#like this is not the brightest moment of my entire life I hope to god

[donothing-nothingworks]

do you ever think about how life is a series of cycles and patterns and the same stuff keeps happening in different ways

[pin-k-ink]

the sequel // suna rintarou

tw ⇢ childhood friends to lovers, so much angst, hurt/comfort, alcohol consumption, yearning, happy ending

wc ⇢ 5k

a/n: i never cried so much while writing something

Suna felt like he was watching a movie. A sad, tragic fucking movie that he couldn't tear his eyes away from no matter how much it hurt to keep looking.

Frame by frame, moment by excruciating moment, he watched you - his best friend, the love of his life - fall in and out of love with someone else. Again.

If his life really was a movie...what role would he play? The sidekick? The comic relief? No, he decided with a bitter twist of his lips. He wasn't even important enough for that. He was just an extra. A background character that no one noticed or cared about.

Someone who faded into the scenery while the bright, beautiful protagonist - that was you, always you - took center stage and shone.

Suna had known you his entire life. His earliest memories all featured you, front and center, with him orbiting around you like a satellite, like a moth drawn to a flame.

You'd taken your first wobbling steps together, hands clasped and eyes wide with wonder. Babbled your first words to each other in a language only you two could understand. Gotten into mischief and skinned your knees and learned about the world side by side.

For as long as he could remember, you'd been his constant, his touchstone. His north star. The axis his whole world turned on. Life without you was unfathomable. Unthinkable.

But somehow, as the years scrolled by like frames on a reel...Suna started to feel like he was watching from a distance. Like there was an invisible wall between you, thin as glass but strong as steel, that he could never quite break through.

No matter how close you were, how many secrets you traded and inside jokes you laughed over and half-spoken conversations you could hold with just a glance...you always felt just a little bit out of reach. Like a mirage that would dissolve into mist if he tried to touch. Something too good to be true, too precious for the likes of him to grasp.

And how could he even think of reaching out, of trying to hold onto you the way he desperately wanted to? How could a mere background character ever hope to stand alongside the radiant lead, the brightest spot in every scene?

No, Suna was content to stay in the shadows. To watch and support and be there in whatever way you needed him, even as it killed him by inches. As long as he could keep you in his life, as long as he got to stay by your side...that would be enough. It had to be.

But god, it was getting harder. Harder to paste on a carefree smile and listen to you gush about your latest boyfriend. Harder to swallow the jealousy and longing clogging his throat when he watched you with stars in your eyes, so incandescently happy in someone else's arms.

Harder to bite his tongue against the confessions that always wanted to spill out, to choke back the pleas and promises and declarations his treacherous heart whispered in the dark.

"I love you," he wanted to say, every minute of every day. "I've always loved you. You're my forever, my reason, my home. Pick me. Choose me. See me. I swear I'll spend my life making you happy, if you'll just let me try."

But he never said it. Never took that leap of faith, too terrified of shattering the fragile status quo. Too scared of losing you entirely.

So he stayed quiet, stayed still, even as he felt like he was cracking apart inside. He watched you fall in love again and again, watched each bright-eyed boy promise you forever. Watched your smile dim and your shoulders droop when they inevitably let you down, broke your big, beating heart so carelessly.

It was a particular kind of agony, holding you while you cried over someone else. Seeing the light go out of your eyes, powerless to do anything but wipe away your tears and murmur empty platitudes. Every hitched sob was a barb in his skin, every sniffle a dagger to his ribs.

He wanted to shake you sometimes, wanted to scream "Why can't you see what's right in front of you? Why can't you see how much I love you? How I would never, ever hurt you the way they do?"

But he never did. Just folded you close and stroked your hair and let you dampen his shirt with your grief. Let you give him tiny glimpses of the mosaic of cracks in your chest before you pasted on a wobbly smile and soldiered on, determined not to let the world see you bleed.

Those cracks scared him. Scared him in a bone-deep way few things ever had. Because he lived in dread of the day they splintered apart entirely. The day your seemingly endless capacity for love and joy and trust finally ran dry, bled out by a thousand careless cuts.

He couldn't bear the thought of your light going out forever. Of those glorious eyes going flat and dull, that incandescent smile withering on the vine. You were the sun and he was just a planet in your orbit - he genuinely didn't know if he could survive without your warmth. Without you, everything would wither.

So he would endure. He would be your rock, your safe harbor, your shelter from every storm. Even if it killed him, even if he shattered to pieces in the process, he would hold you together.

Because a world without your laughter, without your brilliant, untamable spirit...that was no world at all. And maybe his love could be enough to keep you shining. Maybe if he believed hard enough, if he poured enough of his own flickering light into you...you would be okay.

And just maybe, someday...you would turn that supernova smile on him. Maybe you would finally, finally see him. Not as a background character, not as a sidekick...but as a man who loved you with every fiber of his being.

As someone who had been there all along, just waiting for you to look a little closer. To see the shape of his devotion, the staggering depth of his feelings written in every line of his face, his heart in his eyes and your name carved into his bones.

But until that impossible day, he would watch. He would wait. He would bide his time until the credits rolled and the movie ended...and just pray that there would be a sequel. One where he finally got to step out of the background and into the spotlight of your eyes.

Where you were his co-star, his partner, his love. Where you wrote a new story together, one frame at a time, and the only tears were happy ones.

It was a beautiful dream, fragile and gossamer and so painfully far out of reach. But it was all he had, so he clung to it in the hidden depths of his heart and kept watching the scenes play out.

Kept hoping that someday, if he was patient enough, if he loved you hard enough...the dream would become reality.

And you would finally, finally be his.

As the years scrolled by, Suna watched you grow and change, always from a step behind. He watched you navigate the perilous waters of adolescence, cheering you on as you blossomed into a beautiful, vibrant young woman. Watched you stumble and pick yourself back up, watched you learn and evolve and become more yourself with every passing day.

He was there for all of it, every milestone and heartbreak, every triumph and disappointment. When you got your first period and cried from embarrassment, he was the one who biked to the store for pads and chocolate, the one who held you and reassured you that it was all normal and okay.

When you got your heart broken for the first time at sixteen, he was the one who showed up at your window with ice cream and terrible movies, the one who let you sob into his chest and rail against the unfairness of it all.

When you got accepted into your dream college, he was the first person you called, screaming with joy down the line. He'd shut his eyes against the sting of tears, against the yawning ache in his chest at the thought of you leaving him behind...and told you how proud he was, how happy he was for you.

Always, always, he was your person. Your touchstone, your safe place. The one who knew you inside and out, backward and forward and every way in between. He was there in all the big moments...and all the little ones in between that made up a life.

Like the lazy summer afternoons spent lounging in the park, shoulders brushing as you read your respective books, content to just exist in the same space. The midnight walks under a canopy of stars, hands casually entwined, no words needed in the warm, honeyed dark.

The cups of coffee he'd bring you on drowsy mornings, made just the way you liked. The way you'd curl into his side during scary movies, face hidden trustingly in the curve of his neck, his arm a protective shield around you.

All those insignificant, in-between moments...they were everything to Suna. He hoarded them like a miser, turned them over and over in his mind like precious gems on nights when the ache in his chest got too big to breathe around.

Each one was a flicker of light, a tiny ember of hope that maybe, someday...you would see. You would understand just how much he loved you, how much he had always loved you. You would realize that he was right there, that he had been there all along, just waiting for you to really look at him.

But you never did. Your eyes always seemed to skim right over him, to look through him like he was made of glass, transparent and inconsequential. He was furniture to you, he sometimes thought despairingly. Part of the scenery of your life, always there but never really seen.

Never the one you wanted, the one you yearned for. He was the one you settled for, the one you came back to when the newest bright-eyed boy let you down. The one you cried on, the one you leaned on...but never the one you loved. At least, not the way he wanted you to.

God, how he wished you would love him. It was a physical ache, a bone-deep longing that never went away no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. He felt hollowed out with it, scraped raw and empty.

Late at night, he let himself imagine it. Let himself paint a picture of a world where you wanted him back, where you looked at him with even a fraction of the desperate, clawing need he felt for you.

In his weakest moments, he let himself believe it could be real. That someday, you would wake up and realize that he was everything you'd ever wanted, that he could make you happy in a way no one else ever could.

That you would take his face in your hands, eyes wide and wondering like you were seeing him for the first time. That you would breathe his name like a prayer, like a revelation, and kiss him with a tenderness that set his soul alight.

That you would tell him you loved him, that you were sorry for taking so long to understand, but you wanted to make up for lost time. That you wanted to be his, wholly and completely, for the rest of your lives.

It was a beautiful dream, fragile and perfect as a soap bubble. But like a bubble, it always burst, leaving him blinking away stinging tears and feeling like a fool.

Because this wasn't a movie, no matter how much it felt like one sometimes. There was no guarantee of a happy ending, no artful resolution scripted in the stars.

In the real world, the guy pining in the background didn't always get the girl. Sometimes he just stayed in the background forever, watching her life happen without him, until the credits rolled and the lights came up on his lonely little corner of the world.

But oh, how he wanted to believe. He would never be the leading man, he knew that. He was too quiet, too steady, too content to let you shine while he basked in your reflected glow. You needed someone as brilliant and dazzling as you, someone who could match you spark for spark and set the world on fire.

Someone braver than him. Someone who would risk it all for a chance at your heart, instead of staying safe and silent on the sidelines.

He wasn't that guy. He never would be. But a tiny, desperate part of him still held out hope that maybe, someday...he could be enough for you, just as he was. That even if he wasn't the star of the show, he could still be an integral part of your story.

The one who was always there to catch you when you stumbled, to hold you up when you couldn't stand on your own. The one who knew your secrets and your scars, your hopes and your fears. The one who loved every messy, imperfect, beautiful inch of you, unconditionally and irrevocably.

Maybe he could be your co-star, your partner in crime and love and life. Maybe you could write a new story together, one where the quiet, steadfast best friend got his chance to step into the light and be seen, really seen, by the only eyes that had ever mattered.

It was a slim hope, gossamer-thin and liable to tear at the slightest touch. But it was all Suna had, so he held it close and carried it with him, a tiny flicker of light in the dark.

And he kept watching, kept waiting. Kept loving you with everything he had, even as it wore him down to the bone. He would play his role in your movie, would be whatever you needed him to be...until the day came when he could finally step out from the background and into your arms.

Until the day when "I love you" wasn't just a secret whispered in the dark, but a vow made in the light of your smile, your hands in his and your heart beating against his chest.

Until the day when the movie of his life finally got its happy ending...and you were right there beside him, radiant and real, as the screen faded to black and the credits rolled on a love story for the ages.

He just had to hold on until then. Just had to keep believing, keep loving, keep watching.

Because in the end, he knew it would all be worth it. You would always be worth it.

Even if it took a lifetime, even if it killed him...he would wait for you.

Always.

As the years went by and you both grew older, Suna watched you evolve and change in a thousand tiny ways. He watched you graduate college, watched you land your dream job and move into your first adult apartment. Watched you navigate the ups and downs of adult life with the same resilient grace he'd always admired, always loved.

Through it all, he was there. Your constant, your touchstone. The one you called when you got a promotion, voice bubbling with excitement. The one you leaned on when your grandma died, eyes swollen and voice thick with grief.

He was the one who helped you move, lugging boxes up endless flights of stairs and quietly assembling IKEA furniture while you flitted around like a hummingbird, arranging and rearranging. The one who showed up at your door with soup and medicine when you got the flu, who sat with you and watched terrible reality TV until you fell asleep on his shoulder.

He was woven into every part of your life, as essential and invisible as air. Always there, always just a phone call or a text away. Your best friend, your rock, your safe harbor in every storm.

But still, even as you grew closer than ever...there was a distance there. A wall that Suna could never quite breach, no matter how hard he tried. Because no matter how much of your life you shared with him, no matter how many secrets you whispered into the dark...there was always a part of you that held back.

A part that you kept locked away, hidden behind bright smiles and breezy deflections. The part that held your heart, your deepest hopes and dreams and fears. The part that Suna longed to know, to understand...but that you never quite let him see.

It hurt, that distance. It ate at him like acid, slow and corrosive. Because he wanted all of you, every messy, complicated, beautiful part. He wanted to crack you open and crawl inside, to burrow into the hidden depths of your soul and make a home there.

He wanted to be the one you turned to with your whole heart, the one you trusted with your most vulnerable self. He wanted to be your person in every sense of the word, not just the one you leaned on but the one you loved, the one you chose.

But you never did. No matter how much he longed for it, no matter how many nights he spent staring at the ceiling and wishing...you never saw him as anything more than a friend. A best friend, sure, but still just...a friend.

And god, it was getting harder to bear. Harder to swallow back the words that always wanted to spill out, the confessions and pleas and promises. Harder to bite his tongue and smile when you gushed about your latest boyfriend, to offer a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on when they inevitably let you down.

He felt like he was drowning, sometimes. Like he was being slowly crushed under the weight of all the unspoken things, all the pent-up love and longing and desperation. He felt like he was fading away, bit by bit, worn thin by the constant effort of holding himself together, of keeping his heart locked away behind a friendly smile and an easy laugh.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could do it. Wasn't sure how much more he could take before he shattered completely, before he just...broke.

But what choice did he have? He couldn't lose you. Couldn't bear the thought of a life without you in it, even if being near you was slowly killing him. You were oxygen to him, necessary and vital. Cutting you out would be like cutting out his own heart.

So he endured. He swallowed the hurt and the jealousy and the desperate, clawing need, and he was there. Always, always there, waiting in the wings. Waiting for you to see him, to really see him.

Waiting for his chance to step out of the background and into the light of your love.

It was getting harder to hold onto hope, some days. Harder to believe that there would ever be a right time, a perfect moment. That he would ever find the courage to lay his heart at your feet and beg you to take it, to cherish it the way he'd always cherished you.

But he had to believe. It was all he had, this fragile flicker of faith. The tiniest spark of possibility, glowing in the dark.

So he fanned it carefully, tended it like the precious thing it was. He held it close on the nights when the loneliness got too much to bear, when the ache in his chest made it hard to breathe. Whispered it to himself like a mantra, a prayer:

Someday. Someday. Someday.

Someday, you would see. Someday, you would understand. Someday, he would be brave enough, strong enough, to reach out and grasp the future he wanted so desperately.

Someday, your movie would reach its climax. The music would swell, the camera would pan in...and he would finally, finally step into his destiny. Into the starring role he'd always been meant to play, the one he'd been rehearsing for his whole life.

He would take your hands in his, look into your eyes...and he would say it. The words that had been living in his throat for years, the ones that beat against his ribs like caged birds, desperate for freedom.

"I love you," he would say, simple and honest and achingly true. "I've always loved you. And I know I'm not the kind of guy you usually go for, I know I'm not exciting or flashy or whatever, but...I'm here. I've always been here. And I always will be, if you'll let me. Because you're it for me. You're everything."

And maybe, just maybe...you would hear him. Really hear him, the way you never had before. Maybe you would look at him with new eyes, with dawning realization and wonder and joy.

Maybe you would see all the love he'd been holding back, see the shape of his devotion in every line of his face. Maybe you would understand that he was your person, your forever...just like you were his.

"Oh," you would breathe, soft and reverent. "Oh, Suna. I...I never knew. I never saw..."

"I know," he would whisper, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. "I know, baby. But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere. Not ever again."

And then...then you would kiss him. Soft and sweet and filled with promise, filled with all the love he'd always dreamed of. You would wind your arms around his neck and press close, and he would hold you like he'd always longed to, like you were the most precious thing in the universe.

Because you were. God, you were. And finally, finally...you were his.

His best friend. His soulmate. His happy ending, the one he'd always been chasing.

The credits would roll, the music would fade out...and a new story would begin.

The evening had started like countless others - just you and Suna, a few too many drinks, and a forgotten movie playing in the background as you laughed and joked and reminisced. It was comfortable, familiar, the kind of easy intimacy born from a lifetime of friendship.

But as the night wore on and the alcohol flowed, Suna found himself growing quiet, a melancholy settling over him like a fog. He watched you through increasingly blurry eyes, taking in the way the soft light played over your features, the way your laughter seemed to fill the room, bright and effervescent.

God, you were so beautiful. So vibrant, so full of life and joy and everything good in the world. And he loved you so much it hurt, a physical ache in his chest that never went away, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

"You know what's really pathetic?" he found himself saying, the words slipping out before he could bite them back.

You turned to him, head cocked, a curious smile playing about your lips. "What's that?"

Suna swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, toes curling over the precipice. He knew he should step back, laugh it off, change the subject. But the alcohol had loosened his tongue, lowered his inhibitions, and suddenly...suddenly he couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Me," he said, voice rough and scratchy with emotion. "I'm pathetic. Because I've been in love with you for so fucking long, and I've never had the balls to tell you."

Your eyes went wide, lips parting in shock, but Suna barreled on, the words pouring out of him like water from a burst dam.

"I've loved you since we were kids," he said, staring down at his hands, vision blurring with unshed tears. "Since the day you punched that kid for making fun of my haircut in third grade. Since the summer we were twelve and you broke your arm falling out of that tree, and you held my hand the whole way to the hospital even though you were the one in pain."

A smile flickered across his face, small and fond and aching. "I loved you when we were sixteen and you got your heart broken for the first time, and you cried on my shoulder for hours. I loved you when you accidentally burnt toast because you were singing in the kitchen. I loved you when we graduated high school, and you looked so beautiful in your cap and gown that it took my breath away."

He risked a glance up at you, finding you staring at him with a stricken expression, tears tracking silently down your cheeks. "I loved you through every boyfriend, every breakup, every lame movie night and inside joke and 2 AM phone call. I loved you on your best days and your worst days and every day in between."

Suna's voice broke then, a sob catching in his throat. "I love you now," he whispered, raw and ragged. "I love you so much it's like a physical thing, like a part of me. Like I can't breathe right when you're not around, can't think straight when you're near. You're in my veins, in my bones, in every beat of my fucking heart, and I...I can't keep pretending anymore."

The tears were flowing freely now, hot and fast down his face, but he made no move to wipe them away. "I know I'm not...I know I'm not what you want," he choked out, chest heaving with the force of his emotions. "I know I'm just your best friend, just the guy you call when you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to laugh with. But god, I want to be more. I want to be everything to you, the way you are to me."

He reached out with shaking hands, cupping your face, thumbs swiping at the tears painting your cheeks. "I love you," he breathed, pouring every ounce of longing, every shred of desperate devotion into the words. "I am so fucking in love with you, it's like...it's like I don't know how to be anything else. And I just...I needed you to know. Even if it ruins everything, even if you don't feel the same...I couldn't keep it in anymore. I couldn't keep lying to you, to myself."

Suna closed his eyes then, unable to bear the sight of your face, the pity or gentle rejection he knew must be written there. He felt flayed open, raw and exposed, heart lying shattered at your feet.

But then...then he felt your hands on his, warm and steady. Felt you lean in, forehead pressing against his own, the salt of your tears mingling with his.

"Suna, you idiot," you whispered, and he flinched, bracing for the blow. But your voice was soft, achingly tender, suffused with a warmth that made his eyes fly open in shock. "How could you not know? How could you not see that I...that I love you too? That I've always loved you, from the minute we met?"

He stared at you, hardly daring to breathe, to hope. But you were smiling through your tears, eyes shining with a light he'd never seen before. "You're not just my best friend," you said, hands sliding into his hair, cradling him like he was something precious. "You're my soulmate, my other half. The one person who knows me better than anyone, who's always been there, always loved me, even at my worst."

You pressed your lips to his forehead, his cheeks, the corners of his trembling mouth. "I love you, Suna Rintarou," you murmured against his skin, each word a benediction. "I'm in love with you. And if you want me...I'm yours. Forever."

A broken sob tore from Suna's throat, disbelief and joy and overwhelming relief crashing over him in a tidal wave. He surged forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was messy and desperate and perfect, pouring every ounce of love, every year of longing into the press of his mouth on yours.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, hands fisting in his shirt, holding him close like you never wanted to let go. And god, he never wanted you to. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, wrapped up in you, in the love he'd craved for so long, the love he'd never dared to hope could be his.

When you finally broke apart, breathing hard, Suna couldn't stop touching you - hands skimming over your face, your hair, your shoulders, like he needed to convince himself this was real. That you were real, that this was happening.

"I love you," he rasped, resting his forehead against yours. "God, I love you so much."

You smiled, radiant and blinding, and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "I love you too," you whispered. "Always have, always will."

And as Suna gathered you into his arms, as he buried his face in your hair and breathed you in...he felt something slot into place in his chest. A piece he hadn't even known was missing, a hole he'd carried for so long, suddenly filled by your love, your presence, your promise of forever.

From those early days when you first stumbled into each other's orbits, he'd watched your lives play out together like adjacent movies running on parallel screens. Two stories inching closer with each passing year, edging tantalizingly near but never quite converging into one. He was the yearning protagonist, you the luminous star burning bright just out of reach.

But now, in this transcendent moment, the projectors had merged. The credits were rolling on that old, achingly familiar film that had been his constant lonesome companion. And when the lights came up, when the screen flickered to brilliant new life...it was a sequel. Your sequel together at last, 3D and eye-searing in its vividness.

No longer was he resigned to loving you from afar, playing the supporting role in your story. Now you were his co-star, his perfectly matched lead - twin suns burning brilliantly side-by-side in their own cosmic romance.

This was just the beginning. Your beginning, the sequel he'd waited his entire existence to see... and it was more extraordinary than anything he could have ever imagined.

[torialefay]

I love the way you write about Channie so here i come with a request!

Could you maybe write something, like a one shot idk, about how chan would propose to you?

I feel like it would be so perfect and im on my period so i really need a good romantic thing to cry on (maybe a bit smutty on the end cause…yk…👀👀👀)

🌊💍

Chris hid his hands behind his back as he realized they were a shaking mess. He was hoping you hadn't noticed... As if his voice hadn't been pitchy the entire night and he hadn't been acting totally bizzare for the past two weeks. To be honest, you weren't sure what was up with him, and you were slightly worried that it was because he'd regretted bringing you back home to Australia with him.

Considering the amazing (and very expensive) restaurant he'd just taken you to, you tried pushing those thoughts aside to just enjoy the relaxing evening with your boyfriend.

On the drive home, Chan had suggested taking a detour to have a walk on the beach.

"You're really pulling out all the stops tonight, aren't you baby?" you had teased, leaning in to peck him on the cheek as he kept his eyes on the road.

He'd let out a strained laugh followed up by suggesting a short drive to the first beach he'd taken you to when you'd come for your first visit. It was a place that had a lot of sentimental meaning to him as he used to come a lot with his family and friends.

You'd happily said yes, which led you to your current situation- trying to make small talk with your boyfriend who was a trembling, slightly sweaty mess.

"Babe, is everything okay?" you finally asked as your feet muddled through the water, one step at a time. The tides gently washed away each mark as you went.

"Of course... why?" he tried to cover up nonchalantly, but sounded more grand than he'd meant to.

"You just don't seem yourself... The past couple of weeks, you've seemed a bit... off," you looked away from him and out towards the sea, calming yourself a bit. "It's not because of me, is it? You're not regretting bringing me?"

"Oh god no, y/n, no," Chris said, scatter-brained now as he moved his body to stand right in front of you, forcing your eyes back on him. The crashing waves washed up against his legs, leaving the bottoms of his pants sopping wet.

"It's not that at all," he continued, reaching his hands for yours to hold you steady. "I just- jeez, I wanted to do this a different way," he nervously laughed at himself, looking off for a split second in his usual Channie embarrassment.

Your heart began to speed up at the sudden realization. Was he about to do what you thought he was about to do?

"But umm, here goes nothing," he bashfully smiled before clearing his throat and fixating his eyes back on you. "Y/n, every day I spend with you, I fall more and more in love." His ears turned the brightest shade of pink. "And I've known from the very moment I met you that you would be special, but I never realized-" his voice broke. You thought you could make out the tiniest glimmer of water in his eyes, which became more evident as his eyes and nose were slowly overcome with a slight red hue.

He shook his head slightly as if to shake it off while you felt tears start to well up in your own eyes. Your heart felt like it was swelling until it would bust.

"I never realized just how amazing life would be once you came into it. You truly make me a better man," his voice carried up, batting away tears. "And I, I just wanted you to know that I would move the heavens and earth for you. I am 100% certain that you are the love of my life," he sniffled, his eyes sparkling.

"Which is why-" he strained out, removing his hands from yours to reach into his pocket. He swiftly removed a small black box. "I have to ask you," he continued, slowly kneeling himself down onto one knee in front of you. The waves crashed behind him as they ran up along the shore, washing through his legs. His expression softened, admiring the way you looked in this moment with a single tear falling down your face.

"Y/full/name, will you make me the happiest man in the world and do me the honor of marrying me?"

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

edited to add: i'm so sorry anon for the lack of smut (and missing your period 😭), but maybe a pt 2? if you'd like?

[perfectlyoongi]

SOULMATE!JIN who imagined you every time he looked at the moon. the celestial glow of the moon created holograms of your soul every time it appeared at night; in its purity, amid all its cosmic history, the moon offered Jin glimpses of a soulmate who waited patiently for him, comforting him that you were both looking at the same moon at the same time. “i know i don't know you yet, but i can tell by the way the moon shines and the stars adorn it that my soulmate is watching the same moon and whispering the same dreams ass me.”

SOULMATE!JIN who was looking forward to meeting you. Jin listened attentively to all the stories the stars told him about you; your whole soul was painted in heavenly tones by the bright moon, your whole essence was preached in harmonious sounds by the warm sun; Jin already knew you before he even saw you, and it was by falling in love with your entire nature when told by the universe that Jin realized he just wanted to get to know you as soon as possible. “i’m sure my soulmate shines with the light of all their ethereal beauty.”

SOULMATE!JIN who loved you instantly. the universe had already engendered your love, the stars were already telling your story in the midst of immortal constellations and intense brightness — it was obvious that Jin would love you instantly. meeting you was like finding a part of him that was eternally lost and he didn't even realize it; meeting you was like discovering what love really was; meeting you was like finally realizing what was so beautiful about living. “there is no other option than to love you. this is what the gods created me for. that's what the stars gave me life for. just to love you.”

SOULMATE!JIN who shined just looking at you. you yourself were light. you brought with you all the celestial radiance that made the universe so beautiful; you were made of cosmic dust that illuminated your soul so intensely. you and only you. the charm you brought with you was enough to comfort Jin, it was enough to make him feel the serene tranquillity he so desperately sought — it was only natural for Jin to reflect some of your light. “the calm that emanates from you is enough to give me strength to continue living this chaotic life. you are the only one capable of giving me that hope.”

SOULMATE!JIN who sent wishes of eternal love to the various stars of the night. Jin trusted only the various celestial stars to guard your love, declaring promises and dreams on the brightest nights shared with you; with a wide smile on his face, eyes fixed on the vast sky and hand held in yours, Jin let those unique moments keep the hope of an eternal future by your side in the infinite stars. “when i leave this life, i want the love i shared in this life and in all others to continue following me so i can love you once again.”

SOULMATE!JIN who believed in destiny just because he loved you. how could destiny not be real when it brought you to Jin? it was destiny that gave him the possibility of loving the most genuine soul in the entire universe; it was destiny that sculpted you from the same celestial magic that Jin was made of; it was destiny that united you with Jin life after life, for an eternity that would never end. “there is no doubt that destiny is real, because what other reason could explain this love i feel for you that seems to have existed for eternities?”

SOULMATE!JIN who asked the gods for an infinite eternity by your side. it wasn't too much to ask. Jin strongly believed that what he asked for was just a confirmation of your two essences. it wasn't a whim or a demand, it was just a reminder to the gods, so they would never forget that Jin's place was always, and forever, by your side. “if i have already loved you in past lives, i am sure that i will continue to love you for as many lives as we live. the gods are in our favor.”

[ambeauty]

Summary:

He realizes she hadn’t come back before disappearing. Fuck. He lets his body drop on their couch and squeezes his phone so hard between his palms like a stress ball. How’d he come to fuck ip his life so bad he had no idea. He had never been the brightest crayon in the box when it came to shit like love, Claire was so easy and he had to do almost nothing to get her. Sydney fucked him up so bad he felt losing her in the center of his chest. His breath began shortening and his eyes started to water as the panic set in. What had he done? Moments of his entire life with Claire and the expectations from everyone around him smothered him. It felt like bricks sitting on his chest and the only time he felt alive was with the little chef from Chicago. He gripped Sydney’s blanket that she left on the couch between his fingers. Bringing the soft fabric to his chest as uneven breaths released from his lungs. He inhaled slowly. Allowing her unmistakable scent of cocoa, vanilla, and lavender fill his senses until his breath evened. His mind cleared as he hugged the blanket tight to his chest. His choice was made. He picked up his phone and searched for the earliest flight to Chicago. 

Hi cousins!! We're in the endgame now! Enjoy Part 1 of 2 of the finale! Part 2 is already written so the wait won't be long for the actual conclusion!

tagging my cousins for showing me hella love during the wait: @sydneys-adamu @falllpoutboy @thehouseofevangelista @turbulenthandholding @anxietycroissant @devisrina

[medusapelagia]

Girls' Night [NSFW]

First of all a HUGE thanks to @dragonflylady77 that's the was super quick in beta reading this! And... this is my first wlw fic so I hope it's not a total disaster XD!

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Stevie Harrington/Billie Hargrove WT: wlw, genderbending, enemies to lovers, modern AU, college AU, roommates, strap on, cunnilingus, Billie uses pet names for Stevie, Billie is Stevie's gay awakening, fingers sucking Words: 6444

tagging those who were interested ;): @romeren, @idkevenknowwhattoput, @womp-womp-waa, @nikkitheseance

@akichania, @kiraixi, @bbygirlbilly @katyawriteswhump, @darleenjade

Read here or on AO3

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

God, her mom always said she wasn’t the brightest girl and she was right, as always.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The air is freezing and she’s walking around in a super short dress and high heels because Jonathan was supposed to drive her to the party, which he did, and drive her back, which he didn’t. Yeah, because Miss Stephanie Harrington, the richest girl on campus, managed to be dumped by the charity case Jonathan Byers, during a party, in front of half the college’s students. And to make things even worse, in front of Billie Hargrove and her boyfriend Tommy Hagan. The same Tommy that followed Stevie around for years.

Not that she’s jealous of Tommy. She never liked him, she’s fucking jealous of Billie.

Yeah, because, as if it wasn’t enough that Stevie’s personal life was wrecked in front of everyone, it should have happened in front of the hottest and cleverest girl in the entire school, the same one who sleeps on the other side of her room: Billie Hargrove.

Fuck.

Crossing her arms around her chest to warm herself a bit, Stevie keeps walking down the deserted street while she replays the entire night in her head again and again, trying to understand where she fucked up so badly. She asked her boyfriend to go to a stupid college party, what’s wrong with that? Would it have killed Jonathan to go to a party for once? She always went with him to see all those boring niche films with subtitles and never once she complained, but the one time she asked him to come with her, and he begrudgingly agreed to come, the night ended up with him accusing her of being too mundane and careless about the world, and then he left her at a party, alone, in high heels and clothes far too light for going home on foot. She should have probably called an Uber, but she felt too humiliated, and when Billie stepped toward her, looking at her with a mix of astonishment and compassion, she couldn’t stand it anymore, and she just fled like a thief.

That's how she found herself walking alone, at night, trying to get back to the dorm. Stevie's still deep into her thoughts when one of her heels gets stuck in a manhole. Perfect. Just fucking perfect. She tries to free herself, pulling her stuck foot free, but she loses her balance and falls onto the pavement, scratching her knee. For a moment her brain freezes, occupied with trying to understand how liking designer dress and an alternative guy brought her to sit on the ground, holding her bleeding knee and crying out loud like she broke a leg.

It’s just a scratch, Stevie should grab the fucking shoes and walk back to the dorm, but the world is ending right here and there, her heart is broken in so many pieces she feels she’ll never be able to fix it, and even if her leg isn’t broken, her knee hurts badly and it’s bleeding, and she doesn’t even have a fucking tissue because she chose a bag so small it barely fits her phone and her keys. She wipes her eyes, wondering how terrible she was in a previous life to be treated like this in this one.

Her mom never liked her. Stevie's legs are too long and muscular, her chest is too big, her smile is too wide, and she's not feminine enough for her mom’s liking. And her boyfriend dumped her because she’s too dumb to understand that her designer clothes are made by a brand that employs child labor in Bangladesh, wherever that stupid country is. And every lesson she’s attending is so fucking complicated that she spends all her time with books and tutors. But no matter how hard she tries to study and to make new friends, she’s always the rich girl whose father’s name is engraved on the new wing of the campus. And she’s definitely not living up to the expectations.

A car passes by, stops a few feet from her. After a few moments of awkward silence, the driver puts the car in reverse and stops right at Stevie’s side. The girl tries to avoid making eye contact with whoever might be in the car, she's already in deep shit and doesn't need to add being kidnapped to the list of bad things that happened today, but the voice that comes from the car sounds awfully familiar. 

“Harrington? Are you ok?”

God no. Please no. Everything but not this.

“Hey? Did you drink too much? Do you want me to drive you back to campus?”

“I’m fine,” Stevie replies, her eyes pinned on the pavement in front of her, trying desperately to maintain a little bit of dignity.

“Harrington, you’re sitting on the pavement, you’re bleeding and your lips are blue. Get in the car. Come on.” The blond woman in the car leans toward the passenger seat to open the passenger’s car door. When Stevie doesn’t move, she smirks, “I’m not going to bite you.”

“As if I care about that. Where’s Tommy?”

“I dumped him.”

“You what?” Stevie asks, turning toward her.

“Oh, Stevie…” the woman sighs, almost with sympathy. “Come on. Get in the car. It's fucking freezing and you’re dressed like a…”

“Like a slut. Thanks. I know. Jon already told me.”

“I was going to say like a princess, but that's not important. Get inside. Please.”

Stevie stares at Billie for the longest time. They have been roommates for two years and she never heard her use the word please. Not even once in two years. 

She tilts her head up to stop the tears, as her mother taught her, even if her makeup is already ruined, and gets up, limping a little before getting in the car and slamming the door closed just to piss Billie off. The other girl glowers at her and when she reaches out with her hand toward Stevie, the brunette instinctively flinches, moving closer to the door to avoid getting hit, but Billie is just turning on the heating.

“I don’t punch women, Harrington. Not even the bratty one who tries to damage my precious baby.” 

“Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Billie replies, her eyes on the street.

The air quickly warms up and Stevie lets out a little satisfied moan.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” she replies, still looking out of the window, “Thank you for picking me up, and sorry about the door.”

“What happened to your knee?”

“I fell.”

Billie turns toward her with a soft smile. “I get that, babydoll, I was wondering how bad it hurts.”

“Not too bad. But I need a tissue to stop the bleeding.”

“My bag is in the back, grab it, there should be a packet of tissue somewhere.”

“Your bag?”

Billie turns toward her confused. “Did you hit your head too, Harrington? Should I drive you to the hospital?”

Shaking her head, Stevie takes the bag from the back, staring at it for a long time before daring to open it and look inside. The bag is the most precious possession a woman has, it contains all her secrets, but Billie doesn’t seem to worry at the idea that Stevie will snoop around in her bag, so she roots around until she finds a little orange packet of tissues and takes one out to dab the cut on her knee. She hisses a little, cleaning the cut from the dirt.

“We should disinfect it as soon as we get back to the dorm.”

“We?”

Billie snorts. “I’m quite used to patching up people. Especially myself.”

“Oh, yeah. I almost forgot you are on the boxing team.”

“Yeah, that’s why.” Billie chuckles, and Stevie stares at her in confusion, feeling that there’s something she’s missing and feeling too dumb to understand what that is. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” Billie winks, before pointing at her bag. “Would you mind getting me a cigarette and lighting it up for me?”

“Lighting it up for you?”

“I’m driving, if you hadn’t noticed, I would prefer to avoid getting into an accident because I was trying to light up a cigarette, so what do you say?”

Stevie nods sheepishly. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course, Billie needs help lighting the cigarette. The fact is that Stevie isn’t really a smoker. She smoked some weed a couple of times with Jonathan, but cigarettes aren’t really her thing. Pretending to know what she’s doing, she gets a cigarette from a crumpled packet, holds it between her lips, clicks a silver zippo open, and breathes in while the cigarette starts to burn. And she immediately starts to cough, holding the cigarette between her fingers.

Billie bursts out in a loud laugh while she grabs the cigarette from Stevie's trembling fingers. “Let me guess, not really a smoker, huh? I should have known. It’s not good for polite girls like you to hold something in their mouth, huh?”

“Fuck you! I just don’t like it,” Stevie replies, still coughing.

“There’s a bottle of water in my bag.”

“Who the fuck are you? Mary Poppins?”

Billie lifts an eyebrow, dragging some smoke with deep calculated breaths before lowering the car window and putting her hand out to keep the cigarette out of the car. “I like to be prepared,” she simply states, while she keeps smoking and Stevie can’t avoid thinking that Billie’s lips are exactly where her own were a moment before, and when Billie turns toward her, she catches Stevie staring at her lips. 

“You sure you don’t need to go to a hospital? You seem a little bit out of it.”

“I’m fine.”

Billie gives her a crooked smile. “Yeah. Obviously. That’s why I had to pick you up from the fucking street, crying like a toddler.” 

“Fuck you! You didn’t have to! And if it pisses you off so much, pull over and I’ll get back on foot.”

“With those shoes? Those are inappropriate weapons, not a way to walk.”

“They complement my dress beautifully!” Stevie snarls.

“Your legs complement that dress beautifully,” Billie says, and for once it doesn't sound like a snarky comment. "But you would look hot even wearing a trash bag. I’m merely suggesting that you don’t want to jog back home in high heels, especially since one is broken.”

Stevie stares at her shoes and realizes that, when she fell, the heel broke. The red sole of the Louboutin seems to mock her. Those stupid shoes cost a fortune and they broke on the worst night of her life. Great. Absolutely great.

If only she hadn’t insisted on going to that stupid party.

“It’s all my fault.” She sighs, covering her eyes with her hands when she feels her eyes burning, “I shouldn’t have insisted.”

Billie scoffs but doesn't reply.

“I knew Jonathan hates to party. But I insisted. I wanted to go to a fucking college party! And for what? To be humiliated and dumped in front of everyone and walk my fucking walk of shame? Great job, Stevie. You aren’t even able to keep a stupid boyfriend. Mom will be so fucking proud of you.”

“Jonathan was an asshole, but he’ll think twice before doing something similar to another girl. I’m sure it is not enough to heal your bruised ego but trust me when I say he’s pretty bruised too.”

Turning to stare at Billie, Stevie notices that the skin of her knuckles is broken. “What have you done?”

“Gave him a lesson in gallantry,” Billie replies, taking another deep drag from her cigarette.

“You didn't have to.”

“Why not? He was an asshole. He treated you like garbage. You always followed him around like a faithful puppy. Whatever he wanted to do you were on board, and the only time you asked him to do something you wanted to do, he acted horrified because you wore the wrong designer dress? Fuck him. If he really cared about child labor, he would have said something before, maybe even told you about which brand to avoid or not. The truth is that he knows shit and he doesn’t give a fuck, all he wants is to show the others he cares about the environment when he drives a car that pollutes more than a fucking plant.”

“Why are you so angry? He just… He…”

“He treated you like shit in front of everyone! That’s why I’m so angry!” Billie snaps.

“You treat me like shit every single day,” Stevie replies with a self-deprecating smile.

“I don’t. I’m not all cotton candy and pink clouds like you, and I might not be the most effusive person on the planet, but I respect you and I would have never treated you like he did. Why the fuck did you get into a relationship with someone like him? He doesn’t get you! All he cared about was shaping you like he wanted and showing the world he could change you, and that’s horrible. You’re your own person. You have your tastes and your ideas! That’s what makes you!” Billie complains, punching the steering wheel.

“Why are you so angry? It’s not like he did something to you.”

“Because he did it to you!” Billie growls. “And you are my roommate.” she quickly adds.

Stevie looks at Billie with confusion, she never thought they were so close that Billie might have gotten upset at the idea of her being mistreated by her boyfriend, but Billie doesn’t explain herself, so Stevie tries to change the subject. “What happened between you and Tommy?”

“That fucking asshole? He told me I was fucking crazy for punching Jonathan in the face, and I told him that if he liked him so much he could fuck him instead of me. Not that it was a great loss anyway, he definitely has no idea where the clitoris is and his sexual prowesses are way worse than he tries to sell you.”

“Why were you in a relationship with him if you despised him so much?”

Billie lifts an eyebrow, taking her time before answering, “My father. Tommy’s family is rich and well known, nothing better for his waste of a daughter.” Billie then takes a turn so sharp that Stevie’s body gets dragged toward Billie’s, and for a moment her shoulder bumps into Billie’s arm.

“Sorry,” Stevie mutters, trying to grab the handle inside the passenger door.

“My fault. I was going too fast.”

“You like to drive fast.” 

“I do. I love the adrenaline. I used to dream of becoming a Formula One driver when I was a kid. But guess what? I’m a fucking woman. So my father signed me up for ballet classes. Ballet. Me. Can you imagine?”

Billie’s tights are massive, and Stevie can’t really imagine her on her toes dancing the Nutcracker.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“For your father. I know what it means to have someone that forces you to be different from what you are. I have been on a diet since I was a kid. I was always too much. Too big. Too tall. Too strong. Too noisy. Nothing I did was good enough for my mom. I played volleyball for years but my passion is basketball.” Stevie says, wrapping a lock of hair around her fingers. “Jonathan was the first choice I made on my own. Mom hated him from the first moment I told her about him, but I wanted to try something different. A man dedicated to doing something for the planet seemed like a good option. And maybe I even thought that he wasn’t going to leave me because where else would he have found another dumb rich girl? But it seems that he really didn’t care about the money.”

Billie reaches out and takes Stevie’s hand, “I’m sorry babydoll. He’s an asshole and he doesn't deserve you.”

“That’s what my Nonna used to say, but I’m starting to think that if no one deserves me, maybe that’s really something wrong with me. Why am I like this? Why can't I be like the other girls? I would pay good money to be just the rich dumb bitch everyone thinks I am… but I have feelings and I can’t hide them.”

“It’s a good thing, Stevie. You really care about people. I like that.”

“Yeah? Well, I fucking hate it. People step on my heart like it’s nothing and I just keep smiling politely, begging them to take another piece of my soul, and then I’m left with holes everywhere.”

“You need to find the right person. They’ll fill all your holes, and not only the one in your soul.” Billie winks, throwing the cigarette butt out of the window.

“You’re so gross,” Stevie replies, blushing.

Billie chuckles, parking the car, and getting to Stevie’s side before she can’t even open the door. “Do you think you can walk to the dorm or do you need me to carry you?”

“I can walk! It’s just a scratch!” 

Billie hums and puts Stevie’s arm around her shoulders and the two of them limp toward the dorm. Luckily, they don’t meet anyone in the parking lot or in the corridors, and when they finally get back to their room, Stevie plops on her bed with a loud moan, but her relief is short-lived because Billie drags her toward the edge of the bed, a red emergency kit in her hands. She takes a chair and gently lifts Stevie’s calf, putting Stevie’s foot on her leg.

“It’s not too bad. We just have to clean it with some antiseptic and put a nice tight bandage on it. No doggy style for at least a week.” Billie winks, holding Stevie’s foot when she tries to escape from her tight grip.

“Not that I have anyone to have sex with anyway,” Stevie replies, blushing even more.

“You never know. I’m sure that as soon as the campus finds out that you are single, there will be a line out of our door.”

“I doubt that. Everyone saw how stupid I was.”

“Everyone saw how rude Jonathan was. You were just having some fun,” Billie retorts, cleaning the cut with some peroxide pads. When Stevie hisses, Billie lowers her head and gently blows on the broken skin. “Better?”

Stevie doesn’t trust her voice so she nods, remaining as still as she can.

“Such a good patient. I might give you a lollipop once we are done,” Billy replies when she starts to wrap her knee.

“I don’t need it. It’s just a scratch.”

“Who’s the doctor?”

“No one? You’re no doctor!” Stevie chuckles.

“Fine, smartass, I’m no doctor, but I’m sure I have cleaned more cuts than you. So shut up and let me work my magic, okay?”

Stevie nods, feeling a little cramp in her stomach. The good kind of cramp. The kind she gets when she feels excited. Billie’s warm hands are gentle and softer than she thought.

“So no more Tommy, Stevie murmurs.

“No more Tommy.”

“You don’t look desperate.”

“Because I’m not. I already have eyes on someone else, and now that they are single too, I might even get my chance.”

“Oh… were they in a relationship?”

“Yeah. A shitty one.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Well, I wish you luck. Whoever they are, they'll be lucky to have you.”

“Do you really think so? I’m not exactly a catch. I work three minimum wage jobs to pay for my studies and I have a bad temper.”

“You don’t have a bad temper.” 

Billie quirks an eyebrow.

“Ok, you have a bad temper. But you’re not a bad person. You’re just passionate.”

“Passionate? I like that.” Billie chuckles, lifting Stevie’s foot, but then she stops, looking at the other girl in the eyes, holding the ball of her foot.

“Billie?” Stevie asks, trembling.

Without breaking eye contact, Billie bends down and kisses the sole of her foot and Stevie’s stomach cramps again.

“What… what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“You… you kissed my foot.”

“I did. And I would like to kiss more of you. Would you like that?”

Stevie never thought about it, but now that Billie is sitting between her legs, staring at her with her icy blue eyes, all she can think about is that she would like it very much. But Billie is a girl, and they shouldn’t.

“Are you gay?” Stevie asks, biting her lips. She has seen Billie walking around with girls before but never suspected that she was gay. And she had Tommy.

“Bi. And if you want it, I’d like very much to fuck you.” Billie replies, harsh and honest as she always is, and Stevie feels a familiar warmth move from her stomach to the folds between her legs.

“What? How?”

“There are ways. Many ways. Do you know that black box I asked you not to touch? It might contain a few toys. And my strap-on.”

“Your… oh god. Oh god. You have…  Did you… Did you fuck someone in our room?” Stevie asks, covering her mouth as if those words were too much for her.

“Of course I did, Stevie. How could I not? I have lived two years with you: a fucking goddess, sleeping on the other side of my room! There’s only a finite amount of masturbation you can enjoy before starting to need something more. And I wanted and needed something more. Something I never dared to ask you. But tonight, when you looked at me in the car, I felt it. I felt the electricity. Tell me, am I wrong, Stevie?”

No, she’s not. Stevie’s sex is throbbing with excitement.

Staring with no shame at Stevie's pink thong, Billy murmurs, “Your thong is soaked, baby. Do you want me to do something about it?”

Stevie tries to cover herself with her hands, both aroused and ashamed at the surprising turn the night has taken. Less than an hour ago, she was crying on the pavement, and now Billie is looking at her with hunger and desire, and Stevie really doesn't know what to do. And there’s her little problem too. The one she’s never told anyone.

“I... I can’t.” she mutters, and Billie tilts her head in confusion.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I… I can’t come. Okay? I’m… I’m broken. And you’ll get bored and then you’ll be mean to me, and we still have two years to spend together and…”

Billie gently lays Stevie’s foot on the ground and sits next to her, grabbing her chin and turning her head toward herself, “What are you saying?”

“I have… Jonathan said I should have gone to see a doctor because I’m not normal. I… have never… not even alone,” Stevie tries to explain.

“Let me get this right: the shitty boyfriend who publicly humiliated you, told you that you have some kind of illness because you never had an orgasm?”

“Yeah…”

“Should have punched him even harder,” Billie mutters, her piercing blue eyes fixed Steve’s caramel ones. “The only problem you have is a boyfriend too selfish to dedicate enough time to your necessities. I’m sure we can fix this. And even if we can’t, I don’t care, okay? I’ll keep going down on you until you’ll beg me to stop. And if you are into it, I will keep going even then. I want to bury my head between your thighs, hold you open with my fingers, and eat you out until you’re screaming in pleasure. But first, I’d like to kiss you.”

Stevie loves kisses, but Jonathan never took enough time to kiss her, his kisses were sloppy and quick. Not an appetizer, just something he wanted to get rid of quickly.

“I’d love to kiss you. Can I?” Billie asks again and the only thing Stevie can do is nod.

“Please…”

“You’re made to beg, sweet girl, ideally kneeling at my feet, but this should wait a bit.” Billie chuckles, cradling the back of Stevie’s head before kissing her, nibbling at her lower lip, pulling it with her teeth before releasing it and making it bounce back. Billie cradles Stevie’s face between her hands while exploring her mouth with her tongue, and Stevie tastes the cheap punch in Billie’s mouth. She doesn’t know how long Billie kisses her for, but when she steps back and they lock eyes, she sees that Billie’s flustered and her lips are red from Stevie’s lipstick. 

Studying Billie’s face, Stevie feels hot and needy like she never felt before. Stevie brushes her thumb on Billie’s plump lips and the blond girl quickly catches it and starts to suck it. No one has ever sucked Stevie’s fingers, but the feeling of the rough tongue on her sensitive fingertips makes her shiver, jolting her hips to get some friction.

“You’re so needy. Did Jonathan treat you so badly? Didn’t he know what a treasure he was gifted?” Billie asks, getting closer, and their chests brush against each other, making Stevie shiver. Even under the clothes, Stevie’s nipples are hard and sensitive.

Billie quickly lowers the neckline of Stevie’s dress, freeing one of her rounded tits from the constriction of the expensive garment. Her soft skin has a long indented line made by the seam of her bra. 

“Poor thing. Did it hurt?” Billie asks, smiling like a wolf, “Did the bad bra hurt you? Or did it brush against your nipples just right? Sending shivers down your spine?” The blond girl licks her thumb and then starts to rub at Stevie’s nipple before pinching it hard enough to make Stevie whimper. The dark pink rosebud becomes even darker while Billie licks the long column of Stevie’s neck.

When she finally frees Stevie’s nipple, the girl moans loudly at the feeling of the blood rushing back.

“So sensitive,” Billie praises her, whispering in her ear. “How could Jonathan say that you’re frigid?” She chuckles.. “You’re so wet I could just slide into you and make it my home.” 

A shudder goes through Stevie’s body, while Billie’s right hand drops to Stevie’s knee, brushing gently against the inside of it, before moving up to her inner thigh. Tickling her.

Billie’s hands are calloused but gentle while they pet her, moving slowly but relentlessly toward the top of her legs. When she gets to Stevie’s thong’s elastic band, she stops, making swirls on the sensitive skin that connects her thigh to her sex.

“Is this ok?” Billie asks on Stevie’s lips, and Stevie nods, spreading her legs even further.

In the back of her mind, a voice that sounds like Jonathan’s calls her a slut, but she doesn’t care. Billie has shown her more kindness tonight than Jonathan in a year and a half.

“So needy. You’re so wet, baby. Is this all for me?” Billie whispers, making the words roll on her tongue, purring like a big cat. Or maybe a tiger.

Stevie nods, and her half-closed eyes widen when Billie spreads her labia with her fingers, and the fabric of the thong brushes against Stevie’s swollen clitoris. One finger gently slides under the thong and strokes her opened labia, taking Stevie’s breath away. A few more strokes and then Billie’s finger leaves the warm nest between Stevie’s legs and ends up in Billie’s mouth. Billie sucks on it, looking Stevie in the eyes. It’s so intimate and so hot. Stevie should close those stupid legs and push her away, preserving whatever is left of her honor, but Billie’s looking at her like she was the most succulent meal she had ever had, licking her lips with her pointy tongue. How come Stevie never noticed how pointy her tongue is?

“You taste so good. Can I have more? Pretty please?”

Billie’s tone is clearly mocking, but god, Stevie wants her mouth on her, so she grabs her pink thong and slides it down, revealing a perfectly shaved pussy. 

Grabbing the elastic band with both hands, Billie helps her out of it. 

“You want to lie on the bed for this,” she suggests.

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to eat you out for hours, and I don’t want you to get tired. You’re a pillow princess, aren’t you?”

That’s not true. Stevie has put the work in it when needed, but if Billie’s going to worship her, she won’t complain.

She quickly strips off the tight dress she was wearing, revealing a matching bra that is still cupping one of her breasts, while the other is dangling, the pink fabric crumpled under it. With a smooth movement, Billie unhooks her bra, which falls on Stevie’s thighs like a big pink feather.

Billie crawls on the bed, pushing Stevie toward the head of the bed and boxing her head between her elbows.

She stops just a few inches from Stevie’s mouth, waiting for her decision and Stevie doesn’t make her wait for long. She grabs Billie’s hair and yanks her towards herself, taking control of the kiss. If there’s something Stevie can do is kiss, and when Billie lets out a little moan, she feels really satisfied. But her satisfaction doesn’t last long, because Billie frees herself from her tight grip and grabs Stevie’s wrists, pinning her hands above her head.

“Are you going to behave?” Billie asks, “Are you going to keep your hands out of the way, letting me do what I want?”

“Are you going to make me behave?” Stevie asks with a mischievous smile.

Billie’s fingers brush over Stevie’s inner thigh. 

“I know that all this brattiness is just an act. You want to be a good girl. You want to be praised and cared for, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” Billie whispers before kissing her again. Just a peck. A gentle brush of lips against lips. “Be good, huh?” she says before diving between Stevie’s legs.

The first touch of Billie’s tongue feels like electricity and Stevie tries to close her legs, but Billie’s broad shoulders prevent her from moving too much. Billie lifts her eyes, staring at Stevie, and her pink tongue flickers again, brushing against Stevie’s clit. Stevie grabs the wooden head of her bed, holding to it to avoid moving her arms.

“Good girl,” Billie praises her, spreading the folds of her sex with her fingers before starting to lap at her again.

Stevie moans at the feeling that has nothing to do with what Jonathan used to do. He used to touch her with no patience, trying to open her quickly and efficiently, while Billie is definitely taking her time. She bites the soft skin on the inside of her thigh, while she penetrates her with a finger, and the sudden sting of pain makes her flinch.

“Sorry, couldn’t hold back,” The blond girl replies, lapping at Stevie again, moving her pointy tongue up and down, side to side, sucking at her swollen clit.

“It’s too much. It’s too much,” Stevie whines, her legs trembling like a newborn deer around Billie’s head. The girl lifts her head just enough to get a good look at Stevie. She’s still holding tight at the head of the bed like a good girl, so Billie keeps going down on her, pumping her fingers inside Stevie’s pussy faster and faster, while Stevie moans gibberish and squeezes her eyes.

That’s what her first orgasms feel like: like it was squeezed out of her, she thinks while all her spasming muscles relax, her hands release the grip on the head of the bed and she melts on the sheets like fresh snow.

Billie keeps fucking her with her fingers through the aftershock of her orgasm, slowly slowing down the pace, then she cleans her mouth with the back of her hand and crawls toward Stevie’s face.

“You ok?” Billie asks softly, her blonde hair curled by the sweat on her forehead.

Stevie nods, unable to talk, and Billie grins. “See? Nothing wrong with you. You orgasmed just fine.”

Stevie slaps her, trying to shut her up, but she’s so uncoordinated that Billie easily stops her hand.

“Do you want to stop or do you want to keep going?”

Keep going? How?

Stevie blushes remembering the comment about the strap-on and her legs shiver.

“Would you like that? Would you like me to fuck you with my dick till you’re a moaning mess?”

Stevie’s cheeks burn while she nods, but she just had the first orgasm of her life and she wants more. She’s greedy like that.

Moving like a cat in the semi-darkness, Billie opens her closet and grabs a black box. Inside there’s a black adaptable harness and a few toys.

“Which one would you like, Princess?” Billie asks, showing her her dildos. Stevie grabs a black one, confused by the little tube on the side.

“That’s for ejaculation,” Billie explains, “Do you want to be filled with my cum?”

It’s so nasty. Girls don’t talk about ejaculation. But Billie is so confident and Stevie is wondering how it would feel for Billie to fill her with her cum, but then her eyes see a purple dildo. Her favorite color. It’s thinner than the black one but longer.

“This one?” Billie asks and Stevie nods quietly. 

“Great choice.” Billie winks, grabbing it and the harness. Billie quickly strips out of her tight jeans and her red shirt, remaining in a pair of red boxers with a huge wet stain on her groin. 

“You did that, baby. Are you proud of yourself?”

Stevie’s mouth feels immediately dry like the Sahara while she stares at the girl,  keeping her boxers on she adjusts her harness and pours a huge quantity of lube on her dick.

“Next time I’ll ask you to make it wet. But I want you on your knees while you suck my dick, so it’ll have to wait. Sadly.” She grins, spreading Stevie’s legs even farther and making herself comfortable between Stevie’s legs one more time. She strokes her dick, brushing it against Stevie‘s hole before starting putting it.

Billie’s dick is hard and a little bit cold, but she definitely knows how to use it. Stevie’s legs instinctively wrap around Billie’s waist, the ball of her feet digging into Billie’s back, urging her closer and closer.

“Just like that. Look how well you’re taking me,” Billie praises her while her dick opens Stevie like a flower.

Once Billie is seated comfortably inside her, she kisses Stevie, deeply and hungrily  before she starts to move. Her pace varies between deep and fast thrusts, and slow and strong ones, in a crescendo that makes them both moan loudly.

“Touch yourself,” Billie begs, “Touch yourself while I fuck you.”

Stevie nods, but instead of sucking her own fingers, she pushes them inside Billie’s devil's mouth and the woman immediately starts to suck them, making them wet with her spit.

Once Stevie starts to touch herself, she’s a goner. A few more trusts and she’s coming, screaming, but Billie quickly puts her lips on Stevie’s mouth, eating every moan directly from the source.

Billy holds her closer and keeps moving inside her while Stevie’s hips jolt against her out of her control.

“Look at you. Not bad for a girl who allegedly can’t come,” Billie whispers, kissing her cheeks.

When the waves of pleasure finally slow down and let her breathe, Stevie asks, “What about you?”

“You don’t have to reciprocate, babydoll. That’s not how it works, even if someone made you think it was,” Billie chuckles.

“What if I… what if I want to?” Stevie murmurs, blushing with embarrassment and biting her lower lip.

“You sure?”

Stevie nods, and Billy smiles.

“You could eat me out if you want to.”

“I… I want to but I have never done it before.”

“I can teach you. Would you like me to tell you what to do?” 

Stevie never nodded so quickly in her life. 

“Okay. Okay. That’s what we are going to do. I’m going to ride your face. We don’t want to hurt that pretty knee of yours, do we?” 

Stevie shakes her head, her eyes wide with excitement, while Billie removes her harness and her soaked boxers.. 

“Stick your pretty tongue out for me,” Billie asks, and Stevie immediately complies.

Billie moves swiftly, getting above Stevie’s face and it’s the first time Stevie sees a pussy that’s not hers so closely. Billie’s is different from hers: first of all, it is surrounded by a mass of blond curls that tickle her face, her labia are longer and pinker than hers and her scent is musky. Stevie can’t wait to taste her first pussy, so she tries to reach out for it.

“Calm down. We don’t want you to strain your neck. I plan on riding your face for a long time,” Billie chuckles, lowering herself onto Stevie’s face. 

As soon as Billie’s sex is within  reachable distance Stevie gives it a first shy lap. The taste on her tongue is metallic and spicy, almost intoxicating, and she laps it again, moaning. 

“You enjoying yourself baby?” Billie asks, with a satisfied smirk. “More?”

“Please.”

“So polite. If I had known that a taste of pussy would make you so soft, I would have hit on you sooner, pretty girl.” The blond woman chuckles. But her laugh quickly turns into a series of soft moans while Stevie keeps lapping at her sex, probing inside with her tongue as if her life depended on it.

Stevie sucks, licks, and nibbles, eager to give pleasure to the woman that just gave her the first two orgasms of her life.

“Stevie…” Billie moans, grinding harder against Stevie’s mouth. 

Stevie grabs Billie’s muscular tights, holding so tight as to leave bruises, keeping her pinned on her face until she feels the other woman squirm in pleasure, her mouth flooded with Billie’s juices.

“Fuck!” Billie moans, collapsing at Stevie’s side. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” Stevie asks, disappointed, and Billie pinches her chin and turns Stevie’s face towards her.

“Best fuck I had in a long time,” she tells her, looking into her eyes.

“What now?” Stevie asks, feeling unsure.

“Now we clean up and we sleep. And tomorrow we’ll talk,” Billie promises her, and Stevie finds the courage to snuggle up to Billie, kissing her shoulder.

Billie turns around, moving Stevie's head on her chest, just above her beating heart.

“Tired?” she whispers.

“Yeah,” Stevie replies, trying to suffocate a yawn.

“Sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” Billie murmurs into her hair, and Stevie falls asleep with a big smile on her face.

[gullableh]

IM GAY FOR YOU

Warnings : male reader, he/him pronounce.

Karasu is a simp. Ooc ( I tried my best) 

Not proofread (it's late and I made this in a hurry please don't hate me)

Kinda slow-burn-ish

Reader is from a different country

Time takes place before blue lock

(C/n) = country name

I have no clue what happened to the pov

I guess this is in karasu's pov.

lazy writing, I was making this in a hurry (again)

Rushed.

I tried my best😓

You

Karasu

★

★

★

★

★

★

★

★

Karasu was not gay by any means. He never found guys attractive, he never thought romantically about a man, and he never had a relationship with a guy. And he wasn't planning on it

Well... He wasn't planning on it untill he saw you.

You the foreign exchange student, who just travelled from (c/n) to Japan. 

You who looked so pretty and surreal. Prettier than any girl he ever saw.

You who spoke so cutely in Japanese while trying you're best to introduce yourself Infront of the class.

You who had the most ethereal eyes he had ever locked eyes on

You who gently smiled towards him as the both of you held eye contact

You who sat next to him, sparking a conversation, while having the brightest smile, And the most uplifting personality he's ever seen in a person

Karasu who at that moment fell in love with you, without even knowing it. 

----------★------------

"Hello, I hope you don't mind me sitting next to you"

Y/n said with a soft smile on his face, as he directed his attention towards karasu. Looking towards karasu 

"I'm y/n, as I said earlier. And you are?..."

Y/n asked still looking at karasu with curiosity.

Karasu who was lost in his thoughts, karasu who was wondering what he had done so good in his past life, to deserve an ethereal being like y/n even sparing a glimpse towards him.

He was so caught up in his mind and his thought's that it took him a little while before you're words registered through his brain.

In a panick after realizing he probably looked like a creep while staring at you and saying nothing, he imidiatly answered.

"Uh..uhm k-karasu tobito"

FUCK he screwed up, his voice was high, way higher than he expected, and not only that but he had also stumbled over his words. Still to shocked about you. He just embarrassed himself Infront of you, no big deal. This will only haunt karasu for the rest of his life nothing big. 

Karasu face slowly went red as he realized how embarrassing he must've sounded. God he sounded so mediocre. 

Karasu again was lost in his thoughts, drowning himself further into his own embarrassment, untill a sudden angelic like laugh pulled him out of his thoughts and directed his attention towards the owner of the laugh. 

You. You where laughing so prettily too, covering youre mouth with you're hand trying to muffle you're laughter.

Normally he would feel irritated or annoyed whenever he would get laughed at.

But with you.

With you it was a complete different story.

With you, you could practically stab him in the back with that kind smile on you're face. And he wouldn't even get angry.

He would be to mesmerized by you're beauty 

"Sorry..pff sorry... It's nice to meet you karasu."

Y/n said while clearing their throat midway their sentence. A kind smile still lingering on his face. Karasu could stare hours and hours to you, and he would never get bored by you're beauty.

"Yeah, nice to meet you too, y/n"

Karasu mumbled out, thankfully this time, his voice didnt sound like a high school girls voice. And he again didn't stutter. Oke this is good, he just need to act cool like this, and not make another mistake easy. 

The moment after that flew by to fast for karasu, the entire time he wasn't even paying attention to class. He was either thinking about you, or sneaking little glances you're way. 

Karasu was thankfully for his kean eye. 

As he could notice everything about you.

the way you would doodle on you're notebook, the way you would flick you're pen whenever you didn't understand a certain subject or problem. The way you're eyes would sparkle whenever you saw something interesting or something had peaked you're interest.

Karasu was taking all of this information up. 

He wanted to know you, talk to you, have a conversation with you again. But something stopped him.

Normally karasu without difficulty could easily be interactive if he pleased to (wich he doesn't) but with you. Something was holding him back.

Was he afraid?...how mediocre.

---------★-------

A few months has passed since y/n had moved to Japan. And these weird feelings haven't gone since. Actually karasu thinks they've even gotten worse.

Everytime he thinks about you, his stomach is filled with butterfly's. Whenever he even sees a glimpse of you, his entire face turns red.

Karasu wondered what these feelings where.

Perhaps he was sick. Or you just had captured his attention. Karasu thought that these 'feelings' would eventually pass away. And things would turn back to normal.

But it didn't. And I don't think these feelings will pas away any time soon.

For some reason, you where stuck in his mind. Glued to his thoughts, all he could think about was you and you're beautiful smile. 

Eventually he started asking around, what this exactly was. Why was he feeling these type of things. He even went so far to ask from his sister.

And in the end, these weird emotions where just feelings for you. He was...I love with you.

So.. is karasu indeed gay? He didn't know and honestly he didn't care about his sexuality at the moment, all he could think was you. You. you. you.

You.

God he was such a mediocre, fool Inlove.

-------------★------------

"Oh hey karasu, is there something you wanted to tell me?"

Months after he had figured out his feelings for you, he had finally gathered enough courage to go and confess to you.

Yesterday, after a quick peptalk with his sister, he had decided to do it. 'Better do it now, than regret later' where his sister's words to be exact.

The entire morning was hazy, it went by to fast. All he could remember is waking up *blink* and suddenly he was on his way to school. 

Noon also went by quickly, but this time his mind and thoughts where filled with, what ifs. Or possibilities.

What if you didn't even like guys.

What if you would think karasu is weird

What if you never wanted to talk to him again?

It disturbed karasu quite a lot. But nonetheless he had made a decision. And he isn't mediocre enough to flunk out on his own promise. 

And then finally the end of the day arrived. The time where he's going to confess. To tell you everything. Everything he wanted to say to you. Everything he wants to know about you. He wants to tell you everything.

"Yeah, I did. It was kinda important, that's why I had to drag you out here."

Karasu jokes trying to calm himself before spilling everything, a small chuckle escaped

 y/n lips. God he was perfect, was the only thing karasu could think.

"Well what's so important then?"

You, is what karasu wanted to say. But he didn't instead he opted to taking a deep breathe and straight up tell you. There was no reason for him to hide it any longer. And he won't.

"I don't want to waste you're time, so I'll say it straight away."

Karasu looked towards y/n with sincerity. 

"I have had feelings for you, ever since I saw you. You kept clouding my thought's and I couldn't get you out of my head."

"I hope this won't change anything between us. I just wanted to get this out of the way."

It was quiet, y/n hadn't uttered a word out ever since, karasu would be lying if he didn't say that he was nervous.

But then, he saw the slight pink red colour adorning on y/n's face, and at that moment karasu felt hope. Perhaps he might like him back?

"I guess we had the same idea."

Y/n laughed out lowly. His face was covered in blush. 

"I like you too karasu".

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

Tags: @milaisreading, @plsmarrymepablocavasoz, @jujutsustraycats

If you couldn't tell, I love it when men are head over heels for someone, to the point they cant even function properly 🤭

[parkermunson]

can you write a one shot based off the song Someone That You're With by Nickleback ? with a happy ending please?

Hi Babe, I've literally never heard this song but it's really good and those lyrics had me thinkin' thoughts about needy, yearning Eddie 👀

That's for another time though, I kept this SFW. Didn't want to get crazy with this. It's not exactly long, I hope that's okay.

I Wanna Be That Someone That You're With

T/W: None! Fluffy at the end! Reader has hair thats at least shoulder length, and wears a skirt. [800 words]

Eddie stared through the peephole at the possible love of his life leaving her apartment for the third time this week. Your hair gliding around your shoulders, skirt twisting and bouncing as your turned to lock your door. The scent of your perfume wafting through the crack under Eddie's door, dancing it's way up to his head. His hand gripped the handle of his apartment door so tight the old knob started creaking. He wanted to crash through his door and proclaim him feelings but fucking Chuck from down the hall already called your attention.

That's okay, he'll wait. He's good at waiting, he waited years to move out of Hawkins. What's a day?

It'd been a few weeks since you moved in and the building was already buzzing from your presence. Everyone was enamored, practically lining up outside your door just for a simple smile. It took Eddie some time to get your attention when you weren't fighting off the crowd of admirers. Or staying out incredibly late, coming home when the sun was just about to rise. You were beautiful, and the attention was well-deserved, but god, he wished you were staying out late with him. Talking to him, kissing him, touching him.

Eddie called your apartment phone the day after you moved in, leaving a voicemail with his number, and slipped in an "across the hall bachelor" at the end, just in case. He held onto the phone the entire night but it never rang. You were probably busy unpacking, he figured. When his phone finally rang, he bolted to it in such a rush he nearly threw it across the room. Your voice was even better than he imagined, and you mentioned he's always welcome to drop by for anything.

So Eddie started knocking on your door for little things: cup of sugar, ice, bandaids, tape. He had all of these sitting right across the hall in his apartment but it was the only time he ever had the chance to talk to you. And it was a gift each time. The conversation never got deep before you were being called by an admirer, but he cherished them nonetheless.

He started remembering interests you had, and made sure to give you a little gift everytime he returned what he borrowed. Your face would warm to the brightest pinks, and Eddie wanted to burn that image into his eyelids so he could smile at it everyday. His heart fluttered when he saw you leave your apartment wearing a dinky bracelet he got you, but then he realized you were leaving for another date.

You were rarely home. He knew this from the amount of times he had to tell some love-struck stranger knocking down your door to scram. When you were home, you'd make a habit of dropping your keys on the hallway floor, most likely from exhaustion, Eddie thought. Within minutes he'd be at your door asking for something. It was a habit you and him were falling into. And despite the hectic social life you were thrown into, it was something you looked forward to most.

By the fourth week, Eddie had cooked a full meal and invited you over. Conversation was easy with him, and you felt at home for the first time in your new building. But your phone wouldn't stop ringing, and the knocking on your door was only getting more frequent. You bid him goodnight and left after an hour.

Two weeks later, you knocked on his door in the middle of the night. "I pulled the phone out of my wall," you greeted him the moment he opened the door.

"..O-okay?"

"You can't call me anymore." His heart sunk. He overdid it. All those conversations, the dinner. He was about to apologize when you broke in, "too many people weren't getting the hint."

"You seem popular. The calls, the visitors. Leaving every night." He never had a chance. He was one in a thousand fighting for your attention, and he wasn't even close to winning it.

"Yeah. I thought not answering my calls would give them an answer. But then they started showing up to my door, so I'd leave and hide out at a shop down the street. But it's been weeks, and they really don't quit!"

He paused for a moment, taking in the information word for word. "So you weren't... going out with anyone?" His voice rose in pitch the more hope he gained. His chest buzzing with excitement.

"No. I'm only interested in one person. But he's hopelessly forgetful. Constantly banging on my door to borrow something." You smirked at him, watching as the blush grew over his cheeks. He looked down at his feet, giving into the smile creeping across his lips before he was beaming at you.

"Maybe he could take you out for real sometime? How's Friday?"

"As long as you don't forget."

[moongumi]

under our moonlight¹

pairing: khonshu x reader

⟶ cw. age-gap (lol), uni!au, avatar!reader, soft khonshu, smut

sypnosis: khonshu feels a certain way about his young avatar

⟶ wc. 1.8k

a/n: hii i couldn’t stop thinking about khonshu so here it is!! this was posted first on ao3 and will be onwardsss. the italics means khonshu is speaking inside your head whilst if dialogue means he’s actually talking outloud but of course only you can hear him anyways but for plot its what it is for now!! the structures kinda broken idk it uploaded weird but hope you enjoy!!!

part 1 // part 2 // part 3

It wasn’t very easy to focus on writing this essay that you had due tomorrow, especially not if you had left it last moment and definitely not when you have a dead pigeon scowling at you as you ignored him.

His voice boomed through your head every second you had any thought of your own, he just kept interrupting all the focus and thoughts you had.

I’m serious, we must make haste. You sighed, rubbing your head. You continue to ignore him. You cannot ignore me all night, you are my moon knight, this is our deal.

You groan, throwing off your headphones against your couch. The music that could be heard from it echoed softly, and the bird looks at it with a tilted head.

“Couldn’t we just halt it for one night? You told me I could still live a normal life, this is a part of that normal life you promised me.” 

Khonshu, the skully bird that you owed your life to scoffs, “Even if this thing you call an education of yours is a part of your normal life, the expectations of an avatar bestows it, above all else, you must devote yourself.”

You can’t roll your eyes much more, staring at the god who barely fit his head in your small apartment. He crouches slightly, his head nearly hits the roof and his staff is held at an angle. His cloak and bandages flow through non-existent wind, it is rather distracting.

He seemed unwilling to budge, you were used to it.

“Fine, can you wait thirty minutes?” You bargained, “Just thirty, okay?”

The God sighs, Sure, but do not make me wait much longer.

Khonshu practically breathes down your neck the entire time, down to every last second. The bird didn’t know much about personal space.

☆.・゜゜・*. * ·✧*. * ·★.・゜゜・✰

The next day you felt awfully sore, your body was so goddamn sore. The ceremonial suit healed enough of your body but you couldn’t stay in it long enough, you were too tired and fell asleep. Now you were at your early shift working in a small cafe, having to put the brightest smile on your face right now as you mopped the floors.

“Right,” Your manager walked by calling out your name, “We’re one short today so you guys are going to have a handful of work, they’re on the board so, that’s all I have for you.”

Great, seems like a lot of people were calling in sick this week and well, taking their goddamn holidays at any sign of sunlight but then again, people do take advantage of England's lack of sun but fuck, an indie cafe on the streets of London was bound to be popular, especially as a niche shop with barely any seats. It didn’t matter much, most people just take their drinks to go─for some reason even though it would be much cheaper and faster somewhere like Costa but maybe it was the cute cup sleeves.

“Well fuck me,” Your shift partner groans, she leans on the top of her broom, “Hopefully they don’t ask us to work overtime, again!”

You laugh. 

“Surely wouldn’t be a bad thing, I thought you enjoyed working?” You said jokingly.

She places a finger on her lips, “Hush, I only say that to impress him.” She was referring to the manager that had just come by, she did after all have the hugest crush on him.

A presence behind you couldn’t ignore, why was he here? Right now. You turned to face him, trying your hardest to not yell at him right now, no one else sees him but you and well, you didn’t want to seem like a crazy person.

“Khonshu, I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t come to my job.” You whispered to yourself, knowing he could hear you. The dead bird hums, looking around the room with his huge head bouncing about. His heavy feet and staff against the ground could only be felt and heard by you. His bandages wrapped around your arms slightly as he brushed past you to stare at your friend.

His beak almost touches her, and she flinches when he teleports back towards you, “Huh, did he just turn the ac on? It’s far too cold for ac today.”

“Maybe?” You answered quickly feeling uneasy, confused as to what Khonshu was trying to do. “I’ll check.”

She thanks you as you basically run off towards the counters, pretending to press buttons on the touchscreen heat control. Hoping that the God that has you wrapped around his fingers would come too.

“What are you doing?” You asked, looking at him as he leans against the drinks station, brushing his fingers against the coffee machines. 

Khonshu hums, his voice echoes out of his throat, “I was curious as to what my avatar gets to in the daytime, the time I never see her.”

You sigh, placing a hand on your hips, “I work, Khonshu. It’s either work or school, do you think I go around selling drugs or something?”

Khonshu sighs, “No.”

He’s direct, but quick with his words even though a lot of it was vague and confusing to you. A ding signals a customer and you pushed past his large frame, the cold and wrapped up body burned under your warm touch but you didn’t know that only he felt it. 

Khonshu watches you. He watches his small avatar do her mundane tasks. His large body leans back on the counter, he sees you from behind as you served a customer. A young guy, your age, and attractive. He smiles for far too long, and practically giggles as you spoke. 

You asked if he wanted any cookies or cakes, and he smiles asking you what you would recommend. Khonshu recognized this pattern, the flirting that all his other avatars had been through, experienced, or done themselves. This happened a lot to his very beautiful avatar and you always turned them down but for some reason, Khonshu felt a discomfort watching you smile and play along with his vile intentions.

Little bird, give that man his coffee before I make him drink it through a hole in his stomach. He sees you flinch, you turn to scowl at him and he feels good about it. You did as he said, taking the man’s money and making his drink as the man stands and awaits his drink.

You moved back to take the coffee grinds and put them in the machine, smacking Khonshu’s thigh as he was in the way which made the God move but he still stays sat, his large beak brushing some of your hair. Must he stand and watch your every move, I will take his eyes and feed them to your rat back home.

“Khonshu, he’s just waiting for his coffee, a lot of people just stand like that and he asked for takeaway so he’s not even staying here,” You glare at him, “And Luna is a cat! Not a rat.”

That cat looks like a rat, I cannot believe you named her after the moon even though she is a disgusting creature. Khonshu grumbles. Gosh, you weren’t going to argue with him right now about your cat. You knew that she was not the cutest looking to everyone but hell, she was to you, and just because she’s a hairless cat he calls her a rat.

“I thought Egyptians honored cats,” You ask, quietly.

Hmm, not one that looks like a rat. I had many cats, beautiful creatures with fur. At least he was a cat person but still doesn’t make it for the fact that he did hate your cat. 

Khonshu breathes down your neck the entire time you made the hot drink, until the time you handed it back to the customer. He watches the man’s hands linger on yours for far too long, he wanted to snap his wrist and bend it behind his back beyond humanly possible.

“Keep the change,” The man says, smiling ear to ear. You thank him, and hopes for him to have a good day. Khonshu was confused as to why you would wish for such a vermin to have a good day.

“See, just a customer,” You put the extra cash into the tips jar, “No need to get jealous.”

Jealous? Do I reek of jealousy little bird? I’m only worried for my avatar’s safety whether it be physically or mentally, and that worm seemed like someone with a corrupted heart. I do not get jealous. Khonshu spat his voice booms in your head.

You hum, turning to face him with a note in your hands, smiling at him, “A worm that gave me his number.”

Give it to me, I will erase it from existence. He reaches but you dodged and crumbled it into a ball before shoving it in your back pocket. 

You shake your head, biting your lip, “Nah, I’ll text him─let’s see if you get jealous.”

You will not. I forbid it. Khonsu practically shouts in your ears, you only chuckle and walk past him. He drops the end of his scepter onto the ground to get your attention, “Y/n, as my avatar you will listen to me. You are forbidden to act upon this desire─”

“Nothing in our deal suggests you controlling my sex life, Khonshu, now either leave or stand out of the way rush hour is about to start.”

Khonshu does stand out of the way for a couple of minutes before you feel cold fingers brush against the sides of your hips, it pushes you against the counter as you waited for the blender to finish. The cold fingers belonged to him of course, the boney beak brushes the edge of your sweater.

His fingers slip their way slowly into your back pockets and you were unable to stop him, the crumbled paper leaves your pocket quickly and disintegrates upon his touch. 

You gulped, feeling your cheeks redden at his tight hold. You can’t possibly be feeling like this around him, especially not in public. God, you haven’t been touched in months and the closest thing to a man’s hand has you already this worked up, you needed to get laid.

You cleared your throat, “You going to stand behind me all day?”

If needs be, my little bird. Khonshu’s voice breaks through your core, down the pits of your stomach. I sense no discomfort in you, rather, something else but I don’t think you are ready for that conversation.

With that, he leaves you with your breath choked up in your throat and your heart racing. You were only broken out of your trance when the blender dinged and you continued your routine, fill the cup, hand it over and smile.

☆.・゜゜・*. * ·✧*. * ·★.・゜゜・✰

© moongumi 2022. all rights reserved, do not copy and publish my writing anywhere else.

Hi! If you want to be a part of the taglist please message me or inbox me!! I don’t have this series in my form right now!

[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.”

[demonlovingangel]

The Devils' Plaything - Midnight Hunger

the first in a series of poly smut, starting with Beelzebub because he's my boy, my light, my life, my beloved

posted on AO3 as well, if you prefer that format

AFAB gender neutral reader named Yuki

anyway it's NSFW, explicit, 18+, lemons, smut, pwp, minors DNI, etc.

You can't take it anymore. It's late into the night and you have classes in the morning but you can't sleep. You can't get the seven demon brothers out of your head and it's driving you insane. Insane and completely horny.

You huff and splay out on your bed, kicking the covers off of you in frustration. You want so badly to sleep, but your equally intense desire to get your holes filled by any of the demons you live with is stopping that from happening. You tried rubbing it out already but that's no good, just as soon as you finish yourself off with a fantasy of one of them, you start thinking about another one and you're doing it again. It's just not the same. No matter how much you squeeze your breast and tweak your nipples and rub your clit and finger your hole, it's just not the same. You need to be pounded so bad. You need to be held down by Lucifer, or Beelzebub, or any of them, and fucked silly. You need to feel your pussy stuffed full and your body shaking and, God, you can't take it.

You practically throw yourself out of bed, snarling as you leave your bedroom to, well, you're not really sure. Maybe just walking around the massive structure that is the House of Lamentation will tire you out, and sleep will win over your hyperactive sex drive. You let your legs take you through the hall until you end up in the kitchen.

Unsurprisingly, Beelzebub is in there already. He turns to you when he hears you walk in, refrigerator doors open with one of his hands holding a box of popsicles, the other holding a single one that's already unwrapped. “Oh, hey Yuki. Got hungry too, huh?”

You shake your head. “I can't sleep.”

He hums in understanding, eating the entire popsicle in one bite. The stick comes out of his mouth missing a chunk.

You look at the box in his hand, and it's the kind that you like but haven't gotten to yet. You were waiting until the right moment to eat one, so you could savor it, but you realize now that living with Beelzebub and saving unmarked food for later is a one way ticket to disappointment. It's now or never. “Can I get one of those?”

He nods, another one of them already in his mouth, then pulls the last one out of the box before tossing it aside. He kindly unwraps the frozen treat before handing it over.

You thank him and eagerly put the half melted popsicle to your mouth, only for it to immediately crumble between your lips and down onto your cleavage. You yelp at the sudden cold on your skin while at the same time reflexively bringing up your other hand to try to catch the wayward pieces, but, –

– Beelzebub is there first. His head is practically between your breasts, his mouth open to catch the bits that didn't want to stay on the stick. His tongue trails a line up your chest where the popsicle touched and it sends a shock through your body straight to your core. A moan involuntarily escapes your mouth at the much wanted skin contact and your face burns red.

His head tilts back to look you in the eyes, but you look away and hope he was too occupied with capturing the escaped treat that he didn't notice. Then, he leans close to your face and licks your bottom lip.

“Got it all.” He says with a triumphant tone to his voice as he pulls back.

You turn to look at him now, mouth agape and eyes wide. You already figured he's not the brightest of the bunch, but surely he realizes what he did? What that noise you just made was?

“Yuki?” He asks quietly, head tilting to the side. You can practically see the little spinning wheel over his head as he processes what just happened. “Ah,” He says finally. “Sorry.”

“Uh...” You lick your lips, tasting his saliva mixed with the lingering flavor of the popsicle. “It's okay.”

He's looking you straight in the eye with a soft expression on his face, his lips parted to match your still gaping mouth. You would have thought he would have gone back to raiding the fridge by now, if you weren't already thinking about how attractive he is. Thinking about how bad you want to feel his tongue on your skin again. Thinking about his bulging muscles pressing against your body. Thinking about how uncomfortably hot your panties and sleep shorts are all of a sudden. You can't stop thinking about how this is your perfect chance to get exactly what your body has been so badly yearning for this whole night.

“I think, uh,” You start, swallowing to quell the dryness in your throat. “I think you missed a spot.”

“Oh, did I?” He asks, breaking eye contact to gaze down your tank top and into your cleavage for any remaining popsicle pieces.

Before he can realize there's nothing else there, you snap through any self control holding you back and take just one step closer, all you need to feel the heat of his body against yours. You stand on the tips of your toes and place your hands on his shoulders for leverage to plant a kiss on his lips.

He pulls his head away for a moment and you wonder if you went too far. The two of you have gotten close, but did you misinterpret your connection? Your fingers dig into his shoulders with worry, only for it to be met with his hands grabbing you by the hips.

“Here.” He picks you up and runs his hands down your butt and to the back of your thighs, pushing your legs around him. “Now you don't have to strain so much.”

Overcome with relief, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in for another kiss. He meets you halfway while wrapping his forearm under your rear to give you better support, the other hand pressing into the curve of your back. A moan rises up and out of your mouth, finally getting the itch deep inside scratched. But it isn't nearly enough to satisfy your lust.

“I want you, Beel...” You whine, pressing your body to his as much as you can, your fingers digging into his upper back.

“What do you want?” His head tilts to one side, eyes only looking into yours for a moment before they drift downwards to gaze at your lips.

“I want you inside of me.” You bite your lip, face flushing as the blood rushes to your head at finally admitting your desires. “I want you to fuck me so bad. I'm so horny.”

He grunts and without another moments hesitation he presses his lips to yours again, pushing past them with his tongue. The fingers of the hand holding you up are digging into your ass and his arms are squeezing you tightly against his body, allowing you to feel the erection budding in his sweatpants. His tongue is tasting every inch of your mouth and you lean in as much as you can to encourage him as you do the same to him. You move one hand up his neck to ball a fist into his messy orange hair, making him growl into your mouth. His dick is getting harder and you roll your hips into him to the best of your ability, desperate to feel it against your clit.

You pull away from the kiss to gasp for air and his hands move to grip your thighs, prying you off of him. He leans forward so he can gently set you back down onto your feet before his hands find their way up your shirt. He pushes your shirt over your chest while he lightly runs his palms up your body, causing electricity to radiate across your skin. His hands are kneading your now naked breasts, mouth nipping and kissing at your neck. You tilt your head forward and to the side to give him a better angle, and you can see the way his pants are barely keeping him contained at his point. You reach out to grab his shaft over the fabric, and he's rock hard. He's huge, he has enough girth that you're not even close to being able to wrap your whole hand around it. You start stroking his cock and bite your lip to keep in any moans he's trying to coax out of you with the way he's working your neck.

He lets out a deep moan against your skin when you squeeze him tighter, stroking him nice and slow. Almost as a form of repayment, he quickly moves one of his hands off your chest and into your panties, sliding a thick middle finger in between your folds and over your clit. “Wow, you're so wet.”

You moan into his ear as a response, unable to form coherent sentences with how good his finger feels sliding against the length of your slit. He rubs the thumb of his hand still on your breast against your nipple, flicking it as his thumb goes side to side. His pointer and ring finger on the hand between your legs close in to press your labia between them and his middle finger as he rubs his hand back and forth. You dig your fingers into his forearm, more stimulation and pleasure than you're used to flooding your senses. “Beel...” You mewl.

“Is it good?” His lips brush against your ear as he speaks slowly into it, his voice lower than usual.

“Ye-yeah...” You answer with a slow, deep exhale as he pushes one of his fingers inside of you.

“How about that?”

You can only moan and press your forehead into his shoulder in answer as he slowly works his finger in and out of you, pressing and rubbing his fingertip across your g-spot. “More... please...”

He slides another finger into you in response, encountering no resistance with how soaking wet your pussy is. Wanting to return the favor, you move your hand into the band of his sweatpants and boxers to free his cock. The sheer weight of it is keeping it pointed downward despite being fully erect. He's uncut with a bit of a swell near the head, a thick vein showing through there and a flush of red at the tip. You would almost want to get down on your knees to give it a good taste if you didn't so desperately need him buried all the way into your cunt. You put your hand around him again, relishing the soft skin of his cock as you go back to stroking him, pulling his skin back enough to reveal the red and swollen tip.

His fingers pump into you harder and he squeezes your boob, his teeth pressing into your neck. You can just feel the tension in his jaw as he fights the urge to take a bite out of you, tasty human that you are. You move your hand up his arm to his face so you can caress his cheek, hoping to soothe him and push his focus further into the moment as you beg into his ear. “Fuck me...” You bite his earlobe, giving it a tug. “Please...”

Then, he pulls away from your neck and removes his hand from between your legs. He sucks your juices off of his fingers while his other hand moves to your lower back, his other one joining it as soon as he's done licking it clean. In one swift motion he moves his hands into your panties and pushes them down to your knees. At the same time he pulls you closer and picks you up, gravity doing the rest of the work in removing your bottoms entirely. Your arms and legs are wrapped around him again, his one arm under you to hold you up while the other hand reaches for his cock. The head of his cock rubs against the length of your slit as he pulls it up between the both of you.

He holds you tightly with one arm, his shaft pressed between your bellies while the other shoves his bottoms the rest of the way down so he can step out of them. His hands grip your hips, so tightly it almost hurts, and he pulls you away from him slightly, his shaft sliding down between the two of you.

“Help me out here.” He says, gesturing downwards with a jerk of his head.

Immediately understanding his meaning, you move a hand down his chest to grab around the base of his cock to hold it still. With a bit of silent coordination, you angle his dick just right for him to pull you down on top of him. He slides into you with ease and without hesitation, coaxing a moan out of you. You've been so tense and Beelzebub filling you up, stretching your walls around his huge cock, is exactly what you've been yearning for. He savors your warmth for only the briefest moment before he lifts you up and brings you back down again, repeating it again and again. He moves his own body with the motions, thrusting into you at the same time as he pulls you down onto his cock. There's a tinge of an intensity, something between aching pain and over-stimulation, as he enters you up to the hilt, driving into the sensitive area deep inside.

“Beel...! Yes...!” You cry out between thrusts, moving your hand back up to his shoulders to hang onto him for dear life. Each slap of his hips against yours sends shocks through your legs, tense from squeezing around his waist, and you're already unsure if you can keep yourself up much longer. You hook your feet together and cling tightly around his neck, never wanting this moment to end, never wanting him to stop.

He lets go of your hips and holds you up with one arm again, his other hand following the length of your spine up to your head to grab onto your hair. He lightly tugs to pull your face out of the crook of his neck and immediately goes in for a kiss, hot and intense with the way he presses his face so desperately against yours. The rocking of his body slows and it's almost agonizing, the rhythmic pounding that lights up your nerves with each thrust turns into long strokes, the finer textures of his cock able to be felt as he pulls away slowly and pushes back in again. You whine against his lips, unable to pull yourself away to truly protest, to beg him to bounce you on his cock, to plead to be his own personal fuck toy.

At last your lips part in a gasp for air and he squeezes you tightly, pushing his dick right into the deepest parts of you. You moan at the sensation and he loosens his grip just enough to be comfortable, stopping the movement of his hips. You don't get the chance to ask why he's stopped as he carries you across the kitchen to the nearest raised surface. Beelzebub sets you down on the edge of a counter, placing his hands on it just behind you and on either side of your hips, his cock remaining inside of you the entire time.

He resumes the motion of his hips and his breath is getting heavy, finally feeling the strain of vigorously fucking you while holding you up. You lean back on the counter, shifting your weight to your hands as you take in the sight before you. Beelzebub's skin is glistening with sweat in the dim lighting of the kitchen, the thin fabric of his tank top sticking to his chest to emphasize the shape of his muscles, the soft ripples of his abdominal and the smooth swell of his pectoral. Strands of his red hair stick to his brow and the sides of his face, his head tilting forward with his mouth agape and eyes fixed between your legs, watching as he fucks you. You follow his gaze to find that the size of his cock at this angle is enough to make a bulge in your stomach when he pushes all the way into your pussy.

“Oh, wow.” You gasp, placing one of your hands over the area and feel the way your stomach shifts to the movement of his cock. You press lightly and your skin tingles more intensely when he slides in, pressing your flesh between him and your hand. You bite your lip as you feel your climax closing in and as much as you don't want this moment to end, you would much rather make the most of it. You move your hand down from your stomach to your clit, feeling how engorged it is with a swirl of your fingertips before you start to rub.

“Yuki...” He lets out with a moan, leaning in closer for a kiss. Your lips move together as his hands pull back from the counter, caressing your sides along their way to your front. He presses his palms into the underside of your thighs, fingers digging in as he lifts your legs up over his shoulders. You shift your weight onto your forearm while he moves as close to your body as the counter will allow, practically folding you in half. His hands are back behind you on the counter to hold himself up while his dick presses firmly into the tender area deep inside of you.

He's panting for breath as the pace of his thrusting picks up, pounding his cock directly into your most sensitive spot while you fervently rub your clit. You're teetering on a precipice, feeling certain you're going to fall into the waves of pleasure every time his hips slap against yours while he drives balls deep into you, only for you to be rocked away from the intensity when he pulls back. It feels so good you can't help the quiet whimpers that leave your lips until, finally, he pushes into you and it pushes you over the edge. He doesn't stop and you're crying out with each thrust, your legs twitching and muscles going into a spasm with the intense shock-waves radiating out from your core. Your climax is messy, your juices spurting out and slicking both of your bellies, but that doesn't stop you from rubbing your clit or stop him from pounding your pussy, chasing the high.

It doesn't take much more for him to follow, the feeling of your pussy squeezing and quivering around his cock bringing him to orgasm that much faster. He starts to gasp for breath as his climax reaches him, his hips slowing down to a stop to bury himself all the way into your pussy. His breath is hot against your skin and you can feel his cock throb inside of you with each pump of his cum.

“Oh, Beel...” You breathe, leaning your head forward to rest on his shoulder. He rubs his head against yours before resting against it in return.

“That was good...”

“Yeah...” You barely manage to say, feeling dazed.

You wrap your arms loosely around him, just to feel him, just to savor the connection the two of you are sharing in this moment, and he brings his arms in closer around you. The two of you stay like that in the comfort of each others presence while you catch your breaths and recover. Up until a deep and powerful rumble cuts through the silence.

“I'm really hungry now.” He says, standing up straight with a hand on his stomach.

You can't help laughing, having almost forgotten the kind of demon he is. Typical Beelzebub.

“I don't see what's so funny.” He frowns.

“It's nothing, don't worry.” You reassure him as you lower feet down to the floor. Soreness is starting to set in and your legs are tingling like crazy, almost going numb. The now wet floor beneath you is no help to you keeping your balance either, and you lose your footing. You're sure you would have keeled over, if Beelzebub hadn't been there to catch you. Your face ends up pressed against his chest and you're gripping onto his arms for dear life.

“Careful.”

“Yeah, thanks.” You blush, more out of embarrassment than anything. What if you had gotten hurt? What are you going to tell Lucifer? 'I slipped and fell on my own cum after your second youngest brother fucked me silly on the kitchen counter?' Nah-uh. You find your footing more carefully this time in order to stand on your own, glancing around the room. “What a mess...”

Sweatpants and sleep shorts, along with the undergarments they once hid beneath them, are strewn on the floor and there's a mixed puddle of cum dripping down the counter you were just sitting on. That's to say nothing of the mess Beelzebub had made before you came in while he was eating everything he could find out of the refrigerator. Your better sense is returning and you wonder if fucking right then and there in the kitchen was the best idea. If anything, your desire to sleep is now winning over like you hoped, but you fear the consequences if this isn't cleaned up.

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “Did you enjoy it?”

You groan, thinking more about how you really don't want to clean up this mess right now and to just go to bed when you know you can't. But goddammit, you do have to admit that it was amazing. “Yeah, I did.”

“I'm glad.” He says quietly, pulling you closer to him since you never left his arms. You turn your head to look at him and he's gazing down at you with a soft smile. It makes your heart flutter and you melt into his arms, resting your head on his chest.

“I'm so tired, I want to go to bed.” You mumble. “But if I don't clean this up Lucifer is going to be pissed.”

“I can do it.” He says as he idly rubs your back.

“Really?” You perk up, tilting your head to look him in the face. His gaze is sincere and intense, no ulterior motive hidden behind his violet eyes. He nods and you squeeze him tightly, overcome with relief. “You're the best, Beel! I'll buy an extra lunch just for you during school tomorrow.”

You settle into bed after collecting your bottoms and taking a quick shower, eager to sleep as you slide comfortably under the covers, only to jerk up as you curse to yourself, making a sudden realization. Beelzebub came inside you. You're not on any form of birth control andBeelzebub came inside you. In a panic, you grab your D.D.D to do a search to see if humans really can get pregnant from a demon. From stories you've heard when still in the human world, you're pretty sure they could. But maybe, just maybe, the truth was to the contrary and you'd be just- “Fuck!”

There is a distinct possibility you could be having Beelzebub's baby.

While you're busying yourself with your D.D.D to calm down, your period tracker app notifies you of your period coming up. At least you don't have to wait long to find out, and you spend the next few days worrying.

Thankfully, he didn't take.

You're not even sure if you'd be having sex with Beelzebub again or if that was some sort of fluke, but you make a mental note to make him pull out the next time.

[goldengoddess]

you & the stars - jesper fahey

pairing: jesper fahey x reader 

request: Hii Could I request head-cannons for dating Jesper and getting hurt on a job. I love your work so much !!

a/n: thank you so much<3 oh my god i totally got carried away with this,,, this might be one of my favorite things i’ve written holy fuck so self indulgent because i love jesper with every part of me 

warnings: angst (but comfort at the end), bullet wounds, injury, blood, almost dying, curse words

you saw the blood before you felt the pain in your side. it dripped down your stomach and into your hands. and then came the horrible vision blurring pain that followed. black spots flowered in your vision as you fell to the floor on your knees. you clutched your stomach as if your two hands could stop the bleeding of a bullet hole.

this was meant to be an easy job. it was meant to be in and out. you and the crows had escaped the ice court, the hands of jan van eck, and the capture of multiple countries. a re con mission at a merchant party should have been a joke. it was meant to even be fun.

you had been looking forward to it for weeks. looking forward to dressing up. feeling nice fancy satin on your skin for one beautiful night. being able to see jesper all cleaned up and in a suit.

you had woken up that morning ready to let your fantasy world take over, to pretend that this job was just a date between you and your boyfriend. that you two fit into this world of luxury and ease, and not the world of street fights and bullet wounds.

how wrong your day dreaming had been, you thought to yourself.

you didn’t remember falling to the floor completely, but suddenly your back was pressed onto the street and you could see the night sky above you.

it was pitch black, filled with clouds of smoke and pollution, a staple of ketterdam.

you could vaguely hear voices calling your name in the distance, muffled by the roar of pain your body was in.

where were the stars, you wondered. i need to see the stars.

the tears in your eyes made it hard for you to see but suddenly jesper’s face appeared in your line of vision, followed by inej’s.

a string of curse words left jesper’s mouth as he gently cradled your head and upper body.

inej unwrapped her scarf and pressed it into the wound in your stomach. you winced in pain every time she moved or shook from fear.

“y/n, sweetheart, you have to stay with me” jesper pleaded.

he looked so worn out, so scared. his eyes were wide and sad. his mouth turned into a frown. you hated when jesper didn’t smile, his grin was just too bright for this world.

“please smile for me” you groaned. everything in your body hurt, your vision was blurry, and it was getting harder and harder to form coherent thoughts.

jesper’s frown only deepened as he rubbed your cheek with his thumb, “just stay with me please. i’ll smile for the rest of my life. just stay with me.”

you let out what you hoped was a little whine and not a blood curdling scream.

you guessed it was the latter as both inej and jesper looked at each other with wide eyes.

jesper started screaming nina’s name at the top of his lungs, his voice raw and desperate cracking at the end of each scream.

she won’t get here in time.

you used every ounce of energy your body had left to lift your hand up to jesper’s face.

your touch shocked him and he turned his attention back to your face, you in his arms. he leaned into your hand and you could see tears at the corner of his eyes.

“i love you.” you wheezed out, “i love you so much. you are the best person i’ve ever known. i need you to know that and remember that when i’m not there to tell you.”

his face grew angry at your words and his grip tightened on your body, “no. you are gonna be there. you’re gonna be there for the rest of my stupid life telling me how great i am and sometimes how obnoxious i can be. you are not allowed to die, we aren’t finished.”

you removed your hand from his face. the blood on your hands staining his cheek and shirt. jesper saw the blood on him and let out a small gasp. 

the sky caught your attention again.

no stars.

you wanted stars.

you registered the feeling of being lifted off the ground by jesper, his arms hooked under your knees and supporting you head at the same time.

he was walking as fast as he could without hurting you and every small protest of pain from your mouth squeezed at his heart.

you gripped his shirt, “jesper.”

he looked down at you and even scared and covered in your blood you couldn’t believe how beautiful he looked.

“what baby?” he asked as gently as possible, still moving towards, what you hoped, was the slat.

“the stars aren’t there” you said deliriously, resting your head on his chest, “i want to see the stars.”

“stay awake and i’ll take you to the stars sweetheart. just stay awake.” you heard him say before you closed your eyes and the world went silent.

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

you opened your eyes and you let out a sigh of relief at the familiar sight and smell of your room at the slat.

you craned your neck to the side, and you were met with nina zenik sitting in a chair with her head in her hands, mumbling prayers and nonsense.

“saints zenik, i never took you for the religious type” you teased, your voice coming out sounding wrong thanks to your scratchy throat.

her head snapped up and she rushed to your bed side, clutching your hand.

“oh you absolute idiot, you are not allowed to do that again. do you hear me?” she threatened.

you let out a little laugh, “or what zenik?”

her eyes got sad all of a sudden and she squeezed your hand gently, like if we squeezed just the right way she could transfer all of her love and strength to you. “im sorry i couldn’t get there earlier. by the time you got to me i thought there was nothing i could do.” she sighed and puffed out her chest slightly, “but this is me we’re talking about so of course i fixed you right up. but i didn’t have time to worry about the beauty of all of it so it’ll leave a pretty nasty scar.”

you nodded your head as she talked. you had assumed as much, everything in your body was sore but you were happy that it wasn’t screaming in pain like before.

“god jesper was about to kill me dead as i worked on you, i swear he was so worried and pissed he would have bitch slapped me right there in front of the crows and- oh my god jesper!?” she shrieked the last part.

she got off the floor and opened the door, “jes! get your ass up here.”

she turned back to you, “y/n he was here the entire time. we finally convinced him to go get something to eat i promise. he’s going to be so angry he wasn’t here when you woke up.”

and even thought you’d almost died, the thought of jesper waiting at your bedside made you blush.

nina noticed and rolled her eyes, “yuck, the two of you are so in love it hurts.”

suddenly jesper was at the door, his breathing labored making it very clear that he had run up the stairs at full speed to get to your room.

nina gave you a small smile before slipping out of the room and closing the door.

jesper was at your side before you could blink. his forehead pressed into your arm as he held the same hand nina had held only a few minutes ago.

he kept repeating “you’re okay” and “i’m so sorry” over and over. and you couldn’t speak. because you couldn’t believe you had this beautiful boy in your life and you were making him worry.

you lifted his head so he was looking at you and you placed your hand on his cheek. you got a horrible sense of deja vu. jesper felt it too because he immediately tensed. you pulled your hand away and when you both saw there was no blood, you put it back.

“jes, you incredible idiot, this is not your fault. you don’t have to say sorry. i’m okay. i’m still here. we are okay.”

you punctuated each word to make him really get it. you couldn’t live with yourself if this moment destroyed the happy boy that you had fallen in love with.

he let out a breath and motioned for you to make room in the bed. you wiggled to one side, wincing a little bit. jesper climbed in and you rested your head on his shoulder as he played with your fingers.

“don’t ever scare me like that again” he grumbled.

you laughed and jokingly responded with “no sorry babe i can’t promise that, i just love getting shot in the stomach. quiet enjoyed it”

he glared at you for a second before laughing with you.

he traced a little heart into your palm with his pointer finger. “you’re my favorite person in this world. i couldn’t live without you.”

“then you’re lucky you don’t have to” you hummed in response.

“yeah i am, who would annoy the crap out of me if not” he teased.

you giggled into his shoulder and left a little kiss.

“when you’re feeling better, you know, not on the brink of death by bullet, i’m going to take you to novyi zem.” you looked up at him, shocked because jesper had never suggested visiting his home country. but he was still looking at your fingers like his life depended on it. “we’re going to spend a week at my da’s farm and we’ll stay up all night looking at the stars and making up stories.” he said. it didn’t sound like a request but more like a plea. like he had to give this to you.

you only vaguely recalled mentioning the stars and jesper holding you in his arms but you nodded your head anyways.

“as much as i’m incredibly excited for that, i already have the brightest star right here.” you grinned, tapping his nose.

he rolled his eyes and kissed the crown of your head, “cheesy sweetheart. even for you.”

[mochikeiji]

Come Home

↠ Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

↠ Warning: anxiety attacks, pregnancy, manga spoiler! chapter 91 (for those who have not read)

↬ Word Count: 2k

If death was giving you a sign at this very moment, it would be the cold ticks each second the clock on your empty apartment room echoed. Each second comes an outbursts of numerous emotions. On the first tick sent shivers on your skin, the second felt like small pricks of hair slowly rose up as goosebumps followed after, third was the frantic tapping of your foot on the carpeted floor as you bounced your leg.

On the outside, you would've been labelled as overreacting. On the inside, you were slowly dying.

As of now time felt like a never ending torture. It was a tug of war between trust in your husband or the one in your gut; a battle between mind and heart, to whom should you choose to believe in? How long do you plan on standing at the edge of the cliff not knowing the faith that has been laid out for you and the most powerful shaman? To whom do you concede to?

A critical position for you to be in. If Gojo were here beside you, not only would you have to wince at the feeling of his finger flicking your forehead, but also a round of uncharacteristic scolding about how bad it is to be stressed out or anxious because of the growing life inside of you. Well, none of this wouldn't have happened if he didn't left. But as all married couples are out there, you are one of the majority that did not want to tie their partners down from what they were meant to do. Especially if your partner is the most needed person in the world.

You couldn't tell him not to go out. Not out there on the field you've come to grow as a sorcerer yourself. The deaths of your fallen comrades and innocent civilians, the demands of the elders and powerful clans. Most of all, being part of the theatre death had directed. No one knows who'd be next to live another day or to be at forever slumber. And your husband was one of the main casts in this scene. Someone who'd always be near death's door only to keep taunting the horrifying God.

It was all fun and games before. It was either ride or die with Gojo during your youthful days. But as time progressed, and the upcoming family you both had dreamed of was at its peak, from that moment every thing came crashing down. It wasn't hormones anymore. It wasn't simple.

You were beyond terrified.

"Please come home."

Not even realizing you were already kneeling down from the couch you were seated, hands clasps together hard, the veins prodding out as if they were going to pop. A silent mantra of pleads to the unknown world you were stuck in. Chest heaving harshly, tears and snot mixing as they fell down the cushions. You didn't feel them. You couldn't see anything.

There was no way to describe the gaping hole that had swallowed you to your deepest depths of fear.

"Come home, Satoru.."

Was the last thing that had been uttered out from your lips before the dark hushes turned into soft cooes. The once imaginary prickly like nails that was scraping your body changed into gentle strokes on your back and onto your bulging stomach.

If there was no way to describe your fears, what is there to be said for the immense heart break of your own husband coming home to see you knelt down with cascading despair written all over your features? The image of the cheery, and powerful woman he's had of you now haunted by what he had came home to.

Though Gojo never had the brightest personality to everyone, he would trade every thing he has if it meant for you to be pulled out from where he had dragged you in.

He knew from the start loving you would mean a lot. You were every thing he wanted and yearned for in life. The love he always came home to. Cursing his naive self of erasing the fact that you were only human.

You had your limitations and this was it.

"Hey, wifey, shhh." the warmth of his breath next to your ear made you choke a sob. Having his body shield your smaller one from behind with his hands now trapping your still clasped ones. "I'm here, I'm not going any where. Not now or ever." his white hair tickling the side of your cheek as he rubbed the side of his face onto the your tear stained ones. If there was one thing everyone knew he was good at, it was being overly affectionate. Not that you'd complain.

His thumbs massages the back of your hands, smoothing down the veins in hopes of easing your grip. He should probably thank Yuuji for passing out hours ago, if not he'd be still stuck training the young lad and have you deal with this torment possibly longer. Even so, he was glad he had manage to finish up early. At your 7 month of pregnancy he wouldn't dare take longer. He didn't like being away, he never did. Always cursing at those who demand his presence. All he wanted was to stay home with you.

Home where everything is safe.

"Let's get you up, kay? May I carry you?" it was a shock on how uncharacteristically cautious he's become ever since your pregnancy. No one knew the Gojo Satoru knows when to tone it down on situations. It was all heart warming, you wanted to cry.

You gave him a small nod, feeling your body hoisted up from the floor and nested on top of his lap with ease. Never failing to amaze you how you managed to marry this man. The man you'd devotedly pray to the heavens would come back to you alive.

As his arms finally settled on your waist, moving at an upward then downward motion, he rubs your sides. Slowly coming to the globe of your stomach with a soft hum, he watches you deeply with a soft gaze behind his interfering blindfold.

Sighing shakily, you shifted your position a bit to the side, allowing yourself to lean your cheek on his left pectoral, listening to the rhythm his heart beat, sobs died down into sniffles and hiccups. You twiddled with his fingers placed on your stomach. The anxiety inside you barely disappeared, but tamed for the moment.

A light peck on your forehead was placed, snapping you back from the little world that had consumed you, down back in the arms of your beloved husband as he smiles and wipes away the left over tears, "Hi there, honey."

Focused on the warmth his palm emits, you reached out over his covered eyes, sliding away the blindfold, freeing the captivating azure gaze he possesses as they held nothing but love piercing back to your teary ones. His hair framing his adorning features, yet so perfect and lively he was smiling at you. The image of this man you wanted to wake up to every day. To welcome, to smile with, to live, and to love.

"Satoru.."

Cupping your cheeks in worry, the serene peace disappearing from him when his brows furrowed with his lips frantically hushing you. Parental instincts kicking in as he eyed your stomach in wonder how your dear child was holding up with the mountain of negative emotions crowding you, "Honey, you need to stay calm. Our little bun in there might have trouble baking you know?" he whispered close to your lips, foreheads leaned onto yours.

"Oh, Satoru." a broken smile formed from your quivering lips, "You're home, you're home." thumbs coming close to stroke his lids softly down to his cheeks. Fragile, that's how you'd describe yourself in touching your husband. Every day from the moment you lived with him are days you two cannot be separated from each other's lingering touches. Even so, on those days it still felt like it was too good to be true to have each other embraced away from the terrors of the world.

"I'm home, I'm home." sealing away your sobs with his lips to yours, letting you feel all of his emotions and unspoken vows within the action of only you two could share forever. The love he never knew he was capable of only for you and your child to be gifted of.

"I'm scared." pulling away as you shut your eyes. The dark hushes returning, coming back to haunt you of what is in store for tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and so on. The strings attached upon you two, unknowing who was in control of your faiths. "Satoru, I'm scared. Please don't go anymore."

Confessing all of your troubles, he tightens his hold around you. Not a chance, he curses in his head would he allow himself to be defeated so easily and submitting himself to the awaiting gates of death.

"What if you don't come back to me anymore?"

Not a chance, was he going to die after happiness is just within his reach. Longing for something so surreal his entire life. He wasn't going out without having a taste of the sweetness of he now calls home in his life. Not ever. Not when he knows he's the strongest and will continue to reign as he is.

"Honey loves, I'll always come home to you." a vow he seals with the gaze he has locked with yours. The golden band that was proudly worn on his finger from his left hand above your stomach, "I'll always come home to you both, my sweet loves." a vow for only the two people in his life that kept him going. He will always keep his word by heart.

Though it was known that it wasn't enough to fully assure you. The comfort of today was much appreciated and needed for you to finally sigh out one last bit of the sadness, and giving him a teary smile.

"I love you, Satoru."

A melodic sound his heart would crave for every day. Definitely another thing worth coming home if he could hear it again and again.

Smiling mischievously, he reciprocates the feeling by stealing another one of your kisses whilst cradling your body and stomach. He wonders how long would it take for your baby to come meet him. He could hardly wait anymore.

"I love you more."

Was the last thing he had said before his eyes shut close to bask in the warmth and safety of his domain. His and yours little domain. One day to be shared with either a mini you or him between your arms, erupting small giggles into the air.

He couldn't wait to come home to that very day.

Not to wake up another second.

Or was it a minute?

An hour?

He couldn't tell. For time was unpredictable inside the realm he was kept imprisoned.

"Oh, another dream."

An old memory he has with you over months ago.

A breathy chuckle comes out. Was it another thing to mock him of his moment of weakness? Where he could do nothing but lay down and wait for he knows nothing of what could and what was happening?

His bones were on fire. The caged rage inside of him waiting to be freed as he could hear the cackles of his own enemies having to won over him.

"Come home to me."

No, they have not.

The fight was still going. He knows deep down as his faith on his beloved students remains strongly as his love and promises to you. Somehow, some way, he will get out. Like before, time is the enemy. He could only hope that you're holding up for the mean time. It was only matter of time you would be giving birth as well.

And he wasn't planning on missing out the biggest part of his life.

Nor was he planning on letting his enemies run free easily. They were going to pay.

He was going to pay.

"I'm coming home. Wait for me."

Thus begins the string of faith as every thing is set into motion.

© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)

[sixeyesgojo]

JJK characters with their newborns

Summary: The birth of their child brings forth sparkling stars in their irises.

Characters: Gojo, Toji, Nanami, Megumi, Yuji, Geto

Content warning: childbirth (nothing explicit)

A/N: minor characters are aged up || request + a birthday present for my dear friend @assbuttbaek

Happy birthday ♡ I love you so much! Hope you have a good one (tell me all about it hehe)

Gojo Satoru

Satoru couldn’t keep still at all, until the doctor called for him.

“My little baby girl,” he cooed with such a tender voice, “Daddy can’t wait to get to know you and spoil you rotten. We might need to run from Mommy sometimes but it’s okay, I’ll protect you at all costs.”

The first time he saw his newborn daughter... it was as if lightning struck him. The warm feeling spread throughout his entire body. It got even worse when the doctor told him to hold the baby.

Like a wildfire, the joy intensified tenfold and he couldn’t contain the happiness on his face. Perhaps it was the brightest and most genuine smile anyone had ever seen on his face.

Then he turned to you, his wife. The look on his face made it evident just how happy he was.

“Sorry honey, but I think I already love this one more than you.”

Geto Suguru

“Three girls? Gosh, I can already see my hair turning white,” he joked. He was trying his best to sound cool and collected but it was impossible. Suguru’s body shook slightly but he wouldn’t ever allow his body to let go of the small bundle in his arms. One look was enough to make the overwhelming feeling of joy take over and soon, tears were brimming in Suguru’s dark eyes.

He swore not to cry but heck, that was easier said than done. His heart was about to break out of its cage, it was beating that hard.

To him, even finding someone like you was a miracle itself. Never ever did he imagine having a family, considering the dangerous path he had decided to take.

The gaze in his eyes was so tender as he looked at the baby in his arms. Mimiko and Nanako would finally have a little sibling to take care of.

Fushiguro Toji

Wasn’t that dangerous? The fact that his hands could easily crush this tiny creature with his bare hands? No, no, he couldn’t afford to have dark thoughts like these. Not when he was blessed to be able to hold the little infant in his strong arms. Toji might have spent years, crafting a tough image of himself, but for his family, he would always be a big soft-hearted man. Truthfully, they were his one and only weakness but also the biggest gift given by God.

“Megumi. His name is Megumi.” For the first time in a while, Toji’s face didn’t display the neutral facial expression he usually put on around others.

“Sir, what shall his name be?” the doctor asked. A son.

It took him a moment to register that someone talked to him, he was that mesmerized by the little human made out of his own and his wife’s love.

Toji could already tell after a few minutes of spending time with his son. This little bundle of joy will undoubtedly turn Toji’s world around.

Megumi, his personal blessing.

Nanami Kento

He couldn’t wait to dive into this life, the domestic life. Couldn’t wait to do all the things a dad does. Bake bread with his child, teach them how to play various games, help them doing their homework, fight off talk to other parents if it concerned his little one, be a good role model.

The small baby in his arms stirred and cried out; Kento felt like it was the most rewarding thing to hear in this moment. He was willing to work much harder if it meant that this little one would have a good life.

All of these thoughts were in his head when he first held his newborn baby. A sudden wave of gratefulness flooded his heart. He wasn’t someone who cries but somehow, this situation got him extra emotional.

Was it like this for everyone?

Maybe work wasn’t so shit, after all.

Fushiguro Megumi

This man. You had to only look at him and you knew. To anyone else in the room, his face might have seemed like a pokerface. That was an entirely other matter when you looked at him though. You definitely noticed the way his lips twitched every now and then, the way his eyes softened, the way he tried to keep his emotions in.

He didn’t need to express anything with his face at all. You knew and that was enough for you.

Once upon a time, he was so sure he wouldn’t be able to save anybody and therefore not be rewarded with anything good in life - unfairness was all he knew - but now? His life had taken such a turn, in the best way possible and all he could do was thank you and this new life the two of your brought into this world.

Megumi took your hand into his big one, stroking it tenderly while his other arm held the baby securely. “Thank you so much,” he mumbled softly.

“‘s my pleasure, ‘gumi,” you replied, exhausted from the labor.

Itadori Yuji

“This is really...?” Yuji was baffled. It didn’t click in his head yet. Although the doctor already confirmed it several times, Yuji couldn’t help but ask again and again. It was unbelievable to him - but in the best way.

It wasn’t until you’ve had it with his antics and confirmed it yourself, yes, this is his kid and yes, he is a dad.

Then, his brain seemed to acknowledge it, judging from the way his face beamed and his lips stretched into a child-like grin. The man couldn’t contain the happiness in his body as he jumped around the room, screaming out praises and “Yahoo!”s (until he was reminded that noise could possibly disturb the baby).

When he finally calmed down, you could see the stars in his eyes as he touched the sleeping baby’s hand. “Look look, it’s sooooooooooo small!” he whisper-shouted. The excitement of this man never quite went away.

Taglist (opennnn): @megumifushi​ @assbuttbaek​ @bleueluna​ @cutie-aquarius​ @yujisabs @aceilora​ @emilystaysgold 

[elysianslove]

Please wrote more surrogate fics please . could I request one with SakuAtsu or could you just start a series on these. If you'd me comfortable with that. That on IwaOi surrogate fic brought me so much joy. I can't even describe it.

oh my goodness i’d love to!!! it makes me so happy knowing you liked it cause like,,, idk why it’s just special to me :) also im so glad you asked for sakuatsu bc these two ships are basically my favorite jhfgbsj. and yesyes i’d love to have a mini series with like little scenarios of each ship <333

this was insanely long. like insanely. 

content warning; artificial insemination, pregnancy, haikyuu manga spoilers, gay people being happy idk 

being iwaoi’s surrogate 

BEING SAKUATSU’S SURROGATE 

↬ it took forever to even get them together, so with a duo as indecisive as them, it’s imaginable how long the decision to raise a child together took. it took a long, long while for that transition from enemies to lovers to be final, and even then, they hadn’t realized how serious their relationship was until they were off getting married and then suddenly wanting a child? 

↬ it was something atsumu brought up out of the blue, just casually as they sat side by side on the couch. “wouldn’t it be nice if we raised a child together?” and it stuck with sakusa ever since. he didn’t know why he was obsessively thinking about it as much, but it’s all he could think about. literally. anytime he so much as thought about atsumu with a child, and a child of their own too, his stomach did a thousand and one flips. sakusa was never the biggest fan of children, and he knew that neither was atsumu. but, this would be different, wouldn’t it? Still, he tried to remind himself of the cons; they were pro-athletes, they didn’t have time, they didn’t understand the weight of the responsibility, were they even ready for something like that? somedays it was too tiring to take care of themselves, of each other. were they ready to be responsible for a whole life, someone dependent entirely on them? it seemed too— unrealistic. like something he could only hope to dream about, and just dream about.

↬ until he thought of atsumu with a little kid, a spit image of either one of them, sitting on his lap, giggling and laughing and squealing in glee. and so he decided, there will always be cons, he just has to see if the pros outweighed them. and honestly, they did. they were pro-athletes, sure, but that also meant they were financially stable, and could provide for a child, properly. they were mature now, knew each other very well, and had adapted to living with one another. they had family and friends all around. the kid would for sure grow up loved and cared for, and him and atsumu would add another person to their family. it really seemed like a dream, but this time, an attainable one.

↬ so as he ate dinner with his lover, he blurted out, “let’s raise a child together,” and atsumu honest to god choked on his food. he asked sakusa if he was serious, if he meant it, if this was real, and sakusa’s answer was yes to every single one of his question. yes, he was serious; yes, he meant it; yes, this was real. as real as can be.

↬ they both already knew they wanted a surrogate, and it didn’t matter who was the father. so long as the child was theirs.

↬ finding a surrogate was, well, a pain, to put it into perspective. sakusa was so picky about the “requirements,” if you will, and atsumu was suspicious of every single woman, it was kind of ridiculous really. he just “didn’t trust that they wouldn’t run away with the baby!” in his words. atsumu suggested sakusa’s older sister, which seemed perfect in his head, but sakusa refused, claiming it was 1. extremely weird, and 2. he doubted she’d say yes, with her own life to handle.

↬ and it finally, finally, came to atsumu: he could always just ask, well, you. he had met you during his college years, and since then, he’d been coincidentally crossing paths with you ever since then, and you’d even managed their msby jackals team at some point. it was weirdly ironic how he’s coming back to you, kind of like fate.

↬ so he suggested it to sakusa, and for once, the latter didn’t really have any way to object, except, “what if this inconveniences her?” other than that, you were the perfect candidate. they knew you well, trusted you, knew they could rely on you. and atsumu was sure you wouldn’t run with the baby. with regards to the inconvenience part, well, they could always just deal with that when the time came.

↬ they invited you over for some breakfast two days later, after they’d thought about it properly, endlessly, and figured you were their best option. it was weird seeing them so nervous when you first arrived, like they were breaking up with you or something. atsumu barely ate with how nauseous he felt, and sakusa spent the entire time watching you eat instead, hands fidgeting and legs shaking. it was really weird, but you didn’t bring it up, letting them take their own time to tell you whatever it was they wanted to tell you, because obviously, they clearly had something to say.

↬ after breakfast, you sat in their living room, just watching the tv quietly, until sakusa offered to get you some water. you weren’t really thirsty, but you agreed anyways, unsurprised to see atsumu rise from his own seat a minute later with a, “be right back,” as he headed to the kitchen. you could hear them bickering and whisper-yelling, and if you weren’t starting to grow as nervous as they were, you would’ve had it in you to laugh. they returned looking like they were bearing the most daunting of news, sitting down on the couch perpendicular to you. atsumu’s hands were sweaty and intertwined tightly together, while sakusa tried to remain as composed as possible. it seemed like the dark haired man would speak up, finally, parting his mouth with a deep breath.

↬ but it’s atsumu that blurts out, “please have my baby!— our baby. please have our baby.”

↬ honestly, your first response was to laugh, in disbelief, as you clutch your glass of water. but then you see their faces — god they looked so goddamn scared — and you realized that, they were really serious. they really wanted you to carry their baby for them. holy shit?—

↬ you were mostly speechless after that, stuttering as you ask them to please explain, you’re honored but are they are, have they thought about this? properly? in depth?

↬ to your surprise, they really knew what they were doing. they’d done their research, and thought about a million other options before deciding that you were the best one. they also repeatedly told you that you didn’t have to do this, and that they didn’t want to guilt-trip you into doing it either. they wanted you to say yes only if you yourself wanted to say yes, and if this wouldn’t negatively affect you or halt your life in any way. you were the one that was going to be carrying the baby anyways, weren’t you? at the end of the day, this was all about you.

↬ you asked them for time to think about it, and reminded them that it wasn’t a no. you just wanted to make sure you were making the right decision whichever that ended up being. a few days later, you call them, asking them to meet up one way or another, and atsumu’s even more nervous than he was asking you; not even sakusa’s gentle lips to his temple or large hands soothingly rubbing at his back or his kind words could help him. sakusa himself was insanely anxious. in his head, it seemed like your ‘no,’ would finalize everything. that it would really mean no hope in having a child of their own, their very own.

↬ you invite them over to your home, and the kettle is already boiling when they arrive. you make them tea and make small talk if only to delay the inevitable. but, to each of their surprises, you take a deep breath and say, “i’d be honored to carry your baby for you,” with the brightest, warmest smile. sakusa has to bite his inner cheek to will himself to not cry, because he can’t believe you said yes. you agreed. you’re going to carry their baby. him and atsumu were having a baby.

↬ atsumu doesn’t stop himself from throwing his arms around you, collapsing on top of you in tight hug that you kind of can’t breathe, but you let him, and you laugh when he thanks you for saying yes, that he’ll “be forever in your debt.”

↬ it’s the happiest you’ve seen either of them.

↬ when you’re done with the process of insemination (of course, atsumu does joke that the three of you should go the natural way and have a threesome, to which he earns a smack from his lover and a smack from you, at the same time), the three of you just have to wait, really. it’s the longest period of waiting you’ve ever had to do, but you try to be patient, as patient as you can be. when you wake up one morning and throw up, you look at your period tracking app to see if maybe you were pms’ing. except, you weren’t. you were late. like a good three weeks late.

↬ immediately, you’re booking a doctor’s appointment. you wait to tell sakusa and atsumu after confirming your suspicions, because you don’t want to raise their hopes up for nothing. they’ve already been swimming in a pool of doubts ever since the insemination, calling you everyday to check up on you and ask for any progress. when the doctor confirms your pregnancy — holy shit you were pregnant — the first thing you do is go over to their house. you know it’s not the best idea to show up unannounced, but with how long they’ve been waiting, and how much they’ve been wanting this, the more and more you fed into it, you couldn’t wait any longer to tell them. you arrive, and the moment sakusa opens the door for you, you gasp out, “i’m pregnant.”

↬ sakusa’s quite literally frozen in shock, his mouth pressed in a thin line with eyes wide open, while atsumu walks over and goes, “oh hey,” in greeting before noticing sakusa’s face and just ???? “what’s going on?”

↬ “i’m pregnant.”

↬ “you’re what?”

↬ you show them with tears stinging your eyes the results of the test you’d taken at the doctor’s, and atsumu grips the report so tightly, like it’ll disappear if it slips only slightly from his hands. sakusa’s still in shock, trying to process everything. it takes him a good while before he can function properly again.

↬ the pregnancy itself is a lot smoother than you’d imagined. iwaizumi, as their athletic trainer, although not well versed with pregnancy, knew a lot about health and taking care of yourself in general, so he made sure you were always eating right and healthy. he even accompanied you once when sakusa and atsumu couldn’t, to the doctor, and made sure to ask him specifically what you should and shouldn’t be eating. all of the olympic/national team are more excited than anything. they’re insanely protective over you, and always pamper and care for you you when they can, whether that be back/neck/shoulder massages or giving you their food when they notice you eyeing it or letting you lean entirely on any of them for support as you walk. granted, they do make fun of you, especially the bigger your stomach got, but they mean well, really. suna once made fun of you and, because of the hormones, and because he was genuinely just mean, you started to cry. since then, suna swore off bullying you, at least until you gave birth.

↬ osamu is beyond ecstatic to become an uncle. he’s so excited it makes atsumu incredibly emotional. he goes with his brother on trips to ikea to buy a crib and gifts him an insane amount of baby clothes and always begins a conversation with, “how’s the baby?” every time you’re around, osamu’s hand can be found resting on your stomach, soothingly rubbing, excitedly grinning when he feels a kick. he is just so happy for his brother, he could cry.

↬ you ask them if they want a gender reveal when you find out or to keep it until the delivery of the baby, but they’re both insanely impatient (even though sakusa does try to convince atsumu to wait because it’ll be exciting, he himself isn’t even that convinced of that and they just ask you to tell them). with the help of osamu and his and atsumu’s parents, you organize a gender reveal party. the moment he sees the pink smoke, atsumu cheers so loudly it makes you laugh till your stomach hurt. sakusa’s grinning wider than you’ve ever seen him, grabbing atsumu’s face and kissing him, before pulling you into a tight hug. it’s literally the cutest thing ever, everyone just cheering loudly around you and celebrating with you.

↬ when you go into labor, you’re with neither of them, but with osamu, aran, and kita. they were staying the night at a hotel since they had training away from where they lived, and you were spending the night at osamu’s because the fathers of your baby really didn’t want you to be alone so close to your due date, and who better than osamu? your water didn’t break, but you kept having contractions. you were brushing it off as normal pain at the start, but they started to get worse, and closer together in time. kita, because he’s kita, had been keeping track, and told you how far apart your contractions were. to which you went, “contractions?!”

↬ aran’s calling sakusa and atsumu as kita grabs your bag as osamu grabs his keys and helps you to his car. you really couldn’t have been around a better set of men, because they were perfectly composed the whole time, helping you breathe and stay calm by staying calm themselves, reassuring you that you didn’t need to worry and that you will get to the hospital in time. they did flinch every time you screamed or cried out in pain, but aran held your hand the entire drive there, and kita guided you to steadying yourself as osamu drove as fast as he could.

↬ the issue was with sakusa and atsumu. to say they were freaking out would be an understatement. they were positively losing it. atsumu’s anxiety was louder than sakusa’s, but the latter’s was clear as ever on his pale skin and clammy hands. they were so annoying in the delivery room, literally faring worse off than you, who was pushing a whole baby out of her body. when you finally gave birth to a healthy baby girl, atsumu sobbed and sakusa cried in his hands, so maybe it was alright after all.

↬ they literally couldn’t believe their eyes when the nurse handed you the baby and placed her on your chest. she was so, so tiny, so beautiful, and theirs. honestly, you couldn’t hold back your own tears at the sight of her, and at their reaction to her. you held her in your arms as they thanked you, over and over and over again, for the biggest blessing they could ever receive.

↬ despite the fact that you were simply their surrogate, sakusa and atsumu knew they couldn’t just separate you and your baby, and neither could they just take her home all of a sudden. so for the first few months, you stayed in their guest room, but the baby slept in her own room. it was more difficult than you expected it to be when you were leaving her to go back to your own home, but they promised you repeatedly that they’re not really taking her away. it wasn’t as if you couldn’t visit at any time you wanted to come visit her. but at the end of the day, you knew what you had been signing up for, and that she was their daughter.

↬ she grows up to be a gorgeous woman. she’s interested in volleyball, sure, she’d been raised with volleyball players everywhere around her, but it’s not her immediate passion. atsumu thought he’d be more upset about that than he actually was, because he found out that it didn’t matter at all what she wanted to do. hell, if she wanted to do nothing at all and stay home forever with them, he was 100% on board with that. whatever made her happy and healthy, he was okay with. she grows up to be really close and really comfortable with both of her fathers, and they make sure with every passing day that no matter what, she can always come to them. and she does, about every little thing. and each and every time, they listen and advice and guide her properly. a s parents, they’re a perfect balance of strict and lenient. they set and raise her to never cross those boundaries, but otherwise they give her complete freedom. they respect her privacy, her decisions, everything.

↬ there was a day when she came back home from school, and they had taken a biology class for kids, where a teacher had explained periods to them. obviously, as curious as ever, she’d asked her dads about it, because she didn’t really get it. she wanted to know the how’s and the why’s and the what’s and the when’s. with every passing second atsumu had felt his lifespan shorten. eventually he suggested they call you, who she knew as her ‘aunt’ for the time being, since you were a woman and nobody would really explain it better than you. when she did get her period eventually, and had to sheepishly and shyly ask her dads to go to the store for her because she needed, um, supplies, atsumu lost it. sakusa had to try and calm him down all while laughing as he got ready to go to the store for her, because the drama of miya atsumu never gets old. he just couldn’t believe she was already getting her period. what the hell! what the actual hell!

↬ of course, he proceeded to embarrass her by telling osamu, telling sakusa’s parents, telling his parents. not cool :(

↬ when she was old enough, especially to understand the concept of being a surrogate (oh my god the sex talk was a whole other insufferable thing), they told her about you, and that you were actually her biological mother and not just an ‘auntie.’ she tried to be angry at them for keeping it from her, but she was honestly more excited about finding out than anything. it brought the two of you closer together, and for the next mother’s day, she organized a whole brunch for you, her and her dads, got you a gift, flowers, everything. yeah, you did cry.

↬ you genuinely have never been more satisfied and thankful for a decision like this one, ever, especially because of how much of a blessing the outcome had been.

can u tell this isn’t my first time thinking about this. ever since i posted the iwaoi one i’ve been wanting to do a sakuatsu one, but i didn’t really know whether anyone had enjoyed that or would want more, so thank you for sending in this ask!! love u all mwah <3 

[helpistolethesecharacters]

I'll Be Your Romeo If You'll Be My Juliet

Lucius Malfoy x Male Reader

Word Count: 1911

This was a request from an anon for a Lucius x male reader.

I hope this is everything you wanted from your request anon, if it isn't, feel free to send me another request!

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It was time for the annual Yule gathering. The Black family had the honor of hosting it this year, and they had taken every opportunity to remind everyone of that fact.

The heirs, the ones that mattered anyway, had been almost insufferable on the lead up to the yule break.

Lucius had mixed feelings on the whole subject, not that he could let that show to anyone.

Luckily, it looked like his betrothed was of a similar mind. The lovely Andromeda Black had been as quiet as he had been lately. If they had had even the smallest bit of interest in each other, they might have brought their concerns up.

Lucius thought fleetingly of a world where they could be in love. They would spirit themselves away to an abandoned classroom where they could talk uninterrupted about all of the things that were bothering them. They would take comfort in not being alone. It would bring them closer together and they could fall in love all over again.

But reality was a cruel mistress, and rarely allowed for such flights of fancy.

As it was, Lucius and Andromeda were just two teens who had been promised to each other from before they had even been born. There was nothing more between them.

Lucius sighed silently as he exited the floo into the receiving room at the Black Manor.

He barely registered an elf banishing the soot from his dress robes as he moved out of the room.

"Heir Malfoy, a pleasure to have you in our humble home this evening. And of course you as well Lord and Lady Malfoy!"

Lucius nodded at the welcome and stood obediently by his parents' side as he waited for the greetings to end. Sometimes he tired of all the stiff pureblood airs and graces.

After the obligatory back handed compliments they moved off into the party proper. With a last terse command to not embarrass the family name, courtesy of his father, Lucius moved away to see if he could find someone a little closer to his age.

He absently took a glass of sparkling cider from one of the floating trays that dotted the ballroom. The Blacks really had outdone themselves this year. The room was done in shades of white, sliver and blue. It really was stunning, but nothing seemed to be able to knock Lucius out of the numbness he had slipped into.

It had started at the start of that school year with the arrival of a transfer student. The other boy was their age, and the most enchanting creature that Lucius had ever laid eyes on. He had watched his sorting with longing, but the dratted hat had put Y/n into Ravenclaw. It wasn't really the end of the world, Lucius shuddered to think if he had been put into Gryffindor, or worse, Hufflepuff. Unfortunately, Lucius was already betrothed, but even if he wasn't, Abraxas Malfoy would never allow him to sully the Malfoy name with a male partner.

So Lucius had had to swallow his feelings as best he could. It hadn't worked very well, so he had allowed himself to pine from afar just a little.

He was jolted out of his daydream by the object of his thoughts. Lucius inhaled his mouthful of cider at the sight of Y/n.

He looked amazing in his dress robes, dressed up all fancy for the ball. Lucius thought to himself that if this was the cause of his death it would be worth it.

He was aware, once he managed to stop choking, of three things. One, everyone was looking at him, two, his face was probably red enough to shame a Weasley's hair, and lastly, that Y/n had the brightest e/c eyes possible.

He was struck with the awful thought that this was probably the first time that Y/n had known that Lucius existed.

'Well, that was a fantastic first impression,' Lucius thought to himself. He pointedly looked everyone who would meet his gaze straight in the eyes. As he had thought, it was enough to discomfort them into looking away.

Lucius raised his chin and moved off into a different area of the ballroom.

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

Ever since Y/n had realised that Lucius Malfoy was at the party as well, he had been jittery. The other boy was always looking at him. He had been the cause of enough distraction before this, when he was just someone who lurked at the fringes of his awareness while he studied in the school library. Now, Y/n was sure that he would never be getting rid of the image of Lucius in dress robes. How was he ever going to be able to concentrate again?

He shook himself slightly and tried to focus back in on whatever it was that the Greengrass heiress was talking about. He was supposed to be making connections here, maybe paving the way for a betrothal contract. As the first Pendragon to be seen in this and the previous generation, there was a lot of pressure to make the right political connections. A marriage to someone who was already politically powerful in this community would go a long way toward putting them back on the map in this magical community.

It was the Gods eternal joke that he was the only one that could do this. He only had one other relative, and his uncle wasn't exactly all there anymore. His parents had made it clear that this was their only chance to become the powerful family that they had once been.

Sure, potions had made it possible to have a male pregnancy, but it was still looked down on pretty harshly by most purebloods. Y/n had no idea how he was supposed to get his family back to its former glory, when to do it he would have to marry a girl. Why did he have to be gay?

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

Lucius was slowly going out of his mind. He had moved around the party doing his best to ignore Y/n, but he couldn't get him out of his head. The other boy was still standing where he had first spotted him, entirely surrounded by everyone their age.

What was worse was that these were people Lucius had grown up with. He had known these people for his whole life, and it was this that allowed him to see what was happening.

They were all flirting with Y/n.

Lucius was almost certain that some of them, most notably his friends, were only doing it to irritate him and not because they were genuinely interested in Y/n.

He had been shooting furtive looks over at the group for the last half an hour, and still they kept it up. Lucius just didn't know what to do. Oh sure, he knew what he wanted to do, but he also knew that there was no way he could actually pull it off.

For one thing, if he showed his hand by going over there and making a fool of himself he would face serious consequences when he got home. He was sure he would already be in trouble for his incident earlier that night, but if his father heard even a hint of a whisper that his only heir was gay, well, Lucius wasn't sure he would survive that particular punishment.

He was pulled up short at the realisation of where he was. He was in a room with some of the biggest gossips in the magical world, all of which could just about smell weakness. He shot his eyes around the room and realised with a start that it was already too late.

He recognised the look in his fathers eyes when he met them. Someone must have said something about his preoccupation with his classmate to Abraxas. Lucius swallowed, noting his suddenly dry throat.

He looked away from his father, toward Y/n and his friends. There might be a way to salvage this, pretend to have been watching another of his friends. He would still be in trouble for lusting after someone who was not his betrothed, but much less than if it had been the very male Y/n.

There was a commotion over by one of the doors, but Lucius was too busy thinking. He was realising that he was done. He couldn't live like this anymore, and he was done pretending that he could.

He squared his shoulders and moved over to his friends.

"Excuse me, may I borrow Y/n for a moment. We won't be long."

He didn't even bother waiting for a response, just grabbed a hold of him and started off in a random direction. The only thing in his mind was getting as far away from other people so he could have this discussion in peace.

He pulled Y/n out of the ballroom and down hallway after hallway until he decided they were lost enough that only a house elf would be able to find them.

He turned back to the other boy after making sure that the area was empty. They were both panting a little after their impromptu jog.

Y/n was looking at Lucius cautiously.

Lucius surged forward and connected their lips.

They were gasping for breath again when he pulled back.

"You know we can't do this."

Lucius cut him off before he could continue.

"I'm done. I'm done being the perfect heir for parents that don't care to know the real me. I'm done pretending that I'm not head over heels for you. Most of all, I'm done holding back from the things I want just because society wants so badly to tell me no."

He pulled in a deep breath, still standing in Y/n personal space. Neither boy had moved back.

"I want you, Y/n, and I think you've known that for as long as I have. If I haven't missed my guess, you want me too. I'm certainly not alone in all the looks I've sent your way, and I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't at least find out if you could feel the same way as I do for you."

Y/n sighed and shifted back a step.

"Those are pretty words Lucius, easy to say them here, alone in a secluded corner of someone else's manor, but how will you feel walking into Hogwarts next week, and letting everyone see. How will you feel when your parents cut you off?"

"I'm not totally helpless Y/n, I'll find a way to survive. I know for sure that if I have you by my side there isn't anything that we can't face."

He softly took Y/n's hand and stroked the back with his thumb.

"So what do you say? Can you feel the same way I do?"

Y/n shut his eyes in resignation.

"You know I do."

They stood at the end of their silent hallway for some time, just holding each other.

"You know this will be the second scandal of the night?"

Lucius pulled back to look at Y/n.

"What do you mean?"

Y/n looked at Lucius, shocked.

"What do you mean, what do I mean? Didn't you hear, just before you pulled me out of there, one of the older Blacks ran in and caused quite the scene. By the looks of things Andromeda is missing. From what I managed to gather, she's run off with that muggleborn from Ravenclaw, you know, Tonks-something, or something-Tonks."