#i did sexualize the fish god yes how can you tell

[mcsiggy]

Read the Tapas version > HERE< Evoe comic tag >HERE< Support me on PATREON and see comics before it is posted anywhere else!

It's a Christmas Miracle! :)

As always, thank yall so so SO much for reading my work and supporting me ;_; <3 it means a whole lot to me! Happy holidays! be good!

Under the Read More is about my gofundme.

Hi everyone /3\ I wanna say right now my holidays have been kinda bad this year because of problems irl where I had to resort to a gofundme, if anyone's interested in helping out, here's the link; gofund.me/71ef2c1b

[artists-ally]

I love your Harvey fics😍 and I have a this fluff thatmayleadto spice/smut scenario in which Harvey comes back home from home finding the reader reading a particularly spicy scene of a romance novel and in the beginning Harvey makes a little fun of her but then he sees the appeal and...you know😂

{That Kind of Love} Reader x Harvey Specter

Can I just say @kjbg-fantasymoon is so sweet??? Like ugh you are so nice ilysm. Told you I’d answer all your requests 😘😘 Anyway here is my two cents on the matter, enjoy!!! Title from this song (p.s. both books I mention in here, Flawless and Dirty Letters, are both real books and I high recommend both of them!)

Word Count: 1,481

Warnings: smut, minor d/s vibes, spanking

Summary: Harvey catches you reading a particular smutty scene from your current book.

~~~~~~

“Don’t you think it’s a bad idea?”

“Is what a bad idea?”

“You know,” I said, motioning between us. “This. Us, alone together? We can’t keep our hands off each other.”

Griffin laughed, grabbing me by my waist and pulling me tight against his chest. “It absolutely is an awful idea. But you look so fucking good in that skirt. I mean Jesus Luca, it barely covers your ass. And you know how much I hate it when anyone looks at anything that’s mine.”

I clenched my thighs together when he pushed the skirt up my ass, not being shy with the noise that burned my core. 

“Griffin,” I rested my forehead against his collar bone, gripping his shirt as he pushed my underwear down my thighs.

“Yes?”

“Please,” I begged. I needed to feel him. God, twelve years of sexual frustration was not helping me in any way. Every fantasy I had as a teenager was coming to life. 

“Is my girl needy?” I whined. “Aww, do you need me to take care of you? To force you on your hands and knees and fuck you like you’ve always wanted me to? How about I tie you up and make you cum on my fingers, then my mouth, then my co-”

“YN!” 

I flailed so hard the book clattered to the ground, and I could feel my pulse in my fingers. “Jesus fucking Christ Harvey don’t you know how to knock?”

“I did knock,” he countered, reaching down to pick up my forgotten story. “Twice. And I opened the door and called your name. And I’ve been standing in front of you for two minutes, watching you read. Watching you bite your lip in that way you only do when you’re completely lost. So, wanna tell me what you were reading?”

I blinked, mouth gaping open like a fish out of water. He turned the book over in his hand, reading the cover. Harvey raised an eyebrow at me and offered the book back. With a blush to my cheeks, I plucked it from his hand and folded it into my lap. 

“What’s the book about?” He asked again. 

“Nothing you’d like, Mr. Harvard,” I stuck out my tongue, placing the book on the table beside me before walking into the living room. “How was your day?”

“Nothing, huh?” Wow, Harvey could not take a hint. “Come on, just tell me. Was it about vikings? Pirates? Viking pirates? What about some small town romance, where the city girl moves back home and the farm boy reigns her back to her roots? Just like his pops did with his mamma?”

“Please, I am far above that cliche bullshit.” I am most certainly not above it. At all. “And why do you care?”

“Because, you were so entangled with it you didn’t even hear me come in. whatever is in that book, maybe I want to find out what it is so you’ll pay attention to me that intensely,” Harvey cornered me in the kitchen, caging me in against the counter after I got a glass of water. 

“I pay attention to you,” I argued, looking from his eyes to his lips when he licked him, very clearly looking at mine.

“Uh huh, sure you do. When it involves my wallet and my lips in between your legs,” Harvey teased, bringing me in against his chest. In an oddly similar way that the main character of my book did. “Just tell me, I’ll stop asking if you tell me.” “No you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” Harvey smiled, and I rolled my eyes. “It can’t be that bad, Yn. I’ve caught you reading smut more than once, so what was it this time?”

“How do you know I read smut?” My eyes went wide, and my heart sped up a little in my chest. 

“I didn’t at first,” Harvey said. “But then I told Donna about one of the books you were reading, Flawless by Elsie Silver, and she told me how ‘spicy’ it was. And you are pretty bad at being subtle, my love. You don’t do a great job at hiding your emotions on your face.”

Welp. Fuck. 

My eyes narrowed at the New York lawyer and he just gave me a cheesy smile. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But you’re gonna have to read it. Because you’ll understand why when you do.”

As I walked back into the den, Harvey in tow, I plopped the book in his hand. Dirty Letters follows Luca and Griffin, childhood penpals turned strangers, through their reconnection. He’s keeping a huge secret and she’s a recovering victim of PTSD. 

“Well, with a title like that I expect it to be dirty,” Harvey rolled his eyes, reading the back of the cover. “Show me the good stuff.”

I flipped to the page I was reading, scanning to make sure I was in the right spot. I didn’t have to bookmark the page because someone decided to scare me half to death. He should know by now to just leave me alone when I’m reading. It’s not my fault that I get vaulted into another world when I do.

“Here, start there and let me know when you’re done.”

Was I entirely sure that leaving Harvey to his own devices with my book was a good idea? No I wasn’t. I knew he was going to make fun of me, but oh well. Everyone else in the world liked to watch porn, I just liked to read it. He didn’t have to understand it, but if it would get his ass off mine? I’ll take the embarrassment and get it over with. 

It wasn’t even ten minutes before he set the book down on the kitchen island, clearing his throat. I turned to face him and saw a slight tinge to his cheeks.

“Alright, let’s get it over with,” I prepared for the roasting. “Tell me how much of a nerd and how much of a loser I am for reading word porn.”

Harvey just shoved his hands in his pockets. He no longer had his tie, or his jacket for that matter. His hair was unusually messy and that blush. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Harvey blush before. 

“Well,” Harvey started. “I can see the appeal.”

He can what? There was no possible way I heard him right. “Say that again?”

“I can see why you like to read. That author is really good at being… descriptive.”

I smirked, “So, you thought it was hot?”

“Amongst other things,” he bent at the waist, resting his elbows on the counter. “I get why you get lost in it, especially with something like that. Griffin is very charming, something we both have in common.”

“Oh please, you read some of the best smut an author can write at that’s what you take away from it?”

“Not at all, my love,” Harvey stepped closer. “I also learned that you have a thing for being called ‘my girl’. And I don’t blame you, you like it when I’m possessive. When I tell you that you belong to me.”

“This was not the reaction that I was expecting,” I eyed him. 

“Don’t worry, Yn. I promise I’ll make fun of you for it after I finish making you scream my name,” Harvey ducked his head down and wasted no time in showing his need. 

His tongue brushed over mine and he pulled me in tight against his body. Damn him and his unrivaled ability to turn me on. All it took was a few well placed kisses to my neck, to my ear to get me to our room and on the bed, hands not able to get enough of each other. 

If I knew Harvey would’ve had this type of reaction to reading smut, I should show him some real smut. That was nothing compared to some of the other stuff on my shelf. Maybe I could get him to do some of those things to me.

“Aww, is my girl already messy for me?” Harvey clicked his tongue, stripping the last of his clothes off. “Who knew you’d be so easy.”

“And who knew that you’d be so easy when it came to getting what I want by giving you a book.”

Harvey’s eyes narrowed. “You think you’re gonna get what you want?” In a quick grab, I was on my stomach, ass up, and Harvey’s hand came down a lot harder than I was prepared for. “Wanna try that again, pretty girl?”

I gasped when the next one came, and the next. “N-No.”

“Okay then,” Harvey let out a dark laugh, fisting his hand in my hair and pulling me up. “You gonna stop being a brat and let me do my job?”

I nodded, eyes falling shut when he pinched my nipple between his fingers. 

“Good girl.”

[slamminslamminmcgill]

brother i swear to you your saul/reader fics got me creaming for my life I've never been fed this well ever in my entire life. may i make a request/suggestion? I'd kill for you to write some overstimulation involving one of those remote controlled vibrators while on working hours, that shit would slap so hard from you omfg

hi!!! hope ur ok w/ a drabble for now :3

You swore one of these days you were gonna look for a new job. 

Today was not that day. You had left work yesterday carrying a delicately wrapped gift box, courtesy of your boss, who told you very specifically not to open it until you were home. And that you were to come in to work the next day wearing it. You remembered being flattered by his generosity, excited all the way home about what it could’ve possibly been. 

And then you opened the box and remembered your boss was a gigantic pervert. 

Still, you figured you didn’t fare much better, especially since you were the one standing outside your job with a vibrator inside you. It was off, thank god. You considered it a stroke of luck when you realized you had no idea how to turn it on. You fished your phone out of your pocket, about to text him that you were outside, when the front door swung open.

Saul Goodman was there to greet you with a shit-eating grin. “Right on time, kid! Come on in.” He was as giddy as a kid on Christmas, and it was fucking irritating. You thought about the pros and cons of cold-cocking him in his smug face, but figured great sex and steady income were worthwhile rewards of being his sexual guinea pig.

He pushed open the doors to his office, beckoning you inside. When you entered, he grabbed your wrist and pinned you to one of the columns. You were understandably caught off guard, which he saw as the perfect opportunity to start kissing and sucking your neck. His other hand wasted no time in getting to your crotch. He pulled away to ask you, “So… did you follow my instructions?”

You yelped, your mind racing to find the answer to his question. “Yes, sir. It’s… it’s inside.”

He pressed two fingers down hard against your clothed sex, searching for the toy. He gasped in delight when he felt it. “Good boy. Can I see?” He asked, letting go of you and stepping back.

He had you trained so perfectly. The second his hands left your body, you were scrambling to undo your belt. You slid your pants off and braced yourself against the marble before spreading your legs. Between them was a hot pink vibrator nestled inside you, just barely touching you where you needed it.

Saul gave a wolf whistle at the sight of you. “God, I knew this was a good idea. Though, just one more thing…” He reached into his pocket and grabbed some small plastic thing. You couldn’t quite tell what it was, but you figured it out seconds later.

He clicked a button and the device ignited inside you. Your knees buckled and you grabbed the column for support, already a whimpering, disheveled mess. Just how he liked you. He stepped closer to you, forcing his leg in between yours to keep you upright, and grabbed your chin.

“Look at me,” The command made you feel even weaker than you already were, “Here’s how today’s gonna go. We’re gonna have all our scheduled meetings in the morning. Then we break for lunch, and do walk-ins after. Regular day, right? Except you’re gonna keep that toy inside you the whole time. And you’re gonna do exactly what I say, when I say it. Understand?”

You nodded frantically. Verbal confirmation would have taken too much brain power.

Saul was not impressed. You knew he expected a verbal answer. “Hm. You wanna act like a brat today? Fine,” He tapped the up button on the remote a few times, and the vibrations grew stronger. You shrieked, back arching, knees buckling, your body practically liquifying but for his firm grip keeping you up. “Act like a brat all you want. But I’m in control here, and I’m not gonna let you forget it.” He turned the vibrator up to its max level. “Now I’m gonna ask you again. Do you understand?”

“Yes!” You cried, already on the precipice of an orgasm not 5 minutes into your shift. “Yes, fuck! Yes, Mr. Goodman! I understand!”

“Good boy,” Saul answered, clicking the vibrator off and letting you go. You whined at the lack of closure. He’d snuffed out your flame before it barely got to burn. “Get dressed. First client is gonna be here in a minute.”

You couldn’t even do that in peace. When you bent over to pick up your clothes, Saul flicked the vibrator on and off a few times just to watch your body jolt in response, laughing to himself each time he did it.

This was gonna be a long day.

[hollybell51]

An angel loved you

Navigation, Supernatural

Castiel x Goddess of life!Reader (but it could be gn)

Supernatural (2005), pre-canon

Request by @slayingyourmomrn

Hey I don't know if your taking requests (I'm kinda new to requesting) but I was wondering if you could do head cannons of Castiel falling in love with reader who is the goddess of life? X

Word count: 1.4K

Content: very little to be warned about, maybe some vague body-horror-ish stuff (angel true forms) and mentioned/implied sexual content.

Notes: I love this idea so much! I haven't done head canons before, so I'm not actually sure how this went, and omg i had so many ideas! I ended up going with the one that worked most comprehensively as this format, in pre-canon, and I'm honestly not 100% happy with it but I'm also a perfectionist trying to be ok with things that aren't my magnum opus (you can tell lmao). Either way, I tried, I hope this is ok!

Life is old, almost as old as God and Amara. Definitely older than an angel, even the first angel ever created 

Earth was your favourite place to be, purely because there was so much life everywhere – single cells dividing exponentially, then clusters of cells all striving to grow, then the first real creatures, algae and lichen and fungi and plants, then fish and amphibians and reptiles and finally mammals and, of course, humankind

You loved watching humans grow and cultivate the land, almost as much as God himself

But with that came fighting, and killing, and destruction. You’d met Cas after such a slaughter, you didn’t remember which one, but there were angels and demons involved and you hated it. Hated how humans got caught in the crossfire of heaven’s battles as much as you hated the purely human violence

You’d never seen an angel who didn’t look totally content and exalted with any of heaven’s actions, but there he was: shoulders of his human vessel slumped, wings hanging limply all around him, many eyes rolling slowly over the world, brilliantly sharp rings spinning slowly around his core

You’d approached, a little hesitant, and had eventually voiced your own sadness at the destruction

The angel seemed surprised, then wary, but had agreed with you: it was senseless and costly, and the humans in the middle did nothing to warrant being caught there

After that first conversation (maybe too rich a term, since it had consisted mainly of you simply standing next to him, just coexisting) he’d come back to find you, wherever you were, and gradually you’d begun to seek him out wherever he was somewhere you could reach 

As a goddess, you didn’t feel things the way humans did. You were ancient, after all, and that kind of thing took a long, long time

It was at the close of world war two that anything had really happened between you and him

You were mourning the genocide of an innocent people, Castiel was chafing against heaven’s refusal to do anything about it – despite the obvious rise in demonic power and the evil of the whole thing 

He’d come to you, frustrated (though not yet rebellious) and had sought comfort in your presence, you in his 

“Do you think we can feel?” he’d asked, uncertainty tainting his ethereal glow. “Angels aren’t supposed to, but I see them suffering, I see them dying and I… I want to stop it from happening.” 

“I don’t know,” you’d said after a pause. Uncertainty and doubt were not things angels were supposed to experience. You didn’t even know that was possible until you’d met Castiel, but you supposed any prototype was going to be different. 

“Do you?” he’d asked, rings clicking and whirring

“Feel?” 

“Yes.”

You’d thought about that, then nodded. The ache at your centre when you looked over the mass graves and shredded, bloody uniforms was feeling, certainly. The warmth when you watched children playing in a garden was a feeling. Even the tingling heat inside you when Castiel was around, lower and deeper, was a feeling. 

“I’m feeling now,” you’d said. “Are you?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s… confusing. I don’t know how they deal with it every day.” 

You’d laughed at that. “I don’t think they do.” 

A couple of floating, glowing eyes had spun to focus on you, blinking slowly. Then something soft had brushed against your form and you’d looked down to see a wing sliding over you, gentle and almost… nervous?

You didn’t need to actually breathe, but you sighed anyway. It felt good to touch him, to have him touching you. You’d leaned into the wing and brushed what passed for a hand over it, and the two of you had stayed like that for a long time

Things had continued as per usual after that, but you touched more often. His form couldn’t hurt you, goddess that you were, and you liked not being confined to a human’s perception. He saw you as you were, as you really were, and you saw him too. Rings, wings, many heads and eyes and limbs, the whole shebang. 

Maybe you’d been spending too much time among humans, maybe you should have gone back to your roots on one of Chuck’s newer and younger worlds, or headed down to the simpler environment of the ocean or a forest

You weren’t sure when it happened, but somewhere near the turn of the century, you realised that you loved Castiel, really loved him. It wasn’t like the love you felt for humans and plants and animals and life, either, it was hot and hard and roiled low inside you like hot syrup. And once the thought had occurred, you couldn't get it to go away

It was around this time that you melded your form into something substantial, still a goddess, but taking on a human appearance. It was heading into a harder time for gods and spirits, with new deities of money and technology and power and greed taking over. And climate change was wreaking havoc on your strength too, something Castiel seemed to realise – he was certainly spending more time with you

“I just feel so powerless all the time,” you sighed as you perched on one of his rings. The head of a deer stared back at you, then you blinked and it was a lion with snakes in its mane 

“You’re not powerless,” he told you. “I think other than God, you’re the most powerful being I’ve ever met.” 

“Thanks, Castiel. I just… I just wish that I was one of them, sometimes. Do you ever wish that?” 

Silence, then, “sometimes. I think it would be a lot simpler.” 

“Mhm. Just get born, grow, have babies, die. So simple.” 

He’d hummed, and the ring under you had cooled infinitesimally. You’d sat in silence for a while, then he’d asked, “do you really wish you were one of them?” 

“Huh?” 

“You said you sometimes wished you were one of them. Did you mean it?” 

You’d really had to think about that. It would be nicer, living a short life like that. Experiencing childhood. Falling in love with a person like you, marrying them, having a child. Growing a garden by hand and watering it every day. Cooking food because you needed it. Then dying when you got too old and life became too tiring. 

But then you’d only ever get to see what was in your lifetime, and on your limited plane of existence. You wouldn't get to watch a single cell turn into two, you wouldn’t remember the first fish crawling out of the sea, wouldn’t have met an angel, and certainly wouldn’t be sitting on him right now. 

“No,” you said, “not really.” You’d patted the ring under you, wobbling when a shining wing pushed at your back. “Besides,” you’d smiled, pushing the wing back. “I wouldn't get to do this.” 

“You’d be obliterated.” 

“Yeah. You’d have to find a vessel, and then I wouldn't be able to sit on you.” 

“I wouldn’t even know you existed if you were one of them,” he pointed out. 

“Maybe you’d be one too.” 

“Maybe. I wouldn’t like to be.” 

“Why?” 

“I wouldn’t get to see you.” 

That had flawed you for a second. 

“I love you too much to exist without knowing you.” 

You’d just smiled, reached out and taken a hand near you. “I love you too, Castiel.” 

After that, you were practically inseparable. You floated outside your form sometimes, with him, just to feel him on you, around you, in you. Sometimes, when he took a vessel, you’d share intimacy the way humans did

You discovered a love for sex with Castiel, in human form, where you could still see the rest of him beneath the surface and feel his grace all over you and inside your whole being 

You’d tell him you loved him, and he’d say it back to you, and sometimes you’d just get stuck in a cycle of “I love you”’s until one of you either flickered and became insubstantial, astronomical, ethereal, or was shut up by the other’s lips. Either way was fine with you

You were the goddess of life, and you were living, and you loved an angel. And an angel loved you. 

Taglist form here

[gnoccigon]

Leo Valdez Friends to Lovers headcanons asf 😍😍 pt. 1

i luv the idea of leo having a friends to lovers trope. like it’s so cutie and makes me feel safe ig idk bruh

okie anyway

yes this mans is constantly flirting w people and wants to be a PLAYAH, but his intentions were never rly serious (until he met u 😏)

cuz ya know, abandonment issues :(

from the first time he saw you, he thought you were incredibly pretty

Leo brain: new girl at camp… new girl cute… hope not Hephaestus kid… she smiled at me… *passes away*

but from then you’d hang out with piper a lot and leo would be loitering in your guys’s general vicinity, until eventually you were introduced by her

cuz of that you became friends quick, which he cherished and didn’t want to ruin by pursuing you

but i meannn, let the shameless flirting begin. yall would throw pick up lines back and forth like there is no tmrw

the more outrageous, the better.

but it was also a genuine friendship you guys created; as well as being very honest with each other

a genuine friendship full of THICK sexual tension and longing… but real nonetheless :D

imagine: one time you, leo and ur friends went swimming and were hanging out on the dock

people were running around and splashing in the water

you were sitting on the edge of the dock with leo. he was messing with a fishing pole, trying to make it automatic w whatever scraps he found lying around (lil genius mechanic) and you were j observing him

and gods, did he look good.

he was shirtless, and after spending all day in the sun he had a light bronze glow to his typical tan.

a few more freckles dusted his face and shoulders

and his curly hair, dried from sun and the sea salt, gave it this messy beach vibe. he was focused on his project, blessing his face with the cute concentration expression he makes whenever he is working.

there was no denying that you found him attractive, but in that moment; the mix of spending such a fun day with him, thinking about how much you like him as a person, and just looking at him shirtless–

it was like he was magnetic

“you look really good right now” you say out of the blue

despite him being focused on his fishing rod, he turned to look at you in surprise.

“what?” he said, not really comprehending your words.

“I saaaid you look really good right now.”

and for a few seconds, he just stared at you with his mouth agape.

“i- um… thank you?” he said, keeping his same shocked expression

you kind of broke him in that moment, he couldn’t process that you thought he looked good. he thinks you’re out of his league by miles (no bby ur gorgeous) and couldn’t 100% tell if you were making fun of him or not… buttt

“i’m just being honest you dingus” you said to him, laughing lightly

“your hair is extra curly right now, it’s cute.”

twirling a stray curl around your finger, giving him an adoring look

“welp, i’m gonna go grab a drink, brb” you say getting up and walking inside

Leo was left sitting on the dock, stunned and red from something else besides a sunburn.

piper: hey! earth to leoo, did you get sun poisoning or some shit? you’re all red

leo: …

piper: percy can u help me with this?

percy: i gotch u

*tsunami wave* -drenched asf leo

moving on…

you and leo would randomly say what’s on your mind

more time spent together, more small habits abt each other you would discover and treasure

at that point, leo couldn’t deny it anymore, he might have developed a lil crush on u (cough the bigggggest crush on u cough).

He didn't know how to go about it though, so of course he confided in piper.

“i mean at first i thought I just admired her as a friend yaknow? like a super sexy hot friend who i wanted to be with all the time, but keeping our relationship as just friends.

BUT NOW IDK WHAT TO DO I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE SHES LITERALLY TOO PERFECT AND I WANNA BE MORE THAN FRIENDS. IM FREAKINGNOUT EVERYTIME I SEE HER SHES SO FREAKING CUTE AHHHHH” -leo

Piper listening, definitely finds this whole situation funny. you guys are so painfully obvious, but also so fucking oblivious at the same time.

but in response to leo’s rant: “leo, i know”

“omg how did you know!?” 😦😦 he says genuinely baffled.

but as they talk, he makes piper promise to keep it a secret, even though she tells him that you’re interested too and pretty much everyone can tell.

alas, leo does not want to ruin anything, and decides to suffer in silence and keep talking about you to piper.

[ms-cartoon]

New HB Episode! (Jesus...)

Alright... So I seen the new episode - can't say this show gradually gets any better. I can fairly say there was only one decent thing about this episode, and that was the backstory with Moxxie and why he has daddy issues. Seriously though, why does almost EVERYBODY in this goddamn show have daddy issues??? And why are all these dads a**holes?? And yes, I'm going to include Millie's father. Of course, he's no abusive dad, but he (nor his wife) wasn't kind to Moxxie at all, and all because he was considered a weakling who uses guns as a choice for weapons. Which sounds like a pretty stupid reason. There are people who are scared to even pick up a gun, let alone pull a trigger.

I couldn't tell if I was skimming through this episode, or if the episode was just skimming itself and I just couldn't keep up. I think it's mostly the latter, cuz MY GOD, this was so rushed! I had to watch this twice to process whatever was going on. Everything just feels so crammed into this episode There's also Moxxie's ex-boyfriend, but I'll get to that in a minute.

⦁ So the first start of the episode, we start with Moxxie and Loona in the room. I just love how Loona is just there, lol!! She's just sitting at the table on her phone and has no speaking lines whatsoever. She might as well have not even appeared in this episode, for real. What's bad about this is that she was only there for another "Moxxie is fat!" joke. I really don't get what's so funny about this gag. Why is it even a gag? Moxxie is not fat! He don't even look it. I highly doubt he's even heavy. Loona and Blitzo are just being d*cks to him. It doesn't even help that he mentions he lost a few pounds just so they stop making fun of him. Now it's just sad!!! They body-shamed Moxxie so much, he felt he had to lose a few pounds so they would leave him alone about it. They did not make this funny, they just made it worse. PLZ STOP with the unfunny fat jokes!!

⦁ This seems to be the most try-hard horniest episode compared to the ones that have Stolas in it. Seriously, what in the gracious hell is with these dildos popping up from chairs and walls!!!??? 

Then there's Blitzo who has photos of porn in the drawers in his office (why would he even put those where people can open it up and take stuff out anyway??)!!! And then you got this perverted fish (who's the most annoying out of everybody in this episode) tryna bang everybody in IMP! He's literally just another Stolas, Blitzo, and Angel Dust character put in one: an LGBT horny mess who just wants to get his mack on anyone around him or just certain people, sexually harassing them in the process. Plus, anything that comes out of his mouth is a literal sex joke and it's just uncomforting.

⦁ So Moxxie's family is in the mafia and they're rich...... But why??? I thought Imps were of lower class and practically poor compared to the other species of demons.

  ⦁ You mean to tell me Millie and Moxxie dated the same guy at one point in their lifetime before getting together? Okay, but it seems to be too much of a coincidence. Idk, it just comes off as odd.

⦁ So Moxxie and Chaz had a thing going on before he met up with Millie. But when they were together, their relationship seemed to be more centered around lust than there was genuine love. Obviously considering when Chaz was quick to take the money and abandoned Moxxie when he needed help during the heist. Now this, amongst other parts of this series, just keeps up the stereotypical nonsense that all gay dudes are horny for each other and want nothing but to get it on. I don't understand what Moxxie even sees in his perverted a**. What makes no sense about this is that Moxxie isn't the type of guy that just get's horny like that. He's not perverted and doesn't get turned on over the slightest of things, yet he's shown stroking a gun while cleaning it while at the same time feeling pleasure. Chaz is more vulgar than Blitzo, and Moxxie barely tolerates him! So, wtf??

⦁ So in hell, you can pretty much get away with anything illegal with no consequences. Whether it'd be robbing a bank, murdering someone, sexual harassment, etc. So why in THE HELL is there a prison???!!

⦁ Blitzo and Moxxie's meeting makes no sense to me. So #1, I was under the assumption Moxxie met Blitzo after he met and married Millie, but now they're telling us they met in jail right after Chaz abandoned Moxxie. #2, Why is Blitzo quick to let Moxxie join IMP after only saying a few words to him? He didn't even ask him for his name or let him speak or anything - he was just like, "Hey let's bust outta here and you can join my company!" #3 Why is Moxxie even smiling? What has Blitzo said to make him feel better so quickly after basically being dumped?? Does he feel like he's being accepted or something? Like bro, you just met this dude and you didn't even say a word to him.

⦁ Millie's more pissed at Chaz for abandoning Moxxie at one point. Why is Millie getting so angry and quick to kill Chaz over something that happened she wasn't even present for!? She never even met Moxxie around that time. Plus, it's not like that situation is bothering Moxxie now. There was no need for her to get so triggered here. Not saying she's not right to get upset about it, but the sudden rage was a little extra.

  ⦁ If Blitzo and Moxxie were considered friends when they met, then why is Blitzo such an ass to him all the time?? Are we supposed to give Blitzo props for acknowledging or being nice to Moxxie?

⦁ Crimson seems to make a better villain than any other antagonist introduced in this series. Mainly because he has motivation. From what I can gather from this, from Crim's perspective, Moxxie was turning soft because of his wife. It seems that he was extremely pissed off that the mother disagreed with how he raised Moxxie, going as far as to kill her. Granted it was too far and for a petty reason, but it's better than just doing things and having no motivation for them, unlike Stella.

⦁ A priest.... in hell...?

⦁ They only have Moxxie stand up for himself ONCE in this episode, and it's not even enough. His whole life from when he was a kid, he was pushed around by his father and put up with his abuse. The second he meets him after a long time, he's still afraid of him. The only time he puts his foot down is when he says he's not gonna go along with whatever his father plans for him and refuses his commands.... and that was it. It seemed like he was threatening his dad initially, saying how good he was at his job, and not even a second later he gets tased and knocked out, becoming a damsel in distress. That was the most brave we get out of him. If anything, his freakin WIFE was doing the most out of him once more, becoming the man of the relationship as always!! Wouldn't it have been better if Moxxie tried to get out of the knot and fought his dad or Chaz? Maybe he could have helped out Millie and they could make it to where Millie was having difficulties fighting all those gang members.

⦁ Speaking of that; Millie is only useful in battle only when the plot deems it necessary. It kinda seems like she's falling in and out of being a talented fighter. She gets taken down at one point and then the next she'll beat everybody's ass with no sweat! Sure - defeat an entire mob whether it be a mafia or a bunch of agents and take down a whole damn sea monster, but get knocked out by a freakin glass bottle and your leg ruptured by a bear trap...Yeah, I can totally buy that. I feel like they were being a little extra with Millie taking down all those gang members anyway. As I said, she could've had some difficulty fighting all those dudes and Moxxie could've helped her.

⦁ I swear- the women in this show get no respect not just in the show itself, but from the writers. Millie is once again only existing to be just a woman who's married to Moxxie and only gets angry and violent just for Moxxie. There's at least one episode that should've been about her, but it was mostly about her husband and she was just there as his moral support. Literally, the only thing we get outta her in this episode is her extremely hot temper, and all because of Chaz, who she dated at one point. Why is she so upset with Chaz? Why did she hate him so much before she knew about his relationship with Moxxie? What did he do to make her dump him? Or did he dump her? How did she even end up with a guy like him?? We don't know!! We only get to know about Moxxie's past relationship with him and how it faltered, and that is such a letdown! This could've been our chance to explore Millie as a character, even if it's a little flashback of her love life.

  ⦁ I'm not gonna disclude Moxxie's mother in this. Honestly, I don't think it was necessary for her to get killed off just so we could feel more sympathy for Moxxie. We can already see how his father treats him. Can't forget Loona or Blitzo. Not even Millie's parents liked him.

⦁ I'm I the only one who feels like Millie and Moxxie as a couple is boring? Yeah they love each other and would probably die for each other and that's nice n all, but wouldn't it be interesting to have Millie and Moxxie have a slight argument at least once? We all know these two love each other to death. They're sweeter and more loving towards each other than anybody else around them, and that's why it would be interesting to see a quarrel. Sometimes, you can't be a married couple without having an argument or two at one point. Millie clearly felt upset that she was kept in the dark about Moxxie's family. She kept on questioning Moxxie; "Why haven't I met dad before? Are you okay? You know you can tell me anything, right?" And Moxxie would just continuously dodge the questions and not tell her anything. This actually could've been another opportunity for Millie's character. Not that she has to lash out at him, but maybe she could've told him how she felt about him not saying anything about Crimson, his ex, his mother, or how he feeling in general while also having an upset attitude y'know. Maybe Moxxie could've argued back and said he just didn't wanna worry her or something.

  ⦁ I don't think Moxxie and Chaz necessarily have to marry just so Chaz could be a part of the family. If this is just about financial issues then why can't Crim and Chaz come to an agreement or something? How did Crim not know that Chaz was actually not rich?

⦁ I just know people are triggered over the fact that Blitzo slept Chaz and are like "BLITZO NO!! YOU BELONG TO STOLAS!!" or some whiny sh*t like that, even though Stolas and Blitzo aren't even an official couple. When did Blitzo suddenly become an imp version of Stolas? Why was he so quick to get horny and sleep with Chaz and he JUST MET HIM! This might as well be the same situation he had with Stolas, except he's Stolas and Chaz is Blitzo. Not to mention Blitzo ended up sneaking around and snooping through his stuff.

⦁ Why is Blitzo the one to get suspicious of Chaz anyway? He is mostly just there for comic relief and mostly seems more goofy and lovable compared to his behavior in the latest episode. It's kinda a good thing I guess, but I'm not gonna hope for the better of him. I wouldn't say he changed completely since there was a moment he lashed out at Moxxie for a split second. I don't even think he has any motive for trying to get him caught in a lie cuz he doesn't even know him, other than the fact that he wants to be the only one who ruptures Moxxie and Millie's relationship (I'm sorry... are we supposed to be rooting for him still?) If anything, I think it makes more sense if Millie was the one to figure out was Chaz was up to considering her history with him (if there was any. We don't know.... it was never shown!)

⦁ I can't believe Crimson easily let Millie walk away with Moxxie scott free without putting up a fight! Bro killed dozens of people!! He wasn't even afraid to kill his own wife. He even threatened to harm Moxxie and Millie! Why is he backing down so easily!?

Uh, yeah... this certainly wasn't the greatest episode. I think the only thing good about it was Moxxie's childhood. That was certainly interesting (and dark). Apart from that, I was expecting something outta nothing. We could've seen some potential from Millie, but we didn't. This show just can't exist without sex jokes. It's alright if they wanna be funny like that, but at this point, it's just uncomforting. Wondering how they're gonna screw up the next episode.

[mctwinkdom]

This is so cute, thank you for creating the questions @ravenrage27, and for the tag @slugesh @twinkodium

What color are your eyes?

Brown.

Tell me about your pets. Or your dream pet.

I had two cats when I was a kid. No pets for now but I would love to adopt a cat once I'm stable enough in my life.

Share some interesting fact about yourself.

I played the piano for 8 years, from 7 to 15, then brutally stopped for personal reasons. Didn't touch a keyboard for years but I finally got back to it and I've been playing everyday lately. It really feels like healing my inner kid/teen.

Also I can solve a Rubik's cube :D (Lando I can teach you!!)

What was the first fandom you were a part of?

Ugh One Piece. I read my first fic on Skyblog.

Do you have any phobias?

I'm really not comfortable in deep waters, when I can't see what's below my feet...

Are you a picky eater? If so, what food can't you stand?

Oh my God, yes I am. And I join Lando in our common distate for fish. Also nori seaweed, I almost threw up the last time I tried, I couldn't swallow.

Do you eat the burger and fries at the same time? Or one after another?

The correct order is: one bite of burger, couple of fries, one burger bite, fries, etc. And you should always finish by the fries.

Winter or summer?

I'm miserable in both, to be honest, but let's say summer.

What fanfiction tropes are your favorite?

Rivals to lovers, Friends to lovers, pining, sexual tension, and a lot more.

Are you studying or working? What did you study, what is your job?

I'm studying Publishing and Literary creation.

What is the last country you visited?

Belgium! To visit a friend.

What country would you want to move to after retiring?

Italy or Spain. Somewhere warm.

Who was your first crush?

Kid named Cyprien in kindergarden 😅 don't even remember his face, just that he reminded me of Arrow in the Indestructibles.

How did you get into F1 fandom?

French YouTuber named Squeezie organized a "GP explorer" with 20 content creators competing in F4 cars. I liked watching that race so much I wanted to see real professionals racing. I fell for Charles Leclerc first and then Lando stole my heart.

-

I'm tagging @landoom @v3lnys @izzief1rambles

[juniebugs]

I call this: Transcribing a real text conversation for Peter Parker & friends (it is incredibly ooc but pls enjoy based on vibes alone)

also warning: not explicit but some sexual humor in there. my friends and i aren't far above the ages of these losers so i'd consider this all age-appropriate banter. :)))

group chat convo between Peter, Ned, MJ, Shuri, and Harley

Peter: mouth_sounds.mp3

Peter: yummy pushy

Ned: WHY DID YOU ACTUALLY SEND THIS HERE

Peter: you told me to

Ned: I TRULY DID NOT

Peter: proof?

Shuri: WHAT IS GOIN ON IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS

Peter: more_mouth_sounds.mp3

Peter: gagged

Ned: HE ASKED ME FOR AN ANIMAL TO MAKE AN IMPRESSION OF

Ned: I SAID FISH

Shuri: LMAO this is incredible

Ned: THATS SO AWFUL PETEB

MJ: It goes hard on 2x

Peter: I could do better if you Pau me

Peter: pay

Peter: thats not the only thing thats hard

Shuri: It's like a chipmunk

Ned: horse_impression.mp3

Ned: heres peter neighing for context of how peacefully this began

MJ: thats an excellent horse

Peter: I'm being exposrd

Peter: thank you mj

Peter: I love you

Peter: guys mane an animal ill do an impressuon

Peter: say fish

Peter: guys say fish

Ned: DONT I REPEAT DONT SAY FISH

Peter: i do a mean fish

Shuri: Please do a fish impression Peter

Peter: ohgodthenoises.mp3

Ned: its the fact that you gag at the end of every fish impression

Peter: its a Peter cladding

Peter: cladsic

MJ: *groaning emoji*

Peter: claddic

Peter: softgroan.mp3

Peter: sory

Peter: my impression of mj when hears fish

Ned: NASTY

Ned: DELETE

Peter: no

Ned: REMOVE

Peter: im too proud of it sory

Peter: dory

Peter: finding dory

Peter: fish?

Peter: fish impression?

MJ: >>(my impression of mj..) Why is this so accurate tho

Ned: im going to vomit

Shuri:>>(why is this so accurate...) Can confirm

Peter: mmmmmm

Shuri: BLAH

Ned: >>(Can confirm) GET AWAY FREAJ

Shuri: sorry hate myself for that

Peter: mmmMMMMmMmMmM

Ned: peter do an impression of a camel

MJ: guys shuri is lying she does not make fish noises *angry emoji*

Ned: thank god

Peter: camel_impression.mp3

MJ: >>(peter do an impression...) Camels don't make noises

MJ: they speak telepathicly

Peter: well my impression ssyd othereisr

Ned: >>(camel_impression.mp3) explain this then mj

MJ: My bad guess I was wrong

Peter: camels store fat not wster

Peter: but u get the point

Ned: "i got water in my humps" is a peak quote i think

Shuri: >>(camel_impression.mp3) WHAT THE FUCK

Peter: guys do u think i have s future career in voice acting

Shuri: I haven't spoke with Peter in person for a bit but I don't believe that's his voice.

Ned: LMAO why not

Ned: >>(guys do u think i have...) yes just avoid bubbleguppies

Peter: i've been hiding this part of myself for a while.. *uwufingeremojis*

Peter: I've been embawwsded

Shuri: Peter let that dawg out in him

Peter: omg Dawg?

Ned: are you going to bark again?

Peter: woofingdogimpression.mp3

Peter: dawg imptrssin

Peter: better than barking

Ned: dammit

Ned: why did it go slow and reverbed at the end

Peter: i got horny

Ned: OH MY GOD STOP

MJ: the dog became a dawg

Peter: raw dawgin that dawg in me

Peter: cat.jpeg

Peter: thsts a cat

Harley: this is the most out of pocket conversation I-

Shuri: Harley control peter he's outta control

Harley: fr

Shuri: he's letting the dawg out

Peter: no I am being very normal

Peter: nuh uh

Shuri: Get the dawg back in that boy

Peter: guys have you heard my fish impression?

Peter: its pretty food

Peter: good

Harley: oh god

Ned: STOP PLEASE GOD

Peter: 123 for fish impression

Peter: 123

Peter: 123

Harley: PETER NOOOOOO

Peter: disturbing_fish_impression.mp3

Peter: you guys asked for it

Ned: STOP GAGGING AT THE END

Peter: you like the gagging?

Ned: oh my god

Peter: I'll be sure to keep doing it

Harley: tell me why that sounded like it was on 2x speed when it was in fact on 1x speed

Peter: just for u

Peter: damn if this is me sober imagined if i was dornk rn

Shuri: YIUR SOBER ?

Harley: peter what have you been doing to fishes to make them sound like that? *eyebrow raised emoji*

Peter: I plead the fifth

Peter: more like

Peter: I plead the fish

Harley: JAIL

Peter: pleasethemouthsoundsstop.mp3

Peter: >>(YIUR SOBER?) yea can't you tell

Harley: I ASSUMED YOU WERE DRUNK BAHAHAHA

Peter: that would be absurd I'm acting so normal rn ha

Peter: ha ha

Ned: (hes been up since 4am)

for my own mental well being i am stopping here also because a.) we then reference like pets and stuff idk how to translate to the mcu and also b.) to recall each audio i had to listen to them. again. god help me.

please let me know if theres someone who you think should've been a different character. (in this instance im ned) i am very curious. also is there a name for this group of friends?? lemme know pls and thank you

and if you read all this i am sorry and thank you!!! :)

[rottenbrainstuff]

IWTV s2 ep 3 - Armand is a fucking little gremlin

Interesting ep! I mean man they all are. This show is amazing. I love the actors, I (mostly) love the updates to the story, just, such care and attention to every facet from everyone involved. Beautiful.

I always get a bit eye-rolly when you have (or see a stupid instragram video of) a white character eating expensive fresh sushi where the fish is presented whole and still having nerve twitches after death, and they freak out about it and can't eat it. I get that it's a bit weird and if it was me sure I would have to wait until it stopped wiggling to start eating, but like, where did you think the fish came from, did we pick it off a bush? Anyways, here I can almost, almost forgive the very tired trope, because you could say perhaps it is a contrast between Daniel, and the vampires and their predatory feeding habits, maybe.

I knew we were getting some flashbacks of Armand's old coven and Nicholas and Lestat, but I was surprised by how short it all actually was. I do hope that when we get to season three we're going to have some proper time spent on all of this. Armand's dirty old satanist coven was so interesting to me.

I actually had to pause the show to get mad for a little bit when I saw Louis say that Lestat abandoned Nicki and abandoned the Paris coven, because everything Lestat does is just for himself. Abandoned! Oh my god Louis, what did Armand tell you? Abandoned! Lies! Armand, you gremlin! Right, sure, the guy who was screaming with his face all red when Armand took Nicholas away is going to just teehee oops leave him behind there for absolutely no reason, no reason whatsoever, yes for sure, nothing more to say there. I also don't trust that the theater scene played out exactly as Armand said, with Lestat quite callously fucking him while Nicholas watched, no, I don't buy that. Everything Armand says is suspect to me.

It's so sad that Claudia reinforces this idea later as well, complaining that Lestat never told them there was this cool fun amazing coven troupe in Paris, he only ever warned them away and told them other vampires were vicious.

(Bruce is sure shit, isn't he. I kinda wanna see him show up again at some point. Maybe he can be one of the vampires at Lestat's big concert? I feel like he must be friends with my V:tM character's shit sire, haha, since they seem to both be reading from the same scuzzy man playbook. On another V:tM tangent (sorry) I know Lestat is the quintessential toreador, but Armand with his creepy tricks, his ability to not be recorded, his religious cosplay, and (in the book) his coven's old tradition of burying new fledglings and making them dig themselves up through their own graves as a test, he gives me lasombra vibes)

This show is so confusing to me and I love it. Every character is so bad and good, good and bad, sad and mean, mean and sad. Everyone is behaving horribly, but I also feel bad for everyone. Lestat is a dickhead but it's so tragic to me how everyone always assumes the worst of him all the time when he really was honestly just trying to protect the people he loved. Armand is a nasty manipulative gremlin, but I feel terrible for him as well, how his face falls every time the situation turns sexual. God, him and Louis were so awkward in the park, like two teenagers who don't really know what to do, or, like two very sad adult men both half-heartedly playing out a role that neither one really fully wants to play. Man, now I desperately wanna see him and Eric get it on not for the old man yaoi, but just to fucking see Armand actually genuinely want something for once.

Jacob is doing such a great fucking job. Poor old Louis.

For some reason I can't stop thinking about Sam (? that was Sam right?) showing Claudia how the rat box works, as if it's her first day at Vampire McDonalds and he's showing her the deep fryer. Santiago is also an amazing character, they're all amazing characters, I love this show so much. Poor Claudia. She is so happy to be included in this group, so happy that she completely and totally ignores the red flags that are waving in her face. Claudia gets her rage and her cruelty from Lestat, but I guess she gets her desperate desire to see good in people even when they mean her harm from Louis.

But, the end sequence is just a bit strange to me. The tension of oh, is Armand going to hurt Louis??? is very strange and doesn't work for me. We know he's not going to, Louis is here in the present day. For me it takes the tension out of the scene. I mean, beautiful acting on Jacob's part, the fact that what he thinks will be his last words are all just his wishes and concerns for Claudia to be happy was just. Ugh! Ugh! But, it just didn't work for me. And anyways, who is narrating this whole bit? This scene shows the coven threatening Armand to do something about Louis, and I don't buy for a single second that that's the actual dynamic here, that Armand is just this poor helpless guy who is forced to do what his coven wants him to, no, not a chance. So I want to know who is narrating this. But... in this scene, Armand and Louis are not in the room. They've both left to speak to the buyer's lawyer, Daniel is by himself checking out the talamasca files on his laptop, yet the narrative continues somehow. That's the first time I've noticed that happen, and I found it very strange. I don't know if this was done on purpose and you're supposed to notice how strange that is, or if it was a mistake. Was it supposed to be info from the talamasca files? I didn't get that impression.

But anyways, generally amazing, as always. I do hope the show includes Gabrielle in the future, and I hope we see more detailed flashbacks of all of them in Paris, and what exactly happened to poor Nicholas. Every actor here is doing amazing.

[cxnsolatio]

❛ Tell me what you want me to do. ❜

✚✚✚ @eyesofcuriosity

tell me starters ⁽ ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗᶦⁿᵍ ⁾

❝ I don't know. ❞ His voiced came muffled out from behind his fingers, the sentence repeated like a bad mantra, evergrowing in intensity, turning doubt into hostility. ❝ I don't know and I don't care. How about that? ❞ Law looked up and pulled down on both his bottom eyelids, the conjunctiva quickly drying upon the sudden exposure. His fingers moved up, then, to knead his cheeks, a frustrated grunt coming out of him for having an outburst right in Nessa's face. She was so not deserving of his bad side, but it was not a fifty-fifty ratio, was it?

There was something he had heard the teens say: 'if you can't handle me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best'. To this day, Law could not tell whether the saying was actually wisdom or rubbish, but regardless of value, perhaps the sentiment applied. Nessa's path was laden with snaps and bursts of rudeness if she wanted to stay with him, which apparently she did, only God knew how. Or indeed why. Were one to reverse the situation, however, they might conclude that, if they were incapable of handling someone's courteous and happy side, then they did not deserve them, period. Law risked losing Nessa and all of her sides, each of them prettier and sweeter than the last, with the way he was acting.

It was not entirely his fault, though. No book could have prepared him for the loving worry of a woman, else he'd be a perfect romantic.

Seated at her kitchen table, he scanned the recipe books and loose cards Nessa had written, purchased or inherited from faceless, voiceless women, hoping some cursive word would go pop. Maybe not so voiceless — from wherever they were, in this world or the next, they still had lessons to impart onto young homemakers and baking aficionados.

Wooden spoon in hand, Nessa was waiting for him to make a decision. She reminded Law of a particular old nun from his childhood (Sister Agnes her religious name), who enjoyed to use the branch of a quince for a paddle with which to punish misbehaving children, but that he did not voice, only gurgling as a preface to a laughter that did not materialise. He was sure Nessa, who was still young and lovely, would find aggravation in being compared to elderly women of the cloth, and that was just the start of it. Next, he would be recounting his childhood crimes and the number of times his buttocks had been graced by Sister Agnes's makeshift instrument of discipline, and from there, well, then they would be delving into more unsavoury questions Freud would call a delectable feast, apropos of food.

Suddenly, Law's brow furrowed as he realised he would not be eating marmalade for a long time. Old Sister Agnes… May she rest in hell for putting him off marmalade and messing with his incipient sexual awakening.

❝ It's the process of elimination. ❞ He stated, the wheels of his logical mind whirring. ❝ I do not eat meat, so we can exclude those from the menu. ❞ He said, pushing away recipes for stewed pork and beef brisket. ❝ I spend most of time locked deep down in a submarine, so I am more used to freshly caught fish and canned legumes. Maybe something like that, yes? No? ❞

Law sighed, bumping his head into the table before complaining a small-voiced 'ow' and grunting sacrilege to himself. Away he did with breads and pies, and everything greasy in between. ❝ This. I want you to do this. ❞ Making a decision after much pondering and dramatics, he pointed repeatedly at the card shortly titled "rice". Quite down to the point. ❝ White rice with pepper flakes and hot sauce. Think you can manage that? ❞

[potatoes83]

Random...

And another one. Dammit. Shades of:

Detroit had a classical station for years, so did Windsor. I used to fall asleep at night listening to that shit. And I mean, they were commercial stations, but they had to be pretty low wattage, you had to hunt out just the right spot on the dial, after dark, and we were not at all far from wherever they were broadcasting from. The last one in the market went belly up in 1997.

From 1997 to 2005, there was no classical music in Detroit. Then WRCJ came along, public radio, a venture of the Detroit Public Schools, who owned the station, and Detroit Public Television. And for all these years since, classical music has been on the air.

I am a monthly sustaining member. Have been for some time. I am more than willing to shell out for a cause I believe in. And this is something I love so very much... But I don't know if I can ethically continue my support. Not if this is the path they choose to take. And a caveat that I shouldn't even have to type, this is not "I hate the gays". So many people see a thought like this, put two and two together, and come up with banana pudding. This. Is. Not. That. This is "I hate lazy racism".

Let me explain that. "...the musical community is brimming with talented queer artists of all sorts". Yes. Yes it is. It is also brimming with straight ones. And white ones. And black ones. Male and female. Bet there's some Chinese ones too. Catholic? Jewish? Isn't it fun to separate people by arbitrary characteristics? And yes, there is in fact a time and place for that... Boys sports, for example. Helps with the whole broken bones and concussions of sporting girls thing.

But in music? The musical community is brimming with talented artists of all sorts, there, fixed it for ya. I mean, I don't think you're gonna be sitting there watching Andre Rieu come out on stage going "oh good, I got the straight white one, this is gonna be a good show".

It's the sexual equivalent of lazy racism, that's that I mean, taking one of the most boring and frankly irrelevant aspects of what would normally be a dynamic, talented, and unique individual, and using it to define them as an artist, or a person generally. All Russians drink vodka and wear mink hats. All Irish are potato farming alcoholics. Everyone from the South is an inbred hick... Hey, what can you tell me about this artist? Oh, well, he's queer...

Not... a violin virtuoso? Not someone who can make that instrument sound like the voice of God? Not someone who was THE definitive soloist of whatever composition because of the way they made the strings sing? Not somebody who donates their time to teach music in inner-city schools, reads to the elderly in nursing homes, is an avid gardener and beekeeper, raises tropical fish, enjoys white wine and long walks on the beach? None of that, the only characteristic of note is that he likes the dick? Nothing even as individual as that, he's one of those people who likes the dick, a mere part of a group, remember, first and foremost always. The LGBTQIA+ COMMUNITY is creative... Not individuals within it, nope, the whole damn thing. One amorphous, nameless blob. And not to belabor a tired point, but if I went ahead and said "This month, we celebrate the contributions of STRAIGHT, WHITE MEN", mmm... yeah. We'll just leave that one on the windowsill to cool off.

Nevermind the fact that they put this level of shameless "watch how quick we stop giving a shit July 1" pandering out on D-day... You know, the start of a military offensive that turned the tide of world war II, killing 10,000+ American and British soldiers the first day??? But no, please, tell me more about the alphabet soup group; it's been ever so quiet about them these last six days.

This one sucks... It really does, you can't wholly avoid woke, it's just not possible. Some of your money is going to end up in the hands of people or causes you hate, or at the very least, do not agree with. A dollar goes into the collection plate at Church to fight for life, a dollar of my union dues funds a far-left career politician who is fighting for unrestricted abortion... But is this messaging, this shortsightedness, this shameless and transparent promotion of the Thing of the Moment, something I want to support financially? Something so disingenuous, when there are so many honest things that could be better served with my money?

I know in my heart that the answer is no. Even when it hurts so much to let it go. 🥔

[fighting-these-demons]

Bucch*g*ri Liveblog ep 2

Ok so intro kicks in RIGHT where we left off.

Slicked hair and Incest Ingenue are checking in on Green Gobblin'

His half-up do just turned into a heart in the back so my call before was Spot On.

He was trying to catch Arajin before he realized Arajin was on a date with his sister.

The Fountain is going off as he's about to stand up and I assume throw himself at Arajin.

He makes a heart with his hands as he stands up and blows a kiss with a wink as he kicks him clear to tomorrow.

Yep! 😂 Dang why's he gotta be on the Nazi team????

Kiss With A Fist ought to be playing in the background!

DJEISJSNSJ

MATAKARA SAVE HIM!!!!!! 😱

Yeah Green Gobblin' is absolutely Down Bad. Arajin was already his type before he left a mark to remember him by and now he's all Green Goblin' is gonna be thinking about.

OP 🎻🎵🥁🪘🎶🎹🎶

Oh thank God he hasn't been sleeping outside his house is just old!

He thinks he won! 😂

Dbsisnsjsjsn THEY HAVE A BEST FRIEND STONE!!!!! 💖💖💖💖

Oof!

Damn it's like I guessed. :(

Damn I'm so sad this wound up teacher aint dating the Cat Man. 😭💔

What if it's Just A Cat and not a woman at all? The dialogue is so extreme and so one sided that it has to be.

So..... if it's an Actual Cat then that means Cat Man's got a chance!!! 💖💖💖 GO CAT MAN GO!!!!

HEEISNSNSJSJ

HE LOST HIS PANTS IN FRONT OF TEAL TERROR OH NO

Wait a damn minute!!! Could he see him?????

Lmao the little shampoo guard on that big ol man! 😂 Gap Moe!

EHDIDJSJSJ

A TRAMP STAMP?!?!?!?!?!??!

You've gotta be kidding!!!! 😂😂😂😂😂

Well now Matakara MUST have one too! I bet he's got the other genie and that the heart shape teams stamp printed on his shirt is what's above his ass crack too.

EHSJSJSBSJSJSJ HE WAS LOOKING AT IT?!?!?!?!, LMAO

😱

Nooooooooooo DUDE NOOOOOO

Oh Thank God

Also lmao this kid is either So Straight or So Repressed but he's caught in the whirlwinds of a BL anime! 😂

JESUS what kind of answer?????

The framing in this show is Too Much! 😂

Green Gobblin' built an entire hideout and Fight Club to avoid his sexually fixated little sister. Damn.

He said "Get Lost Girl"

Ooooooh I wonder what Jabashiri has against Matakara?

She's jealous that he let him have a bite and not her!!! 😂 I hate this trope but this is funny seeing it the other way around for once.

That or she has beef with Pink Hair Green Eyes.

I love them! They're so Tsuboe coded! 💖💖💖

Dbdidjsjsj RUN ARAJIN!!!!

Oh Damn!!! I LOVE Minato Kai's hangout!!!

So he DID see it and he has spiritual awareness!!!!!

LMAO he's SO JEALOUS!!!! "I don't get it. What do you see in that jerk." While kicking and shuffling his feet!!! 😭💔💖

You're a piece of shit but I'm still sorta rooting for you three!!!

THE AUDACITY!!!!

Man like he'd tell YOU after he had to fish him out of the pond!!!

He still needs to get a handle on tuning Big Man out lmao!

!!!!!!!! PURPLE HAIRED GIRL IS SO SO SO SO CUTE!!!!!!!

Son jumped out the fuckin window God Bless h has great instincts and knows how to run!

🏃

Of course you do girl.

🤦‍♀️

Jesus who failed her??? Why is she like this??? Why didn't her parents step in when she started being creepy at home???? Can she be fixed/saved???? I really want to like her. 😞

It'd be cute that she made a plush of her crush if it wasn't her brother.

LMAO BOY SHE DOES NOT CARE ABOUT YOU PLEASE

WBSISJSBSJSJSBSJSJSV

DAMN it crumbled to DUST on impact!

SJSJSJDJSUSHSBSUDHSHHSB

YES THANK YOU

Maybe a few hard right hooks will beat some sense into her. 😂

Oh shit she's gonna kill him 😱 ARAJIN RUN HER TACTICS ARE WORSE THAN HER BROTHER'S!!!!!!!!

OOOOOOOOH the straight haired Matakara look alike is an allusion to his dead brother maybe possessing him?

Ghost shenanigans?

OH SHIT HES IN PRISON

Why is he in prison? The Japanese justice system tends to railroad people afaik so is he actually even guilty of whatever he's in there for?

Oh how brother is SO FINE but I have a TERRIBLE FEELING

ARAJIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNN!!!!!

MATAKARA STILL HAS HIS LOVE FOREVER STONE!!!!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭💖💖💖💖FACE YOUR GUILT AND LOVE HIM!!!!!

Damn Teal Terror is so fucking pissed I'm surprised he isn't ripping the juice box apart with his teeth! 😂

Javascript LMAO I'm keeping that typo as his nickname!!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Javascript said "NOT MY MAN YOU'RE NOT!!!"

💥

Oh hey! Teal Terror name is Zabu!

Oh I Love Javascript!!! 💖💖💖💖💖 It's that taco bell obvious type meme.

IN THE FOUNTAIN?!?!?!?!?!

Amazing. 10/10 👍👍👍👌���👌👏👏👏👏👏

I LOVE HIS FIGHTING STYLE YAAAAAAY He fights like Tsume and Spike!!! 💖💖💖

It helps that he's my favorite colors too. 😌💖

Cropped Jacket!!! 💖💖💖👌

(Man why'd you choose to fight in water in white pants though you're gonna look like you pissed yourself when you get out)

You gotta be kidding me. I love gags and they couldn't have had like 1 serious moment? You've gotta let a few moments land to make the jokes funny.

THEIR JACKETS MATCH!!! 💖💖💖

Djsisnsj I love this genie! Gnaw him babe!!! Bite him! He's like a big angry cat and I love it! 🤣

Oh wow so he's able to ignore Mister Megaphone when he's paying attention to and worried about Matakara? 👀

Damn he always leaves.

So he's willing to fight fir this girl that hates him and told him specifically that if he fights her brother again that she'll kill him.

Assuming that she'll love him if he does or agree to date him.

But he won't face the guilt and just apologize to Matakara?

Shit that's gotta be rough being held back 3 tines in high school. Like they just want kids out at that point and it looks like the student body gets passed through no matter what there.

What did ge do to get held back????????

Damn could you imagine being 21 in high school???

This man is 21 and somehow looks like a 41yo MEAL

YES MY FAVIRITE MAN IS ON THE SCENE!!!!!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

HE CAN DO NO WRONG HES SO HOT

SAY AND DO ANYTHING BEAUTIFUL!!!!! IT'S A-OK WITH ME!!!!!!!!!! 💖💖💖💖👍👍👍👍

He looks like Ryu with a RAD color palette!!

IS THAT CHEST HAIR OR A TATTOO???

boy noooooo 😫😖😭

Not in a room full of your classmates. 😞

He's so deep in denial that he'll never give his true wish to apologize and rekindle his friendship with Matakara and protect Matakara. 😞😭💔

I love how It's Always Toss Him Tuesday when this little shit is around. So gratifying. 😌👏👏👏

I love you so much Matakara and you deserve so much better but I LOVE YOUR DEVOTION!!!! 💖💖💖 GO SAVE UR MAN!!!!

YOUVE GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME MY GUY

YOUVE GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!!!

🤯😨

HE AINT SHIT!!!!!

🤬😤

I'M ON TEAM TEAL TERROR EVERYONE LOVES THIS PIECE OF SHIT FOR NO GODDAMN REASON (except Matakara he has a good reason!)

😫😭💔

Dude I had to get up and walk.

I was trying to be patient but he really is just the most annoying protagonist. I normally don't watch shows with protagonists like this but I sort of just want to watch it to see him get his ass beat now. 😒

Poor Matakara (the Real Protagonist) has to beat his boss to even have a shot at Arajin within the confines of their group's hierarchy!!! 😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔

My boy needs a fuckin break!!!!! 😭😞

WBSIDJSJDHSBSUSH

My instincts kicked in and I shouted "RUN!!!" before he stopped at the window and I remembered I hate this dumb fictional guy actually!

Please Let The Looney Tunes Violence Commence!!!! 🎺🎶🎺🎶🎻🎻🎻🎶🎺🎺🎺🎺🎵🥁💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

DAMN HE LOOKS SO COOL BUSTIN THROUGH THAT WINDOW JESUS!!!!

WHWJSBSJSJSBSH

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH 🤣🤣🤣🤣

GOOD FOR YOU MY GUY!!!!! YOU CAUGHT HIM THIS TIME!!!!

Idk if the other guys don't sense how fucking fruity he is or if they're so scared if him that they collectively let it slide.

FORMAL SPEECH WHEN HES SCARED LMAO that's precious but I still don't like him. 😤

SHES GONNA POISON HIM ONCE HE JOINS

GO GIRL GO

Well hey callingbhim brother may actually kick in his disgust reflex so she may be onto something there.

Aw dang thats unfortunate. 😕

NOOOOOOO MATAKARAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔

HE WAS HAVING A GOOD DAY THEN THIS!!!!!!

😭

Oh dang that arm around the shoulder!!!

👀

The only part I like about the ED is the boys in cute clothes and Matakara at the end with his little hand heart.

You know, now that I've decided that Matakara is the Actual Protagonist and I'm watching to see what happens to him I think I can make it!

😁

ONWARDS!!!! HYAH!!!!!!

🏇

(There ought to be a cowboy version of the horseback riding emoji dang)

[that-one-weeb-but-it-transformer]

Your head cannons are so fun and lovely! Can you do human/decepticons and forbidden love? Or maybe just Soundwave… only if you want to U.U

Again, I love your writing!

Forbidden Love w/ Soundwave

Notes: i see you are a Soundwave lover. So you shall get Soundwave headcannons only home slice also sorry this took so long

He knew it damn well you shouldn't of caught his eye while he was flying

But you did,

Galloping on your mighty stead after a heard of cattle

You were rugged unlike Soundwave who was sleek and slim and all-around form-fitting and precise

So he did what any normal human/robot would do.

Went to meet you

Human form a GO, like a damn pokemon battle

She smiled watching him come up to the farm and waved him down it was hot and you don't see too many people out and about

He said something but you didn't hear him and stopped him.

"There we are! Hear ya loud and clear now! My hearing aid was off and you're on my bad side!" She smiled, "What's a man like you looking for out here!?"

A man like him? Oh yeah. He looked a bit fancy, with black pants, casual dress shoes, and a Turtle neck on.

"I saw you working."

Y/n blinked, "Oh? Seen me railin in the big girls! You intrested in buyin a few? Sorry if you're one of those big corps people. We don't sell to big corps slaughter houses."

"Why?"

"Well they defile the animal. If you're gonna kill a cow your gonna do it with humanith. And ya gonna not waste it."

You're so stern.

Hes in love

He buys two cows from you, it was 500 dollars flat. He also bought some stuff to care for the cows like two months worth of feed and a trough werid enough.

You thought it was a one time thing; till you seen him again in town at an animal supply shop.

"Oh hey! How are the two babes doin?"

"Good."

Y/n smiled, "Real glad to hear that! Never did get you're name there sir."

"Soundwave."

What, "Oh you're a DJ?" Y/n questioned, "You look like a DJ! But thats super cool!"

Sure he can be DJ if you want him to be.

DJ soundwave in the house

See the real forbidden love here is when you say goodbye to him and load your stuff into your truck, but someone stops you-

It's Smokescreen, Smokescreen stops you

"Oh hey, guys!"

OH FUCK

Now Sounds has gotta get you.

If you're already on the Autobot's side what happens if you're in love with one of them?

So he makes it a point to get your number, you know. To ask about Cow care

Yes, he has a glass tank with cows inside, like a fish tank almost, but like...transformers size.

You touch soundwaves cows. YOU DIE

Runs into you here and there in town.

He really grows on you: even inviting him over for family dinner.

He's not very talkative which surprises your family, and you're two different people

He's allowed in your room, which is surprising

You're sister who's younger actually argues about it with their mom about it

which you gladly close the door too.

"Yeah feel free to explore."

Explored a little too far and found all you're nerd shit.

"HAH! haha...Brothers...ya know them..."

"What is it?"

"Nothing! Nothing! Just a movie poster."

"I've never been to a movie."

First date? Drive-in Movie theater to watch the original star wars movie

He literally changed his alt form to drive you to a damn drive in a movie theater.

"Y/n's got a new boyfriend!!!" "Miko!"

Now Wheeljack is teasing you 100%

"OH? Is that why you're not around anymore?"

You blow him off: and you're never around much anyway to really care about Decepticon names so "Soundwave" Doesn't even ring a bell.

"What's his name? What's his name? What's his name!"

"Ugh, I swear! You're just like my brother Jackie."

You don't tell him

And you and sound wave continue to go on dates happily

He even ends up kissing you: like a kiss you were expecting? Was a shy one, not the best one you'll ever have in your damn life span

You're actually laying in the back of your truck with him one night, and fell asleep as you were star gazing.

that Autobot pendant you actually got as a homie sexual gift from smokescreen: God ratchet wishes you never taught him that phrase

But he only adverts his gaze

Turns out, The Autobots have been tracking you because the kids have voiced seeing you get into an oddly specific purple car.

and you'll get caught

You're heartbroken at the end of it, all of a sudden Soundwave's the enemy.

"No? You just don't talk now!? Dude what is your problem."

So the Autobots wanna take you home: somewhere safe and in secret.

You're even mad at them: shit you even blow up at Bumblee your so pissed.

"And you, All of you! Tracked me! What the hell is your problem!?"

You hate robots, fuck robots, you go home angry more than anything

[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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyunjin.”

Don’t say it, girl! Don’t you dare!

“It’s...it’s not you.”

You put your hand on your heart. 

“It’s me.”

Oh, Jesus.

Your eyes raised to his own, wide and glistening. 

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

Face it, ____. You’re done for.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were almost delighted to let Hwang Hyunjin go.

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

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

It was partly you as well.

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

bitch have you done it?

CHRIS THE PISS :

helloooooo??

CHRIS THE PISS :

hoe answer the phone i’m dying!! 

CHRIS THE PISS :

or prolly hyunjin at this moment lmaooo

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

unless this is hyunjin and u killed her FUCK

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

YOU :

chan i will kill u :)

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

that was ur girl putting words in my mouth 

YOU:

omfg chan STFUUU i’m coming

CHRIS THE PISS :

PLS HYUNJIN I SWEAR UR SEXC

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

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

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

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

You cursed at the man who welcomed you.

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

“Sad it didn’t kill you off, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, we’re getting Indian.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____?” 

“No, you’re not having any of mine.”

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

Your mouth dropped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s do it, Chan.”

His hand went limp in your hold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had all the time in the world for this.

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

You wanted this as much as he did. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like your best friend promised.

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

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

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

You blinked. 

Imagine what he could have done with his dick.

“____?”

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

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

Pride washed over his features. “Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He read your every plea. 

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

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

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

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

Nodding, it was all the signal he needed.

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

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

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

Your best friend could see right through you anyway. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Hyuck.” 

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

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

YOU WOKE UP WITH CHAN ALREADY GONE.

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS: 

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

CHRIS THE PISS:

cause im sure asf u can’t walk rn 

You rolled your eyes until it hurt. Stupid prick.

YOU:

i haven’t gotten out of bed actually 

CHRIS THE PISS:

oh damn

CHRIS THE PISS:

i PARALYSED u??

CHRIS THE PISS:

why am i so powerful 

“This asshole,” you muttered. 

YOU:

STFUU COCKY MF

CHRIS THE PISS: 

It’s ok you’ll cute in a wheelchair

YOU:

?!?!?!?!!?!

CHRIS THE PISS:

but tell me 

CHRIS THE PISS:

how good was it

This had you pausing. 

CHRIS THE PISS:

outta ten

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

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

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

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

Again, the situation here was different.

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

YOU:

2/10 :)

You waited for his text.

However, you did not receive it.

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

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

“Now I know you’re lying!”

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

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

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

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

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

God, you could almost feel your nose growing.

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

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

“Shut up, Chan.”

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

“Try me, buddy,” you jeered.

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

“A Hyunjin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did change your life.

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

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

Hopefully tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jisung!”

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

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

“Boo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The joy was not returned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He narrowed his eyes. “Share.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Permission to punch him in the face?” 

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

“Fuck.”

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

You played with his curls. “How angry?”

He held onto you tighter. “9/10.”

That certainly made you do a double take. 

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

Of course, because you were his closest friend.

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

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

Suddenly, a very pleasing idea came to mind. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come here, then,” he guttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The image had you remembering your Lord and Saviour. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OF COURSE YOU WERE GOING TO THAT PARTY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did you even come here? 

You instantly soured at the thought.

Still, you could not help pondering further.

You should have stayed home. With him.

You groaned out loud.

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

Then were you feeling miserable?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lust. Pure lust swirling in his eyes. 

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

“Oh my God!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud this time. 

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

Were you really just friends? 

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

But...to be more?

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

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

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

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

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

There was a reason he rated it 9/10.

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

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

Stop worrying. Chan is your best friend.

You turned the knob.

Your best friend.

Pushed the door open. Stepped inside.

Right?

“Back so soon?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I know Chan practically adores you.

The memory brought chills all over you again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because maybe she liked Jisung all along.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like you!”

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

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

I like you too.

Well, shit. There it was.

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

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

You had finally told him of your feelings. 

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

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

God, you were such a bitch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cum for me, baby.”

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

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

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

All for him. All. For him.

Your best friend’s smile was positively wicked.

“I will completely ruin you, ____.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, Chan. Please.”

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

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

“Donghyuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

Bang Chan, your very best friend. 

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

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

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

“Cum for me, ____.”

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

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

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

You decided to break the silence first. 

“I’m sorry for saying his name.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chan!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

“Chan?”

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

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

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

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

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

He parted his mouth. 

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

You blinked. 

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

“Yes.”

Your best friend paused. 

Turned, ever so slowly, towards you. 

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[littlefreya]

Velvet Chains

Summary: For a generous fee, August Walker is yours. A man devout to pleasure, who will worship you for an entire night and make sure your first time is more than memorable. 

Promot:  

 A thought - August as a gigolo who specializes in deflowering. 👌

Pairing: Soft! August Walker x Virgin Reader.  

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: 18+. August Walker as a sex-worker, sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, a depiction of bodily fluids, soft!August themes, a tinge of angst and August’s monster c... 

A/N: When I received this prompt, I didn’t think I can actually do it justice, but it was 3am and I started dabbling around. Then in the morning, I took another look at it, and this little drabble turned into a one-shot. I hope you’ll like it, I hope I did well. Many thanks to @agniavateira​ my muse who beta’d my story. 

Please give feedback and reblog if you enjoyed reading. 🖤 DM if you want to be added to my tag squad. 

Title: Velvet Chains

They were all little flowers to him, fresh peonies and flushed roses. Young or mature, it never mattered as long as they were still oh so pure. Undefiled, succulent flesh. Kissed by dew and wrapped by the last remaining petals of their innocence.

All for him to willfully pluck.

Sprayed with notes of tobacco, and boozy fragrance of rum - August Walker was the top-tier kind of service, a man to die for with his three-piece suits and shiny leather shoes. At one point he didn’t even need to self-promote; they came to him, all doe-eyed and coy, willing to pay as much as it takes to have him breach through the sealed gates of their garden.   

The rules were quite simple: Cash in advance and always wear protection; other than that anything goes. August liked to see himself as a procurer of fantasies rather than a male prostitute. For a generous fee of $1500, his girls earned themselves a night they never forgot. Whether it began with a dinner at the most outrageous restaurant, a masked ball at a billionaire’s mansion, or an intimate evening with his homemade cooking at a cosy sublet. 

It was up to him to choose the experience for the ladies after thoroughly assessing and profiling each client. He was never wrong; after all, it was his job to study women, both mentally and physically. 

“I know what you need,” he would murmur as he kissed down their navel and swept between their shaky thighs. And in his grip they indeed laughed, cried, and came undone so many times over, reaching out to grasp heaven around his unapologetically huge cock.  

Until you changed everything. 

August couldn’t quite crack you; while he enjoyed, savoured, and conquered every woman he had, it was you who seemed to have more power over him than he did over you. The quiet abyss in your eyes reeled him in like an unfortunate, foolish fish teetering on a hook. Whatever mysteries that mind of yours held, he wanted to pry it open with his fingers and brush them through the parchments of your soul. 

He desired you more than just the flesh; he wanted to be deeper in you than he ever was in any other woman. 

‘Who are you?’

Shivering in his presence, it was crystal clear that you weren’t immune to his spells; yet you didn’t seem impressed by the theatrics or his suave appearance. As if you saw right through him, and knew it was all but a spectacle.  

Wanting everyone to witness your ‘claiming’, he took you to the dimly-lit roof of his private apartment and laid you on a blanket beneath the beaming stars. When his lips touched yours while slowly ridding himself of his clothes, August felt like he could tell you his most kept secrets though he didn’t want to. 

This is not how it worked. Not for him. 

Sorrounded by the fairy tea-lights that adorned the intimate rooftope, you flinched as he began undressing you, and trembled so vehemently once completely bare that all he wanted was to embrace you in his big arms. And he did so, collecting you against the dark fur of his chest, the heat of his body provided shelter from the cold October breeze.

“Beautiful,” he whispered sincerely and allowed his hands to roam the tender map of your body. Likely, he would never see you again, so he wanted to remember every curve, dimple, and scar; he needed your moans imprinted in the museum of his mind. 

The same desperate, breathless pleas only a virgin would make, purer than pure.

Breathing in shudders, you laid down beneath him with your legs spread out. Your little untouched slit displayed to his hungering gaze, asking to be reshaped by his intrustment. August was never one to lose control, but your entire existence has made him question every decision and in a moment of frivolousity, he lost himself completely and broke the most forbidden rule: 

He entered you bare. 

Painfully large and hot as flaming iron, his rigid cock tore through your maidenhood and delved into your velvety pit, desperately searching for the engulfing shelter that was your womb. Weeps of pain rained down your lips; he was too big, and he didn’t slow down. He unwrapped you, tearing your rose petals one by one, sinking in until you could have sworn he was infused between your lungs. 

Overwhelmed by the raw sensation of your wet flesh engulfing him, August raked his arm around the small of your back and held your body against his, forcing you to spread wider, to grant him the infinite access he demanded.

“Look at me kitten,” he murmured in a half-breathless, half-soothing voice and showered hasty butterfly kisses across your forehead, “I’m inside you. It’s done, now let me please you.”

He seared your body, your sensitive entrance pulsating with a twinge of grieving anger around his veiny cock, your walls squeezing, fighting off his lewd intrusion. While you anticipated the pain, the initial shock was too much to bear. 

“I don’t think I can take you,” you retorted and swallowed hard, trying not to cry as he swelled and flinched inside you further more.

August reached a hand to your jaw and caged it between his strong fingers. Not saying a word, he stared intensely into your eyes. Smoke and broken mirrors shadowed his glare. In your daze, you swore you could see his reveries and hear him whisper without moving his lips. 

The barriers of your guarded castle were in ruins, and so was your self-preservation. Fully submitting, you allowed him to take you beneath the shimmering, black silks of midnight. 

August was both gentle and rough as he rode between your thighs, his heavy body surrounding you completely. His entity seeped through your lungs and pores, his bewhiskered mouth left sloppy, ticklish kisses and chanted a hymn of pleasure against your neck. 

For a slight moment, you wondered if he was this passionate with all of his customers. But all thoughts died at the moment his crown slammed into the wall of your womb, and the entirety of your existence was flooded with both the tremors of sudden pleasure and satisfying pain. 

You wanted more, you wanted to be complete. To be completely his.

“Oh god, yes!” You cried for him, clawing your nails at the taut muscles of his back.

Grunting, he plunged into you, harder with every pull and deeper with every thrust. He sought for heaven between your legs and as inexperienced and naive as you were, you followed your instincts and complied to his arousal. Bucking your hips, you yielded to meet the jerk of his hips - your rhythm a savage mess, your demeanour that of a virgin-whore. 

“Good girl, my good girl,” August praised, thrilled of the shift in you, and by the helpless, glossy gaze and gaping mouth as you moaned and begged. Your freshly open cunt clung to his invasion with its growing tightness. Holding onto him the way the moon is bound to earth.

Control was gradually lost over your own bodies, enslaved to something stronger than your wills and wits. It was as if you became vessels to haunting spirits that made you slam into one another, lost in a sweaty, carnal trance until a flush of sudden rapture broke between your legs the way raging waves break upon a ship lost at sea, consuming it completely.

Like a dauntless sailor, August followed you into the depths of euphoria. Jumping to his knees, he hauled you by the waist and slammed you against him, needing to be balls-deep within you. With a loud shout, he came undone, astonished by the raw, unbridled sensation of releasing himself inside another person.

You both shuddered in shock as his thick cum bathed your womb in three, warm gushes. 

‘Oh, August, what have you done?’

Spent, he nearly collapsed on top of you, holding his hands flat to the side of your head. He took a deep breath before pulling out from your hurting hole and moving to lie by your side. The pink mixture of your essence trickled between your simmering lips just the way it coated his still-swollen cock. Glancing down upon it he felt an odd notion of triumph, more than the usual complacent feeling usually evoked with his clientele. 

“Don’t worry, I am clean.” He promised. 

In a way, you were his first as well.

Pulling you against him, he nuzzled your neck and hummed lowly, “I don’t imagine you could give me anything.”

Still trying to land back on solid ground, you said nothing. Words didn’t make it, not through your chest nor your head. You basked within the moment, trying to memorise every vibration that flowed through your veins as the glow became dimmer with every passing minute.

Limbs entangled, he decorated your shoulder-blade with honey-sweet kisses while your spine attached to his hairy chest. He watched you quietly, admiring you completely until the two of you fell into a dreamless sleep under the guarding sky. 

Come morning, August was awakened by the sounds of the raging street below. The scent of toxic vapours hung heavy in the air and his face curled at the sounds of the beeping horns. For a moment, he forgot where he was but then you were the first thing on his mind. Even though he knew the deal was for one night only, something in him itched for a generous ‘on-the-house’ lazy morning sex.

As he rolled to lie on top of you, his chest felt abruptly empty. He was met with nothing but the defiled blanket.

You were gone.   

Though the scent of your body, your sweat, and viscous fluids were still stuck to his skin, your memory a sheer piece of silk carried away by the cruel wind. The weight of a thousand stones dropped in August’s gut and he flipped onto his back once more and stared at the cloudy sky. 

It resonated in him that this was all that it was, and he would never find a girl like you again.     

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

*I don’t own August Walker or the Mission: Impossible Franchise

[angelicyoongie]

Out of the Woods (III)

— pairing: wolf hybrid namjoon x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, smut — word count: 11K — warnings: mentions of past abuse, explicit sexual content! — summary: Promising Jihyo that you were going to stay away from your writing for one weekend had been easy in theory, but much harder to actually do once you reached the little cabin the woods. To make matters worse, the only thing that rivals your inability to keep promises is your terrible luck – and after a particularly bad choice leads you to get lost in the mountains, you suppose that it's only karma that you end up face to face with a wolf that looks ready to rip your throat out.

Part I / II / III

Namjoon startles with a low growl at the knock at the door, ears twisting back as it opens to reveal the nurse alongside someone you haven’t seen before. “Mr. Kim, Miss Y/n, meet Yeonjun. He’s our hybrid shelter contact, and he has some information to share with you regarding Mr. Kim’s owner. I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll be back shortly,” You give the nurse a small nod before she leaves, your attention straying back to the blue-haired man standing just inside the door.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Yeonjun says, a warm smile on his lips. The wolf hybrid’s growl grows louder as Yeonjun’s eyes find yours, Namjoon bristling under your touch. “Don’t worry Mr. Kim, I’ll stay right here,” Yeonjun leans back against the wall, his posture relaxed and open despite the snarl on Namjoon’s lips. You squeeze his wrist in warning, begging him to calm down. You have no clue what Yeonjun is here for, but you don’t want Namjoon to ruin his chances of a good home by making a bad first impression. Namjoon’s growl stutters at your tight grip, and Yeonjun looks amused as the wolf hybrid forces himself to relax against the pillows behind his back. Namjoon settles for glaring at him instead, and you take that as a small win.

“Sorry, you had something to tell us?” You say.

“I do,” Yeonjun ruffles through the folder in his hand, eyes squinting slightly as he reads off the information. “It says here that the legal owner of Kim Namjoon, Mr. Kim Deok-ho, filed a missing hybrid report five years ago. Is that correct?” Namjoon offers a stiff nod, his jaw clenched tightly at the sound of his owner’s name. Your eyes grow wide at the new information. Five years? Namjoon was by himself for that long?

”It appears that Kim Deok-ho passed away a year after the report, due to a sudden heart attack. Since he had no relatives and has not left your ownership to someone else, you’re currently an ownerless hybrid.” You let out a shaky breath as Namjoon’s ears spring up at the information, his tail doing a half-hearted wag beneath the covers. “Based on the nurse’s reports of the old scars and marks on your arms and chest, we have reason to believe that mistreatment and abuse occurred during the ownership, and so even if someone from Kim Deok-ho’s past step forward in an attempt to claim you, it will be denied.” You slump back in your chair, desperately blinking away the tears blurring your vision. Thank god. At least he’ll never have to go back there.

”I take it that you agree with those observations?” Yeonjun gives a small smile at the relieved whimper Namjoon lets out, the wolf hybrid’s raspy yes filling the small room. Namjoon flips his hand over to grasp yours, his long fingers intertwining delicately with your own.

“Good, we’re on the same page then. The next thing we need to settle is what’s going to happen moving forward,” Yeonjun flicks over to a new page, pen hovering over the paper as he looks up at both of you. “A newly formed pack bond isn’t hard to notice when you know what to look for. I take it that you have no interest in going to the shelter?”

Namjoon brings your hand up to his chest; shaking his head as he says, “Stay with Y/n. Please.”

Yeonjun’s questioning gaze flickers over to you, and you quickly scramble out an agreement. “Namjoon can stay with me for as long as he wants,” You try your best to suppress a chuckle as Namjoon’s tail start wagging at your words, a faint blush blooming in his cheeks at the heavy thuds against the bed.

“Great!” Yeonjun smiles as he fills out his forms, “We need to do some standard background checks and we have some protocols to follow, but I don’t think there will be any issues. Just fill out this form and give it to the nurse later, and I’ll get the process started.” He places a pen and paper down on the small table near the door, giving the nurse a nod as she pokes her head in.

“We’re all done, just let me know when the form is ready,” He gives you and Namjoon a quick wave before he slips out of the door.

“Well then, I have some news too,” The nurse says. “Thankfully the operation went well, and Mr. Kim’s recovery should be fairly smooth. He’ll need to stay here for a few more days for observation as he did lose a lot of blood, but we don’t think there will be any issues,” She smiles.

“Now, since hybrids heal much faster than regular humans, we’ll have to do a few more check-ups than normal just to make sure you don’t wear the cast for too long. You’ll likely be able to remove the cast after three weeks, and then keep a brace on for a few more after that until you’re back to normal. You will be provided with a pair of crutches, but you’re stuck with bed rest for the first week to make sure you’re not putting too much pressure on your injury.” You can feel your back ache at the thought of having to spend a few weeks sleeping at the couch until you can get hold of another bed, but it’s for sure worth it if it means Namjoon will recover well.

“I think that should be all, do you have any questions?” You shake your head, a smile curling at your lips as the wolf hybrid copies your movement.

“That’s good then, I’ll leave you two be for now.” The nurse bids you both goodbye with a nod, the room falling into a sudden silence as she closes the door behind her. Namjoon flashes you a dopy smile as you turn your attention back to him. The wolf hybrid clutches your hand tightly to his chest as he shifts his upper body as close to your chair as possible, his warm brown eyes never straying from your face.

“Before I sign the papers, I just want to be sure that you’re really okay with staying with me. I promise I’ll do my best to take care of you, but Yeonjun might have some foster homes that are better suited for your recovery. My apartment is pretty small,” You grimace. You really aren’t lying when it comes to your home. Sure, you might have two bedrooms, but one of them is hardly even big enough to be a closet. It will be a tight squeeze with Namjoon while he’s injured, but you’ll manage as long as the wolf hybrid is certain.

“It’s .. okay. Want to stay .. with you,” Namjoon frowns as he works to find his words, his gaze turning a little desperate as if he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he takes too long.

“Of course. I’ll bring you home as soon as you can be discharged,” You squeeze his hand comfortingly. You can’t help but feel a little flutter of excitement at the thought of bringing him back to your apartment. “I should go fill out the form then,” You smile. Somehow, you think Namjoon will fit right in.

“Careful,” You wince as Namjoon almost stumbles into a wall, the wolf hybrid’s grip tightening around your shoulders as you try your best to hold him up. If there’s anything you’ve learned over the last couple of days in the hospital, it’s that Namjoon is stubborn. And apparently, that stubbornness is only amplified when it comes to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to use the crutches?” You ask as you try to fish up your keys from your pocket, the wolf hybrid’s tired breaths spilling across your neck.

“No crutches. Only need you,” Namjoon grumbles. You blame your stuttering heartbeat on the exhaustion you feel after practically carrying Namjoon from the hospital to your car, and then from your car to your apartment complex. Thank god you have an elevator, otherwise you have no idea how you would manage to get him up to the eight floor.

You let out a sigh of relief as you get your keys out, quickly shoving them into the lock to open the door. Namjoon’s ears spring up at the sight, his tail beginning to move behind his back at the pleasant smells that hit his sensitive nose. Everything smells like you, like warmth and comfort, and there’s nothing the wolf hybrid wants to do more than add his own scent to the mix, to make sure that others know that you’re taken. He hasn’t even been able to properly scent you since the woods, and the faint touches he’s been able to leave on your skin isn’t enough.

You help Namjoon step out of his shoes, carefully leading him down the narrow hallway of your apartment. “Here’s the second bedroom,” You nod to the first door you pass, “That’s my bedroom, and the last door on the right is the bathroom. The rest is an open concept living room and kitchen, as you can see.” Namjoon’s golden eyes carefully scan over your moderately sized apartment, his nose wrinkling as he picks up a scent he hadn’t noticed near the entrance.

“Dog?” Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he tries to hobble over to the couch. It takes you a second to catch on to what he said, the image of Sana and Jihyo cuddling on your couch a week back flashing in your mind as you struggle to hold him back.

“You’re supposed to head straight to bed,” You say, curling your fingers deeper into Namjoon’s side as he tries to wriggle out of your hold. “Namjoon, please,” You plead as the strain in your back begins to throb, your body definitely not made for almost carrying a fit wolf hybrid for an extended period of time.

Namjoon stops struggling at the tired tone in your voice, and you take the low whine that falls from his lips as an apology. You catch him throwing a narrowed look at the couch as he lets you lead him to your bedroom, and you make a mental note to maybe try to air the room out before he needs to use the bathroom. You didn’t even realize Sana’s scent would linger that long, but then again, she and Jihyo had spent all day glued to your couch.

“Here we go,” You carefully lower Namjoon down on your bed, helping him get situated and comfortable before propping his leg up with a few pillows. You sink down on the edge of the bed, a frown tugging at your lips as you notice how rough and threadbare the material of his clothes are. The only clothes Namjoon have are the ones he got from the hospital, but they’re obviously far from new. You were hoping to get him more situated before leaving him alone, but there’s no way you’re going to let him use clothes that seem like they might unravel at any moment when you have the funds to get him soft and better-fitting clothes.

“Would you be okay if I head out for a bit? I need to get–” Namjoon cuts you off with a pained whine, his hand closing firmly around yours as he says, “Please don’t go.” The wolf hybrid’s silver ears are flat against his head, another distressed noise rumbling out of his chest as he tries to tug you closer on the bed.

“It’s okay, I promise I won’t leave!” You say, your heart squeezing painfully at the panicked expression on Namjoon’s face. It’s too reminiscent of how he looked when you left him out in the woods, and that’s something you never want to revisit.

“We can order you some new clothes online and get them delivered here tomorrow! I’ll stay here for as long as you need me to. Is that alright with you?” Namjoon searches your gaze for a few seconds before he seems to find what he's looking for, the tension in his shoulders lessening as he rasps out a low thank you. “It's nothing to thank me for, it’s the least I can do,” You give his hand a soft squeeze.

“I’ll go make some dinner, you need to take your pain medication soon,” You can see the doubt in the wolf hybrid’s eyes, his hold tightening ever so slightly around your hand. “How about I leave the door open? You’ll be able to see me the entire time I’m cooking,” You say. It truly breaks your heart that Namjoon is so scared that you might abandon him, but can you really blame him? His first owner was abusive, and when he finally found someone – when he found you – who he felt strongly enough about to consider his pack, you had left him.

“Yeah,” Namjoon nods, his slender fingers slowly untangling from yours. The wolf hybrid’s eyes widens as you lean closer to fluff up the pillows behind his head, his tail doing a couple of surprised thuds against the mattress at the close proximity.

“Let me know if you need anything,” You smile. You can feel Namjoon’s gaze following your every movement as you cook an easy dinner, the position of your bed giving him a vantage point of both the couch and the kitchen behind it. Normally, being watched so intently would’ve made you feel a little uncomfortable, but with Namjoon, it almost feels reassuring to know the wolf hybrid isn’t letting you out of his sight. You don’t live in a bad part of town by any means, but it gives you that little extra ounce of protection you wasn’t even aware that you were craving.

“What about this one?” You only get a non-committal sound in response, and you shake your head with an amused huff as you add the sweater to your cart. Since all of Namjoon’s focus was on his food during dinner, it seems that he now refuses to look at anything that isn’t you, so that doesn’t leave you much choice but to pick out most of his clothes on your own. You had tried to keep a little distance between your bodies on your bed to make sure you couldn’t accidentally hurt him, but the wolf hybrid had gently tugged you closer with a displeased growl, not happy until your side was flush against his. You bite down harshly on your lip as Namjoon’s rough fingertips glide over the delicate skin on your wrist, the wolf hybrid seemingly more interesting in mapping out every inch of your arm, rather than what you’re trying to show him on the screen. You end up picking out some loose clothing, something Namjoon hopefully will like after not wearing clothes for years. You can tell he’s uncomfortable in the stiff hospital clothes, especially since the outfit seems to be a size or two too small. You do a last scan over your cart, happy with the assortment of soft earth tones you’ve picked out. Namjoon doesn’t strike you as a hybrid that would wear something overtly flashy, but if that’s something he wants to later, you’ll be more than happy to update his wardrobe.

“Okay, done! It should be here by tomorrow afternoon,” Namjoon perks up as you close the laptop in your lap, the wolf hybrid’s brown eyes flickering up to meet yours. You feel your breath getting caught in your throat as you take in how softhe looks, and you find yourself reaching out to brush Namjoon’s silver hair away from his lashes before you can stop yourself. Namjoon lets out a surprised rush of air at the contact, the warmth in his eyes almost scorching as he slowly moves his gaze around your face, taking the chance to drink in every detail of it. The wolf hybrid shifts his weight, and the loud creak of your bed is enough to make you hastily pull back, cheeks flushed as you stutter out a, “I-I uh, should probably get the couch ready.”

“Couch?” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Yeah, you’re taking the bed so I need somewhere to sleep too,” You say.

“Why? Just sleep .. with me,” The wolf hybrid frowns. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it aside from sleeping, you have done it before out in the woods after all, but your stomach flutters at the words before you can reel yourself in, warmth slowly climbing up the back of your neck.

“I can’t do that Namjoon,” You mentally pat yourself on the back for how steady your voice sounds, “The woods were different. We .. we can’t do that here.” Despite feeling like you might trust Namjoon with your life if the situation ever calls for it, you don’t actually know him. The past days in the hospital have been filled with tests and interviews with Yeonjun, and so you haven’t truly had the chance to really talk to the wolf hybrid yet. You have to at least be something akin to friends before you’re comfortable sleeping next to him.

“Oh,” The disappointment in Namjoon’s voice is obvious, his expression almost turning a little shameful as his ears begin to droop. “I’m sorry,” He mutters.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? You’ve been shifted for a long time, so it’s only natural that some things are a little different between human and animal,” Namjoon nods, but there’s something in his expression that looks a little closed off now – more hesitant. “Is there anything you need before I go to bed? Anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?” The wolf hybrid shifts his gaze around your room, pink lips parting and closing as if there’s something he can’t quite make up his mind to ask for.

“Can I .. scent you?” Namjoon murmurs. One of your childhood friends had a hybrid, a sweet little cat hybrid that always used to scent you when you came over after school. You learned then that scenting helps hybrids to calm down and feel more comfortable around new people and places faster, which lessened the shock when you first met Sana all those years ago, and it’s also why there’s not an ounce of hesitation in your voice as you say, “Of course.” The wolf hybrid’s head attention snaps back to you so fast you’re almost a little worried for his neck.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks, his warm eyes searching your face.

“I am. It’ll help you settle in here faster, right? So I really don’t mind,” You smile. Namjoon nods, pink lips pressed into a firm line as he gently takes a hold of your hand. He brings it up slowly to his face, a look of deep concentration in his eyes as he begins to rub his cheek against your wrist, making sure that he covers every visible inch of skin with his scent. Namjoon’s hold loosens ever so slightly, but just as you think the wolf hybrid is done, he leans down to swipe his tongue over your skin, leaving behind a more permanent scent mark. You bite down harshly on your lips, desperate to stifle the surprised sound bubbling up the back of your throat. The hybrids you had met before never did this during scenting. Namjoon’s ears begin to perk up the more his scent lingers on you, a content noise rumbling in his chest they begin to properly mix. Maybe it’s just a wolf thing, you decide. After all, he had scented you out in the woods in the same fashion before, so it's likely just something tied to his species that you weren’t familiar with. You allow Namjoon to switch out your hands, letting the wolf hybrid scent both of them to his heart’s content. He looks visibly more relaxed as he places your hand back in your lap, his tail beating against the bed in a steady rhythm.

“Better?” You ask.

“Better,” Namjoon confirms, a soft smile on his lips as he shifts back against the pillows. You take that as your cue to get ready for bed yourself, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

“Can .. door stay open?” Namjoon asks as you scoot of the bed, his eyes flickering hesitantly between you and the living room.

“It can.”

As you settle down into your freshly made couch, you can help but feel soothed at the sounds of the wolf hybrid getting comfortable in your bed. Your apartment suddenly feels a little warmer, a little more lived in, with the added noise of another person. You stare up at the dark ceiling with a smile, and the pleasant fluttering in your stomach tells you that if Namjoon decides to stay, your apartment might actually begin to feel like a home.

“Did you pick a movie?” You take a seat next to Namjoon on the couch, placing the popcorn bowl careful down between the two of you. The wolf hybrid nods at the screen, one of the newer blockbuster films already chosen and ready to be played. With his broken leg, there really isn’t much for Namjoon to do except watch movies or read, but you thankfully have a wall of books, and unlimited streaming services for him to use. The first two days of having Namjoon in your apartment were more awkward than you had expected. But then again, maybe it should have been weirder if it hadn’t, considering you had to help someone you barely know clean up and use the bathroom. It had been a learning curve to say the least; your cheeks stained a permanent pink until you managed to work out a good system. Namjoon’s new clothes had arrived quickly as well, and the wolf hybrid seemed pleased at the colours and the loose fit of the items you had chosen. You praised your own choices too; the baggy pants and slightly oversized shirts made helping him dress and undress a lot easier.

Though, there is one thing you haven’t been able to work out quite yet. Namjoon. Despite the wolf hybrid’s initial distrust of the crutches, he seems to have really taken to them now, especially once he realized that using them meant he could just trail after you himself without you having to struggle holding him up around the apartment. It is cute that Namjoon has been glued to your side ever since you arrived at your apartment, but with how he’s straining himself to hobble over to the front door every hour despite the doctor’s request of him not getting out of bed, it’s starting to worry you. The behaviour reminds you of your time spent with him the woods, and how he would constantly scout the area you travelled through for danger. You need Namjoon to relax and heal, but it’s been difficult, especially since the hybrid hasn’t said much outside of yes and no for the last four days. Before you left the hospital, the hybrid doctor you had spoken with had made it very clear that it was important to engage Namjoon in conversation, as his speech would only improve the more he used it. It’s beginning to feel more and more like you’ve just brought home a guard dog and not a person, and it makes your chest uncomfortably tight to think that Namjoon might not feel safe enough in your home to let his instincts take the back seat and just be.

You’re startled out of your thoughts as you suddenly hear a howling laughter coming from the hallway. You know it’s just some neighbours finally getting home after work, but Namjoon stiffens at the noise, ears perked in the direction of your door. It’s obvious that the wolf hybrid has the urge to protect, one hand already reaching for his crutches – so you just hope you’ve read the signs right when you hastily grab Namjoon’s hand, tugging it into your lap to cover it with your own. Namjoon freezes, his jaw clenched tightly as he slowly moves his eyes from the screen to your intertwined hands.

“Do you mind? It seems like this part is going to be a little scary,” You gesture to the action scene playing out on the TV, plastering on your best sheepish smile as you hold the wolf hybrid’s hand tighter. You feel his fingers twitch in your hold as another round of loud laughter rings out in the hallway, but to your surprise, Namjoon only takes a deep breath before he settles back against the couch. He flips your hand, easily entangling his fingers with yours as his bright eyes travel back to the screen. For what feels like the first time in four days, you can sense Namjoon finally letting his shoulders drop, his tail doing a half-hearted wag against the couch as he relaxes. The rough fingertips grazing your knuckles at random intervals keeps you distracted enough that you have no clue what the movie you just watched was really about, your hand tingling with the sensation of Namjoon’s careful touches.

As the end credits begin to roll, you turn on the couch, facing the wolf hybrid more directly as you say, “Namjoon, are you okay? You’ve just seemed a little tense and closed off these last days. I just want to make sure that I’m not doing anything that’s making you feel uncomfortable.”

“Not you, just me,” Namjoon rasps, his lips pressing into a firm line, “Don’t want to be .. too much.”

“Too much?” You frown.

“Old owner wanted me to be quiet. No scenting .. Said it wasn’t natural,” Namjoon’s ears fall flat against his head. “Couldn’t help it, was too young. So owner punished me.” The wolf hybrid’s eyes briefly flicker up to meet yours, the usual warmth hardened and cold and sad as he lowers his head as says, “Sorry. You can punish too.”

“Namjoon,” You whisper, swallowing harshly around the lump in your throat. You can feel your chest crack, eyes growing blurry as you think of a younger Namjoon. You know that all hybrids need psychical contact to stay happy and healthy, and that it’s especially important for younger hybrids to make sure that they learn about their instincts and needs. Your childhood friend’s hybrid was never denied pets or cuddles, the cat hybrid practically always glued to someone’s side because anything else would’ve been inhumane. The fact that Namjoon was abused for wanting something as harmless as a hug, or a scratch behind his ears makes you want to bring his owner back to life just so that you can make sure he receives the proper punishment for his crimes. Death seems too easy of a way out of the horrible things he did.

“I will never do that to you. You never have to worry about being too much of anything. Wanting someone to talk to and touch is completely natural,” You hesitantly bring a hand up to cup Namjoon’s cheek, lifting his head enough to meet his gaze. Your fear of Namjoon not wanting your touch flies out the window the moment the wolf hybrid leans his whole head into your palm, nuzzling his cheek against your hand as the bushy tail behind his back picks up speed at the contact. It dawns on you then, that after the first night he scented you, Namjoon had withdrawn completely. Him following you around and checking the door was probably the best thing he could to do to feel close to you while still keeping his distance – because that was what he had been forced to adapt to. You softly clear your throat, keeping your voice as level as possible as you give him a gentle smile and say, “If there’s something you want, you just have to ask. I promise I’ll do my best to make it happen for you.”

Namjoon angles his head in your palm, soft lips brushing over your wrist as he murmurs a quiet thank you into your skin. “Can I … ask you something else?” You can’t help the way your heart flips as Namjoon tries to follow the hand you remove from his cheek, the wolf hybrid letting out a perturbed whine.

“Sure,” He rasps, clutching your intertwined fingers tighter to make sure you won’t remove them too.

“How did you get caught in the trap?” You wince as your eyes drift to Namjoon’s cast. Jihyo had made some calls while you were with Namjoon in the hospital, and it had turned out that the old owners of the cabin had left out multiple bear traps many years ago. It had been so long that they had forgotten they were even there. You're honestly surprised that the trap still worked considering how rusted and old it had looked clamped around Namjoon’s leg, but then again the wolf hybrid is big when’s he’s shifted. Not the same as a full-grown bear of course, but his weight was obviously enough to set it off.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” Namjoon says. The dejected look on his face feels like someone has punched you straight in your stomach as he mutters, “Was distracted. Sad.” Because of you. ”Was going to leave when the trap stopped me,” Namjoon frowns. That explains why it took so long to find him, and why he had moved so far from where you first met him. If it hadn’t been for the trap, you likely never would’ve seen Namjoon again.

The wolf hybrid’s face is pinched as he tries to formulate the sentence in his head, the words a little jumbled but clear enough that you understand what he’s trying to say, ”Trap hurt, but you came back. So pain is okay.” For all the things you want to say, the only thing that comes out is just a saddened, “I’m sorry.”

Namjoon shakes his head. The wolf hybrid’s golden brown eyes are warmwarmwarm, his voice dripping with honeyed content as he says, “Found you, so everything’s okay now. Found my pack.” Your body moves on instinct as you shift closer, untangling your hand from Namjoon’s to gently wrap them around his shoulders. The position is a little awkward, but you couldn’t care less about the weird twist in your lower back as the wolf hybrid collapses into your embrace with a low whine, his face tucked securely into your neck. The soft fur of Namjoon's ears brush against your chin as he inhales your scent, a shaky breath escaping his lips as your calming scent washes over him. He doesn’t scent you like you expected him to; instead, he just seems happy to be this close to you, his breath spilling across your neck as he tries to press himself even closer.

“Yeah,” You breathe. It seems you both have.

It’s almost too easy to grow attached to Namjoon. The last two weeks since you brought Namjoon home has passed without a hitch, the wolf hybrid finally having settled properly into your apartment. His speech has improved drastically since you talked that night, and he’s been doing better and better for each day as he makes an effort to ask about your life, or your work. With the way Namjoon’s face lit up at the mention of your profession, it felt like another puzzle piece was falling snuggly into place. You’ve never had someone be so interested and intrigued by your writing before, but then again, you’ve never met someone who devours books in the same way that Namjoon does either. The wolf hybrid breezes through a book in only a couple of days, and the sound of paper being turned alongside with Namjoon’s low grumbles as he finds something interesting has become your new white noise as you work. You were certain you wouldn’t be able to write with someone else in the apartment, let alone the same room, but Namjoon blends so seamlessly into your life that it’s far from an issue.

But, with attachment, also comes fear. You call Jihyo on your way to the grocery store, your mind busy and your heart even heavier as you make your way through the spring rain. Like the sky, you pour out all of the insecurities and worries you’ve kept bottled up, Jihyo only spurring your rambling on with a few encouraging noises.

“I’m scared,” You admit. “Is it weird how fast we’re moving? The more I get to know him the more it feels like he was always supposed to be there.” Jihyo lets out a low hum as she thinks.

“I don’t think so Y/n. Sometimes you just find people you click with, there’s nothing wrong with that. And it’s not like you’ve only been hanging out for an hour every now and then, you’ve been living together for two weeks. It’s understandable that you would grow close a little quicker than normal.”

“But that’s not all, is it?” Jihyo adds, as you keep silent.

“No .. I just don’t want him to regret anything. I’m the first nice human he’s seen in years, I’m just scared that his affection is a little misplaced,” You grimace.

“That may be, but Namjoon is still capable of making his own choices. The people at the hospital treated him nicely, and you don’t see him rushing to come home with them.” You can hear Jihyo’s teasing smile through the phone.

“I guess,” You mutter. Despite his initial hostility toward the staff, Namjoon had opened up after the first day there. He had stopped growling and trying to bite the doctors' hands off, and he had even offered the kind woman that checked upon him the most a sweet smile after she had brought him his dinner.

“There’s no guarantees in life Y/n. You don’t know if Namjoon will change his mind in a week, or a month or a year. But I do know that you would respect his wishes and let him go if it ever comes down to that. I think Namjoon knows that too, and that’s why he’s not afraid to open up to you. Because you genuinely care about him,” Jihyo voice is soft through the phone. “You have no guarantees, but some things are worth the risk.” You didn’t even have to think twice to know that Namjoon was worth it. You already knew.

You briefly glance up from your computer as a steaming mug is placed next to it, the wolf hybrid giving you a dimpled smile before he hobbles back to the couch. You raise the cup to your mouth; a relieved sigh leaving your lips as you inhale the strong aroma of the coffee Jihyo gifted you last month. You hold back a groan as you take your first sip, the strain in your eyes already feeling a little more bearable due to the hybrid’s sweet actions.

Namjoon does this a lot, you’ve come to realize. Even with his injury, the wolf hybrid tries his best to do little things for you. It’s everything from bringing you coffee when your energy starts running out, to organizing your scattered notes, to tearing you away from your unfinished chapters when the words just won’t flow anymore. Your cheeks are honestly starting to ache from the smile that seems to be constantly tugging at your lips. You take another sip of the hot beverage, nearly choking on the burning liquid as you notice the two new emails in your inbox. You open the hospital email first, the standardized note doing little to calm your nerves as you skim through the reminder of Namjoon’s appointment next week. You know the wolf hybrid is itching to get the heavy cast off in exchange for a lighter brace, so he’ll be happy to know that his leg is healing as it should be.

You push through the light tremor in your hands as you go to the next email, Yeonjun’s name creating a flurry of nerves to erupt in your stomach. You haven’t formally adopted Namjoon yet. The papers you signed were for a temporary stay while the shelter did more extensive research into your funds and background, so the notice you’ve been waiting for since you left the hospital is finally here. You’ll finally know if you've passed their tests or not. You hastily click the message before you can talk yourself out of it, your eyes scanning frantically over the page until you find the section you were looking for. You slump back in your chair, eyes growing wide as you read the same sentence over and over. You’re eligible to adopt Namjoon if he wants to stay with you.

“Hey Namjoon,” You grin. The gray ears on Namjoon’s head perk up at the sound of his name, the wolf hybrid’s bright questioning eyes meeting yours as you say, “How do you feel about steak tonight?”

“Smells good,” You swear you almost have a heart attack as Namjoon sneaks up behind you, the wolf hybrid sniffing the cooking meat over your shoulder. You have no idea how he manages to be this quiet with crutches.

“Good! They should be done in a few minutes,” You say as you flip the steaks over, turning down the heat to make sure they don’t get burned. You can feel the heat from Namjoon’s body lingering behind you, the wolf hybrid still rooted in place. You bite back a surprised squeal as Namjoon’s arm wraps around your waist, tugging you back a small step so that he can hook his chin over your shoulder.

“Is this okay?” You stiffen as Namjoon’s husky voice brushes against your ear, a shiver running down your spine at the close proximity. You’re no stranger to hugging or holding hands after living with Namjoon for two weeks, but this feels more .. intimate. Different.

“Of course,” You say. You suck your lower lip between your teeth as Namjoon’s fingers spray across your waist, the firm grip making your head spin as he begins to rub his cheek along your shoulder. Oh, you realize. He’s scenting you. So far Namjoon has only scented your wrists, and you understand now why he decided to limit himself to that, because this – this just feels like so much more. The wolf hybrid lets out a pleased huff as he moves to nose along your throat, his soft hair tickling your neck as he does his best to cover your scent with his own.

You can feel your eyes fluttering shut at the gentle touches, your head tilting to the side to allow Namjoon more access to your skin. You feel the rumble in Namjoon’s chest before you hear it, and it quickly dawns on you that you have once again barred your neck to the alpha, submitted, as teeth begin to nip at your sensitive throat. You clutch the spatula in your hand like it’s a lifeline, trying your best to focus on how the metal is digging into your skin rather than how Namjoon’s fingers have started trailing up and down your waist, leaving fires in their wake. You’re doing good, you think. Just don’t think about it. It’s natural, it’s okay–

Your eyes fly open as Namjoon’s tongue drags over the gentle bite marks on your skin, a choked whine escaping your throat. The wolf hybrid stills against your neck, lips resting against your throat as his tail wags furiously behind his back. You can’t tell whether it’s Namjoon’s or your own heart that’s beating so harshly against your ribcage, the wolf hybrid’s naturally woodsy smell making you feel lightheaded at how tightly it’s wrapped around you. You both stand frozen in place, embarrassment beginning to creep up your chest as Namjoon rubs his cheek against your shoulder one last time, his voice deep and raspy as he says, “You smell good.” You offer him a dazed nod, not trusting you voice. Your eyes stay locked on the slightly charred vegetables as the wolf hybrid pulls away. You can hear him clearly now, how he slowly moves his way back to the couch. You let out shuddering breath once you deem him far enough away, forcing your knees to stop shaking and the butterflies in your stomach to calm down as you finish preparing dinner.

“I have something to ask you,” You say. You figure you might as well bite the bullet considering you’ve only been pushing your food around for the last five minutes. Namjoon gives you an encouraging smile around the food in his mouth, his ears perked and attentive.

“I heard back from the shelter today,” You pause as Namjoon’s eyes widen, his jaw working furiously to get rid of the large piece of steak in his mouth. You stifle a snort, resting your chin in your palm as you wait for him to finish.

“Go on,” Namjoon swallows harshly. “Yeonjun told me that everything checks out. My income and credentials are good enough to officially adopt you,” You say. “That is, if you want me to?” You hastily add, a sliver of fear rushing through your veins as the wolf hybrid’s face becomes hard to read.

“Do you?” Namjoon asks.

“Want to adopt you? Yes. I know I might not have the most space to offer you, but there’s nothing I’d love more.” The thought of Namjoon leaving you makes your chest feel hollow and tight, but at the end of the day, it’s the wolf hybrid’s decision. Namjoon regards you silently for a few more seconds, his brown eyes searching your face one last time before his own crumbles with relief.

“Then adopt me. Please,” He rasps, “This is more than enough, I just want to stay with you.” You can’t hold back the smile that blooms on your face, a matching grin tugging at Namjoon’s lips as you say, “Deal.”  

It isn’t until later, when you go to bring out your sheets from your closet that Namjoon stops you. The wolf hybrid is resting on the foot of your bed, his fingers loosely clasped around your wrist as he says, “Stay.”

He clears his throat at the confused look in your eyes, his ears shifting nervously as he nods to the bed. “I know your back hurts from sleeping on the couch, and I promise I’ll keep to myself. Just .. sleep here with me?” You cast an uncertain glance at your bed, trying to calculate just how much space there will be between the two of you. Your back is sore, and the long hours working at your desk don’t exactly make it better. You have ordered a new bed for the extra bedroom, but that has yet to arrive. You probably should’ve realized the website was a little shady considering just how good of a deal the bed was. You sigh.

“I’ll stay.” You’re tired of feeling like you’re seventy years old when you wake up, and your back really needs some proper rest. You help Namjoon manoeuvre under the covers before you get yourself ready for bed. It feels weird slipping into it with Namjoon already there, the wolf hybrid giving you an amused grin at the groan that escapes when your back hits the soft mattress. You can feel the tenseness in your muscles melting away as you drag the duvet up to your nose, your hand blindly reaching for the bedside lamp until the room is plunged into darkness.

“Good night,” You whisper.

“Sweet dreams Y/n.” The warmth and security of Namjoon’s body being so close to yours drags you under before you know it, and truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you slept so well.

You huff as you drag the heavy laundry basket from the spare bedroom. The new bed you ordered has been sitting inside the room for a week, but it has yet to be used. You and Namjoon came to a silent agreement to just forget that it’s even there. As you drag the basket into the living room, you find your gaze automatically drifting to the wolf hybrid. You can’t help but feel guilty as you watch Namjoon lean against the balcony, the wolf hybrid bathed in golden light as the sun begins to set. Namjoon turns slightly, his ears picking up a sound you can’t hear from inside the apartment. The wolf hybrid’s eyes flutter as a soft gust of wind ruffles his hair, his tail wagging slowly at the fresh air. Still, you know it’s not enough. It’s the faint frown on Namjoon’s face that fuels your guilt, because despite his reassurances that this is all he needs, you know it’s a lie. He’s a wolf hybrid. He needs more space, he needs fresher air, and he needs the forest. He’s not made to live in an apartment in the middle of a bustling city, and especially not after living by himself for years out in the wilderness. This may be all he needs, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t happy.

Now that the weather has begun to grow warmer, Namjoon has started spending more and more time on your balcony. It’s been five weeks since the accident, so the bulky cast on his leg is switched out for a lighter brace, but his leg still isn’t strong enough to actually go for a walk outside. You think you both have started to go a little stir-crazy after hardly leaving the apartment for so long, but thankfully the doctor let you know at the last check-up that he can likely remove the brace and start using his leg slowly from next week. Yet, the parks around your area can’t compare in the slightest to the woods around Jihyo’s cabin. Namjoon is his own person, but with the papers you signed last week, he’s now also partially your responsibility. And you just want to do what’s best for the both of you.

You shake your head, huffing out a low curse as you bring the laundry to washing machine inside your bathroom. You chew mindlessly on your lip as you think, getting a little lost in your own thoughts as you watch the clothes being tossed around inside the machine. The soft flesh is almost bitten raw as you come to a conclusion. You don’t need the city in the same way that the wolf hybrid needs the forest. In all honestly, you’re starting to grow a little sick of the constant noise. The only thing you need is good Wi-Fi and well .. Namjoon. You close the bathroom door behind you with a firm snap, the guilt in your stomach slowly turning into excitement as you watch Namjoon push away from the balcony and make his way inside. You think you know how to fix this.  

Namjoon lets out a strained huff as he shifts on the couch. You can feel your concentration slipping further with each movement, the words in front of you bleeding together as you lose your place for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes. You know the wolf hybrid is anxious to get the brace off, but he literally only has to hold on for twelve more hours until it’s time for his appointment. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he keeps his book in his lap, his neck bent at an awkward angle as he tries to continue reading it. The wolf hybrid’s chest is falling and rising a little heavier than normal, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he keeps squirming, his gold tinted eyes nearly burning through the pages with the intensity in his gaze. You place your book down on the couch with a sigh.

“Namjoon,” You can feel your heart still in your chest as the wolf hybrid’s dark eyes

immediately fly up to find yours, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he has around the bound pages. “You know it’ll be easier to read your book if you– Oh,” Your mouth runs dry. You had snatched the book out of Namjoon’s hand to bring it up higher, but it didn’t quite cross your mind that maybe it had been placed there .. strategically. Namjoon is big, and the thick bulge straining against the gray fabric of his sweatpants leaves absolutely nothing to your imagination.

Your forcibly tear your eyes away, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you hastily flip the book around to get a proper look at the cover. It appears that Namjoon must’ve found the books you had stashed away in the other bedroom, those that are just tastefully decorated porn. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Namjoon’s voice is caught between a growl and a whine, the sound strangled and unsure as he reaches for his crutches, “I’ll just uh, go take a cold shower.”

“Do you want me to help?” You snap your mouth shut, horrified at the words that just bypassed your filter. The crutches scatter to the floor as the wolf hybrid turns back to face you, his voice breathless as he says, “What?”

You carefully place Namjoon’s book down on the couch, unsure if you should take the out he inadvertently just gave you. You know this is going into territory beyond just friends or roommates, but then again, your relationship is already a little too intimate to just call it that. But, you still don’t know if that’s because Namjoon has been depraved of human touch for so long that he’s trying to catch up to everything he missed out on, or because he actually likes you. You’ve already accepted your growing feelings for Namjoon, but you’re not sure this is a risk you’re willing to take. You should probably pretend that this never happened. You jump as Namjoon gently tilts your head up, his golden eyes dark as he says, “Y/n, what did you ask me?”

Or maybe, for once in your life, you should take a risk. The wolf hybrid’s gaze follows your throat as you swallow dryly, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you softly repeat, ”Do you want me to help?” The low growl that spills from Namjoon’s mouth makes your thighs clench.

“Fuck,” Namjoon curses, the dark look in his eyes growing wilder as he rasps out a strained, “Please.” Your knees hit the floor before you can even think about it, and another low growl rumbles in Namjoon’s chest as you look up at him.

“Your leg,” You eye the awkward way Namjoon has twisted himself, the wolf hybrid letting out an impatient huff as you wait for him to settle down properly on the couch. You slowly trail your fingers up his good leg once he’s situated, the injured one resting on the coffee table behind your back. You shuffle forward until you’re properly kneeling between Namjoon’s outstretched thighs, your hands resting on the firm muscles.

You keep your eyes locked on the wolf hybrid as you ease your hands up under his baggy shirt. You suck in a breath as you feel the taut and defined abs underneath your fingertips, the muscles jumping as you explore Namjoon’s body. You knew that the wolf hybrid was in good shape after being so active for many years, but the extra food and proper nutrition he’s been getting ever since you brought him home has really filled him out in the right places. You push Namjoon’s shirt up as your fingers trail higher, the firm skin making you bite back a moan. Namjoon is absolutely ripped. Goosebumps rise on Namjoon’s skin as he lets your hands slide across his stomach, the heavy breaths falling from his lips hitching as they glide down down down until your fingers are hooked into the waistband of his sweats. His hips rise off the couch enough to help you pull them off, and the wolf hybrid hastily works his good leg out of the material to give you more room. Namjoon’s hard cock is straining against his boxers, a patch of pre-cum already seeping through the material.

”Fuck, you’re big,” You breathe, biting down harshly on your lips as the wolf hybrid’s cock twitches at your words. Namjoon lets out a raspy whine as you press soft kisses to the inside of his thighs, not stopping until you reach the dark fabric clinging to his hips.

”Is this still okay?” You check, your cunt clenching around nothing as you look up to see how just wrecked Namjoon already looks. The wolf hybrid’s pupils are blown wide, and the veins in his arms look like they’re ready to pop out of his skin from how tightly he’s gripping onto the couch. Namjoon barely manages to nod before he throws his head back with a moan, your hot breath spilling across his skin as you lean down to mouth at his clothed cock. You lick against the already damp material, your nose trailing along the thick length. It doesn’t take long before Namjoon’s chest rumbles, his voice low and deep as he says, ”Y/n, no teasing.”

A shot of arousal travels down your spine at the wolf hybrid’s dominating tone, and you waste no time pulling his boxers down his legs, Namjoon quickly stepping out of it like he did with his sweats. Your nails dig lightly into the wolf hybrid’s thighs as you take in the sight of his cock, the thick and long length making your eyes widen. Namjoon is so big you can’t even properly close your fist around him, his shaft already glistening with pre-cum. You quickly rub your thumb across his slit as another drop forms, using it to coat the rest of his length as you lean in closer, just enough to press feather light kisses to the head of it. The wolf hybrid gasps at the contact, and you peak up to find his eyes shut tight, a light sheen of sweat on his face as he strains to hold himself back from touching you, tail wagging wildly behind his back. You press another kiss to the pinkish head of his cock, the pressure a little firmer as you open your mouth enough to take him in, swirling your tongue around the tip.

”Fuck, you feel so good,” Namjoon moans. His thighs clenches at the wet hotness around his cock, fingers twitching by his side as he digs them into the couch cushions. You begin to push down further on his length, trying your best to relax your throat as you slowly bob your head on Namjoon’s cock, hand stroking the rest of it to match the rhythm of your mouth. You moan as you feel the heavy weight of the wolf hybrid’s cock resting on your tongue, the slightly salty taste only spurring you on further as you tighten your lips around him. You slide your free hand up his thigh, grasping his tense fingers to bring them to your hair. You can tell Namjoon was itching to touch by the way he immediately gathers your soft locks between his fingers, curling them until he has a nice grip behind your head.

”Baby,” You look up just in time to meet Namjoon’s hooded gaze, a whine pressing up your throat at the desperate hunger in his eyes. The vibrations makes the wolf hybrid’s hips jerk, the sudden motion making you choke as his cock brushes against the back of your throat. The grip in your hair tightens as Namjoon tries to pull your back, but the apology dies on his lips as you deliberately swallow him down even further, refusing to let him tug you off.

“Look at you,” The wolf hybrid groans, ”You were made for this, weren’t you baby?” You can only hum in response, Namjoon’s words making your cunt throb with need as you futilely try to rub your thighs together to create some friction. The wolf hybrid’s hand follows the movements of your head as you up your pace, your lips coming down to touch the fingers wrapped around his base as you take him in faster. Your name rolls of Namjoon’s tongue like a prayer as he watches you swallow down his cock, his abs clenching as you don’t let up on the speed.

”Fuck, your mouth looks so pretty stuffed full of my cock,” Namjoon growls. Trying to not choke on the stiff length in your mouth has distracted you enough that you don’t notice the weight forming underneath your fingers until you’re staring down at a fully formed knot. You don’t have much time to think about it before you feel Namjoon’s grip in your hair tighten, his chest rumbling as he helps you swallow down another inch of his cock. You’re almost at the base, almost touching his knot with only a couple of fingers between the taut skin and your lips.

“I– shit, I'm not going to last.” Tears spring to your eyes as you hum around the wolf hybrid’s length, the vibrations making Namjoon’s breaths turn harsher, louder, as your determination grows. You can feel Namjoon’s impending orgasm before he even manages to stutter out a broken warning, the grip in your hair bordering on painful as you suck harder, your tongue dragging along his length one last time before you feel the knot under your fingers begin to throb.

”Oh, fuck– Baby,” You cling to Namjoon’s toned thighs, nails digging into his skin as you feel the first burst of cum hit your throat. The wolf hybrid’s hard cock pulses as he lets out a loud moan, the tail behind his back stilling as he releases his load. You whimper as you feel spurt after spurt trail down your throat, breathing becoming more and more difficult until you’re forced to pull back to swallow it down easier. You gently bob your head, hand once again stroking Namjoon’s length as you coax him through his orgasm.

“Y/n,” Namjoon whines, his legs beginning to tremble from overstimulation as you swipe your tongue one last time over the head of his cock, swallowing down the last of the salty substance lingering in your mouth. You can feel the wetness between your own legs as you pull back to press a chaste kiss to Namjoon’s knee, the wolf hybrid loosening the grip he has on your hair to gently massage his fingers into your scalp. A blowjob has never left you so turned on before, but as Namjoon’s gentle touches against the dull stinging in your scalp continues, the throbbing between your legs is forced to take a backseat as your heart overflows with fondness at how he always finds a way to take care of you too.

You glance up to find Namjoon’s warm eyes already looking at you, the hunger in them still there. ”Let me return the favour,” Namjoon rasps as the hand in your hair glides down over your shoulders, all the way down to the hand resting on his leg. You want it so bad, but– ”Later,” You wince at the hoarseness in your throat, gently patting Namjoon’s injured leg as you say, “Let’s save it for later when your leg has healed.”

”Hmm, you better baby,” The air gets knocked out of your lungs at the smirk Namjoon gives you, the points of his canines just poking out over his lips as he leans back to catch his breath. You take the moment to marvel at the golden skin under your hands, at how Namjoon’s muscles dance underneath your fingertips. Baby. It makes your head swim in the best way. You grin as you trail a finger over the wolf hybrid’s softening cock, Namjoon’s good leg kicking out in protest as you touch the sensitive skin. He’s still dripping, the knot at the base of his cock almost gone. You push up from your knees with a soft groan, but Namjoon catches your hand before you can leave, his gray ears pulling back.

”Where are you going?” The worry in his handsome feature is obvious, and you reach out to smooth the furrow between his brows.

”I’m just going to get a towel to get you cleaned up,” You smile. You can tell the wolf hybrid is still reluctant to let you go, but he eventually relents, squeezing your fingers before he releases it.

You almost grimace at your own reflection as you run the towel under the lukewarm water. You look absolutely wrecked.Your hair is a mess, and you quickly splash some water on your face to attempt to make yourself look a little more presentable. Namjoon cleans himself up quickly as you go to grab something to soothe the rasp in your throat, the wolf hybrid readjusting his sweats around his hips as you settle down next to him.

”Namjoon–” Your breath hitches as he suddenly leans in, the wolf hybrid’s hand reaching up to cup your cheek as he places soft pecks against your lips. You melt into his touch, eagerly moving your mouth against his as you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers curling into the long hair at his nape. A pleased rumble sounds from Namjoon’s chest as you open you lips enough for his tongue to meet yours. You allow yourself to drown in Namjoon – the gentle touch on your cheek and the passionate kisses pulling you under until your mind grows hazy, your lungs screaming for air when you finally break away from his lips.

The wolf hybrid wastes no time moving his lips down your jaw, pressing gentle pecks against your skin all the way down to your neck. Namjoon’s tail wags steadily behind his back as he inhales your scent, the soft kisses turning into nips and licks as he marks your throat. You try your best to get your ragged breath under control as Namjoon takes his time scenting your neck. The wolf hybrid presses a kiss just below your ear; his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he murmurs out a fond, “I like you so much.”

”What?” You squeak, your eyes growing wide as you tug Namjoon back. Even if this is what you’ve been dying to hear, you can’t help but feel a little anxious. Anxious that this might be a mistake, that Namjoon’s affection might be a little misplaced, but still– ”I like you,” He repeats, the confidence in his voice wavering as he says, ”I don’t want this to just be a one time thing. I want this – us – to be more.”

You find yourself nodding along to Namjoon’s words before he’s even finished, a shy grin blooming on your face as you say, ”Me too. I like you too, so much.” Namjoon’s face lights up like the sun at your confession, his ears perked and his tail moving so quickly behind his back you can’t even keep track of it. The pure adoration you find in the wolf hybrid’s eyes make you flush, but Jihyo’s words keep you from pulling away. You have no guarantees that this will work out, but you know that you would be a fool if you don’t even try.

”Good,” Namjoon grins. You card your fingers through Namjoon’s silver locks, just high enough to scratch gently behind one of the wolf hybrid’s ears. Namjoon turns into putty in your hands, his head slumping against your shoulder to allow you easier access to his ears as he lets out a pleased noise. You let out a small giggle, brushing your lips against his cheek as you whisper, ”Good.”

“So ..” You extend your arm behind you, watching Namjoon intently as you say, ”What do you think?” The wolf hybrid’s head tilts as he takes in his surroundings, his gray ears twitching as he tries to pinpoint where all the different sounds are coming from. You’re standing in front of a quaint little cottage in the woods, about an hour drive away from the city and your current apartment. You had fallen head over heels for the property the moment you first saw it, the beautiful stone and wood building screaming your name as you had clicked through the photos. It does need a little TLC, but it’s nothing you and Namjoon can’t fix. The cottage looks like a dream with the lush trees and colourful flowers encasing it, and you can’t help but think that this is the home you’ve been waiting for. The wolf hybrid’s face is unreadable as his golden eyes scan the area, but you notice that his tail twitches, as if he’s trying to hold himself back from getting excited.

“What’s this?” Namjoon strides around the car with ease, no trace of his injury left as he intertwines your fingers with his.

“Well, it’s ours. If you want it,” You bite down on your lip in anticipation as surprise flickers across Namjoon’s face, the wolf hybrid quickly moving his gaze back to the cottage, and the dense woods behind it. “I do,” Namjoon breathes, a brilliant smile settling on his face, “It’s perfect.”

“Oh thank god,” You sigh dramatically, collapsing against the wolf hybrid’s side as he rolls his eyes. He quickly wraps his arm around your shoulder, tugging you close enough to nose against your neck.

”But are you sure you want to leave the city?” Namjoon says, his tone a little worried at the prospect of you leaving everything you have behind.

You circle your arms around the wolf hybrid’s waist, shifting your position enough to allow you to look up at Namjoon’s face as you say, ”I can write anywhere. The only thing that I need is you,” You rise slightly off the ground, just enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ”And good Wi-Fi,” You add with a grin.

Namjoon snorts as he dips his head down to fit his lips properly against yours, the kiss lazy and sweet as the early summer breeze ruffles your hair. The last four months have thrown you for a loop you never could have expected, but as you stand here with Namjoon, you realize that maybe that’s the beauty of it all. Life might be uncertain, but what isn’t, is that you love Namjoon, and Namjoon loves you back. And that’s all you need to know.

a/n: it took some time but out of the woods is finally finished! i really hope you enjoyed wolf!namjoon’s solo story, he’s really just a big babie and he deserves the best. :( if you liked the story then please drop me a reblog/comment, that would mean the world to me! as always, see you all soon and stay safe! <3 and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖 i would really appreciate the support!