleep next to you!”
“You toss and turn all night, and then you get up and run drills for an hour before coming back to bed. Every time I ask how you slept, you lie to my face, Remus. That’s not okay.”
Remus was speechless. He had done everything he could think of to be quiet and careful so Sirius wouldn’t know. “I…”
Sirius glanced over at him, eyebrows raised. “Yeah, I noticed.”
Be an adult. Be an adult. You’re married. Be an adult. “I’m still worried about catching up to the team.”
“I figured. We’ve talked about this before, Re, it’s not safe for you to do that to yourself—”
“You don’t get it!” Sirius pulled into their driveway and turned the car off. “You have no idea how it feels to constantly be catching up to people! I’m fine, it’s not like I’m doing any damage!”
“I’m sorry, did you forget who you’re talking to?”
Remus clenched his teeth and got out of the car, grabbing his duffel from the backseat before slamming the door. He felt a little guilty—the rising memories of hushed confessions of hours of exercise to his father’s whistle meant Sirius understood better than anyone. Then the front door closed behind them both and the indignance on Sirius’ face sent his temper flaring up again. “You never bother to talk to me about anything that’s going on with you, so why should I even try?”
“What happened to ‘marriage is a partnership’?” Sirius followed him into the kitchen. “Have we moved on to the hypocrite stage yet or are we still clearing the air where nothing ever gets solved?”
Remus reeled back like he’d been slapped. “Fucking excuse me?”
“Every time we fight, you start all sarcastic and defensive, and then you get preachy like you’re reading something out of a fucking self-help book!” Sirius ran a hand through his hair. “Christ, Remus, it feels like I’m talking to a therapist instead of my partner!”
“Husband!” The ring on his finger had always been a comfort instead of a lead weight. “You can’t even say it?”
“I don’t regret marrying you!
“Then why are you so upset about us being married young?!”
“Because it’ll fall apart!” Sirius shouted back. “We’re going to be insufferably happy for a while, and then somewhere along the line we’re going to hate each other, and then it’ll be cold looks when we pass and different beds and all our friends will have to pick sides because we can’t stand to be in the same room together!”
“If you’re so sure about that, then why are you trying to fucking hard to keep us together?” Remus’ heart pounded like he’d run a marathon. Hearing his own fears thrown in his face was the most terrifying thing he had ever experienced.
“Because I love you.” Sirius’ voice broke. They were on opposite sides of the kitchen island, but Remus could see the pain on his face. “I love you, and I don’t want some—some impulsive decision to ruin that forever.”
“I love you, too.” Tears clogged the back of Remus’ throat. So stop pushing me away.
“Then I’ll be at Dumo’s.”
Remus nodded silently as Sirius walked past him toward the stairs; the moment he was out of sight, he headed into the downstairs bathroom and sat down with his back to the closed door, burying his face in his forearms. There was a rustle outside, and the front door closed with a click.
It wasn’t until his face itched with drying tears that he remembered Hattie. Guilt and panic stabbed through him and he scrambled back out, sprinting to her bed and then to the backyard. “Hattie?” he called, frantic with worry. “Hattie, c’mere!”
He closed his eyes and thought back to the events of the day. They had left her in the house for practice, and he vaguely remembered hearing her in the other room while they were fighting, and when Sirius left—
“Oh, you bastard,” he said aloud. The rustling of Sirius grabbing his duffel and whatever else he packed had been accompanied by the pattering of Hattie’s paws. “You took our fucking dog.”
Part of him was grateful that at least somebody had remembered their baby. The other part was absolutely furious. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a few deep breaths as the tone played. “Hello?”
“Can you pick me up?”
“Re, are you okay?”
“Not really. Can you pick me up?”
Concern dripped from Lily’s voice. “Where are you?”
“At home.”
“…where’s Sirius?”
“At Dumo’s.”
“I’m on my way.”
-----------------------------------
Harry Potter had been alive for less than two years, and he had been cried on by about half the Lions. Finn had started referring to him as ‘therapy baby’, and Remus was inclined to agree—it was hard to feel anything extreme when he was holding the pudgy little angel to his chest.
“So you fought?” Lily asked gently from the armchair across from him. Remus nodded. The whole story had spilled out in a gross mess of sobbing and baby snuggles until he laid down on his back, holding Harry to his chest as he dozed.
“I feel like an idiot,” he said miserably.
“Don’t.”
“It was awful.”
“I bet.”
Remus sniffled and kissed the top of Harry’s head. “Thank you for getting me. I didn’t want to be there alone.”
“I’m glad you called.” She took a sip of tea and gave him a look that he never liked. “Re, can I be honest with you?”
“Always.”
“I was kind of waiting for this to happen.” At his stricken expression, she folded her hands around the sides of her mug. “I don’t think you got married too early, because neither of you do big things like that on impulse and you love each other so much. However, I do think that you have a habit of trying to protect each other from the shit you carry with you. James did the same thing to me, and it sucked.”
“It does suck,” Remus agreed. “I hate the thought that he can’t trust me.”
Lily held her finger up and shook her head. “Nope. It’s not an issue of trust, is it? Why didn’t you tell Sirius that you were having trouble sleeping?”
“Because I didn’t want to worry h—oh.” Harry wiggled around for a moment and Remus adjusted himself so he was leaning on the armrest. “I think I get it now.”
“You guys need to talk about that at some point or it’s going to keep coming up.”
“Is that what you and James did?”
“No, we let it fester for, like, a year and then broke up for two weeks.”
Remus made a sympathetic face. “I forgot about that part. I should call him, huh?”
Lily shrugged. “It’s up to you.”
“I want to apologize,” he said carefully. The sore spot in his heart and chest still twinged. “But I’m still really upset. And hurt. And a little angry? Mostly worried. There’s so much happening, I just want to hold your baby.”
“Go for it, he’s having a blast. Lover?”
There was a shuffling sound from the other room before James appeared in the doorway. “Yes?”
Remus snorted. “Simp.”
“Yes, and? What’s up, darling?”
“Can I have some more tea?” She batted her eyelashes at him with a dimpled smile and he sighed, then took her mug with him into the kitchen.
“You only love me for my kettle!” he called over his shoulder with a grin.
“Maybe!”
Remus turned his head to look at Lily while he ran a hand over Harry’s back. “Lils?”
“Hmm?”
“Am I preachy when I’m upset?”
She frowned. “What?”
“Preachy. Like—like I’m reading out of a self-help book.”
With a heavy sigh, she stood up and walked to the couch, leaning over the armrest to kiss his forehead. “No, Re, you’re not preachy. You like being right, but you’re not preachy.”
“Sirius thinks we’ll end up like his parents.”
“I’m not surprised about that, either.” She brushed his messy hair off his forehead and braided a small strand along the front, then gave it a little tug. “Guest bedroom’s yours for as long as you need it, okay?”
“That might be a while.”
She shook her head and patted his shoulder. “It won’t.”
“Could be.”
“Remus.”
“Sorry. Sleep well, Lils.” He sat up slightly and covered Harry’s ears. “And you, eavesdropper!”
“Love you!” James laughed from the other room. Lily picked the sleepy baby up and ushered Remus into the guest room with a final ‘goodnight’.
-----------------------------------
“Am I an idiot?” Sirius asked.
The bed creaked as Dumo readjusted his legs. “No, mon fils, you’re not an idiot. You are a young man going through his first marriage spat.”
“I hate it. I hate it. I said horrible things to him.”
“It sounds like you’re both to blame.”
“No, I brought it up first.” Dumo huffed, and he let out a slow exhale into the pillow. “Okay, maybe—maybe we were both in the wrong.”
“Fights are rarely one-sided. You have a visitor.”
Something cold prodded Sirius’ ear and he groaned, then curled on his side to let Hattie onto the covers next to him. “Bonjour, sweet girl. Thank you for the cuddles.”
She licked his nose and he smiled, petting the velvety top of her head. “Are you staying here tonight?”
“I was thinking about it. Re’s got the house to himself for a bit, then, and he knows I’m here.”
“I’m glad you’re taking the time to calm down a bit,” Dumo said as he stood with a final ruffle of Sirius’ hair. “That’s a wise decision. Bonne nuit.”
Sirius mumbled a response and made more room for Hattie, then settled in for a restless night. He never wanted to sleep alone again.
----------------------------------
By some miracle, practice was more bearable the second day. Remus still ached somewhere deep inside, but it wasn’t like he had anything else left to suppress. Seeing Sirius was a relief; it surprised him at first, considering the explosive nature of the previous evening, before sliding into something that soothed him. If he could still find peace in Sirius after all that, they would be okay.
He knocked lightly on the side of Sirius’ stall after he returned from the shower. “Knock, knock. Ca—”
“Who’s there?”
Remus’ heart stuttered as Sirius looked up at him from the bench with an apologetic tilt to his mouth. Something clicked into place. “Can I get a ride?”
“ ‘course you can.” Sirius stood up just as Remus stepped forward, and they met in the middle for a tight hug. He tucked his face into the dip of Sirius’ collarbone and breathed in his shower-fresh smell, as well as the trace of laundry detergent from his shirt.
“Love you,” he murmured.
“Let’s go, mon loup.” Sirius pressed a kiss to his hair and they headed out toward the parking lot together; Remus caught Leo’s eye and saw him smile.
“How’s Dumo doing?” Remus asked as they turned out of the parking lot. Start slow, start easy. “Did you drop Hattie off at home before you came to practice?”
“Yeah, I did. He’s good, and Celeste sent me back with some brownies.”
Remus tentatively reached over and rested his hand on the side of Sirius’ thigh—his chest visibly caught before he relaxed into it and reached down to put his own overtop. “Harry’s doing well. Lily says he’s almost started running.”
“Did you go see them?”
“Stayed at their place last night.” He shrugged one shoulder. “It felt weird being there by myself.”
“Re—”
“I’m so sorry.” The words spilled out in a rush, despite his best efforts to keep it in until they reached home. “I’m sorry for everything I said to you, and especially for how I said it. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about how I was feeling, too. It should never have gotten to that point.”
“Apology accepted.” Sirius sounded a little choked up. “I don’t think we got married too soon, if that means anything.”
“Of course it means something,” Remus half-laughed as he wiped the dampness from the corners of his eyes. “It means everything.”
“I thought it might be too late.”
“Can you pull over for a second?” Sirius obliged, and as soon as he turned the car off, Remus turned to face him. He linked their hands, making sure Sirius was looking into his eyes. “It is never too late to talk to me, okay? I’m sorry if I ever made you think that it was.”
Sirius unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over for a brief kiss that sent bubbling warmth throughout Remus’ entire body. “I’m so, so sorry for yelling at you. And for keeping everything in, even though we both promised to stop doing that. All that shit I said, it—it wasn’t true, Re, and I wasn’t thinking.”
Remus rested their foreheads together and wound his fingers in the short curls fanning Sirius’ face. “Honey, we’re not your parents.”
Sirius swallowed hard. “I know.”
“So you don’t have to be afraid that we’re going to hate each other out of the blue, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“If—” His mouth went a little dry and he faltered. “If you want to take a break, or take things slower, I totally respect—”
“Nope, no, no, no,” Sirius interrupted, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him in for another fervent kiss. “I love you. I’m happy with you. I let my head get away from me, and I’m sorry.”
“All’s forgiven, love.” They sat in silence for a minute longer as Sirius traced his jawline. “Let’s go home.”
-------------------------------------
Sirius woke up in bed alone, which would have scared him if he didn’t know exactly where his husband was. He smiled to himself and got out of bed, grabbing a hoodie off their dresser before heading downstairs.
The kitchen light was on and music played quietly from Remus’ phone over the sound of running water. “You’re up late,” he said casually from the doorway.
Remus almost dropped a pot. “Jesus Christ!”
“Just me.” Sirius wrapped his arms around his waist as he set the pot on the drying rack. “Stressed?”
“A little. I forgot to do these earlier and didn’t want to leave them overnight again.” Sirius hummed his agreement and rocked back and forth, then took Remus’ hand and spun him in a slow circle. “Oh, are we slow dancing to the Billboard Top 100 now?”
“Very romantic, I know,” Sirius laughed.
Remus shook his head with a wide grin as they swayed, much too slow for the actual song but absolutely perfect. He was beautiful in the low light of their kitchen, puffy eyes from and all. “You are ridiculous.”
I’m the luckiest person alive. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Sirius leaned down for a series of quick kisses, pulling him in until their chests pressed together. Remus let go of his hand and draped both arms over his shoulders, tangling his hands in his hair. “I know we can’t exactly control it,” Sirius said against his lips. “But let’s never fight like that again.”
“Deal.”
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years
Text
Never Have I... (Part 2)
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Summary: After her threesome with the boys, the reader has a rough day and some stress reliving fun with Jensen in the kitchen...
Pairing: Jensen x reader
Masterlist
Square: Fuck Buddies
Word Count: 713
Warnings: mature (language, m/f smut, possessive kink)
A/N: Written for @spnkinkbingo​
_________
“Hey,” said Jensen when you walked downstairs after your shower. 
“Sup,” you said, going to the fridge, adjusting your towel on the way. You took out a beer and chugged half of it down, Jensen sipping on his glass of whiskey in front of the TV.
“Rough day?” he asked.
“What gave it away?” you asked.
“You smell like sandalwood,” he said, making you pause between gulps. “That’s your fancy body wash which you only use when you have a bad day and do a little self-care treatment. Plus you normally don’t shotgun beer.”
“One of our clients dropped us and my boss is blaming me. Dickhead. I should so quit,” you said.
“You know Jared and I could get you in literally any job anywhere in the business,” he said. “Just ask.”
“I know. I’ll think about it,” you said as he walked over. He stopped in front of you, using a finger to untuck your towel, the whole thing dropping to the floor. You finished off your beer and crushed it with your hand, letting out a burp.
“You are so fucking hot,” he said.
“We still doing the fuck buddies thing after the threesome?” you asked.
“You were my fuck buddy first,” he said, cocking his head, eyeing you up and down.
“Jealous Jared got my ass?” you chuckled, leaving the can on the counter. You bent down to pick up your towel, Jensen spanking you. You straightened up and looked over your shoulder. “Or just jealous Jared fucked me at all.”
“I think I’m gonna fuck you right here and now for that comment,” he said. You smirked and leaned against the counter, jutting your ass out, wiggling it some.
“Come and get it then, big boy,” you said. He pushed down his sweatpants and stood behind you, shoving his half-hard cock into your pussy. You moaned and gripped the counter top, Jensen leaning over your back, lips touching your ear.
“You’re mine,” he said.
“Gonna have to prove that one to me, Jensen,” you said. He grabbed both your hips and pulled you back on his cock, working a harsh rhythm. You slapped the countertop and moaned, Jensen pumping his hips forward, one hand sliding over your mouth.
“I don’t want to hear another word out of this mouth unless it’s you moaning my name,” he said. “Understand?”
You nodded and he moved his hand to the back of your neck, pinning you down.
“Fuck, Jensen,” you said. He released your already aching hip and fingered your clit roughly, sharp pleasure hitting you. “Jensen…”
“Take it,” he said, your hips slamming back to meet his. “You want to come?”
“Yes,” you moaned, clenching around his cock that was currently splitting you in two.
“Mine. Say it,” he growled, delivering a thrust that knocked the wind out of you.
“Yours, Jensen. Fuck. Please Jensen,” you said. He rubbed your clit harder, balls slapping against you, jerking you and pinning you until your whole body went numb with pleasure, a sticky wetness filling you up. It started to drip down your legs and you stood up, shakily falling down to your knees, Jensen catching you along the way.
“I think you fucking squirted,” he said. “Fuck, you’re so amazing.”
“Apparently also yours. I like possessive Jensen,” you said, climbing into his lap. He slid his hand up to the back of your neck, pushing you flush against him. “Jensen. Did my fuck buddy get jealous of Jared cause he likes me?”
“Yes,” he said softly, his grip loosening to play with the back of your hair.
“Want to be my permanent fuck buddy?” you asked. You leaned forward and kissed him quickly, booping your nose against his. “Jensen. I mean-”
“I know what you mean and yes,” he said with a smile, pulling you into a kiss again. “I wouldn’t mind the occasional threesome with Jared. That was fun. But at the end of the day-”
“I’m yours,” you said. “And you’re mine. Got it?”
“Yes I do, sweetheart. Yes I do.”
_________
A/N: Read Part 3 here!
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justwonder113 · 3 years
Text
Midnight adventures
Matsukawa Issei x f.reader
WARNING: Angst to fluff, Slowburn, friends to lovers, mutual pining, kinda long and decent amount of cursing cuz I have no shame. Both reader and Matsun are kind of dumb.
word count 6.5k
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You loved him, you really did, even though he sometimes drove you out of your mind and made you want to bash his head against the wall. And he knew that. He knew what kind of effect he had on you and he was amused by it.  He knew just to push the right buttons, he knew how to rile you up.
You were like an open book to him, so of course he knew you had a crush on him from the start, and you knew that he was aware of your feelings. At first, you were reluctant and refused to admit having the slightest feelings for him, but after some time you accepted the fact and realized that at some point you made your feelings seem obvious. Well, he was your first actual crush, and you were inexperienced.
Your friends would also tease you a lot and at some point, they locked you two together so you could finally confess. It was after their match against shiratorizawa in the third year. That was the day you had your first kiss with him, honestly, you didn't know what happened that night, one moment you were arguing with him because he wanted to leave the team, you were basically yelling how amazing player and teammate he was and the next second you were kissing each other. You expected that after he would confess to you, but he never did. He acted with you like the kiss never happened and that really broke you.
Maybe that is why after all these years you decided to move away, both literally and emotionally. You spent all your high school years waiting for him, waiting for him to make a move, but before you knew it you graduated. You finished school not even holding hands with another boy because you thought he felt the same, you thought that maybe you could be together? But now you realized that it was all load of bullshit. Why did you have to go so far for a person who didn't care about you that much? Why did you have to hold back when he never said no to all the attention he got from girls? You knew that they meant nothing to him and that he only saw them as one-time flings but it still really hurt you. Did you even mean something to him?
You felt mad at yourself, you wasted all these years swooning over someone who didn't return your feelings. But the thing that angered you the most was that you still weren't over him. Your heart would still flutter like crazy whenever you saw him and as much as you hated it he looked better and better every time.  You also hated the fact that you couldn't blame him for all this pain, you couldn't tell that you were heartbroken because he didn't love you, that wasn't much of a reason. You were the silly one here. Why were you even surprised? He knew you for years as friends. He probably only saw you as a friend and considered the kiss as a mistake.
To be honest, he never did anything wrong, he always treated you warmly, and with respect, he liked to piss you off but he never really crossed the line, you couldn't blame him for not loving you. You guys kissed like one time, he probably regretted it and didn't want to hurt your feelings that's why he never brought it up after that. He gave you space. He didn't tell you in your face that he didn't return your feelings, he never broke your heart, you were just the silly one, clinging tightly to that miserable string of hope. You were the weak one for falling for him. It would have been better if he screwed up, if he told you that he could never look at you romantically, maybe it would make you feel a little better, your heart would break but you would get over it? But no destiny said that he had to be perfect.
When you moved away to University you promised yourself that you would start everything from the fresh page, you would work on yourself and no longer be that helpless girl who couldn't even get over her crush. You spent months working on your self-confidence and other issues, you spent countless time getting yourself into shape. Let's say you worked on yourself pretty hard. And it paid off, you had finished university and were about to start your dream job, you had gotten an offer many would dream of, you did everything you wanted, you even got in a few relationships, you should have been satisfied right? Then why didn't feel so? Why was there a feeling of emptiness inside your soul and why was no one able to fill it? It made you furious, after all these years, how could you not move on? Why did you Think about Matsukawa when you kissed other men? Why did you keep comparing everyone to him? What did he even do to deserve a permanent place in your heart? Your heart still kept beating like crazy and it's been what? years? you were in your twenties already, you needed to move on!
You were back in the city to celebrate your friends' victory over his rivals. Oikawa being the flashy person he is decided to throw the biggest party possible and now here you were. You knew you would meet him here, he was his friend as much as you after all, but you didn't expect it to hurt this much. As you said time really had done its job on him, he looked more mature now, he was slightly taller and definitely more muscular, he decided to grow his hair too, you always knew that he would look amazing with slightly longer hair, he had also gotten a few tattoos that were seen through his rolled-up black shirt. Man, did it suit him, the shirt was a bit tight fit and it really complimented his muscular form. The tattoos looked amazing on him and were these rings he was wearing? And piercings! And he had his nails painted black, Really life? He looked like your dream man, thank you very much for nothing!
You knew you would run into him today and you tried to look your best, you knew it was silly but you felt like showing off, but after seeing him you felt kind of self-conscious. You wondered if your dress was a good choice, you chose it as it hugged your curves perfectly and really complimented them but now you were wondering if it was too much. Was your hair alright? You hoped it didn't get frizzy. Oh god, why was everyone staring at you? Your lipstick didn't smudge, right? Even though you were having a war inside your head it simply washed away in an instant as you saw the face of your best friend who was grinning like crazy. You quickly headed to her and engulfed them in a tight hug. God, you missed themso much! You felt lucky just by having them in your life, and they really helped you get through with your issues,they were with you every step of the way and you couldn't be more thankful. If it wasn't for them and your friends you doubted you would be standing here right now. Even though you still felt self-conscious sometimes like now overall you were a pretty confident person who radiated power. Even when you felt weak you managed to look powerful. Maybe this was your resting bitch face? You didn't know. You felt thankful that he didn't notice you he was too busy talking with some woman, typical.
"I missed you so much! Can't believe I'm seeing you after all this time. I really missed you all. And meeting on an occasion like this we just have to celebrate our reunion, I knew Oikawa would beat their asses someday," you grinned proudly. "Okay, I'm getting carried away, I really missed you tho. We have to catch on, let's ditch your them later and have some fun!" You ranted as you occasionally squeezed your best friend who kept chuckling.
"Now now Y/N-chan, you just came back don't go stealing my friends from me!" Oikawa came out of nowhere and snatched your best friend away from you, you pouted but chuckled in the end.
"Can't make promises Flattykawa. And in my defense, I knew them longer." You teased and made a face at him, Oikawa fake gasped and clutched his heart a smile never leaving his face. You missed this idiot and his dramatic shenanigans so bad.
"Again with a nickname! Y/F/N-chan she's being mean!" Your friend only chuckled at Oikawa's childlike behavior and patted his hand.
"She has a point tho." Your friend teased along.
"Betrayed by you too! What else should I expect today?" He whined, you only chuckled and opened your arms.
"I really missed you, you dork! I'm really proud of you," you said sweetly, Oikawa immediately hugged you, you smiled at the familiar warmth, Oikawa has been like an annoying brother to you, you weren't used to not hearing his constant whining and antics even after all these years living apart from them.
"I really missed you too! Nothing's the same without you!" You smiled at Oikawa's warm comment. You were glad they missed you the same way you missed them. You really tried to visit as frequently as you could but it was hard when all of you were covered in work. Out of all third years, Hanamaki and Matsukawa stayed in Japan, you and others left the country for Universities. You felt really emotional, it had been such a long time without them...
"Look at her, hugging Oikawa and Y/f/n-chan first, don't mind me I'm just gonna stand here until you decide to acknowledge me. I thought we had something special Y/n, you're breaking my heart here." You heard a deep voice behind you, you smiled and turned back smirking.
"I would say she has her priorities set right? I mean it's me you are talking about,"Oikawa boasted, Your friend giggled.
"Missed you too Hiro," you grinned as you playfully hit his shoulder then hugged him. It was good to be home.
"Where's my grizzly bear?"  You asked as you searched the crowd for the angry spiky head.
"He's at the bar probably, Oikawa managed to talk his ears out already, he left a minute ago saying "I'm not drunk enough for this shit!" I'm sure he will be happy to see you." Makki smiled and wrapped his hand around your shoulder you smiled and leaned in on his touch. You had missed this so much!
You spent most of the evening chatting with people and having a nice time. Oikawa for sure knew how to throw a party, you even danced with some charming men. You felt uneasy tho, you and Matsukawa made eye contact a few times but none of you even moved to say something, you just smiled at each other awkwardly. Over the night you noticed how many girls approached him, well it wasn't surprising, he was a good looking young man, but you couldn't help but feel a tinge of annoyance on the inside. In the end, you tried your best to be your charming self. You talked to many different men and even danced with more of them, moving your hips passionately along the music. But you felt bored in the end. None of them were interesting, they didn't have a fire you wanted. How long were you going to be like this? Wasn't there someone who could I don't know sweep you off your feet?
Suddenly you felt overwhelmed, the alcohol was starting to kick in and you swayed your hips with a bit more passion, your best friend was next to you, Oikawa had left you two alone to have your time.
"You haven't talked to him right?" As always, Your friend guessed what was bothering you in a second.
"No, and I'm not planning on doing so. If he didn't think I were at least a little bit important than the girls he was talking to then I'm not going to interfere. I have self-respect. He didn't even bother to say hi." You rolled your eyes and chugged another shot, the alcohol mildly burned your throat but you were used to the feeling. You just felt like dancing and maybe even washing your worries away. You wanted to have fun, and you had a reason too, your friend won a gold medal and defeated his rivals! You decided to go and do another shot, getting near the bar, you noticed a familiar spiky head, you smiled and got closer finally sitting next to the buff man.
"Is this seat taken handsome?" You asked seductively, Iwaizumi's shoulders tensed for a second but he relaxed as soon as he saw your grinning face.
"Y/N!" He greeted you with a smile and got up, you were quick to wrap your hand around him.
"Good to see you, daddy." You grinned teasingly, Iwaizumi flushed immediately. You had a habit of teasing him, you often called him daddy because of his aggressive yes, but caring demeanor, and you really enjoyed it when he got flustered. Truth be told you were probably the only person who got away with teasing him without getting punched or kicked.
"God, when will you stop with the dumb nickname? People are going to get a very wrong idea, it's embarrassing," he grumbled and pointed to the bartender by his eyes, who was looking at you from time to time sneakily, he heard you and was shocked, you smirked and gave him a wink, making the boy blush harder. You smiled, as you eyed the boy he was definitely cute.
"I will stop when you won't have an adorable reaction like this," you teased, Iwaizumi only scoffed, but he didn't look mad.
"It's awfully early for you to start drinking, did Oikawa really talk your ears out?" You chuckled, Iwaizumi scoffed again but he looked amused.
"Unfortunately for me yes, I swear to God he never stops talking." You chuckled, it was such an Oikawa thing to do.
"Yeah, I'm glad Oikawa won, I'm sorry for your team but he did work really hard for it and really deserved it." You smiled fondly after noticing Oikawa dancing with your best friend over some cheezy song which probably he had chosen.
"Yeah, I'm glad too. You should have seen him tho, the all smug Oikawa crying nonstop like a baby after he realized he had won, well of course after they left the court, he was like Iwa-chan I did it!" Iwaizumi mimicked Oikawa's crying voice, you giggled. It sounded like Oikawa, "Don't laugh, who do you think had to stop him from crying? "Iwaizumi shuddered as you had a hard time holding your laughter. You had such a good time, you didn't even notice a pair of dark brown eyes observing your giggling form.
"Now all I can see is Oikawa clinging to you like a koala and crying his eyes out."  Iwaizumi only looked at you with an unamused face, making you raise your hands in defeat, the deadly aura didn't go unnoticed by you. Iwaizumi rarely lost his cool around you, but it didn't mean you were immune to his rage. "I'm only kidding, Iwa baby, please don't get mad at me." You lightly pouted as you made puppy dog eyes at him, he only sighed and took another sip from his drink, you smiled and ordered a drink, you visibly relaxed, you didn't feel on edge anymore.
You talked for a while, but unfortunately for you, Iwaizumi had to leave, apparently drunk Oikawa was somewhere causing some trouble. You found it suspicious that was too much even for Oikawa but you didn't question it. Iwaiizumi only grumbled in annoyance and left, being used to all this stuff. You, on the other hand, Made small talk with the cute bartender, he was really good looking and surprisingly very charming and smooth. You were quite drunk already and you were feeling needy, so now here you were making out with him in some empty hallway. He was a good kisser, but you still didn't feel any spark. You wanted to feel the same tingling sensation as the one you felt when you had your first kiss with Issei. The situation was not at all romantic as you said, Oikawa and others locked you in the lockers, to make up after you had a little fight. You bickered at each other for a while, well it was you who was really arguing, you were really mad at him because he was bringing himself down and planned on leaving the team, and you were trying to get to his scull how amazing he actually was and soon your lips were against each other and it felt like the most magical feeling in the whole world. You had never felt anything like that when you kissed others and today was no exception, unfortunately for you. You tried to take the lead in the kiss maybe to make it feel more enjoyable for you but before you could even try, a hand made the man separate from you. You opened your eyes to see Issei, who didn't have a very pleased expression.
"I have business with Y/N, so I don't know, get lost?" Issei said without any emotion. You looked at him dumbfounded. He didn't even bother saying hi earlier, what business would he have with you? The boy, Souma was it? Looked at you two before speaking.
"Dude what the hell we were busy!" He groaned as he glared at Issei, who didn't seem really fazed.
"Do I really look like I care?" Matsukawa asked plainly, You took the chance to straighten up.
"Listen here you little..." Souma stopped before he would go on, as he felt chills run down his spine under Matsukawa's cold glare. You sighed and straightened up.
"I guess it's pretty important, I will contact you later ok?" You asked sweetly, but you both knew you weren't going to contact him. You didn't even have his number and you hadn't given him yours. Souma grumbled and left leaving you with Issei.
As soon as he left you were quick to smack Issei's arm. "Dude, what the fuck?" He only looked at you, grabbed your arm, and led you through the hallway. "What's with the cockblocking? He didn't seem too bad."
"I didn't like him." He said like it was the most obvious thing. It made you feel mad.
"Oh sorry, next time I will choose someone you might like, for future references what type of boys are you into?" You snarled lightly. You wanted to break free from his grasp but it was too strong. Soon your back made contact with the cold wall, and you were caged between Issei's strong arms. You tried to protest but before you could even say a word his lips were on you. You didn't know how to act, your whole body went stiff but after a second you felt your body relaxing.
"God, you're beautiful." He said as he kissed you again, his big hands snaking around your waist. You were speechless, you didn't really realize what was going on. But your body felt like it was on fire. His lips kept brushing against yours just perfectly, your skin was burning hot under his touch. Your heart was beating like crazy, you only managed to whimper against him and he took this as a chance to deepen the kiss. You tried to keep up but it was physically impossible. His kiss was deep and passionate, kind of possessive too. You could feel all his lust through it. You moaned lightly, unable to control yourself. You put your hands on his chest, you could even feel his strong yet fast heartbeat, you pushed lightly, Issei took the hint and leaned back. He stared at you, admiring your beautiful form, you looked so pretty all flustered and breathless, he had wanted to do this for such a long time, for the whole night you had basically been teasing him and his patience was running thin.
"What came over you. I..." You didn't know what to say, you were so confused.
"Do you remember our random sneak outs in highschool?" How could you forget, you just lived for the tiny adventures you, Makki and he used to have at three am. Sometimes when Hiro didn't feel like coming, you would go with him instead. Eating ice cream or random junk food at three am on your special spot, you lived for it. Sometimes you didn't even talk for a whole night but still felt so comfortable. Your chest tightened again at the memory. But why bring it up now? This didn't explain all the raging questions you had.
You nodded your head quietly, looking at him through glossy eyes. "I do. Why?" Your voice was so weak it made you cringe. You didn't know, what was this about? Why bring it up now.
"Would you go on an adventure with me? I know it's Oikawa's special day, but Y/N I... We both know that we need to talk." You looked up at him with wide eyes, you had never seen him like this, he looked so serious and desperate too? Despite feeling all furious and all you nodded and let him lead you through the crowd and to his car.
"I will text him, he might get worried. But what should I say? Where are we even going? We're in Tokyo, don't tell me we're going to Miyagi!" You asked as you sat down in his car, you were confused, all this stuff was confusing you.
"No, I don't plan to take you to Miyagi, I was thinking of ordering a shit ton of junk food via drive-in and then taking you to the place I found earlier. Don't worry I'm sure you will like it." Issei assured you as he got in his car, started the engine, and started driving.
"Are you really trying to get on my good side via food? I'm really mad it's not going to be that easy." You furrowed your eyebrows, Issei huffed a laugh.
"Maybe I am? We both know that you will sell your soul to satan for a bag of doritos! If I keep your mouth busy while I tell you something at least I won't have to worry about you biting my head off," Issei pointed out like it was the most obvious argument while smirking proudly, you scoffed.
"I will hit you so hard after you stop the car, I'm not doing it now because I value my life. And besides, it's not about whether or not I will like the place. It can be next to a strip bar or some abandoned place, what's important is that you will say and you know that." You said as a matter of fact and turned away from him, looking through the window.
"I know." He sighed after a second, the atmosphere was heavy, opposite of what you were used to. You started liking Mattsun because things were easy with him and that it was full adventures, but now... You had to calculate everything you said, how you moved, how you looked at him, and stuff. When did it become so painful to be in the same space as him? And the stuff he wanted to tell you terrified you. What if he admitted that he never saw you seriously? That he only felt desire for you at some doing and nothing else. You didn't even know what made him act up today, did he have at least the slightest feelings for you or did he just found desirable in that tight dress? Maybe he just didn't like the face another man tried to take you away. Either way, anxiety was eating you from the inside. Your heart kept beating rapidly and your fingers actually hurt from playing too hard with them.
You were so lost in your thoughts you didn't even notice how he ordered and got the food. You only came back to reality only when he opened your door gently took your hand in his big one. "We're here." He helped you get out of it. The cold air immediately hit you, making you shiver slightly. "Here take this." He said as he put his jacket on your shoulders, it was so big you were basically swimming in it but on the contrary, it was really warm and soft and it smelled like him! Just perfect, you immediately snuggled in. Mattsun then took the food package from the backseat. He quickly locked the car and led you through again. You were now in front of a big clearly abandoned building, you hesitated for a second and tightened your grip around his hand, Issei looked at you, carefully examining your face."Are you feeling scared? I promise it's a safe place, I have been here. You still like exploring weird buildings like this right?" He teased lightly, squeezing back your hand. You only pouted.
"I do like exploring buildings like this, but when I said abandoned building I was joking you know that right? I like these kinds of places but not in dresses like this and especially not in high heels. I like being prepared to run from my life if there's a huge creep or some sort of monster, I don't know! And I haven't done something like that for such a long time, and we're not in Miyagi too, everything's new here!" You said as a matter of fact while playing with your hair, Issei only chuckled. You felt nervous. Before you could even comprehend what was happening Issei had already picked you over his shoulder. You felt like a sack of potatoes.
"Oh my god, Matsun what are you doing? Put me down!" You tried squirming away at the same time you clutched his shirt too afraid to fall. He started laughing, you felt vibrations through his back, you couldn't help but smile, you liked when he laughed.
"No way, I like carrying you and I have the best view too so no way princess."You could tell he was grinning while looking at your ass and it made you mumble in annoyance. You gasped when he spanked your bottom lightly, you smacked his back in response. "Do you like the view?"
"Shut up!" You whined, which made him chuckle harder. "Put me down, my dress is short!" You started wiggling again, but he had a death grip on you. You could feel the blood rushing to your face and at this point, you were not sure if it was from embarrassment, just having your head low and blood rushing to your head or just anger.
After a minute of him walking and you admiring his ass, he finally put you down. You looked around, the building was empty, there was no furniture and some of the walls were covered in graffiti. Other than that you enjoyed the place, it had a certain vibe to it. You wandered for a second, exploring the room. When you turned around you didn't see him, you walked around and eventually came out on the huge veranda. The sight made you gasp, Issei had laid the blankets on the floor and taken out the food, it looked so cozy! There were some pillows too. It was just like a little picnic, the dim streetlights also shone nicely with some fairy lights there and there and the sight in front of you of the night city was magnificent. Everything looked so simple yet so perfect.
"Okay, stop or I might have to actually marry you." You pointed at everything dramatically, you couldn't contain your smile. Everything looked like the pics you have seen on social media or in the movies. Issei smiled at you softly, you looked so cute all excited like that. His jacket really suited you too, you looked so perfect.
"I knew you would like this. I'm glad you actually agreed to come." He smiled and patted space next to him, you sighed and sat carefully, holding down your dress, it was short at it was you didn't want it to slide up too much.
"You knew I wouldn't refuse such tempting request, didn't you? I always liked our little adventures," you smiled fondly, recalling sweet high school memories.
You spent few minutes in silence watching the city, eating there and there, but it wasn't uncomfortable like before, your anxiety had calmed down a little too. You just sat there and enjoyed the moment. You didn't even notice when he took your hand but you didn't bother to take it back. You wished you could stay like this forever but you also knew it was wrong. You had to ask the question, even if hearing it could destroy you. You both knew that.
"Matsu, why did you kiss me earlier? I'm trying to understand what's going on between us but now I'm especially confused. Why did you do it? I thought you didn't like me," You were talking quietly, but in reality, it was really hard for you to contain your sea of emotions. Issei tightened his grip on your delicate fingers, neither of you bothered to look at each other in the eyes. He took a deep breath and started talking quietly.
"I don't know myself. I thought I had let go of you, I thought I was over you, but when I saw you again all feelings came crashing down on me again. You looked so breathtaking, I fell in love with you all over again. So pretty and all dolled up and this dress. God this dress, hugs you so perfectly on all the places I want to touch, I actually feel jealous of it. I want to rip it off and have you all to myself and never let go. I don't want to let go now that I tasted your lips again." He spoke lowly, his voice was raspy and it sent chills down your spine. " You are the most beautiful person here you know that right? You are probably the most beautiful person in the whole city, I think even in whole Japan or better the world!" Matsun kept going on and on setting your heart ablaze. You were mad, but at the same time, you were so at ease and felt so at comfort. It was like your mind and heart were battling each other and you had no idea which would win.
"I'm still really mad at you." You grumbled against his chest, Issei hummed and wrapped his hands tighter around your waist.
"I know and you have every right to." Issei hummed and pecked your hair, he then grabbed your chin lightly and made you look at him. "I'm really sorry Y/N, all I have been doing is to cause you pain. It was never my intention. I love you, god, I love you so much! I know you will be better without me. You can find so many who are way better than I am and would treat you like you really deserve. And I thought I came around with the fact that I wouldn't be the one to have you in the end. I always knew that. That's why I never made any kind of move on you. When you entered the party you looked like a different person. You were the most beautiful person I have ever met, you looked so confident and comfortable in your own skin and most of all you looked so happy! I didn't want to come to you and ruin it. I felt so proud too, you achieved so many things! God, you don't know how proud I am to even know you!" Matsun kept going on and on, you haven't even heard him talk this much in a row, he was always a man of few words. He looked so desperate too, and the way his voice broke, killed you too. You had known him for years but you still never had seen him like this. Honestly, You had no idea what to do. You wanted to yell at him and comfort him at the same time. You tightened your grip around his hand, your knuckles were starting to whiten but you didn't care. You wanted for him to know you were listening, that you were there.
"Matsun, I..." You tried to start but he interrupted you.
"Please let me finish." The tone of his broken voice immediately made you shut up. "I know it was my own choice to let you go, and I really thought I was fine with that but when I saw you... When I saw you something like snapped in me. I tried to take my mind away, I kept talking to this women to keep my mind off of you, but how can I pay any attention to these peasants when a literal goddess has taken over my heart? And when I saw you kissing that asshole I almost went feral! I would have murdered him if I had a chance. He was touching the one I basically find sacred so disrespectfully, I almost lost my mind. Then I got you to myself I couldn't help but kiss you. Your lips always look so welcoming I couldn't help myself. And I want to do it again and again. I don't ever want to let go. I miss you like crazy! I don't know if I can be apart from you again. I... God, I sound so pathetic, I don't even understand what's happening with me. I covered this place with blankets and stuff you love because I hoped you would come to another adventure with me. Funny thing is that I wasn't even planning on asking, I don't know how we ended up here. I thought I would end up coming here all alone, wallowing myself in self-pity again. I know I don't deserve it, and I know that everything's my fault and my fault only and I would understand if you don't want to have anything to do with me, but could you give me another chance? I don't think I can last any more minute without you. I miss you so much it actually hurts."
Matsukawa looked at you with pleading eyes, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, you were getting in his lap and were kissing him like there was no tomorrow. He was startled for a second, he clearly didn't expect you to have a reaction like this but he wasn't against it at all. In fact, in a second, he was the one taking the lead and deepening the kiss. His hands digging in your hair while you slid yours through his hair. He would have continued doing so before you leaned back and broke the kiss. He looked at you half dazed. You were quick to bring him back to his senses when you harshly smacked his head.
"That hurts!" He complained, which made you more fueled up and now you punched his shoulder.
"That's the point of hitting! I want it to hurt you asshole!" You yelled. "You know you're a huge fucking idiot right? What's with this bullshit about not being worthy to be next to me? If I didn't think your ass was worthy I wouldn't have fallen in love with you! My taste in men may not be that great but I'm not stupid! I appreciate that you're thinking about my happiness or whatever, even though it's totally uncalled for, and thank me for not beating your ass further! But I get to decide what's good for me and what's not. To your surprise genius, that comes to dating too! I get to decide whom I want to date and fall in love with and in this case, it happens to be you, fuck it always has been you! I had some partners but I didn't love any of them, cause your caterpillar brow ass has managed and captured my heart, I always come to compare them to you, and guess what they're not you! God, you can be so stupid for someone who is supposed to be smart! I'm really disappointed Matsun and mad too! I want to beat your ass even further! God, how did you even manage to come up with this bullshit? I swear to god!" You kept grumbling while messing with Issei who looked like he was still in shock, his cheeks were dusted pink and you couldn't help but squeal on the inside from how cute you found it. You made Issei blush! That was an achievement for sure and such an adorable one too! But you couldn't back down now, you felt actually mad that he had such dumb thoughts like this, but on the other hand, you found it very endearing and cute. He was trying to protect you! And by the looks of it, he was hurting just as much as you. But the fact remained the same, he loved you. Your dream came true, he shared the same feelings! You felt so happy, you wanted to kiss his face till your lips fell off.
"You know you don't have to straight ass roast me right?" Issei tried to look offended but he was having a hard time hiding his grin, you smiled and pinched his cheek making him roll his eyes.
"Oh baby, I'm not even started. What did you think I was going to forget everything? And don't be mislead Makki can't even come close to me when it comes to teasing. You're in for a ride sweetheart, teasing is only just begging, maybe if you find a few ways to shut me up, and you know what I mean, I could keep quiet for a while, you could atone for your stupid ass mistakes with many kisses for starters. I don't know Matsu get creative. The point is you're stuck with me and you can't even run from me now you got it? No more bullshit like I don't deserve you and stuff like that," You said as slowly and as seductively as you could having your face close to his and occasionally brushing your lips against his. Still being in his lap gave you the perfect leverage and you just loved the way he was tightly holding your hips, to keep your bodies close. You felt complete after such a long time...
The hurt and all the emotions didn't wash away immediately obviously, you knew that your wounds would take time to heal, but now at least you knew Issei would be next to you through the journey and that was enough. You knew that now, that you had talked things through, maybe yelled from your side but still, you knew that you could overcome many things together. You just needed to voice your thoughts out.
"Wasn't even planning on it baby," he growled while he closed the distance between your lips again making you squeal a little. Yup, you just loved your little midnight adventures.
God, I can't believe I actually wrote over 6500+words. No wonder my eyes hurt like a bitch lol. Anyway, I really hope you will like it. If you have any kind of feedback please notify me. I'll gladly take some healthy criticism. I really want to improve my writing and I promise I will do my best. This is a firts work I have ever published on tumblr and I really hope you will like it^^
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Note
hi!! do u mind if i request? maybe a tommy x reader who’s been struggling recently, with like getting out of bed, doing homework and stuff, and one day she doesn’t respond all day (probably just lying in bed all day or sm) and tommy goes to her house to see what’s up and comforts her and tries to help (even tho he’s lowkey bad at it he can always make u laugh that’s fax) and they kinda have like a ‘self care/help day’ with face masks and movies and unending laughter? thank u so much!!
Oooooo my first writing request! By the way it's written, I assume the reader is a female so that's what is gonna be written! Thanks for requesting!
I accidentally made this a little more dramatic than intended...
I Don't Know What To Do (So I'll Make You Smile) (Plat!Tommyinnit x F!Reader)
He didn't quite understand why you became so... Unmotivated lately. You briefly mentioned that you couldn't drag yourself over to your desk, let alone bring yourself to do the homework your teacher assigned.
Normally he didn't care too much and always said (jokingly) about how you should drop out of school and become a minecraft streamer. He got heavily scolded by Philza for suggesting it though. Normally, though.
Lately he's been taking glances at your report cards when you weren't looking and saw you mostly has C's and D's down the board. You were failing.
At the time, he didn't know how to bring it up or whether or not he should, and asked Philza Minecraft for help on what he should do. Phil explained to him that your mental situation was actually looking pretty bad and he suggested that Tommy go check up on you as soon as possible.
So, like any modern day teen, he texted you way more often than before, anything from asking if you wanted to hang out or stream with him, or sending you some stupid tiktok he found.
At first it was working and Tommy couldn't help but feel proud of himself. But then one day you didn't text him back.
His brain just told him you were busy at that time and left it at that, but then it struck 6pm and he still recieved no response.
A little annoyed by being ignored, Tommy threw on a quick sweater and his shoes before heading to the door. After a quick shout to his mother, explaining that he was heading to your house, he stepped out and walked across the pavement.
Within a few steps, he was standing at your door awkwardly. Normally he would've just burst in with a lame yet some how dramatic greeting to your parents before storming to your room (it happened at least four times a week. They got used to it within the first month.) but now... Something held him back.
Were you okay? Were you ignoring him on purpose? Maybe he was being a bit too dramatic?
Ah. Since when has that ever stopped him?
With a sudden burst of confidence, he grabbed the doorknob and let himself in. Your parents were at work so he made sure to be extra annoying this time, pay back for ignoring him! "I'm breaking into your home!" He yelled dramatically after reaching out and pressing the doorbell a few times to alert his existence even more.
He took his shoes off and made his way to your room, the pathway ingrained into his mind at this point.
When he reached the door, he gave a brief knock (he had manners. Sometimes.) Before turning the knob. "You better be decent for both of our sanity!" He called before finally opening it.
Your room looked... Empty... at first. In the beginning, he thought you weren't home, that is until the blankets began to shift and there was an annoyed groan.
"Soooo dramatiiiiic..." You huffed, unfurling yourself from your cocoon of blankets to glare at him jokingly, but he looked more surprised.
"You look like you got hit with a bus!"
"Well screw you too..."
Tommy snorted before awkwardly sitting on the edge of your bed. "So.. why haven't you been up today? Or... Well.. Passing your classes?"
You were definitely shocked that Tommy noticed, and part of you wanted to joke to ease the tension, but you figured that would make it harder on him. "Well... See... I've been struggling a lot with my mental state and everything just became really stressful, but even then I couldn't do it... And.. Well still can't.."
"Why... Not?" He looked at you in confusion and you just shrugged slightly, running your hand through your bedhead... Which you could see Tommy trying his absolute hardest not to snicker at.
"I don't really feel motivated... I can't even really get out of bed.."
The blond boy gave you an awkward pat on the arm, making you roll your eyes. "Uhhh.. You.. wanna watch a movie? Or... Oh! Maybe we could go egg Wilbur's house while he's off being a simp for Nikki!"
You scoffed and began to laugh into your hand which caused Tommy to greatly relax. "That's hours away, Tommy... We'd never get there before my parents get back. But we can watch a movie?"
"You're no funnnn!" He whined dramatically with a slight hint of a smile before shaking his head, "Go at least brush your hair while I find a movie, it looks like a porcupine got struck by lightening."
You rolled your eyes and slowly began to shuffle out of bed to make your way to the bathroom while Tommy turned on the TV in your room, having been here enough times that he knew how to use it.
When you came back, mostly cleaned up with a sweater thrown over your pajamas, you saw Tommy putting on one of his favourite comedy movies. There was also some snacks he had probably raided your kitchen or secret candy stash for, but you didn't mind. You flopped back down into your bed, while Tommy hit play.
"I never under stand why women always make such a bit deal over pulling those face mask things off of their face!" Tommy gestured to the scene that was playing in the movie. "Also why do they need so many face products? Doesn't water and dish soap do the trick?"
"You do NOT use dish soap on your face!" You gaped at his response to the movie. "And trust me... Those peel masks hurt." You saw Tommy roll his eyes for a moment before you got an idea. "Wanna try?"
The teen looked at you as if you were high on glue, but then he saw the challenging look in your eyes, and everyone knows that Tommy Big Man Innit NEVER backs down from a challenge. Or maybe he knew it would make you happy? "It can't be that bad!"
You knew he was gonna regret that.
You paused the movie while you scrambled to get your skin care products ready. First you made him wash his face, moisturize, etc etc, which he complained about non stop, but you always told him to quit whining or he was admitting to losing against the woman in the movie. He instantly quit complaining, calling the actress and pansy and hell bent determined to prove himself as an alpha male.
You made him put his hair back with a cheap headband you had, which caused his blond locks to practically flare out in every direction. After laughing about it for a minute, you made him sit down so you could paint the mask on.
"Sit still!"
"But it feels weird!"
"Keep quiet or this brush is going up your nose!"
"You wouldn't DARE."
"Wanna bet on it?"
After about five minutes of even more whining, you finally got the masks painted on you both as Tommy decided to take a picture of himself for Twitter to meme about.
Tommyinnit
Women are weird with their face skin care stuff...
While you both waited for the masks to dry, you had some how convinced Tommy to let you paint his nails but ONLY if he could do yours as well. We all know Tommy isn't about that toxic masculinity.
Once it was dry, you could see Tommy scrunching his face repeatedly, most likely not used to the unusual feeling. "Can I take this off now? I'm determined to prove myself better than those actors!"
You bit your lip to hide your grin as you gave a nod. Because yours was also dry, you showed him how to find an edge and how to pull it off.
"Ow! What the hell!?"
You snickered as you watched Tommy begin to yelp in pain as he began to pull the mask off, only able to do tiny tiny little bits at a time before needing a moment to gather himself, eyes watering.
You, being a boss, were already majority of the way done pulling the face mask off causing Tommy's jaw to d r o p. "You're a literal hell spawn! How are you not bawling your eyes out from the pain?!"
"I've done this quite a lot of times honestly. It's not that bad." You lied through your teeth. Honestly it hurt quite a lot, but you were just enjoying seeing Tommy gawk at you before trying to peel the mask off more, only to yelp and whine.
It took twenty minutes, and eventually, he got the product off and stared at his reddened face in the mirror. He decided to take another picture (with permission) for Twitter with you being a smug little shit while his eyes were still watery and his skin still irritated.
Tommyinnit
I respect women even more now...
(Yourusername)
@/tommyinnit Wimp.
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kakakakashi · 4 years
Note
Darling!! I just really want to say thank you for ALL your UCHIHA hcs!! They’re absolutely delicious!! Anyway I know your super busy but if you have time may I prettyyyyy pls maketh a small request for kinktober?? A pregnant sex hc with all our fav uchihas? I just can’t get enough of your Uchiha breeding kink TM 😂 I love your work! Stay Cherrylicious! ❤️🍒
You are cherrylicious, fam! 🍒 Lol, thanks. My hcs aren’t delicious, though. The Uchiha are… At least Shisui is. The further I get in with the story, the more I’ll be able to add. Personally, I’m not doing kinktober just because I’ve got too much on my plate rn, but lbr, I never need an excuse to be nasty. I’m just gonna be gross 365 days a year. My kinkiness isn’t limited to a month. You can’t get enough? Lol, neither can they. Motherfuckin Uchiha. Anyway…
*NSFW under the cut*
Itachi
This man gets so soft for you when he sees you doing domestic shit when you’re pregnant, and he just remembers how much he adores you.
You’re doing something as simple as drying the dishes while he washes, and as soon as the two of you are done, he just kisses you so sweetly and passionately.
You can’t deny him kisses when he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky.
Do you start it? Does he start it? Nobody knows.
You’re already being carried to the bedroom, so he can make slow, sweet love to you.  
He literally worships you, paying extra attention to your bump because he can’t believe that you’ve got his kid in there.
He plays with your breasts a lot too, and it feels so good.
Will insist that you lay back and let him take care of you.
Believe me, you will not lift a finger. This dork is not having it. Like, you’re already doing so much for him, he just wants to make you feel so good.
He’ll eat you out until you’ve come at least twice just from his tongue and fingers before he even thinks about putting his dick in you.
And he takes it slow, like I said. He just wants to pamper you.
He makes sure you’re in the most comfortable position possible while he’s languidly thrusting in and out of you.
It’s all very soothing and relaxing.
When you come the third time, it rolls over you in slow, undulating waves, and he works you through it with fluid motions that have your body feeling like you’re floating.
After you come down, he’s on the verge of following you, your walls spasming and contracting around him and encouraging his hips to stutter while he moans, and his eyes roll back.
You’re both fuckin spent, and your entire body’s tingly.
Itachi just gently kissed everywhere across your skin while you stay connected for a bit, just cherishing each other.
Ugh, it’s so soft and good. It’s like your underwater.
Madara
He’s not necessarily actively interested in pregnant sex in my opinion.
Like, you’re already pregnant. His job is done. He’s gonna go fight Hashirama until you have the kid.
Then, he’ll fuck another one into you.
So, if you want it, you’re gonna have to seduce him.
Given, it’s not that hard. Just get him jealous or just sit on his lap while he’s reading and start grinding on him.
He’ll eventually put down whatever he was reading.  
He’ll also definitely make you get off on his thigh before he fucks you.
He’ll also make you take off all your clothes while he’s still completely clothed.
He likes the look of your bump while you pleasure yourself on his thigh.
He’s just going to watch you while you take what you need because you’re so desperate for him.
Like, you’ve already got his baby inside you, and it’s still not enough for you?
Then he’s gonna make you ride him right there on the couch.
He’ll make you beg for it first, though.
Your legs will be exhausted, but it’ll totally be worth it.
He’s going to allow you to control the pace for once just because he doesn’t want to hurt the baby.
He basically just sits and makes you do all the work for once.
And once he’s done, he’ll carry you to your bed and clean you up because you’re carrying an Uchiha, and you deserve to be taken care of for that, no matter how rough around the edges he is.  
Obito
Pregnancy hormones are a bitch sometimes.
And let me tell you, you are so fucking horny, and he’s not even close to complaining.
There’s this one comedian who did a show about having a kid… and I just can’t get it out of my head rn because I feel like there’s this one part… that’s just… the epitome of being pregnant with Obito’s kid, but anyway.
“It’s like having sex with Space Mountain!”
If you know what this is from, let’s be friends.
So literally, anytime you’re feeling horny, just go for it.
It’s so good for him, like… he didn’t have a pregnancy kink until you got pregnant because the sex is just that fucking good.
Just, all the magical contractions and positions and shit.
And every time, you’re blowing his mind, and he’s blowing yours.
It’s very sloppy and hot, but he still tries his best to be gentle with you.
He loves experimenting with positions, and he definitely wants to incorporate some of them into your sex life after the pregnancy
He will literally do anything you ask. You make the rules in the bedroom when you’re pregnant. The only thing he won’t do is something that could potentially harm you or the baby.
He loves how your tits get bigger, and he loves to play with them when you guys fuck.
Lots of nipple play. Oops.
He always kisses your belly after when he gets all soft and cuddly. He’ll also talk to the baby while you’re lying down together.
Sasuke
He can’t wait for you to give birth, so he can put another one in you. Like, he’s counting down the days until your due date because he wants to restore his clan have a big family, okay?
Nobody dies here.
But like… sometimes, he just sees you, and his brain goes to his dick.
The man has no self-control in all honesty. Like… *gestures to the entirety of Naruto*
Anyway, he’s like “the love of my life carrying my child must not be touched by anyone,” but then his dick gets hard, and he’s like “... except me... to please them.”
So, he’s gonna give you that slow broody sex that he’s too into because the boy is Dramatique™ .
And I mean, are you really complaining when he’s fucking you nice and slow, letting you really feel everything in your overly sensitive state?
The answer is no.
He’s another one that will do his best to make you comfortable before he starts, but he does it quietly.
And as he gets closer, his pace picks up until it’s more moderate than slow.
And he’s gonna tell you that he can’t wait for you to have your baby so he can knock you up again.
Especially because it’s so good.
And you cum pulling his hair and crying his name.
He’s just living for it all, and the breeding kink comes out, and he’s just kind of a mess.
Sasuke is another one that will be like “You’re already pregnant with my child, and you’re still begging me to cum in you?”
He will, though.
And he’ll take whatever pours out on his fingers to push it back inside you.
Shisui
Nasty motherfucker gets turned on when you wear tighter clothes, and he sees your bump bulging underneath.
He’s like “Yeah, I did that. I put that baby in there.”
Omg, god forbid you wear something that makes the bump peek out.
He also kind of wants to make you feel really good because he knows your body is going through a lot making a whole other person.
He’ll insist you sit on his face even more than usual.
With all the contractions and sensitivity, the man’s gonna fuck you every chance he gets.
He also thinks your pregnancy glow is really sexy.
Like, if you’re even the slightest bit horny, he’s got you on your back on the nearest surface.
He just really wants to please you all the time because you’re carrying his baby. Like… he just thinks the sun shines out your ass.
On days where you’re both off, he always tries to convince you to just stay home all day.
He just wants to snuggle and talk and make love all day because he wants you to be pampered in your state.
Some days you let him, and you just take your time with each other.
He’ll make you sit on his face, and when you try to return the favor, he just stops you because “don’t worry about it. We have all day, love.”
And the whole day is just bathed in this ethereal golden glow while he draws countless moans and sighs out of you.
He’s also gonna kiss everywhere on your body, especially your bump.
He knows that body insecurities can come with pregnancy, but he wants to quiet those fears before they even have the chance to develop.
It’s literally all about you. It’s so fucking sweet, and this dork is just wonderful.
OMG, but your kid 100% has his lil dimples. K thx byee.
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azuregiggles · 3 years
Note
i love these prompt things haha
could you possibly do 15 with ler!sap, lee!dream ?
I’m not sure which list you wanted 15 from so I’ll try both lol
15. “You lose, I tickle you. Deal?”
15. Person A doesn’t like their smile, so they always cover it when they laugh, much to person B’s disappointment. In retaliation, Person B starts lightly tickling Person A, who covers their smile, but it means they can’t use their hands to stop Person B’s tickles. As they slowly get worse and worse Person A eventually breaks.
@fluffallamaful I hope you like it :)
Masked Smiles [Ler!Sap Lee!Dream]
Author’s Note: I’ve never written a full on Fic before so forgive me on this first attempt. Sorry if the intro takes too long. This is a platonic relationship.
Summary: Dream hides his smile and Sap has had enough.
It had been nearly a year since Sap had moved in with his masked friend. In that time Dream had slowly become comfortable enough to keep his mask off everyday. It had taken a while and Sap was grateful to have finally made it as far as they had. Once Dream had opened up to him their friendship took off rather fast. These days they could joke and laugh about almost anything, much like they were now.
Together in Dreams streaming studio they were placing bets with the chat as to whether Dream could beat Saps record on some parkour course they had come across. So far Dream had come really close, and chat was on his side.
“Ooh maybe if you weren’t trash at Minecraft you’d be able to keep your spot on the leaderboard Sap” Dream read the dono and laughed, hand over his mouth to cover his arrogant grin. Sap rolled his eyes, he didn’t care about the dono, he just wished Dream would smile freely rather than cover it up all the time.
“Why do you always cover your smile? You don’t even have a face cam no one can see you...” Sap asked the green hooded man.
A faint blush adorned Dream’s features “I don’t like my smile, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Once again Sap found himself rolling his eyes, he’d see him smile eventually, he’d find a way.
The stream continued another hour and Dream still hadn’t overcome Sap on the Leaderboard. Chat was getting bored and Dream wanted to move on to the next event.
“One last try chat, one more. Last prediction, Will I beat Sap? Place your bets.”
“What if we had a bet of our own?” Sap said in a mischievous tone.
Dream, who was always up for more ways to pick on his roommate didn’t hesitate “What kind of bet?”
“You lose, I tickle you. Deal?”
Dream flushed a lovely red, very grateful for push to talk “WHAT!? Why the heck would you ask for that!? What kind of a bet is that?”
“Oh wow is THE Dream, GOD of Minecraft, scared of a little bet? Worried you’ll lose?”
“Oh my gohod you’re so dramatic. No, I’m not scared of your stupid bet. WHEN I win I’m making you walk to the store in a dress and makeup.” Dream covered his giggles “No, no. If I win, you post pictures after I do your makeup.”
“Alright, deal?” Sap extended his hand. Surprised that his friend would agree so easily, Dream hesitated. “Well, you scared.”
Rolling his eyes, Dream shook his hand and the bet was made. “Alright chat, Sap and I placed a bet on this last run. WHEN I win you all get to see how pretty he is in makeup” his usual maniac laughter followed as chat exploded with encouragement and questions. “Last run here we go”
After a few minutes of dodging pistons, riding mine carts, and jumping from ladder to ladder, it was time. Dream was at the final stretch. Only six blocks stood between him and victory. He jumped from the fence to the ladder, mentally counting down. Five more. Off the ladder and onto the slime block, up to the end rod. Four, three. A sprint jump to another fence. Two. Across to the final ladder, up and to the runway where he’d need a perfect sprint jump to cross the six block gap. One left. He ran, jumping in time to build momentum. Reaching the end of the platform he jumped, and missed the ladder by what felt like only a pixel.
“WHAATT! What the heck was that!? I HAD THAT!” Dream smacked his headphones down as chat filled with Omegalul, Fs, and Notlikethis. He had lost. “That shouldn’t count. Chat I think I deserve another run.”
“No, you don’t! You lost Dream!” Sap laughed before getting close to his ear “You know what that means now right?” He placed his hands at the other’s sides, earning a squeak.
“NO! You have to let me end stream” nervous, muffled, giggles flooded the air “we are NOT doing this while I’m live!” Sap withdrew his hands and told him to make it quick. Dream only managed to stall for a couple of minutes by reading donos before Sap wiggled his fingers in the air. The message was clear, he could end now or suffer through whatever had Sap possessed. With a last goodbye to chat, he ended the stream and shut off the PC. “So, uh...”
Sap scooped his friend out of the chair, not waiting to hear whatever excuses he’d planned to get out of this. Dream struggled over his shoulder, gently punching him until Sap squeezed his side, causing his hands to shoot up and cover his mouth. Once in the living room Sap tossed Dream onto a large bean bag, after all bean bags are shifty and much harder to escape from. Straddling the green one’s waist with a smirk Sap smirked down “Alright if you feel like you’re about to die the safe word is Smile.”
“Sahafe word?” he couldn’t hold back his covered giggles “What is thihihis, Fifty Shades of- SHIHIT!” He was promptly cut off by the fingers digging into his ribs. “NOHOHO StahaHART sohomWHEHEre EHEHLSE” Dream pleaded with his roommate, there was no way he’d be able to hide his face for long if this continued. Rolling his eyes with a huff, Sap switched to kneading his sides. Dreams sporadic laughing slowed to high pitched giggles. “Okahay yohou tickled me pleheheHEASE Sahahap”
“Please what? It hasn’t even been two minutes you big baby” Sap drilled his thumbs into the lowest rib on each side. Dream let out a tea kettle wheeze and his hands shot down to push at the offending digits before snapping back up to cover his mirthful grin once more. But, it was too late, Sap had seen his smile and he wanted to again. “Move your hands!”
“HEHELL NOHO”
“I already saw it so you might as well give it up Dreamy~” he cooed. A brilliant, deep red washed over the laughing boys face, barely visible through his fingers. Both hands managed to sneak under Dream’s shirt and start to skitter up and down his belly “Awww you’re so red~ I thought your favorite color was green”
New peals of high pitched, desperate laughter filled the air “FHUHUHUK YOHOHOU! J-Juhuhust SHAHADDUP Ahahalready!”
Sap clicked his tongue, shaking his head “You haven’t even tried to stop me yet, you didn’t try to run. It’s almost like you missed that jump on purpose Dream. Did you secretly want this~?” A series of sputtered, incoherent words were all the answer he needed. “No way?! Does the little speed runner like having his tummy tickled?” Sap slowed to gentle pokes so he could receive an answer.
Both arms rose to cover his deep red face “Gohohod yohou’re SO ANNOYING, shuhut uhuhup. I’m gonna kihihihill you”
“Uh-huh, whatever you say giggle bitch! Now, let’s see that smile” Sap used both hand to try pulling his arms down.
“I already told you no! You’re literally soho dumb! I’m not gonn- FUHUCK NO NO SAHAHAP NOT THERE!” A strangled shriek escaped Dreams throat as his best friend dug into his hips. He tried to buck Sap off but the bean bag didn’t allow him enough leverage.
“Oh? Is this your worst spot?” He inquired, going from squeezing to kneading and drilling his thumbs into the bone. Another ticklish shriek escaped the man beneath him.
“NOHOHO! DOHOHONT! SAHAHAP! DOHOHOHONT”
“I’m not doing anything! Don’t what?” He feigned an innocent tone.
“TIHIHICKLE MEHEHE” Dream didn’t realize until he’d said it what he’d fallen into “WAHAIHIT NOHOHO- ACK!”
“Only because you asked buddy!” One hand kneaded Dream’s hip and the other pulled one hand from his face so he could blow a raspberry on his neck. The dam broke.
“*snort* SAHAHAP NAHAHAP PLEHEHEASE!” his free hand shot down to push away the attack on his waist, the other still held captive “*wheeze* STAHAHAP PLEHEHEASE” his smile was free.
“Aww you sounded like Techno for a second there! I gave you a safe word~” he cooed directly into the green man’s ear before resuming the raspberry onslaught.
“SHUHUHUT UHUHUP SAHAHAP! I DOHOHONT CAHAHARE! STAHAHAP!”
Sap stopped blowing raspberries long enough to drink in Dream’s smile. He had no reason to hide it, his teeth were white, they weren’t crooked. It was a nice smile. “Say the word, or I’m not gonna stop.”
He hesitated until Sap gave him a final raspberry, this time on his belly “FIHIHINE SMIHIHILE!”
The attack immediately ceased and Dream’s wrist was set free. “You okay?”
Self conscious and flustered Dream nodded, still giggling from the phantom tickles but not covering his face anymore.
“You have a nice smile” Sap ruffled his friend’s hair and climbed off of him.
“I hahate you”
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writingsbychlo · 3 years
Note
💭
Ayyy Congrats Chlo! Can I get a 💭 of Noah when his girl is pregnant? Like how is he through it snd when she's in labor?
no more requests, the sleepover is over, I'm just finishing up what's in my inbox!
I got so carried away with this
he would be so good by the labour stage
but lets be real, he takes a hot minute to get adjusted
now, don't get me wrong, this was planned
and he is damn excited to be a dad
you've been taking folic acid and vitamin D and all the good stuff
and you were both elated and crying when the test came back positive
but he does take a moment to actually realise what it means
like he did not think that far through, if he's honest
rubbing your back throughout morning sickness
but like, he doesn't quite get it
you have a significantly lowered sex drive
breast tenderness and morning sickness and he is kinda sexually frustrated
it takes him a moment to adjust to that because y'all had been pretty active before, and he has to take care of himself now
not to mention, you're a lot more sleepy
he knew you'd get sleepy, but he expected it to come later, not as early in the pregnancy as the first few weeks
so there's a lot of things that have to be cancelled
like concerts and things
but he was looking forwards to them
and it causes some arguments to begin with
like when he went to the concert with boyd instead
and you'd put a blanket and pillow on the couch for him
or the argument that came with him insisting that he could ride the bike a little longer
and the little strop he gets in when you throw out all the foods on the list your midwife gave you after your first antenatal appointment
"you can't eat them, but I can! why do we have to throw it all out?"
"because you're supposed to be supporting me!"
"I am supporting you, but I still want to eat my food!"
"fine, keep it then!"
and he feels bad two weeks later when you go to game night
and derek and stiles have laid out an awesome looking spread
with charcuterie boards and cheeses and crackers and wine
and he knows how much you love all of that stuff
and you literally can't have any of it
in fact, you brought your own meal, which is a salad and plain crackers and it's not exactly game night material
and so he does some research into food and writes down everything you can and can't have
and he watches a video on best recipes for pregnancy and he makes one for you
a little surprise dinner for when you get home from work
"what's all this?"
"well, you know, your meals look kinda' miserable. but, you're literally growing our child, so you should get to eat nice things, and I googled a good recipe for pregnancy safe meals."
noah getting laid that night
and afterwards, when you're asleep on his chest, he realises how easy it is when he stops thinking it's gonna be a struggle
at around about 7 weeks, you start getting more emotional
crying more at movies and getting mad at random things and being a lot clingier than usual
which he doesn't mind, of course
but it freaks him out sometimes
"noah, what the fuck?" while in tears and he's freaking out because he has no idea how bad he fucked up or what he did "there's a dead bird in the garden, noah, that's got to be some kind of omen, oh my god, what if you die? why would you just die, noah?"
so he cleans up the dead bird
but now you're mad because you're worried about him abandoning you
"baby, if I was gonna' abandon you then why would I have married you, huh?"
and it takes him a hot minute to get used to that too
however, he also learns how to direct it at other people for his own amusement
"hey, baby, did you know that stiles wears socks to bed, even in the summer?"
"you wear socks to sleep in the summer? you're sick, stiles. you're sick. I don't want you near my child, you're weird, you and your socks and your sweaty toes can stay away. you're so gross."
"what the fuck?"
and noah just laughing his ass off about it
you also have to pee a lot more so noah has to take that into account
you're still fully able to go hiking and do the things the two of you love doing
but he has to plan in your pee breaks
not to mention, you're still throwing up every morning
so, he can't plan too much, but he does plan a little weekend getaway for you both
with a privately rented cabin so that you can throw up each morning in peace and don't feel like you're being watched
panicking when you get spotting at week 8
and that really throws you both through a loop
rushing to the hospital and he's unfamiliar with driving your car
so it stresses him out to know he's useless in emergencies
it turns out to be nothing
but noah is pretty sure he's never cried that hard
not to mention, in a public bathroom, just so he didn't scare you
and when he gets home, like, fuck, it's a reality check for him
he starts getting driving lessons
he has a license and all but he's rusty
and he wants to be prepared, so he starts taking lessons
he also starts checking out bigger cars for the two of you
because your little car won't do in a few years
"you know, not that I'm complaining, but I've noticed you aren't wearing bras anymore."
watching your cheeks go fucking warm as you get all embarrassed
"do you wanna go shopping, get some comfier ones?"
"you are gonna go pregnancy bra shopping with me?"
"well, considering how proud I am when I get to go regular bra shopping with you, I think pregnancy bra shopping is the same."
going with you to get tests and scans done
literally crying again when you hear the heartbeat
"we made that, oh my god."
texting everyone he knows when you get your due date estimate
holding your hands when you have to get your pregnancy vaccinations
actually taking notes when the midwife starts talking about making a birthing plan and getting things sorted before you get to the third trimester
and he does a lot of research on birthing plans and starts prepping
going on every shopping trip with you
"I want to get the nursery painted, like, a while before the baby comes. so we can air it out for fumes."
"we can go check samples out this weekend."
"well, I mean, that's soon, like, really?"
"yeah, whatever you want, sunshine."
getting laid again
and when the morning sickness goes away, he starts getting his late morning sleep back
starting to get self-conscious about extra pregnancy weight gain
and noah doing everything he can to reassure you
but as you get into the second trimester, your sex drive suddenly jumps back up
and he fucking loves it
because that's a lot of unprotected sex and a lot of making out and a lot of touching
and honestly, something about it is really turning him on
"baby, I don't know if it's your glow or the fact that I am literally so in love with you, or maybe the months of not having sex, but I've literally never been this hard."
"shut up and fuck me, you can compliment me later."
"'kay."
throughout your second trimester, you get everything done
the nursery gets decorated and the furniture is built and it's perfect
there's only the little touches now, like mobiles and clothes and such
he also bought the new car, and traded yours in
and he arranged for you to get lessons in it too, so you know how to drive a bigger car before you get too pregnant to drive safely
crying the first time the baby moves. so much fucking crying.
and getting so excited every time
it's few and far between in the middle of your second trimester, but it's so meaningful
starting to go to pregnancy classes
and he also signs you both up for a pregnancy exercise class
that is supposedly meant to make labour easier because of the pelvic floor exercises
having a few days where you're nervous around him
thinking he did something wrong
"I think I'm gonna want to take an epidural."
"that's what you've been so worried about?"
"well, yeah. I read all these pamphlets about how it's so controversial and sometimes the dads don't like it, an-"
"I want you to be happy, okay? it's gonna be a happy time, so whatever you want, we'll do, okay? I want you to smile when you look back on the birth of our baby."
"I love you, so damn much."
"I love you so damn much."
finding out the sex of the baby, neither of you wants to wait
telling everyone it's a secret until the baby shower
your bump really starting to come in at the end of the second trimester
as well as headaches and backaches and stretch marks
and noah always making sure to kiss it better
a lot of nice warm baths and washing your hair for you
the baby starts responding to touch and sound, though
noah starts talking to the baby a lot
telling them about your day and rubbing lotion on your stomach
the baby getting hiccups for the first time
in the beginning of the second trimester, you start choosing names
more tears when you settle on a name
the third trimester is where you really start feeling it
you’ve got mood swings, you’ve got backache, and you’re getting a lot of odd cravings
all of which noah indulges for you
some make him gag and he actually cannot watch you eat it
banning food in bed
it caused an argument but he won that one
announcing the gender at your baby shower
you and noah dressing in white while waiting for everyone’s guesses
it’s a girl!
you announced it via a little cake cutting ceremony that was pink inside
using those last few weeks to decorate the nursery with teddies and buy clothes
when you finally go into labour it’s actually while you’re hanging out with stiles and derek
thinking it’s just cramps for a while
because you’ve been having cramps, you think it’s fine
until
“uh, (Y/N), you know I love you, but did you pee on my couch?”
“excuse me, I did not pee on your couch an- oh my god, they’re contractions.”
noah literally choking on his drink
you rubbing his back as he tries to cough it up
panicking so much that his whole fucking birthing plan goes out of the window
“the bag is at home!”
“what about your pillow?”
“fuck! fuck! fuck!”
derek is the only calm one because stiles is;
“HOLY FUCK, IM GONNA BE AN UNCLE, GIMME A NEICE!”
and noah is 
“HOLY FUCK, IM GONNA BE A FATHER!”
so derek coordinates it all while you just kinda sit there and watch it all
“okay, well, her contractions are now, like, eight minutes apart, so maybe we should get a move on.”
telling stiles to take you to the hopsital while he takes noah to pick everything up
and off you go
stiles is fucking buzzing the whole way there
calling your hospital to inform them you’re on your way
getting to the hospital and being greeted by your midwife
“lovely to see you again, mom and dad”
“I DIDN’T MAKE THAT.”
“thanks, stiles.” your midwife being confused. “this is the uncle, they’re twins. dad is on his way.”
“I’M THE UNCLE!”
“stop shouting stiles, the baby won’t come out, you’re scaring it back up.”
“sorry.”
stiles holding your hand
noah arriving five minutes later with more than enough stuff
“I didn’t know which pjs you’d want after so I brought options!”
after a good few hours of labour, and noah being there for all of it, your baby is born
literally crashing right after and sleeping for a while
“‘bout fuckin time you woke up, noah won’t let me see my niece ‘til you have. hurry up.”
“I will punch you so hard you’ll be glad you’re in a hospital.”
“that’s my wife”
“sorry.”
meeting your daughter with noah, and having a moment
because he’s put her in a little pink striped onesie and she’s got a baby beanie on
“she’s got your nose.”
“you can’t tell that, she’s like six hours old.”
“i can hope.”
finally taking her to meet stiles who practically dies on the spot
he cries a lot when he finally gets to hold his niece
“stiles, derek, meet ‘hope claudia stilinski’.”
46 notes · View notes
lesbianlotties · 3 years
Link
Comfort Food - Dani/Grace - Terminator: Dark Fate
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Terminator (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Grace Harper/Dani Ramos Characters: Dani Ramos, Grace Harper, Sarah Connor, Carl (Terminator) Additional Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Post-Canon, Missing Scene, McDonald's, Fast Food, Comfort Food, Fluff, basically grace survives and they stop by mcdonalds after they escape Words: 2870
The Rev-9 is destroyed. The four of them are barely alive after the fight. The first thing they need is to find a safe place to go.
That's when they step into McDonald's.
Sarah didn’t have time to say it, and she couldn’t exactly remember where she heard it first, but there was something oddly comforting about McDonald’s. That’s not to say she loved the place. A most likely despicable company, sure. But it was just so goddamned… big. It was available in most of the globe, and in every stupid country Sarah found herself in she could turn a corner and there it was, like a fucking mirage. The ridiculous “M”, the lights, the colors, the food, and the bathroom too. They were all mostly the same everywhere. The most childish spot for feeling like stepping into a sort of time loop. Somehow the most appropriate place to stop by after destroying the Rev-9.
The four of them were in various degrees of falling apart, some of them quite literally. “Wait here,” Sarah instructed Carl, not any more gently even after everything. He diligently hung back at the door, missing arm and all, while the three women entered the fast-food restaurant. “You two, sit,” Sarah pointed at one of the tables and confidently walked to the register. Dani and Grace hesitated at the door, but eventually gave in and followed the instructions.
Their little group probably looked beyond suspicious and out of place. They walked a long way until they found this place, and they were still covered in blood, dirt, and ashes. At least Dani’s long hair was the only thing still dripping water. Surprisingly, the employees of McDonald’s barely bat an eyelash at the new clients. It fascinated and worried Grace to think they weren’t the strangest thing these people had seen walk into the establishment in the middle of the night. Thankfully, there weren’t any other patrons.
“Are you alright?” Dani asked, as soon as the two were comfortably seated in one of the booths.
“Hm. Yeah, I think so,” Grace mumbled. She lowered her head, realizing Dani had noticed the way she had ungracefully fallen onto her seat, wincing and bleeding. “What about you?”
“Well, I’m alive.”
Dani’s answer came in a whisper. Her voice was trembling just slightly. This still wasn’t the time and place to think about the events that lead her here. However, this place, the bright lights above her, the clean floors, the smell of food, it was enough of a taste at normalcy to make her feel like she could take a break, like chaos was solved and she had made it out alive, for now. Which was enough, surprisingly. The best part? Seeing the moment that the words she just spoke fully registered in Grace’s mind as well. 
Dani had survived. The Rev-9 didn’t make it through the second explosion they had pushed it into. It was definitely gone. More and possibly worse problems could be waiting for them. But, for now, all that mattered was this, Dani’s little smile from the other side of the table. Dani was alive and Grace had completed her mission, “You know,” Grace started to speak, “I didn’t think…”
“Dig in,” Sarah interrupted them, dropping two trays of food on the table and sitting down beside Dani.
The following seconds were a quick flash of very different approaches to their meals from the three women. Sarah didn’t waste a second to get started on her burger. They needed food to stay alive, they had a chance to eat a warm meal, no time to waste. Dani, on the other hand, took a deep breath then turned her head away from the food. How could they eat after everything that just happened? Her stomach churned just thinking of all the violence she’d had to stomach since the previous days. Then there was Grace. For a second, she frowned at the food. Offended about the interruption, about the way it seemed to upset Dani, and… and then there was the smell of the fries. She took a handful of them, slowly chewed them, and then there was no turning back. She got started on her meal as if her life- as if Dani’s life depended on her eating that burger.
“Let’s get to the point,” Sarah announced after a few bites and a long sip of her drink. “Grace. The terminator was a hundred percent dead, correct?” Her question was met with silence and thumbs up, considering the augment soldier was halfway done with her burger. “And you? Will you live?” She ignored the look Dani her sent her way. Sarah was used to being blunt in worse scenarios, she wasn’t about to change things now. If anything, change within her was barely noticeable. But there was just something uncharacteristically earnest in her tone as she made her question. She cared about the answer, more than she was ready to admit.
They had to wait until Grace was done chewing, but finally, she got her appetite to slow down for a moment enough to give an answer. “There was a lot of damage,” she said, quickly scanning through the systems in her body, a series of unsatisfactory percentages showing up in her vision, but nothing too alarming. “Nothing I can’t fix,” Grace stated with finally, diving right back into her food. This would hold her up for a short while, but she would need to raid a pharmacy soon.
“Good,” Sarah nodded. After a few more moments of eating in silence, she turned toward Dani. “What about you? How, uh, how’re you holding up?”
Dani, almost without noticing, had started to slowly go through her set of fries. Eating them slowly, enjoying the warmth and the distraction. However, instead of answering, she ended up blurting out the first thing on her mind. “How are you so calm right now?”
“It isn’t my first rodeo. Hell, it isn’t even the second time I go through this shit,” Sarah replied, finishing her meal. “No time to dwell on it. We have to move to safety. Plus, we got that monster as a bodyguard waiting outside.” She nodded her head to the window, where they could glance at Carl, calmly waiting outside for them. Dani almost made a comment about Sarah forgetting her promise to destroy him if they managed to survive, but she decided against it. “I’m going to the bathroom,” Sarah continued, “you two finish up, get cleaned up. I’ll get us a phone and a vehicle. Then we need a pharmacy and a safe house. Don’t take too long.”
A moment later, she was done. Up and moving again. Dani was thinking about how much she would have to learn from Sarah, how much she would like to learn from her. Grace was thinking… “Dani,” she whispered, “Do you think I could get another one of these?”
“You can have mine,” Dani chuckled. She pushed the burger toward Grace. After taking notice of Grace’s frown and already knowing that was a sign for an upcoming speech about her protection and importance, she added, “Please, Grace. I can’t stomach it right now.”
Grace was reassured by the fact that Dani at least was steadily eating her fries. Encouraged by her deep hunger, she accepted the burger. “Thank you,” she smiled. After taking the first bite she made a sound of appreciation. If her attention wasn’t all taken by Dani and her meal, she would have attempted to think about how profundly human she felt. It was a comfort to eat this incredibly ordinary food and pretend everything was perfectly normal about her, her life, and the world around her.
“What were you going to say,” Dani asked her without preamble, “before the food arrived?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Grace shook her head softly.
It wasn’t convincing in the slightest. Even less so to Dani, whose stubbornness could easily match Sarah’s and Grace’s. But then again, there was something mesmerizing, comforting, but also so simple and easy about watching Grace have the time of her life eating ridiculous McDonald’s food. It rendered Dani speechless. It got her thinking a little. About the way Grace had gone through so many years without these simple pleasures. About the way Grace’s body worked differently, but the bigger part of her was always so endearingly human. About Grace in general, fascinating even under the worst conditions. Done with what little food she could tolerate and soothed by the space and the company around her, Dani allowed herself to close her eyes for just one moment…
“Dani… Dani?”
Grace’s voice eased her out of that unlikely sleep she had fallen into. The soldier sounded concerned enough to still sound like Grace. But it was undeniable the hint of amusement and fondness in her tone. Was she used to waking up her Commander from accidental naps like that? Was that a spark of jealousy that Dani was feeling for her own self of the future?
“Sorry,” she attempted an awkward laugh. “Let’s stop by the bathroom. We don’t want Sarah causing a scene because we’re taking too long.”
“Take your time,” Grace said. Her words were soft, her frown was unforgiving. The fondness between her and Sarah was reciprocated, but still complicated. Grace wouldn’t hesitate to stand her ground against anyone that tried to disturb Dani’s brief moments of peace.
The bathroom was another unlikely little piece of heaven. It was clean, empty, functional, quiet. Most importantly, it looked like Sarah had acquired a first aid kit from the employees and left it behind for the two of them. What followed was a slow and steady process of dealing with the most pressing issues both of them had. First, a visit to the toilet, sure. Then, washing faces, hands, and arms. Grace wet her hair, and was almost completely unaware of Dani's appreciative stares at the whole process. They didn’t have a lot to work with, and there were a lot of bandages and healing in their near future. But, at the very least, they had a small bottle of alcohol, and they did what they could with it.
Cut clean and bodies slightly refreshed, Dani had time to openly stare at Grace. “You’re incredible,” she sighed. She hadn’t meant to just blurt it out, but at the same time she couldn’t figure out a reason not to. Grace turned to look at her with genuine wonder in her eyes. “It already looks better,” Dani added, pointing at the wound on Grace’s neck. Back at the dam, it had looked beyond deadly. It would have been, to anyone who wasn’t an augmented soldier, apparently. Now the wound appeared to be closed, at least. Though there was still a long road of healing ahead.
“See? I still got it,” Grace replied. Technically, the smile she wore at that moment was small. But it was so… new, to Dani, that she found it to be the brightest most beautiful thing in the world. For a moment she felt like the luckiest person on Earth knowing that now she would have time to really get to know Grace, her sense of humor, her personality beyond being a soldier, all of her. She didn’t even have time to think about all the upcoming smiles from Grace that would soon come to lovingly blind her. For an instant, Dani opened her mouth to reply, but then she closed it and turned away to stare at the mirror again. “What?” Grace gently prompted her.
Dani took a deep breath, and started washing her hands again, quite unnecessarily too, but it was better than staring at the other woman as she said, “It’s just that… not running for our lives? Looks good on you.”
Grace stayed silent. She took her time processing the information. The look on her face was complicated. A small arch in her eyebrows showed she was at least a little impressed by the compliment. Then there was that absolutely gorgeous pair of expressive blue eyes. They were delighted, caught off guard, for sure, and very appreciative for Dani’s matching ease, the first time she saw her relaxed and awake since they met. But there was an unmistakable hint of grief, nostalgia for something impossible to recover, even if what was in front of her was just as good.
Dani took the opportunity to ask something that she hasn’t been able to shake off her mind. “What were you going to say,” she slowly asked Grace a second time, “before the food arrived?”
The expression on Grace’s face instantly dimmed, but she didn’t look too bothered about it either. “I just didn’t think I would survive this far,” she gave a small shrug, “that’s all.”
That’s all, she said. As if that wasn’t a pretty significant thing, Dani thought. “I can’t imagine,” Dani frowned and spoke in whispers, while Grace tilted her head and listened intently. “I can’t imagine… ever, you know, being the person that gives the order to send you, Grace, in a suicide mission.”
“It’s not like that,” Grace shook her head softly. She was leaning against the sink, staring at Dani with all the devotion she couldn’t seem to shake off her eyes whenever they locked eyes. “I volunteered,” Grace said, “I, you and I, we both knew I’d be the best one to protect you.”
“Why is that?” Dani asked, considerably more breathless than she meant to. Then she took a hesitant step forward, and nearly started shaking when Grace mimicked her move.
“Can’t you tell?”
In the back of her mind, Dani was thinking about how she could probably spend the rest of her life analyzing that question, and the way Grace said those three words. She was genuinely asking, she was hopeful, she was afraid, she was sad, she was… She was placing a hand on Dani’s cheek. Grace was cradling Dani’s jaw with a delicacy and gentleness that most likely shouldn’t be possible in a soldier like her, wounded, traumatized, transformed, and scarred. But Dani felt like the two of them were standing on top of a cloud, leaning forward, looking up into crystal clear blue eyes…
“A car is here,” Grace announced, sharply turning her head to the right and schooling her expression back into deadly professionalism.
“Righ,” Dani exhaled a heavy sigh, took an extra moment to recover herself, and added, “Let’s go.” Then, without allowing herself to think too hard about it, grabbed Grace’s hand and led her outside. She didn’t look back to see Grace’s reaction to her taking the lead like that, but she could have made a pretty good guess.
Outside McDonald’s, they met Carl. The retired Terminator looked at them with his familiar but stoic stare and said, “I hope your meals were satisfactory.”
“Yeah,” Dani nodded, “Thanks.”
“Is that safe?” Grace asked, nodding toward the car parking a few feet away from them.
“Stay put,” Sarah ordered as an answer.
Carl couldn’t help but take a couple of steps forward, to be closer to the stranger, to protect Sarah if necessary and possibly even against her will.
Hearing Sarah’s curt response, mutual fondness or not, Grace nearly groaned out loud in annoyance. She did tighten her hold on Dani’s hand. Which brought to Dani’s attention the fact that their fingers were still comfortably interlocked and how natural it felt to just continue to hold on.
“Hey, Grace,” she said softly, tugging a little on the hand she was holding.
With her attention back on Dani, Grace instantly relaxed. Irritation vanished from her face, and the pressure of her hand loosened a little too. “Yes?” she asked. Looking at her with that same exact spark of adoration from before. 
“Can I kiss you now?”
First, Grace just smiled at her. It was an honest grin. She genuinely looked elated. Not at all like she had expected this outcome based on experiences from a future that hadn’t happened. She looked overjoyed and relieved as if she was experiencing the completion of a dream she’d had her entire life. 
“Of course,” Grace replied, in the middle of taking a deep breath and exhaling a soft sigh.
Grace stepped closer, Dani placed a hand on the back of her neck, they met in the middle. At first, it felt like a spark, an explosion of all the action, the adrenaline, the terror, and the thrills they had experienced during nearly every second since they met. Then, the feeling melted into a slow and steady flame, it was comfort, relief, triumph, safety. It was an action of complete love, and hope, and the promise of a future together.
A moment of such levels of perfection, of course, could only be interrupted by the loud and tremendously inopportune sound of a car horn.
“Let’s go, lovebirds!” Sarah yelled from the window of the driver’s seat. She sounded like her usual self, even if she couldn’t hold back her smirk.
“Please,” Carl added, “excuse her for the interruption. Would you like to have an additional moment of privacy?”
“No, Carl, uh, thanks,” Dani replied, a giggle stuck in her throat. “We’re, um, we’re good. Yeah. Let’s… let’s go.” She could hardly keep her composure, not with Grace standing behind her, arm wrapped around her middle and holding her close, her lips smiling and pressing a kiss on the top of her head.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years
Text
SWAT Guy (Part 4)
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(gif by @supernatural-jackles​)
Summary: Dean and Sam have a setback in their case and decide getting drunk is the best course of action. The boys end up sharing some of their darker memories with one another but it might be exactly what they need to crack the case...
Masterlist
Pairing: SWAT officer!Dean x reader
Square: In Vino Veritas
Word Count: 1,400ish
Warnings: language, smidge of angst
A/N: For the purposes of this story, Sam is the reader’s brother. This was written for @supernatural-jackles​​ Tell Me A Story Bingo. Enjoy!…
_______
“Hey guys,” you said. They both grunted from the couch as you put the pizza box and other bag on top of the counter. “How was work? Any news in the case?”
“Not yet,” said Dean, Sam knocking back his drink. You caught the empty bottle of bourbon on the counter while you washed up, knowing for a fact it was half full the night before.
“Are you guys drunk?” you asked. 
“Yup,” said Sam, leaning his head back over the edge of the couch. He giggled and Dean started to laugh. You rolled your eyes and got out a few pieces of pizza and fries for them, putting them on plates and carrying them over. 
“May I ask why you two are drunk?” you asked while you fixed up your own plate.
“A bunch of shit went missing from the arsenal today,” said Dean. “They had the balls to drill under the building in the middle of last night.”
“Zero leads,” said Sam, taking a big bite.
“Something bad is going down. Real bad. Like stay the fuck home the next few days,” said Dean. Sam hummed around his food and you took a seat next to Dean. “It’s gonna be a fucking shit show when it goes down.”
“You guys are trained for that kind of thing,” said Sam, making a mess on his shirt as he scarfed down his food.
“They have our equipment. People could die,” said Dean. 
“Yeah but you gotta try still,” said Sam, eating four fries at once. “I mean I got PTSD from that guy and I still go catch murderers every day.”
Dean’s head snapped in your direction and you slumped down.
“You have PTSD?” asked Dean. 
“Yeah, he does,” you said quietly.
“Guy broke in our house when we were teenagers. Killed our parents. Almost got us too,” said Sam before he burped.
“Your parents were murdered?” said Dean. You nodded and took a small bite of pizza. “I’m sorry. Did they catch the guy?”
“It was a long time ago. Eventually yeah. He got life, no parole. I didn’t see or hear anything really. Sam came in my room and put me on his back and hopped out the window with me and ran us to a neighbors house. He’s the one that…”
“Saw it?” said Dean. Sam nodded and reached for his empty glass. “Yeah. I’ve seen my fair share of fucked up shit too.”
“I was so fucking jealous when you transferred to us,” said Sam with a laugh. “I heard about Denver. You go through that and here you come in all normal and cool and happy and I’m the one still going to therapy for something that happened nearly fifteen years ago.”
“The grass ain’t any greener over here,” said Dean. He was looking far more sober than Sam, one of his arms curling around your waist. “We can’t save everyone Sam. You were a kid. You saved the one you could and that is all we can do.”
“Did you really lose your family in Denver?” asked Sam. You knew Dean’s family had died suddenly a few years ago but he’d only ever implied it was an accident, nothing more.
“It was my mom’s birthday. Everyone was staying the night at the old house. My father was working on a case with the mafia. It was a pretty bad night.”
“How’d you…” you said, Dean smiling softly at you.
“Luck. I spent a month in the ICU. I have nightmares from work, don’t get me wrong. But mostly they’re about that night,” he said. He got up and took Sam’s glass away, replacing it with a bottle of water. “Next time we get drunk, it’s cause we caught this son of a bitch, not a pity party. Got me Sammy?”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“No, I’m not. But she’s my girl which makes you my boy and I was a Hell of a big brother if I don’t say so myself. So. Let’s eat, sober up, and tomorrow let’s try to catch these guys. Alright?”
Sam ripped off a chunk of his pizza and hummed. Dean sat down beside you and you rested your head on his shoulder.
“Eat your dinner, baby,” you said quietly. “We’ll talk later.”
“I’m sorry,” you said in bed that night after Dean told you about what had happened in Denver. “It sounds like a horror movie.”
“It was. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone,” he said as you had your arms wrapped around his back. He had himself tucked into you, his head under your chin. “But I’ve felt more like my old self the past few months. Met this sweet girl, makes me feel better.”
“I love you.” He turned his head up, smiling at you.
“You love me? Why?”
“You make me happy and I care about you. I wish you were as happy as you make me feel.”
“I was low before you. I hid it was all. But you do make me happy. You and Sam. I feel like I have a family again maybe,” he said.
“You do,” you said, kissing him slowly, lingering your lips together. “I got you tonight and every other night. I promise.”
“Good morning,” you yawned, both boys working at the kitchen table with their laptops. You gave Dean a kiss on the cheek and ruffled his hair before resting your chin on top of his head. “You had no nightmares.”
“Nope,” said Dean with a smile. You peered down at his screen, Sam sipping on a cup of coffee. “How’s it going over there?”
“I think you’re onto something with that theory of yours.”
“What’s the theory?” you asked.
“Well,” said Dean, encouraging you to take a seat on his lap. “I was thinking, most crap in that room you can get on the black market. But then it hit me, it wasn’t about them getting it.”
“It was making sure the cops didn't have it. Whatever they’re doing is going down today and would require SWAT to use that specific equipment they stole,” said Sam. You hummed and Sam turned around his laptop. “You know more about this stuff than me-“
“You’re a better investigator than I am,” said Dean, taking hold of Sam’s laptop. His eyes flickered over top of the screen and he smiled.
“You think that’s it?” asked Sam.
“I think we got it Sammy boy.”
One Month Later
“Well don’t you two look all cute with your awards,” you said. Sam rolled his eyes but Dean took it as an opportunity to gave you a big fat kiss.
“I am literally right here,” said Sam.
“That ain’t my problem,” said Dean. Sam smacked in him the back of the head after you’d broken apart and Dean flicked his ear back.
“Boys,” you said as the chief of the station walked over.
“Enjoying your party boys?” he asked.
“Yes sir,” they both responded, a small smile crossing the chief’s lips.
“Maybe this will be a reminder that working across departments can be a good thing going forward. I’d like you two to head up any joint task force efforts that may fall under either of your purviews,” he said, both boys nodding. “Enjoy yourselves.”
“Well,” said Dean after the chief had walked away. “I say we get Sammy a girl tonight to celebrate.”
“Yes!”
“No!” groaned Sam.
“Little hottie from the press office in the green dress over there has not been shy about eyeing you up and down,” said Dean. Sam spun his head around and rolled his eyes. 
“That’s just Eileen guys. We’re friends.”
“Eileen! Sam wants to dance!” you called across the way as you pushed Sam over towards her.
“I’m gonna kill you!” muttered Sam, all smiles by the time Eileen was there.
“This is why I love you,” said Dean, kissing your temple and reaching behind you, trying to steal the last jalapeno popper off your plate. 
“Thief,” you said, picking it up. You held it up to his mouth and he took a big bite, grinning after he’d swallowed. “You know...I know we said you’d move back home when this all settled down but we could...you know.”
“I think I’m sticking around home for a while if that’s alright with you,” said Dean. You grinned and he rested his head on your shoulder. “I kinda got this no nightmare streak going lately and I’d hate to mess with that.”
“More than alright with me, babe,” you said as you kissed the top of his head. “More than alright.”
___________
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chaseatinydream · 4 years
Text
pirate king (14) || atz
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Sweat drips from your forehead as you swing the wooden practice cutlass on deck in the same repeated actions Jongho and Yunho have drilled into you.
Left parry, right jab. Overhead swing, side slash. Dodge. Repeat.
Practicing is numb, mindless work. Honestly, you really hate it sometimes, but right now you’re ever so grateful for it. You take the time to organise your mind, your thoughts.
What do you do now?
Jongho, Seonghwa and San now know of your identity as a woman, and what you have learnt ever since your awakening. San is going to tell Yeosang about what the fortune teller had told you yesterday, and you may finally get some answers.
But something lingers on the edges of your conscience.
The sea witch.
The one who Seonghwa warned bargains with the mythical, the bridge between the supernatural and the mortal. And from the looks on San and Seonghwa’s faces, she didn’t sound like a person you’d want to meet.
Underhand swipe, stab.
“I am unworthy of looking upon her face, the one who you have made a deal with, the sea witch!”
Sidestep, lunge.
A deal.
You hunch over on your knees, panting as you take a break for a moment. The sky is still a dark indigo, the stars splattered across the deep purple canvas fading ever so slowly in preparation for the sun to take over their role.
“-a being of immense power that lives on an island that only people in great desperation can find-”
What had you been so desperate for as to turn to the supernatural? What could possibly be worth making a deal with the sea witch?
What had you gained?
You grip your sword tight once more, hate for all the hardships and agony your past self has put you through welling up inside of you.
You had woken up with absolutely nothing. You were completely alone.
Jab, slash.
What exactly had you given up?
Duck, stab.
Why did the fortune teller ask who had made you?
Wetness falls down your cheeks, but you don’t know whether it’s sweat or tears. Something about the word terrifies you. Why made? Why not ‘gave birth’? The way the fortune teller had spoken of you as if you are a piece of craft, not a human…
Why did she call the sea witch your mistress?
You toss the sword to the ground, panting from the exertion and the wild thoughts running through your head.
Did you sacrifice your memories?
“Hey, stowaway!”
You jump at the cheerful greeting, desperately wiping tears from your eyes that you hadn’t known were there.
“Yunho-hyung.” You internally curse the way your voice sounds like you’ve just swallowed a bucket of tar as the tall battlemaster makes his way across to you, his footsteps echoing abnormally loudly on the empty deck.
His hands are tucked into his pockets and his cheeks are apple red from the cold night air. Still, his grin is just as bright as it always is, and he stops next to you.
“Why are you up so early, stowaway?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” You mumble back, shivering slightly. The sweat on your skin has started to evaporate, leaving a chill on your arms and neck. Yunho studies the cutlass on the ground, your puffy, bloodshot eyes and the downcast look on your face.
You open your mouth to explain, to come up with some stupid excuse, but Yunho merely smiles.
“Have you been in the crow’s nest before?”
“What?” You’re caught by surprise by this question, not something you’d have expected to leave his mouth. The lookout merely continues smiling at you, waiting for an answer patiently. “Well, no.”
“That’s good.” Yunho grins at you charmingly. When you frown at him, a little confused, he explains. “That means I’m gonna be the first one to bring you up there.”
Gesturing for you to leave your sword where it is, he takes you by the wrist, long fingers encircling yours completely, leading you to the foremast. Yunho then places your hands against the coarse, thick ropes of the rigging, gently closing your fingers around them.
“Are you scared of heights?”
“Not really.” You reply honestly, but you are a little worried that you might fall like the clumsy fool that you are. You crane your head back, looking upwards.
The crow’s nest is pretty high up.
“Are you afraid of heights, Yunho-hyung?” You ask. The lookout laughs, clearly amused at your silly question and motions for you to climb.
“I am a lookout, you know. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to catch you if you fall.”
You stare at him nervously, placing a foot on the rigging. “But I had three pastries yesterday. And another chicken drumlet. And some of that pie Seonghwa-hyung baked before I left. And-”
Yunho waves your protests off cheerfully. “No worries, just trust me!”
Just trust me.
Turning back to the rigging, you suck in a breath and begin to climb. You’ve never worked around the rigging and masts like you’ve seen Yunho and Wooyoung do so often, instead staying closer to the deck like San and Seonghwa. The two are in the rigging so often, spending more time among the ropes than on deck, laughing and chatting away.
For a moment, you feel like you’re intruding on their space.
The climb upwards is a little tricky as the rope twists and flexes beneath you, but you’re determined to make it all the way to the top by yourself. Straining with the effort, you finally drag yourself feebly over the lip of the crow’s nest and flop into it, sweat dripping from you every orifice.
“That was a good first try!” Yunho cheers as his mop of brown hair appears at the railing merely seconds after you’ve crawled in. You stare at him in disbelief from below.
“I thought you said you were going to catch me if I fell!”
Yunho cocks his head at you curiously as he perches on the railing precariously, an inch or so from a bad fall back to the main deck. “I was! I only started climbing after you reached the top.”
Your jaw smashes into the ground.
Yunho gives you an easy grin, patting your head in encouragement. Really, what is with all your crew members liking to pat you on the head? You’re about to ask him why when he looks away from you, admiring the horizon with a smile.
“So, why the long face?”
At his question, you jerk a little in shock. He seems to be a lot more observational than you have given him credit for.
“I am the lookout, after all.”
You gulp.
“And yes, you said that out loud.”
“Sorry!” You squeak, but Yunho doesn’t take any offence at your words. Instead, he merely grins at you with a cheeky, boyish smile.
“How about you tell me why you had such a long face as apology, then?”
You puff out your cheeks. You feel like Yunho has just tricked you into coming up here to make you spill the beans about all of your deepest, darkest secrets, but of course you can’t tell him that you’re worried about what the fortune teller has told you. As much as you trust the members of the ship, you don’t know how they’d react if you blurted to all of them that you could hear the sea monster’s voice and that you were starting to get afraid of what the fortune teller had woven as your future.
So you try to keep things as vague as possible.
“Nothing much.” You attempt to play it off light, fiddling with the crystal at the end of your necklace as you close your eyes and lean back against the mast, trying to appear as calm as possible. “I was just thinking about my memories, you know. If I had a mother.” A dry laugh leaves your mouth as you think about the possibility of the sea witch being your mother. “Maybe I could have had parents waiting for me wherever my home is. Siblings, even.”
Yunho is silent for a while. Then he suddenly speaks up.
“Do you know what these are?” He points to the two silver rings braided into his hair. They’ve always just been there, from the very first day you’d met him down at the harbor of Raguza, so you’ve simply assumed that it is some kind of habit of his. Honestly, you haven’t given it much thought, so you shake your head.
“These are rings of victory.” Yunho says, his voice suddenly soft as he fingers the silver bands. You stare at them a little more closely. “I got one for my first victory... And the second one for my hundredth.”
There’s something delicate in the air, invisible but completely tangible. You don’t dare to raise your voice over a whisper.
“What victories?”
“Victories in the arena.” Yunho says the word ‘arena’ with so much bitterness, sadness, anguish that for a moment, you can almost feel his raw emotions washing over you like a tidal wave. “Before I joined the crew of the Treasure… I was a gladiator.”
You’re stunned into silence for a moment.
Yunho has always been so happy, so cheerful, so happy-go-lucky, a literal ray of sunshine. You can’t believe that he could have endured such torment and pain in the past.
“I see.” Is all that leaves your mouth, but there’s so much more you want to say.
“I had a brother. His name was Gunho.” Yunho looks lost in the past, fixated on a dream, far, far away. “He was nicer, kinder, gentler. Always the better one of the two of us.”
You want to argue with that, but he continues before you can say anything.
“We were both sold into slavery by our parents. All we had was each other. I remember the first time he stepped into the arena, he was so scared to the point he kept shaking in his boots. I volunteered to go in his place. That’s how I got this.”
You watch with bated breath as Yunho pulls the collar of his shirt down to reveal a long, ugly scar at his shoulder, dangerously close to where his jugular is, as San has taught you. If the blade had been a couple of inches to the left, Yunho wouldn’t be here with you right now.
And that scares you, for some reason you don’t want think about.
You don’t know what to say. Why is Yunho sharing with you all this, something so close to his heart?
“I did everything I could to keep him safe. It was silly, now that I think about it. He was always a better fighter than me.” Yunho muses to himself in silent mirth, shaking his head as he shrugs the shirt back over his shoulder. “But I was the older brother. I was supposed to take care of him.”
You don’t like where the sound of this is going.
“But he’s gone now.” Yunho’s smile is brittle, as if it might break if you so much as touch it. His voice is nothing above a wavering whisper. “Dead and gone. And I wasn’t even by his side when it happened.”
“Why?” You find yourself asking, even before you can run it by your mind. “What happened?”
Yunho closes his eyes for a moment, clearly fighting to keep his emotions at bay as they play out across his face. Then he speaks, his throat tight.
“A patron admired me for my skill and bought my freedom, but not my brother’s.” Yunho’s words are soft, but clear as water and you hang on to every word. “I joined the Treasure to earn enough to buy my brother’s freedom… but by the time I returned to my hometown, Gunho was dead.”
His voice cracks ever so slightly even though the smile never leaves his face.
“Did you know? My brother died from the same illness as Jongho’s mother did.” Yunho adds on quietly, lost in thought. A heavy, crushing feeling sinks like a stone in your chest and you feel something prick at the corner of your eyes. You blink the feeling away in surprise.
The two of you sit in silence for a moment, and you feel Yunho’s pain as if it’s your own. If you ever had family, like he had, and you’d lost them… The feeling is familiar to you, as if you’ve felt it before.
But something is different.
No… you didn’t lose him…
You left him behind.
Something bubbles in the back of your mind and your eyes fly wide with horror, you jerk upright to stare at Yunho. You try desperately to chase the thought, but when you shut your eyes, all you see is the same thing you always do.
White beach, the waves washing over your legs as you sit in the sand. Rain touching your face, storms at your feet.
Then nothing.
“Anyway, what I intended for you to hear is that there’s always a dawn, even to the darkest nights.” Yunho says quietly, his words gentle. “Even though I thought I’d lost it all when I found out about my brother’s death, I realised I gained a new family. You might have lost your memories, but at least you have us with you. You’re our family. You are someone to us.”
You are someone to us.
His hand closes around yours. You turn to look at him, eyes wet with emotion. He doesn’t face you, instead pointing at the horizon.
“Look.”
The sun is beginning to rise.
The pair of you sit in comfortable silence as the sun slowly emerges from behind the sea. The darkness of the sky flees as the rosy light chases it away, streaks of pink and orange painting the sky.
You don’t know how long you sit there till someone calls for you from below.
“Yunho-ah! Stowaway!” To your surprise, it’s Yeosang, but there’s something off about him. From up on the crow’s nest, you can see him fidgeting nervously hopping from foot to foot as he looks up at the two of you. He looks like he’s literally brimming with happiness.
“What is it, Yeosang-ah?” Yunho shouts back, your hand falling from his.
There’s a massive grin on the navigator’s face, even as he tries to fight it back.
“Captain wants to see us!”
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tuanyiems · 4 years
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Cookies and Cream
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Yugyeom x Reader (f) fluff x smut words: 4k plot: annoyed by some (really just one) of your gratuitous “self-care” rituals, he decides to teach you a little lesson about indulgence, established relationship!au warnings – dom!gyeom, oral (f receiving), fingering, teasing, overstimulation, praise kink, squirting a/n – sorry for the delay, coincidentally I also had to work overtime for work this week lol now if only I had Gyeom too…but in other news, got7 is coming back in 3.5 more hours!!!!!!!!! I’m so excited y’all!!! // part of Le Chocolatier drabble series, which you can find the masterlist for in my blog. feel free to read this as a one-shot or part of the series, in any order you want <3
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It’s 9PM on a Friday when you decide to turn off your work computer and call it quits. When you blink, the blue shadow of your screen still flickers behind your eyes and for the past two hours your right lid has been twitching every few minutes. When you stand up from your office chair, the world spins and you are briefly nauseated. You swallow down the feeling with a huff, throwing on your jacket and purse.
It’s quiet on your floor, everyone else having left already. It’s been like this the entire week ever since your project manager proposed a new venture and put you in charge of actually making it happen. Yugyeom tells you to just quit, but you figure it’s partially your fault too. You don’t know how to say no. 
So instead, you stop by the convenience store next door and buy yourself a couple of bath bombs. As an afterthought you throw in a box of Ferrero Rocher at checkout.
It’s another thirty minutes when you finally get home. Your whole body aches from being crouched at your desk. As you kick off your flats, Yugyeom greets you with a much too eager smile.
“Babe!” he exclaims, his black hair practically bouncing with every step towards you. “The boys are having game night tonight!”
You let out a yawn as you put your things down. “Sounds great, Gyeom, you go have fun.”
He let out a pout, “You don’t want to come with me?”
You answer with a tired smile and only grow even more weary when you see his infamous puppy dog eyes. “Gyeom,” you plead softly.
“I’ve barely seen you all week. Don’t you miss me?”
“Of course I missed you baby!” You pull him into your arms, nestling your face in his chest. You take a deep breath, his distinct warm bergamot tones filling your senses. You truly have missed him. Two years in and coming home to him every night still isn’t enough. Boy, are you in deep, huh?
“Then come with. Someone needs to put Bambam in his place. He bought a PC and suddenly thinks he’s a gamer,” you feel the rumble of his chest as he squeezes you closer.
And you feel your own resolve breaking the longer you stay in his arms, but when you blink, your eyes still sting from the strain of overuse and fatigue.
“But…I bought bath bombs.”
Yugyeom pulls away slightly and you offer up a weak smile. He knows you’ve been working hard this week. He assumed you would enjoy letting go and playing games for the rest of the night, so your rejection blindsides him. He was really looking forward to spending time with you and the guys. From above, he can see the bags under your eyes more clearly and you do look tired.
“Are you sure?” he offers up one final plea and you answer with a firm nod.
“Go and have fun for the both of us,” you assure, pulling away and heading towards your shared bedroom.
“Are you sure?” Yugyeom repeats, following after you like a shadow. “Want me to stay in with you?”
You chuckle, shaking your head as you pull out a pair of mismatched pajamas from your drawers. “Please, I don’t think I can handle all your energy right now.”
“Hey!”
“You are the love of my life,” You press a kiss to his frown and watch how easily the corner of his lips lift. “I love you, I love you, I love you, but please Gyeom, go out and have fun and I’ll enjoy myself at home and when you come back, I will welcome you into my arms and we can have the whole weekend together, just us. Okay?”
Seeing your exasperation, Yugyeom puckers his lips before breaking out into a boyish grin. “Oh alright! Go have fun with your bubble bath, I guess.”
“I will,” you press one last kiss to his lips before shooing him away.
It’s not long before you finally have the apartment to yourself. Humming, you slowly disrobe as you make your way to the minibar, breaking out a glass of wine. And just as you are about to sashay over to the bathroom, you pause and decide to take the whole bottle with you.
Impeccably timed, the water you left running is filled to the perfect level as you enter. Taking in a deep breath, you smile as you sip at your wine. The bath bomb you bought fizzes in the water, dispersing in the hot liquid in pastel purple and pinks, and fills the small room with the aroma of vanilla and lavender. For a convenience store bath bomb, it does its job perfectly, which is great because you honestly needed this one win for the week.
When you finally sink into the water, it feels like heaven on your aching muscles. For the first time in what feels like this entire week, you feel your shoulders untensing from the heat of the water.
You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. 
And you almost fall asleep right there before you remember the chocolates sitting at the edge of the tub. Picking up one of the golden orbs, you bite at the curve of your lips and admire the crinkled foil before your eyes shift furtively to the bathroom door like a thief. Despite being alone in the apartment, you can’t help feeling like a child up to no good.
Yugyeom has a, well, disliking towards convenience store chocolates. He believes they dishonor the art of chocolate making with their “sick capitalist greed” (even though he happens to own a chocolate store). As a result, you very rarely ever ate chocolates that were not made by Yugyeom, himself, which was great because who doesn’t love free, expensive chocolates? But sometimes, you missed the taste of other chocolates.
Especially, Ferrero Rocher. Back in high school, these were your “expensive” desserts. Almost every month, they were your go-to treat whenever you were nursing your period pains and hormonal mood swings. When you entered adulthood and your self-care treatments became more expensive, so did your taste in chocolates.
But now, here you are, savoring the chocolatey, nutty flavor of convenience store goodness on your tongue while your lover is away like a wife with a dirty secret. Your life has come full circle.
You giggle, hand already tearing the wrapper off another piece before the taste of the first is even fully gone. Man, did you miss this flavor. If you could have it your way, you’d put Nutella in everything! The hazelnut spread was like crack! You make a mental note to buy yourself a jar on your next grocery run. 
With the delicious taste of hazelnut glazed over your tongue, you sink back into the tub and watch mindlessly as the pastel water swirls around you. 
Suddenly, the door creaks open and a hand pops through with your pink bra hanging by the strap on a finger. Yugyeom pushes open the door, revealing his amused face.
“So eager to kick me out that you left a whole trail of your clothes on the floor?” 
You smile up at him before sinking your lips into the water.
“And here I was thinking you’d be so lonely by yourself,” he pouts, setting your bra on the sink counter and approaching you.
You sit up straighter, lifting your head fully out of the water, as he gets closer. “I left a trail so you could find me.”
“Too late for your lame excuses,” he chuckles, sitting at the edge of the tub. His eyes follow your movements as you hug your legs closer to your chest. Most of your makeup has washed off, though the ghost of your eyeliner still tints the ends of your eyes, and though your lipstick has rubbed off, the inside of your lip is awkwardly wine stained. The ends of your hair are wet by the water and the strands stick to your skin in clumps.
And you are so beautiful. Not because you look particularly different in this moment, but because you look so real. It makes him think back to when the two of you first started dating. You had been so nervous, waking up early to put on makeup before he could see you and wearing lingerie every time he slept over. Back then, you’d even refrained from your regular self-care routines because you had been so worried he would think you were too high maintenance. 
But now, he is blessed to have you here, completely bare to him, literally and figuratively. All curled up in the tub, smiling up at him without an ounce of fear—it makes his insides all gooey. You do that to him.
The guys had given him a hard time about leaving game night early, but now that he’s here, he’s sure he made the right choice. 
“Babe,” your soft whisper breaks him out of his reverie. Your eyes brighten when he meets your gaze. “Wanna join me?”
Yugyeom closes his eyes, tilting his head up, and lets out a loud exhale. “You are perfect.”
You giggle, nose scrunching, until you hear the sound of crunching plastic. You watch, in slow motion, as Yugyeom’s gaze drops to the floor and the both of you freeze.
You blink up, swallowing. The residue of chocolate suddenly tastes sour in your mouth.
“Is that…” The words get caught in Yugyeom’s throat. But his silence feels worse when he’s staring at you with wide, accusatory eyes.
“Gyeom, I-I can explain!” the words come jumbling out of you in a rush, your mouth suddenly dry.
“You…You…In our house, babe?” 
“All the stores were closed by the time I left work. I just-I just wanted a quick snack!”
You feel like drowning in your own guilt when Yugyeom looks at you so sadly.
“You could’ve asked me to bring you home chocolates. Unless,” he pauses and a frown forms on his face, “you didn’t want to?”
You hurry to stand in the tub, water splashing from the sudden movement, but you don’t care. You twine your wet, raisined fingers between his.
“Baby, I love your chocolates! They’re my favorite, you know that,” you squeeze his fingers, ignoring the cold air around your bare skin. 
“Do I?” he sulks, looking back at the half-eaten tray of Ferrero Rocher.
You sway to the side, angling your body so your eyes meet his again. “I went into the convenience store to buy bath bombs and grabbed these chocolates at checkout as an afterthought. If I knew I was going to crave chocolates when I saw it, I really would have called you. But it was already late at night and I didn’t want to bother you.”
Yugyeom sighs. “You don’t have to explain yourself. You’re allowed to eat and love whatever you want…but just so you know, you’re never bothering me. I will make you chocolates even if it’s the middle of the night and you’re on the other side of the world.”
“Gyeom,” you pout, endeared by his words even as he’s saying it with a frown on his face. You press your palm to his cheek, guiding his lips to yours. “I love your chocolates, and I love you.”
Finally, Yugyeom smiles and you meet his with your own. It’s not long before he’s edging his tongue through the seam of your lips, tangling in your mouth. It’s been too long since you’ve been able to taste him on your lips like this. The quick morning kiss goodbye could only keep you going for so long.
You’ve missed this so much. You’ve missed him. How long has it been since the two of you had sex? A week? No, ten days? For the both of you, that was like an eternity.
You can feel your hunger stirring against the pliant muscle of Yugyeom’s tongue. You forget to breathe as he sucks at the bottom of your lip until it is red and swollen. It’s not until your lungs feel like they are burning that the both of you break away with heaving breaths.
Yugyeom makes a face of disgust despite the shine of your saliva on his lips. “You taste like that stupid generic crap.”
He kicks at the tray of chocolates on the floor and you giggle.
“I don’t know, Gyeom, it seemed like you were enjoying the taste,” you tease, tongue poking slyly out the corner of your lips.
It’s then that he realizes your bare state and a smirk replaces his frown.
“You wanna have a self-care night, right? Let me teach you something about self-care.” Without another word, Yugyeom taps twice at your thigh and like a trained puppy, you jump for him. Clinging to his neck, you wrap your wet legs around his waist and let him carry you into your bedroom.
You let out a squeak of surprise when he tosses you roughly onto the mattress.
“If you want to indulge, I’ll give you something to indulge in,” Yugyeom grabs at the bottom of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head before flinging it across the room. You watch with hungry eyes as his hands move down to his jeans, veins protruding up his arms as he undoes his button. You can’t help the disappointment that fills you when he stops there.
His brows arch at your expression. “Only good girls get rewarded, baby.”
“I’ll be good for you,” you plead, crawling to the edge of the bed to meet him. He cups your face in his large hands sweetly.
“You promise?” You nod eagerly, making him scoff at your desperation. “Good girls don’t break their promises, so keep that in mind.”
“I promise,” you breathe out as Yugyeom trails his fingers down your cheek before grabbing you sharply by the chin.
“I don’t know, kitten, it seemed like earlier you didn’t even want me in the house. Feels like you didn’t miss me at all.” Your eyes flicker up to meet his gaze, brows arching with concern. He points his nose in the air haughtily, but if experience has taught you anything, there was definitely a hint of hurt in his words.
You touch your fingers to his wrist softly. “I missed you so much,” you utter softly. And contrary to the gentleness of your voice, your gaze is strong and sure. It’s only when Yugyeom’s lips twitch into the slightest of smiles that you relax into his touch again.
He pinches your chin between his thumb, forcing your head to tilt back further. His eyes returning to their dark, demanding gaze. “What exactly did you miss so much, kitten?”
“Everything—your touch, your taste, the way you make me feel wanted and loved and safe and warm,” your eyes glaze over, conflicted between giving into your lust or your love, and feeling it all jumbling inside your gut. Both your chest and your core aches for him and it’s so apparent in the way your body seems to melt into the grip of his hand. “I miss feeling you inside me. No one else can make me feel that good.”
“Oh, I’ll make you feel good tonight, kitten,” he smirks, releasing your chin. “Spread out for me baby.”
As soon as he utters the command, you are rushing to the pillows. With your head sinking into the silk pillowcase, you open your legs wide for Yugyeom to admire. And he admires, taking his sweet time to follow you onto the bed, eyes glued to the heavenly sight of your cunt just absolutely glistening with lust for him.
His mouth waters just looking at you spread out for him. “Pretty pussy, so wet for me already.”
He trails his hands slowly up your inner thighs and you are practically vibrating, careening for more of his touch. Yugyeom smirks as he stares at your pussy. Even in his peripheral vision, he can already tell you’re on edge. Brushing two fingers up your wet pussy lips, he spreads your folds apart with the V of his fingers.
Your shaky inhale is audible, much to Yugyeom’s satisfaction.
“So impatient, kitten,” he chuckles darkly, enjoying the way your cunt clenches around nothing. He lifts his fingers off of you and raises it to his mouth. He watches you closely before releasing a low moan at your taste on his tongue. When you bite your bottom lip and watch him quietly, Yugyeom releases his fingers with a pop and lifts his brow. “You’re really trying to keep your promise, aren’t you?”
You nod fervently, making him laugh.
“Then as I promised, good girls get rewarded,” he smiles, a shine in his eyes that promises mischief.
With that, Yugyeom presses his two fingers back between your legs and you release a loud sigh at the feeling of his fingers stretching your walls. The ache is delicious and you find yourself whining a little too loudly at just his two fingers alone. You’ve been so wound up this entire week, the sudden stretch of his two fingers is almost overwhelming. Already, your walls are quivering around his digits.
You feel your cheeks heat, eyes diverting from Yugyeom’s gaze to the ceiling. When you hear his dark chuckles, you know he’s noticed too. You’re already so close, it’s embarrassing. When Yugyeom curls his fingers into your soft, velvety flesh, a moan releases from your throat as you feel a fluttering straight in your core.
It feels too good too fast and soon you are whining, palms flying to cover your face as the knot in your core tightens.
“Gyeom, wait, I-”
“Aw, is kitten going to cum already?” Yugyeom coos sadistically, fingers curling faster against your walls. “What’s the rush baby? I haven’t even tasted you properly.”
“Please,” you whine, tensing at your abdomen in a sorry attempt to fight off your orgasm. 
“Missed me that much, baby?” he laughs, feeling your walls squeeze against his digits.
“Yes!” you admit, feeling the telltale signs of your cunt contracting, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Your back arches off the bed as your orgasm hits you, making your body quiver with pleasure. Heat spreads across your limbs as you ride out your high. 
Yugyeom’s fingers continue to stroke against your pulsing walls as he watches you cum on his fingers. His smirk grows when you open your eyes again, looking at him with surprise. Your hands come to his wrist.
“B-babe,” you stutter, body shaking from his continued ministrations. “It’s too much.”
“Shh,” he strokes his fingers softly against the swell of your walls while his other hand gently lifts your hand from his wrist. “You can do this, kitten. Be a good girl for me.”
You swallow, letting his fingers intertwine with yours as a thrill runs down your spine. Finally, you give a small nod, and he smiles at you with crescent eyes.
“That’s my girl,” he whispers encouragingly. “You’re so beautiful when you cum, baby. Show me how you cum, okay?”
You nod, squeezing his hand as he presses a third finger into your sopping hole. As soon as you’re stretched by his third finger, you can already feel your core tightening. Your heart races in your chest as Yugyeom curls his fingers into you faster, chasing the delicious high that is just tipping you at the very edge.
You let out a whimper, eyes squeezing as your walls tighten around him for the second time. His fingers dig into the perfect spot inside of you over and over until you are exploding with pleasure. All thoughts leave you as your mind fills with hot white pleasure.
As you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm, the fog slowly lifts from your mind and you are relieved to find Yugyeom’s fingers have stopped moving inside you.
“You did so great, baby,” he praises you and you feel yourself glowing from his words.
And then you feel his fingers move again.
“Gyeom,” you whine weakly.
He chuckles, pulling his fingers out of you. He smiles, coming up to press a kiss to your lips. 
“You’re amazing, baby,” he whispers against your lips. “I love seeing you cum around my fingers.”
You pout, running your fingers through his hair. “Only for you.”
You feel him smile against you before he moves to press a kiss to your forehead.
“You can do one more for me, kitten,” he murmurs, breath tickling the shell of your ear. It makes you shiver, and he can already feel you arching into him. “I missed your taste, baby.”
At those words, you groan. God, you missed his tongue on you.
“That’s a yes, isn’t it?” he chuckles, brushing his wet fingers between your folds. You whine, nodding. “Such a good girl. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”
“I know,” you exhale, already shivering from his touch. You watch him with hooded eyes as he smiles from your admittance.
Slowly, he makes his way back down your body, tickling your skin with butterfly kisses down your neck and sucking red bruises down the valley of your chest. Planting a sweet kiss to your mound, Yugyeom pulls away to blow air at your glistening folds, admiring the way you shiver at the sensation.
Finally, with eyes on you, he dips down and licks a stripe up your pussy. He smirks with satisfaction as your eyes flutter close. He taps your thigh, bringing your attention back to him.
“Eyes on me, kitten.”
You whimper, nodding, and you rise on your elbows, gaze fixed on him. Pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, Yugyeom gives you one last smile before pressing his lips around your clit. You suck in a breath as he laps at the bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue in intoxicating circles. His mouth feels so warm and soft around you, you can’t help the sigh of pleasure that escapes you.
“God,” you moan, feeling the tightening of your core once again.
Yugyeom answers you with the press of his fingers at your entrance again. You let out a loud moan, feeling your walls quiver at the familiar intrusion. Despite yourself, you find your body clenching around his digits. 
The room fills with your heavy panting and the loud squelch of his fingers thrusting into your sopping entrance. But you can barely hear anything, your brain buzzing from oversensitivity. It almost hurts, how good he makes you feel. When he groans around your clit, it sends vibrations straight to your tightening core.
“Gyeom!” you whine, eyes prickling with tears as he sucks harder.
Your legs shake out of control when he curls his fingers against your g-spot, sending you hurtling into another orgasm. A guttural wail of his name leaves your throat as you squeeze your eyes shut. Tears run down your cheeks as your head hits the pillow and you shake against the mattress, overwhelmed by the wave of pleasure erupting throughout you. Wave after wave of hot pleasure spreads across your skin and Yugyeom watches in awe as your pussy squirts all over him and down his bare chest.
“Fuck, baby!” He laughs when you finally come to. “You just squirted!”
You feel your cheeks heat as you look down at his wet body and the mess on the sheets. “I-I did,” you mutter, suddenly shy.
“Don’t get embarrassed on me now, kitten,” he smiles reassuringly at you. “That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever done, babe. I just want to eat you out forever now!”
You suck in a breath when he dips down and laps at your cum. You shiver at the sting of oversensitivity, pushing his head away. 
“Too much, Gyeom,” you whine weakly.
He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your thigh before sitting back up. 
The smirk returns to his face as his eyes darken again. “Too much, kitten? But I’m just taking care of you. I know you love your self-care nights so much.”
Your eyes grow wide as you follow his hands. You swallow, seeing the bulge of his jeans. And despite having orgasmed the hardest you ever have just moments ago, you find your pussy clenching against air.
And the ache for your boyfriend returns, tenfold. 
A shiver runs down your spine as he presses his red, hard cock to your swollen pussy. A little indulgence never hurt anyone right? After all, you had a very rough week. 
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