#Also yes if she falls with her jacket on she is unable to get up

[clownsuu]

here’s another art dump post of some things I posted on other blog without context, and some doodles that didn’t see the light of day—

Also the latest colored ones is a new character smhhh, Her name’s Ms.Ruby, made basically by request by my lovely partner (love u u nerd 😔💥🥄🥄🥄🥄)

Ruby is part of Robbie’s lil network of family, and there isn’t much about her atm, but she is a very fashionable woman, who in the mob vers would dabble in the legal works of the mob as a lawyer (who totally follows the law completely and never tampers with evidence to bring a good case for her client-)

but yeah I found a meme while trying to find a ref for her jacket and I ran with it- (I will never get the fashion industry)

(@/thelone-copper for the random colt 😔🥄🥄)

[ultrone]

hii !! i love ur work so much, how about reader taking care of pregnant shauna in the wilderness

lets pretend that her baby made it :(

𓂃  ⊹ reader being the wilderness dad that stepped up 🗣️💪🏻

while pregnant…

you often found yourself walking on eggshells around shauna cuz of her mood swings, especially when she was hungry, which was pretty much almost every day 😭 if u wanted to stay out of trouble, the only acceptable responses to any of her requests were either "yes, baby" or nodding silently.

and if you happened to get into an argument, your best bet was to either shut the fuck up or just roll your eyes, unless you wanted her to be passive-aggressive towards you for the entire day.

although even if she got mad at you, her corny ass would always end up snuggling into you at night, holding you tightly before falling asleep. sometimes she’d “angrily” turn her back to you for the first ten minutes, but then she’d grab one of your arms and place it around her waist, wanting you to cuddle her lmaooo

after finding out she was pregnant, you began marking down the weeks with a sharp rock on the walls of the attic to keep track of her pregnancy.

around the sixth month, you began assisting her with skinning the animals and cutting the meat. initially, you didn't enjoy the task, but you didn't want her to become even more tired than she already was. therefore, you asked her to show you how to do it, and once she did, you took over the chore to ease her burden.

you'd also make sure to cut her food portions a little bigger while making yours smaller. of course, you didn't tell her this cuz you knew she'd get mad at you for nearly starving yourself at her expense, even though she needed it the most.

whenever she was stressed or exhausted, she loved it when you’d let her sit between your legs, her back against your chest, while you massaged her scalp as she closed her eyes.

during your free time, you’d spend hours sewing beanies and tiny socks for the baby using fabric from some of your jackets and cotton shirts, as you knew he was likely to be born during the winter.

as her belly gradually started to grow, you began talking to it, hoping the baby would recognize your voice once he was born.

you approached shauna's belly, softly caressing it on the sides with your hands. "shippy, if you can hear me, kick your mom for me," you said with a faux serious expression, only to receive a punch on the shoulder. "ow!" you exclaimed, rubbing your shoulder with a pout on your face.

after giving birth…

you hated to admit it given the circumstances, but you were excited af 😭 as soon as the baby was born, you’d take care of him as if he was your biological son.

even though shauna loved her baby and wanted to spend all day with him, she was actually relieved that you were so obsessed with him too. your preoccupation gave her some much-needed time to herself or simply to rest throughout the day.

you also knew that hungry shauna and restless shauna = everyone’s worst nightmare 😭 so, if necessary, you’d let her sleep if the baby started crying at night, rocking him to sleep on your own.

it became a common occurrence for her to wake up in the morning and see you fast asleep next to her, with the baby tightly cradled in your arms, his tiny head resting against your chest.

you'd often offer to take care of him. in fact, you wouldn't even offer—you'd just literally take the baby from shauna’s arms at random and play with him, rubbing his belly or nuzzling your nose against his face. his response would often be giggling or slapping your face with his little hands.

“ow! stop poking my eye!” you exclaimed, pretending to be stern but unable to hide the smile on your face. the baby just looked at you with wide, innocent eyes, his tiny hand still hovering near your face. “you think that’s funny, huh?” you asked as you tickled his belly, causing him to burst into a fit of giggles. shauna watched from a distance, a soft smile on her face as she watched the two of you bond.

when his teeth started to grow, you carved several animal-shaped figures from unused pieces of wood that were too small to be used for the bonfire. after thoroughly washing them in the lake, you would then give them to the baby for him to chew on.

although he’d usually prefer to chew on your fingers and hands.

⟢ 🍼

"babe, our little shippy seems to have inherited some interesting traits from his mom," you began, a mischievous twinkle in your eye as you watched the baby gnawing on your hand.

shauna glanced at you, curiosity piqued. "oh? which ones?"

you chuckled, gently pulling your hand away from the baby’s mouth. "i made all these cute little wooden animals for him to chew on, but he seems to prefer biting me instead."

shauna laughed, a light blush dusting her cheeks as she saw you pointing at a freshly given hickey she had left on your skin last night while tai was spending time with the baby.

"well, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, i suppose," she retorted with a grin on her face.

"it didn’t, it actually fell a bit too close if you ask me," you started, "van was playing with him yesterday and out of nowhere he bit her nose so hard it left a mark. i literally had to drag little shippy away from her face because he wouldn’t let go."

shauna chuckled at your story, shaking her head in amusement. she then looked at the baby, her voice filled with affection. "good job, sweetie," she cooed at him while pinching his cheeks, causing you to roll your eyes at her.

you then turned to the baby as well, your voice softening. "but we should probably start teaching you some manners, shouldn’t we? biting people and leaving marks on them isn’t very nice," you said while side-eyeing your girlfriend.

she then looked back at you, a mischievous grin on her face. "although, i can't say i mind leaving a few more marks on you," she teased, giving you a kiss on the neck.

with a blush on your face, you quickly covered your son's eyes with your hand. "shauna, there's a baby in the room," you complained in a playful tone. "ow!" you exclaimed, pulling your hand away from his face as you felt his little growing teeth bite forcefully.

shauna couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “well, he’s just learning from the best,” she said, giving your hand a sympathetic rub where the baby had bitten you.

she leaned in to give you a quick peck on the cheek. “and just so you know,” she added with a playful smirk, “i think he’s already showing signs of being as stubborn as you.”

feigning shock, you retorted, “shauna, you’re setting a bad example for our son,” earning another round of laughter from her. the baby, oblivious to your banter and the clear discomfort on your face from the previous bite, simply continued to stubbornly chew on your hand, his tiny teeth leaving their mark.

note : thank youuuu, it means a lot <33 i hope u like the hcs

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 4: Reasonable Requests

Prompt: "No, we're not doing that"

Post-ep for "Rain King": After Holman and Sheila finally get together, Mulder and Scully have their own romantic moment. Unfortunately, Scully also has doubts. Rating T, wc: 1,418.

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

The rain has stopped and the clouds have made way for a clear, starry night. Mulder gazes at the stars, smiling and humming “Somewhere Over The Rainbow”.

They’d see a rainbow now too if it weren’t nighttime, he’s sure of it. He catches a shooting star and mentally high-fives Holman, unable to suppress a grin. But he’s not concerned with Holman, or Sheila right now; instead, he glances at Scully. He almost asked her to dance with him back inside, but didn’t dare. Here he is, offering Holman advice about not bottling up his feelings while doing the exact same thing.

“Are you ready to drive back to the motel?” Scully asks him, her arms slung around her body.

“Are you cold?” He’s by her side in an instant, taking off his jacket and draping it over her shoulders. She frowns, shooting him a sharp look.

“It is still you, right?”

“Is it- yes, Scully, it’s still me. Do you want me to prove it to you?” She remains quiet. But her eyes seem to challenge him. “Fine.” He’s trying to come up with something easy and fun. There are so many things they’ve gone through together, many if not most of them tragic. He doesn’t want that for tonight. Right now, when Shelia and Holman are learning they’re in love with each other, when couples old and new are dancing together to some old romantic song, he doesn’t want to break the spell.

“You got me a ‘Fun Facts About Cryptids’ book for Christmas and I read some to you until you fell asleep. I woke you when your mother called, asking where you are. She wanted me to join you for Christmas, but I politely declined.” They stare at each other and when Mulder sees the soft flush on her cheeks, he can’t help but wonder what she’s remembering about that night. Maybe the way he touched her cheek to wake her and the way she tilted her head, seeking out his touch until she realized where she was, and what she was doing. A moment he cherishes.

“Believe me now?” Mulder whispers close to her ear, a grin on his face.

“I believe you.” She lets his jacket swallow her whole and it’s on the tip of his tongue to call her cute. But that would just lead to more questions cause she’d think he was an impostor after all.

“So Scully,” he says, opening the car door for her which earns him another eyebrow. “When’s your high school reunion?”

“Not anytime soon. When’s yours?”

“I think I already missed it,” Mulder says, starting the car. “Not interested in going. Would you go to yours?”

“Probably,” Scully replies with a sigh.

“If you need a date,” he trails off, winking at her before he starts the car.

“What’s with you tonight, Mulder?” Her eyes remain on him, but he’s focusing on the road. It seems as if everyone is at the reunion because the roads are empty and it takes them less than five minutes to get back to their motel. Five minutes in which Mulder doesn’t answer her.

“I’m just happy,” he replies finally, admitting it to her and himself.

“Because of Holman and Sheila.” It’s not a question.

“Just- no one died, Scully. It’s the opposite. Love won.”

“I didn’t know you were such a romantic,” she says softly, unbuckling her seat belt and getting out of the car. Mulder does the same; he wanted to open the car door for her again but realizes that maybe it would have been too much anyway. He locks the car and jogs over, falling into step with her.

“Hm, maybe I’m not the only romantic here. What did you tell Sheila?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Scully isn’t looking at him, but she’s smiling. She’s rummaging around in her pocket to find the key. Their key. “Mulder, do you have the key?” He might have the key, he realizes. It could be in his pocket, but right now, he doesn’t care. Standing here in front of this hotel room – their one, shared room – with Scully wearing his jacket, her hair falling into her face and her trying to blow it away, he has an epiphany. Everything else falls by the wayside. There’s only one thing that matters to him at this moment and it’s Scully. It’s about righting a wrong. It’s about taking a chance. Leaping before he can think better of it.

“Scully?”

“Yes?” She lifts her head and her blue eyes are big and wet and questioning. She thinks this is about the key to their motel room. To Mulder, it’s about unlocking new mysteries of the heart. He gently cups her chin and she gasps. A second passes and another. She doesn’t move away and just stares up at him, her lips parting slightly. When her tongue comes out to wet them, it’s his cue. He leans down slowly, giving her all the time in the world to change her mind or move away. She does neither. Instead, she meets him halfway.

He’s kissed her in his dreams once; a hallucination, as Scully called it. Supposedly he was drowning and later on, high as a kite. Kissing her now, though, he is surprised at how oddly familiar it feels. Her lips soft and plush, following his every movement, anticipating him. Their tongues tease and tangle, getting to know each other better and better. He never wants this kiss to end. He tugs her closer to him and she comes willingly. It’s only when his hand sneaks under her jacket – his, really – that she moves away, ending the kiss.

Mulder is still holding her and she’s staring at his eyes, then his lips. Just as he’s about to lean in again, she moves away from him, sneaks under his arm, and stands next to the door.

“Where is that damn key?” she mumbles, searching every available pocket.

“Here,” he says, handing it to her. It had been in his own pocket after all. She grabs it from him and startles when their fingers touch. She unlocks the door with shaky movements and disappears inside.

“I’m just gonna-,” she starts as soon as Mulder has closed the door behind him. “The bathroom. I’m going to get ready for, um, bed. We can just… I mean nothing happened. We can just pretend that we didn’t- it was an emotional night.” It takes Mulder a moment to understand what she’s saying. Her eyes are wild and she still has the key in her hand, playing with it. She looks ready to run out of the room and not come back all night.

Scully, I-” But what is he supposed to say? He licks his lips and tastes her. He can’t forget this happened, because he doesn’t want to forget it.

“So we’re clear on that,” she says matter-of-factly. “Nothing happened. It wasn’t- we’re going to forget this happened.”

“No, we’re not doing that,” he says softly. “I’m not going to forget this happened. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for ages, Scully. You were there in my hallway.” She looks at the floor, but he sees her nod. He takes his second big chance tonight and walks closer.

“We can leave it at that one kiss,” he says, touching her cheek. Her lips still look thoroughly kissed and he has to focus to not lose himself there again. “One spectacular kiss, I must say. But we can decide to leave it at that. If that’s what you want. I’m not going to pretend it didn’t happen, Scully. I can’t.”

“I don’t want to pretend either,” she says. “I’m just not sure we should-” she looks at him and then over at the bed. Oh. Oh, she’s thinking ahead of him. This time he blushes.

“Scully, we waited all this time to kiss. We don’t- this doesn’t have to be anything but- fuck, let’s call it a goodnight kiss, all right? How about we start with that? Kissing good night?”

“A romantic and a gentleman?” There’s his Scully again, gently teasing him.

“I can be,” he says earnestly.

“Thank you,” she says. “We’re still technically on a case and- I don’t trust this bed, or the weather around here.”

“Can I give you another kiss goodnight, though, before I lay down on that not-very comfortable cot? Just in case another cow tries to kill me tonight.”

“A kiss goodnight sounds reasonable.”

And they’re reasonable people after all.

[latibvles]

can’t sleep it off.

yes i am aware i missed week five i’ll likely circle back and write it at the end of rewatch but!!! week six !! the prompt this week was running. heed the trigger warnings for this one: body horror, mainly (more overt than i’ve ever been on that regard), depictions of injury, and once again viv’s brain being very unkind to her. we lean into whump here, to an extent. i’ll amend my crimes with holiday prompts.

TAGLIST: @sparkedupsilver , @derry-rain , @elysian-crow , @archival-hogwash , @cetaitlaverite , @pastexistence , @saturnwisteria

—

The ground beneath her is hard, cold, and unforgiving.

Everything's cold — the air around her, the pale gray sky above her, but her body runs hot like a furnace each time her feet land against the ground. Her lungs ache and she doesn't know how long she's been running for. Just that she is, and that judging by the shouts behind her, she can't stop.

She has half a mind to toss her jacket to the wind, but that'd mean freezing to death later. Her body hurts despite the adrenaline, her tongue is dry and her eyes are stinging. To say she's never been afraid before would be a lie, but to say that she's used to this kind of panic settling in her bones would also be a lie.

Panic. She's never panicked before — not that she can remember. She's been afraid, been fearful, but never panicked.

As if she is the mouse caught in the trap, trembling in its own piss and shit as it waits to die, snagged on its tail by a rusted, metal bar.

She blinks back the tears blurring her vision, tries to shut out the sound of shouting behind her, knowing if she stops then she'll be shot or dragged away into an unknown she's too scared to face. She might throw up if she keeps running like this, but she doesn't care about that. Her body will endure because it has to, because there's no other option, because—

White-hot pain shoots up the length of her leg and a scream rips from her throat, hands gripping her thigh as she falls and hits the dirt with a thud. It blurs her vision, becoming black and spotty at the edges and she dares a look down.

She sees the blood first, pooling in the dying grass. Then the bone jutting from the jagged torn skin of her calf — the thick sheen of dark red clinging and clumping to the surface and— oh god, she might be sick.

She's spluttering and heavy, hiccuping on her own sobs as panic drags her down and she tries to prop herself up— to crawl away, to scramble, to force herself up onto one leg but to no avail.

Paralyzed in her panic, head whipping around wildly until they settle upon cold, dead, dark eyes a few feet from her — bullet-hole the size of an apple wedged between the brows of a woman she's flown with but cannot remember the name of, her blood serving as a halo around her head as she stares right through and finally bile rises in the other woman's throat, threatening to spill out.

A trapped, dumb little mouse. A dead little mouse.

She squeezes her eyes shut, unsure if the sob that wrenches from her is from the pain or panic or resignation that it's over— will be over soon enough.

People die the exact way they're born, helpless and terrified and unable to do a goddamn thing about it.

She coughs hard, swearing that her lungs are working their way up and out through her throat, body curling in on itself, hands clutching at her head and the healed over scab at the base of it and hopes this will be quick.

The steps get closer, louder, shouting in a language she doesn't understand and—

Vivian shoots up like a rocket, smacks her head on the bunk above her and bites her tongue to keep from swearing. She thinks she tastes blood, fist slamming against the mattress at the newfound pain. There's a wet cough somewhere in the room. When the throbbing in her head subsides enough, she reaches down towards her propped up leg, groping at the fabric and anticipating the feel of sticky blood and bone.

No such sensation. She shuts her eyes and takes in a shuddering breath. Her fingers immediately grope for the base of her skull to feel the healed over skin there, no longer scabbed nor bloody.

"Hey."

The voice makes her jump again, nearly whacking herself for a second time as her head snaps to the sound.

She can barely make out Bucky in the dark, only knowing that it's him because this is the place he's decided to shack up in for the time being — because she hasn't bitten his hand and he hasn't overstepped yet. So he sleeps in a chair by her bunk, because she can't be trusted to ask for help anymore, and this is the best way to keep her from falling again and making her ankle worse.

Or something like that.

He's looking at her now and she wants to squirm further into the bunk until her back is pressed against the wall and he can no longer see her. Her current position: laying flat on her back, leg propped up like this bunk is her coffin, doesn't allow for that.

"You okay?" His voice is a gruff whisper, thick with sleep, and Vivian's lips press into a line.

"Hit my head. S'fine." Her voice is more trembling than she means for it to be. Her limbs feel like jello, too weak to smack his hand away when it goes to press at her forehead.

Still tender. She flinches hard and turns her head. His fingers brush against a wet cheek and her body stiffens as he drags them across her skin for a moment before pulling his hand away.

"…you sure?"

"Uh-huh," she insists.

"What about your leg?"

Vivian swallows hard— stomaching venom, and bile, and a million things she could say in an attempt to bite his wrist and draw blood. Some days she's more reactive than others. With the panic ebbing away, she just feels exhausted and a little more resigned to his worrying— an old man in the end-stage of his life, chain-smoking cigarettes and waiting for his slow-beating heart to give out.

A dog getting ready to be put down in the backyard.

"What're you gonna do if it doesn't heal?" she asks, fisting the sheets, turning to look at him.

"That's not gonna happen." It's so immediate, reflexive, like he's been waiting to pull the trigger on that response for weeks now. Vivian's brows furrow, fisting the sheets.

"That's not what I asked."

"I'll carry you around if I have to. Piggyback or Princess style?"

"John."

A heavy silence settles over them, loud like the whistling winter wind outside. Her eyes have since adjusted to the dark; she can make out his eyes that flit along her figure, settling on her leg before dragging back up towards her eyes. She can make out the slight overgrown shape of his curls, how the width of him shields her from most other people in the room, when he's turned towards her like this and she can't help but think about how her hands know that hair, and her body knows the planes of his pressed against her.

Just like she knows that the Germans don't care that she can barely stand, hardly walk. They just don't like it when she leans on Gale during their sporadic middle-of-the-night headcounts. They'd rather her suffer the weight on her own, and that's probably the last thing she should be doing right now.

The wood creaks as Bucky leans forward to rest his chin on the thin excuse for a mattress, shutting his eyes for a moment and sighing before reopening them.

"Don't wanna think about that," he admits and she nods, swallowing hard, staring at the wood supports above her head.

"Me neither," she admits, swallowing hard to hide the way her chin wobbles a little. He doesn't say anything of that, just shifts to use his arms as a pillow.

She wishes there was something else to focus on. Because if she focuses on the fact that this is the first time he's said something like that out loud: that he doesn't want to talk about something, or think about it, then she has to think about all the things she still isn't saying. And then she's back to thinking about how terrified she actually is, and how she isn't saying that, because she'd rather die than admit to being afraid of anything, even like this.

What if she never walks again? What if her body never goes back to the way it used to be? What else would change it, scar it, bend it permanently without her wanting it to? Vivian reaches up to wipe her cheek again furiously, no longer caring to hide it in the dark, where only he can see her like this.

She doesn't know what it says about them, that they can only really see each other in the pitch black, and the worst part is now she has the time to think on it.

"It's gonna heal," Bucky says, reaching for her hand to squeeze it and saying nothing of the dampness there.

She's been trying to do better about not snapping her jaws at any hand on her. It's easier when it's fleeting touches like this. Squeeze, then let go. She chews on her lip for a moment, careful about biting too hard and making herself bleed again.

"Didn't think you could still be optimistic."

"I'm not," he mutters. "I just know it is."

"You a doctor?" Vivian asks sarcastically.

"I wish." He kisses his teeth. She raises a brow.

"Why?"

"Cause then I could've set the bone," he murmurs with a slight shrug. Vivian just nods, instead of arguing with it, looking back at her leg as he tries to get a read on her barely-visible face. She doesn't remember much of Lena setting her broken bone— just that they'd done it on the floor, that she'd bit down on a glove so hard she thought her teeth might crack and she'd shed a couple tears, contorting and wailing like a harpy. She doesn't remember if it was him holding her down or maybe another one of her girls, but the bruises on her shoulders were a small price to pay so she said nothing of them.

Always on the ground, staring up at something. Always needing to be pulled to your feet, seeking a crutch. Jesus fucking Christ Vivian, stand up for once.

That logical part of her brain reminds her that she can't. Can't stand, can't run, can't do much of anything besides lay here and think about all the things she can't do and hate herself for it, despite that sickeningly sweet earnestness that comes with every offer of help.

She doesn't find herself deserving of help from anybody, least of all him. And knowing why he so readily puts himself between her teeth doesn't make it any easier to stomach.

There is nothing admirable about her helplessness, nothing desirable to be found in all the things she can't do, and she'd understand it better if they were still at Thorpe Abbotts, and she was still funny or charming or kind. But she's not, and she doesn't think she could be, just like how she doesn't think that even if it does heal, that her body will ever be the same again.

There are some things, though, that Vivian wants to try. And if she doesn't ask now then she might never try and bring it up again in anything but hypotheticals.

"Bucky?" she asks, feeling small, half prodding to see if he's still awake. He lifts his head a little bit like a dog called to attention.

"Yeah?" Vivian feels heat creeping up her neck, a strange mix of humiliation at asking for this and endearment that he's so eager to help her. If she thinks on it too hard, she'll hide away from him entirely all over again. Hide away from everyone and growl when she's being stared at for too long.

"D'you think any of the other guys might have extra wood lying around? I wanna make a crutch or… maybe a splint. Or something." If I can't run then I at least want to walk. Or maybe even stand.

"I can try." Bucky mutters back, a quiet fire lit beneath him and if she didn't know any better she thinks he might get up and start knocking on doors now, snatching away unsuspecting prisoners' chairs and make her a perfect, polished, matching set of crutches.

"Thanks." She mutters, and he says nothing to that, probably because he doesn't think she needs to thank him at all.

[thatfanficstuff]

Not About You - 35

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x ofc

Warnings: nope

Lucy woke slowly, blinking against the light in the room. Elijah sat on the edge of the bed beside her one of his hands holding hers. He didn’t bother with the lie of a smile as his gaze moved from her to where Damon sat behind her. “Please give us a moment.”

Damon kissed her temple before getting off the bed. “I’ll be right outside if you need me, baby.”

She nodded but didn’t turn to look at him. She couldn’t stand seeing that defeated expression on his face again.

Damon shut the door behind him as he left and Elijah frowned after him. There was no point in the younger vampire leaving the room if he was just going to stand in the hall. He’d be able to hear everything. Elijah also wasn’t going to ask Damon to get lost in his own home.

Lucy licked her lips and untangled her hand from Elijah’s to reach over and flip on the small box on the nightstand. She turned the volume all the way up and the sound of ocean waves filled the room. Elijah looked at her in surprise. “White noise machine. Works wonders.”

He smiled softly. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.” He removed a vial of what looked like blood from his pocket and showed it to her.

“What is that?”

“Niklaus’ blood. It is the only known cure for a vampire bitten by a werewolf. If it doesn’t work on you…” he trailed off, unwilling or unable to finish the thought. He cleared his throat. “There are some things you need to be aware of before you drink this.”

She studied him for a moment before nodding once. He wasn’t happy about whatever he needed to tell her.

He sighed and took her hand back in his. “As I’m sure you have gathered, Niklaus can be…difficult. His beginnings were unhappy. Our parents were cruel to him. I failed in protecting him as I should have. He was my younger brother. It was my job and I failed. He has a warped sense of right and wrong. Imagine an abused child with the rage issues of a werewolf and the heightened senses of a vampire. It’s usually not pleasant.”

Pain stabbed through her again and she hissed as she arched her back. Elijah gripped her hand more tightly and brushed her hair from her forehead. Once the wave of agony passed, he took the rag lying on the bedside table and wiped her face down.

“We can discuss this in detail later, right now I will give you the abbreviated version. That blood belongs to my evil hybrid brother but it is the best chance at saving you. I hadn’t talked to my brother since he confessed to dumping our siblings in the ocean. As you know, my intention was to lure him to Mystic falls using the doppelganger as the bait and kill him.” The muscle in his jaw worked as he clenched his teeth and took a breath. “I gave him Elena to save you. I gave him my chance for revenge, but that wasn’t enough for him.”

“What did he want?” she asked when he didn’t continue on his own.

“He gave me the blood with the understanding that if you drink it, you will meet with him when he comes to town and you will owe him three favors of his choosing.”

She blinked in surprise. “So I live, in theory anyway, but I will owe three unspecified favors to the evil Original hybrid?”

“That about sums it up, yes.”

Silence stretched as she thought, considering all the things the hybrid might ask her to do. “You gave him Elena?” Lucy wasn’t certain exactly what that meant. She didn’t care for the girl but wasn’t sure how she felt about someone else’s life being traded for her own.

He shook his head. “In a manner of speaking. I gave him her name and location. It puts him in control of the situation which I don’t care for, but it can’t be helped.”

She took the vial from him and turned it in the light before handing it back. “Being alive and tied to the hybrid is better than being dead. I haven’t been able to keep anything down, though. What if I just throw it back up?”

He hummed. “Damon had mentioned.” He opened his suit jacket and pulled a syringe from the inside pocket. “I came prepared. Let me see the wound.”

He sucked his brother’s blood into the needle before injecting it directly into the bite. She screamed through clenched teeth and he uttered a quiet apology. He laid the needle on the table but kept the neck of the shirt shifted so he could watch see the injury.

At first, Lucy felt nothing but slowly the itching and burning eased. It was almost as if someone spread something cooling over it.

A few moments later, Elijah sighed in relief. “It is healing.” He let go of her shirt and placed his hand on her chin to turn her attention back to him. “How are you feeling?”

She took a deep breath and did a quick mental inventory. “Better.” With a still trembling hand, she reached over and took the glass of water from the nightstand. She took a large swallow, closing her eyes in relief as it cooled her sore throat. When several minutes passed and it didn’t make a reappearance, she threw herself at Elijah and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you, Elijah. Thank you so much.”

He returned her embrace and held her tightly. “You are welcome, little one. Though I fear you won’t be thanking me when you meet my brother.”

“We’ll deal with that when he gets here.” She pulled back to look at him. “Not a word about this to anyone, Elijah. I mean it.”

He nodded his head once. “You have my word.”

Elijah left via the window wanting to avoid the Salvatores’ questions for the time being. Lucy opened the door surprised to find the hallway empty. With a frown, she wiped herself down with a washcloth and changed her clothes not wanting to take the time to shower just yet. She was surprised Damon hadn’t already come back to check on her and wanted to find the reason for it. That meant searching him out, not just calling his name.

As she headed down the stairs and heard raised voices. The brothers were fighting. She headed toward the library as that appeared to be where the voices were coming from.

“It’s John Gilbert, Stefan. He tried to kill me or did we forget that already? He can’t be trusted.”

“I’m not saying he can, but you can’t just kill him,” Stefan tried to reason.

“Why is he here anyway?” Damon sounded more frustrated than angry.

“Caroline said Elena sent for him. He claims to know about the sacrifice. Bonnie found out the Martins are working for Elijah so they’re disregarding everything they were told by Luca. Apparently, Elena was under the impression we would do our best to save her because she’s Caroline’s friend.” Lucy’s lips twitched at the annoyed undertone in Stefan’s voice.

“I can’t talk about this anymore, Stefan. Lucy is upstairs possibly taking her last breath even as we speak. I couldn’t care less about the save Elena squad right now.”

Lucy opened the door just as he said those words and both brothers snapped their heads in her direction. Stefan smiled and Damon’s eyes widened. “Lucy,” he breathed. Then, before she could even take a step into the room, he was in front of her. His hands cradled her head and he looked her over before pressing his lips to hers. He pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around her as he continued kissing her head. “Thank god.”

She looped her arms around his waist. “I’m okay, Day. ‘Lijah fixed me.”

“How?”

“Can’t tell you that. Not yet.”

“It doesn’t matter as long as you’re alright,” Stefan said as he laid a hand on her back and kissed her temple. “I really wasn’t looking forward to having to tell Caroline her bestie was gone.”

“Shut up, Stefan,” Lucy said, her voice muffled against her vampire’s chest. The brothers laughed and Stefan left the room. Damon lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep balanced. She was struck again by how much she loved him.

Whatever the hybrid may ask of her, it was worth it for this.

[harryforvogue]

omg yes please write this !!!

also i can just picture lucia apologizing profusely for like being late or something because of her compulsions and then also having compulsions during their date and harry’s just sitting there completely enamored and fascinated like: no it’s okay :D :D

just a quick lil something <3

***

Harry can’t help but be annoyed. And he thinks, as he sits in the restaurant, eyes trained on the door, that it’s totally fair for him to be.

Lucía, the girl he’s meeting up with for the first time, is the one who chose the restaurant and set the time. And she’s the one who hasn’t shown up yet. He peeks down at his watch. It’s nearing 6:30 and the reservation was for the top of the hour. Not a sight of her and not a single text from her.

So, yeah. He’s annoyed. And getting increasingly so as the minutes tick on.

The waiter has come by twice asking for his order and by the third time, Harry’s too pissed off to waste more time. He goes to stand, telling the waiter he’ll be leaving now.

And that’s when Lucía comes into the restaurant, her hair coming loose from her ponytail, her cheeks red from the cold air, and her eyes apologetic. She catches Harry’s gaze and takes a deep breath, walking briskly to the table.

“Hi,” she says. She’s breathless, unable to get more than a few words out. “I’m sorry. I’m so…late. I’m so…sorry.”

One look at her face makes all the irritation built up in his chest dissipate. He looks at her curiously, taking her in. He’s seen her pictures from her profile, but seeing her up close is different. She’s, well, absolutely beautiful. And in shambles.

“Hi.” Harry shuffles back into his seat. He might be staring a little bit. “Er, it’s all right.”

“Were you… uh, were you leaving?”

“Well, I honestly wasn’t sure if you were just late or if you were standing me up.”

Lucía’s eyes go all wide and embarrassed. “No! No, I wasn’t standing you up. I got out of work really late and had to drive someone home and I couldn’t say no to them even though their house is, like, the opposite way.” She makes a show of her hands to show directions though. Then, she takes a very deep breath, falling into her seat when Harry sits down again. “Listen. I’m sorry. I really am. Is it too late now?”

She looks so genuinely worried, Harry doesn’t have the heart to tell her how long he was waiting. So he doesn’t. He fixes his hair behind his ear and shakes his head. “It’s all right. It’s not too late. I think we may have to order quickly though.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” She starts removing her scarf and then her jacket. Harry pours her some water and slides the glass over. She thanks him softly and takes several seconds to drink all the contents. “Okay. Uh, well, I’ve been here before so I know what to order.”

“Okay.” He peeks at his menu even though he already knows what he’s getting too. Spending nearly half an hour here has led him to glance through the menu at least three times, figuring out what exactly he would like.

The waiter, far more impatient now, comes by with a notepad. “What drinks would you like?”

“Just water for me is fine,” Harry says. Lucía agrees.

They order their food and then are left in silence.

“So,” Lucía says, fixing her blouse. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Harry.”

“It’s nice to meet you. You look really great, Lucía.” She’s in professional clothing. A dark blouse and equally dark pants. She’s wearing a gold necklace and elegant gold hoop earrings.

“It’s my work outfit. I was fully planning on changing before getting here.” She swallows. “I apologize again.”

Harry’s momentarily distracted by the way her hair tumbles out with graceful curls as she undoes her hair tie. It’s a new sight since all her pictures online are with her hair up. She quickly scrapes all her hair back into a ponytail again, lacing her fingers neatly in on the table before her. 

“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t waiting for long.”

“Good. Did you have work today too?”

“I did. I work both in person and remotely, but today I was in the office. It’s about half an hour from here.”

“Oh, nice. How was your day?”

“Good.” Harry blinks. “It was busy. We’ve got some new hires for the new season so it’s been a lot of training. Always reminds me of what I had to go through when I first started working there.”

Lucía drinks her water again. When she’s done, she gently wipes the corner of her mouth. “I had some new hires too, except thankfully I don’t have to train them. I can confidently say I’m good at my job, but having to explain every little part of it is just impossible for me. They’d learn nothing from my rambling.”

Harry smiles. Her voice is quiet and careful. Her face is tired, either from the long day or from lack of sleep, which he assumes due to her dark circles. Still, she’s very pretty.

“I hope they don’t kick us out early,” she continues, looking around the restaurant nervously. “I mean, there’s usually a time limit on restaurants, right?”

“I think we’ll be fine,” Harry assures her. “And even if we get kicked out, we’ll go someplace else for dessert. If you’d like.”

She nods. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

“Do you live far?”

“Not exactly. I’m pretty close to my job, which is great. Especially in the winter since it snows like hell. I think there’s a snowstorm coming over the weekend.”

“Right. Honestly, it’s new to me. I went to college down south so I’m honestly not a big fan of this weather.”

“When did you move to America?”

“Around 6 years ago. Coming up on 7 in a few months.”

“You still have a very prominent accent.”

“Do I?” Harry smiles. “Well, you have a Boston accent.”

Lucía laughs softly. “Nobody’s ever said that to me before.”

“No? It definitely comes out in certain words.”

“Am I hard to understand?”

“Not at all. It’s really nice actually.”

Lucía moves her fork over to her other side and lays it neatly down on the napkin. She smoothes out the edges of the napkin and then shifts her knife over just a centimeter to put distance between it and the fork. She does it to her spoon on her right side and the tablecloth, and Harry assumes she’s a little nervous.

“So do you use the app often?” he says, to distract her. She glances up at him, a little startled. It seems like she was totally engrossed in herself.

“Not really. If I’m honest,” she laughs a little bit, pink in the cheeks, “I downloaded it so I could tell my parents that I was really trying to find a boyfriend.”

“They ask you about it?”

“They want me to start a life with someone.” She’s back to flattening out the napkin, even though it’s already perfectly flat. “They live in Ecuador, so they’re real worried about me being alone here.”

“Ah. Do you live with roommates?”

“No, it’s just me. Do you?”

“I did until about 3 months ago. He moved out so now it’s just me in the apartment. It’s a little lonely.”

“For me, I don’t always think it’s lonely.” She picks up her glass and sets it down near the edge of the table. “Sometimes I think it’s nice to be alone.”

“I agree. But I don’t think I’d like to be alone all the time.”

“Yeah.” She’s looking across the table at his napkin now, frowning. She’s biting her lip, cracking her knuckles. Three on one hand, three on the other. Harry doesn’t think it’s nervousness now. “I’m so sorry. I’m about to say something really weird but I can’t help it.”

Harry shakes his head. “No no. What is it?”

“Um, can I take that?” She points at his unused napkin. Confusedly, he pulls it out from under his glass and hands it to her. “Thanks.”

He watches, fascinated, as she begins to flatten it out with her fingers. “Do your parents live in England?”

She’s having a conversation like it’s normal. “No, I moved with them here. Well, they came first and I stayed back to finish up the year I was in. Then I transferred here. I don’t think I could live here alone without them at such a young age.”

She nods. “That’s very true.” She begins to refold the napkin.

“Yes, it’s just a really big change and I think– okay. I have to ask. What are you doing?” he says laughingly.

She glances up at him, stopping her fingers. “Folding your napkin. I’m sorry. That’s really rude of me.” It seems to dawn on her that she’s being odd. “Sorry. Here.” She hands the napkin back to him.

“No it’s all right,” Harry grins. “I was just curious.”

“Sorry.”

“No really��”

“Oh, the food is here.” Judging by her tone, she really doesn’t want to talk about it, so he doesn’t bring it up.

The waiter sets down two plates on the table, telling them to “enjoy” and then leaving them alone. Lucía looks at her plate and then hesitates on her utensils. She picks up the fork and takes a careful bite.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” she asks him after swallowing. “I often come here with coworkers.”

“Yes, it’s lovely.” He’ll have to make a note to remember it for future nights out.

He also thinks she’s lovely. She’s very pretty with her warm eyes and her long eyelashes. Her lipstick is a little less pigmented from drinking so much water. Harry usually doesn't feel nervous on dates, but for some reason, he does now. He finds himself wiping his hands on his pants, bouncing his knee under the table, and thinking about her first impression of him.

Does she like him? Did she instantly feel something when she saw him too?

 “So, on your profile you said you like to stay in often. Is that mostly because of how busy you are with work?”

“Kinda. And also, I really don’t like waking up so early in the morning so I use my weekends to sleep in and recuperate.” She looks timid. “I like being in the comfort of my bed after work too. But sometimes I just fall asleep.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise. “You just go back to sleep after work?”

She smiles as she takes a sip of water. “I fall asleep really easily.”

Harry is immediately endeared.

“You must be a nightmare to watch movies with.”

“Oh, yes. I rarely finish movies because I fall asleep during them.”

“So it would be an awful idea for me to take you to the cinemas for our next date?”

She continues smiling. “Terrible.”

“Well, I’ll have to come up with something better then.” He likes teasing her. She’s cute.

She finishes drinking her water and then reaches for her napkin. After wiping her mouth, she begins flattening it again.

This time, however, she catches Harry’s eye as he watches her. She pulls her hands quickly into her lap and apologizes.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Harry jumps in. “I wasn’t–”

“Sorry. I just have a thing,” she says quietly. “It can be a little distracting.”

“No, really, Lucía. It’s all right. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

She nods, reaching for her fork, though Harry sees her eyes flickering to the crumpled napkin repeatedly. Harry strikes up the conversation again to give her a break from the attention, and once it’s off of her, her hands fly to her napkin, refolding it carefully so the corners meet perfectly.

He doesn’t bring it up. He decides at that moment to never bring it up until she decides she’s ready to tell him about it. He doesn’t watch her hands as they rearrange her cutlery or mess with her napkin again. He lets her do what she needs to to feel more at ease and it works because she relaxes into the conversation again.

When she rubs her eye for the second time, 45 minutes into their date, Harry laughs and calls for the waiter. He pays, politely declining her attempt at paying for herself. He helps her into her jacket and then walks her to her car.

“So no movies for next time, but let me make sure there will be a next time,” Harry says, leaning against her car.

She smiles brightly up at him and despite it, he sees the tiredness in her eyes. Something strikes his heart. Why does he want to hug her? Give her his jacket so she’s not shivering because of the wind.

“We can get the dessert we missed out on today,” she says, reaching for her keys. “Friday at 7?”

“Friday at 7 is perfect. I had fun tonight.”

“I did too. My faith in dating apps has been restored.”

Harry laughs. “I’m glad I could do that for you.” He searches her eyes for a moment and then bends down, kissing her cheek. As he’s pulling away, he draws up the hood of her winter jacket onto her head so far that she’s barely peeking up at him from under the faux fur. She giggles, fixing it. “Text me when you get home.”

“I will,” she promises, biting the inside of her cheek as if to hide a bigger smile.

She keeps her promise. She texts him 23 minutes later: Just got home. Looking forward to Friday!

And Harry decides that he likes Lucía. He’s interested to see where this goes.

[writingsofmax]

Disarm pt. 24

Words: 3.5 K

Summary: The final installment!! Warnings: gun violence, general canon-typical violence, graphic depictions of illness

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort Author's note: this work in it's entirety is dedicated to @e-moneyyy - I love you. I would also like to add a special thank you to @axololly who has been a supportive fan from DAY ONE

to all my readers-- sorry this took a million years for me to upload! Thanks to everyone who has been reading since the beginning or ever took the time to send me a nice message about it, leave a comment, like or reblog! This has been over a year in the making and has been a very big part of my life and I'm grateful to have shared it all with you :)

Disarm Chapter 24- Send This Smile Over To You

Falcone was dead. His plan had come to fruition, but not by his hand— by hers.She stood there, gripping the gun in both hands, her eyes wide and arms shaking. She stared down at the body, blood beginning to pool at her feet. Behind her, the giant arched window showed the sinister city of Gotham, unaware that its kingpin had fallen. Her breathing was shallow, downright ragged as she swayed on her feet. Falcone’s blood was now staining the rich velvet couch behind her. She looked up at Edward again, meeting his gaze. Her lips moved, but with all the ringing in his ears he couldn’t hear her, or anything else. She was alive, and she was there and Falcone was gone. Thank god she was alive. “Edward?” Her voice broke through the haze of his mind and suddenly he could move again. He could hear the screams of the people in the Iceberg lounge getting louder as the chaos grew downstairs. They needed to leave.  “Yes! It’s me, I’m here, I’m here..” he called out to her, his voice breaking with the last few words. He broke the distance between them quickly, but she didn’t move into his arms immediately. She just stood still. “Angel?” “I…. I killed him Eddie, I killed him, I killed…” She trailed off, her eyes wide, hands still around the trigger of the gun. Pupils blown, shaking, shallow breathing. “Y/N, I’m going to take the gun, okay?” She’s in shock. She nodded numbly at him in response, her fingers loosening around the grip, as he gently pulled it from her grasp. He unloaded it and tucked it away in his pocket. “Angel, we have to go.” She wasn’t responding. “Do they have anything of yours?” Still no answer. He put his hands on either side of her face. “Hey, I NEED you to ANSWER ME.” He pleaded, desperation clawing at his voice. She blinked, startled, “N-No. I… They don’t have anything, or… I don’t know if they have anything, I don’t know.” It wasn’t the most reassuring answer but they didn’t have time to dwell on it. He grabbed her hand to lead her out of the room but she didn’t follow. It seemed that she was unable to move. Gonna have to carry her.  Edward gently picked her up, noticing that she was shaking. Exits… Exits… 

They couldn’t go back the way they came, there would be more members of Falcone’s gang and with her in this state he would be unable to protect both of them. He scanned the room, his gaze falling upon a large window overlooking the city. Fire escape. 

He wasn’t sure how he managed it with Y/N thrown over his shoulder but he was relieved when his feet touched solid ground. People were still pouring out of the front entrance of the club, screaming and running.

Pulling his mask off he stuffed it into his jacket pocket, ripping the plastic wrap off as well. Setting Y/N down, he took her hand and walked directly into the crowd. The two of them were easily lost in the chaos until he found a familiar side street to escape to.  His mind was racing as he pulled Y/N behind him back to his apartment. How much information did Falcone have on him? Who else knew his identity? And hers? Just breathe. Calm down. Eddie reminded himself. As anxiety-inducing as it was, it wasn’t likely that Falcone had told anyone about the Riddler’s true identity because that would have meant implicating himself as well. Most likely, he had gone through the entire ransom plan in secret because he knew what information Edward had on him, but not where that information was stored.

Still. Falcone was a very important man in Gotham, and there WOULD be people looking for his killer. Which wasn’t him, it was–

“Eddie..”

Y/N’s voice broke through his inner monologue and he turned to face her. She was stopped, the hand that wasn’t holding his was on her knees, as she struggled to catch her breath. Shit. He had been pulling her behind him at a frantic pace for what, five or six blocks now?

“Sorry! Sorry..” He apologized. He still didn’t know what she had been given earlier, either. He hadn’t meant to be so careless, but they genuinely didn’t have time to stop. They needed to get as far away as possible.

She was crying now, the emotions from earlier just now catching up with her. Quickly he grabbed and lifted her.

“Sorry,” he mumbled again, resuming his pace, “It’ll be okay.”

He looked down at Y/N, regarding her for a moment, before continuing the trek back to his apartment. This person that he had randomly met one night a few months ago, had killed his main target. He had been working towards the culmination of his plan for YEARS and now it was completely over, in a way that he had never predicted.

He had NO idea what was going to happen now. He had been planning on releasing all the information he had on Falcone to the masses, and then killing him himself. He hadn’t necessarily planned on getting caught, but if he HAD, then he had prepared for that outcome as well. He had planned to make sure that Y/N would be well taken care of through his accounts and streams of revenue from his followers. He had planned for certain outcomes, but not this. Not ANY of this.

Climbing the steps to his apartment, he knew that this was the last time he would see the place. Neither his place or hers would be safe again after this. This was all fucked. He opened the door to his apartment and set her down on the couch. He needed to focus. “Can you tell me what they gave you?” He asked, his voice edged with frustration. He needed to address her condition first, and then everything else would come after.

“Gave me?” She asked, her words slow and confused.

Edward huffed, and closed his eyes for a second, trying to calm himself, “Just tell me what you remember.”

“They… They came in while I was cooking and…” she paused for a long time, seemingly deep in thought while he fought the urge to tell her to hurry up, “and I tried to fight… I tried to fight them and they…. They um… they held something over my mouth..” Edward continued looking at her expectantly, and she simply finished with,  “and then I was waking up somewhere else.”

“And how do you feel?”  He already knew some of the answers to that question by observing her. She was having trouble focusing, she was sweating a lot, her heart rate was high.

“I feel nauseous.. And…” she put a hand to her forehead, “I have a headache… I don’t feel good Eddie.” She finished, her voice cracking a bit with the last few words. 

Chloroform. Had to be. The symptoms were consistent with its use. He knew this because he had used it on others. He quickly brought her some water. “You need to drink this. All of it.” It wasn’t fluids administered intravenously, but it would have to do for right now. He left her on the couch, tearing through his apartment quickly. Clothes, medicine, identifying information, money, all got thrown haphazardly into a suitcase. He was going to leave his laptop and all electronics there. He didn’t have any identifying information on them anyway, and he most definitely wasn’t going to take anything that could be traced. Once he had a to go bag of sorts put together, he went to his laptop, and sent out the Falcone files. There. Done. He thought that he would feel a rush of victory, satisfaction or maybe even relief. But curiously enough he didn’t. He only felt sick with dread, and the overwhelming urge to escape with the girl he loved before her life was ruined. He turned to her and she was sitting up now, which was a good sign. A little color had returned to her face as well. “We have to leave now, okay?” He said, holding out his hand to her. She nodded in agreement, letting him help pull her up off the couch. “We won’t come back here,” he continued, hoping that she was understanding what this really meant, “I don’t know how long we’ll have to lay low for but, we won’t be back for awhile.” “I know.” she answered quietly. —-------------------------------------------------------------

Even long after the skyline of Gotham had fully disappeared behind them, Edward still didn’t feel at ease. Anxiety clawed at his thoughts. He needed to find a way to connect back with his followers so he could get a sense of what was going on, or at the very least, find a way to watch the news. Would they have to completely change their identities? Were they searching for him and Y/N right now? How much time did they have? Was it only Falcone and a few of his thugs, all of which were gone now, that knew of his identity or was it others that he didn’t know about?  Normally Edward liked unknowns, it gave him something to chew on or try and solve but this situation only filled him with dread. Well. Either way. Now the truth was out. Falcone, Renewal, the Drops ring, all of it. The city’s corruption laid out for everyone to see. And he had done it. Along with Y/N of course. Who, for the entirety of this long drive, had said less than ten words to him. “Angel?” Edward spoke, breaking the silence in the car. “Hm?” she responded, more of a noise than an answer. “Are you hungry?” Edward asked, glancing over at her in the passenger seat. After a long pause, she answered, “Not really.” “Hey Eddie?” “Yeah?” “What are we gonna do?” Anxiety curled in his stomach while he thought of what to say. Y/N meanwhile, didn’t move her gaze from the window. “I’m going to find us a motel to stay in at some point, but I would like to get a little farther away first though.” “And after that?” “Well. I need to find a way to get back in contact with my followers, to secure a revenue stream and then, I suppose that uh…” Edward glanced nervously over at Y/N, who was still slumped against her side of the car, staring out the window, “We…. Will have to find a place to stay for the time being. Lay low until we can go back to Gotham.” “Right,” she answered flatly, still staring out the window. She sounded exhausted.  “How are you feeling?” Eddie ventured. “Better,” she answered, just as colorlessly as before. Edward tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “So—- you appear to be in shock.”

Y/N actually looked at him then, first with wide eyes but then with the smallest hint of a smile.

“Probably.”  “No, you are.”

“Thanks for letting me know Eddie.”

He thought she sounded amused but he couldn’t be sure so he tried to further explain, “I want to inform you that the way you feel currently won’t last forever, and hopefully you’ll feel better soon– AND I would like to comfort you more and let you rest but we need to get far away, not because I don’t care about you. I care very much about—

“Eddie.”

“Yes?”

She put her hand on his shoulder and rubbed gently, “I know.” —-----------------------------------------

Y/N stared at the water stains on the ceiling of their motel room. Her head rested on a lumpy pillow that still smelled faintly of stale cigarette smoke. Edward was at the foot of the bed, leaned forward, watching the TV with interest. This was the farthest she or Edward had ever been out of the city.

Every time she closed her eyes, she was back in that lounge with Falcone. She was on the couch next to him, her body covered in sweat as her stomach flipped and she struggled to focus. It had been an instantaneous decision. The gun in his coat pocket, the handle glinting at her, begging her to grab it. She shook her head, willing herself to stop thinking about it. And what of Eddie? He had hardly spoken to her since he had come for her. She was a killer now too. “Eddie?” He turned from the TV and crawled up the bed to lay by her side, “Yes? Are you alright?” She turned into him and said into his chest, “Will you hold me?” She felt his arms wrap around her in response, and she sighed into his embrace, “Thank you..” He kissed the top of her head, just letting her relax for a minute before saying, “I’m so glad you’re here with me…thought I had lost you.” He almost had. She had been on the verge of giving up but she didn’t want to tell him that. Not after the lengths he had gone to for her. She simply hugged him tighter in response. —----------------------

A few weeks had passed. They were in a new place. A small bed and breakfast in the middle of a dense pine forest on the side of a narrow, windy road. There were hardly any people around save a few workers, and the cell phone and internet coverage was almost non-existent. While Edward stayed inside and watched the news off of the old tube TV, Y/N went outside in the mornings and took in the fresh air. It wasn’t as harsh on her lungs as the Gotham air had been, and she found herself feeling more at ease than ever, despite the dreadful circumstances of their visit.  When Edward would get too involved in watching the news, obsessively writing down new plans and ideas, contacts to make, things to report to his followers, she would gently pull him up from the small desk in their room, and take him outside. It had been strange to him at first, never having been outside of the city but after a while he started liking their walks outside, and agreed that it was beautiful. He had certain interest in cataloging different types of plants and animals they would frequently see on their walks. Edward was currently watching a pair of loons out on the lake intently. “Did you know that loons can only land on lakes of a certain size? They need enough take off area to gain the momentum to get back into the sky because of how heavy they are,” he explained. “Did you just look that up? There’s no service here.” Y/N asked, confused. “It was actually in the bird guide book they have on their lobby table,” he answered as he continued watching them from afar. Y/N took a deep breath, hands twitching at her sides. “Eddie?” She ventured, “What if we never go back?” He tilted his head in thought, and then turned his attention to her, “To Gotham?” He clarified. “Yeah.. Leave it all behind. Forever.”

They had been gone for a month already. She knew that wasn’t the plan but as time went on the thought of returning to Gotham made her feel more and more sick. The two of them had found an equilibrium of sorts, and Edward looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him. He had been spending far less time hunched over his laptop due to the spotty internet quality in the roadside motels, small towns and other places they had been staying in. After awhile the time he spent furiously scribbling in his journals went down too. 

She watched Edward nervously, waiting for a response. 

“I hadn’t thought of that as an option.” He answered, simply. —------------------------------------

5 years later.  

Edward finished plotting out where the new crops would go in their garden in his notebook. It was already quite large, but he wanted to try some new varieties. He walked over to his herb garden and picked out some basil and oregano for dinner tonight, before heading back to the house. 

Y/N was there on the porch, curled up with their dog on the porch swing. She had fallen asleep reading her book. He crouched down in front of the swing, petting his dog behind his ears before gently brushing his hand down Y/N’s arm. 

“Angel?” 

She stirred, looking at Edward sleepily, “hmmm?” 

“Let’s go inside, I’m going to get dinner started.”

She nodded and stretched, and the dog hopped off the swing and waited at the screen door eagerly. 

“Rubiks seems ready to go in, aren’t you Rubiks? You’re sooo ready!” Edward giggled, letting him inside before reaching out a hand to pull Y/N to him to give her a kiss and hug before heading in with her.

Once inside Y/N went over to the couch and put in a movie, cozying up to wait while Edward worked on their dinner. They had found this house several years ago. It had been a bit barren at the time but over the years they filled it with books and plants and art. Outside of the home, there were lots of flowers and gardens due to Edward’s meticulous work. 

He loved different types of plants and learning about how best to grow them. How much light? How much water? What type of soil? Some species grew better next to other species, some would die without extremely specific conditions and others would grow like weeds if left unchecked. 

His thoughts drifted back to his wife on the couch. He had grown better next to her, and the life they had created together was better than anything he could have imagined. 

It had been hard, giving it all up at first. His mind worked differently than others. He had a tendency to obsess, fixate and plot. To linger in the darkest corners of his mind for longer than anyone should. He had the need to look for patterns, to seek out problems and try to solve them. To find some meaning of why he was in the world.

But she had always been there for him every step of the way, and just as equally, he had been there for her as well. It was harder, living in the country, to find adequate care, but he never stopped searching for the best doctors for her. And eventually they found one that worked. It was still hard for her sometimes, she was still chronically ill, but they found a better way to work with it.

She had even found a job in their town working for the local newspaper. She could work from home easily, editing the layouts for them each week. He had told her she didn’t have to work if she didn’t want to—he made enough money for both of them, but she liked having something to do and loved being part of the community again. 

The newspaper job wasn’t very demanding, so she spent her extra time making lots of art, and planning out trips for the two of them. They traveled together a lot when they were able to. 

And being out of the city and the stress of his.. previous lifestyle.. had helped significantly with her health as well. 

At first he had struggled with the change. When they decided not to return to Gotham, he couldn’t help thinking, what good was he for if he wasn’t fixated on the corruption that had destroyed him? But it turns out he had been wrong about two key things. First, that he hadn’t been destroyed, only changed, and that he had inherent worth as a person.

Secondly, there were better things to focus on, other than revenge. Like his wife. Or their dog. Or his gardens outside, or his job as a land surveyor and farm accountant, or looking up new recipes to try and new ways to cook for both of them. There had been a whole world outside of his head that he had barely been aware of before. 

It was still hard some days, for both of them, but the biggest difference now was that they were both safe. 

They had their own home that they created, and a place to belong.

[squoxle]

No Guidance ~ Wonbin ff

🎧pairing: Wonbin!best-friend's-brother x Reader!afab | 🎧wc: 5.9k | 🎧summary: Even though your best friend, Minji, told you that her older brother Wonbin was "Off Limits," that didn't stop you from getting what you wanted. But now that you've done the deed, can you keep your dirty little secret safe? Or will all hell break loose? |🎧cw: slow burn, angst, fluff, crack, smut (mostly kissing, grinding, and fingering), mentions of protected sex, shower sex

Part 1 << ⭐️ >>Part 3

You woke up early the next morning to the sound of the comforter rustling. You were barely able to grasp the fact that you not only woke up next to your best friend’s brother but that you also had sex with him last night.

Was this what you wanted? Yes. But not under these circumstances. “Mmm fuck,” Wonbin groaned as he rolled over to check his phone that was buzzing likecrazy under his pillow. Before you could say anything he had already balled up a pair of clothes and rushed off to the bathroom.

All you could do now is pray that he kept his damn mouth shut...

It was a little after 6:15 am when Wonbin started moving around. As badly as you wanted to talk to him about it, he had already jumped in and out of the shower and left with nothing but a leather jacket, a black beanie, and—of course—his iconic silver headphones. The last thing you heard were the sound of his keys jangling and the front door slamming.

Instead of staying in his bedroom, you thought it would be a better idea to go sit on the couch in the living room. The greatest perk being that it’ll hopefully divert any negative attention. You had to keep a level head. If you were acting suspicious, you looked suspicious.

Unable to fight back sleep, you ended up dozing off again. You woke up a couple hours later to the sound of hushed laughter that was coming from—not to your surprise—Minji and her boyfriend.

“You should probably stop watching me and watch the food instead,” he chuckled from afar.

“Aish! I know what I’m doing,” she spat.

“Really? Because the stack of burnt pancakes you catapulted into the bin say otherwise.”

“Those were test pancakes. No one ever eats them anyway.”

“Especially not when they’re burnt to a crisp,” he smirked.

“Psh, you know nothing about cooking. This is a woman’s job anyway.”

“Oh? So you can make sexist jokes but I can’t?”

“Yup, because you’re a man and I’m a woman. Therefore, as the object of most criticism, I cannot be sexist.”

“Okay, just because you say ‘therefore’ doesn’t mean you’re—nothing…nevermind.”

“No, tell me. It doesn’t mean I’m what?”

“It doesn’t mean that you’re smart,” he smiled nervously. “Wait, what’s that smell?” He asked as the faint scent of smoke thickened.

“Oh shit,” she sighed, the sound of sizzling oil crackling as she ran water on the pan. “This is all your fault,” she chuckled, cornering himself against the countertop.

“How is this my fault? You burned them,” he smiled.

“You distracted me,” she said poking his nose.

“I told you to focus.”

“No you didn’t,” she replied quickly.

“Yes I did. I said stop watching me and watch your food,” he chuckled as Minji threw her head back, remembering that he had in fact told her to pay attention.

“Hmph, whatever. I’m a baker anyways. Not the Pancake House version of SpongeBob,” she shrugged before returning back to the sink.

“I’ll cook the rest of the pancakes,” Sungchan said as he walked over to clean the pan before placing it back on the burner.

Minji washed her hands before walking around the counter to see that you were awake.

“Hey! Good morning. Sorry about last night. We ended up falling asleep,” she said, rubbing your shoulder.

“Ehh it’s alright. So did I,” you reassured her.

“Damn, my brother must’ve been pretty bad if you had to sleep in here,” she said, looking at you snuggled under the white blanket you had wrapped around you.

“Heh, he wasn’t too bad,” you replied. You saw this as a way out and you were not passing it up. If she thought you slept on the sofa, then that’s exactly what you did…as far as she knows.

“I’m guessing he left already too huh?”

“Yeah, he did. Where’d he go anyway?”

“Work, I’d assume. He’s the one paying for this place. I just take care of the little bills like internet and stuff.”

“Breakfast is served,” Sungchan beamed as he walked over to the couch carrying a tray with a bottle of syrup, two forks, three extra plate, three cups of milk (one chocolate for Minji), and one big stack of pancakes.

“Omg finally!” Minji exclaimed. “I was starving to death over here.”

You all took turns grabbing your serving of hot, fluffy pancakes. What shocked you the most though was how Sungchan at his pancakes. Now you understood why there were only two forks.

He folded the pancake like a taco, holding the sweet, sticky syrup inside.

“I know what you’re thinking ‘what the fuck is wrong with that guy?’ Short answer. He’s crazy,” Minji said as she bit into a forkful of pancakes. “It’s even worse when he does it in public,” she rolled her eyes.

“I don’t do it all the time,” he smiled. “And for the record, you’re the crazy one,” he chuckled as Minji flashed him a dirty look.

After breakfast, Sungchan cleaned the dishes before heading out.

“Sorry for crashing your girl’s night again,” he apologized to you both before walking up to Minji and hugging her from behind. “I love you, Mimi. I’ll call you tonight okay,” he kissed her cheek.

“Hmm, okayyyy. I love you too. And thank you for making breakfast for us,” she smiled.

“Well, one day, you’re gonna be doing it for the rest of your life.”

“What are you talking about ‘one day’?” She asked, turning around.

“When we’re married, duh. After college of course.”

“Oh right,” she chuckled nervously. “I keep forgetting about that,” she smiled before rubbing her head.

“Alright well I gotta go now,” he kissed her forehead. “Bye!”

“Bye,” you both said in unison. You didn't really talk much whenever Sungchan was over, not because you were nervous, but because you didn't really know what to say. They we already an entertaining pair

You planned to hang around for the rest of the day, there wasn't much else to do anyway, but mainly because you were waiting for Wonbin to come back home. Of course, Minji didn't mind, she loved your company. Plus she considered this a redemption for last night.

"Chocolate chip this time," she smiled as she placed the freshly baked cookies on the table. "We don't have to worry about dinner either. Wonie said he's bringing home pizza," she said before grabbing a cookie and taking a bite.

"What time is he coming home?" you asked.

"Should be sometime after 5. He doesn't have to work overnight today," she replied as she picked up the tv remote. "Music videos, cooking videos, ASMR, or our show?" she mumbled scrolling through the options.

"Let's just continue our show," you suggested.

"I agree. Let's do that. Otherwise, I'll be scrolling the entire time."

"Umm, where does Wonbin work anyway?"

"Hmm, you sure are asking a lot of questions about my brother...you're thinking the unspeakable are you?"

"What??"

"Are you trying to get closer to him?"

"No! No! I was just curious, that's all," you said trying to save yourself. She wasn't wrong. You were asking a lot of questions. Luckily you didn't ask every single one out loud.

"You know I think of you as a sister. So seeing you with my older brother is EXTREMELY disturbing. Borderline incest--"

"Oh come on, that's ridiculous."

"Look, I love you, but you really can't date him okay. I know I told you all of that crazy stuff before, so now I'll tell you the real reason I said he sucks."

"And why's that?"

"As far as I know, my brother has been in several relationships. And they all ended for the same reason. My brother likes new and exciting things, but the second they start getting old, he's bored."

"Okay, that's good to know, but I'm not interested in him," you lied.

"____, I know you like him. That's why I'm telling you this. No girl has been able to keep my brother's attention for longer than 2 months. I don't wanna see you get your heart broken."

"I won't."

"Please, just leave him alone okay. I don't care about those strangers, but I care about you. You're my best friend."

"Okay," you sighed. "I will leave him alone."

"Thank you," Minji said before hugging you. "Now, let's watch our show."

You and Minji resumed your teenage soap opera while you waited for Wonbin to bring home pizza. Lunch was substituted by a cup of iced coffee with a scoop of ice cream of course.

Though you tried your best to focus on the show, Wonbin plagued your thoughts. Everytime you saw Minji pull out her phone, your heart nearly pounded out of your chest.

Did he tell her?

Does she know I’m lying?

She’ll hate me if she finds out what we did…

*knock knock knock*

Is he home already?

“Don’t worry about that, it’s probably a package or something,” Minji said as your eyes darted to the door.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m waiting on something for my older brother,” she said before turning back to press play. “My other older brother, Seonghwa. It’s a gift for some ceremony he's being honored at. I can't really remember what for.”

“Oh—“

*knock knock knock*

“Open the door Minnie! I’m freezing my dick off out here,” you heard Wonbin shout from the other side of the door.

“Shit,” she cursed under her breath. “Coming!” She yelled as she walked over to unlock the door.

“I didn’t expect him to be home so early,” you said as she double checked by looking through the window.

“Yeah…neither did I,” she huffed before lugging the door open. “Where’s the pizza,” she asked as Wonbin came in empty handed.

“I left my wallet in my room, which also had my key in it. Hence, the reason for me knocking. So I ordered the pizza over the phone and I’ll pay for it when the guy gets here,” he said taking off his beanie and shaking his head.

“Eww. Don’t do that you fucking dog. I don’t want your fleas,” she said, leaning back to avoid the imaginary bugs jumping from Wonbin’s head.

“Relax. If any of us has something contagious it would be you,” he smirked as he stepped out of his shoes. “Anyways, the pizza should be here in about 20 minutes. If I’m not out by then, knock on the door and I’ll tell you where the money is.”

“Hmm…okay,” Minji shrugged as Wonbin walked off to his room.

For the most part, the rest of the night went normal. But after dinner you knew you needed to talk to Wonbin…alone. So, when Minji went to the bathroom you moved quickly and didn’t waste a second beating around the bush.

“Did you tell your sister we had sex?”

“What?”

“I said, did you tell your sister we had sex?”

“No, why? Would you like me to tell her?”

“No, you can’t tell her anything about that. She’ll be so fucking pissed that she’d probably never talk to me again.”

“Relax, I didn’t plan on telling her anyway. My sex life is none of her business. But, now that you mention it...maybe I should tell her," he teased. But the look on your face said everything he needed to know. You were really scared about losing your friend.

"I'm back bitches. Miss me?" Before you or Wonbin could say another word, Minji came bouncing in the kitchen. "What's going on in here," she raised her eyebrow, sensing the tense atmosphere.

"Nothing, I was just leaving," you said as you gave her a little side hug.

"Wait? What? Why," she sighed.

"It's getting late and I got some things I need to work on at home."

"Hmm, okayyy," she hummed.

"Goodnight, Minji," you smiled, blowing her a kiss that she dramatically acted out catching before clasping her hands together and holding them to her chest.

"Actually, I'm gonna head out for a bit too," Wonbin added as you headed through the door.

"Ahhh! Are you kidding me? Now I'm gonna be all alone?" Minji whined.

"Call your boyfriend," Wonbin chimed as the two of you walked out together. "Bye! Love you," He said before closing the door right as she spat out the most genuine 'fuck you' you'd ever heard.

He followed you to his car which was parked near the bottom of the staircase. "Do you need a ride?"

"No, I'm gonna wait for a friend," you said before pulling out your phone.

"You sure? I don't mind bringing you home."

To be completely honest, it didn't take much convincing to get you into his car. Most of the ride was quiet aside from the mellow tone music that played in the background.

"Didn't you have somewhere to go?" you asked as you pulled up to your house.

"No, I just lied so I could get out of the house with you. After all, we're supposed to be a secret," he smirked.

Did he just say we?

"Heh, right," you chuckled.

"I was only teasing earlier," he said as he parked in your driveway. "I want this too," he smiled.

No fucking way was this actually happening right now.

He leaned over to kiss you on the cheek. "Goodnight, babe," he smiled.

"G-goodnight," you stuttered as you climbed out of the car.

Is he really as bad as Minji says he is? Or is she just saying that to scare you away.

"Hey," you heard him shout as you closed the door.

"What?"

"How am I gonna call you without your number?" he smirked before leaning over the seat to pass you his phone through the window. You typed it in before handing it back to him.

He smiled and rolled the window back up as you walked to your door, but he waited until you were inside to drive away.

After spending all that time away from home, you needed to wash up before you went to bed. So you took a quick 15-minute shower while you thought about Wonbin.

Were you guys official now? Or was this just a friends with benefits type thing? You didn’t know for sure.

“I’ll just ask him sometime tomorrow,” you muttered to yourself as you climbed in bed.

*Ring Ring*

Your phone rang from under your pillow. It was a series of numbers that you didn't recognize. But you answered it anyway.

“Who could be calling at this hour?” You thought to yourself before speaking.

"Hello?"

"I couldn't go to sleep without saying I love you," what surprised you more than hearing Wonbin's voice was what he said to you.

"I love you too," you smiled.

"Hmm, I wish I could see that pretty smile of yours," he whispered.

"Huh? How'd you know I'm smiling," you lightly chuckled.

"Because I'm hiding in your closet."

"What?"

"I'm joking. But I can hear it in your voice. I just wish you were falling asleep next to me tonight," he hummed.

"Yeah, me too."

"Well, I'm gonna let you go to sleep now."

"Okay, goodnight Wonbin."

"Goodnight."

You hadn't slept this good in a long time. However, the constant buzzing of your phone woke you up earlier than you wanted. You pulled your phone out from under your pillow to see that Minji was calling.

"Umm, hello?" you grumbled.

"Wake up girlie! We're going on a date," Minji chimed.

"A date? What date? With who?"

"Sungchan and one of his friends. He's really sweet and I think you'll like him a lot more than my asshat of a brother, Wonbin,” the disgust in her voice when she said his name was almost to perfect to be a joke.

"Ugh...what time is it?" You groaned.

"Time for you to get your ass up. Duh! We're going out for lunch."

You pulled the phone away from your ear to see that it was 20 minutes from 10 and apparently your idea of early was a lot later than most people.

"Sungchan and I are coming to pick you up in an hour."

"What--"

"Hurry up and get pretty!"

"Minji--"

"Mwah! Bye!"

"Wait--"

"Love you!"

"Ah--" the sound of the call ending confirmed your attendance on this mandatory blind date.

An hour later at 11 o’clock, Minji and Sungchan pulled up to your house. Minji actually called you 10 minutes ahead to make sure you were ready on time.

*HONK HONK*

You nearly forgot to lock the door as you saw Minji lean across the seat to blow the horn. You hadn't seen her this excited about going somewhere since that one time you and a few other friends snuck into a college party...courtesy of her boyfriend.

"Get in loser! We're going shopping," she smiled as you rolled your eyes at her cheesy acting. "What? I always wanted to say that. We are going to the mall though," she continued as you climbed in the backseat. "I hope you're excited," she turned around, watching you buckle your seatbelt.

"Hey, don't get her hopes up," Sungchan said as he rolled backward down your driveway. "He's a great guy and everything, but you might be putting him higher than he really is."

"Hmm, you might be right. But he's definitely better than my older brother. That's for sure," she said before readjusting herself in the seat.

To be honest with yourself, you were excited to meet this guy. But after last night you didn't know if you could fully commit. Still, you made a promise to yourself that you would try. If not for yourself, at least for Minji. You knew she'd be a lot more welcoming to whoever this guy was than her brother.

When you guys finally made it to the mall, Sungchan pulled out his phone to call his friend as soon as you guys walked it.

"I'm not really sure where he is. So, I'd rather just call him and ask than take a guess and end up walking around for an hour," he said as the phone rang. "Hey, man. Yeah, we just made it here. We're looking for you. Hmm, okay. Alright, bye," Sungchan said before ending the call. "He's near the food court," he said as he tucked his phone away.

The two of you followed him to meet his mysterious dark-haired friend. On the way over, you asked a few questions to get an idea of who he was. Apparently, he was just a few months older than Sungchan. Almost the same height, is interested in acting, and--according to Minji--has super big eyes.

He honestly didn't seem bad, so you tried to keep an open mind.

"Eunsoek, this is ____," Sungchan said, introducing you to his friend.

Yup, he definitely had really big eyes like Minji said. And even though you just met him, you could tell that he was a decent person. On this little mall double date, you learned that he was in school to be an actor, but his hobbies included almost anything artistically creative you could think of. He showed you a few sketches he was working on and swore that one day you had to try his cooking.

Sungchan even chimed in, saying that he almost cooked better than his mom. You almost completely forgot about Wonbin whenever Eunsoek smiled at you. He was just so sweet and charming. He also bought you a slushie from this place that you couldn't remember the name of to save your life.

After the date he offered to give you a ride home, which you declined ONLY because you guys just met today. But you promised that next time he could as long as it wasn't too late. When Minji and Sungchan finally dropped you off at home...there was only one thing on your mind.

You had to decide who you were going to fully commit to. Wonbin or Eunsoek.

Pro: Minji will accept and support your relationship with Eunsoek.

Con: You didn't know about his dating history.

Pro: Minji will hate you for dating her brother and you'll probably never be happy because of it.

Con: You did know Wonbin's dating history and it didn't sound very good.

Pro: Eunsoek is super sweet and charming, and you could really see yourself being happy with him, but...

Con: You wanted Wonbin.

You had to ask Wonbin one question that would determine your next move. "What are we?" you asked when he called you sometime before 11pm.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I want to know if you plan on ever being in a relationship with me. Like officially," your heart pounded in your chest as you awaited a response.

"I mean, yeah. Obviously, but it's kinda hard with my sister being against it and all."

"Hmm, yeah. You're right," you sighed. Maybe it was best to focus on Eusoek.

"But, I wouldn't mind sneaking around."

Or maybe not.

For the next two weeks, you and Wonbin would exchange lingering looks at each other whenever you met. Making out whenever Minji left the room, but it seemed like the hot excitement was dying quicker than you expected. You had to do something and fast. You didn't want to lose him. So when Minji asked if you wanted to hang out, you told her you were busy and convinced her to go on a date with Sungchan.

As soon as she left, you made your way over there as soon as possible.

*Knock Knock Knock*

You knocked on the door as Wonbin opened up. "What are you doing here?" he asked, eyes widening in surprise as you walked in. "My sister isn't here right now," he said scanning your body.

"I know. I came over to see you," you smiled softly as his lips formed into a smirk.

"I'm not even gonna ask how you got here," he said before pulling you in for a kiss.

"Don't worry," you started as his lips cut you off. "I caught an Uber," Wonbin pulled back, holding both of your hands before leading you to his room. A place oh too familiar to you by now. This was the first time you'd been in his bed since that night and god did you miss it.

He climbed onto the bed, bracing his back against the headboard as you straddled him. He placed his warm, delicate hands under your shirt, gripping your waist as he met your lips in hot, messy kisses.

You could feel how bad he wanted you as he thrust his hips against you. "God, you're so fucking sexy," he groaned as you slowly began grinding against his growing hard-on. "You're making me wanna tie you to this bed and fuck you so hard that you beg me to stop," he said as he moved his hands down to your hips, encouraging them to move faster, his soft moans filled your ears as he moved down to kiss your neck.

He pulled away to look at you with those lustful doe eyes as he pulled your shirt off, throwing it across the room, landing by the closet door, exposing your violet underwire bra. Without hesitation, he unhooked your bra, dropping it to the floor, and revealing your bare tits. He pulled your tit into his mouth and began eagerly leaving marks and trails of saliva all over you.

You moaned at the sensation of his intense sucking. You watched as he looked at you with drunken eyes as he begged for more. He stuck two fingers into your mouth and watched as your lips wrapped around them. He slowly dragged them out before shoving them down into your panties, gliding them between your sticky folds.

He massaged your clit before pulling his fingers out to suck your wetness. "Mmm, you taste so fucking good," he said before sliding back in to finger you. The sounds of your pussy making sloppy sounds as he bit his lower lip. You squirmed as he finger fucked you, your body being fully supported by his arm wrapped securely around your figure. You moaned as he pressed in harder.

"Fuck," he spat as you came close to orgasming, yanking his fingers out.

"Wha--"

"Shhh," he said shoving a finger against your lips, cutting you off. "I think my sister just came in," he whispered as the both of you listened quietly.

"Wonbin?" you heard Minji call out as she knocked on the door. "What's all that noise? Do you have a girl over?"

"Shit," he bit his lip as he lifted you off of his body. "No! I'm watching midget porn," he yelled as Minji cringed behind the door. "You gotta hide. Now," he said as he walked you over to the closet, shoving you against the rack filled with clothes. You barely squeezed in before Minji opened the door

"The fuck happened to you?" Minji asked as she met Wonbin at the door with his hair a mess and sweat sticking his bangs to his forehead.

"Umm--" he stammered before he was cut off by Minji pushing her way through.

"I don't even wanna know. Let's just agree that you really enjoy midget porn," she grinned as she walked to his bed. At this point, you could see her black hair swaying as she moved around. "I thought you said you didn't have a girl over," she spat as she picked up your bra from the floor.

"Uhh. It's mine," he lied.

"Right," she scoffed. "You couldn't fit this if you wanted to," she rolled her eyes. "Where is she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied again.

"Mhm. Is she hiding under the bed?" she asked as she bent down to look underneath his bed. Ironically, that was the first place you were gonna hide.

Wonbin remained silent until Minji said, "Oh, then she must be hiding in the closet," she grinned mischievously as she ran over to the closet. Your heart never thumped so hard against your chest in your life. She yanked at the door, nearly pulling it completely open, before Wonbin slammed it shut.

"What did you come in here for?" he asked standing in front of the door, sounding pretty pissed off.

"I left my charger in here yesterday and I need it now," she smiled placing her hands on her hips.

"Then get it and get the hell out," he spat as she walked over to pull it out of the wall.

"I thought you were on a date," he said as she headed out of his room.

"I was, but he had to go take care of something. He'll probably swing by later tho. Oh, and ____ too. He's bringing over some food for her to try. Anyways, I'll be in the living room. Have fun with your little minx," she snickered as she left.

"How am I supposed to get out of here now?" you asked as he opened the closet door. You put your clothes back on as you watched Wonbin pace around the room.

"I don't know...You'll probably have to sneak out through the window," he whispered as he looked around his room for something the use.

You started helping him by searching around his room. “Maybe we could use your bedsheets,” you suggested, hoping that he’d agree with your idea.

“Yeah, that should work,” he said before reaching over to grab the sheets off of his bed. He began tying them together as you struggled to open the window.

*RING RING, RING RING*

“Shhhh!” Wonbin said as the sound from your phone was louder than you expected.

“Sorry,” you winced. You frantically silenced the ringtone as your phone nearly bounced out of your hands.

“Who is it?” He asked in a hushed tone.

You managed to get a grip on the slick device before looking to see who was calling.

“Minji,” you gasped showing him your phone. “I have to answer it,” you wined.

“No you don’t.”

“If I don’t she’ll think something is up,” you said as you clicked the green button.

Wonbin lugged the knotted sheet out of the window as you climbed on the sill. “Hey,” you nervously chimed.

“Hey girl. What are you up to right now? Did you finish whatever it was that you were doing?”

“Umm…not exactly. But what are you doing?”

“Eating popcorn chicken while I listen to my brother wrestle trying to sneak some girl out. See, I told you he’s a hop around.”

“Oh wow. That’s crazy,” you said breathlessly climbing down the makeshift rope.

“Wait, where are you? I hear a lot of wind.”

"Oh, umm...my window is open. I'm trying to--ugh--clean my room," you grunted as you fell to the ground.

"Hmm...It's pretty cold outside to just have your window open like that," she mumbled as she chewed.

"Ehh it's alright, I'm super hot anyways," you said looking up to see Wonbin aggressively pointing to the stairs. "What?" you whispered, waving your hands around.

"GO. TO. THE. CAR," he whisper-yelled.

"Did you say something?" Minji asked as she faintly heard the whispering.

"Umm, no," you answered quickly. "If anything, that was probably my neighbors or something. My window's open. Remember?" you said as you climbed over the bushes that sat outside of the complex.

"Hold on, I'm gonna go scare my brother again," Minji chuckled as you heard her get up before running to his room and pushing the door open. She saw Wonbin standing near the window, desperately pulling the sheets up as she laughed before running to the window, catching a small glimpse at your figure as you ran away.

"How many times do I have to tell you to GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE?!" you heard Wonbin shout as he pulled his sister away from the window before slamming it shut.

He pushed her out of the room before grabbing his keys and walking to the door. You were busy catching your breath as Minji entertained herself.

*BEEP BEEP*

"Hmm...that's strange," Minji said softly.

"What is?"

"I heard the car horn coming from your end of the phone too."

"Oh, that's because I have you on speaker," you lied. You had never lied to your friend so much before in your life.

"Oh, okay--"

"Well, I gotta go now. I'm almost finished. I'll call you after I'm done okay."

"Okay, but wait."

"What?"

"Me and Sungchan are coming to pick you up later."

"I know," you said out of instinct before hitting yourself on the head for nearly exposing yourself.

Fuck...

"You know? How?"

"No, uhh I'm just guessing because you seem to want to hang out tonight."

Nice save, dumbass.

"Oh...umm...okay. Well, see ya."

"Bye," you chimed before ending the call.

Minji still felt suspicious about this situation. Something just didn't seem right. You were lying about something. But what could it be?

Later that night Minji and Sungchan came to pick you up. The ride was dry and stale. You felt like a child in the backseat watching your parents have a conversation that you weren't supposed to hear. The two went back and forth whispering until Sungchan finally said, "Just let it go alright."

Whatever they were talking about must've upset Minji. She didn't say another word until you made it to the apartment. Minji opened the door as Sungchan placed the bags of food-packed containers on the countertop.

"So what's in the bag?" you said trying to break the silence.

"Oh Eunsoek couldn't wait for you to try his cooking, so he made dinner for us," Sungchan said as he looked over to Minji who was wearing a smug expression. "I'll put it on the plates for everyone, let me just go ask Wonbin if he wants any," he said before giving Minji a look that probably meant 'get your act together' or 'stop being silly.' But why?

Sungchan came back a few seconds later with Wonbin. You immediately put your head down, afraid that looking at him would put your thoughts all over your face.

"The food looks good," Wonbin said as Sungchan gave everyone a plate with rice, veggies, and chicken. There were also some sauces on the table to eat with it. "It smells good too," he smiled. "Who made it?"

"Eunsoek, one of my friends. He and ____ are probably gonna end up dating or something. He just can't stop talking about her," Sungchan's words caused Wonbin's smile to crinkle at the ends as he thought about what he said.

"Yeah, he wants to take her out on a date again soon," Minji added looking at you and Wonbin.

"Well, you can tell him I said thanks. I'm gonna head out for a bit," he said before getting up to wrap his plate up and placing it in the fridge.

You bit your lip to stop yourself from calling out his name. You wanted him more than anything...

"Ugh...thank god he's finally gone," Minji sighed.

"I don't know if you're upset about Wonbin having another girl over, but you shouldn't be. Like Mimi told you, this is the way he's always been," Sungchan said trying to comfort you.

"Exactly, and Eunsoek actually wants to be with you," Minji added.

You tried your best to look happy as you ate Eunsoek's surprisingly good food. But you couldn't shake Wonbin. Was he hurt? Did he hate the fact that another guy was interested in you? Was he jealous?

*zzt zzt*

Your phone buzzed as you saw a notification from Wonbin pop up.

[ 4 unread messages : Wonbunny ]…

ur keeping secrets now huh?

what r u doing? trying to make me jealous?

i wonder how much ur other boyfriend would like to see me fucking ur brains out

maybe we should make a video...tonight

Delivered 9:57pm

You quickly replied to his messages, trying your best to keep the smile off of your face.

i'll try to get out of here after we finish dinner

i'll text u after they drop me off

Sent 9:58pm

It wasn't long before Wonbin replied back saying a simple,

k

To no one's surprise, the two of you had sex as soon as he entered your house. This was the first time he had been there but he made sure to fuck you on every surface.

You felt like he was draining the life out of you while he fucked you till he was satisfied. Especially when he came all inside of you. This time he remembered to wear a condom, but you could still feel the warmth as he filled you up. He had scratches all over his back from you.

He ended up falling asleep in bed with you, but not without whispering, "You're mine" in your ear as you fell asleep.

It almost felt like endless honeymoon fucking when he woke up the next morning eager for a round two. Then lazy fucking in the shower, before you got a text from Minji saying that you were going on a movie date tonight.

Wonbin seemed to be taking a lot of interest in you, but are his feelings genuine. Or is he just fighting for the thrill that comes with being with you? He told you to keep seeing Eunsoek as a cover, but Wonbin would always be your number one. The cycle of emotional manipulation in this chaotic love triangle is insane.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @addictedtohobi @chaenqen @nikisdubblchococake @mrswolfhard3 @hynjinnn1 @melobin @laylasbunbunny @urfavberry

[fallenseptemberleaves]

Yes! I totally agree! (Eddie marching over when Taylor appears lives in my head rent free lol.) Eddie has a huge effect on Buck’s relationship with Taylor.

Eddie’s effect and his parallels with Taylor are huge in 5B.

5x11 - Buck does not blow up his life (cheat on Taylor, invite her to move in) until he learns that Eddie might not be coming back to the 118. Yes, he’s in a bad place with Maddie and Chim gone, but it’s not until after the dinner scene that he starts self-sabotaging.

5x13 - Frank tells Eddie, “You can’t put all of your feelings in a box . . . That box is gonna blow open and [take] you and anyone else around you [with it].” In the next scene, Taylor and Buck are unpacking boxes. Eddie bottling his emotions results in Chris calling Buck for help, and Buck boxing away the truth from Taylor also leads to contention.

5x13 - Buck tells Taylor that he kissed someone. When Taylor leaves, Buck asks, “Are you gonna come back?” and Taylor says, “Of course. I don’t have anywhere else to go. You made sure of that.” This conversation echos the kitchen convo from 5x11. While Buck’s unable to stop Eddie from leaving the 118, he prevents Taylor from fully leaving by preemptively having her move in. He also plainly asks if she’s coming back, something he’s only hinted at asking with Eddie.

5x13 - Eddie is finally honest with Buck. He brushed off Buck’s concerns in 5x11, but now he finally tells Buck the truth: he’s afraid that he’s never gonna feel normal again. Eddie’s confession echos Taylor and Buck’s conversation two scenes earlier: “So no more lies?” Taylor asks, and Buck says, “I swear.” Buck and Taylor promise to be honest with one another going forward, but Eddie is the first one we see act on that promise.

5x14 - Taylor tries to get an interview with Lucy through Buck. Buck says no and then asks Taylor for a favor: finding the kid from 4x13 for Eddie. (Also, Buck’s inspired to do so in the first place because of Lucy’s arc in this episode.)

5x16 - During Lucy and Taylor’s showdown (which, as you said, Buck talks to Eddie during), Taylor says, “When things get messy at the 118, [Buck] falls apart.” While Taylor is threatening Lucy not to make problems, the line also refers to Eddie’s absence. Once again, Buck didn’t blow up his life until he learned that Eddie may never be coming back to the 118.

5x17 - Eddie goes to his father’s retirement party, and Taylor breaks the news. In both of these storylines, Buck is powerless. He can’t stop Eddie from fighting with his father, and he can’t stop Taylor from betraying him and his friends. (He also doesn’t help with the initial investigation at all, just supplies the coffee lol.)

5x18 - Ravi’s infamous line—"I mean, isn't that all we want in a partner? Knowing that they have your back?" This line echos Buck and Eddie’s promise in 2x1, sending our minds to that relationship; however, Buck thinks of Taylor, saying, “Yeah, until they stick a knife in it.” Like you said, the phrase “have my/your back” has been used for Buck and Eddie’s relationship, Shannon and Eddie’s romantic relationship, Taylor and Buck’s romantic relationship.

5x18 - Buck breaks up with Taylor, which seems to conflict with all the other scenes this episode. When Buck and Eddie fix Eddie’s wall, Eddie knows that Buck is a fixer. Buck even says, “Yeah, yeah. I know I’m the guy that always wants to fix everything,” implying he wants to fix things with Taylor. Then when Maddie and Buck talk about love (with Buck wearing a red jacket eerily similar to that he wears during Eddie’s breakdown) , Buck says, "Is that really love? Right? Shouldn't it be when you're at your worst, they're at their worst, you have every reason to give up, and you still decide you want to try again?” Buck and Taylor have been at their worsts this season: they both lied and went behind each other’s backs. Shouldn’t Buck want to try again then? But no. Buck breaks up with Taylor. Instead, the love that Buck describes to Maddie is the kind that him and Eddie share, especially seen in this season.

No but why was Buck the literal counterweight to every single relationship issue Eddie’s had with his exes?

Shannon says he didn’t have her back > Eddie and Buck promise to have each other’s backs almost immediately

Eddie doesn’t want to let Shannon back into Chris’s life on Christmas > Buck and Eddie take Chris to see Santa instead and get confused for a couple

Eddie blows up at Ana over the skateboard accident > Buck helps him build a special skateboard for Chris

Christopher throws a tantrum over Eddie dating Ana > he runs off to Buck’s loft and opens up to him

Eddie is freaked out by Ana being mistaken for Chris’s mom > Eddie just revealed that he made Buck Chris’s legal guardian

Eddie is in denial over having a panic attack because of Ana > Buck finds out about it and gets him to be honest with himself

Eddie tells Ana to go home after she stays over with Christopher during a crisis > he thanked Buck for doing exactly that after the shooting

Eddie has anxiety about going on a blind date > he literally just took Buck out on a surprise poker night

I’m just saying. You can’t make this shit up. At this point it’s painfully obvious.

[messers-moony]

Home | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Fem!Reader

Summary: Five goes through everything with his best friend, and when they return with the announcement of their marriage his siblings are appalled. 

Request: “I can request a FiveXreader where the reader is loving, sweet and naive, Five's best friend but the reader has no powers (You can invent a way how they became best friends and they are in love with each other, cliché but I love) One day the reader was sitting in front of the Umbrella Academy and saw Five leave in a hurry (The scene that he will travel in time) In this the reader does not abandon Five and decides to travel in time with him, they end up trapped in the apocalylipse, can you make them stay together?  (Like married I don't know) And also the scene where they go back to 2019? Sorry, if this so bored”

Five couldn’t believe his eyes. After a failed mission, he and his siblings decided to sneak out. Klaus had spotted a park on the way home, and that’s where they went. For the first time in years, they felt like kids again. They were all ten years old and had never experienced a playground before. Allison had never laughed as much, and Diego seemed to finally forget his insecurities while swinging from monkey bars. 

Even on occasion, Luther would help Ben cross the monkey bars. Vanya was finally included, and Klaus had never seemed so carefree in his life. But Five had his eyes on someone else. She sat at one of the navy blue tables, quite a ways away from the playground, watching the siblings with a soft smile on her face. A notebook was in front of her while she twirled a pencil in her hand. 

Curiosity killed the cat. Five was too intrigued not to sit with her. So despite this probably being the only time he could experience a playground, he sat in front of her, obscuring her vision from his other six siblings. Her eyes met green ones; they looked evergreen in the dark of the night. His hair almost looked black, but she knew it had to be dark brown. 

“Good evening.” Her voice, it sounded like heaven to him, “Evening.”

It felt awkward, and the silence could’ve been cut with a knife, “My names Y/n.”

“Five.”

“Five? That’s unique.” Y/n complimented, and his cheeks flushed, “Thanks….” 

Her vision went back to the other kids, “You’d think they’ve never seen a playground before.”

“They haven’t.” Five stated, looking at his siblings, “Our father is strict, so we snook out to come here.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to come off as rude-“

“You didn’t.” Five smiled, looking at her e/c eyes. 

Since then, Five would sneak out a lot more. His power was a fantastic tool. When he and his siblings began to sneak out more, Five always invited her. Klaus, Diego, and Vanya seemed taken with her. Y/n was always so kind and sweet. Her laugh radiated, and it made everyone around her smile. It was like she was Aphrodite, and he was Ares. 

After becoming friends with the academy kids, Y/n had a habit of sitting outside the academy. She usually sat on the edge of the sidewalk with her notebook on her lap, pencil in hand. Five couldn’t remember a time when her hand wasn’t covered in graphite or ink from drawing. He adored it, though, because it was so her. It made him stare at his black pens, aimlessly smiling, knowing that she probably had the same color ink on her hand. 

Becoming friends with Five meant knowing his ambition. Five Hargreeves was driven by his goals and wanted to do them regardless of the consequence. So Y/n knew about his dream to time travel despite his father's wishes. On a gloomy day, Y/n sat on the sidewalk. The only thing drawing her from her daydream was the slam of a gate. 

“Five!”

He didn’t turn, “Five!”

Y/n grabbed his arm, “What’re you doing?”

“I’m- I’m going to time travel.” Five stated with that daze in his eyes, “And you need to stay here.”

“No! I’m not letting you go alone!” Y/n exclaimed incredulously, “Y/n, please.” Five pleaded. 

She shook her head, “Absolutely not. Either we go together, or we stay here together.”

“Fine.” Five reluctantly agreed, holding out his hand for her. 

Hesitantly Y/n slid her fingers through his. They were intertwining their hands together. Five was so focused on time-traveling correctly that he didn’t notice the pink flush on his best friend's face. But he did it, once and twice—finally a third time. Smoke clouded the area, and fire could be seen for miles. 

Y/n dropped his hand and covered her mouth. Five circled in his spot in shock. He felt nauseous and queasy. He couldn’t believe that he let this happen. He shouldn’t have pushed himself. They were stuck. Fucking hell, they were stuck, and he couldn’t do anything. Y/n ran back to the academy, and Five followed her. The h/c haired girl stared at what used to be the Umbrella Academy. Now in ruins. Five dropped to his knees, tears collecting in his eyes. 

“It’s- it’s gone….” 

Y/n hugged him tightly, “It’s okay, we’re going to be okay.”

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna be-“ 

Five didn’t get to finish his sentence. He pushed her away and threw up to the side. When he finished, Y/n took her jacket sleeve and wiped it around his mouth—gently combing his hair from his face. Y/n had never seen Five look so drained. Seeing her in front of him, taking care of him made him break. Five broke into sobs holding onto her like a lifeline. Y/n rubbed his back and held him just as tightly. 

“I’m here, Five. I’ll keep you safe.”

Being thirteen in an apocalypse seems like a death sentence, but when you grow up the way Five did, it’s more bearable. The first few months were awful. Searching for shelter, food, clothes. It was downright hell, but they made it through. On cold nights Five would hold her close to his chest, and on hot nights Y/n would always manage to get him cold water. 

Years passed, and their friendship turned into a relationship. They needed each other to survive, and they just needed each other. Five couldn’t be more grateful that she insisted on coming. He couldn’t imagine doing this alone. But now, he had his girlfriend leaning her head on his shoulder while watching the fire. His arm wrapped around her shoulder, leaving occasional kisses on her temple. 

“I couldn’t imagine this world without you.” Five confessed, “I couldn’t imagine my life without you.” Y/n challenged. 

He smirked, “Oh, really?” 

“Don’t let it go to your head, smartass.” Y/n snorted, “Too late, it’s already there, my love.” Five retorted. 

She kissed his cheek, “Love you.”

“Love you too, darling.” 

Five years later. They were twenty-five, and he wanted to make it official. It was a rather cold day wherever they were, and Five was holding her closer than ever. Y/n was shivering on the old mattress they had found. She was constantly snuggling closer to Five’s chest. They laid facing each other, and Y/n’s head was tucked under his chin. Five’s hand ran through her long hair - after being unable to cut it - soothing her nerves. 

“Marry me.”

“What?”

“I want you - Y/n - to marry me.” Five repeated, looking down at her.

Her teeth chattered, “Are you sure?”

“It’s not like there’s anyone else to choose from.”

Y/n glared playfully, and Five chuckled, “Asshole.”

“So, what do you say? Make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

“I say that if my fiancé doesn’t stop being an asshole, then I won't marry him.” Y/n retorted jokingly, “I love you too, pretty girl.” Five replied, smiling softly. 

He kissed her forehead and allowed her to muzzle closer into him. Gently he pulled the two plain rings he found. They were battered, of course, and the gold was dirty, but that didn’t matter. Five slipped the ring on her finger and his. Y/n placed a gentle kiss on his lips that he gladly returned. Sweet, soft, passionate, and full of love. A description of how she was. 

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” Five replied, “Now get some sleep.” 

Y/n was about to fall asleep when she heard Five mutter one last thing, “Y/n Hargreeves.”

29 years. 348 months. 1512 weeks. 10,585 days. Until a woman showed up in their shelter, offering them both a job. Five could remember pushing Y/n behind him defensively. The last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt in any interaction he had. The woman offered them a way home. Five turned to his wife, and she saw it. For the first time in forty-five years, she saw it. Hope. 

Y/n took Five’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. The softest smile crossed his features before agreeing with the woman’s offer where both of them became assassins—partners in crime. Nothing turned Five on more than seeing his wife fend for herself, and god, was she good at it. Y/n was so naive and innocent when she was ten. But now? At the age of fifty-six, she wasn’t that girl anymore. 

But when they reached the age of fifty-eight, Five finally found out the correct equation. They were at their last mission, make sure John F. Kennedy gets shot and everything goes to plan, but Five had different ideas. Taking Vanya’s book from his suitcase, he looked over the equations one last time. They were going back; Five would go home today. 

“Y/n.”

“Yes, love?”

Five sighed, “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“To go home.” 

Y/n’s smile was blissful; Five could’ve fainted on the spot, “Home?! Like- Like-“

“Home.” Five answered to his overjoyed wife. 

Y/n kissed him more passionately than ever. Five could feel her gratefulness in her kiss. His hands placed themselves on her waist, and hers were around his neck. God Five never wanted to forget this feeling. The feeling of his wife in his arms, kissing him as she would never get enough. When they pulled apart, Five opened the portal. Gripping her hand, they jumped through and landed on the leaf-filled ground in the icy rain. 

“Does anyone else see Little Number Five and Little Y/n, or is that just me?“ Klaus asked, not trusting his eyes; maybe it was an illusion from the drugs. 

Five and Y/n stood up. The first thing Y/n noticed was the ring on her finger was too big now. But Five looked down at the suit he had been wearing previously. The blazer now reached his knees instead of his waist, and Y/n’s shirt was hanging off one of her shoulders. Five and Y/n looked at each other. They were thirteen all over again. 

“Shit.” 

He grabbed Y/n’s hand and dragged her into the academy. Y/n had only been in the academy a handful of times before, and she usually was only allowed in Five’s room because she wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. His siblings followed aimlessly and took their spots at the table. 

“What’s the date? The exact date.” Five inquired, grabbing different things around the kitchen. 

“The 24th.”

“Of what?”

“March.”

“Good.”

Y/n took place beside him as Five began making a peanut butter marshmallow sandwich. The same snack he used to love as a kid. Y/n could remember him trying to eat it back at their apartment the commission provided them but complained it was too sweet. It seems that being in his teenage body again made him crave the sweetness of the snack. 

“So, are we gonna talk about just what happened?” Luther questioned, but no one answered, “It’s been 17 years.”

Five scoffed, “It’s been a lot longer than that.”

The same big spatial jumped behind Luther as he began to take marshmallows from the cabinet, “I haven’t missed that.” Luther murmured. 

“Where’d you two go?” Diego asked. 

“The future.” Y/n answered politely, “It’s shit, by the way.” Five added spatial jumping beside her again and gently kissing her cheek. 

The siblings stared in shock at Five’s sudden act of affection; Five could feel their eyes on him, “What?”

“You just kissed her.” Allison stated, “And?”

Allison didn’t say anything, “Is it a crime for me to kiss my wife or something?” Five asked agitatedly. 

“Wife?!”

“Yes, wife.” Five sighed. 

“Called it!” Klaus exclaimed. 

“I should’ve listened to the old man. You know, jumping through space is one thing.” Five began as he looked through the fridge, “Jumping through time is a toss of the dice.” 

He came back with peanut butter in his hand at the front of the table, his wife beside him; he took in the appearance of his siblings, “Nice dress.”

“Oh, well, Danke!” Klaus smiled. 

“Wait, how did you two get back?” Vanya questioned. 

“In the end, I had to project our consciousnesses forward into a suspended quantum state version of ourselves that exists across every possible instance of time.” 

Diego couldn’t wrap his head around it, “That makes no sense.”

Five went to remark, but Y/n cut him off, “It doesn’t have to. All that matters is that we’re back.”

“How long were you two there?” Luther queried, “Forty-Five years. Give or take.”

Everyone looked at the two teens in disbelief, “So what are you saying? That you’re 58?”

“Well, not exactly. Our consciences are 58, but it appears that our bodies are back to 13.” Y/n answered. 

“Wait, how does that even work?”

“It seems that Five might’ve gotten the equations wrong.” Y/n replied, and Five glared at her, “I’m not mad! I’m just happy we’re home. Appearance be damned.”

Five took notice of the newspaper in front of Y/n, “Guess I missed the funeral.”

“How’d you even know about that?” Luther inquired, “What part of the future do you not understand?” Five retorted. 

“Heart failure?” Y/n asked, “Yeah/No.” Luther and Diego contradicted. 

Five clicked his tongue, “Nice to see nothings changed.”

The teenage boy began to walk away, “Uh, that’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Allison questioned.

“What else is there to say? It’s the circle of life.”

Vanya was the first to get up and hug Y/n, “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too, Vanny. Me too.”

[chanluster]

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

oneshot | friends with benefits! au | 18.7k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

back to masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyunjin.”

Don’t say it, girl! Don’t you dare!

“It’s...it’s not you.”

You put your hand on your heart. 

“It’s me.”

Oh, Jesus.

Your eyes raised to his own, wide and glistening. 

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

Face it, ____. You’re done for.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were almost delighted to let Hwang Hyunjin go.

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

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

It was partly you as well.

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

bitch have you done it?

CHRIS THE PISS :

helloooooo??

CHRIS THE PISS :

hoe answer the phone i’m dying!! 

CHRIS THE PISS :

or prolly hyunjin at this moment lmaooo

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

unless this is hyunjin and u killed her FUCK

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

YOU :

chan i will kill u :)

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

that was ur girl putting words in my mouth 

YOU:

omfg chan STFUUU i’m coming

CHRIS THE PISS :

PLS HYUNJIN I SWEAR UR SEXC

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

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

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

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

You cursed at the man who welcomed you.

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

“Sad it didn’t kill you off, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, we’re getting Indian.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____?” 

“No, you’re not having any of mine.”

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

Your mouth dropped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s do it, Chan.”

His hand went limp in your hold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had all the time in the world for this.

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

You wanted this as much as he did. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like your best friend promised.

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

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

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

You blinked. 

Imagine what he could have done with his dick.

“____?”

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

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

Pride washed over his features. “Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He read your every plea. 

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

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

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

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

Nodding, it was all the signal he needed.

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

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

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

Your best friend could see right through you anyway. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Hyuck.” 

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

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

YOU WOKE UP WITH CHAN ALREADY GONE.

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS: 

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

CHRIS THE PISS:

cause im sure asf u can’t walk rn 

You rolled your eyes until it hurt. Stupid prick.

YOU:

i haven’t gotten out of bed actually 

CHRIS THE PISS:

oh damn

CHRIS THE PISS:

i PARALYSED u??

CHRIS THE PISS:

why am i so powerful 

“This asshole,” you muttered. 

YOU:

STFUU COCKY MF

CHRIS THE PISS: 

It’s ok you’ll cute in a wheelchair

YOU:

?!?!?!?!!?!

CHRIS THE PISS:

but tell me 

CHRIS THE PISS:

how good was it

This had you pausing. 

CHRIS THE PISS:

outta ten

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

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

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

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

Again, the situation here was different.

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

YOU:

2/10 :)

You waited for his text.

However, you did not receive it.

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

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

“Now I know you’re lying!”

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

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

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

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

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

God, you could almost feel your nose growing.

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

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

“Shut up, Chan.”

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

“Try me, buddy,” you jeered.

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

“A Hyunjin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did change your life.

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

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

Hopefully tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jisung!”

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

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

“Boo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The joy was not returned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He narrowed his eyes. “Share.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Permission to punch him in the face?” 

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

“Fuck.”

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

You played with his curls. “How angry?”

He held onto you tighter. “9/10.”

That certainly made you do a double take. 

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

Of course, because you were his closest friend.

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

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

Suddenly, a very pleasing idea came to mind. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come here, then,” he guttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The image had you remembering your Lord and Saviour. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OF COURSE YOU WERE GOING TO THAT PARTY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did you even come here? 

You instantly soured at the thought.

Still, you could not help pondering further.

You should have stayed home. With him.

You groaned out loud.

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

Then were you feeling miserable?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lust. Pure lust swirling in his eyes. 

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

“Oh my God!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud this time. 

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

Were you really just friends? 

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

But...to be more?

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

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

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

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

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

There was a reason he rated it 9/10.

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

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

Stop worrying. Chan is your best friend.

You turned the knob.

Your best friend.

Pushed the door open. Stepped inside.

Right?

“Back so soon?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I know Chan practically adores you.

The memory brought chills all over you again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because maybe she liked Jisung all along.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like you!”

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

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

I like you too.

Well, shit. There it was.

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

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

You had finally told him of your feelings. 

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

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

God, you were such a bitch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cum for me, baby.”

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

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

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

All for him. All. For him.

Your best friend’s smile was positively wicked.

“I will completely ruin you, ____.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, Chan. Please.”

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

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

“Donghyuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

Bang Chan, your very best friend. 

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

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

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

“Cum for me, ____.”

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

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

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

You decided to break the silence first. 

“I’m sorry for saying his name.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chan!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

“Chan?”

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

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

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

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

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

He parted his mouth. 

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

You blinked. 

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

“Yes.”

Your best friend paused. 

Turned, ever so slowly, towards you. 

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[luna-writes-stuff]

Motion Sickness, Xu Shangqi

Yes, I wrote this out self projection. I myself have a very weak stomach and can therefor very easily and quickly catch motion sickness.

For those interested about what motion sickness is and what it means for me: Quick story of it, my stomach cannot stand a lot of motion, especially when my brain is unaware of the direction my body is moving in. I get nauseous and light headed and just feel the bile rising up in my throat. So when I go on long car rides for vacation and I cannot see the navigation, I could easily throw up in the car in a matter of seconds. When I sit on the wrong side of the car, I get sick. When I look anywhere else but outside in the car, I get sick. When the car is taking turns instead of driving straight ahead, I get sick. It’s really annoying and it’s still something I struggle with a lot. I get it on amusement rides, rollercoasters, boats; even when I just move around to quickly or too much. So when I was watching that scene in Shang-Chi where they drive to Ta Lo, all I could think about was how terrible I would’ve been in that situation. And it inspired me to write this (stupid as it may sound.) Yes, I am aware there is medication for this, but it happens a lot of the times and would I keep using and buying it, I would spend way more money than I actually need to. I only use it for long car rides and boat trips.

Fanfic, female! reader

Fluff, bit of angst

Tw: SPOILERS, motion sickness, description of nausea, lightheadedness, description of vomiting, rising temperature, half consciousness, self projected, description of losing consciousness (but not really), Shang-Chi being worried, established relationship, use of Y/N. Also, I could not find the script anywhere, so half of the dialogue is probably wrong.

Summary: When escaping Wenwu’s home, you join the ride to Ta Lo, even as you are aware that you get severe motion sickness in cars and most definitely will end up throwing up later. Shang-Chi knows this and tries to help, but you can’t talk nausea out of someone. Upon arriving in Ta Lo, you’re barely conscious and Shang-Chi gets concerned.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shang-Chi asked, as you sat outside the car you just escaped in.

The ride from Wenwu’s home had been difficult to say the least. You got very nauseous in car rides, and you knew that, yet you wanted to be there for Shang-Chi when he would travel to his mother’s village. It was already clear it was not going to be an easy journey, but you insisted on joining the ride.

At the moment, you were catching some fresh air after the eventful car ride earlier. You forced your nausea down, smiling up at Shang-Chi.

“Oh yeah. I’ll be fine.” You assured, standing up and taking a deep breath in.

“You know you don’t have to come along.” He tried again, but you ignored his offer.

“I said I’ll be fine.” You insisted, walking back towards the car. Shang-Chi let out a sigh of defeat before opening the door to the passenger seat.

“Actually, Trevor was going to sit there. Seeing as he kind of holds the information and stuff.” Katy said, gesturing towards the man behind you two.

“He can do that from the back.” Shang-Chi said, but you shoo’d him, opening the door behind the passenger seat.

“I can sit here too.” You announced, sitting down before your boyfriend could say anything about it.

“Y/N-“ “Don’t Y/N me.” You interrupted. “If I get sick, it’s my own damn fault.”

He groaned before stepping in on the other side, his sister seated between the two of you.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, looking towards you with a worried glance.

“She gets sick in car rides.” Shang-Chi announced, putting on his seatbelt.

“Don’t worry.” You reassured her, “If I’m going to throw up, I’m going to aim for Shang-Chi. You’ll be fine.”

“You’re going to throw up?” She questioned, frowning at the statement.

“I’ll try not to, if it’s any consolation to you.” You offered, throwing off your jacket before bundling it up and letting it rest on your lap, holding it against your stomach lightly.

“I hope you’re strapped in. Morris tells us we need to leave now.” Trevor announced, simultaneously making Katy push the gas.

As you’re driving, Katy keeps a steady pace, causing a feeling of relief to wash through you. If this was going to be the pace you’d keep during the ride, nothing could really go wrong.

In front of the car, the trees suddenly started to separate, creating a road for Katy to drive on. You gasped at the sight, having never seen anything like it before.

“This is so cool.” Katy quietly awed. You hummed in agreement, staring at the greens out of the window.

“Morris says you might want to speed up.” Trevor announced, looking at the rearview mirror. Katy followed his look, before letting a curse word slip and speeding up. All three of you in the back quickly looked behind, eyes widening at the sight of the trees closing back.

You turned around the second you saw what was happening, not ready to move forward while looking back.

“Take a left.” Trevor instructed.

“When?” Katy wondered, sparing the man a single glance.

“Now!” He ushered.

Katy took a sharp turn at his words, causing you to immediately grab hold of the handle on the door. Xialing and Shang-Chi both fell towards your side, not having prepared for the turn. You let out a little chuckle at the sight of them, but stopped as the familiar feeling of nausea hit you again.

“Right!” Trevor instructed. Yet again, Katy listened to him, taking a sharp right turn as the woods split into two again.

You had yet to let go of the handle, but you figured it might the closest thing you’d get to grounding at the moment. You felt Shang-Chi’s eyes drill holes into your head, but you refused to look at him. Instead, you kept you eyes on the window outside, knowing shooting your glance anywhere else might lead to some unfortunate consequences.

“Right again!” And at those words, the car stumbled around. Your stomach started feeling heavy as your head grew lighter, but you refused to acknowledge it, silently wishing for it to be over soon. You knew what would happen. You brought this upon yourself and you had no one to blame but yourself. You were in this now and you would not complain about it.

“Left!”

The next turn came completely unexpected to you, causing you to lose grip of the handle and the jacket on your lap, your hands trying to hold onto the seat in front of you.

As the car was on a straight line again, Shang-Chi quickly leaned over, grabbing your jacket and handing it to you, before opening your window slightly, allowing fresh air to fill the car. He shot you a silent look before returning to his seat.

“Drive faster!” Trevor urged, looking in the rearview mirror again. The forest seemed to close in behind you in an even faster rate now.

Katy just followed his lead, pushing the gas pedal down all the way. The car was hurled forward as your stomach began to flip. You leant your head against the window, your jacket pressed tightly against your stomach.

“Right!” Trevor yelled, the wind that blew into the car now becoming louder than his voice.

As Katy followed his directions, your clothes began to uncomfortably cling to your body, your hair slowly sticking to your forehead. You felt the bile rising up your throat, but you swallowed it back down, knowing there was no way of stopping now.

As Trevor kept shouting instructions, you began to wonder when this maze would end. It had been more terrible than you predicted. Perhaps the nausea of the earlier car-ride still lay heavy on your stomach, which only increased with the current journey. Or maybe the fact that there were no blinkers or navigation used, made your brain confused and uncomfortable, leaving you with a sickening feeling. Perhaps it was a combination of both.

Had this been a bad idea?

Definitely.

Would you ever confess it?

Never.

“Close the window!” Trevor yelled to Katy, holding his hands over his ears.

“Do not close the window!” Shang-Chi shot after him, holding his hand beside Katy’s seat, leaving her unable to access the window buttons.

Your head rested against the backside of the chair in front of you, trying to keep the dizziness at bay, but with every following turn, you felt that uncomfortable substance rising back up. Your head felt too light to lift it now, but your stomach forced you to keep it up before everything would come back out.

You let your head fall towards the window, keeping it up in order to swallow everything down again. The sour feeling stung your throat, nearly making you gasp in uneasiness, but you did your best not to show it. The open window that provided you with fresh air, had begun to lose its purpose, now only filling you with a loud pounding in the ears, every other word suddenly passing by unheard. It wasn’t until you felt a warm hand on the one that clung to your jacket, that you moved your head.

Before even looking, you knew it was Shang-Chi, but there was little he could do for you now. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he held out a bottle of cold water and a plastic bag. You gratefully took the offer, taking small sips from the bottle before placing the plastic bag on top of your jacket, just in case things would go sideways.

Your hands had grown all warm and soggy, nearly gliding off of the fabric. Your shirt was now nearly glued to your back. The hair you had refused to put up earlier was now suffocating your neck with a heat attack. You could feel the sweat of it fall down your body, making you move uncomfortably in your seat. A sharp ringing filled your ears, your vision showing black dots from time to time.

The car increased its speed suddenly. You had no idea what was happening, but you closed your eyes, not willing to look outside anymore. You needed your focus on your body, trying so desperately to maintain it.

Katy’s screaming disturbed the ringing in your ears as you felt an annoying banging against your brain.

And just like that, the car stopped moving. Heavy breathing was heard all around the car, but you had yet to open your eyes. The nauseating feeling was far from over. You figured it was best to continue driving before you would have to experience everything again.

“Everyone okay?” Katy asked, which went answered by multiple hums.

“Morris says to go right through there.” The man in front of you announced.

“Through the waterfall?” Katy asked incredulously.

“Yes.” Was the simple answer.

And then, the car was moving again. You heard the window beside you shut, but you made no intention to open your eyes yet.

“Y/N?” You heard Shang-Chi ask, but you ignored him, waving your hand towards him in a “let it go” manner.

How long the car had been driving afterwards, you did not know. You didn’t look outside, the earlier trip still heavy on your stomach. It wasn’t until the car suddenly stopped, that your stomach decided enough was enough, and resorted to throwing everything out.

You were hunched over the bag in your hands, the vomit slowly leaving your throat, much to your discomfort. You felt two gentle, yet unfamiliar hands wrap around your hair before tying it in a simple pony tail.

Your body felt as if it was on fire, your shirt definitely drenched by now. You tried to catch your breath, but you threw yourself back over the bag before you knew it. A second round falling out just as terrible as the first one.

You could hardly comprehend the door beside you opening, followed by a hand slowly, but steadily rubbing your back. You kept yourself above the bag, even though you were fairly sure you were done now. You began tying it, but it was taken from you before you could grab the ends.

As you unbuckled yourself and stood back up, black spots appeared in your vision again, making you stumble outside, before forcing you to sit down, your back against the car.

“Babe, can you hear me?” You faintly heard, making you hum silently, leaning your head against the car too, your eyes closing again.

“Are you okay?” He asked again, the voice now nearer.

“I just threw up twice. What do you think?” You mumbled.

Your statement went ignored, a soft hand being placed on top of your head instead.

“You’re burning up.” He remarked, untying your hair and wrapping it in a bun instead, making you sigh in relief.

“Give me a few minutes.” You stated quietly.

“Can you give me that bottle of water?” You followed up in a whisper. It was quiet for a moment before you felt the cold bottle back in your hands. You finished it quickly, handing it back when you were done.

“Do you need anything else?” He wondered again, his hand softly touching your cheek.

“A cold shower.” You mustered out, throwing your head forward, making it rest against Shang-Chi’s chest. “And a few painkillers.”

A low chuckle escaped his throat as his hand rested on your back, making you since slightly at the hot and sweaty shirt now being pushed against your body.

“Can you move yet?” He whispered patiently, letting you go, though he allowed your head to keep resting against him.

“Give me a moment.” You muttered, one of your hands falling to your stomach as if it would calm it down.

“That’s okay.” He answered, shifting a little bit before resting his head on top of yours, one of his his hands connecting with the one that was on your stomach.

“Xialing is doing the talking anyway.” He explained, his second hand falling to your neck and stroking it affectionately.

“Tell me when to get up.” He proposed, letting you pick your time and comfort.

You hummed in response, happy to be in his arms back on solid ground. You tried turning in your position, but your body quickly show down the idea, fresh nausea returning fast.

Shang-Chi understood what you were trying to do, luckily. He grabbed your waist, carefully turning you around, making your back rest against his chest.

“You’re drenched in sweat.” He noticed aloud, though that was the only thing he did about it.

Your head fell back in the crook of his neck, making Shang-Chi smile and rest his head against yours. Your hand tried reaching for his, even though you could not see anything right now.

“You want more water?” He misunderstood, his voice vibrating through his chest.

You just shook your head lightly, grabbing his arm and letting your hand slide down it until your hand connected with his. He squeezed it in comfort, before wrapping his arms around your body, holding you against him tightly, your hands toying with his fingers.

“I’m tired.” You whispered. “Do you mind if I fall asleep right here?”

Once more, Shang-Chi chuckled. “Of course not, babe.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled, sinking into his arms, nausea slowly subsiding as your mind finally drifted off.

You were glad he had been understanding, instead of cocky and full of himself at the moment. He did not mention your stubbornness earlier or your stupid comments. And you were thankful for that. You were far too tired or nauseous to deal with these comments now. They’d have to wait until tomorrow morning. Besides, a cold shower was next on the agenda, whether Ta Lo had that or not.

Taglist: @wlfstxr

[starlightxsvt]

3 dates | epilogue

pairing ➳ badboy!Seungcheol x female!reader

genre ➳ badboy au, romance, some fluff, angst, bad attempt at humour, gets spicy at the end.

word count ➳ 3.5k (total 15.6k)

warnings ➳ cursing, mentions of killing, mentions criminal activities, slight violence(non explicit), smoking, ma man Seungcheol ain't your typical badboy, blackmailing, reader does all sorts of risky things cuz she's a SIMP, blood(nothing explicit), kissing, marking, some breast worshipping, grinding, reader is horny lol. (Please lemme know if I forgot anything.)

a/n : here's the epilogue to 3 dates since tumb1r won't let me post the whole fic in one post :) Enjoy!

Part 1

As time progresses and days turn into weeks and then into months you are not left with the luxury to cry over Seungcheol. Instead you are bombarded with assignments and projects from your uni and you drown yourself completely in work to forget the scathing pain. Katelyn figured out something is wrong with you and even though talking about that man pains you too much, you told her that you are done with him and you won't be seeing him again in this lifetime. Katelyn did not ask any questions after that as you said you needed time to heal, time to forget even though you have serious doubts he'd ever leave your mind.

You have also applied for an internship to keep you even busier so that when you return home you are too tired to let the thoughts of him plague your mind as you drift off to sleep. And just like that, you have developed a routine, work, eat and sleep, trying your best to allow yourself to not think about him.

Despite that sometimes, some very few times, you think of him, wonder how he's doing, wonder if he's safe. You ponder if he thinks of you, if he regrets his decision but you don't have any answer. You simply hope he does.

-

After another day full of assignments and projects you almost doze off to sleep as soon as you hit your bed until you are intruded by the loud ringing of your phone. Annoyed, you reach for it, wondering who would be calling so late.

The caller ID has your heart doing a backflip, the name you were unable to delete from your heart and your phone flashing on the screen as you instantly sit up in your bed. It's Seungcheol.

Why is he calling so late?

You wait a few seconds, scared to pick up, scared that he might have called accidentally. But before you lose your chance, you inhale deeply and pick the call up. "Hello?" You speak, your voice tentative.The silence from the other end makes your heart fall and your suspicion come true. He called you accidentally and now he will realize it and hang up. You're about to speak again when his voice floats through.

"Hi."

The emotions you feel are overwhelming, undescribable. You're relieved, you're sad, you're excited, you want to cry and scream at the same time. That one word from him has you feeling tingles all over and makes you feel like you just did a hundred laps. Anyhow you manage to speak. "Hey." Your voice almost cracks and tears almost slip past your cheeks. You don't know why you are so emotional. "I just...I just wanted to hear your voice." He sounds so tired...so dejected and your heart breaks. Never in your life did you imagine him to call and say those words to you but instead of feeling happy, a current of melancholy hits you.

Why does he sound so broken?

"Seungcheol? Is...is everything alright?" Your voice is feather like, soft and careful. You hear him sigh loudly and you get your answer. Instead of replying to you, he asks, "How have you been?"

"I'm...fine," you lie. You have been nowhere near fine. He hums noncommittally and you're about to ask him the same question before you realize how dumb it would be. If his voice is any indication he is anything but fine. "____?" He calls your name softly. "Y-yes?" You whisper.

He stays silent, for so long that you think he hung up. "I- I just...can I see you?" He seems to have a hard time gathering his words.

What? You lurch out of bed pushing your covers aside in excitement, trying to prevent a gasp out of your lips. Did you even hear correctly? He wants to see you?

"Wha... what do you mean?" You mumble. You hear him sigh loudly, "I...I am in front of your apartment. Just come down for a minute." You don't need to hear any more words as you are dashing towards your front door in your pajamas, not disconnecting the call. You take the elevator and come out of the building as fast as possible, bumping into things in your way but not giving a care. You feet stops as you stand in front of the entrance to your building, eyes searching wildly for Seungcheol. "Stay there," his voice comes through the phone, just as you spot him standing on the opposite to your building, decently far but not far enough that you can't see.

A horrified gasp leaves your mouth as your eyes finally land on him.

He stands there, bruised, his beautiful face marred with scratches and wounds, his clothes having patches of dirt and if you are seeing correctly his left arm is bleeding as he holds the phone next to his ear with the other.

"Seungcheol-" you're about to rush towards him. "Don't move." He cuts you off, looking you in the eye. Even from afar you don't miss the dark, commanding gaze of him. "Just...just stay there. Just...let me look at you."

No- why is he doing this?

Tears slip down your cheeks, "Seungcheol-" You are interrupted once more, "Please. I- I missed you and...I needed to see you. Just let me hear your voice and look at you like this." His voice almost cracks and you can see the emotion in his eyes.

Your heart breaks.

Why does he keep doing this? Why does he keep pushing you away? Why does he torment himself like this?

You stand there, rooted to the ground, quiet sobs leaving your mouth. He comes here all bruised and wounded and expects you to stay away? How can you when you can clearly see him in pain?

You grip the phone tighter, watching him as he stands there, not moving an inch. His eyes never leaves you as he drinks you in, like this is the last time he's gonna look at you. You can't stand it anymore. Hanging up the phone you run towards him, as fast as your nimble legs can carry you. You can't stay away, you just can't. Not when he looks so hurt and lost and lonely.

Your body smashes against his as you wrap your arms tightly around his torso, your head buried in his chest. He stumbles back from the force and for a while he stays unmoved and you hold your breath, half expecting him to shove you away. But he doesn't. Instead he pulls you firmly against him resting your head on his chest while burying his face in your hair.

The tears come naturally. Loud, ungraceful sobs emerge from you as you cling to him like your life depends on it, your grip on him unyielding. Seungcheol softly pets your hair as your cries fill the silence of the cold night. You pull back just a little to look at his face and you want to once more. There's a cut above his brow and some bruises on his cheek and nose and another cut on his lower lip. But you can't bring yourself to care as you lean above to press your lips against his. You don't dare hold back, kissing him like the world is about to end. Seungcheol reciprocates, tilting your head for better access as his tongue prods into your mouth and you taste the metallic flavour of blood. The kiss is messy, all teeth and tongue, an outpour of the bottled up feelings of the last couple months.

You both take a lungful of air when you pull back and you're about to dive in for more when you realize his arm is injured. "Wha- how did this happen?" You hiccup, wiping away your tears as you gently reach for his bleeding arm. His clothes are torn at the part of the wound and from what you can see, it looks like a knife injury, a thin, slanted cut on his upper arm as if someone slashed him. "It's nothing," he says trying to push your hand away.

"It's not nothing, Seungcheol!" You're yelling before you know it. It's the exasperation, the accumulated frustration over the days that makes you snap.

Seungcheol seems to be shocked at your outburst as he blinks at you, an astonished look on his face. He's kind enough to reply honestly this time. "Got into a fight. I was outnumbered. It's okay, it's nothing serious, I've had worse," his voice is small, almost timid which is definitely unlike him.

Of course he has had worse.

You let out a tired breath. "Come on, you're bleeding. Let me help you." You wrap a hand around his uninjured arm, tugging him towards your apartment.

"No, you don't have to-" he protests but you pin him down with a look. "Please," you speak, your voice low. "I can't let you go like this. Just let me clean your wound." Seungcheol presses his lips into a thin line as if trying to prevent himself from speaking further. When no more words leave his mouth, you drag him into your building in silence.

Entering your unit you help Seungcheol sit down in your small living space as you quickly pad towards the bathroom for the first aid kit. When you return you find him looking around your place with a curious glow in his eyes similar to a child's. As your eyes meet, he sits up straighter and tries to remove his jacket. You aid him in the process, discarding the material on the floor as you take a seat next to him, the first aid kit in your lap.

Thankfully he's wearing a tank top as it gives you easy access to his biceps. You would have stopped to admire and ogle them if he wasn't hurt, which he is and you mentally smack yourself for having such thoughts right now. Seungcheol's eyes does not leave your face as he silently gazes at you and if you didn't know any better you would say he looked at you fondly.

Swallowing, you sanitize your hands before proceeding to clean his wound. Seungcheol tenses beside you, low, pained grunts leaving his lips a few times as you disinfect the cut. But he says nothing, letting you do the work and you don't speak either focused on the task at hand. You then do the same for his face and finish your work by wrapping a bandage around his bicep and sitting back, exhaling a satisfied sigh. Unintentionally your eyes connect to his and you find his scorching gaze on you, those mesmerising eyes almost piercing through your soul. Feeling self aware, you abruptly stand up, coughing to clear your throat. "You should take a shower. I have some extra clothes for my parents when they come over. My dad's clothes should fit you."

"No, it's alright. I should leave." He murmurs. "You're already here. Might as well take a shower. There's no rush," you say sternly, trying to make him agree.

Truth is you want him to stay, at least the night.

Seungcheol sits quietly for a while as if contemplating before surrendering with a sigh. "Okay." "Good. The bathroom's this way," you point towards the attached bath in your room and Seungcheol mutely follows. You offer him a towel and you dad's pajamas, hoping they'd do the job for tonight as he closes the door behind him.

As silence fill the apartment, you quietly return to your bed and sit, anxiously chewing on your lower lip. The digital clock beside your bed reads 2:50 am but your sleep is long gone.

Choi Seungcheol is here. In your house.

Will he spend the night? Or will he be his stubborn self and leave as soon as he is out? And if he does stay, will you see him in morning? Or will he be gone before the sun is up? The thoughts running rampant in your mind gives you a headache as you groan, rubbing your temples. You are sure Seungcheol feels something for you, he has to. Otherwise why would he come to you in the middle of the night? If only he told you his feelings, spilled his heart out to you rather than hiding and pushing you away. He just needs to bare himself to you, tell you what is in his heart. Why can't he do that? Why can't he just give the two of you a chance?

Your thoughts are interrupted as Seungcheol steps out the bathroom, half naked, the pajama pants hanging low on his hips as his muscled body is displayed in all its glory, making your throat dry. He looks at you before quickly looking away as an air awkwardness and tension fills the room. You hold your breath, watching him intently, not moving a single muscle as he tentatively takes a seat at the corner of your bed while wiping his wet hair with the towel hanging around his neck.

You want to tell him to stay the night, the words right on the tip of your tongue but you're terrified that it will just make him walk out here immediately. So instead you watch him with bated breath, waiting for his next move, waiting for him to say something, anything that will put an end to this deafening silence.

Seungcheol takes mercy on you.

"Thank you," he says, voice barely audible. You don't know what he's thanking you for you reply anyway. "Welcome. Though I don't know what you are thanking me for." Seungcheol remains silent for a few beats, his eyes focused on the floor before replying. "For everything. I have a lot to thank you for."

Okay.

You nod mutely, unable to figure out a reply. Another wave of silence settles in the atmosphere like a blanket. You take this time to appreciate his beautiful profile, engraving his features in your mind. The moonlight coming from your window falls on his face partially, illuminating his sculpted lineaments. You get to admire his beauty once more as he sits there but the look on his face tugs at your heartstrings. He looks troubled and in pain, the natural glow of his face somewhat dim. You wonder how the past couple of months have treated him. You wonder how life has been treating him, if he had someone to go to, someone to share his worries with all this time.

"Do you still like me?" His words make your eyes widen as it the last thing you expected to come from him. "You wouldn't be here if I didn't," your words come out harsher than you intended making you regret instantly. Perhaps the pain you have suffered for a while is coming out finally. However, seeing his silence, you reply once more, voice much softer this time, "Of course I still like you, Seungcheol. I have...I have never liked anyone or anything as much as you."

It's an understatement. What you feel for him is love but you would rather keep that to yourself.

"Why?" Seungcheol's voice comes out as a croak as his eyes connect to yours. For the first time, you see so much emotion in them and maybe, maybe even some unshed tears, though you can't be sure because the light is not sufficient right now. Your throat closes up for some reason as your eyes mirror the emotions in his and you desperately try to think, try to give him a reply that he deserves.

"You are very easy to like," you say lamely. Your reply is insufficient but that's all you can manage without starting to bawl like a child. A humourless laugh comes out of Seungcheol and echoes through the otherwise quiet room. "I doubt that," he says, his voice deep. "It's true Seungcheol," you repeat, voice firm.

A mirthless grin settles on his face and you know he isn't buying your words. Swallowing, you carefully, too carefully, scoot towards him and sit down, maintaining a little space between the the two of you. "I don't understand why you hold such negative thoughts about yourself but believe me Seungcheol, it's hard not to fall in love with you."

Your slip-up causes your eyes to widen, face drowning in embarrassment as you realize you just said the L word. Seungcheol, however, does not react to it but turns his head to study your face and the pain and sentiment in his eyes, his passionate gaze on you makes you forget human language. You've never seen nor imagined Seungcheol to be so full of ardor and pain and now that you have, you don't know what to do. You just want to cling to him and cry like a child.

"Can't you see how fucked up I am? What and awful person I am, ____? Someone like me deserves noth-" Unable to hold yourself back you interrupt him by cupping both of his cheeks and pressing your lips to his. You kiss him softly, carefully, trying to gauge his feelings while trying not to push him too hard. Seungcheol stays immobilised, letting you kiss him like that. When you pull back, his eyes are closed and he rests his forehead against yours. "You are just fine, Seungcheol. I like you just the way you are. Don't...beat yourself up like this, hmm?" Your voice is just above a whisper as you tilt his head to meet his eyes. Seungcheol stares quietly at you for a while before suddenly pushing you back and caging you underneath his large body. A squeak of surprise leaves your lips as Seungcheol wastes no time wrapping himself around you while attaching his lips to yours.

This time the kiss is not soft, it is full of passion and vigour and longing as Seungcheol takes the reign. Your lips mold perfectly against each other and Seungcheol does not hold back, kissing you like a starved man; all teeth and tongue. He pulls back for a while, supporting himself on his elbows as you looks at you while you try to catch your breath underneath him. His hand comes to stroke your hair gently, like a lover and your eyes burn at his tenderness.

"Seungcheol-"

"Is there still a place for me in your heart?" He asks, a hopeful note in his voice. His words leave you breathless as you gape at him in suprise, you mouth open slightly. Seungcheol looks at you look longingly as he waits for your answer, which comes easily, without a second thought.

"Of course, Seungcheol. I...I love you."

This time it is his turn to be surprised as his pupils dilate and a soft gasp of surprise escapes from him. Swallowing, you hold his gaze, waiting for his next words but they never come. Instead, the man attacks your lips with renewed fervour while slotting a muscular thigh between your legs. As his toned thigh brushes against your core a wanton moan leaves your mouth and you wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel Seungcheol smirk against your skin while he kisses a path down from jaw towards your neck, taking his sweet time to plant some love bites along the way while you gasp and writhe underneath him. Soon he reaches the valley of your breasts and with skilled fingers he does a quick work of the buttons of your night shirt. His heated gaze remains on your now bare breasts and you can feel your nipples harden in the chill air of the room before he leans down to plant soft kisses all over them. While he does so you continue to grind your core against his leg, desperate for some friction which he is denying you. His assault on your neck and breasts don't stop as he remains focused in marking you, blooming kisses of red and purple on your skin.

"I missed you," His voice comes out as throaty whisper while he keeps his lips attached to your heated skin. "Me too," you choke between moans as his ministrations on your body leaves you aching all over for him.

He pulls back to meet your gaze, "I want you. I... always have and I've been hiding it. But I can't anymore."

"Take me then, Seungcheol," It isn't the most romantic thing to say but that is all your lust clouded brain can manage as you keep grinding yourself against him. You feel his hard on poke your belly and unlike your lover, you really can't wait anymore. You need him now.

Seungcheol keeps looking at you, too busy studying your features rather than doing something about the wetness between your legs and you're about to tell him to do something when he speaks, "I love you, ____. I'm sorry for the hurt I've caused you. Let me make it up to you."

Great. Now you're horny and emotional.

His confession brings tears to your eyes but your neediness is growing so you pull his face down closer to yours and whisper, "You can start doing that by making me cum. And then you can stay. With me. Forever. How about that?" A mischievous grin kisses his face, "I'd love that sweetheart."

You grin in happiness not wasting anymore time as you reconnect your lips with his.

a/n 2: Whew~ a whopping 15k+! I can't believe I wrote something this huge. But it was well worth it! I just hate this damn app like I don't understand?? I've seen ppl post fics with 40k+ words yet tumb1r says I've reached 250 blocks like what?? Anyhow, I really really hope you enjoyed reading this baby cuz I've been working on it for soooo long! If you did please reblog and share as always your feedbacks are highly appreciated so please leave them in the comments or my ask box!

[biwifeenergy]

More Than Just a Goblin

part two of my ongoing series that is also cross posted to ao3 here

------------------------------------------

It’s in front of the grand archway of the hedge maze that Wuuvy finds him. Hob is strategizing with his salt goblins when he hears a quiet throat clearing behind him. The salt goblins take his momentary distraction as a chance to run from their very important strategy meeting, whispering under their breath about getting a glance at Lady Featherfowl. News of her acceptance of the gift from the Lord and Lady of the Goblin court had spread faster than a good goblin arson. They were smitten.

When he turned to face her, Wuuvy had reverted from her third form–the one she had been in most of the party, daring anyone to say anything –to the form most knew her in. Her big, doe eyes were shining in the mid-afternoon sun but he was not fooled by their innocent look. It had taken quite a bit of healing to repair the damage she had done to his skin–and a bit of sewing to mend his favorite officer’s jacket. She was a formidable foe, a Champion of the Hoof and Claw court, and not to be underestimated on looks alone.

Hob mused for a moment on how similar they really were.

“Lady Wuuvy,” he began, taking on his ‘court’ voice and bowing low to the ground, his tall hat tucked in one hand. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? We were just–well, I was formulating a plan with the salt goblins on how to best solve the Bloom Master’s maze.” He watched her carefully as he mentioned Rue but the satyr gave nothing away, her face impassive and still.

In fact, she seemed to be considering him very closely, sharp eyes flitting from his stance to his face, taking it all in. Hob felt distinctly like a puzzle that she was trying to work out. He worried for a moment what he might be giving away, cognizant to keep his hands by his side and his face as impassive as possible, mirroring the expression she wore.

But then Rue walked by, arm in arm with Lady Featherfowl, laughing at something the other had said, followed closely behind by a lovesick troupe of salt goblins. Hob couldn’t stop his eyes from flickering toward them. It was almost like a compulsion ever since that night in the woods. Everywhere Rue was, Hob was sure to be looking.

As quickly as he flicked his eyes to the passing group, he returned back to looking at Wuuvy. In the brief moment he had looked away, her entire demeanor had shifted. Her posture relaxed, no long ramrod straight, no longer staring at Hob with consideration. Her eyes softened and she smiled lightly at him.  “I come in peace, I assure you,” she said, bowing her head to him. “I wanted to–”

“You wanted to see my reaction to the venerable Mistrex Rue,” Hob replies. He’s not positive that was what she was about to say, but the flattening of her ears give her away. Dangerous things, ears. Never completely under control, always giving something away (as he’s learned the hard way through many years serving the Goblin court). It is refreshing to have another fey in the same boat as him, however. 

“Yes,” she says plainly, and Hob prides himself on his guess only to have the ground feel as though it is falling beneath him at what she says next. “Furthermore, I wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize? There is nothing to apologize for, my good Lady. If anything, it is I who should still be asking for your forgiveness,” he rushes out. “It was I who harmed Mistrex Rue.”

Wuuvy tilts her head at him, more curiosity than judgment. “But you said you did not know why I demanded satisfaction.”

Hob clears his throat, unable to meet Wuuvy’s eyes. “I–I confess that I do not know the details of how I caused harm but for a warrior such as yourself to demand satisfaction from me and with your…countenance so changed,” he sucks in a breath and looks back up at his companion. “I know that I can be ignorant of some aspects and customs of the fey courts as I am more suited for battle and war but–”

Wuuvy laughs softly, reaching out a hand to rest on Hob’s forearm. “My dear Captain, take a breath.”

He sucks in a breath and then huffs out a laugh of his own. “Forgive me. Lady Boil has often reminded me that I can be quite verbacious when speaking, often talking around the point so to speak.”

Wuuvy takes that in with an odd look. “What do you think the cause of Rue’s distress was?”

Hob blinks at her, taken aback for a moment. It was hard enough to speak of it to Lady Boil. He remembers tripping over his words as he spoke his truest fear aloud. Hob isn’t sure if he can do that again. He sighs and looks away. “My Lady, I—“ he hesitates. “From what I can parse together–and rest assured I do not intend to speak for or make assumptions of what the Mistrex may or may not think or feel– and without any other sensible explanation I have deduced that the very act of expressing my feelings as a member of the Goblin court to a member of the Court of Wonder moved the honorable Rue to tears.” He takes a deep breath and then pushes on. “They ran from me quite soon after, which is of course their right to do just as it is your right to defend their honor.”

When his gaze returns to Wuuvy, there is a new kind of softness to her features that is foreign to Hob. She replaces her hand on his arm and give him a gentle squeeze. She offers him another smile but her ears twitch in a way that broadcasts sadness. No, not sadness. Pity. 

Not again , Hob thinks. Offending another of the fey high court.

“Do you really think so little of yourself?” she asks.

The question startles him from his spiraling thoughts. “My Lady?”

Wuuvy’s eyes are kind as she repeats her question. “Do you think that little of yourself, Captain?”

“I—it’s—I’m not sure I understand?” he stutters. “I am aware of the…reputations of the Goblin Court as well as I am aware of my own…limitations within my court and the Bloom at large.” Hob feels the shame and embarrassment burn through his body at having to explain this to someone of higher standing–again.

“Do you think Rue is shallow?” Wuuvy asks. “Do you think they care where you are from and what your standing is?”

“Well–”

“A straight answer, Captain,” she warns. “Yes or no. Do you think Rue would scorn you simply for being a goblin? Even before today, when you thought they were the beautiful elven fey, do you think they would be so cruel?”

Hob swallows thickly, casting his eyes once again to the ground. Wuuvy is a source of constant surprise it seems. To corner him in such a way and see past his bumbling words. “No,” he says quietly. “No, I do not think Rue to be like that.”

One of Wuuvy’s soft hands finds his chin, directing his face to look at her. “Exactly,” she says with a nod, her soft eyes somehow piercing the hardened shell of his exterior. She gives him one last smile. “And from what I understand, you are more than just a goblin anyway.” With a final squeeze of his forearm she sweeps away, leaving Hob alone in front of the archway of the maze.

[bumbleklee]

Maybe a Childe x reader x Zhongli (poly) domestic fluff/parenting headcanons? (Fem pronouns preferred)

poly parenting is very rare but i feel like it’s going to become more common as we progress as a society :)) hope u enjoyed 

before reading: usual cut for baby/child/parenting lol, also there’s no mention of who the father is (could be whoever u want)

babies

you were married to your husbands for a little over a year before you surprised them with a pregnancy announcement

all of you were excited to start your family and were elated to find out you were having twins, a little girl and boy

though they both loved each child equally, zhongli tended to spend more time with your daughter and childe your son

your family was untraditional but you made it work

having three sets of hands around really helped alleviate the stress of being a mother (you had to feed your children and there was a special connection and bond you had with them that your husbands didn’t)

zhongli had no problem getting up at night to help with diaper changes or fussy dreams and childe liked to take your babies on walks through liyue during the day

when your babies grew old enough to start doing things on their own, it was a race to see whose name they were going to say first

your son blabbered out ��mama” one day and childe pouted for a week straight

your daughter fell behind your son for a while, becoming the second to roll over or start crawling or talking so zhongli took extra time to sit with her at night and help her catch up

so it really wasn’t a surprise she said “dada” to him (childe was very upset again)

zhongli or you are in charge of dressing the babies since childe literally forgot to put on their onesies once

childe is the warmest though and sometimes when he falls asleep on the couch, you and zhongli will lay the babies on top of him because he’s like their personal heater (it’s also really cute)

lots of family cuddles in your big bed

your husbands on either side of you and your babies somewhere in the middle

children

cue childe running through the house with your son on his shoulders and your daughter nearly falling out of his arms

zhongli is the type of dad to scold his kids for sneaking snacks before dinner but absolutely cracking when they give him puppy-dog eyes (you and childe are the ones who sneak them the snacks)

sometimes zhongli is a little hard on the kids, making them do their homework as soon as they get home or making them read chapter books early

he just wants them to be smart and excel but you and childe often have to remind zhongli that they’re kids and they have their entire life to prepare for the future

your daughter is still infatuated with him and it’s nice to have intimate moments with her and zhongli when childe takes your son out for the day (you have intimate moments with childe too)

zhongli has tea parties with your daughter and childe teaches your son how to use a bow at a much too young age

you have family nights every weekend, whether it’s zhongli sharing a story from his past or childe giving the kids a new game to play together

you have a heart attack anytime your kids do something reckless and since childe is one of their fathers, they’re constantly doing reckless things

one time you came home to zhongli tied up to a chair and both of your kids circling him thrusting empty paper towel rolls into the air

their excuse was that daddy said dad was a dragon and we were the knights that needed to capture him

zhongli was not amused

this is obvious but these kids are SPOILED

you and zhongli definitely try to ration gifts and presents but if your kids really want something, they go to childe who they know will buy it for them instantly

your daughter becomes a bit of a diva because of this, demanding new cor lapis earrings everytime you all head down to the harbor (and childe always gets them for her)

the most important thing the three of you agree on is that your kids can be whoever they want - they’re allowed to wear any style of clothing that makes they comfortable, cut their hair or grow it out, experiment in their gender expression and sexuality

you know liyue is changing and your kids are going to be the future

you get very emotional the more milestones your kids reach because you know it means they’re growing up and they’re not your little babies anymore

The day your twins start their first day of school, you’re an emotional mess. You were an emotional mess the night before and no matter how much your husbands consoled you, the feelings carried over. 

You were helping your son put on his jacket when your eyes filled with tears again and you found yourself crushing the little boy in your arms. 

“Mama, I can’t breathe,” He said quietly. The five year old wiggled in your arms and you finally let him go, wiping your eyes. Childe was beside you the second he heard you sniffle and took over dressing your son. 

“Isn’t it too hot for a jacket?” Zhongli commented from across the room where he was tying your daughter’s sneakers. Her outfit was very cohesive (and very expensive). 

“What if it starts raining? Or what if it’s cold in the classroom! Or what if there’s a sudden snowstorm-”

Your ramblings are interrupted by Childe wrapping an arm around your kneeling body. “It’s going to be fine,” He says, “If you get too hot, you can take off the coat. Alright, bud?” 

“Okay, daddy.” 

Zhongli finishes stuffing the kid’s backpacks with their school supplies and helps each child slip their arms through the straps. He was hesitant to send your children to a school at first, wanting to homeschool them, but you insisted that it would be better for them. You had gone to school in Liyue and the people that taught you were the same people that would be teaching your children. 

“We’re going to be late,” Childe said, checking the time, “Everyone ready?”

There was a chorus of “yes” and Childe gathered your children at the front door. Your bottom lip was still quivering at the sight of the twins in their new clothes and little backpacks. Childe grabbed each of their hands and Zhongli trailed behind, opting to wrap an arm around your waist in case you started crying again. 

“Whose more excited?” Childe teased, starting the short walk to the school building. 

“I am!” Your daughter cheered.

“No, I am,” Your son said quieter. Childe only laughed and flexed his bicep, pulling both kids off the ground for a moment. They giggled. 

“They’re excited!” You blubbered to Zhongli, unable to control the tears. Zhongli wiped away your tears with a small smile.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” He asked. 

You nodded and repeated, “They’re excited.” 

“Daddy, are you and mama and dad going to go to school too?” Your daughter asked. Childe peered over his shoulder and shared a cheeky grin with you and Zhongli. 

“We’re too old for school,” Zhongli answered. 

“Oh,” She said, “Then what are you going to do?”

The question made you and your husbands freeze. What were you going to do? You had dedicated the last five years of your lives to spending every waking moment with your babies, what were you going to do now that they wouldn’t be with you for hours at a time?

“I think mama is going to miss you,” Childe answered cheekily, “And me and dad are going to practice sparring. Root for daddy, okay?” 

Zhongli rolled his eyes but was too tired to counter. The kids laughed again and cheered for Childe until all of you arrived at the school building. It blended right into the city of Liyue and you would have missed it if it wasn’t for the familiar woman standing outside. She greeted you, ecstatic to see a former student of hers now had children of their own. 

Childe and Zhongli said goodbye to the twins first, kissing their cheeks and ruffling their hair. They moved to the side and let you crouch down to their level. You bit your lip to hold back even more tears and wrapped your arms around your kids. You pulled them into your chest and they snuggled right in. 

“Be good to Madam Changyang, okay?” You whispered into their ears. 

“We will, mama,” Your daughter answered and your son agreed. Finally, you pulled away and Madam Changyang gave you a sympathetic smile before ushering your kids inside the building. 

“You did good,” Zhongli told you when you stood back up. “They’ll be back in your arms in no time.”

It was Childe’s turn to hold and kiss you. “Would a nice lunch at the Pavilion cheer you up? My treat.” 

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - If You Asked Me To  (Special)

Part One Here || AO3

Summary: Prompt request “ Modern AU Wanda x Female Reader with the song If You Asked Me To by Angeline Quinto? Where basically Wanda and R are in this middle area of not being official and on and off relationship because Wanda has had shitty ex’s that have cheated on her.” // Special Smut request from “If You Asked Me To”

Words: 1.496 K

Warnings: +18, Pure Smut.

Tags:  @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch

//-//

Carol called you two minutes after you sent her a text.

"Please explain." She spoke impatiently as soon as you answered, making you laugh slightly.

You told her that you had come to terms with Wanda, and that things happened the right way now. Carol was silent for a moment.

"Damn, I hope you're right, honey." She said on the other end of the line. "I just want you to be happy."

"That's sweet." You joked and she laughed. "Anything new out there?"

"Yes, actually." She said with slight irony and you heard a loud noise in the call. "Natasha just threw a pillow at me, sorry about that."

You laugh with confusion.

"What happened?"

You heard Natasha yell at Carol to mind her own business in the background of the call and started to get curious.

"Our friend was dumped and is crying in the corners... Let go of me, you psycho!" Carol's voice grew distant from the call and you began to laugh, imagining that they were fighting. 

A moment later, Natasha was the one on the other end.

"I am declaring that I will never date again in my life, okay?" She announces and you laugh, imagining that the noise in the background was Carol, trying to get loose.

"Please don't kill my friend." You ask humorously and Nat lets out an impatient sigh, probably struggling to keep Carol off the phone. "Ask her to call me later."

You say before hanging up. Throwing the cell phone on your bed, you bite your lips, wondering what to do. Wanda was having some stupid test that keeps your hands off her, so you were waiting.

You decided to try to watch something, and you chose a comedy series.

Many minutes later, the door to your dormitory opened.

"Hey, your girlfriend is coming." Darcy warned and you blinked in surprise at her sudden appearance, but Dary was already throwing her backpack on the bed, and leaving the room and then Wanda came in next, closing and locking the door.

"Hi..." You started to say hello but your speech died when Wanda threw her purse on the floor and pulled her blouse off over her head in one motion. "Damn." 

You gasped in surprise as she quickly approached, and you moved your laptop out of the way placing it in the closet next to you. Wanda sat on your lap, kissing you intensely.

"God, I missed that." She gasps breathlessly between kisses. You smile, letting your hands move up to her breasts, and making her moan when you squeeze her nipples over her bra.

"Are you in a hurry, honey?" You tease as you feel her pull your shirt up, but you don't stop her from removing the piece next. Wanda smiles, biting her lips, and you raise your hand to her neck, tilting it to the side so that you have better access to her collarbone. Wanda sighs as you lick and suck her skin, beginning to move against your lap. 

Wanda felt so good and hot against you, you couldn't wait until she was fully undressed to run your fingers down the bundle of her pants, and then slip through her panties, making her moan loudly and throw her head back.

"So wet." You whispered against the skin of her neck, moving up her face to kiss her again as your finger caressed her swollen clitoris superficially. Wanda whimpered, forcing her hips down, and you gave her exactly what her body was asking for.

Penetrating your finger as deep as you could while your thumb played with her clitoris, you slipped your tongue into her mouth as she moaned breathlessly, kissing her with passion.

When you set a rhythm to move in and out along with Wanda's hips, she could barely keep up with the kiss, panting and breathless as she rode your fingers.

"That's it, baby, right there." She moaned against his lips. "So good."

The next time you pulled out of her, you inserted in second finger, and Wanda broke the kiss into a loud moan, shuddering and sinking her head against your collarbone, making you smile at how hot and tight she was.

"Damn, Wanda, you feel so good." You sigh against her ear, and she whimpers as you press your thumb into her clitoris, the back and forth movements never stopping.

"I... I'm close." She whimpers as she tightens her fingers on your shoulder, her nails digging into your skin. You smiled, feeling the same way. Wanda's pussy tightening in your fingers as she tried to keep the rhythm of her hips. You continued to stimulate her clitoris as you whispered in her ear, "That's my sweet girl. Come for me, kitten."

Two deep strokes was enough to bring Wanda to the edge, and she came on your fingers next, throwing her head back and arching her back, her mouth open as she moaned loudly your name.

You smiled feeling Wanda's warm liquid on your fingers as she tried to normalize her own breathing and stop shaking. You raised your free hand to her face, lifting her chin gently and making her look up at you.

You steal a few quick kisses, waiting for Wanda to be able to reciprocate. When she pursued your face, you bit her lower lip, sucking before releasing and making her moan.

"Ride my face." You commanded in a husky voice and she gasped, nodding afterwards. You pulled away only to lie back, and Wanda moved on top of you until your pussy was at mouth height. 

Wanda sighed as your tongue reached her clit again, leaning her hands on the headboard and closing her eyes.

You used your hands to hold her thighs open and began licking and sucking her wet pussy, intoxicating yourself with the smell and taste.

"Fuck." Wanda whimpered on top of you, throwing her head back and forcing herself down. You kept stroking as deep as you could, and licking back. "Right there, baby." She moaned. " Don't stop."

The sounds Wanda was making were also pushing you to your limits. Her taste, her smell. You could feel the tightness in your own core increase as Wanda rubbed against your face, whimpering and moaning your name. You shuddered breathlessly, moaning against her cunt, realizing how close you were, and the vibration was enough to bring Wanda to orgasm, and she whimpered loudly pushing hard against the headboard.

"Fuck!" She cried out as she collapsed, using the support to keep from falling completely against you. You smiled against her folds, drinking her juices.

Her legs were trembling as she tried to get off you, so you helped her to lie down again.

She sighed when you kissed her next, feeling her own taste on your tongue.

"Are you tired, baby?" You asked leaning your foreheads together as you lay down next to her, Wanda moved forward again, kissing you slowly.

"Yes, but I'm not done with you yet." She whispers against your lips, moving forward to be on top.

You smile against her lips, having no intention of protesting.

//-//

Wanda was not kidding.

You fell panting against the mattress after coming for the third time in a row, unable to feel your legs as your girlfriend collapses on top of you, affected by her own orgasm.

You sighed when she brought your mouths together again and you were almost ready for another when a knock on the door caught your attention.

"Girls please, it's been four hours!" Shouted Darcy from the other side of the door, and you and Wanda exchanged a look before letting out a giggle.

Wanda moved against you, searching the room for your clothes. She ended up putting on your T-shirt and one of your sweatpants, and you grabbed a jacket that was lying on the nightstand.

"You can come in, Darcy," You prompted next, covering your waist with the blanket as Wanda lay down beside you.

"God, this room smells like sex." She complains lightly and you laugh as Wanda lies against your chest and sinks her face into your neck. "Did you guys even drink water?"

Wanda giggles against your skin, finding your colleague's irritation amusing as you assure her that you two are doing just fine.

Darcy checks her watch.

"I don't know if you forgot, but we have the last Modern period now" She tells you and you sigh.

"Shit, it's true." You say and Wanda tightens her arms around you, making you smile. "You think you can cover for me?"

Darcy looks at the two of you for a moment and then rolls her eyes with amusement.

"Yeah, but you'll owe me" She says with a smile and you agree laughing slightly. "Drink some water for god's sake girls" She warns with amusement before leaving the room making you both laugh lightly.

You snuggle up against Wanda, feeling her relax against your body. It doesn't take long for you both to fall asleep.