#corny? y e s

[shayesinterlude]

All ima say is Jealous by Nick Jones goes perfectly with those Red Hood x Reader fics we love

[blackdollette]

"tearing around in my fucking nightgown." | s. reid

hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have, but i have it. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: you were hardly at fault. spencer had taken a late shift, and you needed to settle your nerves somehow...

fill out the taglist form! : @thirtyratsinasuit @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @sleepysongbirdsings @pleasantwitchgarden @emma-e-a @bellasprettywords

female!reader x spencer

word count: 1.2k

contents: spencer takes the late shift at work, masturbation, cunnilingus (flashback), no proofread

you had been tossing and turning in your disheveled bedsheets for minutes that seemed like hours.

your hair laid in a scruffy mess on your head, your silk nightgown clinging to your flesh in an awkward fashion. it was a few minutes past midnight, and because of spencer’s absence, you were beginning to lose your mind. you were somehow sweaty in the bedroom that was always just a touch too chilly, a sticky film coating your skin.

you rolled over once again with a groan, wishing that spencer hadn’t taken the night shift. you couldn’t see anything in the blackness of the bedroom, with the exception of the sparse streaks of moonlight that seeped in from the window and the monotonous flicker of the time that flickered on the small digital clock beside you, seeming to be mocking the same sensation that played in your mind.

you’d gotten so used to the feeling of spencer’s big arms cradling you to keep you warm during the night. you longed to feel his body pressing up against yours as he shifted and mumbled in response to whatever he was dreaming about.

you tossed in the sheets, stretching out your arm to grab your phone off the bedside table. honestly, you were surprised that you were able to keep yourself together for so long. you thought you were going to crack hours ago. you scrolled down your call list, landing on the name titled with a heart symbol. you clicked the call button and waited for the recipient to pick up.

the phone rang once, twice, and many more times until you went to voicemail. frustration began to coil in your gut as you tried to call back, each time resulting in the same outcome. you couldn’t begin to explain this pathetic feeling of hopelessness and desperation that had overtaken you. 

you mindlessly scrolled through your old messages with him, missing him more than anything. you sat up in the bed holding your knees to your chest as you reread your texts with him. a smile tugged at your lips each time he said something corny in response to something provocative that you said. 

you stumbled upon an image that he had sent you from his office. he had positioned the camera from a higher angle, capturing his leaned-back position and a sneaky hand that pulled the waistband of his trousers down just enough to give you a sneak peek of his boxer briefs. he had a cheeky little grin on his face, his fluffy hair falling in perfect tufts over his forehead. the picture seemed to be crafted by the gods, from the lighting to the slight surge of lust it filled you with. it was perfection.

you felt a familiar heat pooling in your core as the image filled your head. your breath hitched as hunger began to fill the empty void in your mind. a switch flipped inside of you quickly and your hand had already found its way to your lacy panties.

you were almost surprised at how needy you had gotten so quickly. you were practically clawing at the skimpy material of your nightgown. 

your mind was flickering with images of him and you on your most intimate nights. him having you lying on your back as he pumped two fingers in and out of you, his soft words as smooth and sweet as honey…

“y-yeah, right there, spence…” you whimpered out as his slightly calloused fingertips brushed against your cervix. “oh yeah..? well… how does this feel..?” he began to curl his fingers ever so slightly, making your breath hitch as he rubbed slow circles onto your puffy clit. you rolled your hips against his hand, eager to feel him in every part of you. the simple act brought a smile onto his face, letting him know that he was doing something right.

he pressed his fingers against your bladder, making your whole body jerk. startled, he chuckled. “how does that feel?” you tried to formulate audible speech, but he began to pick up the pace, taking pleasure in the way you drooled and stammered. your pussy mimicked the lewd noises of your lips, the sticky sounds of your cunt almost too good to be true. “yeah… listen to that, baby…”

your fluids of arousal dripped along his fingers, trailing down his veiny hands. the folds of your pussy fluttered around him, greedily swallowing his digits. you pressed your legs together as that unmistakable band began to tighten in your stomach, but he pushed your legs open, letting his hand rest on your inner thigh. “c’mon, baby. i’m not done with you yet…” 

you were falling apart, the rapid beating of your heart syncing with the way your cunt pulsated. a stupid little grin was plastered on spencer’s face the entire time. he loved the way he could make you go dumb for him, the way you turned into silly putty with a few pumps of his fingers. the inside of your sticky walls felt like velvety silk around his fingers. 

he couldn’t take his eyes off of your puffy lips and tear-glazed eyes. to him, there was no greater pleasure than making you feel on top of the world. 

you bit your lip hard, the iron tang of blood filling your mouth as he connected his lips to your cunt just as your orgasm was on the way. he flicked his tongue on your swollen pearl, mumbling mindless praises into your core. 

your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he found the perfect rhythm between his tongue and fingers. he grabbed a handful of his hair, grinding your hips against his face. he groaned deeply into your body. “t-that’s it, honey… use me…” you shuddered each time he swirled his wet tongue across your folds.

the weaker you became, the faster he went. the room filled with the hungry sounds of the base of his hand slapping against the entrance of your hole as he fingered you at lightning speed. his chest heaved up and down, your overstimulated moans becoming louder. “o-oh my gosh, spence… i-i… i can’t take anymore..!”

his mouth was already filling with the delicious taste of your cum, but he wanted to maximize your orgasm to its fullest. he dug into you, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he buried his face into your body, not even taking a second to breathe. his tongue hungrily ran up and down your slit, making the band in your stomach snap. “s-spencer, i’m cumming..!”

~

you snapped back to reality from the feeling of your body convulsing around your fingers. you panted rapidly, looking down and seeing the wet, sticky mess that you created all over the bedsheets. beads of sweat rolled down your forehead as you looked around the room as if you had just woken up from a nap.

your eyes landed on the clock, reading the time. 12:48am. you sighed deeply. you hadn’t meant to get lost in the overwhelming feeling, but you just couldn’t resist it. it had almost felt as if spencer was actually there. but something good had come out of it.

you found your eyelids getting heavy with exhaustion as you slipped back under the covers, pulling the blanket over your warm body and setting your head onto your pillow. you looked at spencer’s side of the bed, taking in his absence. lifting up your head, you switched your pillow with his, setting your head back down and inhaling the heart-warming scent of him, finally being blessed with the gift of sound slumber.

author's note: i'm sick :((

[lalunanymph]

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑 - itoshi r, itoshi s

✧˚ · . a tornado meeting a hurricane, a wild flame catching onto dry straw—that was how it felt like to love the both of them: disastrous.

✧˚ · . love triangles, heavy tones of ch[e]ating, mentions of alc[o]hol, mentions of food, s[m]ut, injuries, ph[o]ne seggs (w. sae), all characters are aged up, 10k+ words because im sick like that

✧˚ · . she’s finally back and ready to make everyone sob again

masterlist | playlist

#3 — HABITS OF OUR HEART

Sae frowned at his phone, unsure of what to make of your radio silence. 

It was unlike you to ever leave him high and dry. Usually, he could count on your sweet messages to sustain him throughout the day with the promise of hearing your voice at night to top off another hectic training session. The picture of you smiling on his wallpaper teased him with the yearning for home, and he thought it wouldn't hurt to give you a call to see how you were doing. 

The prolonged dial tone upped his worries, and he was close to caving in and asking Rin to check up on you (again) when you answered the call in a scratchy voice. 

“Baby?” 

Sae felt like all the air in his lungs had returned to him. “Y/N?” Unused to being this vulnerable in front of someone, his tone took a defensive turn. “Why haven’t you been texting me back lately? Is something the matter? Did I…” He hesitated, a sudden lump in his throat obstructing his next accusation. Instead, it made him whisper the next part, suddenly afraid that he had done something to push you away. “Did I make you angry?” 

Your reassurance was immediate. “Wh—no! No, Sae. We’re fine, promise. I’m just super busy at work now and putting in more hours so I can take a long leave and spend it with you.”

The steel band constricting his thoughts and breath into one tight, tense knot, eased. “Oh. Then why didn’t you tell me?” 

He hated how whiny he sounded; this wasn’t like him at all. But, you had some strange hold over him to make a self-assured famous footballer lose his footing and grovel for your attention. 

How strange. 

Sae hated this new development with every fibre of his being, but he couldn’t stay away. Your soft laugh was the sweetest balm to his bruised ego, and your avoidance did not hurt as much anymore when you cooed and asked him if he was eating well.

“I miss you s’much, Sae,” you mumbled, and he could hear minute rustling in the background, like you were laying back on your bed. The mental image of you spread out for him, pussy wet and waiting, a hazy smile playing on the corners of your lips like it always did when he was about to claim you as his again, made his cock throb. 

“Miss you, too, baby.” He padded towards the hotel room window, staring out at the traffic below. The man staring back from his reflection was more worn out than he expected, the circles under his eyes almost carved into his skin. He scrubbed one hand down his face, feeling homesick and world-weary at the same time. “Can I video-call you? Haven’t seen you in a bit.”

You didn’t miss a beat. “Sure.” 

Ending the call, he swiped at the vibrating notification which pulled up a soothing image of your smile from a thousand miles away, your eyes filling with concern when they raked up and down his weathered face. “Baby, have you been sleeping well?” 

He could barely focus on your words. His guess was right; you were laying in bed, wearing one of his old jerseys. The well-worn cotton settled perfectly on your curves and he could plainly imagine his name embossed across your back. It made all his blood and rationale run down south. Without another second of hesitation, he sat down on one of the plush hotel sofa chairs, tugging down the band of his sweatpants and grasped the pulsing base of his cock. His usually apathetic gaze was alight with an unnamed emotion, and he sensed you were waiting for a reply. 

“I will be when you’re here with me.” Fuck—what sappy, corny shit. But, Sae was starting to realise that a man at the mercy of pleasure would say anything and everything in the heat of the moment. Your half-lidded, sleepy eyes sparked with life when you heard a wet squelch. 

“Sae… baby, are you touching yourself?” 

Might as well show you since the cat was out of the bag. 

Switching from the front camera to the back one, the dual screens showed your parted lips and slowly warming cheeks while the bigger display showcased his leaking cock firmly in his fist. 

“Oh.” 

He noticed you biting your lip, and your camera switched to a front view of his jersey inching up the expanse of your bare thighs. Sae’s breath hitched when your naked pussy came into view, the teasing dark triangle between your legs hinting of your warm walls which he missed with every beat of his homesick heart. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” He started stroking himself the same moment you parted your thighs, skimming your shaky fingers down the rise of your hip bone to sweep through your seam and gather the unmistakable wetness there. Sae choked back on a moan when you focused the camera on those same fingers playing with your viscous, honey-like arousal, before plunging them back into your gaping hole and slowly fucking yourself with them.

“Sae…” 

Both your calls were silent enough to pick up on each other’s heavy breathing. It felt like months since he had your sweet pussy, and he halfway wished he was closer to home; closer to you. He missed the achingly intoxicating scent of vanilla which always seemed to emanate from the beloved crook of your neck. He yearned for your touch, your kisses, your smiles—they always managed to brighten up his day no matter how shitty it was. 

“Look at you,” he groaned. Luckily, the camera was not focused on his face—Sae was self-conscious like that. He rarely made love to you during the day time, preferring to keep his vulnerability and heart bare for you when night fell. He was determined to never let the world see this side of him where such sensitivity was reserved for your viewing pleasure only. “So fuckin’ sexy… you drive me crazy.” 

His half-mast gaze was caught on how shiny and slippery your fingers were; how you rubbed your clit and fucked yourself with three fingers until your hips started to buck.

“Nghh—Sae!” 

“That’s right,” his voice was rougher, edged with lust. “Say my name, baby. Who does that pussy belong to?” 

“Y-you,” the sharp gasp coming from his headphones almost had him spilling into his fist. “B-belongs to you, Sae.” 

He grunted, head tossed back and face shining with sweat. “Damn right—f-fuck… m’gonna cum, baby… cum with me.” 

It was not a request but an order. You had no choice but to comply if you wanted to show him the true depth of your devotion. 

An almost cruel smirk overtook his usual placid features, and he wished he was there with you to pace you through your release. Even through the small display, he could savour the visual of your back arching, your hips circling in a desperate plea to be consumed by this twinflame of burning desire you both held for one another. Sae felt his balls tightening and he bit on his lower lip to stifle a moan, streaks of white painting his palm.

“Oh, god… Sae… m’wanna lick you all up, baby.” 

In the haze of his orgasm, the impact of your words managed to strike him hard, and he halfway wished the same; that you were here, on your knees, mouth open and ready to clean up his mess. He would give you the sloppiest kiss once you did, and maybe he might even run you a bath afterwards to soothe your tense muscles.

“Mmm, tryna make me come home earlier, baby?” 

His teasing was met with silence on your end, and Sae shook off some of the lingering fugue to check if his phone had accidentally froze. 

“I don’t wanna come in between you and work, Sae.” Your mumble of discontent made him frown, and he switched his camera back to his flushed cheeks and thinned mouth. You did the same, and he could tell something was wrong because your eyes were filled with a glossy sheen of tears, and you couldn’t look at him through the screen. 

“What do you mean by that?” He didn’t intend his words to come out harshly, but Sae has always been a blunt man. He couldn’t trade a lifetime of caustic tendencies to suddenly be thoughtful and nice, though he wished in this instance, he damn well could. 

If anything, it would lighten the stormy clouds settling in your usually clear eyes; soothe the ache in your soul which missed him as much as he missed you. 

“I just… come back home when you want, Sae, and not when you think I need you.” 

A flash of hurt struck his chest, though his expression remained impassive. Despite how you had the best of intentions, he couldn’t help but be numb to your kindness and focused instead on the glaring insinuation. 

“You don’t want me to come back?” 

You blinked and your expression turned horrified. “N-no! Sae, that’s not what I meant, I—” you broke off with a tired sigh, and rubbed your temples with your clean fingers. “I just… I do miss you. But, please, focus on your work first. I’ll always be here, yeah? Come back when you need to, okay? I’m here waiting.”

Though your words made him feel marginally better, it soured some of the tenderness he wished he could savour during this afterglow. 

“Right,” he said curtly, and it wasn’t fair to you, but he started to shut down. “I’ll let you know when that is.” 

A beat of silence passed when the both of you said nothing at all. Sae suddenly felt like a neon sign was hovering over him, pulsing the words lukewarm loser lukewarm loser in his direction. A coil of anger curled heavily in his belly, making him feel slightly sick. 

“Look, if you’re not gonna—”

“I love you, Sae,” you cut through whatever harsh bullshit he was poised to spill. Your declaration took him off guard, and he clamped his mouth shut. It was a wise decision, because your smile was touched by the heavens themselves, a gentle glow about you that he did not deserve when you beamed at him through the screen. “Go make us proud. Make your country proud, baby. We’re rooting for you.”

Sae wished he hadn’t spoken too soon and acted out. He felt like the world’s biggest fool, especially when you harboured no ill-will and was just reminding him to put his goals first during this career-defining season. In this sense, he had to thank you for setting his course straight again. 

“I’ll score all my goals for you, angel,” he promised. “Each and everyone of ‘em will be in your name. I hope you know that.” 

Your smile widened. “I do, baby. I’m so proud of you. Go get them, baby.” 

He chuckled, the gesture foreign but welcomed. After all, you were one of the only few people in the world he was comfortable enough to let his guard down and laugh in front of. 

“I will. Sleep tight, Y/N. I… love you, baby.”

Another first in this relationship. 

Sae was infamous for whispering his love confessions into your skin after a bout of sex, but never in broad daylight. This sudden shift would’ve scared him shitless if your gentle beam did not turn into a bright grin. 

“I love you, too, baby.”

He let you end the call first, feeling happy for the first time in days. 

Buoyed by this gentle emotion, he searched through some local florist shops, buying the biggest, flashiest bouquet to be delivered to your apartment the first thing tomorrow evening, in the hopes that this tiny gesture would at least show the magnitude of his love for you. 

Rin couldn’t help but find himself back in front of your door. 

Like siren-song, the call of your presence beckoned him to the deepest edge of the sea where an unmistakable drop loomed, marking his impending demise. But, everytime he raised his fist to knock, he chickened out, rushing back to his car with his hoodie pulled over his head and teal eyes downcast. 

He knew he was growing obsessed with the thought of you; felt it deep in his bones like the icky, hot humiliation of staring at Sae’s trophy collection while his bruised ego festered inside, a raging monster waiting to be unleashed. He supposed this is what defeat tasted like—not like he hadn’t experienced a healthy dose of it already in his short lifetime. The mounting frustration felt familiar in the back of his throat, like a scream building and building until it was unleashed in a loud cry.

This same feeling reminded him of using his brother’s achievements to push himself beyond his limits. 

And you… 

You fit in like a missing puzzle; the crucial piece he needed as enough proof that he was better than Sae. A stronger player, man and lover than he ever would be. 

Rin wiped the sweat from his brow, channelling his inner frustrations into dribbling, training on his own away from prying eyes. He was caught up in his misery that he didn’t sense a figure making her way towards him. 

You took in how exhausted Rin looked, the bento box in your hands tightening. 

It was a peace offering; the first initiative on your end to smoothe over the rough patch of how you both began and hopefully be able to salvage what was left of his respect for you. The smell of roses lingered on your body, in your hair, the reminder of Sae’s bouquet leaving a stab of regret lodging deep underneath your rib cage where your heartbeat thumped erratically. 

Through his keen senses, Rin noticed someone approaching, and when his eyes landed on you, you swore they softened before regaining lucidity and becoming detached once more.

“What are you doing here?” 

Gesturing to the tiny, yellow container in your hand, you smiled sheepishly. “I… wanted to apologise for what happened a few days ago.” 

The field was empty save for the both of you, most of the players having gone home after hitting the showers. Rin was often one of the last to leave, and Ego had grown tired enough of his unparalleled dedication (read: obsession) and given him the keys to lock up the space in his own time. 

“How did you know I was here?” 

Shifting your weight from one foot to another, you were acutely aware of his deep frown. Suddenly, you felt too hot under the collar, embarrassment scrawled across your features when you lowered your eyes and your shoulders dropped. “I asked around for you. Said your mom passed me your dinner and they let me in.” 

Rin scrutinised you from head to toe, not saying a word. The silence stretched on, and you were halfway cajoling yourself to leave when he stepped forward. 

Yes, you were pretty sure Rin’s towering physique registered in your mind, but you never gave yourself time to really absorb how tall he was. A good head and half above you, Rin bore down easily on you, the heat emanating from his broader frame making you dizzy. The smell of freshly cut grass and musk radiated through his sweaty pores, and you felt the irrational need to take one step closer and bury your face into his chest. 

Instead, you reeled in the disastrous thought and pushed the bento box into his hand, ignoring his confused stare. 

“I should get going… you need to rest and recharge so I won’t disturb,” you mumbled hastily, unable to take another second of this aching tension. Your mind swirled with a thousand and one thoughts at the same time, and they all came crashing down when he reached for you, his touch gentle around your wrist. 

“Rin—”

There were no words to elucidate how comforting his embrace was around you, or how it felt like falling into the softest mattress after a hard day at work. Your squeak was muffled by his lips on yours, rough fingers tilting your head back to kiss you while his other arm was around your waist. You were growing dizzy from the lack of oxygen and the feel of his soft, slightly chapped lips on yours. 

Before you could dissolve into a puddle on these artificial fields, he released you, holding you close to his chest, every rise and fall of his breathing melting warmth into your back. 

Twining your fingers with his above your waist, you rubbed your thumb across his knuckles, memorising the smooth skin which was a stunning contrast from his calloused fingers and scarred palms. Rin let you hold his hand, quietly marvelling at how much bigger the flat of his palm was in comparison to yours. Long, slender fingers like a pianist encased your own smaller ones in a loose hold, and you both let the tender silence fall wherever it may. 

“I can’t choose,” you whispered after a moment of words unsaid. 

Rin stared at the curve of your shoulder, hidden by the loose cotton blouse you wore. He ached to push it aside, to press his lips right onto the warm skin which held the power to make him lose his mind. This close, he could smell the intoxicating vanilla coming from the crook of your neck, breathing in the smell of baby powder wafting from your hair. 

“I’m sorry, Rin. I can’t choose between you and him.” Closing your eyes, he felt more than heard you stifle a sob. “I love you, too. I hope you know that.” 

“But, you love him?” His voice was flat and emotionless. Thankfully, your back was turned so you couldn’t notice his brimming eyes. “Why is it so hard to choose?” 

“I don’t know,” you mumbled almost inaudibly. The wind picked up, its frigidity making goosebumps erupt on your arms. “I wish I could choose you, but it’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” he started to argue, releasing his grip on your hand and taking a step back. The inches between you both felt like an ocean separating you two, and no matter how much he wished for there to be nothing standing in the way, somehow his brother would always be the biggest obstacle to any goal he wished to attain in this life. 

Including your love. 

“S’not like you both are married,” his voice sounded hollow even to his own ears. “Don’t you love me?” 

Your breathing hitched, and you finally turned around to face him. He wished you didn’t. The tears glossing your eyes was enough to break his heart, and he wished with all his might that you would see reason; come to your senses and choose the better brother. 

But, all you did was shake your head, dislodging a single tear trickling down your cheek. He watched it make a silvery path from your jaw to your neck, his tongue itching to retrace its track. 

“I do, Rin. But, god… I don’t know you. I don’t know you but I’m so attracted to you and I can’t stop thinking about you. Sae… he called me the other day and we had phone sex, but after it was all done, all I could think about was you. You drive me crazy, and—” your voice started to break, lower lip wobbling. “I know you think I’m disgusting. A cheater. But, Sae needs me. We’ve always needed each other and I’m afraid that if I let him go, I’ll be throwing a part of me away.” 

Dropping your head, you exhaled a laugh that sounded on the verge of a sob. “Maybe it’s best if I never knew you. Or him. I think it would be easier on the three of us.” 

Rin listened as you unburdened those heavy emotions to him without a single word. When you finished, he turned his head to the side, jaw tight with fury and heartbreak.

“Fine,” he mumbled. “You’ll get your wish.” Pushing the bento box back into your hands and ignoring your small gasp of hurt, he strode away. “Let’s pretend like we never knew each other, if that makes it easier for you.”

“Rin—!” 

He quickened his pace and you tried to catch up to him. “Rin, wait!” But, he would always outrun you, and when he got to the doors, he heard your cry of his name turn into a shriek of pain. 

Turning around, his eyes widened at your hunched figure on the ground, holding onto your ankle. The bento box you carried had slipped from your grasp, grains of rice and meat scattered in a heap on the ground. 

“Ow,” you moaned, hissing in pain. “Ow. Shit… shit…”

He was back by your side immediately. Barely giving you time to think, he slid one arm underneath your knees, and another under your arms to lift you from the ground. The sudden position released the pressure off your ankle, and he didn’t need a certificate in sports medicine to know you had strained the muscle. 

“Lukewarm loser,” he muttered under his breath. “Such a huge, fucking pain.” 

You kissed your teeth and continued moaning softly, arms wound tightly around his neck. Rin sat you down on the bleachers and went into a backroom, returning a minute later with a first aid kit. Mimicking the movements you did a week ago when you first tended to his sprained oblique, he sprayed a cold mist over the injury, picking up a bandage to wrap around the torn muscle. 

“Stay still,” he warned, forming a tight tourniquet around the injury, straightening your foot to set the muscles right. Your gritted teeth and muffled wails would’ve made him mock you in return for breaking his heart, but Rin kept his lips tightly shut and focused on bandaging you up. 

You could barely walk when he was done, and in a fit of exasperation, he carried you to his car, setting you in the front seat. 

“Rin,” you mumbled pathetically, eyes shining and lower lip wobbling. “W-where are you taking me?” 

“My place,” he muttered curtly. “Unless you have someone to watch over you 24/7 while that stupid ankle of yours heals?”

Shamefully, you shook your head. Your family was in another prefecture, and your social circle was limited to clients and few fair-weather friends you saw once a month. There was no one to take care of you besides this brooding, dark-haired striker who looked like he would rather wade through molasses than do this. But, despite his disquietude, Rin took this newfound responsibility in stride. 

He brought you to his apartment, letting you lean against him as you took one mincing step after another. 

The fact that you could still walk, albeit hesitantly, was a good sign. Your injury would take a few days to heal, tops. 

Rin guided you to the sofa, and you sat with a huff. Taking off his jacket, he disappeared into the kitchen, and reemerged a second later with a bottle of isotonic drink. You took it with a nod of thanks and popped the cap off, drinking deeply. 

“What about your work? Can you move around with a busted ankle?” 

You slid your gaze to the tightly wrapped bandage and shook your head. “I don’t think I can. I’ll just let my assistant handle it for me while I take a few days off.” 

He exhaled, settling back on the end of the couch, putting some much needed distance between you two. 

“I don’t know if Sae would find out—”

“I don’t want him to find out—”

The both of you fell silent, each other’s trampling words on the same topic drawing a quiet consternation. Rin started again. 

“I think you should tell him you’re staying with a friend while your ankle heals.” 

“What if he insists on video calling me?” Your tense question was met with furrowed brows. Rin’s answer took you by surprise.

“And, what? Recognise my penthouse? Sae hasn’t visited me… not even once.” 

At the reminder of how starkly broken their relationship was, you fell mute. Rin salvaged the silence by sighing. “In any case, he wouldn’t know… or, care.” His lips were flattened into a tight line. “Sae’s a lot of things, but considerate and kind was never on his list.” 

“What happened between the both of you?” The question you had harboured for close to a week spilled over in a bursting bubble, detonating the tail end of his statement like a punch in the gut. You glanced at him and found a dark look settling over Rin’s face like a cloud, his already tight jaw ticking. 

When you first started dating Sae, it took him weeks to open up to you about his family and past life in Japan. The both of you met during one of your tours in Spain and you were called upon by the Madrid team to tend to one of their mid-fielder’s recurring injuries. Your impression of Sae when you met him for the first time was that he reminded you of a piece of paper.

His blank expression and dull eyes cracked a smile from you, and though you were the perfect picture of professional friendliness, you barely left a mark on the famed Japanese prodigy’s composure. 

At least, you thought you didn’t. 

A week later, he bumped into you at a nearby coffee shop and asked you out without a beat of hesitation. You were completely caught by surprise that you said ‘yes’ without thinking it through, and two days later, you were sat opposite a quiet, taciturn Itoshi Sae who mostly listened while you spoke and asked one liner questions to keep the conversation going.

One date turned to two, then three and soon, you were pressed flush to his bed, sweaty and sore from his rough handling. In the quiet afterglow, he started crumpling; the first crinkle appearing on his otherwise pristine surface. Behind this impassive man was a world of secrets written in indelible ink that you were slowly unwrapping day by day. 

Rin, however, reminded you of still waters that ran deeper than any ocean in the world. 

Collected on the outside, one wrong foot would leave anyone plunging to an icy death within his intense grip. He held an admirable composure which rippled occasionally when you disturbed his surface, but his state of detached calm would return a second later, barely fazed. 

It made you want to dip your toes deeper, try to find what made those murky waters eventually give way to a calm stream worthy of an oasis.  

Rin’s silence had no end, and you couldn’t tell if he had heard you in the first place. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered churlishly and stood up. 

“Oh,” you quickly nodded. “I’m sorry for encroaching. I won’t do it again if it makes you feel uncomfortable.” 

He had a funny way of showing his appreciation for you respecting his boundaries. Rin blinked owlishly, his long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. While Sae’s lashes had a hint of reddish brown to them, Rin’s was darker and lusher, framing his pretty teal eyes perfectly. 

It made you want to drown in those aquamarine pools; give yourself up to his seductive currents.

Would that be a better choice? 

You swallowed and glanced at the beads of condensation running down the plastic bottle in your tight grip. 

Would it make everyone happy if I chose him? 

He chased those heavy thoughts by scooting closer to you. The smell of sweat and vitality stung your nostrils, but you didn’t pay it any mind, tilting your head up towards him to drink in his unfairly pretty features. His dark green bangs flopped in his face, touching his cheeks as you gently pushed them aside. Rin closed his eyes tightly, releasing a tired sigh.

“Do you mean it? Do you love me?” 

Your whisper ignited his curiosity, and he fluttered his eyes open to find you gazing at him with uncertainty lining your features. You bit on your bottom lip when he took awhile to answer, riddled with fear at baring yourself with such vulnerability to a man who you didn’t even know you could trust. 

As you mulled over such a foolish impulse, Rin took this moment to rake his gaze right to your lips. Barely a few seconds into your spiralling dismay, you flicked your lids open to find him moving closer, his lips on yours silencing your sudden squeak of fear. 

This time, Rin’s kiss moulded an answer he could not give to you outright. It would be too traitorous to think of uttering it; to make himself form those words which would seal the deal. 

Catching your face in his large palm, his warmth bled into your cheek, aided by the plush balminess of his lips and the taste of him on your tongue. Tenderness could not begin to describe how Itoshi Rin was treating you—like you were made of glass and precious secrets he did not want to spill towards any undeserving ear. 

The capped isotonic bottle fell to the floor, making a ‘glug’ sound when it rolled underneath his expensive couch. Rin guided you onto your back, laying you flat on the plush surface and raking his heated stare down the dip of your bare collarbones and towards the hem of your pretty blouse riding up to expose your soft belly. 

His arousal and common sense flooded south, and he couldn’t wait to roam his hands down your sides, memorising the feel of your breath expanding through your entire body, reaching for your hips and squeezing—

“Ow—Rin!” 

He quickly jerked away like he was scalded with hot water, your teary eyes and tight grip on your wounded ankle slamming him back to reality. You curled onto yourself, riding out this wave of agony while his hands fluttered about uselessly, trying to decipher what he did wrong. 

“Knee,” you managed to wheeze out through your gritted teeth. “Your knee—oww—pressed onto my calf.” 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, easing you up into his lap to take pressure off your sore leg. “The muscle spasms must’ve reached that region.” Frowning to himself, he slid you back to the couch and lumbered into his kitchen, emerging with a packet of ice. 

Before you had a chance to protest, he lifted your injured foot and placed it on his lap, pressing the ice pack into your skin. The air filled with sounds of both your steady breathing, and you swore it chased the loneliness away and numbed you to the pain. His presence was a mark upon your soul, steadily growing deeper, and you feared to open yourself towards such reliance. 

His touch was growing familiar day by day, and you were growing susceptible to it. Even the barest brush of his thumb on your ankle bone could make you shiver. Everything about Rin drew you to a crashing stop, configuring your inner compass to point in his direction and away from the true destination you were meant to head towards. 

“You’re staring at me.” 

“You’re hard not to stare at.” 

His frown was back. “Stop that.” 

“Stop what?” 

You pressed your hand to his, feeling both the cold and unbearable warmth seep into your skin. 

Rin gave you a withering glare. “This. Stop this.” He grasped your hand and peeled it off his own, setting it down while he continued to ice your sprained muscle. 

“I thought you loved me.” 

A shadow of a smile curved on the edges of his lips. “I didn’t say it outright.” 

“Doesn’t have to be said,” you retorted, tongue-in-cheek, and he couldn’t help but smile. You found comfort in his expression, reaching out to brush the tips of your fingers across his chin. “Thank you. For this.” 

He shook his head, unable to meet your eyes. “It’s nothing.”

Rin was wrong. It meant everything to you.

Everything and more which you could never say out loud if you were to be honest with yourself for once. 

Days stretched on, and your injury started to heal. 

The pulled muscle grew stronger in tandem with your fondness for Rin, brokenness healing into whole vitality to birth something new and beautiful. 

He let you crash in his guest bedroom, made sure to stock up on ready-made food which you could easily heat up, and returned home everyday at 5 on the dot to help you stand shakily on your own two feet. It was a kindness you did not deserve, and you appreciated every drop of it. 

On the third day, Sae called you up, and you answered him with a meek voice, stating you had suffered an injury and was recovering at a friend’s place. He didn’t push you for more details, and you didn’t offer any. 

It was a perfunctory call at best, and an obligation at worst. 

Your days with Rin grew into a wonderful melange of understanding and kindness. He was a solid presence you could rely on for help when you needed a taller figure to reach for a spare bowl in the cupboard above. His wry sense of speaking evolved into a humour you appreciated, especially when he deadpanned an insult aimed at his unsuspecting teammates. His house started to feel more like a home, despite how you had to chastise yourself from going down that treacherous path.

After all, there was no better addiction than the insanity of falling in love with someone you could never have. 

Thoughts of him fueled you during the day when you stretched your muscles, used his expensive bath soap which lathered perfectly on your skin as you imagined it was his larger palms running the suds in between your breasts, down the valley of your soft belly and between the crevices of your legs. Perfumed with the scent of him, you were charmed like a maiden in love. 

When night came, you satiated yourself in his presence by watching him put on a horror movie for you both to enjoy, and sometimes, you found him nodding off to sleep at the opposite end of the couch, knocked out after a day of hard training. You would reach for a blanket and tuck it over his broader frame, peck his forehead and stumble back to your room. It amused you to no end how he could be out like a light while jump scares and screams reverberated in the background. 

His quirks were endearing as they were infuriating. 

One night, while watching a Junji Ito film, you felt Rin shift from behind you. 

Amidst gory screams and blood exploding, he touched your ankle, rubbing underneath the hard bone with mindful circles using his thumb. His breath fanned warmly across your neck, and he noticed how eclectically perfect the movie lights played out across your features. You were absorbed in this retelling, rapturous in your attention that he felt almost bad for shaking you out of it. 

His touch around your waist was hesitant, and he kept tabs on your reaction. You shifted slightly, an adorable scrunch between your brow. He wanted nothing more than to smooth the crinkle of consternation with the tip of his thumb, amused at how fully absorbed you were by one of his favourite horror movies. 

He trailed his nose across your jaw, using the corners of his mouth to kiss your chin. You batted him away with a low whine, “Rin, m’tryna watch.”

Laughing inwardly, his touch idled around your waist, spreading heat on your soft skin. Rin didn’t give himself time to think—to really gauge his true intentions when he tries to distract you. It’s a little game he wanted to play, to see how long you could hold up to his teasing. 

Lithe fingers dance down your belly, plucking at the waistband of your shorts while his other hand cautiously inched up your rib cage. There was a hitch in your breath when he slipped two fingers past the stretchy elastic of his old boxers clad around your waist, as if he were testing the waters of your consent.

But, your eyes never left the screen.

Emboldened, Rin stuck his lower lip between his teeth, growing heady on the thought of your submission on his tongue to taste. He lifted up the hem of your shirt, forgetting that you hadn’t worn a bra to sleep. You’re clad in one of his ancient jerseys which he passed to you in a fit of realisation that you had no clothes to spare when you both made the impromptu decision that you should bunk over at his place for the time being.

Such shortsightedness proved as a win when your nipples puckered from the cool air. 

His preoccupied hand down your shorts found the seam of your clit and he reeled in a curse when he felt the slipperiness of your arousal coating the roughened pads of his index and middle finger. Rin fought back a groan when you bucked your hips up, implicitly asking him for more. Both of your eyes were glued onto the screen, and Rin knew this entire sequence by heart.

He waited for the right moment when the music swelled and the heroine rounded the corner, the shadowy figure above head fully materialising behind her heaving back. You looked terrified, though you didn’t hide your face behind your palms like he expected you would do. Truly, you were braver than he gave you credit for. On screen, the actress sensed movement, and her expression melted into one of genuine terror.

Violin strings broke over in a gasping crescendo when she turned around, finally face to face with the demon who had inhabited her daughter’s body—a faceless entity with a gaping mouth. 

Rin slipped his fingers into your tight heat the same moment the big reveal happened and your reaction was instantaneous. A loud yelp ripped past your gasping mouth, and your back arched higher for him to do as he pleased. Which was a lot considering the filthy thoughts swirling in his mind—the positions he wanted to bend you in and take you till you were a sweaty, shaking mess.

He curled his fingers, languidly pumping them in and out of your slick cunt. Your breathing grew shallower, whinier, and you shifted to trap his hands between your thighs, doe-eyes flitting upwards to his own impassive ones.

“Rin—mhmp.”

Slender, callous fingers slotted past your mouth to pin your tongue down. His crisp command was clear. “Suck.” 

You did as he asked with docile perfection, looking far too precious and innocent for a woman who was gagging lightly around his fingers and undulating her hips in tight circles of pleasure. Rin’s expression remained impassive, but you could tell he was enjoying a taste of your submission from the stiffness poking your lower back. 

He pressed his fingers deeper down your soft gullet, and you gurgled, bubbles of drool forming in the corners of your mouth. You moaned pitchily when he slipped another finger inside of you to stretch you out, scissoring them to reach your innermost spots. With your eyes rolling back into your head and your mouth stuffed full with his thick digits, you felt the coil of heat in your lower belly tightening deliciously. 

Rin was starting to breathe heavier, his teal eyes melting into your wide gaze. The kiss he feathered onto your forehead was starkly different in comparison to the almost rough way he was finger-fucking you. His duality would never cease to leave you lightheaded from the joyous whiplash. One second, he could be the most puppy-like man who nipped at your feet and would follow you to the ends of the world, and in the next, he would be fucking up into you like a wild beast unleashed from years of repression. 

But, through it all, your heart never stopped singing his name. 

You never stopped loving him for even one second. 

“Rin,” you choked, tears clouding your eyes when the pleasure started reaching a point of agony. One hand was wrapped around his wrist to anchor your burgeoning dizziness, and the other curled up in a fist by your side, knuckles stretched thinly over your remaining grip on reality. 

The actress on screen had been killed off by the vengeful spirit and a seance was taking place, though neither of you noticed. All he did was click his tongue, and nodded towards the neglected movie rolling in the background. “Lower the volume—wanna hear your moans.” 

His both hands were preoccupied, so it fell onto you to stretch for the remote and bring the volume bar down. Screams, dramatic strings and outlandish humming were reduced to background noise, your scratchy moans and heavy breathing at the forefront of this auditory fest he wanted to indulge in. 

Rin dragged you closer to his chest, propping in between his two muscular thighs. Stuttering breaths caught and strained through his equally defined torso, and his entire body radiated enough heat to make you break a sweat. 

Prying his sodden fingers from your mouth, Rin resisted the urge to clasp his hand around your neck possessively when you whined and chased after them again, suckling on the calloused tips like how he imagined you would pleasure his cock. The flash of your pink tongue licking and running up and down his thick digits, peeking between the crevices where you deep-throated them with a hunger he never expected, made him realise heaven was real.

It was in the form of your warm mouth suckling him right to his knuckle while your tongue danced along the ridges of nimble fingertips and roughened skin. 

“Slut,” he rasped, fully removing his fingers and clamping them around your neck instead. 

You whined and jerked your hips up, begging him to give you something to put in your mouth as his movements below increased in their pacing. Rin was merciless when he fingered you, quickly memorising your weak spots and fully exploiting them to emerge as the ultimate puppeteer of your body. He knew the spongy spot just below your navel which made your hips twitch up like a nervous tick without fail. He knew you liked to have your clit played as he curled his fingers inside of you. His other free hand reached for your breasts, twisting and plucking your tight nipple till you keened and bowed your head back, enjoying both stimulation with a greedy desperation. 

Touch yourself for me, the memory of your spread legs atop his luxurious blue silk bed sheets and his heated teal eyes latched onto your gaping cunt nearly made you cum right there and then. Show me how you pleasure yourself so I can learn. 

And what a fast learner he was. 

“R-Rin, m’gonna—”

In a flash, his fingers squelched out of your cunt. 

Your cry was part indignation and disappointment. Placating you, Rin stuck his fingers back down your throat for you to clean up. Obediently, you lapped at the salty-sweet stickiness with half-mast eyes, your pussy sucking his other pair of fingers in deeper. Fuck, he almost groaned out loud. I need to have her. 

Rin could barely wait to pry his fingers out of your mouth and perfect cunt to position you on his lap. Perched prettily with hazy eyes and a swollen mouth, his cock ached to be buried in you. Soft pants fell from your parted lips, and you buried your fingers in his hair needily, rocking your core over his leaking bulge. 

“Need more,” your desperate whine made him almost feral with desire. “Need you, Rin-Rin.” 

That nickname falling like a sweet drop of dew from your honeyed lips snapped his patience. Pushing down his pants, his cock sprung out, slapping his lower belly and smearing a bit of pre on the toned muscle. He ripped the old jersey off from your frame, uncaring that you cried out in pain when the hem caught and tugged on your earring. All he did was pinch and lick your nipples into stiffness as you struggled to untangle the fabric from the caught hook. 

Once the knotted thread was free from the sterling hook, he urgently tossed his jersey aside, focused on your shorts now. He pitched his head forward to rub his burning cheeks in between your breasts, mouthing and licking the plush flesh while he kneaded your ass eagerly. You lifted his face from the refuge of your body to smash your mouth sloppily onto his, and in the background, the credits rolled, a slow, sombre tune which lended a touch of melancholy to this heated scene. 

Ripping the worn out shorts off your frame, he laid your bare body flush against his. The press of both your weights on his tailbone made it hurt, but it was worth the pinch of discomfort when you lifted your hips and gently grasped the base of his drooling dick. Giving it a few pumps, Rin’s loud gritted teeth and flushed cheeks spoke volumes of his tethering patience. 

He was close to snapping at you to push him inside of you when you grasped the leaking head and gently nudged it past the tight, maddening muscle. No matter how many times you let him in, it still felt like the first time. 

Despite the stretch, his girth and the sting it took for you to take him fully, you always did it like a champ without complaint. You would always, without fail, kiss him when he bottomed out inside of you—a soft peck of your lips on his that ignited his flame of obsession for you even more. 

The way how your warmth melted around him like a velvet popsicle could’ve filled his chest with all the happiness in the world. Your strained moan, like you were pushing your ample desire past a sieve, would fill him with burning pride at being yours.

Because as much as you belonged to him, he belonged to you, too. 

Those thoughts barely made a dent on his composure; what did was the sight of your pussy wrapped almost lovingly around his cock, the slick flesh sliding up and down his thick length, leaving rings of white from base to tip. 

“Fuck, baby,” he cussed, grabbing onto your hips, mesmerised by the sight unfolding before him. “S’fucking good slut… so wet f’me…”

You took his praise in stride, letting it fuel you to please him even more. Pressing your palms flush on his shoulders, you used the strength of your thighs to pump, swivel and buck your hips—riding his cock with a passion he had never seen a woman possess. It blew his mind, leaving him gaping, groaning and woozily locking eyes with you. 

Rin’s fleeting kiss on your forehead was done in an unsteady motion, and his grip tightened on your body till you swore he would leave bruises behind. His breath was hot on your chin, and his tongue was back in your mouth, desperately tangling with your own tongue. 

One large hand slid from your hip to between your legs, his thumb finding purchase on your slick clit, rubbing tight circles to stimulate you on both ends. You tightened your grip in his hair, and undulated your hips in quicker circles, breath coming out in laboured pants. 

Rin ducked his head to take one hard nipple in his mouth, suckling on the throbbing flesh and tonguing it until it went completely hard enough to cut diamonds. He pulled back slightly, strings of spit connecting his mouth to the heaving flesh, and he kissed around your areola, smearing saliva and his devotion across your skin. 

You squeezed down on him the same moment he took your tight bud back into his mouth, happily licking and sucking it like it was his favourite candy. 

Not many words were shared between you two, but it wasn’t necessary; the whispers of your body and heavenly sounds of ecstatic moans and grunts were enough to transcend the boundaries of speech. The sloppiness of your sexes connecting was loud in the quiet, filling his home with the stinging scent of sweat, musk and wild desire. 

The sight of your tits jiggling in his face, your hips stuttering and pussy dripping around his pulsing length nearly triggered Rin’s release. But, he held back by picturing gory murder and disembowelment scenes, breath growing heady and heavier. 

Your own breathing was becoming stuttered, and electrifying his ego to great heights. He was close to breaking his own rule to never mark up a woman that wasn’t his, when his control dissipated and his lips were latched around your pulse point. The hot seal of his mouth on such a delicate stretch of skin made you throb all over, and you didn’t push him away, tilting your head back to receive him even if it would leave a mark—letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 

“Fuck,” he moaned in between desperate suckles. Hot open-mouthed kisses fell intermittently like a summer drizzle on your collarbones and shoulders, but his lips would always return to that same spot which was starting to burn from his branding. 

You whined and arched your back, turning around to glimpse both of your figures on the darkened TV screen. The stretch of his cock prying you open was magnificent, nearly making you cry out with euphoria. His muscular, thick thighs on either side of you were trembling, and the sight of his big hands on the delicate curve of your spine made you think the unholiest thoughts when it came to staking your claim on Itoshi Rin.

Returning the favour of his mark on your neck, you pressed your lips to the spot underneath his right ear, sucking the sensitive skin there in between sloppy kisses up and down his throat. Rin’s hot breath fanned across your shoulder, leaving you intoxicated on his passion and desire. 

His hips bucked up into yours, and he pressed your lower body flushed to his hard enough for his pubic bone to grind against your clit. The action, combined with his mouth back on your nipples, was enough to tighten the string of desire deep in you towards its breaking point. 

“Rin… oh god… Rin…” 

He has never paid much attention to how his name sounded like coming from anyone, but when it was you, he found that the cadence of it was far more magical than he expected. 

“Y/N,” he reciprocated in his strained, low baritone. “Fuck… so well for me…”

Disjointed words, heavy breathing and grabby hands made a hazy mark in your dizzy mind. 

You were so far gone that all it took was a few precise circles on your clit with his thumb to get your release crashing down, triggering his own. 

The sensation of your pussy melting around him had Rin seeing stars behind his tightly closed lids. His stuttered growl of your name was buried in your neck, and with a few more thrusts, he spilled fully into you; white hot strings of pure fertile devotion pumped deeper into you with a few more sloppy thrusts. 

“Rin… oh… shit, baby.” You cursed the same moment you tiredly smushed your lips to the corner of his mouth. “Oh my god, baby…”

You had never came at the same time as a lover in your entire life, and the experience was enough to render you speechless with a cresting emotion you could not name. Hot tears slipped from your closed eyes and splashed onto his shoulder. Rin didn’t point them out, nuzzling your cheek tiredly to comfort you. 

Exhaustion fell over both of you like a warm blanket. Both your limbs were tangled, slotting naturally like pieces meant to fall upon the other. His breath stirred your hair and your lips were pressed to his neck, his arms a tight vine around your torso. 

You played with the dark locks at the nape of his neck, marvelling at how soft they were. 

“What’s on your mind?” Rin’s soft question knocked you out from your reverie, and you tried (and failed) to hide your growing smile. 

“Nothing,” you mustered, pressing a quick kiss to the developing mark under his ear. He wasn’t amused by your deflection, smacking your bottom lightly. 

“Tell me.”

Biting your lower lip, you pried your face from its sanctuary of his neck, fixing him with a tender smile—one that knocked the breath from his lungs.

“I was thinking about you… and us… and how I want this to never end.” 

Whatever that sparked between the two of you seemed to grow out of control like a wild flame; razing down the steep trees shading his consciousness as easily as if they were straw dolls. Instead of being terrified, Rin found such destruction beautiful, the glow of the flames drenching him with warmth, the thunderous falling wood filling his ears with brown noise. 

“Yeah?” he goaded the flames further, fanning them into a high arc through his slowly growing smile. “And why is that, baby?” 

“Because I’m in love with you, Itoshi Rin, and I want to be with you.” 

Your next words made an explosion ring in his ears, pushing him to discard every shred of rationality just to keep you by his side for as long as the world kept on spinning.

“I’m breaking up with Sae the first thing tomorrow morning.” 

TWO DAYS AGO

Sae had no idea how he found himself back in this club. 

The pulsing lights, neon strobes and loud music weren’t exactly up to his standards, but he gritted his teeth and bore it for the sake of his team. 

It was a joint birthday celebration—some young asshole together who had the same birthdate as Leonardo. The club was in full swing, and Sae just wanted to go home and sleep off another rough training session. But, it was as if his teammates had a radar to his burgeoning displeasure. They roped him in for a drinking competition with loud jeers; plied him with shots till the lights lost their edge and he was actually starting to enjoy the music. 

Of course, with word of the arrival of the Spanish football team, came the trail of money-hungry whores. They walked over, plastered on fake faces and bodies with their syrupy smiles and talons waiting to sink into the first available man. Those who didn’t have a woman waiting for them back home took the opportunity to flirt, dance and drink together with them while others like him stood by the sidelines, respectfully detached from the entire scene.

The alcohol was wearing off in his system, and he was starting to get sleepy. Sae signalled to Leo, catching the hulking man’s eye from across the dancefloor and gestured towards the exit sign. I’m leaving.

Leonardo Luna pursed his lips, an overgrown blond baby when he shook his head, making puppy dog eyes that would’ve had anyone caving in. Stay for a little bit, you loser—those eyes seemed to say. 

Sae shook his head, a smirk worming on his lips. The other men wouldn’t get it. He had plans to make and a flight to book back home. 

Turning his back, he fished for his phone in his pocket, pulling up your chat. The text he sent you a few hours ago remained unread, and despite how much he wished he could fix this, there was nothing else he could do but return back to Japan and see you again. 

I hope you sleep well tonight, baby. 

He sighed, and pocketed his phone again. There must be a reason why you were acting so distant. 

Sae must’ve done something; said something that didn’t sit right with you. But, no matter how many times he wracked his brain for an inkling of what he did, he would come back empty-handed and slightly more frustrated than before.

Just as he was about to round the corner and walk out of the club, someone ran into him. He could tell it was a woman from the flurry of brown hair which jerked back, and her soft gasp followed with an embarrassed apology. 

Sae blinked, unperturbed and was about to walk away when she called for him back. “Excuse me, sir?” The lilt in her voice sounded vaguely familiar, tasting of home, and when he turned back to fully drink her in, he found her features to be the same ones he saw from the women back in Japan and he instantly relaxed. 

Switching straight into Japanese, he mumbled, “Yeah?” 

In her hands, she held his phone, the lighted screen showing a text message in the notification bar. He took it from her, and she bowed her head in apology once more. “I’m sorry for being so clumsy, I didn’t—wait—you can speak Japanese, too?” 

Sae nodded in confirmation. “I assume you’re from there?” 

Her expression broke into one of relief, a kindling comradeship every human had when they met someone from their home country in a foreign land. “I am. I’m from Kanagawa. And you?” 

Something electric ran down his spine at her words, and he bit back on a wistful smile, keeping his expression neutral to not scare her off. “Same here. What’re you doing in Madrid?” 

The more he spoke to her, the more he realised how her brown eyes which matched her hair seemed to spark back to life. She spoke freely of her job here as a reporter, how much she missed home and strangely, natto. He had to laugh at that, reminded of the fermented beans which were a great companion to rice—the ones which Rin, back when they were kids, would always pull a face at and pass it to him under the table when they’re mother wasn’t looking. 

He told her of his life as a football player and she made a sound of recognition when he told her his name. 

“Itoshi Sae.” Something about how she said his name, sent a shiver through him—a traitorous one which reminded him of you. 

(Fuck, he almost forgot he had a woman waiting for him back home). 

“I hope our paths will cross again someday, Sae.” 

He didn’t reply, nodding in acknowledgement. 

“Wait!” Before he left, she passed him her business card and cheekily said, “In case you want to help a lost Japanese woman find good food around here.”

She handed him a glossy card complete with her name and phone number on it. Noguchi Jina. A pretty name. Of course. She would be living in Madrid for two years and welcomed any help in navigating the big city. 

Despite the warning bells chiming in his head, Sae took the tiny, glossy rectangle with another nod. “We’ll see when I’m free.” 

He ducked his head and walked out of the club, the card he held in his hand burning warmly. Letting go of it, he removed his phone, and it was stupid, really, how his heart kicked up a notch when he saw your name on the screen, before it crashed down with a lingering sense of guilt. 

It was strange—he did nothing wrong, but why did the sight of your sweet message (‘Goodnight Sae, dreaming of you tonight ♡’) fill him with guilt? He didn’t sleep or flirt with anyone; he felt like his mind was playing a sick trick. Maybe he missed you a little too much—felt like he wasn’t giving you enough attention that the reminder of any woman who wasn’t you filled him with shame. 

I should go back to see her. Deciding that it was enough of a reason to take a few days off, Sae texted his manager to let him know he was off for a few weeks, and that he would be back in Japan to spend the holidays. His next course of action was to leave his mom a voicemail that he would take the entire family for a trip to the Hokkaido mountains—yes, including Rin.

Call it sentimental, but he missed those family holidays they used to go on before he moved to Spain, and he wanted to be reunited under the same roof with the people who missed him the most (yes, this included Rin). 

The idea of such a trip filled him with a quiet joy he did not know how to express beyond a small grin, and as he booked his ticket for home, he pictured the wide smile on your face the moment he showed up at your apartment, suitcase and heart open for you to give him a home during his entire stay.

His mother texted him back the same moment his manager gave him the okay. Since it was off-season for Rin, too, he had the time to spend together with his suddenly nostalgic nii-chan who wanted to start making amends for the shit he put his otouto through. 

They were both grown men now, and Sae was coming to find that the older he got, the more he found himself reluctant to hold onto grudges. 

Which was why when Hana told him it was a lovely idea, he couldn’t keep his excitement down when he texted her back: 

Don’t tell Y/N or Rin. I want it to be a surprise. 

Her response was warm and welcoming. 

Of course. Come back home safely, Sae.

Home. He would be going home.

(To you.) 

I’m breaking up with Sae the first thing tomorrow morning.

What a lie that turned out to be. 

It seemed as if the universe had it out for you when you woke up in Rin’s arms the next morning, heart full and head woozy. Your lover was also stirring awake next to you, running his fingers up and down your spine which stretched and arched open for him like a well-loved book. 

“G’morning,” he murmured huskily, sleep still heavy in those gorgeous teal eyes and a small smile etched on his swollen lips. You wished him back and snuggled closer to his side, one arm slung haphazardly across his chest, feeling his steady breathing lulling you back into a doze.

Absent-mindedly, you felt him press a soft kiss to your temple, taking a brief pause to inhale the sweet smell of baby powder from your locks. 

“Are you sniffing my hair?” you teased and he clicked his tongue. 

“Smells good. In fact—” Rin rolled you onto your back, his weight pressing you fully into his mattress. Your sprained ankle was about healed and it barely stung when it was tucked under his calf, calmed by his intoxicating warmth. “—I wanna eat you whole.” 

You hummed, “Why’re you so… big?” 

The thin white shirt he wore to sleep stretched over his broad pecs which were shaking with a small laugh. You couldn’t see his face, but you assumed he was wearing a smirk. “Big in what way?” 

Huffing, you smacked his shoulder. “Your height, dummy. What else would I be talking about?” 

Rin found himself growing more comfortable with you in more ways than he had ever felt around another human being. The defences he held onto tightly for his entire life seemed to fracture and crack around the edges, giving him a sliver of understanding that this was what it was like to connect with another person.

This was how he thought someone would start to fall in love with everything—stupid jokes, colours, new experiences, the sound of tinkling laughter… and something—someone else—entirely.

(This was how it felt like to fall in love with you). 

He was about to retort with a lewd comment which was starkly out of character from his usual detached and withdrawn personality, when your phone vibrated with an incoming call.

His brother’s name on the screen set fire to the lingering joke poised to roll off his tongue, withering his courage and conviction into ashes. The both of you didn’t know what to do; how to react.

The bed had turned from an oasis to an impending warzone.

You shook out from your reverie first to pick up your phone, knuckles starkly pale and a clench in your jaw which reminded him of how the muscle would tighten just when you were about to cry. 

But, you remained dry-eyed and brave, firm in your decision to end it with his nii-chan and choose him. 

“Sae?” 

Rin didn’t need you to put your phone on speaker to hear Sae’s impatient question which reverberated across the room like a distant echo; calling the both of you back to this grim reality—one where the afterglow of last night’s love-making could not protect. 

“Where are you? You’re not home?” 

“Hmm? What do you mean—?”

The colour drained from your cheeks and Rin’s breathing was lodged painfully in his throat when he heard the faint murmur of his brother’s next words—sounding both confused and irritated at your absence. 

“I’m standing outside your apartment,” A deathly pause where two guilty souls and one oblivious one engaged in this fatal romance, this dangerous dance which was waiting to explode up in flames across the screen like a car crash one can’t look away from. 

“I’m back home, baby. Where are you?” 

©️lalunanymph

[hyena-shark-rusty]

Typing Quirks - Spacekin

S p a c e o u t y o u r t e x t ! !

Use "**" around your sentences to represent stars! - ** Like this! **

Alternatively, use "::" - :: Like this! ::

Use purple and blue text!

Use (admittedly corny) space-related puns - space-tastic (fantastic), star-tacular (spectacular), etc.

Use regal or flowery language - "ethereal, gorgeous, ecstatic"

Keep in mind that some of these will require translations for folks who have a hard time reading complex quirks or who use screen-readers!

Requested by @januscorner!!

[holdupjack]

Waking Up Next To You

——————

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

AU: Present Time/In Their Late 20’s

WARNING: None

——————

Hermione's P.O.V:

"Mione?"

"Hm?"

"Are you sleeping?"

"I was...but I heard an angel call for me"

"That's corny"

My eyes peels open to find my wife hovering over me with a soft smile.

"What is it my love?" I ask and she just continues to smile.

"Good morning" Y/n whispers as she leans down and captures my lips.

I hum happily as my hand reaches up and caresses her face, my other hand finding a spot on the back of her neck.

As she tries to pull away, I whine for another kiss, which I'm happily given.

"I have to make breakfast" she mumbles against my lips and I hum.

"Just five more minutes" I whisper and she chuckles.

"Alright Granger, five more minutes" Y/n whispers back as I pull her body on top of mine.

I gently begin to place feather like kisses on her face, she counts them under her breath as my finger tips fall to her waist.

"Can't we just stay like this?" I ask between each kiss.

"We have to eat" she answers and I groan in annoyance, pull her closer to me and burying my face against her neck.

"How about this, I order Uber Eats, and we'll just sleep in today?" She asks and I giggle like a little kid.

"That sounds amazing" I mumble against her skin.

I sit up, her legs wrap around my waist as Y/n reach's for her nightstand.

When she sits back towards me, she hands me the remote and immediately wraps her arms around my body.

Her chin rests on my shoulder as I flip to the news channel, I can hear Y/n's phone as she types, she hums a quiet tune in my ear.

"Expect showers till late this afternoon..."

I roll my eyes at the same old anchor and the same old weather of the U.K.

"It's cuddle weather" I sigh as my arm tightens around her and as I kiss her shoulder.

"It always is" Y/n laughs in my ear and I smile.

"That's why I like living here" I chuckle back and I could feel her eyes roll.

As I flick between stations, Y/n begins to name off restaurants.

"How about that local restaurant near here? You like their beans and toast" she says I nod.

"Good idea" I whisper as I kiss the side of her head.

I reach my hand up and slowly rub her back up and down. She sighs happily and shivers slightly, causing me to chuckle.

"It'll be here soon"

I hum and place the remote down, letting myself get lost in her warmth and company.

"I love you Y/n Granger" I whisper and she quickly answers me.

"I love you too Hermione Y/l/n"

If the butterflies in my stomach could flutter any faster, I swear I could start floating.

"When you say that, you make me want to retire already and stay like this forever" I whine as I push her onto the bed and hover over her.

Her smile shines as the soft sound of 'The Golden Girls' theme plays from the T.V.

"The Wizarding World needs you Minister" she chuckles and I groan placing my forehead on her shoulder.

"No" I whine and she just laughs, pulling my face up and giving a soft kiss to my greedy lips.

"No complaining, you love you're job" Y/n chuckles out as we pull away.

"But it keeps me away so much, this is my first day off in months!" I sigh, laying myself on top of her.

"I know 'Mione, but you're such a good Minister. That's why you work such long hours, to save the Wizarding World from itself" she says and I sigh again, mumbling a few 'stupid people' and 'dumb magic' from my lips.

Y/n just laughs, running her hand through my tangled hair and drawing shapes into the exposed part of my back.

"Can we just go back to our Hogwarts days?" I ask and Y/n hums.

"You really want to fight again?" She asks and I roll my eyes, sitting up and straddling her hips.

"No, I mean when it was just you and me...when we would sit in my room and stare out the window at all the stars, or late at night when we would sneak into the room of requirement and slow dance to music" I sigh and Y/n smiles.

"You just want to have our 'no responsibility' moments again?" She asks and I smile back.

"Yes, I want to just spend my time on earth with you" I whisper as I lean down and kiss her nose.

Knock! Knock!

"I got it" I hum as I kiss her lips once more and hop off the bed.

Quickly, I walk out to the front door and grab the food from the ground. I hear a soft meow as I shut the door, I look at the table to find Crookshanks the Second staring at me.

"There you are" I chuckle out as I walk back to the bedroom, with him in tow.

"Delivery!" I sing out as I walk back inside, to find my wife staring very intently at her phone.

"What are you looking at?" I ask and she hums.

"The Quibbler, seems Luna might think social anxiety might be apart of some fairy" she hums and I nod, setting down the bag at the foot of the bed.

She turns off her phone, and looks at me with a soft smile. I look between the T.V and the bag as I sort everything out.

"Where are you going?"

"To either get ice cream or commit a felony. I'll decide in the car"

I chuckle at the classic sitcom as I pass Y/n her food and the silverware that came with it.

"Can you believe they're all gone now?" Y/n asks and I laugh a little at the now funny memory.

"I just can't believe you called me crying, and made me leave work hysterical, thinking that something was wrong" I sigh and she just laughs loudly.

"It's Betty White! Everyone was crying!" She defends and I just chuckle again.

"I know my love" I hum as I sit down next to her with my food.

As we eat, Y/n's phone goes off a few times but she doesn't look at it, but she has a grin on her face.

"What are you up to?" I ask, a grin of my own forming.

"Nothing, why?" She asks as her smile drops and I roll my eyes.

"Dove, we've been together for eleven years, I know when you're hiding something" I say and she just rolls her eyes back at me.

"I just ordered some stuff from Amazon, I got  confirmation texts" she answers and I hum.

"What did you buy?" I ask and Y/n just looks at back at the T.V.

"Some more supplies for you, and some more food for Crook" she answers and I look at her a moment.

She's not telling me everything.

I chuckle softly and lean over, kissing her cheek.

"Alright my love"

——————

It was now late, almost 9 o'clock at night.

I hum quietly to myself as I go through some emails on my phone, my hair wrapped in a towel from my recent shower.

Y/n was cleaning some of the dishes when suddenly the house goes quiet.

"Y/n?" I call out but get no answer.

As I'm about to get up and look for her, she emerges into the room with a huge Amazon box.

Crookshanks runs through her legs and jumps up at the foot of the bed.

"What's this?" I chuckle out as she places it on the ground.

"You'll see" Y/n says happily as she opens it easily.

"I knew you had something up your sleeve" I mumble as I sit up, placing the towel from my hair in my nightstand.

"Close your eyes!" She says and I roll my eyes.

"Baby-" I'm cut off as she throws the towel at my face and falls to my lap.

I laugh, letting a snort escape me as I shake my head and doing as she says.

My mind wonders about what she could be planning.

A few times I could feel my hairs stand on end and goosebumps cover my arms when she'd places a kiss on my lips randomly.

A good twenty minutes go by of me hearing shuffling around the room, before the lights are shut off.

The bed dips beside me and I feel Y/n wrap her arm around me, pulling me down to lay next to her.

"Okay, open your eyes"

As I do, I'm greeted by the sound of slow music playing and the sight of the stars on the ceiling.

Im speechless.

"Well, since we can't go back in time, I decided to bring it to the future" she laughs out as I look over at her.

"You enchanted the ceiling?" I ask and she nods.

Suddenly Y/n sits up and grabs the Amazon box from the floor, I sit up too and rest my chin on her shoulder.

I look inside to find my favorite snacks and alcohol, with a few of her favorite stuff as well.

"I don't know what to say" I whisper, pressing a kiss to her neck.

"You don't have to say anything, I didn't do this for brownie points or something." She whispers and I slips my fingers with hers.

"Why did you do it then?" I ask as my favorite slow dancing songs play.

"I did it because I always want you to know that I'll always look at you and see the girl from fifth year that I fell in love with" Y/n mumbles as her eyes stare at the illusion, a shooting star goes by.

She closes her eyes and I feel my heart beating like it did on our first date at the Library.

"What did you wish for?" I whisper and she looks at me with a small smile, kissing my lips as well.

"That I'll always wake up with you by my side"

[ghoulsanderson]

Furthering my Mike Wheeler gets vecna'd in s5 agenda

(also a corny will byers has powers entrance at the end) (also not so sneakily encouraging others to write more Vecna Possessing Mike Wheeler fics) (If you do pls tag me I'm addicted to them)

-----------------------

Vecna knew Michael Wheeler. Had known him since a fated night in 83' when he'd seen him through the lens of his Demogoron, fighting stubbornly for Will, for Eleven, for everyone.

He'd known him in the lab when terror shook him to his bones, but his feet stayed planted at Will's bedside like a stubborn weed. When he foiled his plans time and time again.

He'd known him in Starcourt when he threw himself in the line of fire for Eleven.

Vecna knew him as the wrench in his plans, the thorn in his side, the boy braver than most, which is why he thought this would be a lot harder. He expected Mike to fight, to yell, to escape, to writhe and struggle.

And he had, momentarily. Mike had run away, cursed him and spewed insults, but the instant the vines entrapped his arms and legs, he fell like a puppet with his strings cut in what looked like near-relief. Like the chase had been routine, robotic, and he'd never planned on surviving at all.

He'd been in the boy's head, so he thought he knew the ins and outs of Mike Wheeler. He knew the dark thoughts Mike had at night, the rare visits to the quarry, where he sat under the stars and weighed the pros and cons of jumping, the dreams he had that should be nightmares where El didn't save him at all.

He knew this.

And yet, in the end, he still expected more of a fight.

"Giving up so easily?" He taunted as his vines pulled Mike up to the pillar, wrapping around his neck, waist, and thighs, though he wasn't sure he needed that much security.

Mike scoffed, splattered with blood from his falls, covering his face like red freckles and spilt across his yellow hoodie, "You've got me. Fuck else can I do?"

Vecna chuckled, stroking a finger down Mike's cheek like he was endeared, "Not even a beg?"

"Like I'd beg to you." Mike rasped, the vine around his neck tightening until his eyes bulged, sure it was going to break him.

Vecna grinned, "You're letting me kill you?" He cocked his head and pinched Mike's chin, forcing the boy to face him, "You're going to make your friends and family watch you die?"

Mike convulsed with a raspy shout, "Fuck you!" He coughed, gasping for air, "I'm n-not doing s-shit!"

Vecna's beady eyes stared at him, dissecting him like a bug under a magnifying glass, "Did you hope for the hero way out?" He asked, sinister, mocking laughing bubbling in his throat, "Did you hope I'd kill you in some sad twist of fate and they'll mourn you and curse my name? Never knowing that you got what you wanted."

Mike tried to growl, to shout a refusal, but it broke into a litter of sobs, cracking out of his throat, his tears parting the blood on his face.

"I could." Vecna cooed, wiping away a tear, "I could kill you now and use your tragic willingness to kill William later."

"Fuck you!" Mike wailed, trying for the first time to tug his wrists free, "E-El w-will save me a-any... any min-minute now! Y-You won't tell t-them s-shit!"

He nearly gagged at the pressure on his adams apple, vision blurring as he failed to suck air into his lungs.

Vecna sighed, "But they already know, Mike." He leaned forward, watching pure horror start to mould its way onto Mike's face, "She's here... watching... she's been watching all this time... but she can't save you. I won't let her."

Mike's whimper broke, his struggling becoming weaker and weaker as his air ran thinner, "I-I'm sorry..." He sobbed, and Vecna knew he wasn't talking to him this time.

His caress on Mike's face morphed, becoming rough nails digging into his scalp, leaving crescent marks that bled, "It's time."

He leaned his head back, his power travelling like fire through Mike's body down to his ankles, his knees and his arms, where he started snapping them one by one.

Left leg, right arm, right leg-

"Get away from him!!"

Vecna roared as he was slammed through the wall of his decrepit house. He considered fighting back, but the force pinning him down was ignited such fury, pressing him down like he was being buried alive. He felt it on his fingertips, his legs, his body, and his face. He felt it crushing his neck and squeezing the air out of him.

In a spur of fear, he fled, disappearing to the safety of his demonic realm in a cloud of smoke.

Will panted, blood pouring from his nose and ears, but he found the strength to sprint, "Mike!" He wailed, catching the other boy's body as he fell like a ragdoll, bloodied, injured, and unconscious, "Mike! God, no, no, no, no, please! Please wake up-, please. I love you!"

El joined his side, sickened by her failure. Again. She'd failed again, "Mike!" She cried, collapsing onto his chest, hugging him where he lay in Will's lap, "Mike..."

***

The group was a wreck, everyone trying to comfort each other but falling apart themselves.

Lucas had thrown up into the grass, heaving with sobs. He felt useless, just standing by, but he couldn't- he couldn't do this again. And Dustin tried to comfort him, but he was crying so hard he couldn't even hug him.

Nancy couldn't cry. This didn't feel real, her brother hovering in the sky. She grasped her gun like it would help, standing frozen. No. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. In no universe could Mike die. He couldn't.

Her boyfriend was trying to comfort her, but he was a wreck himself. Mourning for Mike like he was his little brother. Nancy knew Mike was, to Jonathan, a brother in everything but blood. Mike knew Jonathan loved him, would do anything for him, would die for him.

Did he know Nancy would do that too?

El's eyes were rolling under her eyelids, Will had collapsed from the stress, and Mike was going to die-

Nancy screamed, falling into Robin's arms as Mike's leg snapped, and his arm, and his other leg, "No!" She wailed, on her knees, like she was praying to the deities, "No! No, please! Mike!"

"Mike!" Lucas screamed into the grass, the agony was driving him crazy, pulling at his mind like a knot, and Dustin wasn't fairing much better, anguished like he was staring into the face of his own death.

Not their paladin. Please.

But then Mike fell, spared by some miracle, into the arms of his family, "Mike!" Nancy shrieked, pulling her brother close and cradling him like a baby, "Mike- wake up, y-you're okay, you're okay, right? You're fine, wake up..." She whispered, pressing their heads together.

Mike's limbs bent at funny angles, and blood crusted in the creases of his eyebags, his complexion waxy grey, "Mike." She sobbed, "Mike, what am I supposed to tell Mom and Dad? Fuck... w-what a-am I supposed to tell H-Holly?"

Steve checked for a pulse with a hand that shook so hard his wrist ached, and slumped in relief to find one, "I-I'll call an ambulance!" He shouted and sprinted away.

As Dustin and Lucas cried over their friend, Will and El began to wake, their tears following into the unconscious.

Unfortunately, Mike woke too.

His eyelids lifted, and his usual midnight-brown eyes had paled to an unnatural copper, misted with white fog, "W-Will?" He rasped, blinking through his blurry haze, "O-Ouch- ouc- fuck!" He threw his head back, the pain hitting him like a truck, "W-Will?!"

Will wobbly crawled to him, "I-I'm here!" He wailed, "I'm here."

Sirens began to whisper in the distance, growing closer and closer, "Help is a-almost here." El stammered, taking Mike's hand, "You'll be okay!"

"I-It hurts..." Mike rasped, his chest heaving with rapid breaths, "I-It hurts."

Nancy sniffled, pressing a kiss to his forehead, "I-I know," She stroked his hair, "I know, but you just stay awake."

Mike whimpered, eyes searching for her desperately beyond the blur, "I-I do-don't think I-I want to g-go..." He whispered.

---------------------

and I have to end it there for now, I gtg.

Hope you enjoyed!

[ranciddrobbie]

The cast is fucking stacked with talent as well as the crew and then the show is just…. kinda lame. All the fucked up shit viv has done aside the writing is just kinda forgettable on its own. i couldnt tell you the plot of more than like- two episodes maybe?

AND WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE DADDY ISSUES? LIKE IT WAS FINE WHEN IT WAS JUST ONE DUDE BUT ITS LIKE- E V E R Y O N E. next we’re gunna find out husk’s dad was an alcoholic and the plot of the episode will be husk breaking the cycle or some corny shit. Its lame and overdone

again, i wont go into the whole “viv is a evil bitch” shit because frankly i do not have the energy to go over all that (plus i dont even know most of it because once more i do not care) but yea its just meh

THEY FUCKING PUT AUTOTUNE ON B R O A D W A Y S I N G E R S FOR GODSAKE LIKE THIS SHOW IS A JOKE!

dont get me wrong it has some interesting aspects but for every good thing theres 3 bad things- my most specific gripe is alastor being super “Hm yes this man is from the depression hes very old school in his speaking and beliefs” and then have him turn around and insult his rival by saying “Hes pissy thats the tea” like some fucking modern day highschooler gossiping

A lot of the show feels like a fanfic of itself. the comedic writing is just “wouldnt it be funny if” in a setting and story where that “if” feels very out of place

Like again using alastor as example, yea its funny to see an old man call someone “pissy” as its out of character for an old timer like him to say but itd be MUCH funnier if he said some old timey jargon like “sowerpuss” or some shit to his more modern and forward thinking rival.

And once alastor swears once that whole “he doesnt swear hes polite and conservative” rule goes out the fucking window which would be funny…. if every other character didnt swear every two seconds (yea i do that in real life but it can get annoying in shows especially when its overused for comedy)

I just had to rant about it cuz when i was 13 i had such high hopes for the show and then it was just disappointing to watch helluva get lamer and lamer and then see hazbin suffer the same fate.

Its crew is stacked. its cast is stacked. the show is lame.

It is a machine thats sum is less than its parts

(side note- why the fuck is helluva a goddamn mellowdrama now that shit was supposed to be a comedy whered the goddamn plot of them killing living people for dead people go it had a cool concept what happened)

me when the hazbin pilot came out:

Holy shit this is groundbreaking! Its amazing that an indie crew could pull this together!

Me watching the amazon show:

Where Did We Go Wrong

[501stlothcat]

The Snyder Cut:

INJUSTICE STORYLINE? APOKALYPSE WAR? DEATH IN THE FAMILY?? FLASHPOINT? HELLO YES?? THIS IS ALL IVE EVER WANTED.

[goosewriting]

My name looks good on you (rottmnt x reader)

summary: you gift your turtle a bracelet with your name on it

relationship: Rise Leo, Raph, Donnie, Mikey x reader (separate)

warnings: pure fluff asfasdf

word count: 2857

A/N: very self indulgent ;;v;; first time writing for the other brothers so i hope it’s not too ooc! also i’m still trying to figure out how to do headcanons haha

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

🔵 Leo

you were just chilling at home browsing Pinterest and somehow ended up looking at cute couple aesthetics things

that’s when you came across super cute bracelets

they had those cube shaped beads with letters on them, embroidered into colourful bands

this gave you the idea of making a bracelet for Leo with your name on it

you gathered the materials immediately and started working on it

for the palette you decided to go with varying shades of blue

you also alternated fun shaped beads, little turtles and stars, so the band wouldn't be too plain

on each side of your name you also added a little red crescent moon, for his stripes. this you found particularly clever and mentally gave yourself a pat on the back

Leo would boast so much about it, you’d never hear the end of it

but it’d be worth the torture if it makes him happy

and you’d be happy if he decided to wear it (which he definitely will)

as for how big it had to be you kinda just took a guess, leaving the ends long enough to tie a knot and cut off the rest

after it was done you looked at your finished work with satisfaction, and texted the turtles you were coming over

once you and Leo were alone you did the “choose one: right or left hand?” while hiding both behind your back

no matter what Leo chose, you’d show him an empty hand first just to annoy him

upon seeing your empty palm he looked at you with a quirked up brow and a curious smile

when he chose your other hand you quickly switched the bracelet behind your back, showing him an empty hand again

he scoffed in mock offense and went to tackle you to snatch whatever it was you’re holding

you squeaked and took a couple steps back

“ok ok! I’ll show you. hold out your hand and close your eyes!”

Leo melted inside with those big bright e/c eyes you were looking at him with, your weight slightly shifting from one foot to another due to how excited you were to see his reaction

he kept his cool tho and obliged and stretched out one arm, covering his eyes with the other hand

“if you prank me or something you’re going down y/n” he laughed

“where’s the trust” you sighed dramatically

you see him shift his fingers to take a peek

smacking his arm slightly, he covered up again

“alright alright, i’m just really curious!”

“just a little more patience, Leo. isn’t that like a whole ninja virtue thing? have you been slacking on your training?” you joked while tying the bracelet on his wrist, leaving the knot loose enough to redo it if he wanted

“my ninjosity is perfectly fine, thank you very much” he retorted, clearly growing impatient at not being able to see

“ta-da!” you finally sang and he uncovered his eyes

a huge smirk made its way onto Leo’s face as he admired the handiwork

he was about to make some corny comment but you were quicker

“it’s to show everyone you’re mine” you said pecking the tip of his beak

to hide his sudden blush, Leo trapped you in a bear hug

which you happily returned

when he let go, you helped him tighten the knot so the bracelet wouldn’t be too tight

you cut off the ends and sealed everything with a lighter, being careful not to burn your boyfriend or your own fingers

“i love it, thank you” he said, kissing you hard and ending with a loud “mwah!”

you were 100% partner material and his ego was through the roof right now

as expected, Leo went around the lair gesturing exaggeratedly to bring attention to his hand

it didn’t even matter if anyone commented on the bracelet or not, he’d go “oh this? yeah my s/o made it because I’m that awesome”

would smile to himself every time he looks at it

instant dopamine shot for Leo

he’ll definitely ask Mikey to help him make one for you so you guys can match

🔴 Raph

you were hanging in Raph’s room when you noticed how all of his brothers had some sort of custom thing to them

Mikey had stickers on his plastron

Leo had stripes and markings on his shell

Donnie also had markings plus his tech incorporated into his outfit

Raph didn’t really wear anything besides his mask

all he had was… spikes

how unfair

so you took it upon yourself to make something for him that would give him a bit of swag

you remembered seeing some cute bracelets with names on the internet the other day

perfect idea!

you just needed the materials

you decided to go to Mikey; as the artsy turtle of the four he may have something to work with

to no one’s surprise he pulled out a box from under his bed with string, cords and beads in all imaginable sizes, shapes and colours

everything was delicately sorted into smaller boxes

you thanked him excitedly and when he asked what you were doing, you told him it was a gift for his brother

but it was a secret! so shh

Mikey understood the assignment, saluted you like a soldier and went to distract Raph so he wouldn’t come into his room

you worked fast but diligently

as you were picking out the beads to spell your name, it occured to you that with Raph’s weapon of choice a bracelet might get into the way

since the handles of his sais were quite short you didn’t want them to get stuck in the bracelet

so you decided to switch to a necklace

it would be almost choker-like, as not to slip over his head when doing ninja shenanigans, but also loose enough to allow movement without choking him

aside from your name in the middle, you also decided to add little turtle and heart shaped beads as well

for the strings you went with a bright and a darker shade of red that you braided together several times to make it nice and sturdy

after all your turtle is big and spiky. but so full of love

ugh you got all mushy inside thinking about him wearing the necklace

with a blush adorning your features you finished the last knot, leaving long enough strings to tie them at the end

you started tidying up and set Mikey’s stuff neatly back into the box

poking your head out of his room you looked for Raph

from the projector room you could hear the laughs of Raph, Mikey and Leo

they were probably gaming

Raph was sat on the couch and had his back towards you

so you silently approached him from behind, poking his shell

he jumped slightly since he hadn’t seen or heard you, and was about to stand up to face you but you told him to sit

he obeyed with a questioning look, his brothers also curious as to what you were up to

“stay still” you said as you stretched your hands over his shoulders, placing the necklace in place and tying a loose knot at the back

Mikey went “aww” as he clasped his hands together to the side of his head

Leo muttered a “kinda looks like a collar lol” before adding a “looking good big bro!” with a thumbs up

Raph felt around his neck but he couldn’t see, so he rushed to the bathroom to the mirror, with you happily skipping behind him

when he finally got to see your gift he blushed a deep red, which made you blush as well

“do you like it?” you asked shily, since he wasn’t anything

“like it? i love it!” he exclaimed after regaining his composture

Raph picked you up in a hug and swung you around several times, setting you down with a giggle

as you’re fastening the necklace and sealing the ends with a lighter, he’s already making plans on what to get you

also a necklace with his name? a bracelet? …a ring? that last one made his heart skip a beat

when you were done he lifted you up like you weighed nothing (you really didn’t to him) and set you on his lap to give you a well deserved ‘thank you’ kiss

🟠 Mikey

Mikey and you had wanted to get matching somethings for a while now

you couldn’t decide if you wanted it to be a necklace, with pieces that fit each other like halfs of hearts

or something else that matched in some way

you once saw a 6-way necklace where every piece was a slice of pizza, which if put together, formed the whole pizza

that would have been perfect for you, April and the 4 brothers

but you also wanted something that was just for the two of you

so you were scrolling Pinterest and Tumblr to find ideas

and you found the instructions to making bracelets with those lettered beads

in your brain an idea started forming and you immediately went to work, gathering all the materials

Mikey really wanted in on what you were doing, especially because usually you’d do crafts and artsy thing together

so you kinda had to do this secretly when you were at home instead of with him

which was a bit sad but you just filled your head with thoughts of your favourite orange turtle and blasted some high energy music to work through missing him

you decided to go with a longer strand, so it would wrap twice around the wrist

your name was followed by a heart and then Mikey’s name, since it was long enough to fit both names

you also added flower and turtle shaped beads

you even found a little pizza charm that glowed in the dark

so obviously you had to add that as well

for the colours you chose neon yellow, orange and green

the ends were neatly tucked into some clasps

admiring your finished masterpiece in your hands you smiled to yourself

a yawn made you look at the time only to realise it was like 2 am

whoops

you barely got any sleep tho because you couldn't wait to give it to him

the next day you headed to the lair as soon as your schedule allowed you to

you entered the place like you’d always do, greeting everyone with a cheerful “hello!” and quick hugs

when you got to Mikey he hugged you tightly and swirled you around a couple times calling your name

you looked at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes and a smile that gave you away

“what is it?” he said, thinking you’d spill the tea about something good that happened in class or something like that

instead you rummaged in your bag and fished out your gift, carefully placed in a little bag with a paper bow

“for you” you told him, pecking his cheek

he looked like a little kid who just got a new toy, stars shone in his eyes and were filled with love

he giggled in glee and went to take out whatever was in the little bag, only to find another bag!

he looked kinda puzzled, but you only bit your lip, holding in your laughter at the face he was making

you could tell that for a split second he thought you were actually gifting him just a bag inside another bag

and he would have been totally fine with that because you could give him a wrinkly candy wrapper and he’d still cherish it, simply because it came from you

with a nod from your head you encouraged him to check the second bag as well

“oh mi gosh!” he exclaimed as he took out the bracelet and you swear he exploded into colourful confetti and hearts and rainbows

you took it from his hands and wrapped it around his wrist, clipping it together

he took your hands in his as he admired your handiwork, closely inspecting all the little details

once again you were tackled into a hug and swayed from side to side

“do you like it?” you managed to ask in-between the several kisses he peppered your face with

“i love it!!” he exclaimed and kissed you once more

“can we make more together? you need one as well!” he asked giving you his puppy eyes

you faked thinking it over really hard, bringing you hand to stroke your chin, and his pout only got bigger

of course you said yes so he took your hand and dragged you to his room, chirping happily

🟣 Donnie

it was a normal saturday afternoon

you were chilling at Donnie’s lab

he was rambling about his newest invention to you

you were listening, really, but you were also kind of just checking him out, propping up your head on your elbow

when he talked like that, all excited, it was like he was shining and brightening up the whole room

you loved seeing him like that, absorbing his energy

and as you were taking in and memorising all the details of how he looked, talked and moved, you got an idea

Donnie wasn’t really a jewelry person

but you felt the urge to give him something to wear that was yours

just to mark him as yours

the thought brought a blush to your face which he registered but he continued talking, enjoying the attention

that evening you racked your brain trying to think what you could give him

you knew he had sensitive skin so you’d have to get something with a smooth surface/texture

browsing ideas online, you decided on making him a bracelet for his right wrist (the one without the screen)

you looked up a lot of different designs gathering several ideas and combining them:

the part in contact with the skin would be a flat pleather material

it had a discreet metallic buckle, which would be useful to put on and take off

on top of it sat the bracelet itself, carefully braided and sewn into the band

you chose several hues of purple and lilac for the strings and a dark brown for the pleather

on the top part of the bracelet was your name spelled in circular beads with letters

you also included some little turtle and gaming controller shaped beads you found at the end of your crafts drawer

you decided against a charm in case it got caught on something or if the clinking would annoy him

it was pretty late when you finished your masterpiece

under the light of your small desk lamp you admired your handiwork until you were satisfied, giving yourself a small nod of approval

the next day at the lair you went about your day as normal, but Donnie could tell something was up

you had wanted to wait til later to give it to him when you were alone

but he dragged you off to the lab, leaving his brothers who were engrossed in the jupiter jim movie from the classic sunday movie marathon

you actually also wanted to finish the movie

but since he was so adamant to know what you were hiding, you decided to amuse him and give him the present early

“so what’s up?” he asked, “i know that look of yours. you’re scheming something, aren’t you?”

“ah, i’ve been caught” you said in a sheepish tone and went to get the gift from your bag which was on a chair at his lab table

you had wrapped it up all nice with purple holographic wrapping paper

turning around with a swirl and a dramatic bow, you presented the package to him extending your hands

“for you, from me” you simply said and looked up at him expectantly

this wasn’t the direction he thought this would go, but he was definitely not complaining

he was just scared he forgot an anniversary or an important date

he had a meticulously filled planner tho so that was practically impossible

“what’s the occasion?” he asked as he carefully unwrapped the bracelet

you shrugged “just felt like it”

when he layed eyes on your handiwork he let out a small gasp of surprise

“i know you don’t usually wear this kinda stuff so i understand if-“

“what are you talking about?” he interrupted and didn’t lose a second to put it on his wrist. the right one, as you expected

“maybe it’s time i did start wearing these so you can make me more” he said with a cocky smirk.

“so you like it?”

he took your hands in his and bent down slightly to give your forehead a kiss

“i love it. thanks, sweetheart”

you went back to the projector room hand in hand and sat down at your previous spots, the other turtles seemingly unaware that you were gone in the first place

you went right back to the movie but the soft smile on Donnie’s face surrounded by a faint blush didn’t escape you

[revenant-coining]

1st Person Pronouns

Last Updated: 10/6/22

[s] = singular, [p] = plural if specified

Common:

I/me/my/mine/myself

We/us/our/ours/ourself or ourselves

Non-Themed:

Æ/læ/ly/lyne/læself

A/ae/ay/aine/a(y)self

Am/am/ams/ams/amself

Be/am/is/is/amself

Ci/cm/cy/cine/cyself [s]

Chen/Chen/chenge/chenge/chengei

Dht/dhe/dhi/dhine/dhtself

E/em/ey/eine/e(i)slef

E/le/ei/eine/eiself

Er/er/erde/erde/er

I/ie/iy/iyne/iself

I&/me&/my&/mine&/my&self

J/je/jy/jine/jyself

L/le/ly/lyne/lself

O/oe/oy/oyne/o(y)self

Oi/oi/oi/oi/oizigei

One/one/one/ones/oneself

O/ng/ngo/ngode/ngoself

Ne/nuis/nur/nurs/nurselves or nurself [p]

Nit/vunce/vuns/vuns/vunselves or vunself [p]

Phy/phi/phiy/phyne/phyself

Si/sey/sy/sine/syselves or syself [p] [intended for systems, not exclusive]

T/te/ty/tyne/tself

U(r)/ue/uy/uine/u(r)self

Vi/ve/vy/vene/vyself

Wit/unce/uns/uns/unselves or unself [p]

Wei/muis/muir/muirs/muirselves or muirself

Wu/wo/wen/wen/wogai

X/xe/xy/xine/xyself

Xi/xe/xy/xyne/xyself

Xu/xie/xuer/xier/xun

Y/ye/yi/yine/yself

Zhen/zhen/zhende/zhende/zhen

Themed: themes in brackets, [like this]

An/ant/antl/antlen/antlerself [antler]

​Cer/cerv/cyn/cervine/cerviniself [cervine]

Claw/claw/claws/claws/clawself [claw]

Co/coi/coin/coine/coinself [coin]

Cor/cors/corni/cornis/corniself [cornibus]

Dai/daim/daim/dais/daiself [demon]

Da/dae/daem/daine/daemself [daemon]

De/dec/decay/decays/decayself [decay]

Di/rays/dior/diors/diorself [radiation] [p]

Ea/lea/leafs/leavs/leafself [leaf]

Eye/eye/meye/meyen/meyself [eye]

Fa/fall/fallen/falline/fallenself [fallen]

Fae/fae/faes/faer/faeself [fae]

Fae/faer/faen/faens/faeself [fae]

Fa/fang/fangs/fangs/fangeself [fang]

Fai/fairy/fair/fairs/fairyself [fairy]

Fel/fle/flesh/fleshs/fleshself [flesh]

Go/gor/gore/gores/goreself [gore]

Haz/haz/hazar/hazars/hazardself [hazard]

Hex/hex/hexx/hexx/hexxelf [hex]

Ho/hor/horn/hoine/horself [horn?]

Jinx/jinx/jinxx/jinxx/jinxxelf [jinx]

Kei/kein/keiy/keine/keinself [kenochoric?]

Ki/kit/kitty/kine/kittyself [kitty]

Li/le/lix/light/lightself [light]

Li/min/nal/limin/(limi)nalself [liminal]

Mag/magi/magic/magis/magicself [magic]

Meow/meow/meows/meows/meowself [meow]

Peb/pebb/pebble/pebbles/pebbleself [pebble]

Pie/ma/pies/mags/magpieself [magpie]

Pix/pixie/pixx/pixx/pix(x)self [pixie]

Phy/phi/phiy/phyn/phyself [phylum]

Rai/rain/rai/rains/rainy [rain]

Rat/rat/rats/rats/ratself [rat]

Ray/di/dy/rad/dyself [radiation] [s]

Rei/rod/rodent/rodent/rodentself [rodent]

Riv/river/rivers/rivers/riverself [river]

Sa/san/sang/sangs/sanguiself [sanguine]

Sli/me/smy/slime/smyself [slime]

Sli/slim/slime/sline/slimeself [slime]

Si/sin/sinner/sine/sinself [sin]

Si/spe/spi/spir/spirself [spir]

Spell/spell/spells/spells/spellself [spell]

​Sta/ste/steig/stein/stagself [stag]

Squi/squid/squids/squids/squidself [squid]

Ta/tai/tail/tails/tailself

Twig/twig/twigg/twiggs/twigself [twig]

Un/un/uncan/uncans/uncannyself [uncanny]

x/x/xs/xs/xself [x]

██/██/██s/██s/██self

☣/☣/☣s/☣s/☣self

[trans-luis-serra-navarro]

@leon-on-the-froggy-chair I hope you don’t mind me screenshotting and reblogging this (I’ll delete it asap if you want me to!!!!!!!!) but. Oh my god. Dude. When I catch you. When I get you. I’m gonna sob you put my feelings and emotions into such perfect words my head is in my HANDS

Like,,,,,,,, I have NEVER loved a ship as much as I’ve loved Serennedy. Both Leon but E S P E C I A L L Y Luis mean the WORLD to me and I know it’s corny to say but this stupid lil ship has gotten me through such tough times and has helped me change S O much as a person and in my art and in my view of the world and I just generally feel like I’ve grown a lot as a person and, like you said, become more comfortable with my own identity because of it!!!!!!!!

Like that’s why I made this whole blog!!!!! To ramble about how much Luis, but also Serennedy has changed my life for the better!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’ve been getting so emotional seeing fanart from when the ship was new and everyone was so excited over it nobody touch me I’m gonna cry HCNEHENEHDNXJ

I’m reblogging a bunch of older but super popular Serennedy Art And,,,;,,,,,,, OUGH my god,,,,,,,,,,,, I am feeling,,,,,,,,,;, S O nostalgic,,, meloncholy,,,, sad,,,,,,,,, all the words,,

[sunnybimbo]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @ace-pidge!! :’D you said you were craving shunkeith and you mentioned something about a parenthood au, so i took that and ran. 

i tried to add as much autumn imagery as i could (and you can probably obviously tell that im weak for spouses sharing clothes….)

(you ALSO mentioned that you’d like some hunk-centered and keith-centered fics so OF COURSE i added that as well, because what am i??? a heathen??)

I hope you have the best birthday ever <3 LOVE YOU HOPE YOU ENJOY

Early September

It was morning when Shiro woke to the soft noises of their fussy child, bundled up in soft blankets in her bassinet.

He rubbed at his eyes, stifling a yawn as he rolled over in bed to watch her. She had been adopted not even a few months prior, but Shiro was head over heels in love with her from the very first moment she’d peeked at him behind half-opened eyelids.

Her eyes were a warm brown, bigger than the moon and more expressive than the ocean. And she had the roundest, most perfect nose that scrunched up whenever she was hungry, like it was now. Her cheeks were so unbearably chubby and round that Shiro often found himself pressing against them when he hugged or burped her.

She made a fussy noise again, and he quickly rolled out of bed before the other two occupants could wake.

Keith took up his vacated spot almost instantly, seeking the warmth Shiro left behind. He was cuddled up snug against Hunk’s backside, legs tangled with the latter’s, but they both stayed deep asleep.

From the looks of the light filtering through the drapes on their windows, it was maybe nine in the morning? She was probably very hungry, then.

He leaned down to coo at her softly, pressed his fingers against her chin to calm her. “I’m here, baby girl.”

She kicked her legs, and he lifted her up to his shoulder. She nuzzled against the warm curve of his neck, burying her face there, and the soft tuft of hair at the top of her head tickled at his ear.

Along the way out the door, he stole Hunk’s hoodie to put on while he waited for a bottle to warm up.

Shiro yawned again, halfway down the hall. The walls were lined with medals and silly family photos they’d taken over years. He paused in front of a particular photo, right next to the archway that led to the kitchen. It was a picture from their college graduation, where Keith had gotten a bit too buzzed and kissed both Hunk and Shiro across the lips before he passed out in the back of Hunk’s truck.

That had been before they’d ‘officially’ gotten together, but Shiro was glad Keith had done it when he did, or else the three of them would have never gotten the courage.

The photo itself was of them, hooking their arms across each other’s necks. Shiro had been taken by surprise, when Lance had pointed a camera at them and screamed, “Say cheese!”

His plate of chocolate cake had nearly fallen as Hunk hooked him into the side-hug, and that could clearly be seen in the photograph. Keith, on the other side of Hunk, was hiding a half-smile against Hunk’s forearm, obviously pleased at the touch. A flush from the alcohol already stained his cheeks, and Shiro could almost see the way his eyes sparkled that night.

Hunk was beaming bright, his graduation cap hanging around his neck. He didn’t even hesitate to drag the other two into a hug, and Shiro remembered it feeling incredibly warm.

Hunk always did give the best hugs.

The tile was cold against his bare feet when he finally entered the kitchen, and he shivered so hard that his daughter was jarred out of her half-asleep lull. She voice her dissatisfaction loud in his ear with a half-garbled yell, and he quickly patted her on the back with a soft ‘hush’.

She was still wrapped in her blankets, so he untangled her and laid them on the counter in order to fight against the cold when he set her down upon it. She was old enough to sit up on her own, which is what she did as he grabbed the ingredients he needed. He kept a close eye on her, so that she wouldn’t tumble off the edge, but she didn’t seem interested in doing so in the slightest. Instead, she was more focused on sticking her fingers between her toes and nodding off.

The bottle was quickly prepared, microwaved, and tested on the inside of Shiro’s wrist. That last part was hard to do, since he’d left his prosthesis off before he’d left the bedroom, but he’d had enough practice with bottle-feeding one handed that it wasn’t as much of a hassle as it could have been. When the temperature came out perfectly, he carried her and the bottle over to the living room and plopped on the couch. Only when she was comfortably nestled in her blankets again, and he’d securely hooked her against his thigh and the end of the couch so that her head was still elevated, did he press the nipple against her mouth and let her eat.

She fussed a bit more, just because she could, before she took the offered food into her mouth and suckled greedily. Shiro wiped at his tired eyes with his shoulder and looked out at their backyard.

Thick blankets of fallen autumn leaves lined every inch of their fenced yard. A plethora of beautiful colors were illuminated by the sun’s rays, sparkling with the morning dew that had yet to evaporate.

He could see a squirrel running across the patio, with a twig in its mouth. For some reason, that image made him laugh, especially when the squirrel dove into the sea of crunchy leaves and disappeared up the large tree.

Down the hall, he could hear two sets of footsteps padding across the carpet. “What’s so funny?” Keith asked as he passed the couch, smiling down at the image Shiro painted while cradling their child close.

“Just enjoying the morning.” He said, handing off the empty bottle to Keith’s waiting palm. Hunk ambled into the kitchen behind him, drowning in the blankets from the bed. He always took the longest to wake up in the mornings, even if he loved them more than Shiro and Keith combined.

Keith leaned down to peck Shiro across the lips, letting his free hand drift down to rub his thumb across their baby’s cheek, wiping away a bit of drool before he wandered into the kitchen. Already, she was on her way to falling asleep again. Even more so, now that the rest of her family had arrived.

Keith, like Shiro, was wearing something of Hunk’s. The sweater dwarfed him in size, and hung low until it was tickling at his knees. He looked damn cozy, though, especially when he let the sleeves cover his hands as he took an offered mug from Hunk and lifted it to his nose to breathe in the comforting scent of the coffee.

While Hunk waited for his own cup to finish brewing, he waddled over to Keith and smothered him in a hug. The blanket covered both of them from head to toe, and Shiro could hear the way Keith laughed even underneath it, face pressed against Hunk’s chest. Shiro hoped Keith didn’t drop his cup, with the two of them tangled like that.

Careful not to jostle the sleeping babe, he turned halfway on the couch to watch the two of them. Just the very top of Keith’s head could be seen, where it was nestled under Hunk’s chin as they mumbled soft words to one another. One of Keith’s hands had snaked out to curl around what Shiro assumed was Hunk’s waist, and the two of them slowly rocked together, in the world’s softest, sleepiest waltz.

When they broke apart at the coffee machine’s bell, Hunk and Shiro caught eyes. The former smiled, glancing away only to pour himself a cup without burning his fingers. “You look like you’re in love.”

Keith hopped over the couch (Literally. He literally jumped over the back of the couch and landed on the other side perfectly unharmed.) without spilling a single drop of coffee, placing the warm, decorated mug on their round table. It had little leaves engraved at the lip that Hunk always cursed about when they had to clean dried coffee from the tiny nooks.

Hunk followed shortly after, choosing not to jump over the couch, but to walk around it like a sensible person. Along the way, he kissed Shiro on the forehead before he stole the middle spot between him and Keith.

He tugged the blanket over his legs, spreading it out so it covered both of his husbands’ as well. Then, he sunk into the plush leather of the couch and let his coffee warm him up from the inside out.

“I am.” Shiro murmured, glancing down at the baby girl in his arms. She had smushed her face against his chest and was drooling on it heavily. A wet spot formed just above his heart, and he knew it would dry cold and probably freeze his nipple off.

“Hm?” Came the distracted inquiry as Keith dug around the couch cushions for the remote. He found it buried underneath Hunk’s thigh, and he pinched it as punishment for Hunk hiding it. Hunk retaliated by touching his cold toes against Keith’s calf, causing the latter to squeal as a shiver coursed up his spine.

Shiro grinned, stealing a sip from Hunk’s coffee cup while they were distracted. “Don’t worry about it.”

In the next hour, they calmed down enough to cuddle close and watch a movie. Keith stole their daughter to hold for himself, taking up the left side of the couch. He laid atop Hunk, buried completely under the covers that the three of them were too lazy to tote back to the bedroom and exchange for something less bulky. Shiro took up the right side, and the bottom of their sleep-pile. His legs would probably be asleep by the time they decided to get up, but he wouldn’t complain.

Keith and Hunk dozed off like that, in one tangled mess of a family. And Shiro watched over them, half-listening to whatever movie Keith had turned on. His sweater, switched out from the drooled-on hoodie he’d stolen, was so comfortable it felt like one of the warmest hugs he’d ever gotten, and Shiro fell asleep to that; the feeling of his chest being so warm, and his heart so full of happiness that it was near bursting.

He’d never been so in love in his life.

Mid October

Hunk kicked his feet through the neat pile of leaves Keith had raked in the corner of their yard, spraying the warm colors all across the wet ground. He heard Keith sigh heavily, and a mischievous grin grew on his face as he turned to regard the other.

“You’re cleaning that.”

Keith leaned against his rake, which was missing two rungs and rusted on the handle. He was bundled up as if it were the middle of a snow storm, with a thick winter jacket on that swaddled his middle, a knitted hat Shiro had made for him, and two pairs of gloves. The only thing missing was his scarf, which had gotten wet when he’d gone outside and slipped on their porch, sailing headfirst into a pile of heavy, freshly fallen leaves.

“Of course.” Hunk agreed. He probably wouldn’t clean it today, but… Keith didn’t need to know that. Instead, he began hopping up and down in the leaves and splattering Keith’s boots in the cold mist. It always was wet where they lived, no matter how much it hadn’t rained.

On the porch sat Shiro and their daughter. He was watching them, half-asleep, as he rocked her to sleep. It was mid-morning, but Shiro had been up late the night prior helping Keith finish an assignment for the business class he’d decided to take (only to promptly hate. Shiro convinced him to keep going at it though, and it was too late to drop the class, anyway.)

Keith dropped the rake and stretched his arms above his head. “You sure are rambunctious.”

“It was the yoga.” Hunk said, striking a pose on one leg for his husband. “Keeps me invigorated.”

“Do they sell that in a can, or...?” Keith cracked a smile, gathering some leaves that had fallen into the hood of his jacket and throwing them at Hunk.

Hunk dodged, nearly slipping and falling back into the destroyed leaf-pile. Keith pushed him down, and Hunk shrieked as the cold from the ground seeped into his hoodie. “Keith!”

Shiro startled at the sudden noise, and they could hear their daughter fussing at them, as if demanding for them to stop so she could get the cuddles she wanted, undisturbed.

Keith threw another leaf at Hunk, and it smacked him in the face.

“Whoops.” He said, completely unapologetic, as he helped Hunk to stand.

Hunk quickly stole him for a hug, transferring some of the cold to the bundled up roll that Keith was, and he lifted him up to spin him around. Keith didn’t struggle, used to the treatment after years of them dating. Instead, when Hunk dropped him and the dizziness had left his eyes, he plucked the leaf from Hunk’s face and pressed a kiss against the tip of his cold nose.  

They wandered back towards the porch, and Hunk definitely did not sneak the leaf down the back of Keith’s shirt along the way.

He kissed Shiro on the forehead when they arrived, and Shiro responded with a pleased hum. His eyes didn’t open in the slightest, and he looked like a pampered cat the way he was lazing in the sun. All that was missing was a tail swaying at his back.

“Sleepy?” Keith asked, tugging his gloves off with his teeth. First came the yarn-woven ones, which were covered in dirt. Hunk grimaced. Then, came the leather ones, which only covered up to his knuckles.

Shiro hummed again, an affirmative, before he cracked open his eyes. “Hungry, too.”

Keith stole the dozing baby from Shiro’s arms, murmuring soft nothings at her as she wiggled in her blanket and onesie.

“We should go eat, then. Want to go out?” Hunk hooked his hand in Shiro’s and ran his thumbs across his cold knuckles. He brought each hand up to his lips and blew a warm puff of air over them, heating them quickly.

Shiro shook his head. “We should stay in and cuddle.” He suggested instead. “And nap.”

“We always do that.” Hunk said, smiling. The fall always made them extremely lethargic. As did the mornings and the nights, and the time just after lunch. As well as the cold, and the extreme heat. Hunk was beginning to think they just liked cuddling each other too much to admit they had a problem.

Keith was already standing in the doorway when Hunk looked up, watching them with a strange smile on his lips and a quirk of his brow.

Hunk helped Shiro stand, and kept holding his hands as he led the latter towards the couch. He waddled the entire way, eyes closed. He probably wasn’t as tired as he was pretending to be, but Hunk would spoil him anyway.

He pressed a kiss against Shiro’s cheek as he sat him on the couch. Keith took up his right side, leaning his head against Shiro’s shoulder as he kicked his fuzzy socks off. They’d left their boots at the door, of course— because who wanted to clean up muddy water from their carpet? Not them.

Hunk, stealing their darling daughter along the way, took Keith’s jacket as he went to the kitchen, tossing it on the nearby coat rack that stood just outside the archway. His dwarfed Keith’s in size when he set it on the next rung, and the sight had an endearing heat pooling in his belly.

Tiny fists curled around his chin, and he pecked a kiss against her soft face as he began to heat up milk for the three of them. He would be making hot cocoa to warm them up before they settled down for a nice, relaxing Sunday.

She had already had a warm bottle of milk about an hour before they’d gone outside, but Hunk prepared another anyway. She always did like to eat, just like her dads did. (Shiro and Hunk could eat half a buffet if they actually tried, honestly. And Keith, if antagonized enough, could eat the rest on his own.)

He stirred the milk in the pot, clicking his tongue to the beat of a song he couldn’t remember the lyrics to anymore. A bit splashed out and soaked into his sweater, and he quickly dabbed it out with a nearby towel. He was wearing one of Shiro’s old college sweaters; the letters had faded years ago, long before they’d even thought of adopting their baby girl. The logo wasn’t the right colors anymore, and there was a small, mended tear just under the armpit that scratched at Hunk’s skin when he lifted his arm.

She cooed when he moved, rocking from one heel to another. Out of all of them, she loved it when Hunk bounced her the most. Hunk liked to think it was because he was just the best at hugging.

The baby bottle was warm against his palm, but just right for her sensitive tongue. He carefully tilted her head the way he’d practiced for months with a stuffed doll and let her eat as much as she wanted.

Her hands wrapped around the plastic just below the nipple, kneading it as she languidly filled her belly.

A fond sigh escaped him, and he had to resist smooching her across the face. He didn’t want to mess up her process.

She only ate about half the bottle, but that was fine. They had plenty to spoil her with later, whenever she wanted.

The hot cocoa was assembled mostly by muscle memory. Shiro liked a lot of whipped cream, piled so high that it coated his nose when he took a sip. Keith liked the giant, puffy marshmallows that were soft when he bit into them, instead of the dehydrated ones that came with the cocoa mix. Hunk also sprinkled a bit of cinnamon over both of their drinks, just enough to add to the aroma.

The sink squealed when he turned it on to wash his hands, and he made a quick mental note to check that out whenever he had the time next. Probably tomorrow, after he raked the leaves.

He hooked two mugs on either of his forefingers, and carried the other in the crook of his elbow. With his empty elbow, he supported their child’s back and let her rest her weight entirely on his shoulder. It was a common pose for him to adopt, even if she’d only been in the family for half a second.

Ever so carefully, one step at a time, he walked back into the living room.

As expected, Shiro was knocked out when he rounded the couch. His legs were curled on Keith’s laps, and Keith reached up to grab the babe from Hunk’s hold. She easily took up the space between them and Keith’s stomach, her head curling against Keith’s chest.

Hunk set Keith’s drink on a coaster in front of him and pecked him on the lips.

“Thanks.” Keith said, softly. His free hand laid against Shiro’s thigh, gently patting it as he rubbed circles against their baby’s back.

“Of course.” Hunk said, almost offended. He took a sip of his own drink and let the chocolate coat his tongue, taking a whiff of the faint cinnamon scent. Yummy.

He sat down on the recliner they rarely used, near Shiro’s head on the other side of the couch. The pillow they’d stuffed in the corner of it was stiff as a board on Hunk’s hip, but he was too busy watching Shiro sleep to care to move it just yet.

Keith shifted, kicking his legs up on the table as he let his head lean back against the couch. He let out a soft, content sigh, and Hunk couldn’t help but silently agree.

Hunk could remember a time when none of them had ever been this close, always sidestepping and leaving a wide gap between one another as they walked, or never even acknowledging one another’s presence as they passed each other on the street.

Then, they got to know each other, for no reason at all. And then they’d fallen in love, and now—

Their daughter gurgled in her sleep, and Keith ran his fingers through the downy, barely-there tuft of hair on her head. She leaned into the touch and relaxed even further, legs kicking once before she settled again.

Now they were a family that shared everything and preferred to cuddle together on a too small couch than to go out.

How quickly things had changed. Hunk was more than happy to say it was for the better.

Late November

Keith sat at his desk, a dark stained wood that was sturdy enough to survive years of use and coffee spills, staring out of the window instead of studying the material he needed to know for his exam the next day. It would be the most important of the semester, excluding his final, and he couldn’t for the life of him remember why he wanted a damn business degree in the first place.

The blinds were pulled up high so that the starlight coated his fingers, from where the light could fit between the branches of the tree outside their window. He turned his palm to face it up, clenching his fist as if he could hold the stars themselves.

It would be fine if he took a break, right?

He pushed his chair out, and the wheels immediately got tangled in the shag rug he forgot to push away. He liked to stick his toes in the plush yarn fibers while he was solving problems— sue him.

With a soft grunt, he fell to his knees and upended the chair, digging the yarn out one piece at a time. A few ripped out, as they always did when he inevitably ran over the thing, and he hid the bald spots by fluffing the rest of it. When he finished, he threw it under the window and out of the way, dusting off his knees as he stood.

He wandered through the house, shoving his hands in the large pocket at the front of his hoodie. For once, he was wearing one of his own, instead of one of his husbands’. He usually liked wearing his own clothes, but tonight it just made him feel lonely.

The wood creaked as he walked down the hall, careful of the baby toys they hadn’t picked up during the day. He knew one of them would step on the noisy toy in the morning, and it would dig into their toes and piss them off— but that was a problem for the future.

He cracked open the door to his bedroom. Vaguely, in the dark, he could make out the lumpy shapes of his spouses, snoring away on either side of the bed. Hunk’s foot hung off the side, and he was spread so strangely that Keith winced. He was amazed that he didn’t have back problems, with the wild way he slept.

Keith padded in more, leaving the door ajar behind him. Shiro’s breathing shifted as he got closer, and he mumbled something against Hunk’s chest, burying his face against it even further.

Keith pressed a kiss against the crown of his head, smoothing back his hair fringe with a gentle shush.

He checked the windows to make sure they were locked, just out of habit. They were, of course, because nobody but him opened the windows in their house.

On the other side of the bed, at the other window, Keith paused again to look at the stars. They twinkled so loud in the sky he could almost hear their song, and he let his eyes drift shut.

The house settled around him, creaking ever so slightly. He could faintly hear the bass of a neighbor’s party raging down the block, and he hoped someone wouldn’t call the cops. They always blared their horns too loudly, especially when everyone was supposedly asleep.

Behind him, he could hear his daughter shifting around her crib. They’d switched out her bassinet for the thing about a month prior, because she was growing so fast and needed the extra space.

He peered over the baby cage, leaning against the bars as he watched her get comfortable. She wasn’t awake, as far as he could tell, and was having a pleasant dream by the way she’d occasionally twitch and squeeze her hands into tiny little fists.

Keith could never get over how small she was. His hand dwarfed her when he cradled her head as he fed her a bottle, or when he was giving her a bath and trying to get between each of her toes.

She was a soft, squishy little thing. When she’d first been born, her skin had stayed a splotchy-red color for so long that he thought she’d had spots.

His fingers strayed against her cheeks, where he remembered them being, and she made a soft, babbling sound at the touch. Her pupils danced behind her eyelids, and Keith didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that he was grinning like an idiot.

His feet were getting cold, though, from the draft circling around the room. He should have closed to door.

She didn’t make any other noises, so he tucked the blanket back over her and stood on the tips of his toes to reach in the crib and gently kiss her forehead. When he pulled away, he set a soft, yellow duck next to her hand, so that she could grab it whenever she wanted. It had been a spur of the moment purchase, and he’d only thought to buy it for her because of Pidge. Pidge absolutely adored the baby, as much as children made her nervous, and she probably would have stolen his wallet from his pocket and bought it herself if he hadn’t done it.

Keith left her alone to sleep. He didn’t want her to wake and start crying.

The air was getting colder the longer he left the door open, but the space heater would probably automatically kick on, sooner or later.

Keith allowed himself to dawdle in the cozy atmosphere. It soaked over him, and embedded itself deep in his heart as he sat on the very edge of the bed and rested against the tangled lump of Shiro and Hunk.

Shiro sleepily patted around the blankets until he found Keith’s arm, and his fingers wrapped around Keith’s palm with a firm squeeze, as if he were reassuring himself that the latter was actually there.

He mumbled something, almost exactly the same way his daughter had.

Hunk hardly shifted at Keith’s presence, but he was extremely warm and soft to cuddle against. And Keith did exactly that, until Hunk’s breath tickled the cowlicks at the top of his head as he snored loud in his ear. It rumbled his chest, which bodily lifted Keith with each deep inhale, and Keith let out a soft laugh.

His legs were starting to get as cold as his feet were, covered only in a pair of boxers. They had little bananas on them, a gift from both Hunk and Shiro as a ‘4 month anniversary present’. He hadn’t even known that was a thing before he’d gotten married, but the boxers were comfortable so he wouldn’t fight the little celebrations they liked to have.

He probably wouldn’t be getting any other studying done tonight. He was much too happy to let interest rates and net profits keep him from his family.

Keith climbed over them, careful not to jab them in the stomach with his knees, and squeezed in the empty space they’d left for him on the opposite side of the bed. Hunk was firmly nestled in the middle, and Shiro had turned onto his side at Keith’s absence, hair flipping over and laying across Hunk’s face.

Keith reached up to tuck Shiro’s hair out of the way so he could breathe, and he wrapped his arms around them as completely as he could. They weren’t long enough, of course, but he was happy to just touch the both of them at the same time.

Their breathing had synced in the night, and it was easy to find the rhythm once Keith relaxed enough, sinking into the too-soft mattress they had insisted upon at the store.

He had just begun to drift off when Shiro shifted and sat up in the bed to tuck the blankets around Keith’s shoulders, eyes half-lidded and heavy with sleep. He pressed a sleepy, wet kiss against Keith’s temple, and turned to make sure Hunk was adequately covered, too, before he plopped back down on his edge of the mattress and promptly fell back asleep.

Keith snorted, legs tangling with both of theirs. He hid his red face against the curve of Hunk’s arm, and reached over to squeeze his palm against Shiro’s hip as he settled in again.

He was already getting too warm, and he knew he would wake up tomorrow drowned in sweat. But the moonbeams were soft against his neck where he was, buried under the covers, and Hunk had found his hand and was tracing soft patterns with the pad of his thumb against the back of Keith’s palm, and Shiro was starting to snore again. It was all so endearing and so comfortable that Keith couldn’t find it in himself to ruin the atmosphere.

Tomorrow could happen tomorrow.

[plushienanami]

hii! imagine y/n just hanging out with the bucci gang and vibing with youtube music playlist and then later on sexy music just played like 'Careless Whisper' then y/n is just holding her laugh by biting her lip how would the bucci gang act or react?

omg i love this request, it’s so funny if you actually think about it! i misread at first abt the biting lip part. i thought you meant like the funny biting lip emoji 😳

(i lowkey kinda wanna write for Abbachio or Narancia tbh)

Buccigang with a Light-Hearted S/O ☆

While the group hangs out s/o a sensual song comes on resulting in s/o holding her laugh.

At first I believed that they would all be taken back by it. Abbachio and Bucciarati would honestly be the people in the group who would react the least. I mean they would both be like freaking out but at the same time inside their both like s h o o k e t h.

I know for sure that Bucciarati would at least widen his eyes in realization on what is actually going on. Including Giorno as well.

Fugo would ‘tsk’ underneath his breath, but would always have his eyes trained on darling. Him and Abbachio are the ones who act like they are unaffected by it yet they have their eyes on s/o constantly.

Mista would be the one who would react the most. Probably the closest to s/o because he is just so energetic around them and literally cannot stay away from them. Initially when it comes on (for example: Careless Whisper), he would make some sexual corny joke/advance. Especially when s/o bites their lip, he eats that up. Mista would just probably get closer and say something sexual, but it comes off as corny. In actuality he really did mean it. (bless his heart)

About the lip biting thing, Fugo also eats that up. Like literally. Bucciarati doesn’t look much into it as much as Abbachio does. Abbachio doesn’t really understand the humor, only seeing it as a song in mind to hook up with s/o.

Narancia would be similar to Mista, but I see him less sexually driven and more of a laughter kinda of thing. He laughs along until he sees s/o trying to not smile, yet you can hear the little giggles from them which causes him to go haywire inside.

Mista and Narancia would just stare at s/o with such a shocked look. In shock, I mean like literally trying to process their hearts palpitations and trying not to die right there from how adorable s/o is being.

Sitting right next to you would be Giorno, much to Abbachio’s dismay. Giorno tries to always be closest to you no matter what. He just needs to always kinda be by you. You give him comfort and security especially after everything he’s been with. Seeing s/o be so carefree and happy makes him happy. He lets out a small smile as he observes s/o about to laugh.

Trish is kinda like 🧍‍♀️

Or she is just close as well, but chooses not to engage because of Mista’s comments or how Giorno just obsessively stares at you like right next to you. As Abbachio’s death stare just literally intimidates anyone so she just chooses to not too. She laughs though because you never fail to make her feel good about herself. It’s like she forgot everything she has dealt with just by seeing you be so gleeful. 

Overall everyone just stares and absorbs s/o’s laughter and small smiling. Yet in the group, blind to the human eye is some sexual wanting towards s/o. The music ain’t making it better as well.

[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.”

[strywoven]

Own question has an obvious answer : too long , it has been too long since they have had the proper chance to simply be with one another as lovers.  True is it that they live together , that they see each other e v e r y d a y ( both , the first thing they see in the morning & the last thing they kiss good-night ) , time is always made amid the chaos of everything to put their love at the very forefront of their lives ( rather , the foundation upon which their routine is built , upon which everything revolves ) .  But it is r a r e they have time together like this , away from everything and everyone else , surrounded by nothing but the love that Kaen is certain has been there since they first took breath.

His reply causes their ears to flop off to the sides , their tone turning wry , ❝ Y’re right , we’re both busy all’a th’ time.  Y’know , ‘s reaaaaal lame tha’ life’s tryna’ keep us apart.  ‘S like it cannae ‘andle ‘ow strong n’ pure our love ‘s. ❞  That was a bit corny , wasn’t it ?  But they can’t help it , the godling makes for such a hopeless sap when it comes to Iarla ( he is their everything ; the flowers that grew in their heart , that bloomed in their once-desecrated garden & filled them with the toils of joy ) .  Their head tips forward , gently knocking forehead to forehead with his , nuzzling him gently , staining his skin with harmless flecks of sparking cinder.  ❝ We were overdue fer this.  But uh … Wh- wha’ d’ye feel like doin’ out ‘ere ? ❞  Admittedly , Kaen feels a little nervous without the humdrum of being a busy-body.  ❝ Jus’ chillin’ ? ❞

it's almost instinctive the way his hands come up to curl around their hips as soon as they're close to him. couldn't stop it if he tried, not that he would. sometimes iarla thinks that he was born loving kaen. that the minute he entered the world his heart was beat blooming for them and it just took him a while to find them. halfling smiles into the kiss that tastes the same way his magic tastes to him and muzzles them once when they pull away.

he lets himself be led, pulled down and curled around, a tangle tie of their legs as they sit close and cling, unwilling to let go for even a moment.

"ah'm glad. ah've missed yer. ah know we see each other all o' the time but there's always somethin' happenin'. uni or our jobs or someone callin' to see us. ah figured if we got away, just me an' yer for a bit it'd be nice."

[dreme-inc]

Can I please have a preference for Stan, Kyle, Wendy, Bebe and Kenny with a tomboy fem S/O with short hair and wears vintage suits, newsboy hats, vintage casual clothes and sometimes steals the characters clothes but she still wears lipgloss,lipbalm and lipstick? Please tell me if

a/n: It's slightly broadened, but I put little tidbits on some specifics ^^ The vintage style is cool, no explicit gender necessarily, and please forgive. It's tougher finding inspiration... please, enjoy though!

V I N T A G E A N D T I M E L E S S ⟻

They're each very encouraging, to start. The vintage fashion is intriguing to them and they'd love to run their hands through your hair if you'd let them <3

⟼ S T A N L E Y

The raven's someone who doesn't broaden what they personally wear too much because he believes others can pull off styles he couldn't, I think. Since being with you however, you're a good inspiration, and he tries to be more daring with his own style and occasionally wears your hats.

I dunno if getting self-conscious about it is something, but there's a knight in shining armor.

Often says to others, "Don't be angry because they dress better than you."

Often says to you something like, "I really like your coat today. It's like you're an agent or something. It's cool."

+ If you're more athletic, then he's either cheering for you or wants to play depending on the event. It's noted you're an especially good team together and people like playing with you guys since you're both good sports about everything.

+ If you're more homey, he's definitely cool with it, too. He could be the boyfriend and best friend sort if it suits you, whether you were friends prior or not. Can truly appreciate a day indoors and often offers to play video games.

⟼ K Y L E

It resonates with the redhead one of the best compared to the others, I think. He's often said he's not born what he seems to be, and if it's a common reason behind why you wear what you do, then birds of a feather. The both of you get close quite quickly because of it.

If not, it's still cool. He's been in South Park so long, and despite the four's adventures, he hadn't ever met someone in a sense like yours.

He'd likely tease, only a little. It was like finding a time capsule in this old town. Tries noticing when you wear new pieces and be the first complimenting it, and usually is.

+ If you're athletic, it suits him. Dates could consist of sports games if you were interested. Quick to defend you and what you can do to anyone doubting your abilities, with a dusty blush as he can admit to knowing firsthand as one of your most supportive cheerleaders. He's so proud of you.

+ If you're more homey, then you're aware this boy hopes you like books. No matter what though, he honestly cherishes any time with you because he's finally found someone to sit with, and he won't ever take it lightly.

⟼ W E N D Y

It is super neat to her. Probably instigates the clothes stealing herself on you, and wears it as great as you do.

The most willing to wear the fashion publicly. If you're cool with it, sometimes you'd wear an entire outfit of hers and she'd wear one of yours meanwhile. It's adorable.

Number one cheerleader in supporting the person you are, no matter the personality, as you do the same for her.

+ If you're adventurous, the raven meshes really well with said personality. She's holding your hand as you maybe jump into lakes, maybe sneak around, or anything else you'd like. She believes she is very lucky with someone like you.

+ If you're a prankster, you two pretend to be one another and you'll both hide your hair in your hats so no matter the hair color :) It's especially hilarious if you guys don't have the same complexion. Everyone loves it.

+ Ah, and she especially likes any short hair. It contrasts with her longer hairstyle, and you'll brush one another if it suits you.

⟼ B A R B A R A

Shopping! Goes shopping with you and buys perfect pieces. And times, she'll go alone finding you gifts. She thinks it's cool picturing vintage, and it makes her happy making you smile.

If you're into it, she'd want fashion tips :) "Should I wear the jacket or the cardigan with my outfit?"

The blonde'll wear your clothes if it'd make you happy, for sure, but only if you said so. Otherwise she'd be encouraged when she sees you to be more bold, like Stan, but with her own closet.

Open to dressing up with you around the house, and a common occurrence is having fun, laughing and kissing in its midst.

+ She's a huge fan of the lipsticks, glosses, and balms. I am unsure if it's something people do, but she'll share with you if you'd like. Wears what you prefer and tells you her favorites of yours, willing to play the guess the gloss flavor if it's interesting to you, too.

⟼ K E N N E T H

Likely brags to everyone, haha.

"Have you met them? Yeah, they're the one with the cool fashion sense."

Currently saving money to buy you a nice clothing piece or accessory: something long-lasting and pairs well with a bunch of your outfits.

Sways between corny and smooth, absolutely nothing else.

Sometimes he'll go, "there's my aviator."

On others, "hello, adventurer. Anything exciting today?"

Once, he surprised you, wearing a matching outfit. And you guys went walking somewhere like downtown or a party -whichever suits your fancy- and were the talk of the small town for a while. It was a real hit with everyone.

+ Definitely a little thirst from the lip accessories. The blond loves stuff on your lips, especially his lips??? I think he's got the knowledge on putting it on you and is tempted to kiss you every time.